I SAID IT OUT LOUD

Barbara Ward-Finneran

It wasn't long ago when smiles reigned on my face and I was consistently a sparkling eyed, the glass is half full kind of girl. I can't put my finger exactly on when, and certainly there's no date to circle, but somewhere on the way to my mid- life, despite my mostly happy existence, the milk spoiled.

That sour liquid has slid across the counter, dripped onto the floor - and I'd like to cry. But in the chaos of everyday life one would need to schedule time for a good cry. The tears must wait. Everything "important" can't be postponed, put off or pushed aside. In a moment like that the voice inside my head screams, "When did you lose control of your life?!" It echos into every fiber of my being. I knew I'd had enough.

The resurrection coincides with passing the sign stating "forty this way". Time to reclaim the path less chosen. Find the girl who felt alive when chasing a dream. Who would wear red opened toe FMP's just because, damn, they look good! The dulled eyed refection in the mirror rooted in practicality and reality - be gone. Ironically my life was good; loving husband, beautiful kids, a nice home and a decent job, (economic wage freezes and pay cuts aside of course). Yet, done with each today being a rerun of yesterday. Time to rescue my twenty-something optimism. "I want more, and only I can make that happen." There, I said it out loud.

Reacquainting myself with the girl who made things happen a nervousness overcame me that was exhilarating. Much like running into an old friend, those first moments being slightly awkward before slipping into the ease of familiarity.

The journey to forty seems to create questions. The jaunt to forty-something establishes the opportunity to embrace the answers. Life is a work of art in progress. Raise the bar. Envision new dreams and goals. Visualize your masterpiece and "make that happen". After all we are only half way there. Time enough to commission your own gallery show.

FInd the courage to "say it out loud".  Two years later... I'm so happy and proud that I did!

If I can do it... so can YOU!

GET OUT OF YOUR OWN WAY

 

Barbara Ward-Finneran

Get out of your own way... Life is about making a comeback. 

It’s all to easy to decide to put off or wait till next week what needs to be done.  In many cases what is long over due.  I can not put my finger on exactly when I decided that I had had enough.  I know I heard the voice in my head constantly saying you have to stop.  An emotional eater who was torn with every spoonful of ice cream knowing in essence that I was killing myself with every bite.  Yet spiraling for over two years with not being able to be in control for more then a few weeks at a time.  Wondering often, “When exactly did I lose control of my life?!”

My 40th birthday was approaching in the spring and I knew I did not want to start the next phase of my life with my five foot one inch frame carrying a morbidly obese amount of weight.  I prayed for the courage and strength to commit to taking my life back.  One day I looked ahead on the calendar to see when exactly my 40th birthday hit.  And, there was the sign I prayed for, April 12, 2009 was Easter Sunday.  Easter, the day of resurrection.  The day of new life.  The tears streamed and I knew I’d had enough.  Time to reclaim my life and find the girl who felt alive when reaching for goals and chasing her dreams. I looked at the tired, dull eyed reflection in the mirror and said out loud, “I want more and only I can make that happen”.

TWO YEARS LATER, HINDSIGHT IS 20/20

Barbara Ward-Finneran
I'm over it.  Over the worrying and wondering.  It never seems to go away.  It is a curse of the "mature" midlife adult.  It serves no purpose and yet at times it's practically impossible to dismiss. Practice being "Ms. Pollyanna Positive" all you want - (and I'm good at that!) - but it sneaks in.  It might not even be in the forefront.  Yet it dwells within you.  My "worry monster" usually rears it's ugly head if I wake up during the night.  My brain turns on with thoughts streaming though it worse then a gigantic meteor shower and not nearly as pretty.  In fact it can be pretty ugly and becoming worse.  Much like that buzzing in your ears, after a great concert or all night-er at a loud club way back when, that you can't turn it off.  

It is said that more then 90% of what you worry about never happens.  Human nature though, seems to refuse to let us rationalize that more often then not.  Especially at times more practically used for other things like sleeping.  Our worries transpose but they never seem to disappear.  It's the kids, ailing parents, relationships, obligations, professional issues, finances, job cuts, personal health concerns or scares, etc. etc. etc... The list goes on and on.  Most times it can be shaken off.   At others, not so much.  Those curve balls that life throws you seem to be ready to knock you square between they eyes and you can hardly muster the agility to duck.  Yet life goes on.  Changes. Morphs into the next great chapter.  Complete with it's own set of worries.  And joys!  Let's focus there. Embrace the good and blessings that abound.  Attitude is everything.  It's the difference between feeling like you are lost in the dark and realizing that if it wasn't for the darkness one could never appreciate the beauty of the stars.  


"Sometimes the best thing you can do is not think, not wonder, not imagine, not obsess.  Just breathe and have faith that everything will work out for the best." - Author Unknown


Kind of sums up a few of my "Barbara-isms":
Breathe, just breath!
Change and faith are the only constants.
Keep the promises that you make to yourself!
The best is yet to come!


