Update: I thought I felt better. It was my body playing a trick on me! For some good clean halloween jokes (for all ages) please visit Daz'd & Confused.

I'm still home sick with the Flu... oh joy!

I hope all of you enjoy scaring the stuffin out of each other. I've been home all weekend with my little pumpkin (that's one of my pet names for him) who had the flu and is now better.

Hope it's a fun day!

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Because I can never refuse a request from a handsome military man, who works tirelessly defending our country and protecting it's citizens, I'm publishing a couple of jokes that got me in trouble yesterday.

Eleven people were hanging on a rope under a helicopter, ten men and one woman. The rope was not strong enough to carry them all, so they decided that one has to leave, otherwise they are all going to fall. They were not able to name that person, until the woman held a very touching speech.

She said that she will voluntarily let go of the rope, because as a woman she is used to giving up everything for her husband and kids, or for men in general, without ever getting anything in return.

As soon as she finished her speech, all the men started clapping their hands.......

There's more jokes in the extended entry. Afterwards go congratulate the good Sgt. on his upcoming achievement of his half millionth visitor.
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When participating in a global teleconference from your desk, don't ever visit humorous sites, especially VW's Humor for Dreaded Wednesday. If you absolutely must visit, please remember to MUTE your phone! Otherwise the conference host just might ask you to share the humor with the group.

UPDATE: Another important reminder: When sitting on teleconferences back to back make sure that you GO TO THE BATHROOM before signing on to your next meeting, otherwise it will be another hour before you can go. Your co-workers will definitely not appreciate seeing a puddle beneath your seat.

Posted by: Michele at 09:33 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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A little poetry for the soul. For no other reason than just because I needed a little poetry break on a very "challenging" day of back to backs with only 20 min. scheduled in for lunch. This poem came to mind when I overheard one co-worker say to another "What about God?" during a conversation as they walked passed.

What about God?

From desert cliff and mountaintop we trace the wide design,
Strike-slip fault and overthrust and syn and anticline...
We gaze upon creation where erosion makes it known,
And count the countless aeons in the banding of the stone.
Odd, long-vanished creatures and their tracks & shells are found;
Where truth has left its sketches on the slate below the ground. [1]
The patient stone can speak, if we but listen when it talks.
Humans wrote the Bible; God wrote the rocks.

There are those who name the stars, who watch the sky by night,
Seeking out the darkest place, to better see the light.
Long ago, when torture broke the remnant of his will,
Galileo recanted, but the Earth is moving still [2]
High above the mountaintops, where only distance bars,
The truth has left its footprints in the dust between the stars.
We may watch and study or may shudder and deny,
Humans wrote the Bible; God wrote the sky.

By stem and root and branch we trace, by feather, fang and fur,
How the living things that are descend from things that were.
The moss, the kelp, the zebrafish, the very mice and flies,
These tiny, humble, wordless things -- how shall they tell us lies?
We are kin to beasts; no other answer can we bring.
The truth has left its fingerprints on every living thing.
Remember, should you have to choose between them in the strife,
Humans wrote the Bible; God wrote life.

And we who listen to the stars, or walk the dusty grade [3]
Or break the very atoms down to see how they are made,
Or study cells, or living things, seek truth with open hand.
The profoundest act of worship is to try to understand.
Deep in flower and in flesh, in star and soil and seed,
The truth has left its living word for anyone to read.
So turn and look where best you think the story is unfurled.
Humans wrote the Bible; God wrote the world.

-- Catherine Faber

Posted by: Michele at 01:17 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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In today's blog prompt, Tink has really spoken to me, by picking my favorite subject - Art. In her post she asks her readers what is our favorite type of art and who is our favorite artist. If I were forced to pick one type of artistic expression it would be a huge struggle between photography and sculpture. In the mood that I'm in today I'd like to work at moulding some clay and in so doing be able to give my thoughts and feelings shape.

As for my favorite artist, I don't think there could be just one. I do love Rodin's work and that of Camille Claudel's. But I also love much of the biblically inspired sculpture of the 13th through 17th Century. They are my photographs into a past that has long been lost. Anyway, below are the results to the quiz I took. My answer was based on my feelings at the end of my day.
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I was over at VW's site reading some really funny anecdotes and it brought to mind one of my own. In high school I found myself in Midtown Manhattan one sunny afternoon when this handsome young man steps in front of me dressed in his Sunday best and says hello with his girlfriend in tow. Puzzled I simply said hello back and stood there for a moment because they were blocking my way. Realizing I didn't recognize him he finally said: "It's Tony from the YMCA."

