They're Not In There Anymore

How many of you have looked at a dead person? I'm not talking on TV, I'm talking in person. Maybe it's part of your job, maybe you had a loved one pass on from this life. Either way, did you look at them? Were their eyes open? What did you see?

Maybe it makes a difference if you see them right after they die versus hours after they die, but when I look at a body, I see an empty shell. The body looks flat. You can tell that there is something important missing, something that once made it look full is no longer there. It almost reminds me of a sack of sand, where everything is pulled towards the back and if you poked it, the impression would remain. I know this sounds incredible callous, to be talking about a loved one in this manner, but are they really still your loved one any more? I don't think they are. The person you knew and loved, the essence, the soul of that human who you cared for, is gone and you're left with an empty box.

Where does that essence, that energy, someone's soul go? How does it get out of the box? When does it know to leave? What keeps the soul connected to the body to begin with? How does it get in there? Is it when the heart stops pumping, is that the sign? Or is it when there are no more brainwaves or are there no more brainwaves because the soul (energy) left? Brainwaves are electricity after all. Does that mean when we put people on life support, we are artificially tethering their soul to a broken shell? Not allowing their energy to leave? What about the premise that energy is neither created nor destroyed, does that mean the energy that is in my body currently has been in another body? If so, whose and how many others? Maybe it's not science at all, maybe it's God who lets the soul know it's time to come home and releases the essence of the person from their physical container.

I have no answers but have a mixture of faith and science. Our soul is the energy that keeps our bodies full. These earthly shells will only last so long, some get damaged or are diseased before they should be, others deteriorate with age. When it's time, God does call us home and allows our souls to be released from our physical bodies. Whether there is a Heaven or we move onto a new body, I don't know. What I have learned is I don't want my loved ones to see my empty, lifeless body. Let them remember me when it was full of energy. Don't let them see the sack of sand, the empty glass. 

"Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep"

by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do no stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on the snow.

I am the sunlight on the ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the sift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft starts that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there; I did not die.

We're Fat Americans

Are Americans the laughing stock of the rest of the world? As each day passes this question rears its ugly head more and more. We have a dysfunctional family called the Khardashians whose rise to fame was due the matriarch allowing her family's daily lives to be put on TV and the viewing public eating this "reality TV" up. We watch this TV show over the National news. I guarantee you most Americans can tell you what the decathlete formerly known as Bruce Jenner's new transgender name is over knowing a soldier's name from their hometown. Most of us only speak one language, myself included, while the rest of the world is usually bilingual at a minimum. And boy are we fat. Not just a a couple of us with a little extra weight, we're F-A-T, fat. Fat like Randy from "A Christmas Story" whose mom bundles him up with so many layers, when he falls over he can't get back up fat. And what's worse than adults being fat, go to the beach or a swimming pool and look at the kids, they're fat too. It breaks my heart. When I was growing up, there might have been one, maybe two overweight kids in class and they were tormented. "Fatty, fatty two-by-four couldn't fit through the kitchen door" and countless other vicious rhymes. Now it's the skinny kids that get picked on because they're atypical. Since when did it become wrong to be a healthy, normal sized kid? Since we became The FAT Americans, that's when.

I think most of us know that the obesity epidemic is due to our horrific diet of processed, refined and sugar-filled crap, laden with GMOs and artificial colors and chemicals whose names I can't even begin to pronounce. I'm guilt of ingesting what is being passed-off as "food" but the ingredients, even when I try and sound them out, make me sound like I'm Penny trying to talk to Sheldon about theoretical physics. How do I know that a lot of "foods" have big, grown-up words on the labels? Because for about a year I've been diligently reading them and making a conscious choice about what I eat, albeit not always the best choice. The conclusion I've come to is this epidemic is going to be one of the hardest to overcome. Sugar is in almost everything that's processed, even if it's not needed. Why would soup need sugar? Bread? Juice? And many Americans don't know any better, don't know why white flour, white bread, white rice are unhealthy for themselves and their families. They don't understand the pre-cursors to diabetes and what the lasting effects of this disease are. They think soda is an ok beverage to drink everyday. Yes, I said ok to drink everyday and they let their kids drink it, everyday. Soda in my house is a treat, like candy. It's one of the worst offenders of overall health and wellness in America today. 

Here are some facts about soda, pop, cola, coke and all the other names it goes by:

- Causes obesity

- Causes diabetes

- Linked to high blood pressure

- Increased chance of stroke

- Higher rate of osteoporosis

- Tooth decay

You may think I'm just out to slam soda makers, that they are evil. If that's what you think, please do your own research, see for yourself that soda is one beverage that should be avoided except on occasion, it should be a treat, not what you drink for breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks and before bed. Opt for water with a hint of fruit juice, tea (hot or unsweetened with ice)...there are better choices. While it may be hard to go cold turkey, just know that once your body adapts, and it will, you will feel more energy, your skin will look better and most people lose weight. 

