Anne Burrell

What does Food Network's Anne Burrell have in common with Gumby and Flock of Seagulls? 

uhhhhhh..,.,. i dunno... derp

Who Cares? I'll Be DEAD

If you happen to have a couple of cocktails with friends and/or relatives ask the question about what they think their obituary will read.  After the influence of a couple of cocktails and in a relaxed environment you will get the depth of their soul (or lack thereof) speaking and not the PC Miss America conversation.

Beware the answer to the question of, "Who cares what my obituary will read!  I'll be DEAD."

That type of response indicates a narcissist who is only concerned about himself and has zero regard as to how his actions may impact others.  Proceed any further interactions with such individual with extreme caution.

The Obituary

Today my sister had to write her husband's obiturary.  This is not what she was planning on doing today.  I'm certain that after my sister and her husband parted company upon finishing breakfast that fateful day the last thing either of them were thinking was a fatal accident.  Somehow that never makes the "to do" list which we are all obsessed with.

The obituary.  It begs the question of all of us.   What are we going to leave behind?  The only thing that really lives after we are gone are the memories and impressions we made on others.  Notice I used the word "lives."  Leaving behind a pile of money or other material things does not qualify as living.

Which goes back to the obituary.  Which words are going to be used to describe you and your life?  What about my life?  Leaving behind a bitchy blog isn't good enough for me.  I want to try to make peace with everything and practice compassion and kindness.  I know that nobody has found the magic answers to rid the world of injustice, violence, and greed.  Even Jesus Himself was killed for trying.  I'm not going to even try to pretend I have any power.  It's all been tried and said before.

It goes back to my personal mantra of late of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness.  Even for the assholes who really piss me off and don't deserve it.

Day From Hell Part II

Now that the shock of my brother-in-law's death is settling in, it's time to think about the logistics of getting back there for the service.  My sister is in shock and I'm amazed she's functioining as well as she is.  But then again....she's emotionally much stronger and stoic than I will ever be.

I have to admit that this morning it took me a while to get myself together.  I spent much of the night tossing, turning, and once in a while heavy tears.  It got me thinking about everybody who has touched my life and WHAT IF I never got the chance to communicate with them ever again?  :(

The funeral service ought to be an interesting mingling of religious faiths as my sister is Catholic, and her deceased husband a devout Jahovah Witness.  I do know that a service has been scheduled at Kindom Hall, which I believe is the Jehovah place of worship.  I'll go, be quiet and respectful, and try not to offend anybody as I'm not familiar with Jehovah funeral customs.

This has been an emotionally charged year for my sister.  Her daughter got impregnated and gave birth by a registered sex offender.  Her husband died.  Let's see..... what else can we pile on her?  Oh yeah, the fatal accident that claimed her husband's life happened right at the end of their road.  Everytime she goes ANYWHERE she will pass by the scene of the accident.

Here's my buzzword as of late:  compassion, compassion, compassion.  Kindness and compassion.  Forgiveness, kindness, and compassion.  Love, forgiveness, kindness, and compassion.

Wow... I'm started to sound like the Dali Lama  or something.  Even Quiet Rage is really a softie underneath this harsh, bitchy blog.  I dump my frustrations here to make room for more important, healthier emotions like..... compassion.  I'll shut up now.

Oh, and my mammogram was cancelled due to flooding.  I'll have to wait to reschedule.  I'm thinking positive that it's a benign abnormality.  The doctor does not seem freaked out at all.  Here's to my friend, MRH, as she has gone through the breast cancer thing.  When I schedule my mammogram I always think of her as she stresses how important it is to catch this kind of thing early when it's treatable.   She probably just saved my life.

Day from Hell

I can't make this stuff up. 

Today I received a phone call stating that I needed to come back for more testing as my mammogram showed something.  Of course the mind wanders. 

In the fog of "what if I have cancer" played with my head and trying to decipher doctor reports and the next course of action, I received a phone call from my older brother. 

