Love – the motivation for bail money

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If this doesn’t sum up the love we all have for our partner and yet… no one really wants to talk about it (especially Disney). We deserve to be told the truth about love when we are growing up, why is it such a secret? It only creates disappointment by not being prepared.

One day you can’t stop smiling, can’t stop laughing, can’t stop thinking about that getaway you are planning, and either later that day or the next, your thoughts turn to – how to make it look like an accident – but you don’t, nor would you, follow through. Why? because that is what love is.

Taking the good days with the bad; the sheer bliss with the overwhelming desire to run as far as the dirty crumpled dollar bill, warm gummy bears, and torn tissues in your pocket will take you… the compromises, the stolen glances that still make your heart beat just a bit faster… It’s a packaged deal and there is no way that your relationship will last if you don’t know this going into it.

Love gives you more patience than you ever thought imaginable. It also gives you motivation to start a collection – also known as bail money.

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In hot pursuit of failure….

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“If you are not failing, you are probably not trying as hard as you should be” – George Church

A simple concept brought to a new level and makes me kick myself for not thinking it first. This isn’t your run of the mill daily failure –  this is the – kicking ass and trying thousands of different ways to achieve your goal, knowing deep down in your mind and heart that it will work, it will.

I read this great article about George Church, Ph.D., with whom I had never heard of before because I do not run in those circles, but was just inspired (and a bit jealous) of the life he has lived to this point. The ups and downs, the so-called ‘breaks’ he thinks he has been given, the passion for science and discovery….

If you have five minutes I strongly recommend this read,  if just for the glimpse of what life has to offer every single one of us, just keep pursuing it, for it is the successes and more importantly the failures, that push us to greatness.

http://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2016/05/if-youre-not-failing-youre-probably-not-trying-as-hard-as-you-could-be/

“I have not failed. I have found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” – Thomas Edison

You are missing from me….

I miss you

I miss you

When I read this post from my friends FB page, it hit me, hit me hard actually. I can’t put a finger on it, but the literal translation from French seems to be so much more accurate when your heart is broken from missing someone…..

I just had to share.

Auto paintball?

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I have played paintball and apparently I played the more painful but lame version because it had nothing to do with shooting at cars as they drove by. I walked away with welts and bruises that I was proud to show off for about a week.

My little Spicegurl didn’t sign up for a paintball session, she didn’t deserve this harassment! She was so happy this day; brand new brakes, oil change, soapy bath, and her only crime was to be driving in the wrong neighborhood (clearly all my fault and the guilt that goes with it).

How does this make some cowardly punk feel good? You don’t get to see my pissed off face when I finally notice the hit (that would at least give a person some satisfaction and a quick laugh). You don’t get to see me spend money on paint remover praying that it only takes off the paintball paint and not ruin the finish. You hit me and I drove off unknowingly. Big deal. Boring.

If you are such a great shot on a moving target with a crappy gun, do something courageous and useful, join the military or police. But you won’t. You will hide behind your laziness, your weakness, and never actually LIVE life, but just e x i s t for many years. Too bad for you; you are missing out on some great fun!

How YOU doin’ ?

new glasses for me

Midlife crisis in 3…2…1…which means I have to live to 100, otherwise I am late for my own midlife crisis and I hate being late for anything!

Change jobs, check. Cut off all my hair, check. Circa late 1980 aviator sunglasses, check. Hmm what’s next? Love the Mini, so sports car is out. Suggestions?

Although I am more than likely experiencing a midlife crisis, this is ‘technically’ not an Adventure in the Mini category. Goose and I took the train to a 2-hr harbor ride on a three mast schooner and the weather could not have been more perfect. A relaxing sail though Boston Harbor, meeting new people, sharing many laughs, and enjoying each other’s company was an exceptional way to spend one of the last remaining summer days in New England. The memories will last forever and that is what it is all about. Making memories with the ones you love.

side schooner sailSummer is all about beach, boating, and warmth, but my favorite season is autumn – so only a few more weeks and its off to Salem for some w i c k e d fun!

