A Somber Post

     Usually my posts are positive, upbeat, and hopefully, amusing. Not so today. I am deeply troubled by the senseless murder of Danielle Thomas, in Queens, NY.  This is the most abhorrent of crimes. She was sleeping when he got home....that really got to me...

     I wrote a poem for Danielle today. Although I didn't know her, I feel tremendous pain and anger over her murder. I have a real problem with domestic violence, and the perpetrators...This is a senseless, and far too common crime. R.I.P. Danielle, and many others like her.  May their deaths not be in vain.

I Wish

I wish I could have saved you.

Your life ended far too soon.

I wish I could have protected you

As you lay sleeping in your room.

I wish I could have heard your pleas

As you cried out for help.

I wish I could have provided 

A safe haven where you could dwell.

I wish there could have been some way

That you would have survived.

I wish you were still here on earth,

I'm so sad you had to die.

An Odd Fetish

    

     Last night was a sleepless night for me. I always get keyed up when I attend school, especially the first night. I couldn’t stop my racing thoughts. Ideas were flying about in my psyche much like tourist helicopters fly over the East River. Class went well, although I usually tend to be somewhat intimidated in the beginning. Since this is a writing course, I believe I will feel at ease quickly. I am as comfortable writing as a politician is making empty promises… Ooh-I know-dripping with sarcasm. I couldn’t help myself.

     I have always had somewhat of a pen and pad fetish. (Odd, don't you think? Knowing me, are you surprised, really?)  Being back in school allows me to justifiably indulge my urges.  I had already purchased a new five subject notebook and pens for fall, as well as an unnecessary new journal, simply because it’s so pretty. Last night, however, Professor instructed us to purchase a small notebook for a Journaling assignment. No problem! I couldn’t wait to get to Target after class to peruse my options. I ultimately came home with two brightly patterned pads (remember-I only needed one), which will complement my ever increasing number of journals and notebooks of varied shapes and sizes, which are scattered haphazardly throughout my apartment.  As you know, organization is definitely not my strong suit when it comes to my writings.  I don’t know how I will ever achieve the extremely daunting task of organization. Maybe I will start by organizing my notebooks…that’s daunting enough!

Driving Alone 2 - Lost in Cranford

     I am back in school for Summer II, Creative Writing. First let me say that on Thursday I will be bringing my GPS along, because tonight…. I got lost driving home from school!  No-it’s not what you’re thinking-it wasn’t a “semi-senior” moment.  I have a valid reason for this total lack of navigational ability.  The college is paving one of the parking lots, so I had to exit from the back of the campus, which is actually quite large, much to my chagrin.  I wound up deep in the center of town, and had not a clue as to where I was. Luckily I crossed paths with a jogger, who enlightened me as to my location and proposed escape route...Between you and I, this was not the first time that I’ve gotten lost while being a mere 3 miles from home, which is probably why 30-something son bought me the GPS to begin with...

Ancestry, Interrupted

     This morning I was looking at my stats, which provide a non specific breakdown of who is viewing my blog. The first (and only) foreign country on there is Russia. I find this to be coincidental, since I am of Russian descent.

     For most of my life I believed I was half Polish and half Irish. I understood (from my Mom) that my Polish grandparents met as emigrants en route to America, and married here. I wonder who dreamed up that fairy tale?  The reality is that my grandfather was born in Petrograd, Russia, and my grandmother was born in… Jersey City. The only non fallacy is that they were married in this country.

     On to the Irish side. My mom had indicated to me that no one knew when her ancestors originally immigrated here from Ireland, as it occurred many generations back. Out of curiosity, I looked it up. It was actually her… grandfather.  Someone certainly got their facts mixed up, regarding both sides of the family.  If I want to find out anything about my roots, in most instances, Ancestry.com is the more reliable source.  For example, another misbelief is about my maiden name. Rumor has it that the name originally ended in “ski”, and that it was shortened upon my Grandfather’s arrival in America. A cousin of mine indicated to me that this was merely a joke that her father made up.  I managed to get my hands on the passenger manifest of the ship that my grandfather arrived on, and, you guessed it, his surname originally ended in “ski”. Did you ever hear of so many misconceptions in one family? It makes me wonder if anything I’ve learned about my ancestors has been accurate…It certainly doesn’t appear that way.

