My Soul, Born in the South


Tonight my favorite movie is on and though I’ve seen it a hundred times, I’m watching it again. I was one of those that watched the movie before I read the book, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe. I read it from cover to cover in one sitting, as my little kids played around my feet. While they ate their meals. While I changed their diapers. While I bathed them. And after I put the to bed.

The children grew older, and as they did, we bed shared. For comfort, yes, but also for closeness and for me the possibility that I might get a full nights sleep so I could function at work the next day. Often, the cats and a dog or two would crawl in there with us.

After the little ones settled and fell asleep, and before I’d drift off, I’d grab my dog eared copy of Fried Green Tomatoes and devour a chapter. I knew every word, yet the story continued to resonate within me. Was I born in the South in a previous life? Why did the story of Ruth and Idgie effect me so deeply?

I began to know every word of the story, yet I couldn’t put it down. The book fell apart, yet I continued to read it. I would jump from story to story without missing a beat. I felt the promise of new life when Buddy was born, and the sadness of love lost when Ruth died. I felt anger so intense when there was racism, and when Idgie was accused and tried for murder I cried.

As my children grew older and took to their own bedrooms, I continued to read the book. It was now in pieces and I had to tape most of the pages together. I swear to you some nights when I read the stories, I could feel the heat of the day on my skin, while tendrils of my hair blew in the humid Alabama air. Train whistles blew and sweat poured down my back. I was dressed in white cotton, sitting on my front porch, and drinking sweet tea. When I’d finally fall asleep, I’d dream I was as tough as Towanda, that brilliant woman unafraid to bait her own hook and love the woman that was meant to be hers forever.

The kids are grown now, and the copy of my book is long gone. I think about replacing it, but something always sidetracks me. Maybe it’s the fact that I can’t get that time back. Or maybe it’s the fact that I want to write like that, but can’t. Or maybe I can write like that, but I’m afraid to fail. All I know is I’ll watch Fried Green Tomatoes tonight and it will make me feel all the things I used to feel. Maybe I’ll finally start that book. Or maybe, I’ll just know that my soul, it was born in the South, and it will have to be enough.

Blessings from my Sister


Sometimes I feel like there’s a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean. The moon tonight, there’s a circle around it. Sign of trouble not far behind. I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing… I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen. I don’t know. Maybe I had my happiness. I don’t want to believe it but, there is no man, Gilly. Only that moon. –Practical Magic

Sis and I were never close, but it wasn’t from my lack of trying. We were just too different, she and I. I was the Black Sheep, and she was the perfect one. Sure, I was smart, but she had the drive to get good grades. I was in school for the social aspect of it. Sis ran with the right crowd, but I ran with the wild crowd. I drank, smoked cigarettes and weed. Hell, she was even a cheerleader.

Our weddings were within three months of each other. They were over 25 years ago, so I don’t remember much. However, I do recall spilled champagne on my bridesmaids dress, dancing with my future husband and dirty dancing to the song, “Time of my Life”. I remember that Sis looked beautiful, like she always did. Where I was curvy, and what I perceived as ugly,  she was neither of those things. To me she was perfect; athletic, smart, popular, beautiful, driven, and the list goes on and on.

She and I raised our kids differently. I was the free spirited mom that gave my children room, but reigned them in when necessary. She was the stricter mom, that enforced rules and gave lectures. Our children turned out to be pretty damn great adults, so who’s to say which of our parenting skills was better.

Throughout the years, she divorced and remarried. She had a couple more kids while her older two were teenagers. Our oldest ones were all born within a few years of each other and it was fun to watch them all grow and change, and achieve. Sis and I were blood, but we never crossed over to being friends. Then I decided after 24 years of marriage to divorce Roger Darling, and she became my strongest supporter.

I finally let go of what I perceived were our differences, and let her in. Sis has been there for me when I’ve been at my lowest. She has gotten my groceries and run my errands while I was laid up from a major car accident last March. She has on more than one occasion yelled at me and told me to get my head on straight now that I’m walking again. We’ve learned we can lean on each other, no matter how different we are.

She’s my sister and now my friend. I don’t know if we’d ever be able to live together, but I’m proud to say she’s one of my loudest cheerleaders. Who knew those skills of hers would come in handy all these years later?

Can love really travel back in time and heal a broken heart? Was it our joined hands that finally lifted Maria’s curse? I’d like to think so. But there are some things I know for certain: always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder, keep rosemary by your garden gate, plant lavender for luck, and fall in love whenever you can.-Practical Magic

Finding the Moon, and my Christmas Spirit

George and Mary Bailey

Now you listen to me….

I don’t want any plastics, and I don’t want any ground floors, and I don’t want to get married-ever-to anyone!

You understand that? I want to do what I want to do, and you’re…and you’re….

It’s been a crazy month. Hell, it’s been a crazy year. I don’t even know where the time has gone. I need a vacation. I need a nap. I need a drink. I need, need, need something. But I’ll be damned if I can figure out what it is. Part of what I need is time. But time for what? I’m not sure. I need to dance. I need to disconnect. I need to touch and be touched. I need to sleep in. I need to read a good book. To write a good book.

I need to watch an old black and white movie. I need to go home and change into my jammies. I need to pour a cup of hot coffee, with cream and two Sweet and Low. I need to turn on my DVD player and listen to George Bailey sing Buffalo Gal to Mary. I need to get completely lost in a movie that always makes me long for Christmas. That makes me long for days when my kids were little and they still believed. When I still believed. I need to disconnect from my computer. Disconnect from the world and fall for a simple man like George. That’s what I need.

