Pregnant with Death

In the last trimesters of my two pregnancies my mind and body went into high states of anticipation. Physically I was full of child, round and healthy, a walking, talking, glowing clichè. Who cared that we were young and totally unprepared? My body was saying, “Let’s do this!”

Not me.

Mentally I went into the hormone zone. At night I dreamt of having twins or triplets, and literally juggling them (even though I can barely handle more than one bag in real life without dropping it) or forgetting they existed at all until learning they were grown without having ever known me. Gotta love those pregnancy hormones.

Recently I began noticing a parallel between my late term pregnancy time and my current existence. You see every night before I closed my eyes to sleep back then I’d think, “What if this is the night I go into labor?”

Now, as I near sixty, I sometimes wonder at bedtime, “What if this is the night I die?” It’s not as morbid as it sounds. I’m a healthy woman. I sleep well and eat a reasonably nutritious diet. After my bout with early stage breast cancer I am religious about having regular mammograms and other preventative medical exams.

But it’s as if I’ve become pregnant with death. 

I’m past those years of thinking I am invincible. I’ve lost friends who seemed full of life and possibility. I was with both of my parents as they died, and I was struck by just how effortless the final step was. They’d both suffered the indignities of long, painful illnesses, but when death finally came for them there was a release and a relief.

So sometimes at night the anticipatory thought comes to me. “What if this is it? What if this is the night I die?”

I say my prayers as always, for forgiveness, for the health and well-being of my family, for an end to wars, for any friends who’ve requested prayers, and I always end with a thank you. Because if I’m to go I want gratitude to be my final thought.

In the end I guess we are all “pregnant with death” and life is too precious to spend even a moment on dramas that separate families and friends. So forgive. And then forgive again. 

I’m not a big Max Lucado fan, but this I agree with.
 
Peace, people

If I leave tonight
my spirit will stay with you

I’ll love you always.

Define Reality

If I were asked to star in a reality tv show I’d instantly do two things:

  1. Say “no!”
  2. Examine my life and change whatever it is about it that made them ask me in the first place.

I might consider being part of something like American Pickers or Amazing Race otherwise, just don’t ask me.

Really! And no autographs, please.  

 Producers wanted me to be on Little Women as the world’s tallest little person. I declined. 
  
I turned down an offer from Mob Wives because Studly Doright is so not a mobster.

 

I still haven’t figured out what’s real about the women on these shows.

Studly and I sometimes discuss what a reality show featuring us would look like. He works hard, plays golf, rides a motorcycle. I write my little blog posts, read, cook poorly, and drink wine. We could star in “Extremely Boring People of Gadsden County.” Again, no autographs.

Peace, people!

Studly and the Second Amendment

Trust me on this, I’m not going to get political in this post, it’s simply a summary of a conversation Studly Doright and I had this afternoon in regard to the Second Amendmendent to the United States Constitution. 

First, here’s that amendment:

“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”

Normally Studly and I don’t discuss gun issues. We own a couple of guns, but the only time we plan to carry them is when we go to the shooting range to learn which end to hold and which to point. 

In other words, we have no plans to run around carrying weapons of deadly force in public. Ours are for snake killng, period.

But there are a whole lot of folks in this country who advocate for open carry of firearms. This gives me the willies for a couple of reasons. 1) how do I know this gun toter is sane and 2) how do I know this gun toter is sane. I could add more reasons, but they’d look just like reasons 1and 2.

The simple answer is there’s no way to know for sure, but in Texas now police officers are not allowed to ask a gun toter if he or she has a permit to carry. That seems counterintuitive: There exists legislation requiring gun owners to have proof of licensing, but the officers who are sworn to uphold that law are not allowed to make sure it’s being followed.

This is where Studly comes into the conversation. I read an article about the new Texas law aloud to him, voicing my concern. 