Here's something I wrote from a while back.  An ironic and beautiful example of how the more things change, the more they stay the same - only different.  LOL 
Hakuna matata my friends, hakuna matata! XO

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The power of Perspective

(Author's Note: Written February 2010) 

A few mornings ago I hugged my boys goodbye, jetted out the door, and out of their sight exhaled with a heavy heart.  Wondering if this would be the last "normal" goodbye for a while.  Was it possible that the events forthcoming that morning could change my perspective of everything? Would my whole world feel different in a few hours? The thundering silence of my racing thoughts broken by the sound of my tears as I rushed to the appointment.

Sometimes despite our best efforts there is irony.  Almost a year ago, I looked forty in the eye and decided to make changes.  I adapted a healthier and more active lifestyle. Rededicated myself to and reinvented the girl who felt so alive when chasing my dreams.  In recent months I have looked and felt better then I have in years, yet in the last five weeks I have spent more time with doctors and undergone more tests then I can count on two hands.  

When summoned to the doctor's office for an immediate visit after numerous tests, there isn't any kind of warm fuzzy.  The phone call struck a cord in me that stole the air out of my lungs.  Welcome to another side effect of midlife - health scares.

It is difficult to muster the courage needed to channel your inner strength and to focus on the positive while sitting on a table, dressed in glorified paper towels, and waiting to sink your feet into stirrups while shivering.  Then concentrate on the discussion of tumors, surgical procedures and options while feeling completely vulnerable and still dressed in the fashionless paper gown.  Finally clothed, I sat with a tourniquet on my arm and watched the clear vial fill with the scarlet liquid that eventually may answer the cancer question. 

Sometimes life throws you a curve ball.  Worry is wasted energy!  It does not prevent the sorrows or fears of tomorrow, but steals today's strength and joys.  I'm choosing another route! Being empowered by pinpointing the positive and putting it in a prayerful place.  Cast aside your worries - join me there!

STRIP MALLS AND STRIP CLUBS

Tony Walker


Some of you may find this hard to believe....
For the past few months I have been joining my community in the fight against a strip club.

If you've read my posts or if you know me you're probably laughing hysterically right now.

I love naked woman more than the average man so why would I fight against a strip club?

I'll tell you why... because this club will be walking distance from my house.

Strip clubs belong in industrial areas away from residential neighborhoods, right?

If you live on Long Island, New York, you've probably read about it. There have been articles in Newsday and our local news, Channel 12. (My wife and I are seen in the piece real quick... applauding one of our local politicians who came out and spoke on the community's behalf).

DEDICATED TO THE MAN WHO LAUGHED HIS A$$ OFF

Tony Walker


This past weekend was a tough one. My wife's Uncle, who is her Godfather and whom she is very close with, died suddenly. He had minor health concerns but there was nothing currently going on... this was totally out of left field.


In honor of Lisa's Uncle I'd like to share a little story.

Uncle Ted had the most loud, highest, one of a kind laugh I've ever heard. Being in the comedy business, I've heard a lot of laughs. Picture this, if you will; Alan Alda's Hawkeye Pierce mixed in with Joe Pesci and maybe a few farm animals, that was Uncle Ted's laugh.

BUSINESS TRIP - Part VI - Hart's Desire

Flooded With Flashbacks

Have you ever wished for a night that would never end?

Jillian B. Hart

His eyes locked on her, taking in the droplets hanging in the hair that caught the light and reflected like diamonds dancing around her. She could feel herself shaking inside.  His touch, his kiss, leaving her feeling weak and slightly faint. It was incomprehensible.  Them being so in sync. Feelings so in unison. After scads of time had escaped them.  After their lives had ceased to be merged in any way, shape, or form for years.  Studying him, she dared to fathom and acknowledge that he was still the one. Still the one that she dreamed of - the one, a part of her heart had always continued to love.  She knew a part of her heart would forever belong to him.  

In the gentle drizzle, the moonlight fell on the cityscape of buildings beyond the bridge where it slipped through the shroud of clouds.  Darting in and out across the distance like the impassioned feelings chasing across the immediate atmosphere between them. Words eluded them as their eyes flitted across each other’s silhouettes as if to memorize the face before them.  Every meeting glance leaving them more entranced between the recollection of abundant memories and the reality that stood before them.  A reality theirs for the taking at this moment if they melted into this instant and lost control.  All she had always waited for stared back at her.  She saw before her every dream that she had longed to come true.  Her eyes fell closed under the overwhelming intensity of it all, as the voice in her head wished for this night to never end.  

"Business" Trip - Part III - Hart's Desire

Ms. Jillian B. Hart

"Business" Trip - Part I (Read this first!)

