(photo with this entry is of Hurricane Ike's entry blowing in over Houston, TX. Eight hours in advance we see the rings. These cloud rings were swirling deceptively above us, like a hypnotic cotton-candy carousel. Ring after ring after ring...)

Government mumbo-jumbo…

Let’s plug the new standard “government bail-out” into the Devil’s Dictionary, shall we?

So… we have a new president. For a change, we’re about to Give Peace a Chance… whether we like it or not, dammit. And now I can stop pretending to be Canadian -- and start openly claiming that Pappaw Souter was a quarter black man. Awwwsoomme.

The economy is toxic. The world’s monetary system is toxic. This whole world of ours is toxic… and just begging and pleading for a good, old-fashioned colon-cleanse anyways, so let’s just git-r-done.

To quote the words of the great Lilly Tomlin: Things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get worse.

Now to that dictionary entry…
It looks like the government is about to compensate the shuck-and-jive-mofo idiots on Wall Street more than fairly for their loss. With our tax money! Can you believe it? Believe it, because it’s absurd. And, as these things will happen, it now takes an emergency meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff for a normal person to take advantage of some of these sweet new bail-outs served up to our financiers -- on a naked, beautiful, extremely expensive Chinese woman’s body, no less.

Ooohh, we know how you like it, America. Love you long time… (whip cracking)


…but the fun doesn’t stop there!

Well, it’s almost Thanksgiving. Let me remind you of what it is all about in this family during this happy, hallowed holiday: James will be removing the sack of grossness from the turkey’s ass, popping open a beer and finding a football game inHD. Meanwhile, I will be whipping up an amazing feast, along with our assortment of weird, upper-white trash culinary vittles that our mom insists upon every…single…year. A couple of years back, I did not buy the aluminum can jam-packed with mysterious cranberry Jell-o, et al. and our Mom actually teared up. She took it all personal and stuff. Nevermind that I had actually made a fresh relish concoction out of FRESH cranberries, blood orange segments, fresh ginger root, toasted pecans, brown sugar. Oh, hell no! I’ll never pull that trick on our mom again.

And, of course, we will be thinking about you… and, of course, trying not to think about what you will be eating. Please try to call. We’ll all be at my house for the festivities. So pass the beer nuts! No, wait. In observance of the opening of the holiday season: “Pass the candied beer nuts!”

And now let me tell you why we missed out on the chance to visit the Pea Patch for The ?? Annual Squirrel Hunt and Debauchery in the Ozarks Event at our family compound last week…

I have attached a couple of pictures with Chandler and Missy (the young woman who has made Chandler miserable since the 4th grade.) Aren't they a cute couple? Chandler is now taller than his mother! These two are now "going out" (???) with each other. Which means, I presume, going out of their minds. Chandler does not date yet... but we are getting uncomfortably close to that reality.

I have attached a couple pics. As you will notice, they match. While out shopping for new everything that Chandler required for the dance, I picked out an apple-green Ralph Lauren shirt and matching tie. Chandler balked. He did not realize that he needed to coordinate his outfit with his gal's.

While making a few minor alterations and pressing his suit, my eyes fell upon a spool of bright, apple-green ric rac. You know, the decorative, wavy embellishment darling of the '70s? Looks sort of like this.... wwwwwwwwwww

I had time to kill. I was also feeling the need to get even, since he'd robbed me of my trip to the Pea Patch, so.... I tacked the apple-green ric rac all over his suit. The cuffs, sleeves, pocket, collar. Had the whole thing nicely pressed and on a hanger for him.

When he saw his suit, he screamed like a little girl. Really. The thing looked like a mariachi costume. It was gorgeous, in a very demented way. Heh-heh. I've attached a picture, but the picture doesn't do the outfit justice. He honestly did not know that I was playing a joke on him. Priceless!

Teet yoo peervis!! Teet yooo peervis!!!