"Ohhhhh" I said looking at him up and down realizing who it was. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you with clothes on."

At hearing this, his new girlfriend yanked her hand out of his and punched him in the arm. "I've never seen you naked!"

To which I quickly added: "I'm only used to seeing him in that tiny speedo he wears during swim class." That didn't make thing any better, so I simply said good bye and quickly walked away leaving Tony to deal with a very angry girlfriend.

Posted by: Michele at 09:25 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 LOL!!!!

Posted by: vw bug at October 21, 2006 12:29 PM (rHK9m)

2 LOL!!! You do have a gift with words..... lol.....

Posted by: _Jon at October 22, 2006 09:55 AM (uCdAQ)

3 A post worthy of Paul Harvey. Heh.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at October 22, 2006 11:28 PM (0vCok)

4 From your Friday post, on which you closed comments: With each new human remains discovery I wonder if this will finally be the time that Mike's remains will be identified. Mike's remains have long since been identified, and they aren't in the rubble. They're in you and everyone that he ever loved and whoever loved him. His remains are right here and always have been. Life, Baby. That's where/when we'll make our stand.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at October 22, 2006 11:38 PM (0vCok)

5 And I'm sure you laughed all the way home!

Posted by: Ogre at October 23, 2006 06:22 AM (oifEm)

6 ROFLMBO

Posted by: Tink at October 23, 2006 12:06 PM (11q5z)

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This list is normally in my PDA but Tink's Friday blog prompt made me think I should share it with y'all so you can see us city folks are no slouchers. I wonder what the suburban folks in the blogosphere are doing this weekend?

TO DO Saturday!!!

• Measure ALL living room windows
  
• Hardware store – buy vise grip wrench, adjustable wrench, socket wrench, mini-blinds, and foam caulking to seal window gaps.
  
• Fix leak under bathroom sink
  
• Replace all old blinds in living room
  
• Staightening out & dusting the living room
  
• Do my Banking (get money order, deposit checks, get roll of quarters, get info on life insurance)
  
• Go to post office
  
• Visit Optometrist to get Pumpkin's eyeglasses repaired
  
• Office Depot – buy filing cabinet
  
• Visit Fishmonger – get swordfish, sea bass and mussels
  
• Supermarket – buy groceries for next 2 weeks
  
• Go to Drug Store – buy sundries
  
• Take my son to the park and play softball/catch
  
• While watching College Football do the following:
  
  - Plan/prep dinners for Saturday, Monday & Tuesday
  
  - Go online & schedule Milk/Fruit/Veggie delivery
  
  - Move old files into new file cabinet
  
  - Put together exercise equipment
  
  
• While watching Tigers devour Cardinals
  
  - reconcile checkbook
  
  - write checks for bils
  
  - review EOB's against billls submitted to insurer
  
  - plan for the week ahead
  

  UPDATE: Office Depot didn't have any filing cabinets in the store (huh?). Per salesperson I must order them online. As for fixing the leak and putting together the exercise equipment, I must say that I'm very proud of myself and did both very easily and well, needing only 3 bandaids in the process!
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  1 Oops - it was the Cards smacking down the Tigers. *grin* Hope it didn't slow down your todo's.

  Posted by: Teresa at October 21, 2006 11:58 PM (o4pJS)

  2 You forgot "Buy bandaids"....

  Posted by: _Jon at October 22, 2006 09:57 AM (uCdAQ)

  3 I wish I was with you this weekend.

  Posted by: Tink at October 23, 2006 12:05 PM (11q5z)

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With each new human remains discovery I wonder if this will finally be the time that Mike's remains will be identified.

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The Cards left my beloved Mets at the alter of of the World Series. Since I'm feeling jilted and frustrated I decided to pay my bet/debt as quickly as possible.

So for the next week, or until The Tigers handily and quickly slaughter the Cards, this logo will remain prominently displayed on my sidebar.

Posted by: Michele at 12:27 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 Tigers in 5.

Posted by: Ogre at October 20, 2006 06:54 AM (oifEm)

2 Unfarookin' believable! I stayed up to watch and actually got excited in the bottom of the 9th, bases jammed, 1 out, and *choke.

