Doctor It Up

It's Thursday. 5:55 pm as I write this and it's midnight black outside. Yea. Not feeling that.

Downed my 74 ounces of water today. Wish it had been a cherries, pecans and cream malt from Braum's Ice Cream store. Alas, it wasn't. More healthier...whoppee.

Also at work today, I sauntered up to my racquetball chum Maria, even tho we've not racquetted any thing for months--I digress--and asked her if she had a snack. Maria munches healthy snacks, so I knew that was better than the bag of peanut M & M's I desired about 4302% more. Maria didn't disappoint. My chum handed me a pumpkin pie flavored granola bar. I figured at the most, a tad of sweetness, would tie me over.

Wrong.

To swallow a mouthful of sawdust would cause a sugar over dose compared to this bar.Didn't even finish it. When I walked to my car, I threw the remainder on the ground. I figured the birds might get healthy...might...

In the meantime, it's almost Friday. I smile at Gene Simmons, decked all in his KISS gear, in that soda pop commercial. I like the song "Calling Doctor Love"--I even had it on a 45--and got it here right now!

Shout it Out!

Because it's Friday---finally! And also my day to visit Hogwarts and Harry Potter and chums in the Half Blood Prince. /Excited about it--and of course I didn't get the book finished. Almost though-yet not all the way. And I realize some people will think I am so wrong to not have finished because I had so much time to read it. Oh well. Doesn't mean I'll enjoy the movie any less!

The thing is, I think I started the book way over a year ago. Perhaps before I moved. Enjoyed yet, yet seemed to get all too wordy. Plus the 7th and last Harry Potter? I've yet to even purchase it. I admire what JK Rowling conjoured--especially because it looks like she started out in longhand on her books. I will get the 7th and last Harry Potter because I really don't know what happened. And besides I got another year or so to try and get through it-before the first of the last two movies are released. :)

In the meantime, let's get back to it being Friday and "Shout It Out Loud"--with a little help for that oh, so conservative band; KISS!

Stuff III

KRIS ALLEN is the new American Idol!

Oh my! Two nights in a row I get shocked! Last night on Dancing With the Stars, Shawn Johnson won and tonight: Kris Allen. WOW.

For me Adam Lambert was the better singer, the better showman. The thought of Adam being doused with lots of ego, was an air of confidence in my book. Adam knew his strengths. Didn't so much think that of Kris. What made me think, Kris might...and I repeat, might make it all the way, was his duet with Keith Urban.

Maybe I didn't realize country could sound like that. I guess I still think country is your daddy's Hank Williams....senior. Nonetheless, I enjoyed this song....alot! I'm adult enough to admit my defeat and saw congrats to Kris and all the KrisNation!

So now with DTWS and Idol, plus all my TV network shows, and the Dallas Mavericks are done for season, it's time to get on with the summer! Happy Day!

Hmm. Now when do the Dallas Cowboys begin their training camp? I'm ready for them to begin their quest to regain the NFL's title of American Idols.

Stay tuned.

In 1974, February 2 was Saturday

My diary tells me, I spent the day at a high school wrestling meet. From one of the opposing teams, there was a black guy, I'll call V. I wrote he was UG-A-LY!

Well, truth be known, V probably was a young Denzel Washington and a real good lookin' kid, but it wouldn't have mattered. During that time, he and I were probably the only two black kids in the filled auditorium. Remember, I was the only black student in my class, on top of the being half of the entire black student population in grades 9-12. Translation: out of 650 kids, 648 of em were white.

I digress.

In 1974, and for years after, I was afraid I wasn't attractive to black guys. I didn't know any. So I didn't know if they thought I was pretty. Sure, my dad always said I was his prettiest girl--but ya know, he was my dad. As much as I loved my little Iowa hometown, it wasn't much of melting pot. Not even a crock pot. It's a bit better now, yet still predominately Caucasian.

Back in high school, I started a Kiss List. It's what you think it is. Any guy I kissed whether on the lips, his cheek or he kissed my cheek, they went on a list and were rated 1-10. No joke. By February 2, 1974 there were just a few names on all three lists. In fact, I kissed two classmates, that day on the cheek. One was a guy who later, much later--like 20 years later, apologized for calling me a nigger. Said he should haven't done that even if I was 'colored' because I never did anything to him. We shared a beer over that. Anyway, the List was started to see if any white guys would ever kiss me.