Each yoga session, Master Yang is getting louder and closer to my face. Six weeks into my instruction, the marble drops into the right hole, and I finally figure out that Master Yang is instructing me to “tilt my pelvis.” Finally! Things start to fall in line and I see that Master Yang does smile, after all. I feel that I came dangerously close to a waterboarding session.

This is Dahn Yoga. A very pure, practical theory. James calls it “Damn Yoga.” This is because I have signed him up for a three-month session and purchased for him his own billowing, fatboy set of yoga pajamas in which to learn this new craft. He’s pretty indignant about the whole thing. Doesn’t want his damn chakras opened. I only have one thing to say about this: ah shinadahhh…

But, as you know, I am a total hedonist and am generally impatient with self-help theory and physical fitness regimens, so please stand by.

And they think that they can make a ripple in the ocean of time??

Mom and Dad really enjoyed their visit with you recently. Apparently, they made a mini-vacation out of the trip. They were so moved by the experience that they rented one of the little cabins on Lake Hugo for the following weekend and brought along maw-maw and paw-paw, who are very, very frail and close to the end of their lives. Maw-maw grew up in that area, as you know. They drove them out to Ft. Towsen and surrounding areas, just so Maw-maw and paw-paw could look around. Our mom and dad are the most selfless, caring, generous people that I know. So what happened to us? Heh-heh.

(props to my brilliant daughter, the artist of this '20s era gem)


Since I am a go-getter (obsessive/compulsiveness rocks) I have made a drastic turnaround. If you read the first sentence of the following paragraph, skip over everything in the middle, then pick back up with the last sentence, you will get only a fraction of the new routine. Okay. Here we go…

I am on week six of my new life. I am cooking at home. I have always cooked "very healthy" but have made modifications such as... no more white flour/white flour products. I'm eating strictly rye bread, wild salmon twice a week, steamed fresh ORGANIC vegetables... two glasses of red wine a day, period! One cup of coffee a day, period! Nothing processed. Nothing that has been feed unbelieveable amounts of antibiotics or growth hormones. Only using olive oil and light canola, when necessary. No margarins. Very limited dairy. I did test with dairy, and my stomach doesn't care for certain types of dairy products -- with the exception of butter and Activa yogurt. The list goes on. It is almost a diabetic diet that I am on, which is a very healthy diet, by the way. The only down side, my grocery bill has gone up significantly on the meats and produce. I consider it a worthwhile investment.

Every single day I have at least three cups of African Rooibos tea infused with significant dose of Red Clover and Chinese ginseng extracts. Sounds terrible but it is actually very good. The reason I'm using the extracts is the candida albicans link to MS and about every other autoimmune disease. The Red Clover tea is a natural blood, kidney and liver cleanser. Also I have one cup of hot water with half a lemon and about a teaspoon of freshly grated ginger root around 2:00 p.m. Lemon keeps the body's ph in line. Ph level in the blood and body is serious. Lemon is good for keeping paracites and bacteria at bay. Ginger root for pain, inflamation and also bacteria and paracites.

In addition to taking the multivitamin supplement, I'm taking MSM, glucosamine/chondroitin, ester C, fish oil, coenzyme Q10, B complex. I take a fresh source of flaxseed and evening primrose, mixed in my yogurt in the morning. It was pointed out to me by a source that I highly respect that ester C is THE only vitamin C we should be taking with supplements, because ester C is a supperior "vehicle" to efficiently deliver the supplements.

I joined Dahn Yoga a month ago also. Sister, am I ever a believer in yoga now! I was struggling with constant daily pain. Aching and burning pain. I have not taken an Advil or Tylenol since my first week of yoga class. (I try to go three times a week) I would recommend yoga to anyone. It is not simply working on the body. It includes vibration therapy, brain wave therapy (almost a self-hypnosis), meditation, Tai Chi and much more. Let me put a sharp point to one excercise, in particular: deep breathing excercise. I have learned that in this way, 75% of toxins are eliminated through the lungs, compared to 25% in the usual ways... perspiration, urination and defacation. This is amazing new information to me.

