Stream of Consciousness: Live From New York!

It’s Sunday. It’s Stream of Consciousness Sunday.

It’s “live” from New York! It’s Saturday Night Live!

Obviously, it’s not SNL but it is both, Sunday (too early) and time for stream of consciousness writing.

Five minutes.         Unedited.     Published.

Looking out my window at 6:30 am (way too early), I see the lights of Time Square reflected off the neighboring office building. The lit up billboards are doing their constant blinking thing in the “city that never sleeps”. I’m okay with it because I really don’t sleep either so New York and I have always gotten along perfectly.

I’m halfway through my trip and I hate thinking that way but it always pops into my mind when I’m halfway to home again. Mixed emotions! I love it here but miss home a little too.

I’ve eaten way too much good food. Thai. ITALIAN (the real good kind!). Pizza (not as good as Chicagos) and Sushi. A street vendor's pretzel.

I’ve walked about 20 miles in two days taxis take far too long to move through the mess and tangle of cars, trucks, buses and PEOPLE. And the people are everywhere.

The weekend days/nights are a blast, filled with action and the "let’s see where the wind blows " kind of days. We happpily get swept up in all the commotion.

The last two times I’ve visited, the 9/11 Memorial was messy and underconstruction. Today, we have tickets to finally see it. It’s time.

And tomorrow begins the work week. It will be quieter around here. Hopefully.

I will do one of my very favorite things to do by myself in NYC. Something I used to do when I traveled here often and had a break in my day.

I will meander through The Met (Metropolitan Museum of Art) and relax. Sip coffee. Wander slowly. And check out what used to be my favorite exhibit there…Rodin. I’m miss “Eternal Spring”. But tomorrow I shall see it.

All alone. Perfect.

And meet a friend for dinner someplace really yummy!

STOP!!!

Trifecta: Absence

Sometimes the absence of conversation is what you need. What you want.

“We” needed to be together and we had the time.

True. I was avoiding work, other things, but really, it was about "our" sweet friend needing us.

It's WAY Too Crowded Up Here!

Today’s Writing Prompt: What feels overwhelming to you right now and how are you coping?

Here we go…

Right this minute. This very minute. What feels overwhelming to me?

I feel overwhelmed that I haven’t had a minute since Thursday to sit down and write. I understand this is not a big thing or an important thing and it’s truly been a fun thing but when you have a mind like mine, or like yours, who’s habit is to write something every single day, or more than one thing in a day, things get messy and confusing up there. Writing helps me sort things out and housekeep (sweep the stuff out) A day without writing feels just plain weird. To me!

Inside my brain, there is wrestling going on. All the moments of the weekend, all the things I’m thinking about, all the places my imagination has been or is headed…they all want out and they are becoming increasingly impatient. Think bouncing off the walls. They want out NOW. No, not now, they wanted out yesterday or Friday. And things have been getting shoved up there since Thursday!

So, how am I writing at this very minute without a minute to spare? I made up an excuse and I ran up to my bedroom and hid. But since I’m doing this five minute thing, no one SHOULD miss me or even notice but they will. Someone will need something. Someone will want to do something or go somewhere and t hen my time is someone else’s. Its tough stuff being wanted all the time (tongue in cheek, for sure ;-) )  when all you want is just five minutes to spare.


I JUST GOT A TEXT. IN MY BED. FROM DOWNSTAIRS. WHAT???

See what happens to my mind when it doesn’t write. It becomes crowded. Then disorganized, then frustrated and this is the result.

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Stream of Consciousness Sunday 

All Things Fadra

As a note after my five minutes were up, I’ve got plenty of material from the weekend to fill a whole week’s worth of writing. At least that feels really good to my mind!

God Bless those who are currently serving our country, keeping us safe and providing us with the freedom to live as we do! And God Bless those who have secured that freedom in the past!

Can Always Count On Friends For Compliments

(Did I mention I'd be writing a lot this week?)

I received some fabulous flattery today…

It was perfect, to me, not only because of what was said but who delivered it. She knows me like the back of her hand and her opinion of me is one of only a handful that truly matters. Everyone else…you know how it is. I am who I am and I don’t plan to changed much at this point in my life. Probably couldn’t even if I tried but there’s really no desire. I’m not terribly offensive anyway, at least a majority of the time.

