Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Flashback

A friend of mine sent me that email - you know the one, "If you were a little girl in the 70s you..." Well, some of that stuff I swear was from the 80s, but a few of them struck nostalgic chords, why I've even got picture proof of three of them. The other three pictures were just so weirdly 70s I had to add them. This also begs the question of my little sister, was there ever a time we DIDN'T dress alike?

Enjoy!

Monday, February 6, 2006

A Bloody Groundswell

I was born in 1957 and am newly innaugurated into the peri-pre-whatever menopausal ranks. That being said, I have a question.

Why, as history will attest, if women my age have always been on the leading edge of trends, then why must we take a back seat to pregnant women in our need for medical guidance through this liberating stage of our lives!? I live in a relatively small metro area, yet I have been relegated to the 'newer' OB/GYN doctors since all of the 'recommended' doctors have closed practices, and my appointments have to be booked out a month in the future - in deference to the doctors' birthing patients. Yes, it's true that clinically its all the same plumbing, but there are WAY too many differences in what WE at this age are going through, compared to what newly pregnant moms are experiencing.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not drawing a line in the sand, I'd just like to see a physician specialization that deals solely with pre, peri, and menopausal women, so we don't have to take a back seat to the ones on the other side of the spectrum, (or speculum, as it were) in making our appointments.

Is there anyone else out there that is feeling this same thing?

Sunday, February 5, 2006

GO SEAHAWKS!


Merry Christmas!

There is nothing that embodies this holiday for me better than finally having the cards sent out, and then opening the mailbox and finding cards from family and friends. Sometimes, there are pictures, sometimes notes, sometimes just a signature. Sometimes, this is our one and only contact point of the year. But this tradition, this yearly ritual of reaching out and saying 'Hi, I know you and I think enough of you to keep your name in my address book' this reconnecting; has become, for me, the heart of this jolly old season. Not the the angels, the mangers, and wise men.

There are some in my family that would call that blasphemy. I come from a long line of Southern Baptists who can be described with words like missionary, evangelical, and prayerful. They would say that Jesus is the Reason for the Season. Jesus, as they are not shy about saying, is their reason for everything. Well, that's OK. Over the years, I think we've learned to accept each other's beliefs - to agree to disagree as it were. I've toned down my need to battle their views, and they've learned not to try to sell me theirs, and most importantly, that I'm not an evil horned devil.

I have my own relationship and ideas of God and religion. Much like my extended family includes divorces, remarriages, step children, and half siblings, in-laws and outlaws; my spirituality includes a 'taped together' God. A little pagan, a little Buddhist, some Jewish, some historical Christianity and a whole lot of community caring - just not much Jesus. I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas in the spirit of the season and in the spirit of reconnecting. I believe in sharing and smiling and giving and staying in touch with others - Christmas season or not.

Saturday, February 4, 2006

This from Meegan is THE most beautiful thing I've ever read....

January 30, 2006
one last goodbye

His body was donated to science, as was his wish. Prior to the medical school picking him up, she lovingly attached a picture to his shirt. It was of him during his younger, healthier years. In addition to the picture she wrote a note that read, "This was a wonderful man. He lived a long, rich, full life. We hope you learn much from his body. Please treat him with respect." She placed Hershey Kisses in his pockets and said goodbye one last time.

Friday, February 3, 2006

Going Postal in Goleta

My 30 year high school reunion is scheduled for July of this year. This means two things - the first thing is, that I have to lose 30 pounds and tone up my flabby arms and abs without seeming to actually care about whether or not this magical transformation takes place; the second thing is that I get to see my 3 best friends in person.

The first thing, although worrying about it, and goal planning, and rationalizing missed deadlines, does take up most of my waking hours, is not really the most important - seeing all three of my bestest friends in the whole wide world is - and there is danger of this not happening, a danger almost as real as me not losing 30 pounds.

Toad and Tami are on board with me, but Wheat, only recently having relocated from our home town, is now finding it hard to rationalize returning. I understand her reluctance, even more so in light of Goleta's recent press - which prompted this email volley...

To: Wheat; Margeaux
From: Toad
Subject: Going postal in Goleta

Go figure.....
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11107022/

To: Toad; Wheat
From: Margeaux
Subject: Going postal in Goleta

I KNOW! I finally got through to SB Newspress and looked at the victims
names... no one I knew, but jee golly willikers, that's a little close
to home! No official word on who the shootist was yet, but I'm hoping
it's NOT a menopausal DP alumnus, class of 76!

To: Toad; Margeaux
From: Wheat
Subject: Going postal in Goleta

Maybe her coworkers were trying to make her go to her 30th high school reunion. hee hee hee hee heeeeeee they're coming to take me away ha ha ho ho hee hee to the funny farm where life is wonderful all the time and all the men wear clean white coats......yeah I know....I'm going to hell......

To: Toad; Wheat
From: Margeaux
Subject: Going postal in Goleta

Um, no.... you're going to your 30th high school reunion... which, I realize could be likened to hell in some ways... but if you really think about it, if it really is hell, then hell really isn't such a bad place after all now is it?