Friday, March 30, 2012

Hey You, Pin It!

Due to my new Pinterest obsession, I want EVERYONE to have a Pin It! button on their site.  I mean it is mutually beneficial.  I can Pin with one click (okay maybe 3), and you get your rightful attribution, and NOBODY has to read many many comments saying, Cool, where can I get this?

Win, win, win. Done.

Don't you agree?

I'll just assume that you do.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

I'm Not Sure You Understand Me

When I say fog, you think of gray.  Correct?  To you fog is a color, a concept.  On the Cape, fog is a way of life.  It is infused into every day.  It is blaired in and out with the regular sounding of the lighthouse.  It rolls in off the harbor and physically invades Main Street.  It sticks to the branches and drips from the trees in oversized droplets onto your car.  It makes cold, wet.  It is the embodiment of misery.  It is a cold, wet, white, dampness.  It is like walking into the night, into the black of night, in the day - only it's white.

In a sense it is magic, mystery and illusion.  Thick, dense, whiteness.

It is a beautiful misery.

It is NOT mist.  Mist is confetti compared to this.  It is a cloud in which you live.

Until - it is gone.

Replaced by wind, which is worse, unsettling, disturbing, unrelenting.  Angry.

Today the foghorn sounds, though fog is not imminent, at least not here.  And - there is no wind.  The water so blue, with a tinge of green.  The sand so tan.  A palette to paint your world, your room, your home.

And to then whitewash.

Step Aboard the Titanic, Gilligan

Through livingsocial, groupon, and the others - I am bombarded with gazillions of amazing online deals.  Most of which I immediately delete.  A girl has to be in a certain mood to receive a discount.  (Purchase necessary.)  One stopped me on my way to delete, intrigued me to click "Read," the title did anyway.

Three-hour Titanic Tribute Cruise.  After that tout, honestly, I was surprised not to find "The Perfect Storm" as any part of the advertising.  Perhaps "Tribute" should assauge fears of a doomed sea voyage.  Perhaps.  But I am not clicking "Buy" for that deal and my reason has nothing to do with the state of my bank account.

Three-hour Titanic Tribute Cruise?  Isn't that Gilligan's Island meets Titanic?  Sigh.  I suppose it could be just me.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Happy Facebook Day

I have a friend on Facebook who decided that today should be Positive Facebook Day. I went ahead and changed it to Happy Facebook Day.

La la, La la la la, La la la la la.
La la, La la la la, Sing a happy song.

Happy Facebook Day, Y'all!

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

A Bird in the Bush

No time to talk but I thought I would leave you with this...

Happy Spring!


Thursday, March 15, 2012

Greening Up

With morning comes another bleak walk on the Cod.  Less fog, but no less gray. 

Although now, the skies look promising - the day is brightening up. 

Yesterday's head pain did not grow into a migraine.  I am hoping the same goes for today.  Once again woke with an aching in my head that I have chosen to ignore because taking the triptans render me useless and retire me to bed - for the day.  So far so good...

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Nature versus the Weather

Nature says spring is on its way.  The weather says, gloomy, dreary, and gray.

Signs of Spring

This morning while waiting for the bus, Charlie and I were looking for signs of spring.  The thought was sparked by a homework assignment which we will complete later today.

The past two or three days have been gray and dismal with fog so thick that you wake up in a cloud; the driveway and surrounding areas are as wet as if rain has fallen, only it hasn't.  So perceiving spring doesn't seem likely - only, spring is on its way. 

It's all around us, in the little things.  And the more you look, the more you see.  Fresh tender leaves poking out of yesterday's dormant brown branches.  The greens of crocuses already three or four inches high. 

Daylight savings beckoned spring to come and it has.  Hurray.  Today, the Rude and I make our way down the beach.  And my head only hurts a little.  Here's hoping it burns off with the fog..

Tuesday, March 13, 2012


And again my head.

Penciled on tomorrow - gym

And that is my glass half full. 

Monday, March 12, 2012

Feign Fun

So the migraine went on and on this time.  What is usually three days, spanned five.  And swallowed a weekend.  We managed to have some fun - I feigned fun.  But Charlie and I got out and did stuff - that's what counts.