     So, upon learning that I am Russian, rather than Polish, I abandoned my imaginary Polish ancestry , as well as  years of traditionally serving Polish food on Easter, and I discarded my Polish cook book, subsequently replacing it with a Russian cook book. However, when I discovered that the main staples in their recipes are cucumbers, beets, and herring, and pickled at that, I retrieved my Polish cook book post-haste. Thankfully, one doesn’t have to be Polish to love kielbasa and pierogis.

Good News

     Well, I have good news and I have more good news. The 1^st tidbit of good news is that I earned an “A” in my “Introduction to Film” class. If I’d earned this many “A’s” in High School, I would have been in the Honor Society. Of course, I haven’t taken Algebra or Chemistry in college as yet. Those courses would certainly have an impact on my GPA, and not in a good way.

     The 2^nd tidbit of good news is that the tortoise just got a second lease on life. It had looked as if the tortoise was on her way out. I have noticed for a couple of weeks that the car just didn’t sound right. So, while I was out and about the other day, I stopped to see my mechanic so he could have a listen. Turns out the valves in the engine were responsible for making the racket, and this could have proved the car’s demise. That certainly stirred up a bit of panic. Luckily for me, my mechanic, who I have been utilizing for nearly thirty years, was able to put a band aid on the car’s engine which will carry me through awhile longer. (He is the true “miracle worker” in my estimation). So, while my car was in the shop, I drove one of the son’s cars…Did I mention that it is a car without air conditioning? And that we are still in the midst of that heat wave?  Not to worry, I had lots of practice last weekend, when I was driving the tortoise with the heater running… Have you detected a pattern here? We all drive these amazing cars! It’s amazing that they are still running at all!

An Amusing Look at Some Tell Tale Signs of Aging

 

Here are some tell tale signs that I have noticed about aging. They threaten even my determined state of denial:

What used to be fine lines are now crevices rivaling the San Andreas Fault.

Only very infrequently does anyone call me miss. On the rare occasion when someone does, I am tempted to bend down and kiss his feet. The problem with that is, I wouldn’t be able to get back up.

I only have to look at fattening foods, and I gain weight. Hence, I munch on a carrot stick while walking to the gym. I work out twice as hard as the youngsters do, only to lose half as much. How unfair is that? They have more energy than I do.

When I was young, I used Visine to get the red out of my eyes after a night on the town. Now my eyes are red from exhaustion, and Visine no longer works.

My sunglasses have been replaced by transitional bifocals, and my bikini by spandex shorts and a tank top. Sunbathing has been replaced by sitting under a beach umbrella, huddled in a towel because I’m cold.

The items in my medicine cabinet are also vastly different. I have Doan’s Pills for my aching back, Advil for leg cramps, and evening primrose oil for arthritis. Sun-in has been replaced by Miss Clairol, Clearasil by heavy duty moisturizer. I also have Prozac because I’m depressed. Who wouldn’t be?

A Day at the Beach

     This past Saturday I spent a glorious day at the beach. My beach of choice is Ocean Grove, NJ, or, what I like to refer to as “Victorian Lambertville by the Sea”. Generally, Ocean Grove is one of the quieter, less crowded beaches that I’ve come across. More often than not, there is ample parking at the beach entrance, which is obviously quite convenient. Such was not the case on Saturday, however, as there was an event, and the streets were already quite congested when we arrived. We drove around for about 20 minutes looking for parking, and all the while I was keeping a wary eye on the temperature gauge of my 17 year old tortoise of a car. As the engine temperature crept exceedingly higher, I was compelled to turn on the heater so the engine would not overheat. Did I mention that the outside temperature was 96 degrees Saturday? My friend and I nearly had a heat stroke by the time we parked. Not only that, but then we had to cart our overloaded beach bags, lounge chairs, and a tray of goodies from Dunkin Donuts, countless blocks up to the beach. In retrospect, I should have deposited my friend, armed with our week’s worth of essentials, by the beach, while I parked the car. How much easier would that have been? Hindsight really is 20/20. Speaking of hindsight, my friend indicated that she has a small dolly at home that would have been ideal for carting our stuff…. Great minds think alike!