REDHEADED MISCHIEF

A redhead accompanied her husband to the doctor's office. After his checkup, the doctor called the redhead into his office alone.

He said, "Your husband is suffering from a very severe disease, combined with horrible stress. If you don't do the following, your husband will surely die."

"Each morning, fix him a healthy breakfast. Be pleasant, and make sure he is in a good mood. For lunch make him a nutritious meal. For dinner prepare an especially nice meal for him. Don't burden him with chores, as he probably had a hard day. Don't discuss your problems with him, it will only make his stress worse. And most importantly. do not make love with your husband or be intimate - no oral sex. If you can do this for the next 10 months to a year, I think your husband will regain his health completely."

On the way home, the husband asked his sexy redhead. "What did the doctor say?"

"You're going to die," she replied.

 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

THIS SITE IS A MEMBER OF WEBRING

This site is a member of WebRing.
To browse visit
here

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

POETRY IN MOTION

 

 

 

Brian...

CONNECTIONS

"js (10/6/2005 4:58:51 PM): so are we gonna be able to meet anytime, or you gonna be super busy ? .... 
js (10/6/2005 4:58:57 PM): or you just don't wanna ?
js (10/6/2005 4:59:18 PM): Mister Big wants to know..."

Sigh; as I live and breathe, there he is...BOOM... Mr. Big ...larger than life in a yahoo instant message.  Not a made-up figment of my imagination, but a living, breathing, handsome, funny, main leading man in my theatrical plays that is my life.

God has the worst sense of humor, or timing, or both sometimes.  Here I am, in such a lost place in my life and the one person who can take me into his arms and blow spark into my soul is traveling two hours south of me on a regular basis. 

Finally, I get to be the mom I always wanted, and Brian and I are up to our ears in all his special studies and his football and his friends.  This is the year, his time ... and he is so happy...so at peace...and he has me running around all over the place.

And reading that im, I think of laying in Mr. Big's arms, taking in his kindness, his great understanding of who I really am, to be at peace with a man that I love hanging with - only to pry my body from his tender grasp and say goodbye (one more time) and go back to my world without him. What happens if I don't want to say goodbye again? What if I don't have it in me to see him and know that in a few hours he will be on a plane flying thousands of miles from me, back into his world that is so far away from mine?

But oh how I love his humor, his laugh, his way of pulling me in to him and holding me tightly for hours, the story telling, the laughter... the laying there watching him smoke at the window... all too fleeting and gone in a flash.  I know I would feel better, stronger in seeing him.  I am the better me, the real me when I am with him, but...

There is always that damn 'but'...

I have known this Mr. Big 5+ years now.  When we first met, he liked ICQ and taught me to chat 'real time' through their instant message service.  India owned ICQ back then and instant messaging in their real time format was a surreal experience.  It was like having someone in your brain with you, chatting soul to soul.  So few people understand the significance of getting to know someone's mind and falling in love with it, like a step back in time to the great love letters across vast continents.

Mr. Big is never judgmental with me, granted we have fought - some doozies let me tell you.  Once I didn't speak to him for almost a year.  But I found life dull without my personal 'touchstone' - Mr. Big.  I never have to explain my writings, my humor, my positions, he gets it and finds me hilariously goofy, in that loving benevolent way of his.  I felt lost without his checking up on me, his late night phone calls, laughing me to sleep, our instant messages that left my sides aching with laughter.  I came to the conclusion that although we could never mesh our lives under one roof for too many private reasons to explain here, I wanted him in my life.

More than his ability to understand my craziness is the connection that sparks when we chat online, the blending of two quick minds.  It becomes this chat in my head as if it is one voice, one mind.  It is a soft whisper of my conscience answering back, making laughter and joy.  When Star Trek invented the "Vulcan mind - melt" little did we realize far before its time that internet chatting with a rare few becomes just this 'melt'.

Unconditional love is difficult to find among the adults of this world.  Children and dogs try and teach adults how to behave this way in love, but few too many don't hear or see it, or aren't motivated to try it.  So many want to place judgement, question, push, comment, remark and chicken bone a person to death.  And then wonder why in the hell the person doesn't want to have anything to do with them.  Mr. Big loves me unconditionally, like a great friend.  I know in my heart that if I was ever in desperate trouble he would help me without thought (of course we all know how stubborn I am and I would never ask, but it is a thought that comforts me some nights when I am alone trying to fall asleep in my bed).

Mr. Big loves to laugh and make fun of the men I have dated.  His favorite question is, "Whats wrong with dis one?"  and I answer "Besides him not being you...?" and then I proceed to tell him the problem.  He usually laughs and laughs and then says "What a fuc*in idiot, those men out there are clueless".  Uh, no duh.  California creates its own breed of men.

