The TV shows’ seasons have all been drawing to a close over the past week and I have noticed that the finales have changed dramatically over the years. Lots of shows, that I have been watching over the past five years, have become soporific and hardly mediocre, although still keeping me riveted to the screen. They have just become my family and I need to see their lives concluding in some form or other. I am captivated by them no matter how hard I try to tear my face away.
I remember the good old days when I closed my eyes through Prison Break. I was actually gripping my blanket and digging my nails into my palms praying it would end safely. In each episode there were moments where my hands were covering my ears so that I wouldn’t hear the music that skillfully heightened my fear levels to unbearable capacities. The gut wrenching, heart stopping, and deep resonating sounds. I am cringing thinking about the scenes I could hardly sit through. At a certain point I just couldn’t watch any longer and stopped. I needed to wait until the season completed to see the rest, so that I wouldn’t be left a week or two anxiously awaiting the next episode at the edge of my chair. You can’t live like that. It is constant worry. Read the rest of this entry
I was reading through Salt&Nectar’s blog, and I began to realize that ‘having nothing to wear’ is the prevalent saga of women today. When we have closets brimming with years worth of lightly worn clothing and still, after hours of searching, something befitting (or fitting) for the moment, is indubitably nonexistent.
I know how it happens, and I am pretty sure it’s impossible to prevent this from occurring. It never ceases to amaze the men how they send their significant other into the bedroom to get dressed, with even the largest of wardrobes, and still after two hours of waiting, she returns clad in nothing but her lingerie. Yes, it took her two hours to find underwear that fit. It is so simple, I can’t understand why men are so hardheaded that they can’t comprehend.
This is how it begins. You stock up on pretty underwear, sexy little lingerie Read the rest of this entry
Ever notice how people feel the need to conceal their true feelings to others for the fear of being smitten? Let me explain. Strangely, people associate desire with sin. It is not always sin, you know. We are allowed to yearn, dream, and wish. It is part of being human and having the ability to have requests.We are entitled to feelings and emotions. Like I said, we are human. We can’t even prevent it most of the time.
I have met pregnant women who, upon being asked about whether they want a boy or a girl, answered faster than you can finish the question with a “I don’t care. As long as the baby is healthy.” Who ever said it is one or the other. You can have a preference. Obviously, if it was an option of a healthy child and the sex you don’t care very much for, and an unhealthy child with the sex you do care for, most definitely you would choose the healthy. Just because there are couples out there that are not so lucky to be blessed with children, does not leave you at fault for longing for a son or a daughter. You have nothing to do with them. You are you and they are them. Women suddenly become saints and have no wishes. They feel like they must respond as such or they would be viewed as a cruel and heartless creature.
I have asked women how their birth experience was. Liars. I must tell you they are liars. Not all, but most. They start babbling endlessly how amazing and wonderful. That the pain was exhilarating and when they saw their baby it was all suddenly worth it. The experience was beyond words. They were in a total place of zen and just sang softly to themselves. It was truly an extraordinary event. But was it painful? No. Nothing I could not handle. It was just amazing. Read the rest of this entry