So when Susie, “my sister from another mister”, paid me this compliment today, on the golf course, no less, I burst into a smile so wide my cheeks hurt. Or maybe it was because of the side splitting laughing fit we just had over something ridiculous, VERY stupid and not at all repeatable. Not everyone appreciates my humor the way she does and likewise.

Susie said, “You’ve raised your level of sassiness lately. I absolutely love it!”

“Thank you! I'm so proud.”

“I mean, you really were before but I don’t know what’s your deal. And I’m not being sassy either. You're kinda crazier."

Ok, I’ll keep it up anything as long as someone is amused.

Attitude, in large doses, has never been an issue for either one of us so I was very appreciative of this acknowledgement and my recent efforts of late. She claims it’s been  since my birthday. Go figure.

I wonder. Who would win a “Sass-Off” between the two of us?

I know she can beat me in arm wrestling but I think I’ve got her here.

Am I the only one who would take this as a compliment?

Right back atcha, Sister!!!

It’s Just “Caddy Shack” To Me

 Decisions. Decisions!

This was my fourth, and possibly last, week smacking that little white sucker all over freaking place, then back again. Plain and simple, I stink at golf. Maybe I’d be a little better if I tried harder, but I don’t believe I have the desire (or the skill?).

Let’s weigh it out, shall we?

Pros:

-       Breathtaking mornings spent outside walking hills

-       3 hours knocking around with two very close friends talking all kinds of crazy s#$t

-       Swearing slides right by

-       Bar Cheese on Ritz Crackers at the Halfway House plus hot coffee ALWAYS equals a breakfast of champions

-       Using my clubs to practice the baton twirling learned at summer camp when young

-       Working on the tan albeit causing strange lines

-       Easy to say, “Hole over! Give me a 10.”

-       Cute caddies

Cons:

-       Don’t really care for the sport

-       Friends give me sad puppy dog eyes when I say “but I just don’t wanna.”

-       Sucks to suck

-       Clothes are not attractive, AND no one looks really good in them except “Cookie” who’s a size 2 and wears short skirts (she looks good)

-       And don’t get me started on the U-G-L-Y SHOES

-       Takes up way too much time

-       Diminishes my math skills. I can subtract 5 from 9 yet “How many more holes?”

-       Makes people crabby and whine or maybe just me

-       IT IS NOT EXERCISE

-       Elicits an unfocused feeling when in reality focus is just fine

-       Not a beach but too much water and sand

-       Balls act as water seeking missiles, see above

Did I already mention I totally suck?

And if you love this sport, more power to you. I do not share your view.

She Reads My Mind: My Best Friends

I have three women that I consider to be the closest of the close, bestest of the best, friends. There is very little they don’t know about me (with a few exceptions and one being that I write in this space).

Cristina, I have known since the day she was born yet she’s always lived across the country. We don’t speak often enough and see each other even less but when we do, time melts away and so does everyone else, for that matter. We have a lifetime of history.

Maggie, my best friend from college and city roommate, is the single person who knows where I’ve hidden all my skeletons since age 18. She knows what I’ve done and where I’ve been and loves me. We lead very different lives and proximity isn’t on our side but she’s the one I call when I have a problem, need to talk things through or for a good smack up side the head when I’m due (and I gladly walk right into it, by the way). She’s God loving and uber rational.

Then there’s Susie.

(Expressing our love for sweets at a pastry shop in Positano, Italy)

She’s my “sister from another mister”. Friends call us “Frick and Frack”. We are constantly asked if we're sisters and once even twins. It makes us laugh because we don’t see it. I have the pleasure of seeing her, talking with her, or just quickly texting her every single day.

I have known her the shortest, just 16 years, and we both can tell you the exact moment we became friends. It was a glance, then our eyes met full on, and we rolled them at the very same time at something being said. We were the only two in a room full of people who “got it”. It was instant. 

Sue is more like me than anyone else on this planet. It’s almost scary and sometimes, it is, because she’s just as saucy. 

We have a crazy affect on each other even when we aren’t doing much at all. When one is a little out of control, the other is standing right there either actively participating in the shenanigans and most certainly egging them on but always protective. We thoroughly amuse each other and have more fun, laugh harder than with any other friend. Maybe I should ask her if she feel the same way?