And since I am not able to leave California at this time in my life, I am forced to deal with the reality of the men here, and hope to raise my son up to be different.  With that said, there is no room that I can find to steal myself away for a night or two and be re-charged in the arms of a dear dear man.

Life...

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

How do you piss off a redhead?... by breathing...

MY OWN THEATRICAL TROUPE

Most people who see the movie 'Mame' with Rosalind Russell believe Patrick Dennis, the writer, stretched his imagination when creating the character of Auntie Mame.  I know different, for a character much like her played Mame in my world growing up.  She was my redheaded Aunt Colleen, a living breathing replica of Mame.  Aunt Colleen, my dad's oldest sister (younger than him) was half Mame half Lucielle Ball.  Their younger sister, Margene, was like the Vera Charles character in Mame (Coral Browne), but with flaming red hair.  If you know what I am referring to - imagine these larger than life women in my bed in my tiny antique bedroom at the back of the house.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Aunt Colleen would ask, with that husky, soft fun loving voice of hers. Before I could answer, Aunt Margene would turn to me and say "Have two!!".  They would then turn to eachother, "Two?  No, three, Catherine must have three.  One she likes, one she doesn't like and one that takes her shopping".  Their hysterical laugher would then fill the room and they would turn to me and ask if I was taking notes.

What made this commical is that both women married their high school sweethearts and have been with them 45+ years.  Neither regretted this choice and their husbands (Uncle Leon and Uncle Sonny) are the perfect match for these two feisty, fun loving redheads.  They were the first to teach me what it meant to be a redhead and the special type of men that understand and love them unconditionally.

"What is that you have Catherine?"  Aunt Colleen peaks at me while putting on her nightgown.  "My diary" I answer.  Aunt Margene sits forward, "Is is good?"  "Good?"  I ask back, in my innocent voice.  "Full of boys and things your parents don't want to know" she responds leaning closer.  "Well, kinda" I half whisper and shrug my shoulders, thinking about the hockey players I had secret crushes on.  "Good!" Aunt Margene smiles.  Aunt Colleen pulls her night gown on and stares at me, "Well that certainly is better than my diary growing up - I never knew what to write in the darn thing.  Every day I would open my diary, write the date, amd begin "Dear Diary...", and from there, I would ponder, sit a bit, yell at Margene, get ready for bed and come back to the diary, only to write "Love Colleen". 

They both begin to laugh.  "That was my diary for a year Catherine", Aunt Colleen continues, "Monday: Dear Diary, Love Colleen... Tuesday: Dear Diary, Love Colleen ... Wednesday: Dear Diary, Love Colleen...Thursday: Dear Diary, Love Colleen and so on..." Aunt Colleen smiles and then breaks out in fits of giggles.  Aunt Margene looks at me, rolls her eyes, as I start to laugh, "It's true, boring as hell it was to steal the thing from my OLDER sister, and read it.  She could have at least made something up!"  Margene says as she tosses her head.  "Oh and be like YOU?" Aunt Colleen shoots back.  "Well, I AM the prettier one"  Aunt Margene quickly retorts with a laugh.  

Then they both turn to me, with hands on their hips and shout "Well who do YOU think is prettier?!" 

OK, I may have been young, but I wasn't born stupid, and I already got the "redheaded thing" well understood, so I  answer, "You both are!".  Aunt Colleen shoots a look at Margene and says, "You KNOW she means me, because I am her favorite Aunt".  "In your dreams, which we know are troubled" Margene answers back. Then, the three of us would fall over in a fit of belly laughs.

Which would lead to the discussion of sex and men, and how men want it at any price and I needed to set the price quite high, "You control the relationship Catherine" they would say, wise beyond their times.  "And if a man tries to teach you otherwise, then you just drop him like a bad habit, becuase he will never be the 'one'".

"I do?" I asked, never quite understanding that 'redhead power' until turning 40 myself.  I hadn't even kissed a boy, and we were discussing power struggles.  It seemed to me the boys had all the power becuase I didn't want to be sweet 16 andnever really been kissed.  Never being kissed by 16 seemed like the curse of Zoro (or something more tragic) coming back from the dead.

Aunt Colleen always snapped me back from these moments of self doubt with, "Do you remember 'possible - not possible'?"  I pause, (which never works for any redhead, becuase he or she will jump right in and make a point).  "When putting on perfume Catherine..."  Aunt Colleen looks at me in a dead-on stare.  She pulls out a bottle of perfume, blots her finger, and dots her lip and whispers "Remember Possible, Possible IMPossible". Then she blots her neck and shoulders, again whispering, "Possible".  She refills her finger at the bottle and touches her breasts and whispers, "Possible".  She blots again, then touches her wrists, "Possible".  Finally she quickly rubs her pussy with the perfume and says loudly, "IMPOSSIBLE - (for men)".  She grins, winks and repeats it to make sure I understand.  I get it she means that although I might seak to smell great, there is one area that men should never be - the 'impossible' place ...well anytime soon in her mind.  Aunt Margene is now giggling too, and finishes with "Our mother told us to always keep both feet on the floor, but then I had 5 children that way!"

