good morning cyberspace

I've been reading a humorous novel where the main character watches her life after she dies and the thought occurred to me... you are really gone when they "go through your things". What a disturbing thought; someone will look at all of the detritus of your life, all those of papers you tape to your mirror so they don't get lost, (websites, phone numbers, books to read, pictures of kids & grandkids, tickets to a show, books you loaned a friend), all the stuff in your bedside table (secret stash of Baby Ruth's), your bureau (lingerie you wore 30 yrs. ago & the granny-panties you wear now), and your books. Then your keepsakes, the things you saved forever, will be gone (the copy of Armageddon that was you dad's, his slide rule, the red Mary Jane's your little girls loved when they were 5, the stone you brought home from a visit to the camps at Dachau). That's when you know you are dead, when the forever is over.

upanddownandupanddown

ive come to accept depressions as part of my life because it seems they will always return. no medicine or dosage seems to keep them away but at least now after so many years of experience i know there will be an end to any down cycle. so now i can hold on be fierce and even angry and even function thru the bad days. the worst part is the depth of worthlessness that overwhelms... in depression there is no end to the self flagellation; the constant review of past actions that prove i am thoughtless, insensitive and stupid. how could i have.....done this, said that, thought this, behaved that way? but heres the thing---no matter what do not ever ever make a critical decision about your life during depression. wait til the beast turns his back to rest before you make changes. even a conversation that seems necessary can be deadly now, so learn this if nothing else... wait it out oh please wait it out or you will never know if it was the beast talking or really, really, you. keep tight to who you are hold on for dear life and dont let the beast find you he will sleep i promise then you can do your life but do not share life with the beast.

Best Chocolate Cake

Best Chocolate Cake Ever

From JoeAnne at the library:

Cake:
One box any kind of chocolate cake mix
One can cherry pie filling
2 eggs
mix and bake according to cake directions

Icing:
5 tbs. butter
1/3 cup milk
1 c sugar
bring to boil and add 7oz. pkg of chocolate chips

Sex and Marriage

Do you know about the three stages of sex in marriage?

Stage one is when you do it in every room of the house.

Stage two is when you do it in your bed.

Stage three is when you pass in the hallway and say f@&# you!

MEAN Teachers

Something’s been on my mind lately... MEAN teachers. You never forget them.

In the third grade I had a lady teacher who scared all of us little kids. She wore fitted knit dresses with nylon stockings and high heels. She stood very straight LIKE she was a general and her pointy breasts STUCK out. She would stand at the front of the room giving back the spelling tests or homework and if your paper was NOT neat enough, she would throw it on the floor and you would have to pick it up. I can still recall the rush of FEAR when my name was called.

YEARS later, at the Catholic GIRLS high school I attended, we had to take LATIN for two years. The NUN who taught it had a bad LISP and I couldn’t understand her in English, much less LATIN. I really struggled with my homework and she would make me stand up EVERY day to humiliate me. She said I was a perfect example of a student who did NOT study.
One a day we had a big TEST scheduled and I was REALLY sick. I begged my mom to let me go to school because I knew this nun would think I was FAKING. Latin was the first class of the day. I sat in one of the front desks. By the third question I knew I was going to BARF. I stood UP and when she rushed over to reprimand me, I vomited on the floor at her feet, splashing CHUNKS all over her black robe-thing. Guess what? She never humiliated me again, and for SOME reason, for the next TWO years I always passed my Latin tests with at least a C grade. Guess even NUNS have a conscience, huh?

Another nun at that same school creeped me out. She SNEAKED around like Rowling’s SNAPE, appearing around corners without warning, trying to catch you in the ACT, of talking or laughing, activities FORBIDDEN in her presence. She always kept her classroom cold, like a CRYPT, and she only smiled when someone got punished. Once she gave me a D on a short story I spent a lot of time writing. She said she didn’t get the point of the story. Duh, I thought, I'm imitating HEMINGWAY.

What are YOUR mean teacher MEMORIES??