“Well,” said he, “I really don’t see what the problem is as long as the person is obeying the law. Once they step outside the law then police officers can take action.” Then he topped this off with, “It is a second amendment right after all, “‘to keep and bear arms.'”

That always infuriates me when someone isolates that phrase from the amendment, but instead of getting pissed, I said, “Arrgh!!!” Okay, maybe I got a little pissed.

“What?” Studly asked. “That’s what it says, right?”

Patiently I read the entire amendment to him. To me it’s black and white. The well regulated militia is key to the whole argument. But Studly believes that the phrase “well regulated” has more to do with the registration and licensing than with an actual organized militia.

Sigh. This seems to be the cause of much misunderstanding. Not just in my home, but in the nation. I’m not comfortable with folks carrying guns in public. I know all the arguments for and against. I know the propaganda and the emotions involved. 

I just wish we could evolve past the Wild West mentality. 

 

Peace, people. 

innocence lost

it took just seconds;
innocence slipped through fingers
too quickly to catch.

  
why should she feel shame
while he walked away unscathed?
and no one intervened.

 
suffer the children
to come unto him, she read
did that include her?

 

I know this is a heavier topic than I usually cover, but we must start noticing and taking action against those who victimize our children. 

WordPress Forum

Since I am not sure how to directly contact someone at WordPress (do they hide that information on purpose?) I thought I’d try to post something on the forum, but I’m not even sure if I’m doing that correctly.

First, I want to thank WP for providing me a forum and an outlet. Also, my articles are now sharing correctly on Facebook. For awhile there, every post was being treated as a photo in spite of my settings.

On the other hand, I believe the stats have been incorrect for several weeks. As an example I posted a piece earlier today (5-18-15) and have had at least eight notifications that this post has been “liked” but only two views appear in my stats. 

I understand that some folks might just click “like” without having read the post, but several of these people don’t follow me. I’d have to think they’ve actually visited my blog and read the post in order to “like” it.

This phenomenon isn’t limited to today’s post, but it’s the first day I’ve kept track of the number of notifications.

I know my blog is small potatoes, but they’re my potatoes and I’d like them properly counted.

Thanks,

Leslie Noyes 

Criminal Minds

I’ve shared glimpses of my mild addiction to the television drama, Criminal Minds, on a couple of occasions. 

By “mild” I mean that I’m ok if I go a day, even two without watching an episode. By “addiction” I mean that if I’m home and an episode of Criminal Minds is playing on any channel, regardless of the number of times I’ve already seen said episode, I will stop whatever I’m doing and watch it again.

And if I’m lucky enough to catch a re-airing of an episode I’ve never watched before, a feeling of euphoria sets in–it’s a high, I admit it. 

I wouldn’t call this a disabling addiction; I mean I function fairly well in my normal life except when CM is on the telly. The problem is, one can pretty much find an episode playing anytime, day or night. So, if the dishes stack up in the sink, or if the beds go unmade, Criminal Minds is most likely the culprit.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I have housework to do, but first I might need to check the TV listings.
Peace, people!

  

Invisible

Nationwide Insurance airs a commercial in which actress Mindy Kaling comes to the conclusion that she is invisible because she feels that way much of the time.

In restaurants servers walk right by her. On the sidewalk she goes unnoticed. In the course of the advertisement Mindy embraces her invisibility and begins to take advantage of it (see photo below).

With many folks this theme won’t resonate at all, but I totally get it. I’m the woman who after being seated at a table in a cafe will eventually have to flag down a waiter, who’ll then say, “oh, I didn’t see you sitting over there.”

Hello?! I’m five feet, eight inches tall and have bright red hair. How can someone not see me?

And I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve checked in with the receptionist at the salon or the doctor’s office or the auto dealership only to sit for an hour or more before someone notices me and says, “Oh, Ms. Noyes, have you been here all this time?”

I guess I am partly responsible for my invisibility. The minute I’m seated out comes my book and the world around me disappears. Apparently, so do I.