Posted by: Sgt Hook at October 20, 2006 07:00 AM (ZkBlA)

3 Ahhh. I would have been nice to see a win for y'all last night. Interesting use of the word "Destiny". I listened to an interview with a '68 Tiger this morning and he is excited about this being a "re-match" of then. I was 2 at the time.

Posted by: _Jon at October 20, 2006 07:42 AM (g9Y9+)

4 Go, Tigers!

Posted by: Roses at October 21, 2006 01:52 PM (bBBTs)

5 Agreed. Tigers in 5. They were a little rusty in Game 1, but they'll take the next four. The AL is just much better than the NL.

Posted by: Shawn at October 22, 2006 03:53 PM (621cV)

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This girl has been so incredibly busy at work that she will be taking to bed a couple of briefing books on national security and a congressional report on the Military & Defense Dept.Â’s Information Operations and Cyberwar Capabilities and Related Policy Issues.

The latter is really interesting reading. Really!

Link updated - thanks to RSM.

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1 Just so you know, here in the Chicago area, a single woman I know took a presentation and an inventory list to bed with her last night. And I can promise you, neither one of THOSE were interesting.....

Posted by: Tammi at October 19, 2006 05:20 AM (3UQTn)

2 Oh, is THAT what they're calling it these days? Darn kids and their slang...

Posted by: Ogre at October 19, 2006 01:26 PM (oifEm)

3 *sigh* link didn't work for me... but sounds like some fun reading ;-)

Posted by: Teresa at October 19, 2006 04:59 PM (o4pJS)

4 Good link here: http://www.fas.org/irp/crs/RL31787.pdf Sweet. at just 14 pages it's not bad either. Go Clay Wilson! (not the artist or the hockey player ones, though)

Posted by: RSM at October 19, 2006 06:52 PM (Grpq4)

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Sgt Reyes is actively recruiting subscribers to this new calendar. Just in case you need an additional incentive, 100% of the proceeds will benefit injured veterans and their families.

This calendar, published by Freedom Is Not Free, shows former Marine Corps Sgt. Rudy Reyes, of Kansas City, Mo. on the cover of their 2007 calendar 'Americas's Heroes: Reconnaissance Marines'. Please visit their website to view the pictures and to purchase your own copy. My favorite month is September. What's yours?

To view the Today interview with Sgt Reyes and some of his fellow marines click this link.

(AP Photo/Freedom Is Not Free, Tim Mantoani)

UPDATE: Will gladly give equal time to a non-profit woman's calendar that meets my approval.

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A couple of my favorite bloggers have either recently celebrated a birthday or are about to. I want to celebrate them in the way they have celebrated my efforts in living life - with lots of humor. So here for them are some very special gifts:

For Dear Sweet Eric: The big question was what to get a man that has everything in life. The only thing I could come up with that he needed, was something to fend off those fearless nubile promiscous squirrels he has roaming his property. Here it is Eric, your very own squirrel protection system.

For Zonker - Mr. Funnyman the Thunderman: Sweetie, thanks for thinking and calling me in good times and in bad. Here's a litle something to keep his mouth busy!

For Jim - Mr. Joisey Cool: Here's a sweet set for you to play with ; )

My blog sisters are all incrediblely smart, funny and sexy women. This week my PDA told me it was one of my blog sis' birthdays. VW, I had your birthday on my calendar for this week, so I'm celebrating it now. Sorry about the mix-up but I'm sure you won't mind when you see that I've gotten you your very own luv-mobile with a special edition pillow. Enjoy!

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I'm getting a bit self-conscious and embarrassed from all the attention. Believe me it is all greatly appreciated. I'm just not used to it. I'm more comfortable being invisible, the unnoticed one; the one that always flies under the radar undetected. So all I can humbly say is thank you. Thank you for all the support and kind words. Thank You for making a rough and challenging week easier. And thank you for not letting me sit home all alone with my thoughts and coaxing me out of my shell with your comments, emails and text messages.

The turn around began in earnest when I started to receive them; it continued with a long phone call in the middle of the night Friday morning, from a professional comedian friend of mine who read my blog. At around 2am Friday he had just finished a show and decided to call to cheer me up. At one point he had me laughing so hard that I was gasping for air and had tears in my eyes. That helped my outlook Friday and the day went a lot easier and faster. My co-workers also helped by picking up my lunch for me on both Thursday and Friday and helping with anything I needed. IÂ’m grateful that work is slow and it will continue to be that way until election day. By then I should be feeling 100%.

