AND THE WINNER OF $50 Powercard For Dave and Buster's IS?

The Contest
is
OVER

14entries collected
+0left to earn

$50 Power Card For Plymouth Mtg or Franklin Mills

And the winner is...
results powered by Random.org
Entry #12Delcopa M.

Reality And Fairies In The Garden

Photo courtesy of Cloudcentrics

Was there a time in your life when reality hurt? When you'd rather talk to 'imaginary people' than to real ones?  Would you go back in time and make some changes?  Would I want to revisit my life in middle school, high school, college? And if I did what would I do differently? Wow, that's a tough one. Would I even want to go back and face those dragons again? Would I be any smarter this time around?

Maybe. Maybe I'd go back and work harder on my self-esteem issues. (Wow do we all have those issues as kids?) Yeah, I know, you never knew I had them...<G> I mean, I'm a world famous (ROFLMAO) blogger...but even for me, high school was a tough time. I fit in everywhere and nowhere. I was part of the in crowd and part of the dorks. I never quite found the place that really FIT. Looking back I realize I probably did 'fit'--we were all in the same boat, some of us just hid it better than others.

Did my grammar and high school days blight my life? No, but it sure would have been easier if I'd learned a few lessons sooner rather than later!

See I've always had a hard time with reality. Reality sucks. I mean really, reality isn't nearly as much fun as the life I live in my imagination (of course I have an active imagination!)  I would far rather play with the fairies that live at the bottom of the garden than go to work. But fairies, well as a grown up you start to realize they don't pay your bills. As a grown up there are a lot of times I'd rather talk to the people in my imagination than deal with REAL people. I mean, real people just aren't as much FUN! Real people have problems! REAL problems. Real people cop attitudes. They're difficult. They have jobs, responsibilities, families. And unfortunately few of us take the time to smell the roses or examine beauty of a single rose petal or a tiny violet or talk to the silver fairy who lives in her tiny dew drop house at the end of the garden.

As a child I never understood why when a teacher said whoever got the highest grade on the history test could be Abe Lincoln in the fifth grade play why she wouldn't let me do it. I got the highest grade. She let the BOY with the highest grade be Abe. She actually said 'you're a girl, you can't be president.' I'm still ticked off about that today! The reality was in Mrs. K's world women WEREN'T presidents or prime ministers or other people with power.  Thank goodness it's changed somewhat now.  But if I ever run into Mrs. K. I'll tell her just how much she ruined my psyche! I think that was the day she turned me into a mini-Gloria Steinem.

I think if I went back in time I'd like to learn to choose more wisely. Not to overestimate my abilities, but not underestimate them either. And I think I'd focus on being more assertive. I mean there are some things I'd need a brain transplant to change...face it, I'm never going to be able to master geometry and other advance math. It's just NOT my thing. The brain I have doesn't work that way. But I think I'd stop trying to do the tasks that are impossible, be more realistic. But still stretch myself. But would I want to give up the part of me that LIKES talking to the fairies or the people in the stories in my imagination. I don't think so. Would I want to give up the person who tortured her children by rewriting all the books as we sat and read each night? Or who made up whole stories just for them? No, I don't think so, but who knows what they'd say!

Photo from Garden Stew

OK, let's make one thing clear, it's not that I'm so far gone I think any of these fairies or imaginary people are real, or that I actually think I'm really talking to them. No, I just like the parallel universe I can create by storytelling. So blogging is a happy medium. It lets me tell the stories of my life while living in a real world. Perfect way to blend the two.   I guess that make the people I'm talking to fairies...that would be YOU!

How My Husband Got Religion At Kohl's

St. Andrew's Church photo courtesy of Lemax

Every Christmas my husband, just once, gets himself to our church, St. Andrews in Drexel Hill.  Yes church... it's hard to get him up and moving, he's not a terribly religious person nor does he like getting up in the morning.  So church is not high on his list of priorities.  But this Christmas my husband got religion.  I have to admit he's the last person I ever thought would be 'born again.'   But this Christmas season he got religion at Kohl's. 