In the Nationwide ad Mindy finally gets noticed by a bulked up basketball player when she shamelessly fondles his bicep. I wonder how long I could get away with a stunt like that if I kept my nose in a book? It might be worth a try.

“Invisible Mindy” helps herself to ice cream

Peace (and notice me) People!

Feeling Nerdy

I stopped in at Fallout Comics in Tallahassee today where they were celebrating “free comic book day” by giving away, you guessed it, free comic books!

Many of my fondest memories revolve around comic books: Tales from the Crypt, Archie, Richie Rich, Superman, and Fantastic Four, among others, and it was fun to see several generations of fellow nerds browsing through the stacks in the store, often in family groups. 

Comic book stores have evolved considerably since my day, though. Now the graphic novel and role-play games make up a large portion of the inventory. 

Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?

After finding the droid I was looking for (above) I headed to the back of the store to visit with a group of local artists who were busy promoting their own projects. One young man’s work stood out from the crowd, so I pledged a bit of money to his Kickstarter campaign. His name is Daniel Hooker, and his work is outstanding.

While I was figuring out the Kickstarter process Daniel sketched a picture of one of my favorite comic book characters from the expanded Star Wars Universe just for me.:

 

Mara Jade

 If you’re interested in learning more about Daniel’s project go to Kickstarter and search Line of Ruin. I believe you’ll be impressed.
And if you haven’t read a comic book since you abandoned your teen years, it’s high time to renew your acquaintance. 

Peace, people.

Eternal Love (or the next best thing)

As a modern, open-minded and sexually-awakened (whatever the hell that means) woman, I thought I’d seen just about everything. But nooo! As I was browsing my Facebook page today I came upon this little gem:

Because love never dies: Put your loved one’s ashes in a glass dildo 
In 1901 Dr. Duncan “Om” MacDougall began a series of experiments wherein he placed elderly, terminal tuberculosis patients on massive industrial scales, hospital bed and all. MacDougall weighed six subjects before and after death, and concluded from the postmortem weight loss that the human soul weighs 21 grams—hence the name of designer Mark Sturkenboom‘s “memory-box.”
With 21 Grams Sturkenboom has managed to create an opportunity for a truly libidinalmourning experience. The “kit” comes in a sleek, Jobsian case, openable only with a key that doubles as a lovely pendant necklace. Inside you find an atomizer bulb (to spritz your beloved’s perfume), a set of internal speakers to amplify music from the iPhone dock in the back, and a blown-glass dildo containing a tiny urn of ashes—21 grams of ashes, to be precise. Sturkenboom describes the project thusly:

21 Grams is a memory-box that allows a widow to go back to the intimate memories of a lost beloved one. After a passing, the missing of intimacy with that person is only one aspect of the pain and grief. 
This forms the base for 21 Grams. The urn offers the possibility to conserve 21 grams of ashes of the diseased and displays an immortal desire. By bringing different nostalgic moments together like the scent of his perfume, ‘their’ music and reviving the moment he gave her her first ring, it opens a window to go back to moments of love and intimacy.She is able to have an intimate night with her sweetheart again.
Before you go all Social Justice Warrior on Sturkenboom for the heteronormativity of “widow,” (for who wouldn’t want to be penetrated by a loved one’s earthly remains, regardless of gender or marital status?!?), the inspiration for 21 Grams” is actually an elderly widow—he sometimes helps her carry her groceries. Sturkenboom noticed the urn containing her husband’s ashes, remarking, “she always speaks with so much love about him but the jar he was in didn’t reflect that at all.”

Sturkenboom has not said whether or not his muse is flattered by his tribute.

Yes, should Studly Doright precede me in death I can take steps to insure that he is with me always. I hope my second husband, Bradley Cooper, is okay with this arrangement. 

And if I should precede the Studmeister? Maybe they’d construct a fitting receptacle from my ashes. Too much? Dahling, puhlease!

Peace, People!