I'm no money wiz, but I'm pretty sure our country's economy isn't going to orgasm with this stimulation. The link below is a helpful resource for understanding the stimulus package. I'm a Republican who voted for President Obama. Clearly, I want change. But let's slow down and talk common sense.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/graphic/2009/02/01/GR2009020100154.html
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Columbian Romance
Today is the day you'll see many guys pathetically rummaging through the few remaining bent or inappropriate cards, rushing the jewelry counters or trying to make last minute dinner reservations in vain. It must be Valentine's Day.
Here's my advice to them. Be romantic all year long and you might get a reprieve from the over-priced stores and restaurants on the holidays and birthdays that somehow always seem to take you by surprise.
Most women would prefer your daily attention to a box of Godiva. My husband has finally figured it out. He brings me coffee in bed every morning. Now that's a token of affection in my book and a winning situation for both of us. Happy Valentine's Day. XOXO
Here's my advice to them. Be romantic all year long and you might get a reprieve from the over-priced stores and restaurants on the holidays and birthdays that somehow always seem to take you by surprise.
Most women would prefer your daily attention to a box of Godiva. My husband has finally figured it out. He brings me coffee in bed every morning. Now that's a token of affection in my book and a winning situation for both of us. Happy Valentine's Day. XOXO
Sunday, February 1, 2009
SPAM and the Afterlife
What is life's greatest mystery? Everyone playing the board game answered "the afterlife" - except me. I said, "SPAM." Who eats that stuff?
It's denial. I find it difficult to get past the dying part, let alone what comes next.
As a kid I had the whole St. Peter and the pearly gates imagery in my head. It seemed like Club Med in the clouds. No thanks. Lying around with nice folks listening to harp music sounded boring. The devil was offering really cool door prizes downstairs. Besides I liked the heat and was afraid of heights.
Catholic schoolteachers tried to flesh out the concept for me, but there were contradictions. Mr. Nicoletti taught me there was no hell. Maybe not so coincidentally, he is my favorite teacher. A year later in a new school, a nun asked me to explain hell in class. Thinking I was prepared for this trick question, I loudly proclaimed there was no hell. After turning three shades of fiery red, she told me I was headed there. I think that was my first travel assignment.
Confused as a teenager, I read about the Tibetan Book of the Dead and devoured books on philosophy and the occult. My idea of the afterlife was far from tidy.
As a young adult, I was a reporter for a Catholic newspaper and The Philadelphia Inquirer's religion section and interviewed many dealing with death and spirituality. The different perspectives taught me that thoughts on an afterlife are highly individual and can be beautiful.
Now that I've lost loved ones, the afterlife has become a real thing rather than an abstract idea. My childhood notions no longer fit. Now, limbo is just the time spent waiting for an editor to get back to me and purgatory is having my father-in-law over for dinner.
Hell can be right here on Earth. Some create their own and others are damned to an awful destiny of poverty, abuse and more. The unfairness of the latter is life's second greatest mystery.
This brings us to reincarnation. Last year, I read, "Many Lives, Many Masters," by Brian L. Weiss, M.D., a prominent psychiatrist who specializes in past life therapy and hypnotic regression. His research is compelling, but I'm not sure it matters to me if I was a 14th century butcher or will be in the Martian army in the next millennium. The here and now is all I know. This fact makes this life all the more precious.
I believe in a Heavenly afterlife and accept that I'm on a need-to-know basis. And, I don't need to know yet.
One thing is for sure. With it's long shelf life, SPAM will be there.
It's denial. I find it difficult to get past the dying part, let alone what comes next.
As a kid I had the whole St. Peter and the pearly gates imagery in my head. It seemed like Club Med in the clouds. No thanks. Lying around with nice folks listening to harp music sounded boring. The devil was offering really cool door prizes downstairs. Besides I liked the heat and was afraid of heights.
Catholic schoolteachers tried to flesh out the concept for me, but there were contradictions. Mr. Nicoletti taught me there was no hell. Maybe not so coincidentally, he is my favorite teacher. A year later in a new school, a nun asked me to explain hell in class. Thinking I was prepared for this trick question, I loudly proclaimed there was no hell. After turning three shades of fiery red, she told me I was headed there. I think that was my first travel assignment.
Confused as a teenager, I read about the Tibetan Book of the Dead and devoured books on philosophy and the occult. My idea of the afterlife was far from tidy.
As a young adult, I was a reporter for a Catholic newspaper and The Philadelphia Inquirer's religion section and interviewed many dealing with death and spirituality. The different perspectives taught me that thoughts on an afterlife are highly individual and can be beautiful.
Now that I've lost loved ones, the afterlife has become a real thing rather than an abstract idea. My childhood notions no longer fit. Now, limbo is just the time spent waiting for an editor to get back to me and purgatory is having my father-in-law over for dinner.
Hell can be right here on Earth. Some create their own and others are damned to an awful destiny of poverty, abuse and more. The unfairness of the latter is life's second greatest mystery.