Some of the kids I have mentored in the past stopped by midday yesterday to help with small chores and errands, which made me even more grateful and made me believe that I had an angel looking out for me. Last night, while laying on the couch getting bummed out as I watched my Mets loose horribly, I began getting text messages from several bloggers that I really respect and admire. To one of them I wanted to text “I’m not worthy” but he’s already told me once to cut that out and not go there, so I didn’t. This morning I got a call from the firefighters who worked the rescue with me last Sunday. They were on duty and were checking in on how I was doing. They’re a great group of guys who were also fun to talk to. One of them, who has done 2 tours in Iraq, gave me pointers on what to do about the rescue related nightmares and flashbacks For that bit alone I’m most grateful, because now I have tools to work through some of the challenging stuff that has been going on in my head recently.

In truth, I have felt the same way about all your wonderful comments and messages. They have all been good for the soul; and they have all helped me in one way or another. I still donÂ’t feel much like a hero because I did what any decent abled body human being should do in the same situation. In fact, in NYC itÂ’s a crime not to help someone in need. Sad isnÂ’t it that we need such a law on the books, but there it is. So for today, all thatÂ’s left hurting are from my trapezoids to the base of my skull, which are being treated with some state of the art patches I was given by my orthopedist Friday. They feel good, but I donÂ’t know about wearing these patches on my clothes. I donÂ’t like drawing attention to myself, and well, wearing these over your clothes you canÂ’t help but draw attention to yourself. The good thing is that my suit jacket will cover these things tomorrow AND thereÂ’s no granny smell. I seem to getting tendonitis in both my elbows, but I think my texting to the different people yesterday for a couple of hours has more to do with that than anything else. My calves and hamstrings are no longer cramping and getting spasms, but for the life of me I donÂ’t understand why my glutes are still hurting. All this pain defies comprehension. My orthopedist gave me rational explanations for what happened and found bruises on my back to explain it all. Apparently, I was slammed repeatedly against the rocks and just didnÂ’t realize how hard.

So for today, IÂ’ll just continue relaxing, watching football in the daytime, baseball at night and live in dread of losing the bet to my blog bro Jon. Darn, I really was hoping to overhaul his site. I thought lavender and pink with cute lite airy bubbles would look smashing on his macho site. I even made drawings of what I wanted to do to it too. Guess it was the drug induced cockiness that made me talk of sporting a bathing suit and posting it on my blog for a week if I lost. WHAT WAS I THINKING???!!!!!

Anyway, as you can tell, IÂ’m feeling much better emotionally too. Maybe what IÂ’ll do is post some of the jokes my comedian friend told me once I get clearance from him. They were hysterical and much better than some of the jokes Redneck has been posting at his site. I think he should just stick to fishing advice. He does better at that than his jokes and predictions. BTW, Redneck, that last swipe is so youÂ’ll leave my blog-sis and Michigan alone.

Posted by: Michele at 03:05 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 So glad to read you are feeling better. But then again, you are just about the strongest person I know. Did I mention in 2 weeks we'll be having dinner? Yeah, can you believe it?!?!?!? ;-)

Posted by: Tammi at October 15, 2006 06:43 PM (3UQTn)

2 I am so glad you are feeling better. If you ever want to vent, the bug can tell you how to get ahold of me.

Posted by: Tink at October 15, 2006 09:04 PM (11q5z)

3 Oh I am so glad that you are feeling better. Now if all of the risidual pain could just go away! And if the Mets could win one too!

Posted by: Richmond at October 16, 2006 12:36 PM (e8QFP)

4 Good to hear. And the glutes? It's because they work differently and you use them so much for everything -- it always takes a day or three extra before they react to whatever stress they get.