Thus the rules for redheads 'possible-impossible' was born, along with "keep both feet always planted on the floor".  This was way different sex education talk than what my mother, the RN taught me.  My mother gave me charts and diagrams with technical terms I still can't pronounce.  I knew exactly where babies came from, but my mother never talked to me about 'Possible, Possible, Impossible'.  I guess Aunts are suppose to fill us in on those details. I still put on perfume this exact way every day, grin and think of her.

And I have one child from keeping both feet planted firmly on the ground...funny how that works.

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

BULLSEYE

One morning a man walked up to his redheaded girlfriend and pinched her on her butt and said, "You know if you firmed this up you could get rid of your baggy jeans."

While this was on the edge of intolerable, she thought herself better and replied with cold silence.

A week later the same man woke his redhead with a pinch on the breast and said, "You know if you firmed these up you could get rid of your support bra."

This was beyond a silence response, so she rolled over and grabbed him by the penis. With a death grip in place she said, "You know if you firmed this up more often, I could get rid of the postman, the gardener, the pool guy, and your boss."

ABOUT A BOY

It's my favorite night, pillows abound and we are watching "About A Boy".  I love this movie, Hugh Grant is terrific.

"Fiona: Will, am I a bad mother?
Will: No. No, you're not a bad mother. You're just a barking lunatic."
 
"Fiona: I mean, he's a special - very, very special boy and he's got a special soul, and I've wounded it.
Will: Oh, please, just shut up. You're wounding my soul."

*lauging* 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

HOME TOWNS

I was born at Memorial Hospital in Santa Rosa, a catholic hospital, on the 4th of July 1960.  Santa Rosa was my birthplace because Memorial was the closest hospital to my family home in Rohnert Park.

In 1948 a Paul Golis, born in Scranton, Pennsylvania, a graduate of Duke Law School came to Santa Rosa, followed by a Maurice Fredericks in 1951 after he graduated from the University of Santa Clara Law School. Golis and Fredericks began representing builders in the Sonoma Valley from Petaluma up through Santa Rosa. They decided the only way to develop the vast county was to draw up a master plan for an entire area at the outset. This was how the City of Rohnert Park was born in 1954. The town I was coming home to as a baby was only 6 years older than me.

Golis had copied the idea of Pennsylvania's Levittown wanting each neighborhood to consist of 250 homes centered on a 10 acre school site and a 5 acre pool-park site. No child would have to walk more than 1/3 mile to school, this became the great joke, as later the city planners would stick the high school so far out of town that kids had to be bused to this single high school "in town".

He believed that a commercial and industrial development would be large enough and diverse enough to support the entire community. What actually happened is most everyones parents commuted to work.  There were few jobs in this suburbia town of identical houses, unless you worked for the city mowing the park lawns or tending the two pools.  We were the first new town of latch-key kids.

Golis and Fredericks planned for 8 such subdivisions that could make up a city of 30,000 people. With planned pools, parks, and services the city would be a "country club for the working class". This was the founding base to the tiny white-bread, bland commuter city with no downtown, I was brought home to the summer of 1960.

It is said that Rohnert Park was once part of a seed farm started by an Irish man from Dublin in the 1800's, thus causing great  suffering with the late afternoon winds.  Allergies all year long were the norm.  I found it ironic that an irishman would be responsible for me being stuck in a town I was so far apart from I may as well have been a martian trying to create a life on the sun.

All the houses were constructed exactly the same.  If you weren't careful you could easily walk into the wrong house thinking it was your own.  Golis in his infinate wisdom, thought each set of 250 homes, should come with their own street names to ease the confusion of what part of this small town you were in.  Thus the "A" section was born, where all street names started with an A, and the "B" section where all streets started with a B and so on.  No, I am not making this up.  I think they are up to M now, but I don't keep track of the town I slept in for 18 years.

The problem with a new town is like the new rich, it has no class, no sense of self.  Not to mention the city of Santa Rosa disliked newcomers and Rohnert Park topped that list. It was a minor league town surrounded by major league towns - towns with a deep history.

There were no beautiful interesting buildings, no great works of architecture, no aging pieces of art, and few too little of other cultures.  No interesting little neighborhoods, with an ethnic market and the hustle and bussle of city life.  Since everyone worked outside the home, people rarely left their living rooms.