Links to Sites:

http://www.livestrong.com/article/131088-bad-effects-cocacola/

http://www.medicaldaily.com/pulse/soft-drink-dangers-8-ways-soda-negatively-affects-your-health-319054

http://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/nutrition-and-healthy-eating/expert-answers/diet-soda/faq-20057855

http://health.clevelandclinic.org/2013/03/soda-do-you-drink-it-every-day/

http://www.today.com/health/diet-soda-doing-these-7-awful-things-your-body-1C6558748

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/to-your-health/wp/2015/03/17/bad-news-diet-soda-drinkers-your-favorite-beverage-may-lead-to-more-belly-fat-as-you-age/

Something Fun That Doesn't Involved Mud

I'm always looking for fun little experiments and things to do with my son. Science experiments that fizz and smoke. Things that can be built with nails, hammers and saws. And of course anything at all with mud. Ok, maybe these are some of his favorite things. I can get into the science stuff, and the building things I'm adequate at. I own my own power drill and can hang my own curtains, but I've never spent a lot of time building anything substantial. And the mud...at one time in my life I did enjoy the fine baking skills of mud pies, but now mud simply equals something I have to clean. Yes, I know he's a boy and yes, my yard is muddy and woody (on purpose), but I still have to clean what he brings in, which is not limited to feet, sneaker, muck boots, knees, pants, hands, elbows, face, hair, the dog, assorted insects and other random critters, sticks, and rocks to name a few. And I love when the door knob is covered in mud and I put my hand on it, oh the joy. But then I take a deep breath and remember that it's only mud, it does clean and this is actually what being a kid is all about. That I should be thankful he's not glued to the TV 100% of the time, but then I step in the pile of mud and just look upwards and ask God for a bit more patience, please.

Ok, I've totally digressed, back to fun little things to do that don't involved mud. Did you know there are some vegetable you can grow from scraps? Me neither. But after doing a bit of research here's a few that I found and how to do.

Romaine Lettuce
Put romaine lettuce stump in 1/2" of water and keep at that level. In a few days roots and new leaves will appear, you can transplant into soil.











Celery
Cut off the base of the celery and place in a cup or shallow bowl of warm water in the sun. Leaves will begin to grow from the middle of the stalk and can then be transferred to soil.



Basil
Put the basil clippings with 3-4" stems in a glass of water in direct sunlight. When the roots about about 2" long, plant in soil and no time you will have a full basil plant.

Scallions (green onions)
Regrow scallions by leaving an inch attached to the roots and place them in a small glass with a little water in a well-lit room. You can either replant or continue to grow in water.

So, if you're looking for some fun, simple experiments to do that yield edible results, here you go, enjoy.

Like Me? Share Me!

Yup, you may have guessed it (and I think I might have mentioned it), I'm new to this writing online, blogging, posting, using social media to-share-my-thoughts-with-you thing. With that in mind, I'm asking for your help. 

If you like what I'm writing about... SHARE ME! 

Email my blog URL to all your friends, Google +1 me, share my posts on Facebook, put me in you Google + circle of friends.

If you want to start a conversation, don't like what I'm writing about... POST A COMMENT!

I would love to hear what you have to say or what you want me to write about next.

If you want to write a post on my blog... LET'S TALK!

I'm open to having a guest writer and I would love the opportunity to guest write on someone else's blog, let's see what we can come up with.

SHARE, COMMENT & WRITE

Next Time Don't Give Them Their 1M Tweets of Fame

I was looking through my FB feed and came across several stories and memes like this one

and hearing about how racists are boycotting Star Wars VII. My first reaction was, "Are you an idiot? You must be some kinda special." And from what I gathered it's because one of the main characters is black. Now I watched one of the trailers a couple months ago, and I may or may not have seen a black character. Sorry, die hard Star Wars fans, I must have skimmed over it. Last time I checked out a Star Wars film, there were characters that had skin of ALL different colors. The Mos Eisley cantina scene from Star Wars IV comes to mind, talk about diversity. And now that I think about it, didn't Billy Dee Williams play Lando Calrissian in Star Wars V and Star Wars VI? 

Then I read a couple articles on what actually went on. It was a couple dumb-asses who wanted to start a racist hashtag trend on Twitter and people jumped on and when they retweeted, they slammed the idiots who started it all. It's fantastic to know that the majority of social media users are NOT racists, unfortunately what happened as a by-product was we gave the xenophobes exactly what they wanted, notoriety. They were made known to thousands on Twitter and there message of hate was spread, even though those retweeting were against it. Their intolerant words were given life.