In conjunction with everything else, I also started seeing a wonderful psychologist -- who politely demanded I consider an antidepressant and start laying down boundaries for myself. I convinced her that I would go the yoga/lifestyle change route first. I had my doubts at that time. So did she. A month later, she is genuinely impressed and has asked numerous questions about the lifestyle changes and also for the phone number for my yoga studio. She remarked that perhaps she should transition over from Pilates to yoga.

I am typically pretty impatient when it comes to self-help theory, but I am reading a book by the wonderful Ann Boroch that has caused this turnaround, "Healing Multiple Sclerosis." I consider this my new bible, when it comes to my health. Bridget, honestly, take the word "multiple scclerosis" out of the title of this book and fill in the blank with anything autoimmune. This book is unbelievable.

I believe in all of it. That is very key. I have undergone such a transformation -- uplifted spirit, energy and attitude -- that my whole family is on board with this. James and Mere’ have signed up for yoga. Chandler is eating what I am eating and asking questions about ingredients in certain foods. Super-cool?

Yeah. See,I told you so. Wotta’ gigantic pain in the ass my new life is, right??

Not really. I have been told that depression is anger turned inwards. Just what in the hell do I got to be angry about anyway? Worried, yes. But angry?? I say, just because I feel occasionally like plunging a screwdriver into some nice leather upholstery, that doesn’t mean I’m angry. Call me low-class, but that’s a God-damn fact.

I want to feel like I am living an unwritten life. I don’t want hands (figurative) around my neck, forcing me to make fight-or-flight decisions. I want to believe in myself again; like I can create something good and that I’m not just waving in the winds of whatever. Do you think, brother, that this has anything to do with being ALMOST 40?

Ah…my theories being what they are… but truthfully, I am on top of the world now. Feel like I have a new lease on life now. A renewed, healthy body, mind and spirit.

But, as you know, I am a total hedonist and am generally impatient with self-help theory and physical fitness regimens, so please stand by.

Hello, brother.

Well…

…Hell.


I am feeling that I need to offer you an explanation (excuse) for why you have not heard from me in… um... whenever.

10 months, actually.

And then immediately the guilt seized me. Then I told myself, “Fuck- it in a bucket.”

Thank you, Master Yang… (You will understand in a moment.)

I am an absolute strumpet for attention. Synchronicity and Karma are really theories to buy stock in (as long as your chokras are in alignment.) I was sitting on my back porch with the hounds, sipping a cup of hot tea, meditating over the waterfall of my swimming pool and the newfound marvel of an empty mind, and not 10 whole minutes later I get an email. It is from someone who has commented on one of my many websites, “Letters to my Brother in Jail.” The comment says, "You are a very good writer," or something along those lines.

Ahem...

I tried, in vain, to post a thank-you to this mystery commenter, an explanation for my ideas, the inspiration behind the posts, my favorite nonfiction author and breakfast cereal preference. Apparently, the kind commentor had thrown me an anonymous bone. WTH?? Instead of feeling the proper emotion, and then appropriately letting it go (thank you, Master Yang), I was spurred into action (sorry, Master Yang) so I sashayed over to the computer to pick back up with our neglected, one-sided dialog, Brother, hoping in earnest that my anonymous visitor would appear again and pay me another compliment. (My psychologist insists that I need boundaries, and perhaps a closer scrutiny of certain motivations)

Sorry, Brother, for that unfortunate bit of inspiration, but I think this will help explain the dark place in which I have been stuck lately. About eight weeks ago, I suddenly realized that, for many years, I have been stuck in the First Act of “All of These Certain Type Situations Play” AND unless I take drastic action, I will undoubtedly be stuck in the "starring role" of this play for…the…rest… of…my…everlovin’… life. Amen.

My life has been an opera. Thus it is appropriate that I would be listening to a lot of opera music lately, what with this great epiphany. The problem with opera is that an opera is typically one great big party that ends in death. So apropos. That is where I have been headed.