Photo courtesy of Lemax

Yes, I know... I hear you saying to yourself, Kohl's? The Store? The one where I bought my kids boots and a new mixer? Yes THAT Kohl's. It seems it's not safe to send my husband into Kohl's or the hardware store. Now he has a new collection, but this time it's not houses, it's churches. LEMAX Churches. Not just one you understand, not just two, no he now is the proud owner of THREE churches. One has a gleaming gold cross on the steeple with his own personal minister out front. 

He found his very own St. Andrew's Church on the shelves of Kohl's.  It lights up and is decorated for Christmas, so now he has his own excuse to stay home from Christmas morning mass! Of course I threatened him with blaring hymns for him to listen to while I was at church and recording the sermon for him to listen to later.  Yes, Christmas morning mass is nothing like it used to be. 

Photo courtesy of Lemax

So now my husband doesn't even have to leave home to get religion.  Now he has his choice of three different churches in our living room.  Not quite the same as when my daughters decided to become Baptists (they go to church, real church).  Somehow I doubt their old pastor would be as upset over that as my husband's new religion.  The religion of "plugging in and sleeping in."  He lights up his churches and proceeds to catch another 40 winks.  Somehow I can't quite justify it... I'm still going to old fashioned church.  Some things never change!

Parisian Squirrels--Even Ride Bikes With Style

Video Courtesy of American Airlines on YouTube.com

Have you ever noticed that squirrels seem to mimic their human counterparts?  Just compare the chic French squirrels seen in the video above with their boring and sometimes tacky counterparts in  Philadelphia. 

It seems Parisian squirrels have a bit more style than their American counterparts, at least the ones where I live in Philadelphia. In Paris they have RED squirrels.  Not gray and boring Philadelphia squirrels!  Have you ever seen a Philadelphia, or worse yet, a JERSEY squirrel with a sense of style?  All the squirrels I see look like they've been in a rumble with between the Sharks and the Jets. Tails scraggly, fur ripped off.  I'm not sure what these squirrels do in their spare time but it certainly isn't anything as cosmopolitan as enjoying macarons at their local bistro. Jersey squirrels are just as bad.  I mean have you SEEN those people on Jersey Shore?  Obviously the squirrels take after their human counterparts--totally lacking in style.  Imagine what the squirrels would look like if they'd filmed this ad in Philadelphia. Down in South Philly they'd mimic their human counterparts and would be wearing 'wife beaters' or in Center City the females dressed in 'center city chic' -- a bizarre combination of huge gold necklaces, skirts too short, too tight, gold earrings too big, a lot of flash, weaves, but nothing resembling Parisian style. I don't know what to call most fashion in Philly but it sure isn't stylish! This isn't to say Philadelphia doesn't have some fashionistas but most of Philadelphia is clueless in the fashion department. Which is why American Airlines made their ad shown above in Paris. 

Here we have gray squirrels...boring creatures, annoying rodents, rat-like but with wider tails.  But in Paris! Oh yes! In Paris the squirrels ride bikes in jaunty berets or Velibs and scooters to cruise around the gridlock of traffic on their way to work or to play.  Their fur is sleek.  Almost as though they've just been to the squirrel spa. Even on their way to work they look like they're anticipating a day of play. I mean they LOOK like wherever they're going, whatever they're going to be doing it's going to be fun. 

Philly squirrels look like their human counterparts, headed to the Tastycake factory for another day cranking out mass produced cupcakes and pies for the already obese population to consume.  (Thank goodness the video wasn't made in Philadelphia!)  Unlike their Parisian counterparts who would be at their local bistro enjoying croissants and macarons.  Or Philadelphia squirrels might be on their way to the famous Pat's Steaks to serve up (or consume) another day's worth of grease with a side of meat.  And if you ever tried to park a bike in Philadelphia it would be history a few minutes after you walked away. 