We share a love of food, family, sweets, Stuart Weitzman and Jimmy Choo, sassy jeans, movies, fitness, travel (she’s my roommate for life on girls’ trips), spontaneous adventure and a million other things.

The one thing we do not share is a love of GOLF. And because I have a difficult time saying “No” to her, I’m now golfing every Tuesday morning. Help me now.

The biggest difference with Susie is that she can read my mind, or just about. She can look me square in the eyes, her green to my blue, tilt her head slightly and squint, looking right inside. And she’ll know.

When she started a recent conversation with “I don’t know what….”, then “You better…” then “Don’t you mess up my…”, and "I feel the same…” I know I’m in for a talking to so I have no choice but to listen to my "baby sister" because without me saying one word she knows what she knows.

How does she do that? Magic?

Pranks: One Old and One New

RemembeRED: Write On Edge

I was the boss of all things being the older sister. Pointing the finger at him was my usual M.O. We were 8 and 10.

Dad was stern and structured. Could be the years he spent in military boarding school? He ALWAYS put his things where they belong with everything lined up perfectly including his dress shoes for work. (I did NOT inherit this trait)

Surely it was his idea to crack eggs in my father’s shoes on April 1st. No further explanation needed except to say there were lots of chores with no allowance for months. Going forward, all we stuffed into his shoes was TP.

Frankly, I would have been pissed off too.

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I’m not the type to pull a prank on a day that is dedicated to such things. I’m going to pick a different day like Christmastime, for instance.

My friend Susie (we call ourselves “sisters from a different mister”) was having “the couples” over for our Christmas dinner that night. She can get a bit stressed out because she really could be Martha! Perfection!

I caught a glimpse of her at the market with a totally loaded cart. She is always on her phone and kept wandering away. Without her seeing me, I called and starting chatting her up as she walked further and further away. The second she turned the corner, I snatched her cart and walked in the opposite direction.

When she got back to where it “used” to be, she started pretty much freaking out. “OMG, where’s all my stuff. I’ve been here almost an hour”. I watched her searching from afar, giggling. Finally, she marched to the front to have it announced over the P.A. system. Should I rile her up right before I was going to her house? I walked up behind her and gently bumped the cart into her. She turned around like she was going to kill someone, then burst out laughing when she saw it was me.

She has a great sense of humor and willing to put up with me. I'm lucky!

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April 1st is a time for pranks and light-hearted jokes. Yet we all know jokes can take on a life of their own.

Fake announcements on Facebook, office supplies encased in jello, and cryptic phone calls are all designed to elicit laughter, but what happens when someone reacts to the prank in an unexpected way.

This week we’re asking you to write about a time that a prank, joke, or piece of gossip twisted out of control, producing unexpected results.  Unexpected doesn’t have to mean negative!

This week’s word limit is 350 words.

RememberRED: Hope

Were it not for hope the heart would break.

Scottish Proverb


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Four friends would do anything to care for me if ever needed. With many others, that level of faith isn’t as strong. This is about one of my “four”.

With one ounce of my grumpiness, I immediately reflect on C. for whom I’d drop everything, especially when she doesn’t ask because I know what she’s not saying. Only a few do.

Her youngest son is getting married in June. Thank God. It’s become a source of stress because time is of the essence. M, her husband, our dear friend, is very sick; diagnosed on the eve of our two-week trip to Italy 2 1/2 years ago. Signs showed it hadn’t just arrived. Being brave yet confused, they told no one so as not to “ruin” our adventure.

Arranging courageous faces everyday for work and times we’re together, which is often, we’re all aware. We’ve googled it. Statistics are rough. Stem cell transplants and chemo haven’t caused remission. He feels crappier than crap constantly, which breaks our hearts. C feels powerless even as a highly experienced nurse. Her "three" feel it too.

Throwing some more crap on the “nothing’s about her” pile, her mother was recently diagnosed with lung cancer. Her eldest son has recurring brain tumors since 19, both currently receiving chemotherapy.

We can’t care for M but we do mind her. As her “people”, we attend to C’s wellbeing and happiness.