Today the haze has lifted.  I took the dog for a walk, a fast one.  My goal is to exercise at least five times a week.  Pre-migraines this would not have been a goal posted on a blog.  It would have been part of my lifestyle.  Because I used to be that girl.  I used to love to workout.  I was strong, and healthy, and dependable.  And then my body, well, and then things changed.

But things are looking up.  I am looking up.  I still get migraines 50% of the time - which SUCKS - but I am good.  I am changing my mindset.  Because I can. (...and suddenly Leann Rimes is singing in the back of my head in a yellowy sunlit, sparsly furnished, breezy room.)  Am I mixing music videos?

The moral of the story?  Nothing's perfect.  It's never gonna be.  All you gotta do is fake it till you make it.

Everybody will be much happier.  Who knows?  Before long maybe you'll drop the feign. 

(I must admit my brain is not quite up to par, but I would really like to get a post in today so ...
P-U-B-L-I-S-H ... )

Friday, March 09, 2012

Head Pain Day Three

Really... do just please go away - oh, pain in my head.  On the count of three: 1,2...

Thursday, March 08, 2012

Rubber Gloves and Lidocaine Shampoo

If I put on rubber gloves and shampooed my head with lidocaine would I find relief?  Yesteday I had a migraine.  Another mind numbing migraine.  This morning I woke up iffy.  Iffy as to whether my migraine would stay away.  I am afraid to say, it's creeping back.

With my morning joe I gently rubbed my forehead, concentric circles between my eyebrow and my hair line - nearer my hair line - speaking my wish for the day, that it doesn't return today.  I already had to cancel meeting new friends yesterday, last night.  And just now cancelled today's hair appointment.  Color, fumes, hot air - on my head - uh UH.  Not today.  I fired a hairdresser for handling my head like a football.  And hired the one today for the exact opposite - when she dries your hair with the round brush it is like a folicle massage - but not today.  Today my head desires 100% Egyptain cotton sheets.  White.  Washed and dried without scent.

But then there is what I cannot cancel - tonight - my midterm exam.  My nauseous stomach is telling me to eat.  My head, to take that little triptan.  My neck and jaw, to get in bed.  But still - here I sit.  At my computer. My will to write deferring the necessary.  Unwilling to admit defeat, yet again.  But I suppose, here I must go... to the pill.  To the defeat.  To the bed.

The Word I HATE to Say (or Read)

Now, hate is a strong word.  And I realize that HATE makes it even stronger.  But this IS the word that properly describes my feelings toward this one particular word.


It doesn't look French, as it is said - crow shay.

It looks, well, vulgar.  And in my mind, when I read it, it sounds vulgar.  Then it continues to resonate. Crotch it. Crotch it, crotch it, crotch it... Until I wish the word never exsisted.

Now, luckily, coming across this word in print is a rare occurance.  Until recently.  Until Pinterest.  Now there are crotch it pins, and crotch it you-name-it, and - well the list goes on.

Can't we all just - PLEASE - agree to keep our crotch it to ourselves?  My quiet mind thanks you.  In advance. 

Tuesday, March 06, 2012

Little Blue Box of Happiness

It is a glorious day outside - from inside.  It is an open shade day.  But once you step over the threshold it's still freezing.  It is tough being a Florida girl living on the moon - uh, the Cape.  And the toughest part is November till April.  I forget what my feet look like, they are always smothered in socks.

Yesterday I ordered a light box - here, let me see if I can find it...

Philips goLITE BLU Therapy Device (on

On Sale for $139.95

And you said, "You can't buy happiness..."

Thursday, March 01, 2012

Living on the Moon

I often joke that living on the Cape is kind of like living on the moon.  It's desolate, at least in the winter. 

Every activity, every group I sign up for is inundated with people over seventy. And it's not like I can complain - I am the minority. The what is wrong with this picture? I am the thing to be circled because it doesn't (I don't) fit.

I don't consider myself an agist, my Gram, who just died at the age of 97, was one of my best friends.  I have always had an affinity for the wise.  I get angry when someone doesn't treat the young-at-heart with love and kindness and respect.  But I also need interaction with people my age: the not-quite-wise-enough set.

I was well aware of the state of affairs but I didn't know it had gotten to this: you know things have gone awry when the yoga class you want to do is at the Senior Center (and you consider going anyway).

Have I acclimated myself to seventy?

I suppose it could be worse - it's not like I have fallen in with a bad crowd.

Would they even let me in?