Yes, Philly Squirrels lack style.  They have no panache.  They have no je ne sais quoi.  Which is why American Airlines made an ad in Paris not Philadelphia!  Lesson learned! Style counts. Take note Philadelphia squirrel population!

Not Your Usual Babe In A Manger

The Christmas story.  Baby Jesus, in the manger, surrounded by his loving parents Mary and Joseph, some Wise Men, and some sheep, donkeys, angels watching over them all.  Traditional Christmas story, we all know it.  But for two men I know the Christmas story this year may be about fostering a child who needs them.  A different take on the usual tale, but poignant all the same. 

We've all heard about the horrors of fostercare.  It's on the news.  In the newspaper (even if you are reading it online).  Horrors make headlines.  Sad but true.  But what so infrequently make the news is the joy of a couple when they first get a child through the foster care system.  Whether it's foster to adopt or a short term emergency placement, each foster parent opens their heart and their homes to a new family member, even if it's only for short period of time. 

Friends of ours are at the edge of foster care now.  They're waiting for their first child.  You might say they're 'a little bit foster pregnant.'  (Although that might be a little tough because they're a gay couple.)  Two men.  One who teaches school, one who works in the disabled.  A caring duo excited by the prospect after years of waiting...are on the cusp of getting their first child.  The first possibility fell through.  But there's another one coming up.  The excitement is palpable.  They have a car seat in their car at all times, just in case they get an infant/toddler without notice.  Space set up in their home for a nursery that can easily be converted into a bedroom for an older child at a moment's notice.  Their hearts and minds and home are ready to become foster parents.  Not your typical 'horror story' in fact, not a horror story at all, but a story of the heart and love. 

So the next time you hear a horror story about the foster care system, think of this loving couple, and others like them who are signed up to be foster parents, all in a similar situation.  Waiting to help, to love, to care for a child who needs them.  Certainly not a horror story.  And just a little bit different than your typical Christmas story of a babe in a manger--but... a story of the heart just the same.

Danger: Braking or Swerving for Squirrels May Be Hazardous For Your Health

(BUT NOT FOR SQUIRRELS ANYMORE!)

Live in the northern United States? Then you know squirrels are everywhere, even places they shouldn't be, like in the road playing a game I call "So You Think You Can Turn Me Into Roadkill?" 

I mean here are these relatively small animals.  They see my huge car coming (at least huge in comparison to their body size.)  You'd think they'd wait for me to go by right?  Of course not.  That would be the easy way.  No they run out in front of my car where I, of the guilty conscious if I run them over, swerve to avoid them.  Or worse, actually jam on my brakes to avoid turning them into roadkill. 

Here's a warning to you squirrels!  I finally realized that as soon as I swerve I'm risking a greater chance of human accidental death not to mention my insurance rates going up.  No, from now on I'm going to trust your little squirrel brains to calculate the risk of getting run over and adjust your squirrel speed when crossing the road accordingly.  I mean even though they have tiny brains I figure they're making a lot of split second decisions while they run across the street on how to avoid getting crushed.  And when I swerve I just make them have to recalculate.  I figure I'm increasing the work for their brains by 80% or so if I swerve to avoid them.  Therefore, I'm going to slow down a little, and yes, let them run the road.  Because YES, I would have a guilty conscious if I ran the nasty varmint over.  And I REALLY don't want my car insurance going up or to cause an accident where I'm hurt or some other human is hurt. 

So OK Squirrels.  For now you've won.  You own the road.  No more swerving to avoid you which is my initial instinct.  No, I'll just slow down, listen to the guy behind me honk his horn, and grit my teeth and not make comments under my breath (because after all, my mom taught me to be ladylike and not swear.)  And I'm going to trust you to out-think me--you've been doing it your entire life--and if you've miscalculated this time, well I'm afraid you've turned yourself into roadkill!