Girls CAN shop so off we went to the city for her MOG dress. C‘s usual cheeriness was absent and her heart wasn’t on Michigan Avenue but she needed this task done and dusted. Tossing her virtually naked body into a fitting room, we handed her every single dress in Neiman Marcus insisting, “Put this on!” Much to her protestations, luck struck with the very last and she looked stunning. Found... the perfect gown for a Malibu ranch wedding. (M even commended our stellar job!)

We "three" will forever be present to ease the mind of our incredibly giving, strong and caring friend. Seemingly insignificant, this weighed on her. We have learned to lean on each other.

Some things are miniscule in the grand scheme. The biggie is coming far too soon we fear, and she’s aware. Our hope is she'll have faith in us to care for her, ease her mind and provide her peace when that time arrives.

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Corinthians 4:16-18
 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

RemembeRED: Hope 

This week, we want the (x) to be hope.

This is a piece about hope, illustrated through (y).

In 400 words or less, tell a true story about hope, illustrated through your experiences.

In My Life

I find Jester Queen's writing to be fascinating and engaging so I visit her blog often. When I recently read that she and her friend Bella were doing this thingy related to music, I knew I'd be all in. This prompt was actually a no brainer for me (choose a love song and explain it's significance in your life). Maybe that’s why I chose to do it on a Saturday.

Music is a huge part of my everyday life…my very being. There is, most definitely, a song that has always been significant to me. I can’t really remember exactly when it became so meaningful but no later than high school, for sure.

In My Life

 (Click on the title above if you'd like to hear it)

Written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney

There are places I remember

All my life, though some have changed

Some forever, not for better

Some have gone and some remain

All these places had their moments

With lovers and friends, I still can recall

Some are dead and some are living

In my life, I've loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers

There is no one compares with you

And these memories lose their meaning

When I think of love as something new

Though I know I'll never lose affection

For people and things that went before

I know I'll often stop and think about them

In my life, I love you more

Though I know I'll never lose affection

For people and things that went before

I know I'll often stop and think about them

In my life, I love you more

When I listen to this song on my iPod, it never fails to cause reflection or a momentary pause, at the very least, in whatever I’m doing or thinking. To me, this song signifies tremendous personal growth and a greater appreciation for the important people in my life… a timeline of sorts, from where I came to where I am now.

There are five people who have shaped my life as I stand here today, parents aside. They come to mind each and every time I hear “In My Life”. It’s why I always play it twice in a row to give proper contemplation to each...

A person who is not “in my life” but knows there’s a special, locked place in my heart for him.

My best friend who I could never imagine my life without and will, hopefully, never experience that feeling.

My lover of 23 years.

My two children who mean absolutely the world to me.

“If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you.” Winnie the Pooh to Piglet

**Now if I got to choose three more I would pick "You're In My Heart" by Rod Stewart, "The Way We Were" by Barbra Streisand and "Follow You, Follow Me" by Genesis!

My Life In Music

An Unobvious Choice

I’ve always valued quality over quantity so I have many, not tons of, friends entrenched in my life with whom I can share just about anything.  One friend has always stood above the rest…my BFF, the one I met in college 32 years ago. She knows EVERYTHING and she’ll take it to her grave or I’ll blackmail her with every single scary skeleton I’m hiding for her!

I’m not going to write about her because it’s too easy.

Growing up, Dad traveled and Mom tried to get us to behave. He was the stern, distant, humorless type who no one considered looking at cross-eyed or disobeying for fear of? Funny, I don’t ever remember receiving a punishment from him.

He lost his dad to melanoma at 7 and entered military boarding school…tough life.  Thinking his “job” as dad was to provide for our needs and the best education possible, I’ve cut him some slack for lack of a fatherly role model. He went to college at night, after I was born.  Dad’s a tough cookie; no one was ever to question him but I did when he said or did something that I didn’t think was cool. At first, he was shocked. Now he doesn’t want to disappoint ME. Crazy!

We weren’t close until his first grandchild was born. I saw the tenderness and love he had for me through her. Said he worried endlessly about taking care of us when we were young. He called her Gina by mistake and still does sometimes 21 years later. They’ve shared a bond from the minute she was born.  