Posted by: Ogre at October 18, 2006 10:37 AM (oifEm)

5 Ok, you don't like my jokes? What'd doc' give you for that Meatchicken lover...? Your blog-sis and I squared away the details of the bet long ago, and I'll honor 'em. I know I'm just askin' for "ladies night" at the 'Neckshack, by runnin' the smack I am, but hell, I'm thinkin', if I win this one, there'll be 3, count 'em 3 female bloggers blogs that have officially "snap" been 'Necked. You want fishin' advice? Get ESPN2. You want sick humor and a doofus behind the wheel, come on back... Tammi had me beat, Choue had me beat, now, Qdub's got me beat. Truth be told, I think she's the closest to beatin' my "prediction". Rivalry games... anything can happen, here or in ash harbor. Glad you're feelin' better and those patches... aren't they supposed to go on the "skin"? If you where 'em on the outside, I think you clothes get all the pain relief... I'm just sayin'. Just so you can laugh, I'll drop a shorty on you... "It was reported that the Michigan Football Coach Lloyd Carr will only be dressing 20 players for the Ohio State game this Saturday...the rest of the players will have to dress themselves!" ;~

Posted by: RedNeck at October 19, 2006 08:12 PM (a6pA8)

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Oddy & RSM have both said to me that "anger is good". Tonight I'm beginning to think they're absolutely right. Part of the reason I'm so angry is the incredible amount of pain I'm in. I normally have a high threshold for pain, but right now I feel like I've been hit by a Mac truck, it's backed up, and run over me several times over.

Although I hurt all over, I'm in excrutiating pain from the middle of my back all the way to the base of my skull. I've already called my two old physical therapists, accupunturist and my massage therapist all who did a great job restoring me back to health after my ski accident, but the earliest any of them can see me is the middle of next week. So I have no choice for now but to wait. My Kingdom for a good pair of strong hands to work on me!

In the mean time, I smell absolutely lovely! Not of lavender & such, but according to my accupuncturist my eau de Tiger-balm & Eucalyptus smell is very enticing to her Ben-gay crowd. On nights like this I am ooooh so glad I am single. Oohhhh wait, I just realized, if I wasnt' I could ask my partner oh so sweetly for a back massage. Oh well, at least I don't have to hear complaints about my overpowering aromatic scent.

But what is really sending me over the edge is learning this evening from the detectives on the case, that this woman - who threw her baby into the water, is now claiming temporary insanity.

She's so lucky to be in protective custody. Really... she is... because had she been within reach tonight I think there would have been a 2nd person claiming that defense after throwing her out her hospital window. For now, I hope she rots in a hell of a cell for the rest of her life, with the smell of the ocean always nearby to remind her every moment of her life of what she did.

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As I slowly became aware of my surroundings I realized I was traveling with the fire chief in his truck. As I focused on him I found myself staring at his face searching for some clue of what he was saying. He was speaking quite animatedly and gestured with his right hand for emphasis. At first I thought I couldnÂ’t hear him because of ocean water in my ears. But after awhile I realized I just couldnÂ’t hear anything at all, and thought that perhaps it was my brainÂ’s way of protecting me, of shutting out the world.

I turned to look straight ahead at the road but had no idea where we were because I had never been to that part of Serenity Beach before. All I seemed to know was that we were following the ambulance, heading to the nearest hospital. I would learn everything else once we got there.

Somehow I slipped away once again because the next thing I remember was the fire chief picking me up and carrying me out of the truck and placing me gently on a stretcher in the parking lot. Feeling embarrassed I said weakly: “I… I think I can walk.”

“Not with those nasty cuts on your feet” he said pointing to my bare feet. As I looked down I realized that not only my feet were bare, but that my pants were soaking wet. In fact, my entire body was soaking wet.

“I don’t feel a thing” I said puzzled, looking at myself.

“I’m sure you don’t... you’re suffering from severe hypothermia.” He then turned to the hospital staff that had just met us. He began telling them what had happened as I slowly tuned them out. I remembered that in all the commotion, no one had noticed the cuts on my feet. Not even me.

Once we got inside the warm hospital room I began to shiver uncontrollably. A few short minutes later I started to feel the sharp pinpricks in my hands and legs. Because of my violent shaking I wasn't able to answer any questions. Giving them information would have to wait till later. As the nurses helped me remove my wet pants and running bra, they decided to ask only those questions I could nod my head yes or no to. After awhile, they quietly began taking my vital signs and drawing blood, which allowed my mind to drift once again.

I found myself back at the beach looking at the horizon, moments before I would jump in the water for the 2nd time. I suddenly sat up in bed gasping for air startling everyone in the room. In spite of my uncontrollable shivering I forced myself to ask, "WhatÂ… happenedÂ… toÂ… theÂ… baby?"

Everyone was quiet and after briefly glancing up and exchanging glances between them they continued working, as if they didn't know what I was talking about or didn't understand me. I turned to the fire chief who had just walked into the room and stopped at the foot of my bed.