Except my dad.

He loved to meet people and talk with the neighbors, especially our neighbor Bob.  He took pride in the fact that his family was safely tucked away in a boring place, free from the dramas of his own youth.  The neighbors loved him, and between his larger than life personality and my mother insisting on ballet lessons, music lessons, top grades, a rich literary library, and travel ...lots of travel... I survived. 

I also survived due to the interesting Aunts and Uncles who managed to pop up, at odd times, and turn the house upside down.  My favorite visits came with my Aunt Colleen, my dad's oldest redheaded sister.  Aunt Margene, the yougest was not far behind.  Having them both arrive together was pure bliss.  Those were the times they would take my bed - the same bed I sleep in today - the bed I've had since having it passed to me at age three.  My dad would set up a cot for me at the foot of the bed, stare at the three redheads, and stop at me "Please try and get some sleep" he would say.  My Aunts would laugh that 'like-hell-we-will' laugh.  I never wanted them to leave my little room.

All kinds of essentric, electrifingly wonderful relatives stayed in my room on Alta Avenue, and slept in that bed.  Sitting on the cot, it was like one great theatrical play unfolding right before my very eyes - and I was related to these people!  Add in my parents wonderful friends, all of who spoiled me rotton and  there began the life I loved compared to the life I lived.   I preferred these adults to my dull, boring neighborhoods and immature school mates.

Luckily for me, my ballet classes were in Petaluma and my ice skating was in Santa Rosa, so I was able to spend hug blocks of time away from Rohnert Park.  When I wasn't dancing, I was ice skating and when I wasn't ice skating I was doing homework, and when I wasn't doing homework I was talking on the phone to my best friend (and still my friend today) Laura.

Laura made living in Rohnert Park bearable, and since she lived on the Two Rock Coast Guard base way out at two rock, she felt equally as isolated.  We made a good team for creating some happiness and fun in our teenage years and those years before my father died.

This story will continue...

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

 

REDHEADS ARE...

The President, checking out three female escorts in a hotel lounge - a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead asked security to approach them with a question.

His security appraoched the women and starting with the blonde said, "That is the President of the United States over there. How much would it cost him to spend some time with you?"

The blonde replied, "Ummmm...wow....the President of what ...?... ummmm ... just $200 ... I think..."

To the brunette security asked the same question. Her reply was "$2200, a fur coat, and I don't want to file taxes this year."

Security then turned to the redhead, who spoke before they could ask, "If Mr. President over there can raise my skirt as high as my taxes, get my panties as low as my wages, get that thing of his as hard as the times, keep it as high as the gas prices, keep me warmer than my apartment, and screw me the way he has the public, then it won't cost him one penney."

LIFE IMITATES ART

A friend just emailed this-

Your weekly horoscope by Kristin Fontana-

CANCER
(June 21 - July 22)

"Whatever will be will be. There are times in our lives that no matter how much we attempt to steer the ship, the seas have something else in mind. It is important to respect the ocean and its movement at all times, it is bigger than all of us and so is the universe with all of its abundant energy. This Monday, October 3, a tremendously energetic solar eclipse is occurring in our celestial galaxy. New life is born, doors are opened and life as we once knew it will never be the same.

Look forward to a new day dawning, have respect for the skies and gratitude for the blessings that are eager to be bestowed upon you. And if you are feeling unstable between now and the great change, dig deep and aim high, you will be soaring in no time at all."

Ok, now I am officially creeped out...

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

Tags: Kristin Fontana, www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

THE TAIL SHIP OF LIFE.

It's an odd thing when one lets go of ones life and lets it free fall where it may.  In some ways its a bit of a hiding game, like hide and go seek in the daylight.  I know we are all suppose to have a plan, a rudder to our ship of life.  Successful gurus always spout the bilge of life is supported by a set plan.

Maybe during times of light wind sailing in our lives, we can pull up the rudder for a piece and just sail with the tide.  Many helms believe that light winds are boring and offer no challenges, but I think it is in still waters and soft winds that the greatest challenges may come.  An opportunity to change course with the wind, the tide and let go.

My x boss started the beginnings of his mortgage company this week.  We have spoken everyday, just like a year ago.  He is such a dear friend and the conversation flows with an ease of a soft piano concerto.  My x husband is aligning his business up with my x boss, so I am in essence, surrounded by x's.  My girlfriends always tell me that the men from my life never completely let me go.

And somehow, they turn to me to have control over the business mainsheet.  As if I come with a magic magnetic compass that seems to find success like it is a small island just at the horizon.  As I stare at this horizon, I realize this is not my dream of success, yet I find myself stering this ship of entrepreneurs gently toward their island of dreams.  Have I moved so far into this world of my son's, I have somehow lost myself?