I was actually on the phone with my doctor when my brother beeped in.  My brother did not leave a message.  Weird.  When I finished speaking with my doctor I called my brother back.  I was teetering on whether or not to tell him about my lab results.  I'm glad I didn't.

My brother said that he had news.  He then went on to tell me that our brother-in-law (my sister's husband) died in a car accident on Highway 8.  WTF?????????????????????

I immediately called my sister and could tell that she was in shock.  Incoherent jibberish is basically all that she could mutter.  Who could blame her?  I got spotted details from my sister about their morning out together having breakfast and how they gone off in a separate cars as he had to go to work.  He never made it.  My sister had got word of a fatal accident on Highway 8 and texted her husband to ask if he was OK.  No response.

My sister is now instantly a widow and she has a heavy load.  I won't go into details about her two daughters and her granddaughter who is 5 months old.  

Lost at Sea

I had a dream last night where I was on a sailboat out on the rough waters.  The waves were HUGE and threatening.  I had no idea how to navigate a boat, but there I was out there alone knowing I had to figure it out quickly or die. 

Dating and Life Experience

I'm watching this cruel, brutal dynamic called dating.  It starts when we are about 13-14 years old and our hearts flutter, we become tongue tied, and butterflies enter our stomachs upon seeing someone for no reason.

Anyway, as life presents us with milestones such as marriage, kids, etc., many find themselves alone again and revert back to being 13-14 years old.  Dating is MUCH different later in life.  For starters, it takes more than passing notes in class with Jimmy with little hearts and check the box "do you like me yes or no."

After decades of dealing with being lied to, cheated on, and deserted there is a much more cynical air to this love game.  I guess it's a type of emotional defense mechanism. 

I suppose that's why it's so hard for people to date after age 40.  Life has taught that people are not always what they claim to be.  Those with true intentions will persevere on and still attempt to sift through the piles of sludge for the chance of finding a golden heart.  Those with impure intentions will just prey on somebody younger and weaker than themselves to save them from being alone. 

Colin Crabtree

Have you met Colin Crabtree?  I have not, but I heard he's a real asshole. 

Who names their kid Colin, anyway?  I suppose the same people who also name their kids Dick. 

Bored and Brave

Think of your life like this....  living on the midwest prarie.  Winters are long and hard.  There is NO chance of self-actualization, romance, or trips to the art gallery to spend your afternoon or other hopes of distraction.  It's just ugly us.  Even if we wanted to get out we probably couldn't because of wicked blizzard conditions.  Whatever. 

We are the "Bored and the Brave"  unlike the "Bold and the Beautiful." 

Are you tuned in?  Probably not as this is the Mundane Channel. 

Morton's Mud Hole: Dakota Prarie

Maybe it's just me being all meloncholy about the holidays and such that has me thinking about my family and roots on the North Dakota prarie.  No, it's not the glamorous place to be from, but it's where I am from.  I wish i could say that North Dakota/Minnesota is famous for>>>>>>>>>>>.  See what I mean?  Nothing really comes to mind.

Growing up, my summers were spent shoveling pig shit and hoeing sugar beats.  I was never happier.
At dusk we would then go to Morton's Mud Hole to bathe.  Yup.  It was a truck full of dirty farm kids with a couple bottles of shampoo and a bar of soap to jump into this pond/mudhole to wash off the top layer of grime so we could actually get back to the house to shower and clean up.  It was a multi-step process,  you know.  You had to get cleaned up before you got cleaned up.

At dusk Morton's Mud Hole was this wonderment of cross-cultures.  It was where the Whapeton Sioux tribe brought their kids/famlies to hang out.  It was also where the Norweigan settlers and their descendants also hung out.  In later years, it was also where Mexican migrant farm workers brought their families to hang out.

