Our 5' 11" Army

We may not have the absolute biggest men (I don't know the score on the women yet) in our United States Army, but we "Sure as Shootin'" have the most consistent Army out there, with all of our men showing up on paper as being 5'11" tall and weighing 200 pounds. Yes, this is one of those military phenomenons I'm afraid - I have done my research folks, and it seems to be overwhelmingly true that nearly every man in the Army that I've interviewed has some sort of an I.D. card, registration, form, or record indicating that he stands 5'11" and that he weighs 200 pounds.

 The gig was up when I read my own son's paperwork the other day. I was surprised that my 6'1" son could be shortened with just over one year in the service, but it's true. He stands 5'11" according to his official documents. I began blogging and talking about this fact and to my great surprise I found that hundreds of men were willing to write to me and state that they too are 5'11" tall, some of which are shorter than I am at 5'7". I found this to be hilarious. I don't know about you, but I thought this was funny. 

 I arrived at the University of Central Oklahoma's Chambers Library. I was standing on the 4th floor when a soldier who appeared to be about my height came up to me and asked if I was the lady with "the dog". I explained to him that most people own dogs. He smiled and said "OK, do you own Sgt. Faith?" I answered him in the affirmative with a smile of my own. He took a step forward and whispered in my ear "Don't tell anyone I told you this, but I'm not really 5'11" and I don't weigh 200 pounds." I asked him if he had read my blog, because it was a strange thing to just come out and admit to someone. He said he had, and that his own mother had been bragging to everyone she knew that her son had grown several inches and that her home cooking wasn't good enough to pack on his pounds, but the Army's slop was. He then stated that the slop was actually rather good in his unit. My son concurs with the food he receives in Alaska, but we've always said that with Reuben it wasn't the quality of the food, but the quantity. 

 So, there you have it folks! Your United States Army, because jobs require certain heights to perform, have altered and manipulated our boys - but I don't mind. It would be rather humorous though to find out whether or not every women in the Army is 5'5" or not because Spc. Laura Bigenho could use the extra inches on her part, and her lover Levering could use the downgrade from his 6'4" frame to 5'11" so as not to make such a spectacle of themselves when they kiss in public (in uniform no doubt, in front of GOD and everyone!) We have the most talented, skilled, trained, and now consistently heighted men in the world in our Army.....we are unstoppable! Well, then again, if I think about it, on the gridiron there are times when a quarterback from West Pointe could stand to be a little taller, and the offensive lineman a bit heavier...well, I guess it all looks good on paper! Hoorah!

Happy Happy! Joy Joy!

How amazing is this! I put the word "Happy" into the locator bar at Google and clickd on images. This guy pops up! He's (I say he) the most adorable thing I've seen all day. Joy radiates from him. He's on the beach, he's got no clothes on, he's just as happy and fulfilled as anything I have ever imagined. Truly, the epitome of joy - whoever you are that thought about this picture, thank you. It certainly made my morning.

Speaking of morning, I woke up and took the dogs out like I do every morning and there was a cool breeze - fall is on it's way. We used to say that fall in Oklahoma began precisely at 12:00 p.m. on September 17, whatever the year would be. This September 17 was 89 degrees and sunny, but today, the 23rd seems to be a bit more open to suggestion. What I wouldn't give to have a real beach in Oklahoma. This happy guy and I could spend the entire day thinking about all the people we love and enjoy. I'd take off my shoes and let that sand just work it's magic as it erased the feelings of work and business right out of me. Work for me is great actually, I show up and play all day both on the internet and on the phone - talking to people about their insurance needs. That's going to change soon when I spend all day playing both on the internet and on stage, talking to people about the love, hope, joy, peace, and faith they may be looking for. Can't wait!

Well, I just wanted to send you guys a little happy today...just as much as you can take. ALL DAY LONG!!!

Wikipedia QUEENS

I have been falling out of my chair laughing at the QUEENS of Wikipedia who have been arguing with who they assume is me (someone using my user name I suppose) over whether or not to leave a small linked article on their site at www.wikipedia.com and I suppose again, that you would to use the search locator to type in my name to see the article in question. The fact is, I was a teacher in the hood. Someone, one of my students probably is literally arguing with the administrators of Wikipedia as to their rules and regulations of adding links and/or notable characters on Wikipedia. Whatever.

