Sometimes I Make Life So Hard...

Okay, so I was cleaning up one of the many piles of crap in our bedroom (I know. Crazy isn't it. Me...cleaning!) when I came across a large stack of greeting cards I'd received for various numbered birthdays and anniversaries.

I have friends with well-honed senses of humor. Honestly they would not be my friends otherwise. It was great fun sifting through this plethora of paper. It's funny what people associate you with. Drinking in abundance, be it wine or margaritas, is a big theme amongst numerous birthday greetings, as well as my love for acquiring footwear. Apparently when my birthday roles around each year, my family and friends share this philosophy: Marie + birthday = booze and shoes. Oh and let's not forget the delightful double entendre, 12-year-old boy humor.

Yes. My friends know me very well.

My bud, Jude's cards always make me laugh and cry. She writes such straight-from-the-heart, sincere sentiments. Sweet and genuine "I love you, Man" moments. Beets and Suzette fluctuate between full-on absurdity and heartfelt, with a side of sarcasm.

Howard however wins the trophy for most outrageous, off-the-wall greetings. Here's a sampling:

"I looked on the Internet to find a present for you. But all I found was porn for me."

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to North Carolina. Please return your hair to its full, upright position."

"They loved their husbands, and everyone elses, too. For they were whores."

Ha Ha Ha!!

I've been able to weed out a lot of these missives, but there remains a sizable stack with which I cannot part, the majority being various greetings from the love of my life, Geo.

They are beautiful cards filled with declarations of love and devotion. Expressions of how blessed he feels to have found me. How happy and full his life is now we're together. Of walking down life's path, hand-in-hand, growing old and grey together (Okay. I'll still be a redhead).

I teared up the day I received these lovely notes. This morning they made me well up again, but for a different reason. I was filled with an overwhelming sense of sadness. Geo and I have been having a difficult time of late. The conflict stems from me. I have not been holding up my end of the relationship bargain very well lately. And by lately I mean the last six months or so. I've developed interests which have taken away precious time from our already limited day-to-day interactions. And he's angry about it. Rightly so since the time is being wasted in completely stupid and trivial ways.

For someone who yaps a lot...a LOT, I don't know how to do this communication thing very well. I don't know how to really, truly verbalize what's in my heart. I don't know what to say to convince him he is the center of my world. I am woefully inadequate when it comes to speaking about what really matters. And my actions of late are pretty unconvincing.

I don't want to fuck up my marriage. Perhaps it's time I see a therapist. For real.

Finding Geo has been the biggest blessing in my life. I don't want to lose him. He asked me why I stay with him. It's pretty simple really. He's my heart, my soul, my true North. The one who makes me laugh. The one who good naturedly executes my hair-brained schemes. The one who gives me strength and confidence to face the world. The one whose hugs heal my soul. The one person on earth who is completely and brutally honest with me, yet somehow never loses faith in me. He is my constant. He makes me want to be a better person. I'd be lost without him.

*sniff*

I hope he can forgive me. The disappointment in his eyes crushes me. He deserves a better wife.

"Do Not Follow the Ideas of Others, but learn to--Oh, I'm sorry. I need to take this call.."

or peace and harmony in the modern world

Okay, so today on our little local dog and pony morning show, we had an honest-to-goodness Buddhist Monk as a guest. He was really, REALLY cool. Calming voice, welcoming demeanor, embracing all things spiritual and corporeal without prejudice or judgement.

He came to the station dressed in his beautifully flowing orange monk's robe, signature shining bald Buddhist head and... his iPhone.

Wha?!?

Yeah. He had an iPhone. A Buddhist Monk... purveyor of peace and harmony... teacher of compassion and wisdom... gentle guide to being one with the universe...

Has an iPHONE!!?!

I don't know if it is Karma sanctioned, but I think it had an app for navigating through his past lives. Can't you just hear the commercial now:

"Say you need the quickest route to enlightenment. Yeah. We got an App for that."

"Whaddup, Dog?"

Quack Quack Quack!!

or a bonding afternoon on the three rivers

Okay, so one of the perks of working for a television station is sometimes you get free stuff. Guests will bring in samples of their wares to share, chefs cook up a plethora of delightfully tasty fare and sometimes we get a free ride.

Literally.

Today was one such day. As a thank you for being a part of our little dog and pony morning show, the Just Ducky tour boat picked us up outside our door and compted us a spin around ye olde Burgh on land and sea... okay not the sea per se, but the river. Sheesh! Don't be such a douche.

Ducky boats are throw backs to World War II. They are combo aquatic/land vehicles built by the women left behind during the 40s. Their purpose was to transport supplies, ammo and in some cases actual aircraft to the front lines--slowly... very slowly... like we're talking only 5 mph max. Being as they were expected to be riddled with bullets in war zones, the life expectancy of each brave little vessel was only 90 days.

Some 65+ years later, all spit-shined and brightly painted, they proudly march on as a tourist attraction in numerous cities. I took a similar tour in Boston a couple of years ago. They're so cute.