This brings us to reincarnation. Last year, I read, "Many Lives, Many Masters," by Brian L. Weiss, M.D., a prominent psychiatrist who specializes in past life therapy and hypnotic regression. His research is compelling, but I'm not sure it matters to me if I was a 14th century butcher or will be in the Martian army in the next millennium. The here and now is all I know. This fact makes this life all the more precious.
I believe in a Heavenly afterlife and accept that I'm on a need-to-know basis. And, I don't need to know yet.
One thing is for sure. With it's long shelf life, SPAM will be there.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Coolest Room In the House
In another bit of sixth grade memorabilia, I found a real prophecy. Sister Francis Michele had a bit of fun guessing what we would all be doing in the year 2000. She wrote that I would be the owner of a rare book shop in London. At first I laughed, but then realized she was pretty darn intuitive. She picked up on my love of reading, but how could she have known about my affinity for British accents?
I do get the warm fuzzies every time I walk into a book store - especially ones with coffee and arm chairs. Libraries are even better. I'll never forget when La Salle High School updated their's with a fireplace and huge comfy sofas. Too bad it was an all boys school and I was already in my 20s.
Back in my reporter days, I wrote a feature on medieval prayer books that got me into the rare books section at the Philadelphia Library. You would have thought I'd gotten tickets to a great game. Well, for me it was the Super Bowl of books. It was thrilling to see the same intricate manuscripts that another woman held in the 1500s.
Writer Steven Levy featured Internet innovator Jay Walker's amazing personal library in the October issue of Wired magazine. There's a man who knows what to do with his money! Not only is it architecturally astounding, it's filled with treasures such as a 16th century book of jousting and an original Sputnik 1 satellite hanging from the ceiling.
We transformed the useless formal living room in our home (everyone hangs in the kitchen no matter what) into a little library. Nothing is better than being surrounded by my favorite books, art and antique typewriter. I think I'll go settle down into that huge leather sofa with a page turner and a cup of tea - no make that glass of wine.
Who needs London?
I do get the warm fuzzies every time I walk into a book store - especially ones with coffee and arm chairs. Libraries are even better. I'll never forget when La Salle High School updated their's with a fireplace and huge comfy sofas. Too bad it was an all boys school and I was already in my 20s.
Back in my reporter days, I wrote a feature on medieval prayer books that got me into the rare books section at the Philadelphia Library. You would have thought I'd gotten tickets to a great game. Well, for me it was the Super Bowl of books. It was thrilling to see the same intricate manuscripts that another woman held in the 1500s.
Writer Steven Levy featured Internet innovator Jay Walker's amazing personal library in the October issue of Wired magazine. There's a man who knows what to do with his money! Not only is it architecturally astounding, it's filled with treasures such as a 16th century book of jousting and an original Sputnik 1 satellite hanging from the ceiling.
We transformed the useless formal living room in our home (everyone hangs in the kitchen no matter what) into a little library. Nothing is better than being surrounded by my favorite books, art and antique typewriter. I think I'll go settle down into that huge leather sofa with a page turner and a cup of tea - no make that glass of wine.
Who needs London?
Limerick
My mom just gave me a folder of my earliest writing. Nothing there indicated I'd make a living at crafting prose. My grammar and spelling were God awful. However, this limerick from sixth grade was a bit prophetic.
There once was a girl named Sue.
She always had the flu.
She missed school
and played pool.
She always broke the cue.
There once was a girl named Sue.
She always had the flu.
She missed school
and played pool.
She always broke the cue.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
From the Flipside of Holiday Fun
Happy New Year! I haven't blogged because over the holidays I'm either the happy hostess or at QVC. This year, I managed to have two parties at home, while on QVC. I missed my own fun!
The week after Christmas, I am always, and I mean always, sick. But I'm recovered and I've been writing my novel. I may finish it yet. Dare I give myself a deadline? Hmm. Why not? Let's say February 25th. You all hold me to it.
My resolution is to be more productive. So far, so good. I dusted off the treadmill, queries are flying out, pages are being filled and I'm trying so hard not to give in to time suckers. I'm even trying out this thing called sleep. I find it helps me get more done while I am awake.
I will have to forgo my new friend REM tonight, though. I'll be on air overnight and home just in time to get my day started. Only sweet day dreams for me.
The week after Christmas, I am always, and I mean always, sick. But I'm recovered and I've been writing my novel. I may finish it yet. Dare I give myself a deadline? Hmm. Why not? Let's say February 25th. You all hold me to it.
My resolution is to be more productive. So far, so good. I dusted off the treadmill, queries are flying out, pages are being filled and I'm trying so hard not to give in to time suckers. I'm even trying out this thing called sleep. I find it helps me get more done while I am awake.
I will have to forgo my new friend REM tonight, though. I'll be on air overnight and home just in time to get my day started. Only sweet day dreams for me.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Oh well
After writing that last post during which I pontificated on the evils of self-indulgence, I promptly proceeded to go shopping and then imbibed in one cocktail too many at a party. Christmas brings way too many challenges. I'll be my better self in January. Cheers.
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