My dog Faith is listed on Wikipedia, and I was listed as a link. No more. Just a link. I suppose because someone I love or taught felt it necessary to add me. Thank you to whomever you are - I may be able to guess from the language used online. I hope my babies don't actually offend. I did take the time to look up what the Wiki people are saying, there seems to be a genuine concern on their part to try and keep those mentioned in articles true and honest, but for any one of the administrators to think that they have a right to claim who is notable and who is not is sheer arrogance. That would be like me saying that this artist isn't an artist at all because I don't like rap music, or I don't like skateboarding, so this guy can't be creative with his board - it's all up to me! Wow, I'm glad I didn't have to choose which of these administrators was talented enough to be an administrator. I don't think (maybe I'm wrong) that Wikipedia is a for-profit organization. From what I can tell it's just a cool factual place to go to see what is and what isn't regarding any one topic.

The fact that I was contacted four years ago when Faith became popular is awesome. We have enjoyed her stay on Wikipedia, but to be honest it doesn't make or break her abilities to be presented in public, or to be beneficial to anyone. She does that on her own, or rather with God's help. So, I guess I'm flattered that my students would go to bat for me certainly. I have always had their backs - but to fight for this position is almost moot - I know who I am. I don't need Wikipedia to validate my existance, my skills, training, career, or my success - I'll leave that up to the experts: People who have loved me. Thank you, each and every one of you. Now, go read something or you'll owe me 5 pages on Shakespeare by Monday! (Double-spaced, Helvetica 12 pt. with 3 references and at least 16 nouns per paragraph.)

To Carlos of Wikipedia: Maybe someday you'll be notable enough to be deleted from Wikipedia.

One Year Ago Today!

September 21, 2006 was the day I remember as being the day I was forced to give away my son. I can somewhat understand how a father feels now, when he is asked to give his daughter away at the alter when she marries. My son was marrying the United States Army, and with a contract just over three years, his union will actually outlast some of the agreements made between husbands and wives down at the courthouse. The weather on September 21, 2006 reflected my spirit - it rained. I remember thinking the angels were crying right along with me while my Baby Boy stepped up to the podium to pose for the fake swearing in pictures that they do for those who have parents in the room. There were actually only two parents in the room and over 25 swearing in. That fact has hurt me, and has torn at my heart now for exactly one year.

 Today my heart is healing from the separation I felt when my son kissed me, saluted me, and promised me he would protect me and my girls from any and all perils as long as he had breath in his body to do so. He is my hero. Today, the sun shines clearly and brightly, my soul rejoices from knowing that Reuben is protected, he has been making good choices, and he has become a man like no other man I could have hoped to have raised. What a difference one year makes. He went from being the star footballer on the high school team to becoming one of many many men and women who will probably remain nameless to so many, all dressed similarly for a reason, wearing dusty green and brown ACUs, caps, boots, and that beautiful American flag flying on his right bicep. Only his name strip, badge, and rank separate him from every other member in the Force. But I know who he is. He is my son.

 Funny, one year ago my son stood 6'1" and weighed about 230 pounds. He was green eyed, blond, and wore the smile that he has carried from the day he was born. Today, on paper, my son is 5'11" and about 190. He has brown hair and hazel eyes. I don't know how they did it, but the United States Army has severely altered my son's appearance. Something about being too tall for the tank he drives, but why change the color of his eyes? I guess someone wasn't gazing into them like a mom does, trying to see whether or not he's telling the full truth. Hazel's OK...I can live with that as long as they bring back all 6'1" of him in about 2 years and 4 months when the gig is up. Of course, he'll be signing up for the National Guard at that point....going to college, getting the teacher's certificate, teaching History, coaching football, barbequing in the backyard, and constantly making plans for protecting us, and maybe his own family at that point. In one year's time my life has changed - progress is good.

Jamacian Blue Mountain Coffee, Thanks!

You know me. You know I have an addiction to a couple of things, one will go unspoken, the other is Starbucks coffee. I have been for years, one of the most dedicated and volunatarily devoted addicts of the brown serum in the white ornamental cup. I have been asked to drink other coffees, I have been given other brands for gifts. I usually end up regifting at that point - one very very inconsiderate friend of mine, because she's mean, vicious,and uncaring, gave me a gift certificate for Seattles Best online. Please! She was really only wanting the coffee for herself, knowing full well that I would refuse her token and smile with that pyrate smile I give to people when we both know they've been trying to dupe me.

However, and this is big, I was blessed and amazed to receive a cup of truly incredible coffee - that wasn't from Starbucks. It was from a company that I won't credit, as I have been too loyal to the mermaid to do that; but it was soooo good, and soooo smooth, that I literally drank four cups of coffee this morning without a twinge of guilt. If I were Catholic I wouldn't have felt badly, that's how great this coffee is. What now? What will I do? It's what I did already that counts. I immediately, upon setting the cup down and forcing myself to walk away from the empty pot still blowing steam at me - and I ordered two pounds of the beans on Ebay. I know, I could have gone to the actual site, but they charge too much. If you go online and login to Ebay you have a great chance that someone out there selling this stuff either misspelled Jamacian, or they don't realize the market value. I got my two pound bag for $16.00 + shipping. I am awaiting Heaven to descend.

