The Boy

There is a boy I work with, by boy I refer to an eighteen year old. He resembles a young Paul Newman, but for green eyes. From his work persona, he seems like a good kid. Does his job, helps when he sees the need without being asked, quiet. He has a steady girlfriend of quite some years whom he seems to be thoroughly in love with. He wants a career in art, God bless him.

What draws me to this kid is his freedom of speech, at least to me, when we are speaking alone. He has no inhibitions being complimentary to me, even though I am old enough to be his Grandmother. No, I'm not attracted to him, he is a child. I am fascinated by him, I watch this behavior in an almost clinical way.
I wonder at what point in time, when a boy becomes a man, does he start to hold back his thoughts?

I've had very little experience with men who compliment women with such ease. I see it in movies, but most of the men I've encountered have excuses why they cannot give so freely. Scarred by past relationships, fear of rejection or humiliation. Just generally not comfortable with saying what they are thinking or seeing no reason why they should.

When his girlfriend stops by work he tells her he likes her shirt, she looks cute. She seems to take it for granted, I don't even hear a thank you from her lips. It looks as though he is given nothing in return, but what do I know? Maybe this will cause him to stop giving as he matures.

The other day I was just going through my daily routine, when we passed each other. He said "We're you goin lookin all pretty?" It made me giggle. I had gotten my hair colored but had no make-up on, nor was I wearing anything other than my normal work attire. For every women this boy encounters through-out his entire lifetime...I hope he never losses this charm, sincerity, and ability to give simple compliments.

How many lives could he touch, how many frowns could he turn around, how many days will he have the ability to "make" for someone along the way? What a loss it will be if he ever grows up.

Still Insecure After all These Years

I met my old lover 
In the mall last night 
He seemed so glad to see me 
I just smirked 
And we talked about some old times 
And we shed ourselves some tears
Still insecure after all these years 
Oh, so insecure after all these years 


I'm not the kind of gal 
Who tends to socialize 
I seem to lean on 
Old familiar ways 
And I ain't no fool for love songs 
That whisper in my ears 
Still insecure after all these years 
Oh, so insecure after all these years 

Four in the morning 
Watchin movies, yawning 
Longing my life a--way 
I'll never worry 
Why should I? 
It's all gonna fade 


Now I sit by my window 
And I watch the cars 
I fear I'll do me damage 
One fine day 
But I would not be convicted 
By a jury of my peers 
Still insecure after all these years 
Oh, still insecure 
So insecure 
Still insecure after all these years

I Saw Nude People

I remember our first male model in art school who looked really cute when he walked through the door, until he took his clothes off. I remember the old man and old women who modeled nude together and looked beautiful. I remember April who wasn't much older than me. She had a tiny heart tattoo near her breast, I thought it was cool, and then I wanted one too.

I remember avoiding the genitalia of the male models. If it was an all day pose I would move my easel so I could avoid it completely, if we were doing quick sketches croquis as my instructors referred to them, I just made a line or two. In the beginning it was an embarrassing process for me. By my third year I would strike up conversations with the models.

Forcing a person to stare at the human figure in all forms is a sobering experience. When people are stripped of their clothes, many of our assumptions are removed, therefore there is less to judge. When they are speechless before you for hours, you begin to wonder what skin deep really means.

I saw nude people. A lot of nude people. I learned to appreciate the beauty of the human form in all shapes, sizes and colors. I consider it a special gift that came with my art training.

I needed it after being traumatized by my Nana making me take a bath with her when I was six or seven.

Thanks to Art school, I'm no longer traumatized. 

Holly Crap, Literally

Let's talk about kitty litter.

Have I got you thinking about a box of kitty litter, maybe one that needs cleaning?

I've had cats as pets for most of my adult life. At this moment I have three. We have two litter boxes.
I can't even begin to tell you the pounds of crap I put into the trash each week. When my last two cats died I swore I was done with it. I was inundated with requests from my family, begging and pleading for a new kitten. I finally gave in and I swore this would only work if I didn't EVER have to clean the litter.
Guess who cleans the litter?

I've heard of people who teach their cats to use the toilet and I'm sure this is possible. We only have one bathroom in my modest home. I am not ready to share my toilet during the learning curve.

So here I sit with a multitude of yucky stuff. Along with three cats who go there independent ways and don't even have the decency to sit with me and purr.

shit, turds, piss

Chain Letters

When I was a kid I remember my mother would occasionally get something in the mail she called a chain letter. It warned you to copy the letter (by hand) mail it to ten people (addresses from the phone book) and send it off. If you did, surely fortune would find you. I don't remember that any evil thing was going to happen if you didn't obey. I was a kid

When I got older, I too, received chain letters, the difference was, by that time you had the ability to photocopy the letters. I felt a little apprehensive about breaking the chain, but still, I threw the letters away.

Once email chain letters started is when I remember that they began to get nasty. They may have always been mean spirited if you chose not to reply, I just don't recall. When I got an email it would tell me to send it to ten friends. "Don't break the chain" it warned. Bad things would happen. I had no choice ~ at the time I didn't even have ten friends.

Well, now my ten year old daughter gets them in text messages from her silly little friends. Which really annoys me. She is growing quickly, but she is a young ten. The first one she got was detailed with directions. I tried to explain the whole thing to her, but she was still totally freaked. A week later she mentioned that because she didn't pass the text along she would have a horrible week. Then she proceeded to list why each day of the past week was horrible. She bruised her knee, her hair looked stupid, she lost something, etc. I called her little friend and politely told her to not forward these texts again.

A few years back an old friend contacted me through one of those classmate sites. We spoke a few times and then the only time I heard from him were when he sent silly chain emails. Finally I sent a nice letter saying I enjoyed talking to him but please stop sending me chain letter emails. He sent me a nasty note back, called me a name and said he didn't want to speak to me again. Maybe what I sent wasn't so nice.

Um, okay.

So whatever you do: Do not forward this blog.

but ~ nothing will happen either way.

Kids!

Village of the Damned 1960

I don't know what's wrong with these kids today!
Kids!
Who can understand anything they say?
Kids!
They are disobedient, disrespectful oafs!
Noisy, crazy, sloppy, lazy, loafers!
While we're on the subject:
Kids!
You can talk and talk till your face is blue!
Kids!
But they still just do what they want to do!
Why can't they be like we were,
Perfect in every way?
What's the matter with kids today? 


lyrics by Lee Adams

Blogging Obsession

I think I've become obsessed:

Enjoy it while you can ~ Burnout: imminent