It is easy for me to advise loan officers, bankers, brokers and the like.  I have been doing it for an untold number of years, all while setting aside my dream of writing the books that float about my head. 

Several months back, I pushed myself away from my desk, emailed my clients and said I was done.  This journal was up and running, and finally there was a small space in my life for art, and for writing.  Interestingly enough, I began to feel better and the ravages of the symptoms of my disease began to ease.

Suddenly like the warmth of the sun on my face I began to feel the joy  of being completely in my son's life.  No cell phone always ringing, no stressed late night emails and faxes - a serene peace.  No cubicle mole existance. No answering to anothers schedule or dictatorship.  No schools of small minded gossiping individuals that seem to get in the way of the business at hand.  I was set free - free to be a mom.

There is the reality that we live in the 4th most expensive county in the West and an artist can really starve here quite well.  There is Brian, who goes through a pair of shoes a month.  Now, I am faced with the prospect of building a mortgage company - from scratch.  I adore my x boss, and miss him when we are not chatting.  It is amazing how attached one can get to daily chats with someone.  But a mortgage company?  One that involves my x husband? 

I sailed far and wide to leave the world I am now so immersed within, somehow the soft movement of the tide and the winds gently pushed me right back where I started.  It creates stability for Brian when my x does well, which he can when managed.  My x boss has reached out and said "Come along Cath" as he doesn't want the stress without me there to keep him laughing like I always do.  What about my ship...?...my tiny little island of dreams?

I raised the rudder that directed my life course, threw up the sails of hope and let the winds of life carry me to a new destination.  I find that I have drifted to a business opportunity right back into the career storm I weathered too many times to count.

Would Father Shaw say that this is spirit telling me what I am to do, that in the letting go, I have drifted right where I should be, for reasons I may not see for many years to come?  Could this just be a small drop of water in vast sea of what will become Brian's great life ahead?

Or is this the moment to fight like hell, to place all my oars in the water and row like mad toward the island of my dreams?  Would I have the strength to row against the current, against the tide - into the winds...?..

"O'er the ocean vast,
Palaces will gleam;
From the distant shore
Mountain tops will soar,
When this night has passed.
Under shady trees
We shall take our ease
Knowing all shall last
Come, sail with me, explore with me
The blue horizon of the sea..."

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

 

WEBRING MEMBER

This site is a member of WebRing.
To browse visit
here

MAXWELL SMART

Agent 86 has left the building.

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

Tags: Maxwell Smart, Rapieress, a week in the life of a redhead, redhead bloggers, agent 86

Two 40ish single girlfriends are sitting on the front porch, doing nothing.  The redhead turns to the other and asks, "Do you still get horny for sex all the time?"  The other replies, "Oh sure I do."  The redhead asks, "What do you do about it?"  The other replies, "I suck a lifesaver." 

After a few moments, the redhead says, "Wanna drive me to the beach?"

CORPORATE SHARKS

I noticed the latest Washington Mutual commercial today and thought about how they decimated North American Mortgage Company.

North American Mortgage rose up from IMCO Realty Services in 1988.  It was the priemier company to work for in Santa Rosa and a beautiful corporate office was constructed on Airway Drive on the outer edge of Santa Rosa.  It was a chameleaon in its day, a complex built to inspire the employees within.

Wright Construction still brags about the NAMCO building at http://www.wrightcontracting.com/imco.htm .  It came complete with an atrium, a restaurant, a smoking room, gardens, and a mile long walking path.  The idea was to create a place where people loved to work and they would work at 110 percent.  This was long before the tech boom with their ping pong tables and pets, NAMCO had everyone beat back then.

They belived in employee training and education, and created a state of the art training center and educational benefit program. But the one thing they were famous for was the people they hired.  Everyone who was anyone in banking wanted to be a NAMCO employee.  It was like the Donald Trump show of mortgage banking.

Ok, I was going to tell a story here, but Sex and the City is on and its the one with the "Are all men freaks?" theme...ugh...dating after you've been with a Mr Big is hell.

And I have to watch this.

WOMEN OVER 40

Andy Rooney on Women over 40

As I grow in age, I value women who are over 40 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over 40 will not lay next to you in bed and ask, "What are you thinking?" She doesn't care what you think.

If a woman over 40 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it's usually something more interesting.

A woman over 40 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of 40 give a damn what you might think about her or what she's doing.

Women over 40 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated.

A woman over 40 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women. Women over 40 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her.

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 40. They always know.

A woman over 40 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women or drag queens.

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 40 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her.

Yes, we praise women over 40 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 40+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 18-year-old waitress. Ladies, I apologize.

For all those men who say, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" here's an update for you.

Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage.

Why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire pig, just to get a little sausage.