So....will I ever be able to look the watered princess in the eyes while she swims around my cup and calls to me in her steamy siren voice - yes. I will. Not today. I have another three or four pots left from the beans my friend gave me. I love this guy - he's the coffee pimp. I need a coffee pimp - I've been going it on my own for too long. Communing with like-characters is good for me. I find myself digging into the great and wonderous brains of people who have either complained as I have, praised as I have, believed as I have, or desire as I do. This can't be perfect, but it is working out for me. If I thought I was confident before, look out!

Land of Soy and Honey, Honey!

I was caught off guard today when my little white-haired brat child grabbed my cup of Starbucks and threatened to pitch it in the sink if I admitted that the white liquid mixed with the pumpkin spice and coffee was (how dare I) milk. It wasn't, it was soy. She and I have been drinking soy-milk for quite some time now, but she was all up in arms about me straying from the pact we made. She just KNEW I was cheating. I wasn't. I know where my milk belongs - in the cow, thank you. Laura, on the other hand snoffed at us both and drank from the cardboard carton which is now 100% hers to enjoy - Caity and I do the other, let satisfying, less damning liquid that actually stays preserved 10x longer than milk - have you noticed that?

So, what about this soy stuff anyway? I was all but floored when I was told by the Akins grocery bums that most Asian women don't suffer the problems, pains, and tortures of pre, post, or regular menopause because of their soy intake. We Americans get most of our protein from animals and well, the rest of the world seems to get a better health score now, don't they? Come to think of it, now that I've given up on hamburgers (damn it) and milk (damn it again) I do actually feel better. I move better, I'm not as fat, I'm able to breath deeper, and HEY.... that's not fair! I was hoping to be like my grandparents and live to age 90 something with the benefits of having eaten all the beef, potatoes, gravy, and bacon that I wanted to. What happened? Who took my sugar away and gave me honey? Oh yeah, the hippy I live with.

Honey, it turns out is good for more than just dressing up peanut butter. The English have always used it in their tea, but that's actually not the best way to a better more healthier you. I'm told by the EXPERTS (grocers again, people who stand around all day helping unsuspecting health-dummies like me) that honey on the spoon or by the bulk is great for raising antioxidant, lowering blood sugar, and all sorts of things, but they're quick to add that a baby under the age of 2 could die if they eat it - gag reflex or something. Please...that's freaking scary! I actually used honey in an entirely different way actually - used to heat it up with whiskey and lemon for the heck of it and tell everyone I had a sore throat - I guess I watched a bit too much TV as a kid and got to the point that I related to Granny of the Beverly Hillbillies; she lived for her "medicine". I just did it every now and then when I could get away with hiding lemons in my house. My kids hate whiskey.

Before long everything in my house will still have a little dirt on it from being plucked out of the ground. I don't have to tell you that we routinely wash our eggs before using them, but I make Caity break them for fear that a little undeveloped chick may be inside of one. She's not into store bought eggs either anymore. I swear, I should never have lent her my fringed coat and Steppenwolf LPs. She takes this flower power thing to the hilt at times...then again, I do feel better. I sleep better, I eat all day long and never gain weight - not eating actual calories will do that to you. The juice in my house is from the fruit(s). The oats are raw, the peanuts too, and if you look really hard you can spot the real sugar - but Laura slaps my hand when I reach for it...gatekeeper.

I Have the STRANGEST Children

Laura comes up to me and thrusts a camera at me, she says "Hey, come outside and take my picture, I'm going to post it on an anime site." Then she told me what site, and what character she is suppose to be. OK. I can do that. I go out and take a few strangely unusual shots before asking more questions that I really couldn't begin to understand the answers to. They all had something to do with shows I had never heard of, but apparently are rather popular.

So, the next day, not even 24 hours after she's posing in the rain like this - she and Caity are duct taping their breasts and butts so they can dress as boys and hit the mall trying to pick up their own female friends to see if they get recognized. I don't actually think it would work - they can't change their appearance really any more than they can change their voices to match those of 17 and 18 year old young men whose change has already taken place; that's not the point they tell me, I'm just suppose to be the cameraman...woman...whatever.