“They’re working on her right now. “I’ll let you know how she’s doing as soon as I check on her, but for now you need to lay down and let the nurses put the oxygen mask on you and get the iv into your arm.” I looked at the nurse, tubes in one hand, a needle in the other, waiting for me to settle back down on the bed. Stabbing pains kept shooting up my legs with a growing intensity that wouldn’t stop.

The water had been painfully cold when I jumped in. Although I hesitated for a minute, I knew I had no choice as soon as I realized what I was looking at. At first glance I thought it was a loose log from the old pier, but as I stared more intently, I knew it was a woman floating in the water. As I dialed 911, I debated whether or not I should go in. As I took off my jacket, sweatshirt and sneakers I wondered if I had enough energy and strength to pull her to safety, especially having undergone chemotherapy the day before.

The last time I was on that beach I almost lost my life struggling against a strong undercurrent while trying to save a 5 yr old. I was afraid this time I wouldn't be so lucky, and would leave my son an orphan. But then I thought, if it were my son out there I'd want someone to do whatever they could to save him. I prayed out loud as I ran towards and then jumped into the icy water.

Somehow I managed to get her out and pull her onto the sand to began CPR. At the same time I started frantically screaming for help. I hoped that even if no one could hear me at least someone would see me. I prayed hard that help would come soon as my arms were starting to get tired. As luck would have it there was a group of off duty firefighters having a celebration at a nearby restaurant. Within minutes they were at my side. Just as I let go, to let them take over CPR compressions the woman began throwing up and choking.

It was only when she came to and began asking for her baby that the terrible realization gripped me: I never looked for anyone else. As the firefighters and I raced towards the water leaving her in the care of others just arriving I told them where I had found the mother floating in the water. They asked me to climb the rocky pier and do a visual search for the baby. It was only when I got to the end of the rocks that I looked down and saw the babyÂ’s naked body being pushed against the rocks by the waves. As I screamed at the firefighters I realized they had gone too far out and couldnÂ’t hear me over the ocean. I decided IÂ’d have to take a running jump off the rocks to try and avoid them as I went into the water. Then I could swim back to fish the baby out. By my calculations we had already lost 7 minutes and we couldnÂ’t waste any more time.

As I jumped in the firefighters took notice and swam towards me. They met me at the edge of the sand and helped me get out of the water then took the baby from my arms to begin CPR. I took a few steps after them and finally collapsed on my hands and knees, too exhausted to go any further.

Suddenly, there was a hand waving in front of my face: “Ma’am? Ma’am? Can you hear me?” I slowly turned to see who was talking to me and barely nodded my head. The man in the white Dr's coat then asked, “Do you think you can tell us about your medical history?"

I tried saying the words 'Yes', but my teeth were clenched shut from the tightness in my muscles and uncontrollable shaking. I had been half naked in the frigid water too long. I managed to say the word “cell” loud enough for the fire chief to realize I wanted my cell phone. After they stopped trying to convince me that I couldn’t make a call I said the word “ICE”, after which the fire chief produced my phone and looked in my contacts info under ICE. There, aside from my emergency contacts was a memo with the most important facts of my medical history. Once the doc confirmed there was no frostbite, he asked for more blankets and a heater to be brought into my room.

Turning once again to the Fire chief, I said the one word I cared most about at that moment, “Baby?” The fire chief hesitated before answering and that pause made me fear the worst. RSM’s words quickly flashed before my eyes, ‘we lose more than we save’. I was fervently praying for the odds and blessings to be in her favor.

“They’re still working on her, she’s in a coma.” As I heard this tears began streaming down my face, all I could do was ask God to help her. As much as I wanted her to live, I knew she had been in the water far too long. Too long to recover and lead a normal happy life. So I resumed my prayers for either a miraculous recovery or a quick and merciful death. All while remembering the words "the odds are against us".

I just couldn't let go of hope, I was all she had left at the moment rooting for her as her mom had slipped into unconciousness. I had seen the infant as they had taken her from my arms, in spite of the many cuts and bruises on her body, she was a beautiful little girl of about 8 months old. The memory of her wet long blond hair framing her sweet angelic face as I held her, made me finally break down.

It was only when I was released from the hospital that I learned the babyÂ’s name was Brook. The next day I also learned that she got out of her coma long enough to lose her fight and was pronounced dead Monday at 12:15pm.