Next time something like this happens WE, as in the larger collective, need to not feed their egos or their propaganda. 

Don't give them their 1M Tweets of Fame.

  

If You Don't Have a Clue - Stitch Fix

I used to like to shop for clothes, I've never loved it mind you. And once upon a time I had some semblance of style. Now I'm not claiming that I was stylish or trendy, but I didn't look like a hobo from the Great Depression. As of late my distaste for clothes shopping has grown stronger. I don't know if it's my lack of time to wander in and out of countless stores, attempting to put together great outfits or the fact I haven't a clue what any of the fashion styles or rules are these days.

Back in "the day" you couldn't mix metal jewelry, if you picked gold, everything needed to be gold, not so today & unless you were a punk rocker, you wouldn't be caught dead wearing boots or booties with a skirt. I have no idea what the fashion rules are and try as I might to read (ahem, look at pictures) Vogue or In Style while sitting on the john trying to take a pee in peace, inevitable the water closet door gets banged on or scratched by whatever mammal (human or other) decides that I don't deserve my five minutes of morning zen. So, I find myself totally Clueless wishing I had half the wardrobe of Cher, but all my brains. As I'm perusing Facebook, I stumbled across an ad for Stitch Fix, a site you can sign up for a personal stylist and they will send you clothes based on your preferences. I haven't signed up yet, but several of my friends have and like what their stylist has sent them. What's even better, if you don't like what they send you, stick it in a pre-paid envelope and send it back. It's really easy, I've watched my friends try on pieces that were really cute and if they didn't like one, just put it in the envelope and returned it. I'm waiting for them to get a couple more Fixes under their belts and I'll give it a try. God knows it sure won't hurt my style any.

If you have tried Stitch Fix, let me know what you thought, would love to hear from you.

Wish me luck!  

That Girl

Have you ever felt like you don't belong? Like you are the one standing outside the group and they keep turning and looking at you, whispering and then walking away? Have you ever tried to be a part of the group and they seem to accept you but you still feel like an outsider? Welcome to my world.

Growing up there were neighborhood kids, but for some reason I was never allowed to go in their houses and rarely allowed to play in their yards, even though their yards were right next to mine. I couldn't understand why and they sure didn't understand why. The limited interaction I had with them was when they were allowed to come in my yard and play in the sandbox or climb the apple tree. I often watched from afar groups of kids running around the block, playing tag or going to the corner store for penny candy. I didn't understand why I couldn't be a part of the fun and my parents offered no true explanation that made sense to a child and I still don't understand as an adult. What happened as the years passed was I became the "weird girl" and every time they did come over, their goal was to make me cry. Many times they succeeded. Sometimes I saw pity in their eyes and in the eyes of their parents. There were times they were not allowed to play with me, they were outside playing with the other kids, but I was not allowed to join. I understand this is normal playground politics, but when you have rocks thrown at you on a regular basis, it's more than just kids being kids. I had no self-confidence and had limited social skills. I was an outsider in that neighborhood, so when my parents decided to move, I was excited.

It was sixth grade and a new neighborhood, there were kids my age, both boys and girls. I was hoping I would have true friends. And yes, I made friends, but my parents didn't socialize with their parents and they were considered different, therefore again, I was considered different. I was constantly asked, "why don't your parents do this?" and "how come your parents do that?" by both my friends and their parents. My friends constantly made fun of me for things like using big words like conniving or for falling by accident. I didn't see them make fun of each other like they did to me. They were always wanting to do things with each other and I was always the second or third choice to do something with. This made me further doubt myself and remain very shy. This worsened through high school which was one of the most awkward social times for me, I absolutely hated high school. I tried dressing the way the popular kids did, acting like they did, doing my hair like they did, but I never fit it and I never felt good about myself.

Fast forward to today, I'm a grown-up who has had nothing but failed male/female relationships, has attempted suicide, has had an alcohol problem, hasn't fulfilled but one of her dreams (having a child) and still feels like an outsider. I have a couple good friends and family that I know would be there for me no matter what, but I still feel alone. I feel empty and unfulfilled, I feel like a failure in my career and as a mother, but I'm still trying to be a good person. I still feel like I'm on the outside of life and I don't know how to open the door to get in. I don't understand what I did wrong or how I got locked out and I don't know what to do to change it all. But it's a scary place to be. I'm exhausted from being labeled "that girl." I'm exhausted from trying to be me, that's all I'm trying to be is me and it's not good enough.