Well said Andy.

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

REDHEADS IN LUST

 

 

 

There once was a girl
with a redheaded curl
Right in the middle of her forehead
And when she was good
she was very, very good
but when she was bad she was better.

PASTTIMES

My son's team won 26-0.  Seems they are on a roll.

From there we went to see the dedication of the new Santa Rosa rugby field in honor of Pete Eiermann "For Pete's Sake".  The goal posts are made from telephone poles.  A very cool design.  They stand like ancient totum poles calling back to a time where men went on crusaides.  Staring at them reminded me of the Santa Barbara playoffs, where the last year the campus allowed the ruggers to camp they lit telephone poles on fire for campfires.

It's the first time I have been at a rugby event in 7 years.  I didn't stay too long.  It isn't my life anymore, and my x's new girlfriend is beginning to like me too much and I worry she will get what is really up with my x (that he is not the man he represents himself to be - and he's done some pretty awful things in his day) and they will break up.  I want him to marry this girl and have a nice life, and Brian will have a nice place to go be with his dad.

She hung with me, while rugger after rugger came up to hug me and say hello.  Big Jeff, who's shoe was the classic 'shoot the boot' glass, hugged me, stood back and said "Please God tell me you are not back with him!"  I said "No, I am not back with him, and by the way behind you, is Katie, his latest girlfriend..."...His face went beat red as he turned around to say hello to her.

It was at this moment where I thought, 'I have to get the hell out of here'.  Besides, it was Terry's time with Brian and Boonie the dog, and I have a night off.  So with that I ran away as fast as I could to a nice quiet evening...ahhhhhhhhh.....

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

FILM NOIR

Today, I was thinking about one of my hobbies, movies.  I love watching a story unfold before me, transfixed and ready for the ride it is about to take me on.  Like that ride at the fair, where two doors open immersing one into complete darkness.  I love the movies.  There is nothing better than a well-told story.

I was thinking about what my top 10 movies would be and why (hey I cleaned the house today, ok).  A difficult list  – so many great stories.  But these would have to be movies I can watch over and over and never grow tired of them.  So...not necessarily in order...

Number 10-

Good Will Hunting. 

I admire the fact that Matt Damon and Ben Affleck peddled this movie as a suspense thriller to get it read by Hollywood.  I savor two scenes best. 

The one where Will (Matt Damon) is in the job interview and says, "Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll give it a shot. Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. So I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never had a problem with get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Send in the marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number was called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some guy from Southie takin' shrapnel in the ass. And he comes home to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile my buddy from Southie realizes the only reason he was over there was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And of course the oil companies used the skirmish to scare up oil prices so they could turn a quick buck. A cute little ancillary benefit for them but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And naturally they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin' 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what do I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. Why not just shoot my buddy, take his job and give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president”

The second where Skylar (Minnie Driver) is at the airport casting her eyes about the terminal, hoping Will (Matt Damon) will show up.  How many of us have done that?  In crowded terminals, train stations, concerts, bars in large cities – looking for that person we want to see with all our heart – but they are never there.  They don't show up, and the great fantasy in our head fades into the night, so we go home to sleep, wake up and get on with the living of the rest of our lives.  What would life be, if that one person showed up and said what we wished they'd say...?...

Number 9-

The Princess Bride.

"Have fun storming the castle"! ..."As you wish"... "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father: prepare to die" ... "You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you" ... "You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die".

So many quotes.  I love the dialog ofthis movie.  I could watch it a thousand times and still laugh throughout the film as if I am seeing it for the first time.  Not to mention how many of us would like the man we date (or love) to just once say "As you wish".  

Of course ... he could show up as the Man in Black and we'd never leave the bedroom, but I digress... 

Number 8-

Doctor Zhivago.

I first read "The poems of Dr Zhivago" by Boris Pasternak a Russian poet, whose novel Doktor Zhivago (which earned him the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1958) in 1971 - I was eleven. Pasternak had to decline the honour of the Nobel Prize because the protests in his home country - Russia. The novel was banned in the Soviet Union and Pasternak was expelled from the Union of Soviet Writers.  From the moment I read "The Poems of Dr Zhivago", I desperately wanted to see the movie.

"The Wind"

I am no more, but you're alive.
And the wind with plaint and wailing
Sets the woods and villa swaying.
It rocks not only single pines
But all the trees in joint array
And the remote, unbounded skyline -
Like wooden hulls of frigates riding
On the broad surface of the bay.
And this - not out of waywardness,
Nor in a fit of fury blind,
But in life's anguish to seek out
Words to compose your lullaby.

Finally, the movie came to television in 1973, and I was transfixed.  I remember staying up until 11:30 pm to see the end  (an unheard of bedtime back then).  It is one of those stories one never forgets.