WOW. Looking back, I was outgoing, loved to laugh, knew everybody, and if I buckled down I could get very good grades. I didn't buckle down. I figure I lack some confidence in the male species department and that's why I started a Kiss List. I wonder if V the wrestler could have gone it?

Naw. I was too scared to even LOOK his way. I do remember that. The mouths of chums, from back in the day and even from this day, will crash the floor when they read that. "You? Lack of self confidence?"

And my Kiss List? I eventually kept tally of just one list: On the Lips (and of course that's another story). When I graduated in 1976, I had 96 different names. Mister #100 happened about a week later, out at our town's drive-in. I admit, years later, he remembered he was #100 better than I did. We even joked about it this past summer. I retired the List in October 1977, due to I felt I had to grow up. The final tally? 153. Still not sure I grew up THAT much tho. :)

Back on February 2, 1974, new stuff. Scary stuff. .Yet my diary says I had a good time that Saturday afternoon. I'm sure I did.

Hmm. I wonder where V is today? I have his full name written in my diary. My luck he's some brain surgeon with a home in the Hamptons. I'll have to Google him.

.

Saturday Smiles

You should be washing dishes. Mop the floor. Doing laundry. Instead you pet just about every cat in the neighborhood---oh wait, they ALL live with you. Pop your daily meds. Take a shower. Notice the man who once again said he'd call so you two could do coffee hasn't and probably true to form: won't. Which is too bad, because you hoped he'd changed---finally.

Nonetheless, you feel a giddy. January 20, 2009, Inauguration Day inches closer. You bask how more History is being made.

You also realize there's movies to see, paint to buy, dreams for another house, food for all the neighborhood cats that seem to live with you. And then there's the pipin' hot coffee with the scrumptious piece of pie at Celebrity Bakery that screams your name.

Yea, all that other stuff can wait. You got things to do. To make you smile, you post some videos from a time before you had to be responsible for the dishes, the floor, the laundry and now that pesky mortgage because you crave a roof over your head and all the neighborhood cats. A little David Cassidy and the Partridge Family, then Osmond Brothers when it was still all five of them, and then a little rock n roll because you did always like a little Kiss.

The Osmond Brothers

...and now a little Kiss

Microtia and me

I was born without a left ear.

There's a piece of skin, where a lobe may have started to form. I was told I my have all the inside workings, yet no outside ear. Don't know if surgery was ever to be had to build an outside ear-unfortunately, my mom passed before anything was done, and I didn't really talk about it to my dad.

I just accepted it.

In school, always be seated up front and to the teacher's right. Some of my friends accuse me of having selective hearing. :) Sometimes that is true. However, in others, like in a crowd and/or you're on my left--I tell the people straight up, if I don't hear you. Please touch my arm, something, that I know you're there. Not really trying to ignore you.....well.....:)

OK--moms have e-mailed me, afraid their babies won't be normal if they don't have surgery. It really demends on how you define 'normal'. I explained to one mom, who's son wasn't quite a year old, that I can only speak for myself. I did all the 'normal' kid things. Took dance lessons, piano lessons, rode bikes, yakked phone with my best friends, had crushes on boys, learned to drive, drank with my friends, partied with my friends, and grew up and bought a house. Sure, I took, what seemed like daily hearing tests and worked with a speech pathologist all through grade and some middle school. I HATED that. Annoyed, especially because my speech was fine.

In my early 20's, I cut my hair the shortest it had ever been. My left ear was all exposed. Felt naked. Folks that grew up with me asked--"Did you get your ear cut off?" I had to laugh. "Nope, just born that way." They never knew. Sure, there were some stares. I finally got to the point of, "And?" I was happy since I had little to do with my hair!

Now, I get asked if I would consider surgery? At this point in my life--I kinda doubt it. Maybe if I was younger. I don't know. I've adapted to my situation. I know technology is improved--so I suggest to people they look at all the facts before opting for surgery. There are things I miss, yet I ask people to repeat. I could have two good ears and ask that!

A college student e-mailed and said girls were fascinated by him. He pierced his little ear. The girls always wanted to touch it. I told him if he didn't like it--tell them to stop. He admitted it wasn't that bad! :)

Am I normal? Depends on your definition of normal. I'm sure my house note people think I'm normal enough to pay them every month. My cats think I'm normal to feed and take care of them. I'm normal because I still turn up "Rock n Roll All Night, and Party Every Day" by KISS -did you know KISS member, Paul Stanley was also born with microtia?--I know for sure I'm normal because my God made me.