Because really, is it worth it to get upset over it? Nope! And face it, all those squirrels out there are alive for one reason, they've figured out how to dodge all those cars they've run in front of during their life span.  So I'm going to presume they know what they're doing when they run across the street literally under my tires.  Because if they've miscalculated that badly I'm not going to risk a three car pile up or head on collision trying to out swerve the squirrel.  If I can slow down I will, but otherwise squirrel population, I'm putting you on notice, I'm not going to swerve anymore--so figure that into your little calculations in your teeny tiny squirrel brains!

Uterine Economics and Education -- 200 Years Of Challenge for Women

Women have always faced different challenges in life than men based on the simple fact that they have a uterus. Uterine economics is how reproduction and the ability to control it controls women's lives. Uterine economics and a woman's education are the two most important issues affecting the lives of women--as much today as 200+ years ago. Some things haven't changed.

Living near Philadelphia has given me a strong sense of the history of our nation and the place of women in it. Has the challenge of being female in America changed since the Declaration of Independence was written? Or are women still facing the same issues for the same reasons?

Historically two things have had the greatest impact on the lives of women--our ability to control reproduction and our ability to get a good education. These two things still have the biggest impact on the lives of women in America, even in 2011. How is it that even after 200+ years we are still fighting the same battles? Opportunities for education have improved for some of us, but not for all. Reproductive control is possible but it is not always an option depending on our economic class, access to insurance or the knowledge and understanding of where to obtain it and how to use birth control properly.

Benjamin Franklin's sister, Jane Mecom, was a prolific correspondent, who often wrote to her famous brother. Her letters, known as "Poor Jane's Almanac," tell us about the life of a woman living a very different life than her famous brother, Benjamin Franklin. While Ben cavorted in the courts of Europe representing the government of the United States, Jane didn't travel the world or become famous as a signer of the Declaration of Independence. Instead Jane's life was a constant struggle to survive a life of poverty. While Ben was able to struggle out of poverty to become one of the most influential people of his time, Jane's life was far different. What did Jane do? Jane was married at 15 (I shudder to think what my life would have been like if I'd married at that age!). She proceeded to have 12 children, and sadly buried 11. It is widely believed her husband and two of her sons went mad--a unenviable diagnosis in that time period. Poor Jane struggled just to make ends meet, feed her family and try to survive a life of what must have felt like grinding poverty and incredible stressors.

A woman's ability to escape poverty is directly related to her ability to control reproduction (something some in our government seem determined to take away from us even today.) This coupled with our chance to get a good education, which is related to our socioeconomic class means that even more than 200 years after Jane Meacom wrote her famous letters to Ben, women are still facing inequality, much of which is based on uterine economics. The times as well as her circumstances kept Jane from getting the education she desired, though when she wrote in confidence to her brother, "I Read as much as I Dare” my heart broke for her.

"I Read as much as I Dare." Poor Jane! I cannot imagine a world where I only 'read as much as I dare.' But then I am blessed to live in a time when women have the ability to control the size of their families and can receive an education comparable to that of men (at least if we're lucky). I live in a world where I can read a dozen books at once without even leaving home -- thanks to my Kindle. Or get a college education online (presuming I can afford to pay for it). Poor Jane didn't even have a Kindle so she could read at night after a long day taking care of a huge family and a crazy husband.

Today, I am more fortunate than Jane, although not all women are. What my socioeconomic class (and technology) gave me was CHOICE. But I also recognized how fortunate I have been to have the opportunities to make decisions. Unlike Jane Meacom and the other women of the 1700s, I had a choice and those choices, both good and bad, were mine to make.

But one thing is clear to me. Even today, while we may have, 'come a long way baby' women's lives are still controlled by their ability to control their reproductive lives and to get a good education. These two things remain much the same for us today as they were for women in the 1700s. Not all women, even my contemporaries or their daughters all have that choice. It's still all about education and uterine economics.