The incredible pain in my body from the rescue effort, is nothing compared to the overwhelming pain in my heart when I learned from Police Monday night that Brook's mother is being charged with homicide, after admitting she botched their suicide attempt. The overpowering anger at having saved a murderer only adds to the guilt of having failed an innocent helpless child.

Words fail me, as my brain tries to manage understanding all of this. There is very little anyone can say or do to make this loss less painful. I've learned by now that only in time will I begin to accept all of this, even when I don't understand or forgive myself or her mother.

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Oh, how I'd love to visit this mountainside once again. But I can't, instead I will have to be content with giving my imagination free reign. Perhaps join Asimov on his favorite plane.

Blood red moons always inspire thoughts of interplanetary travel in hyperspeed space capsules that would enable me to meet odd shaped higher intelligent beings. These interesting creatures/visitors can only communicate telepathically with other sensitive sentient beings.

They are hypersensitive to emotions and extreme environmental conditions. That's why you will only find the few that are visiting us here on earth living quietly somewhere in the Aluteian Islands, blending in with the flora and fauna.

Pray tell, what images or thoughts does the sight of the Blood Moon conjure up in you?

Posted by: Michele at 12:23 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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It's been away for far too long
and has that which I hold dearly
all my love for my creativity.

I winced at hearing myself read how awful it was outloud. After a very long pause, her first words were “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” She said this in a somewhat weary tone that belied the disappointment and frustration she felt underneath her sweet southern Tennessee accent. Artists have very fragile and insecure egos, so she was very careful in walking the line between former teacher and creative mentor. I knew her well enough not to waste either of our time with vane excuses.

“What else you got? Because I know you, you've probably been sitting down writing and trying to force yourself to come up with something instead of painting or reading or doing something else that might free you up creatively.” She was right. After they cyber attack destroyed my pc and I lost my new poems, I got frustrated and stopped writing, my heart no longer in it. The looming deadline was the only thing that forced back onto a page.

“Well, you better come up with somethin’, ‘cause your name is already in the program and you’re closing the show. Otherwise that silence you hear after your name will be forever owned by you. It will resonate within you for years to come, and you’ll never be able to take it back.” [This is writer speak for disappointed the audience with a creative void. The punishment for such a sin is a deafening silence.]

So after hanging up the phone, I called the sitter and asked her to pick up my son so I could take a very long walk by the river. By the time I stopped and inspiration had struck, I had walked 6 miles. But in the process I found the first few lines for my poem and a back up plan. The theme I was assigned was ‘My Warring Muse’

After a dozen or so false starts, these are the first few lines that IÂ’m finally content with:

AmorÂ… te anoro.
Mi alma busca de nuevo conocer
la sublimidad que es tu ser.

Update: My translation is below
My Love... I long for you.
My soul is searching once again
to know the sublimity that is you.

I think I”ll have enough time to compose a poem. But if I don’t. I won’t be the first one to read a work in progress from a notebook. In the meantime, in the next post you can read my back up plan. A translation I wrote of a Pablo Neruda poem that speaks of the love/hate relationship writers have with their muses.

Posted by: Michele at 12:58 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 435 words, total size 3 kb.

SONNET LXVI

I DON”T LOVE YOU... Because I Love you
and from loving you to not loving I arrive
at waiting while not waiting,
all the while, my heart going from ice to fire.

I love only you because it is you I love.
I hate you endlessly and hating plead
to the measure of your temporary love
never to see you or love you blindly.

Perhaps your cruel streak
will consume my heart and inner light
stealing with it my eternal peace.

In this story it is I who die
dying in my love and need of you
loving with passion blood and fire only you.
~ Pablo Neruda, 1959 - Translation my own

SONETO LXVI
NO TE QUIERO sino porque te quiero
y de quererte a no quererte llego
y de esperarte cuando no te espero
pasa mi corazón del frío al fuego.

Te quiero sólo porque a ti te quiero,
te odio sin fin, y odiándote te ruego,
y la medida de mi amor viajero
es no verte y amarte como un ciego.

Tal vez consumirá la luz de enero,
su rayo cruel, mi corazón entero,
robándome la llave del sosiego.