After they fail at their adventure they managed to undress themselves to reveal tape recorders and then they listened to their antics and the screaming from their friends who knew who they were and just went along with it for fun. When did being so weird get popular? Anyway, the next day or so, maybe a few days later, Laura decides to put 3 foot extensions in her hair and do the naked lady on the horse shot, but she can't get completely naked like Caity, who doesn't need a reason or a disguise to do it - Laura just ran around the house blushing every which way, and then gave up the project for an ice cream eating contest with her tiny little sister who eats (sometimes) as much as her BIG brother on a weekend. Laura lost - Caity's face was covered in ice cream from diving into it in order to win, the girl will not be beat at any competition even if she has no interest in the competition itself, she won't be beat.

Finally, one last thought on the girls before I leave you to pray for my sanity. I caught them both dancing and pretending to be rappers in the bathroom with the boombox blaring, their oversized clothes flopping around and then I heard one of them falling to the ground shrieking in laughter - she'd lost her footing while two-stepping, which by the way isn't a country-western step anylonger, it's a grunge thing - and she toppled over onto the door - neighbors were concerned. All was well, the dynamic duo have decided to give it a rest for a little bit, not knowing exactly what they're going as for the seven (7) different Halloween parties they've been invited to, but they do know what they're dressing up as for the one they are hosting. My little girls are actually going as each other. Laura as Caity, and Caity as Laura - see who can out insult the other!

Thank GOD for little boys. My son is dressing up as a Private First Class Soldier in the United States Army this year. Last year he went as a regular Private. Congrats my darling! You wear it well.

I Simply Must Stop Laughing!

Look at these lines on my face! They only show up when I'm happy.

I have to stop laughing immediately. Quickly, someone please remind me of what my life was like when I was married and the kids were growing up - No, thanks again - I'll take the smiles, the lines, the peace....well, there isn't all that much peace when you share a little place with two teenage girls who are either kissing or killing each other every minute of the day.

Presently they are happy with each other. That could change the second a boy walks into the club they're dancing in and says hi to just one of them. Cats don't sound off as loudly as my girls when they disagree - and you've heard cats going at it.

The thing about laughing and getting all wrinkly and line-infested is that each one of my lines could probably stand up and tell a story about how they came to rest so securely in my face. I taught in the hood for five years - I'm surprised my hair isn't gray, my teeth punched out, and the lines even deeper - but not from laughing. I cried as often as I grinned when I taught, believe me. Maybe those lines could tell you something about working cases for Mr. Moler and developing my own unique perspective of the laws of my state while I simultaneously upheld them myself to see them being abused in court when it came time to hold the judge accountable. Here I was working for a lawyer that was upstanding every single time, but the judge in my custody case obviously didn't learn the same law(s) that Mr. Moler practiced - she changed them at her own will and whim - the lines from those events run sideways across the top of my head I think....maybe in time they'll be covered by the more dominate and more satisfying humor huggers that fine and find me on a yearly basis. I do pray they do.

My girls are all but grown now - years of work, pushing, pulling, dragging, kicking, clawing, and screaming at the air to get that accomplished. To tell the truth, I use a great deal of those experiences in my comedy routines because parents of teens understand me. From stage I see a mom reach over and squeeze the hand of her eye-rolling 15 year old daughter, and I know she knows what I know. The daughter gets it too, but she's not going to let mom see her grin - later in the room on the phone with her friend the relative story gets told in giggles and screeching over cells and soda. ("She was soooo talking about me, I know it.")

Well - ENOUGH with the craters showing up on my face already, go to my knees or something, at least I can bend them and make them look like they're suppose to go away - from time to time I stand in front of the mirror and pull my cheekbones up, or my forehead - just to see what I would look like with a flatter more youthful face - Like Laura...and I smile again. Defeating the purpose, but satisfying the heart.

Who Knew That Garlic Could Do THAT?

I am always (and I mean always) amazed at what the natural remedy warriors tell me when I seek their advice at a natural foods store. I'm one of those people who for whatever reason just never listened to the holistic points of view - I always shopped for my pharmaceuticals in the store's pharmacy section. This diet that I'm working through (not ON, but actually doing) is amazingly simple and I am constantly stuffing my face. I eat more now than I ever did, but what I'm eating is healing me inside rather than hurting me both internally and therefore externally. I'm losing weight of course, shaping up, and getting the body to do what the soul and spirit have been doing for months - to work as a team.