Fast forward to August 2010, Dad suffered a stroke that was one centimeter away from leaving him drooling. We were very lucky. The biggest change? He now giggles. My kids love the “new” Grandpa even more because they can crack him up from almost nothing. He’s also much more sensitive and sentimental. When I call for Mom and Dad answers (would NEVER answer the phone in the past), he asks, “Did you call for me?” and I answer, “Of course, what’s up?” Sweet, sweet man of mine!

Gifts from my Dad are endless but here’s a few…

Motown, Mama’s and Papa’s, Petula Clark, The Moody Blues

Fairness

Strength

Rationality

Education

Importance of Family

Red Birthday roses every year since I was 16

Love

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY FRIENDSHIP 

BoDeans STAY

(I'm not good at linking so click on BoDeans for a listen)

Written for his daughters, Sam Lianas says it's about perfect moments, how rare they are but you find them every once in a while. Love this!

RemembeRED: Friendship

Exploring friendship. Talk about a current friendship or one from your past, a friend you met over kindergarten snacks or happy hour at your first job. Examine your emotional interest in the friendship and the role it plays, or played, in your life.

The word limit for this prompt is 400 words. 

Packing It In

I'm not packing it all in. It won't fit. I mean in my day and in my suitcase as I prepare to leave this icy cold tundra for a glorious beach and adventure!

I packed in a sweaty session first thing this morning. Before someone thinks I mean one thing, I meant an hour spin class, my favorite type of exercise hands down. "Paying the piper", which is what my friend Susie and I call it when we travel partnerless, will come later today. Another friend calls it leaving a memory. In any case, one must always properly thank your vacation sponsor!

Bathing suits, check. Personal grooming for said bathing suit, check (OUCH!). Yoga pants and workout clothes, check. Flashlight, Kindle, Two bottles of fine red wine, check, check, and triple check! Toiletries, got'em.

Hair dryer and make up...nope. Not that kind of place. Amansala is an au naturale, eco-friendly place. I don't mean it's a nudist retreat but being smack on the beach means that the power and plumbing systems are pretty fragile (don't flush the paper). Also, who would we be wearing makeup for anyway.

Shoot...flight check in, passport, chargers, cash!

That's about all I need.

The only things left to do...pay that piper and head to the city for a Chicago Bulls game and close the suitcase!

I better get going.

A Country Club Christmas Fiasco!

Today's blog is of the "Does anyone care what I write?" variety and involves one of my very silly best friend.

Last night was our fancy Christmas dinner at the country club. The "blue hairs" were out in force (not me, I'm blonde), everyone was dressed to the nines and wine flowed freely as hors d'oeuvres were being passed. We thought this was a great night to behave since it wasn't the rip roaring kind of night that we sometimes like to have and did the week before.

Everyone made a grand entrance into the dining room to candlelight, flowers and 50 string instruments playing gorgeous Christmas music. Approaching our table, we decide to continue acting like grown ups and sit boy/girl even though we REALLY want to sit girls on one side and guys on the other. We feel this need when we're dressed up and I don't know why. A grand night calls for grand gestures, so our gentlemen pull out our chairs for us to gently sit. Doc Weed, Susie's guy, pulls out her chair....at LEAST two feet. Poor Susie went down hard in her little black dress and Jimmy Choo stilettos anticipating her non-existent seat with about 25 people looking on. The look on her face was priceless! At the same time and I don't even know how as we were all in shock, the flower centerpiece falls into my full water glass and lands right in my lap. Thinking I was clever and wearing satin, I thought the water might run right off me on to the floor if I stood up. The only things in the way of this bright idea were my shoes and I sat the rest of the night in wet Stuart Weitzman's but Susie sat in shear mortification!

I'm sure our table looked like a bunch of big drunks and we weren't even really drinking! Thank God we pay to be there and can't get kicked out...I think!

That was the start of our night. Then I had the craziest conversation with Sue during dessert. She always gives me her tomatoes because she doesn't like them. I always give her my raspberries because I don't care for their consistency. Sue finally, after 15 years, asked what my problem was with raspberries and the rest went like this:
"Why don't you like raspberries?" " I like the taste but not the consistency. They are seedy and sometimes hairy and I don't like that." Sue, "Well I'm hairy sometimes and you still like me don't you?" Me, "Yes, but Sue, I don't eat you!" Doc just looked back and forth between us and said, "I hope not!"

Okay, so I thought that was funny! Have a great!!!