Something magical happened at Morton's Mud Hole.  For so many staunch cultural traditions to come togther in one place with no bias for each other was something that I will never forget.  The draw to Morton's Mud Hole was also magical.  As the sun was setting looking west there were mounds off in the distance.  It was a native burial ground for the Wahpeton Sioux that was rumored to come alive after dark.  I remember my cousin literally grabbing me out of the mud hole with shampoo still in my hair and throwing in the back of the truck stating we HAD to get out of here before the sun set below the priarie horizon because of the resltless spirits.

Now decades later I want to go back and try to listen to what the spirits have to say.

Medical Offices and Large Staff

....and I don't mean large staff as in lots of people doing little to nil.  I mean *LARGE STAFF* as in the proliferation of obese people working in the medical field.

I have a medical condition that has required lots of appointments, tests, surgeries, blah, blah, blah, over the years.  Hanging out at hospitals and doctor offices is somewhat the norm.  What I notice is that many of the medical assistants, technicians, and such are OBESE.  I'm not talking about carrying around a few extra pounds.  I'm talking fat.

Yesterday I needed blood work done.  While I'm waiting my turn at the vampire chair I overheard the two majorly overweight lab techs talking about what they were going to order at Super Burger for lunch.  And these people are supposedly trained and educated in health?  

I just find it so ironic that the stewards of our well-being display the #1 health issue in the United States. 

Arabian Coffee

For years the phrase "Arabian Coffee" was a dance segment in the Nutcracker ballet in which my daughter participated in for many, many years.  I think I hold the world's record on seeing every version of the Nutcracker imaginable.  Dancers are catty.  We spent a lot of time going to different productions of the Nutcracker and then compare notes on their dancers and their interpretation of the music.  We would comment on their "Clara" whether she was en pointe or not.  We would also comment on performances of the Snow Queen and the Sugar Plum Fairy as those two are usually competing roles.  Meow.

The Nutcracker Prince????  Any guy who does ballet has incredible strength, coordination, flexibility and stamina.  I want to smack people who put down male dancers thinking it's only something flaming gay guys do.  Let me rephrase that.  Being a flaming gay guy these days is actually hip, cool and trendy so that's not even a put down.  But it is a put down in the eyes of the those with limited understanding on how demanding dance really is and how "in" it is to be gay.   Sigh. 

I'm getting off track again.  I was talking about Arabian coffee.  For a long, long time I had the reference of the ballet segment.  Thanks to my son, it now has a totally different reference.

I love hanging out with my son when I get the chance, which is not very frequently:(  He is very adventurous and is willing to try just about anything.  He brings me out of my shy, little limited shell of an existence and introduces me to new places, foods, and cultures.  This last week it was Arabian coffee.  My son recommended a restaurant that I would have never gone into on my own.  The decor was like something out of an old movie set with lots of reds and golds with the heavy draperies, tasseled pillows and "I dream of Jeanie" bottles and such.  Everything was very ornate.  The food menu was incomprehensible to me, but my son gave me his infamous 'look' ordered for me and said, "Trust me."

Lo and behold I ended up trying something way out of the ordinary and loved it.  Don't ask me what it was as I could not pronounce it, anyway.  We finished the meal with Arabian coffee which was unlike anything I've ever had before.  Now I have a completely different reference and experience. 

Head Games

I went out with a friend tonight to go dancing.  She is divorced and non-plussed on the dating scene.  Her 17 year marriage was filled with her husband playing sadistic head games with not only her, but their kids, too.  She finally got tired of it and booted him out.

Now it's the dating scene for her.  All she wants is a guy who won't lie to her.  She's having a very difficult time.  She doesn't want to spend her time trying to decipher what's true and what isn't.  Her head and heart have been messed with so badly, starting with her father who was also a liar, she has no reference to what a healthy relationship is. 

My friend is a cute, bubbly blonde woman and men are always flirting with her.  As much as she wants to find a relationship she is so gun shy she's scared to death.  She's scared her heart is closed and she won't ever be able to open up again to trust.