Number7 -

Patton.

I was 10, my brother 13 and one Friday night we dawned PJ's, made home-made popcorn that filled a large brown grocery bag, put canned drinks on ice in the family car trunk, grabbed our pillows and blankets and were off to the movies....the drive-in movie.

I will never forget sitting in the back seat of our family Impala, looking out over the front bench seat, through the windshield, out to this massive white screen to a still picture of the American Flag.  It seemed larger than the Empire State building. Here, the opening monologue begins with George C Scott as General Patton, in front of this massive backdrop of the American flag.  Patton states, "Americans have never lost and will never lose a war, for the very thought of losing is hateful to Americans"...

One of the great movie openings of all time.  My favorite Barbie doll saw this movie with me as well.  She was a redhead.  Remember how one had to find just the perfect parking spot at the Drive-in, at the perfect parked angle to the screen, then the perfect speaker, which hung over the window top and rolled to the perfect tight fit to secure the right flow of sound?

Number 6 -

To Kill A Mockingbird.

How I loved Gregory Peck.  After my father died, I used to wish that somehow my mother would run into him at her college reunions every year in Los Angeles, they'd marry and Gregory Peck would be my dad.

Atticus Finch (Gregory Peck): "I remember when my daddy gave me that gun. He told me that I should never point it at anything in the house; and that he'd rather I'd shoot at tin cans in the backyard. But he said that sooner or later he supposed the temptation to go after birds would be too much, and that I could shoot all the blue jays I wanted - if I couldhit 'em; butto remember it was a sin to kill a mockingbird. Well, I reckon because mockingbirds don't do anything but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat people's gardens, don't nest in the corncrib, they don't do one thing but just sing their hearts out for us".

I saw the movie before I ever read the book.  I saw the movie with my family in our living room - one of those Saturday Night movie Specials on TV.  I layed on the floor, belly down with my hands under my chin, holding my head, mezmorized by the film before me.  My mom said she was the same kind of girl growing up that Scout was...hated dresses...fought with boys.  I wished my older brother was more like Jem.

In 7th grade, the book by Harper Lee was the required reading in my first true english literature class.  Mrs Beckwith was the teacher. She was tough, mean and could pick apart your work like a vulture to a carcus.  But she seemed to like me, and gave me my first A's in writing, but was forever on my ass about my lazy spelling.  "You are going to need a damn good editor Catherine!" she would bark, "but you have a definate style".  She'd nod that nod that let us know we did some good work, then she'd make me take one of her 100 word spelling tests as punishment.  We can see by my unedited writings here that the lazy spelling still exists.

Number 5- 

Erin Brockovich. 

As soon as I saw this movie, I purchased it.  My favorite scene is where Erin (Julia Roberts) is driving back from Hinkley.  It's late at night and she calls her boyfriend to keep her awake.  I would do this when I was traveling on the road too.  Her boyfriend tells her that her little girl spoke her first word, "Ball".  Erin wasn't there to see it, and begines to cry without letting her boyfriend know that she is upset.  Julia Roberts plays so well the anguish in her face, of a single mother torn between wanting to be at home raising her children and doing work to put food on the table that keeps her traveling away from them.

I saw this movie when I was traveling on the road for the Royal Bank of Canada.  I sobbed during this scene, because I knew all too painfully well what that feels like.  My technical career disappeared after 9/11, and Northern California had nothing in the the way of decent paying jobs.  The offer to travel and train loan officers fell into my lap.  It was good money, and the only thing offered to me at the time.

Torn and miserable, I went to see Father Shaw, the local Priest at Ressurection Parish, whos lectures I had long admired.  I cried and cried in his office with a box of kleenex on my lap, asking him how was I ever going to leave my son for weeks at a time.  He listened intently, and after a time offered this advise to me.  "Catherine, do you see the number of immigrant families in this parish?"  "Yes" I replied.  "Well", he continued, "Often the family is split up for a time, while one comes here, gets settled, goes to work, and works to bring the rest of the family here.  Once the family is here, often the parents must work each two jobs to make it.  It is what they do to care for their children and make a better life.  Is there no better form of love"?  "No" I reply, "and I know this.  I once worked in SF with a woman from the Phillipines, who was seperated from her family for 5 years while saving enough money to bring them here".  Father Shaw asks, "Then, what do you think you must do?  You strike me as a very devoted mother, one who deeply loves her son.  Your son is already lucky Catherine". 

I sighed.  "I will take the job, save the money and continue looking for something else".  Then he offered up the best advise.  "Take it one trip at a time Catherine - not the whole project.  Each trip, just tell yourself this is the last trip, and eventually it will be".