I recently went to Akins and asked the gurus in the grocery section what to do for a toothache. I didn't have one, but a friend did, and she ONLY used home remedies. My friend had mistakenly told me to pick up fresh garlic for her - I thought maybe she wanted to ward off the evil spirits of pain or men, but she was serious about it being able to help heal the nerves under the gum line. She was right! The gurus confirmed her story! Not only that, but get this - it helps the libido too. Can I say libido without laughing? No. It helps you want to have sex. It actually stimulates your brain with hormone releasing enzymes that say "Hey, wake up down there, get it going, breath, let the blood flow hot and heavy and let's get laid tonight!" That wasn't me talking, mind you, that was the effect that garlic has on one's brain. I don't think you have to have a toothache to take the stuff either - some people cook with it! Oh, that makes sense - there's a lot of little Italians running around aren't there? Wait, Chinese food is packed with GARLIC! Oh, this is actually making a lot more sense as I dig a bit deeper into it, huh?

Countries that use garlic tend to have children in abundance! Wow, who knew? Well, I don't want more children, that's for darn sure, but I wouldn't mind a little loving from time to time - when I'm in love - when and if that happens - now all I have to do is find a natural herb or vegetable to flatten my belly, reduce the size of my breasts, remove the hair in strange places, take off a few moles, lessen the appearance of wrinkles and crow's feet - and maybe a juice or fruit to take care of a spider vein here and there....maybe if I just rub garlic all over my body. It destroys bad breath you know...maybe it can take off the cellulite, restore my youth, and give me a reason to take up Flamenco dancing!

I guess I couldn't date a vampire, but Italians are OK, right?

There was This Man - In a White Hat

One afternoon sometime in late April 1999, I was skimming through the WANT ads on the internet for fun. By WANT ads I mean personals. Men who wanted a relationship - I guess with someone like me, a woman who was looking for a man who wanted a relationship. Actually, truth be known, I was doing what a lot of men do - window shopping. I had no intention of actually stepping over the line and introducing myself. I was just looking - looking can be more fun at times because you can make up little stories about the people in the pictures - makes it seem a bit more mysterious, perhaps even more interesting than the truth at times.

There he was. Just smiling a little thin smile from under a white cotton fedora - courting a salmon pink shirt, all muscled up, tanned, and pretty - laying back on the plastic strips of a lounge chair somewhere on a beach somewhere in a world somewhere other than the reality of my dull and boring world. He was certainly pretty - and his name was Clark. Clark, the man in the white hat. Clark, the man in the pink shirt. Clark, the man in my dreams for the next 18 months or so - and by dreams I mean dreams - vivid and lucid dreams with cloudless days, beaches that run forever, and palm trees without falling coconuts - just palms - and me with Clark. The reason the dreams continued for 18 months wasn't merely because the little photo of the man was THAT great - we actually became friends online.

I remember being disappointed to find out that his real name wasn't Clark - well, his middle name was, but he was a DAVID and that upset me because of my ex. Clark seemed like such a new and exciting name - to go with a new and extremely exciting man, daring in his voiced adventures, creative and stylish to boot - in fact, month after month passed with us on the phone with each other much more often than the hours we'd spend online chatting. Our phone calls lasted endlessly into the night, and I remember feeling absolutely floatatious with this man. He could lift my spirits, tweak my heart, and literally sent love beams searing through my soul - with just a whispered laugh. The man actually giggled at times - which made me tingle.

So what happened? I'm not sure. Oh, I can guarantee you that I slipped up. I said or did something that probably scared the devil out of this flirtatious and genuinely charming man. I probably threatened or intimidated him, making him feel less detached and more obligated to a relationship that was truly immaterial, intangible, distant, something not based on reality or touch since we seriously had never met....it never really ended - it just stopped. Gone, nothing more. At first I created an excuse - made something up to make myself feel better. My emotions ran the gambit of how-could-I, and that-was-stupid-Jude feelings - but then I became angry, perhaps grieving the loss of not only a friend but a dear friend - a true friend.

Well, time has healed me. Time has helped me to better understand not only the currents that run underneath relationships, but the reasons we even establish said relationships. I wasn't the least bit ready for a real boyfriend, what Clark (David) and I had was all fantasy - but it was indeed a fantastic adventure at times for both of us. What brings me to this blog? Why now? What could possibly have occurred to make me think of the man I once referred to in code as "The one I wish I knew"? His birthday actually, no it isn't today. His birthday is March 15, a day of infamy actually in the literary world. My good friend Niki's son asked me a question today - he knew his mom would make him look up the answer online and he didn't want to take the time to do something he could ask me to answer for him I guess. Eric asked me "Hey, what happened on March 15 that made all the difference to the world at some point and time in history? I gotta know for English."

What happened? Well, a man was born - he turned my heart upside down, and then he went away - but something tells me that Eric was more or less unimpressed with my immediate answer and sought something more along the lines of Julius Caesar's assassination. I, on the other hand was completely untouched by the brutality of that day, and completely blown away by the man in the white hat. To be so again - is that asking too much?