I've been trying to think of guys I know to set her up with.  To be blatantly honest, none I know would be good enough for her.  It's not that she's stuck up and high maintenance.  She is quite the opposite.  She has a heart of gold, down to earth,  has a great personalty, and is soooooooo loving and giving.  Plus, she's an excellent cook.  She WANTS to take care of a man.  She doesn't even care if the guy has kids from a previous relationship/marriage.  She's the type who would embrace them like they were her own and nurture them.

My friend's five-words-or-less take on the dating scene, "So few Richards, and so many Dicks." 

The 100 Days of Christmas

My own little Christmas carol.... here goes
Set to the tune of "The Twelve Days of Christmas"  
la la la la la la la la laaaaaaaaaaa (clears throat)  a-hemmm

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Christmas decorations Labor Day weekend at Costco

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Halloween with a fully decorated tree

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
A mailbox full of catalogs

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Special deals through email


On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
flashy cars and diamonds..........

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Shoppers on Thanksgiving Day

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Black Friday Psychos

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Cyber Monday hackers

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Black Friday deals extended

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Cyber Monday deals extended

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Treats no one eats

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
maxed out credit cards

....it's only December 3rd and I've been sick of Christmas since November 8th.  This is my little way of coping...i know it's dorky but wrote it in less than 5 minutes just for the purpose of venting

Mother Nature's Tears

It seams whenever I have a really good cry, mother nature cries as well with torrential rain.

Bill Cosby: Pervertius Maximus

Oh yeah, there's no shortage of men out there masquarading themselves as Mr. Nice Guy whilst grabbing the asses of teen girls and subjecting them to encounters they are not ready for or not even sure they want.  The biggest offenders usually wear the biggest smiles.  Of course the devil comes in the form of a handsome, charming, funny, intelligent man.  Otherwise you would be instantly afraid of him..

Anyway, now it's the accusations galore coming in from three decades ago from women claiming they were victims.  This is where women are their own worst enemy.  It's so hard to distinguish the painful, true stories of victims who were told to "hush up" for one reason or another -- usually to avoid shame and humiliation, and the stories of copy-cat-this-is-my-2-minutes-of-fame-on-E! Channel.

As a victim of sexual abuse I know first hand the shame and disbelief we face -- mostly from our own families when we finally dare to speak up.  Sometimes getting the courage to speak up takes 20 years or longer.  We don't need some spotlight seeking betches discreditng and casting doubt onto a social issue that is soooooooooo huge!

Ray Rice?????  There are millions of guys like him.  The camera just happened to be in the right place at the right time.  Still, the stories spin on "how she deserved it."

Big Butt

I live in the wrong country/culture.  In Brazil the most common cosmetic surgery is for breast reduction and butt implants.

I'd be a rock star there;)   No surgery required.

Motherhood: Now or Later?

I'm still in the adjustment phase not having kids at my house 24/7.  In reading my past posts from about 5 years ago, I was on the edge of insanity pining for a moment of quiet and solitude in my own home.  I ran an orphanage and animal shelter for 25 years.  I totally wrapped my existence around taking care of others not even giving thought about who I was or what I was doing.  I suppose it's a side-effect of being a mother at barely 21 years of age.  I did not know anything else, nor did I even experience adult life without the responsibility of kids.  What's better?  Having kids while you're young or waiting until later? 

Flip a coin.  Is it better to be a mother at a young age while you have the energy but not necessarily the monetary resources to raise your kids?  Is it better not even to know what adult life sans kids is like living foot-loose-and-fancy-free-only-need-to-think-about-me  to have to suddenly change gears?  It's quite an adjustment going from expensive fashion clothing to wearing puke and poop.

Each 'age of motherhood' choice has it's advantages and disadvantages.  One thing I know for certain:  Babies/young kids don't care what you're wearing, if you're hairstyle came from SuperCuts, or whether or not you're wearing make up.  The things babies and young kids need can't be bought.

Believe me.  They will turn into teenagers and turn into fashion fascists.  That's when you need the $$$$$$