He was unbelievably kind, and his advise carried me through that rough period of my life.  He said he would keep in in his prayers and I often felt as if some greater force was carefully watching over me. 

Erin Brockovich is like watching a movie of my life, except hers eventually turned around.  I am still working on mine...think it will end up as a movie?

I still watch Erin whenever I feel a pity party coming on. - sets me straight again.

Favorite quote...

"Yeah. Yeah, sexy, huh? How 'bout this for a number? Six. That's how old my other daughter is, eight is the age of my son, two is how many times I've been married -- and divorced; sixteen is the number of dollars I have in my bank account. 850-3943. That's my phone number, and with all the numbers I gave you, I'm guessing zero is the number of times you're gonna call it".

Number 4 -

Hoosiers.

I must watch this movie about once every three months or so and it still remains fresh with me.  When I first saw this movie about a group of underdogs who become state basketball champions, I wanted a son someday just like David Neidorf's character, Everett Flatch (Schooter's son)

Set in the 1950s, Hoosiers is about a hard-luck, unemployed college basketball coach (Gene Hackman) who gets a chance to coach a small-town Indiana high-school basketball team. Facing resentment from the community and the team itself, Hackman manages to lead them to the state championship with the help of the assistant coach (Dennis Hopper), who happens to be the recovering alcoholic "Shooter".

My Brian is so much like the character "Everett", a basketball player in the film, it often blows my mind.  There is nothing better than great sports film.

My favorite quote, "I love you dad", when Everett says this to his dad when his dad is in a detox center and will miss the final game.  "When you get out, I am going to buy us a house dad, so you get better..."...sigh...that would be Brian.

Number 3 -

North By Northwest.

Anyone who truly knows meknows I am a huge Alfred Hitchcock fan and all his films fall in my list of top 25 of my favorite movies...except for Psycho.  Psycho still freaks me out and I can't watch it.  Otherwise, if I watched it  again I would never take another shower ... ever ...and I love my showers.

I love the elegance of North By Northwest and Cary Grant's character is most definately a Mr. Big.  Maybe this is where I first fell in love with my idea of Mr Big.  His drunk driving scene and outcome sure remind me of how much things have changed.

(Eve Kendall) "How do I know you aren't a murderer"?

(Roger Thornhill) "You don't".

(Eve Kendall) "Maybe you're planning to murder me right here, tonight".

(Roger Thornhill) "Shall I"?

(Eve Kendall) "Please do".

My favorite scene is the fabulous filming and editing of the corn field and crop duster.  Everytime I look at a corn field I think of this scene, and the Field of Dreams (which was a tough call against Hoosiers).  I also still love Eve's red dress that she wears to the auction.  Growing up, I always wanted that red dress... well ... and Cary Grant ...on a train...

Number 2 -

Jerry Maguire.

I have been a Cameron Crowe fan ever since his days as a music journalist for the Rolling Stone.  Being a fan of Jon Cussack, I instantly took to 'Say Anything'.  But who does not love 'Fast Times at Ridgemont High', not only his book, but the movie.  There is the movie 'Singles', which always reminds me of my college dating years.  There is also 'Almost Famous', 'Vanilla Sky' and 'Elizabethtown'.

Butthe film I am addicted to the most of his vast repertoire is Jerry Maguire which launched Crowe into greater recognition, netting five Oscar nominations, including a win for Cuba Gooding, Jr. for best supporting actor.

What don't I love about this film?  Something that may come as a surprise to most is the reason I like it ...  my favorite character.

Rod Tidwell.

"Well, boo-fuc*ing-hoo" ... "Show me the money" ... "Bubblicious" ... "I feel for you, man. But a real man wouldn't shoplift the pootie from a single mom" ...

I love his character as the perfect husband and dad.  He is passionate about his family and the end where all he wants to do is talk to his wife when he  makes it big - lands the 'quan'.  This scene always makes me cry...I have never made it through without tears rolling down my face.  Maybe because I have never experienced that in my life, unless we are talking about my parents.  Their married life is what I once thought I would have...it looked just like that.  They say when one visualises something it comes true ...what happened here?

However, Cuba Gooding lights up every scene he is in. 

Whenever I date, and am thinking the guy needs to go away, I put in Jerry Maguire, pour myself a glass of wine and watch Cuba Gooding's character in this film.  Then I remind myself how far away from Rod Tidwell this guy is, smile, finish my wine and write a dear John, call in a dear John or create something to make him never call me again.  Thank you Cameron Crowe for keeping it real.

Number 1 -

Chocolat.

Two words:  Johnny Depp

(And he's irish in this ...Real life Johnny: "We close ourselves off and we live in these little worlds that are comfortable and safe. It's routine and boring and filled with fear and guilt and it's no good, you know? It's no good for you.")

Until next time-

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/