En esta historia sólo yo me muero
y moriré de amor porque te quiero,
porque te quiero, amor, a sangre y fuego.
~ Pablo Neruda, 1959

Posted by: Michele at 12:10 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Over 2 years ago I told a funny story about using a phrase whose meaning was shifted in translation because of the country that I was working in at the time. Well, it seems that I've done it again. Only this time with a work colleague. I really meant to be helpful and spare him a bit of embarrassment as we stood there in the pantry. Well, it seems that in giving him a private message in French, a language virtually no one else on our floor spoke, I said something that in colloquial French meant something slightly different. So while I tried to tell him that his zipper was undone, I said instead 'I'd like to undo your zipper'. Sigh!

Sometimes I think I should just stick to English, IÂ’d definitely do better.

Posted by: Michele at 03:07 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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That was the initial diagnosis by the Emergency Medical Technician (EMT) Trainee that examined me this morning after a stupid guy on a cell phone rammed a door into my foot. This was after spending almost 3 hours overnight throwing up and laying in bed with stomach cramps till 4am from what I believe was a case of food poisoning.

So as I held onto the door, for fear of collapsing in pain, I wished that guy would experience Karmic retribution soon for what heÂ’d done. He quickly went on his way while everyone else around me just stopped and stared in amazement. One woman said as if I wasnÂ’t there: "Wow, she didn't yell, she didnÂ’t curseÂ… she didnÂ’t even cry. I would have at least called the guy a stupid m^%$#@*ker!" Well, just because I didnÂ’t say it didnÂ’t mean I didnÂ’tÂ’ think it.

Actually I didn't do any of those things because I was focusing all my attention on my injury, assessing my situation trying to figure out if I could stand let alone walk on it. The truth was I couldnÂ’t. So there I was, in the lobby of my building, waiting for the cavalry in the form of EMT's.

After the initial examination and prognosis by Jr. EMT, I was given 2 options. The first was to go by ambulance with them to the local emergency room. The 2nd was to refuse their care and see my own Dr. For me the decision was easy but I had to make sure that either one of my DrÂ’s or someone at headquarters could see me. Unfortunately for me, being a Jewish holiday meant that my doctors weren't in.

I will do anything in order to avoid going to a Hospital's emergency room...
A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G! While the rookie EMT was conferring with the experienced EMT and finishing up my paperwork I called the medical office at our headquarters 2 blocks away to let them know I would be coming over and in what condition. Being the resourceful chick that I am, I called in a few favors and got taken in a wheelchair by 2 guys who are (terrific former Marines) on our security staff. Our medical office is staffed by well qualified and very experienced, PA's, PT's and RN's. The guys stuck around and tried to make light of the situation by telling me of their injuries during their last deployment. How could I think of even complaining after that?

By the time the nurse saw me, one of my toes was turning black and blue and the rest of my injured toes were swelling up. Even though I was still in some pain, I still believed that my toes were not broken, hairline fracture maybe, but not broken.

The nurse was the first to try to examine me, but since I was squirming and moving too much she wasnÂ’t able to finish and called in the PhysicianÂ’s Asst. for help. He too was unable to complete the exam as I was by then writhing. He in turn called in the PT to see if he would have better luck with me. After I calmed down a bit I explained that I had been through this before so I asked if they had any type of topical anesthetic on hand.

After the PT sprayed me with the anesthetic, they placed bags of ice on both sides of my foot so they could numb my foot and eventually examine me without me thrashing about. It was only after my foot was completely numb that they were able to check my toes and my foot without me thrashing and crying out in both pain and hysterical laughter. At one point I had all the staff laughing hysterically with me as they had never seen anything like it.

Yes, I know itÂ’s strange, what can I say, I have extremely sensitive feet. Whenever anyone touches my feet I start giggling like mad, and if they continue, within a minute I break out into uncontrollable hysterical laughter. My security escorts thought it was so strange to hear me in such a hysterical fit of laughter instead of crying that they asked to come in and see me. I was laughing so hard when they walked in that they eventually started laughing too. I was laughing so hard I couldnÂ’t even speak.

As the guys closed the door to the taxi that was taking me home I overheard one of them say to the other: “that’s one hell of an area to have an erogenous zone.” I wanted to tell them 'nope that's one hell of an area to have a hysterical funny zone.' What they don’t know is whenever I want to laugh that hard all I have to do is get a pedicure or go to buy shoes and I’m left smiling and giggling for the rest of the afternoon.

BTW, the diagnosis: hairline fracture in 1 toe. Result: IÂ’m wearing an iddy biddy splint and a smile!

Posted by: Michele at 11:57 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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