The shoes have been bought. The task is complete. If god is good to me, I won’t have to do anything like this for at least two more years.
Shoes
I’m off again on a quest to find shoes that won’t horrify everyone at the wedding in Vegas next month. I can’t believe I actually have to go out shopping twice to find them. And I stand by my original belief on this matter. If god had wanted us to wear pointy shoes, he would have given us pointy toes.
I wonder if they make a dressy sneaker in black?
Questions that need to be seriously asked
Between Tom Cruise and Richard Gere, who do you most want to just slap till he goes away? Between Paris Hilton and Brittany Spears, who would it most scare you to have represent our civilization to aliens from space? Is there truly any justification anywhere in this universe for the existence of anyone connected with any show that involves eating disgusting things and then acting as though that is a breakthrough for mankind?
Absurdly scary and scarily absurd
Last week, in your very own good morning newspaper, there were two stories that, taken together, constitute some of the scariest stuff I’ve read in quite a while. The stories ranged from the sublimely frightening to the absurdly scary.
The sublimely frightening story concerned Afghanistan where a Muslim convert to Christianity faces death because of his conversion. That in and of itself is neither new nor particularly scary. Religions have been killing people for thousands of years in the name of their supposedly just and merciful god.
What was scary about this particular case was this quote from the judge
Memories can sure shake you up
I opened my e-mail today to find a note from someone I don’t know about a beautiful young man who died in Vietnam almost 30 years ago. Our connection is apparently a mutual friendship with that young man. What memories came flooding back when I saw Paul DuCharm’s name in the subject line. It took my breath away. Sometimes we get so busy living in the present that we forget the emotions of the past, of the time when we were young and hopeful and out to change the world. That time is gone now. And I believe my generation
The headline reads….
The headline on MSN reads, “Minister’s wife confused”. Well, first of all she’s his widow now, not his wife. And secondly, what’s to be confused about. She shot him. Duh!
The fine art of writing…from Alaska Women Speak Spring 2006
Here’s the thing about writing. Given the chance, I can be distracted by something as simple as a dust mote falling. That’s all I need to know that I should clean the house before I can continue my assignment so that my allergies don’t flare up while I’m working. And if my creativity is not exactly flowing easily by then, that dust mote could also mean that I need to clean my garage, my yard, my neighborhood and my city. But honestly, I eventually will get back to the task at hand…whatever that might have been.
Anyhow, as I was
My heart breaks a little at a time
Mr. T now wants to be carried for some of our daily walk. For 14 years we have walked three miles a day in every kind of weather condition from 30 below on the tundra outside of Barrow to 80 above on a hot summer day in Anchorage. He always liked the cold best. Now, as spring is arriving and the snow is melting, his back legs seem to be getting weaker. He can make most of the walk but towards the end, if I pick him up for the uphill part of the journey, he doesn’t fight or get
My parents may have had Sinatra but…
In my childhood, Sinatra was the epitome of the Italian boy made good. Today, the Italians of my generation have George Clooney. If he ever ran for president – and he should – I think I would finally move out of my lethargy and into my sixties active mode. Meanwhile, I’ll just enjoy looking at him. Way to go, Italian boy.
Am I the only one….
Am I the only one who, when buying a Barry Manilow CD, pretends she’s buying it for someone else?