Ambitchous….

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There is a fine line between a woman ‘standing up for herself’ and being a ‘bitch’. I have yet to find that line but I am sure it exists; more often than not, I get the ‘bitch’ label. For those of you that have said it to my face (on many occasions), you can agree that my response has always been, and will always be: stop kissing up.

I have to say that my super-cranky reaction to a situation is just that; a reaction. I am by no means searching out scenarios in which to wield my highly explosive intolerance for stupidity.

The first (and most repetitive interaction) typically involves me waiting in line and getting cut off, as though I have hit my ‘stealth button’ and instantly became invisible. The millisecond response from me is always an unwaivering, ‘are you kidding me?!”  For some reason that seems to startle the offender and wakes them up to the fact that they are no longer on their lonely planet of “I” and must abide by the simple rules of society and it’s strongly recommended guidelines of ‘wait your friggin turn’.

There are times where adults are not pointing out their children’s misbehaving and I have to take things into my own hands. Example: at a college open house for Goose, potential students (17-18 yrs) and their parents are sitting in an amphitheater getting the background on the school and what they offer, finances, etc. and the three young miscreants with their mother were talking loudly and laughing throughout the whole seminar. It was not until the continuously full-blown kicking of my chair, did I spin my head faster than Regan from the Exorcist, and gave my, “are you kidding me??!!” to which the young men horrified, stood up and said they would wait outside. Good call because next comes the pea soup vomit while talking in tongues and no one wants that.

Other times, a good friend needs to have that certain someone on their side, that friend with a bit more bravado then they do. So… while in a Chinese restaurant with my friend (we will call her Shrink because she is one) and her boyfriend were sitting at a crowded bar, I hear a woman complaining to her boyfriend that Shrink is being loud and obnoxious. Really? We are sitting three people away in a packed bar and the only voice you can hear is Shrink laughing and telling stories. Hold the phone and call Oscar Goldman because a new Jaime Sommers is in town! (that’s a late 70’s reference for you kiddos) but I digress. I walked over to her and called her out on it, citing the fact that it’s a loud bar and there is no way she should be calling my friend names without provocation. As she turned to her boyfriend and started to curse about me, I kindly noted that I was not using profanity in any way and name calling wasn’t necessary… just apologize to my friend. The boyfriend stood up (a good 6 inches taller than me) and became aggressive to which I stood my ground and said that he was not part of the conversation, I was talking to his foul mouthed girlfriend. He then called me a bitch (yes I had to say, stop kissing up, it’s a natural reaction) and then he poked me in the shoulder a few times. I nicely reminded him that unwanted poking is considered assault and that seemed to warrant him screaming me a few other choice words but stopped the poking. No better way to show your pea-sized brain than to scream profanities; boring, yawn, over it.

So you see, I have been mislabeled and misunderstood my whole life. I will not be walked on or overlooked. I demand as much space in this world as the big jerks that seem to be taking over.

(P.S. if you know to whom I owe credit for this awesome intro picture please let me know!)

The ‘burbs meet concrete jungle

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A very interesting combination for its residents; the ‘burbs and its beautiful flowers, shrubbery, terraces, and fresh air meets the concrete jungle of city living – Habitat 67.

Habitat 67 – I had never heard of it until the Goose and I took a last minute road trip in the Mini this weekend to Montréal (her suggestion of course). The World’s Fair, held in Montréal in 1967 prompted a McGill architectural student to conceive this housing complex. Currently, 146 residences sit on a peninsula (of sorts) in the St. Lawrence River, jutting out from the Old Montréal port.

The “last minute unscheduled trip” lives in the world of mystery – waking up in another country after a few hours’ drive is something I don’t think I would ever get used to but would love to do on a weekly basis. We did cram quite a bit of walking, eating, and history into a just a day, but where are all my pictures?!! Looks like I need to go back sooner than later…. (YES!!)