So tonight, I’ll go home and do all of those simple things. I’ll snuggle in with my Wonder Schnauzers and watch a simple man named George fall in love with Mary. It will bring me back to life. It will bring me back to me. It will bring me back to the time when I still believed. In life, love and magic.

The Musings of a Geeky Blonde Bombshell

Help me Obi Wan. You’re my only hope.-Princess Leia-Star Wars: Episode IV-A New Hope

Geek, geek, geek. Nerd, nerd, nerd. Derp, derp, derp. Me, me, me. Yes, this sparkly girl is a closet geek, nerd, derp. Whatever you want to call it. I am. There’s nothing more fun than watching the Star Wars Trilogy on DVD on a cold, snowy afternoon in the middle of a long Michigan winter. Of course you must be wrapped up in your favorite blanket, with a bowl of fresh, buttery popcorn and a huge glass of Diet Coke with lots of ice. You must watch episodes IV, V, VI. Because I, II, and III suck ass! I watched I and II. But you couldn’t pay me to watch episode III. For the love of God I want to go smack George Lucas across the face for taking some of my favorite childhood memories and shitting all over them. I, II and III are drivel.

Of course I have the entire Twilight Zone library on DVD. I’ve watched them all at least once. But what I really like to do is watch them all on the SYFY channel on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Roger Darling watches football all day. I watch the Twilight Zone marathon. I watch it in bed. The only time I stop is when I nap, need to pee, eat, or drink something. Roger walks in to check on me from time to time. When he gazes at me through the bedroom door, he sees I’m still transfixed by the episode I’m watching. Doesn’t matter which one it is, I’m still mesmerized.

If it’s dystopian, post-apocolyptic, fantasy, sci-fi shit I want to watch it, read it, devour it. I love video games, but I can’t play them, because I have terrible hand-eye coordination. And the controllers confuse the fuck out of me. I love comic books too. I so want to go to the San-Diego Comic-Con. I would be in geeky girl heaven.  All those characters, and the spectators dressed as their favorite super heroes. Ah bliss! Of course I would have to be dressed as Wonder Woman. Ha!

Geeky computer shit makes this silly sparkly girl’s heart go pitter pat. One of my favorite websites is There’s every kind of geeky thing you can think of all in one place. Love, love, love it!

Screw romance novels, they do nothing for me. Give me the love story of  The Lord of the Rings trilogy please. All of the love stories actually. Even the love and obsession of the ring. Of course my favorite love story in the series is the love between Aragorn and Arwen. Love and immortality, they kind of go together, don’t you think? I mean, would you really want to live forever without the love of your life? That would be merely existing. And who wants to just exist? I know that I sure wouldn’t.

So grab a book by J.K. Rowling, J.R.R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis or a host of many other authors. Find your old Star Wars movies on DVD too. Bring out your inner geek from time to time. Or your outer geek. Whatever the case may be. It most certainly doesn’t have to be put off till a snowy and cold day during a Michigan winter.

Unless you are my partner or my doctor stay the FUCK out of my cunt!

“There is something reassuring about the toilets. Bodily functions at least remain democratic. Everybody shits, as Moira would say.” Chapter 39, The Handmaid’s Tale

I have been fuming in the last couple of days. Oh hell I’ve been fuming for the last couple of years. I’ve been standing in the middle of my living screaming at my husband. He and I love a good debate. He loves my passion but dammit I’m so fucking mad I could just lose my ever loving mind! I’ve so had it with the Republicans. I am so tired of them trying to take women’s health, work lives, family lives, and rights back at least 400 years! What gives them the right to decide what happens to my uterus? Whether or not I want to have a child? An affordable mammogram? A safe abortion if I so choose. Which I did choose, when I was 17. It was the right decision for me at the time. It was. I will never be sorry for it. But I’m thankful that it was safe and legal and I didn’t have to stick a coat hanger up into me or pay an exorbitant amount of money to have one done in a back alley or my home. And then have to deal with the fact that I could have hemorrhaged and died right in my fucking bathroom.

I’m SO PISSED OFF! NO one but me, my partner, and my doctor should decide on my health and my care. I don’t need some fucking bastard working for Santorum’s campaign, Foster Friess,telling a woman to put an aspirin between her knees for proper birth control. WTF is that?????? ASSHOLE! I want my daughter, my daughter’s daughter, and my daughter’s daughter’s daughter to be whatever and whoever she wants to be. Whether she’s straight, gay, single, married, a mother, not a mother. Whatever she decides, she should be able to do on her fucking own!

How about we give the Republicans and the Religious Right all of the unwanted babies to raise. They want to cut government program and outlaw abortion, let them raise the babies!!!!! They won’t do it. Women who have unwanted pregnancies come from all walks of life and social backgrounds. We are poor, we are rich, we are old, we are young, we educated, we are uneducated, we are every woman that has become pregnant and afraid and thankful that we have a choice!

This is NOT a patriarchy. This is not The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. If you are a woman, man, teenager, anyone, read it. It will freak you right the hell out. Because that’s where this country is headed if we allow the Republicans to decide the future of women’s healthcare and rights. They will use us as cattle, and make us breeders, barefoot, pregnant, miserable and killing ourselves, our children and/or our husbands.

Did I make you think? Did I make you question anything? If I did, good! Make sure you vote in November and get those son of a bitches out of office. Keep Obama in. I’m not saying that everything is perfect and hunky dory with Obama but dammit he gives a shit about us!