Wackiness is the order of the day on a Ducky tour. Both the official tour guide (Kevin) and driver/sailor (um...let's call him Roberto. sure.) tell the tale of the city's history, sprinkled with the most God-awful puns and corn ball jokes you could imagine. Everyone is required to "Quack Quack Quack" as loudly and obnoxiously as possible to strangers on the streets and shorelines.

It sounds really gay, but it is surprisingly F.U.N.!

The grooviest thing is launching in the water. Dude! You actually DRIVE INTO the water. It's the coolest thing. Seriously. This ancient water craft defies scientific logic and actually stays afloat.

Usually there are loads of kids on board and the Captain brings them all up front to steer the boat once we hit water. Being a boat load of so-called adults, Kevin had to beg for volunteers to steer. NOT!! You would not believe how quickly the hands went up. We were all "Ooo Ooo. Pick me!! Pick me!"

Alas only five would be chosen, my bud Beets being one. She was last in line and pretended to be from Ireland. It was a hoot!

It was a gorgeous, albeit bloody humid day (the first of this summer), but their was a cool breeze wafting. A great opportunity to see our fair city from water level.

The only nasty thing we encountered was the river itself.

Pretty, isn't it? There is some nasty, nasty crap floating in that water. We used to encounter all sorts of questionable things when I rowed in the summers. Fortunately, none were bodies or parts.

Okay that shirtless Dude doesn't count. Or does he? Yow!

All in all it was a great way to bond with colleagues from the dreaded "shift of the damned" and a perfect opportunity to say goodbye to one of the best group of interns we've had in a long time.

A big shout out of thanks to the Just Ducky tour folks for their generosity. The entertainment was all it's "quacked" up to be.

*groan*

Sorry. You know I had to go there.

The Real Culprit Behind The Twitter Shutdown...

The secret Twitters of Doctor Doom!

BAH! Doom's iPod stuck on "I'm Walking On Sunshine . . ." AGAIN!

about 2 days ago from Twitterriffic

That song's enough to make anyone want to blow up something. Thanks to my pal, Gary for fleshing this out.

Friday Videos #1

Okay, so my work bud, Jimmy McParkway shared these two classic, best-of-the-worst of local television spots with me today. They are hilarious. In light of the difficult events of the week, I do believe we all need a good, long hardy-har-har.

The first is a breakfast song which aired on the WTVA Tupelo Missississississississississippi mornin' show "The Kay Bain Show" way back in May of 2004. It is sung by Minister Cleo Clariet and his fiance Katherine Lane, who incidentally looks more than a bit stoned. It goes on for-E-V-E-R!!

Coincidentally, the right Reverend passed away from congenital heart disease six months later. I know! Ironic, right? No mo' bacon, indeed.

This next one is by far my favorite. A snazzy furniture huckster from I'm guessing, Montgomery doing his thang, getting his groove on, pushing the fine pleather sofas.

LOL!!!! "To the left. To the right. Let's make this..a dance. Flea Market. Montgomery. It's just like...It's just like.. a Mini...Mall." Oh YEAH!! We talking 'bout Flea Market!

OhmiGod! I love this. Me and Jimmy were doing the Flea Market Mambo all morning. This ditty is waaay too catchy. If this doesn't put a smile on your miserable mug, then you are a Cyborg.

It's in your brain now. You know you'll be singing this all day.

You're welcome.

Twitter Down for Hours!! Millions Forced to Communicate Face-to-Face!

Mayhem ensues as people are forced to actually *gasp* phone one another for social contact. Experts reeling. Could this happen to you? What you can do to prevent this atrocity from befalling you and your loved ones. We'll have tips at 11.

Yeah. Apparently people were really freaked out about this Twitter black out thing. Me...I was outside, in the company of an actual person, doing real-life things. By 5pm the "crisis" was averted and Tweeters were back on their collective electronic perches sharing details of their latest fruit smoothie.

And there was joy again in Tweetville.

In Which I Will Never Understand the Darkness in Some Men's Hearts...

Last night a 48 year old man donned his workout clothes, packed his gym bag with four firearms, walked into a dance class at his gym and shot 13 women, killing three of them.

My first thought when these horrendous events occur is, yet another boyfriend unable to accept the relationship is over and unwilling to allow another to be with "his girl". The old if-I-can't-have-her-no-one-will twisted logic which poisons the minds of too many disturbed men.

It is unclear if he had a relationship with any of the women present in that class last evening. He left a note in his bag, the contents of which have not been released by the police. He did, however, pen a manifesto online filled with red flags. These hate-filled ramblings indicate he planned to carrying out these cold-blooded killings in January, but "chickened out" at the last second. His words.

Of course no one read his diary prior to this horrifying incident. He was no one of note or notoriety. Why would anyone Google him and stumble upon his "diary". In fact, I would be surprised if anyone other than himself ever read it.

Until now.

Now everyone is reading it. Trying to figure out what would lead this relatively attractive man with a stable job and a modest home to take the lives of innocent women before turning the gun on himself. Ironic, isn't it.

Life is so light. It's like an outline.

All one can hope for is to surround oneself with those who would fill in that outline, and avoid those who would erase it. So hold your dear ones close. Tell them how much you love them. You never know if you'll have a tomorrow.

As long as I live, I will never understand the darkness in some men's hearts.