"Business" Trip - Part II (Then Read this!)

Still at Shay's Pub... Continued...

When a waiter paused by the table, he asked, “Would you like a drink?”

“I’ll have one of what you’re having.” She responded.  To heady to think of a better answer.  More wine arrived and she was secretly thankful not to be mixing drinks on a stomach empty, yet filled with butterflies.

Night was falling quickly.  The sunlight waned into an ultramarine sky.  The reflection of the neo-classical brick bridge was fading into the St. Charles River except where modern lighting decorated the view. The glow of windows of the nearby Harvard buildings began dotting the horizon.  

PARANORMAL PUB - "A" Model Point of View - Part lI

A" Model Point of View - Part l

Marion Pellicano Ambrose

After the lighthouse, we proceeded to the old jail, where many paranormal investigators have reported a great deal of ghostly activity. Just walking through the facility at night was frightening, but when a crazed former inmate showed up (an excellent actor by the way) he was able to make us all have shivers run up and down our spines. He told the tale of the 8 hangings that took place at the jail, one being his own. When a paranormal team visited, they were able to record an EVP that seemed to say “There were only 8”. The EVP was played out loud as we stood in a dark cell on the second floor of the dimly lit jail, and believe me, it was frightening!

We drove past the City Gates where a specter known as Elizabeth is said to be seen regularly. It seems that Elizabeth was a young girl who came to the gates of the city seeking refuge within during an outbreak of yellow fever. She was denied entry and died right there at the gate. Many people report finding a misty white figure in their photos that they didn’t see while taking it. Others claim to actually see a young girl with long flowing hair dressed in a billowing white gown standing by the City Gates. She was reported to be seen so often, that the police began bicycle patrols in the area and several officers have reported seeing her themselves, only to have her disappear as they approach.

PARANORMAL PUB: Heartbeat Bridge

There's nothing like a good old summer spooky story being told around the campfire, during an evening bonfire at the beach, or even on the porch after dark. This story is said to have taken place near Heartbeat Bridge, located in Ellicot City, MD. This tale is told by people living in the area to explain why, to this day, a heartbeat can be felt through the pavement by people standing on the bridge. 

 -Marion Pellicano Ambrose

Something was going on. Jason felt it in his bones. Polly was too happy, too cheerful. No woman could be that upbeat and still be faithful to her husband. Jason sat down to a delicious, warm meal every night, and Polly sang to herself as she washed up. What kind of woman could be cheerful doing dishes? Try as he might, Jason never heard anything that hinted of a secret romance. It drove him crazy. Life was not this perfect.

Maybe Polly was seeing the milkman, or the grocer. Jason started getting up early in order to see who it was that delivered the milk. Much to his disappointment, the fellow looked as if he’d been born several centuries ago. Then Jason started doing the food shopping, and checked out every single male employee in the local grocery store. They were either antediluvian relicts—like the milkman—or still in diapers.

Later that month Jason was over at his father-in-law’s house working in the garage when he over heard his father-in-law call to Hank…Polly’s high-school boyfriend. Now he knew! He knew why Polly was so happy all the time. Her parents must have told her that Hank was coming home, and she was planning on running off with him.

Enraged with jealousy, Jason was waiting in the kitchen when Polly got back from church. He was beyond reason. He snatched up a newly sharpened steak knife, howling: “You’ve cut out my heart, now I’ll cut out yours!” Jason leapt around the table and ripped Polly’s still-beating heart out of her chest. Blood streaming everywhere, he sailed out the back door into the dark night and flung her heart, still thumping, over the side of the bridge that spanned the creek next to their home

Jason cleaned up the blood-stained house with extreme care and buried Polly’s body deep in the woods outside of town. Then he wrote several letters, carefully mimicking Polly’s handwriting, and mailed them to himself and her parents. Within a few days, everyone in town believed that Polly had been secretly seeing a man from the next town and that they had run away together.

Late one evening, he went out to the bridge to gloat in triumph over his unfaithful wife. Polly had gotten what she deserved, he thought. As he stood staring down at the water, he became aware of a vibration under his feet. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. It floated softly through the air, a simple rhythmic thudding. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. Jason’s hands began to tingle as he recognized the soft thudding sound. It was the same beat he had felt when he held Polly’s bleeding heart in his hands. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

The heartbeat rang in his ears, thundering so loud that he was afraid it would wake the neighbors. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. Jason clapped his hands over his ears and ran back to the house. But he could not escape the terrible sound: Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. Even the floorboards seemed to vibrate to the slow, steady rhythm. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. It sounded like a heart-beat. Polly’s heartbeat. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

Jason screamed in terror and flung himself out of the house, running toward the bridge as the heartbeat grew louder and louder in his ears. Jason leaned over the railing.

“Curse you, Polly!” he shouted.

Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

With a wild shriek, Jason flung himself headfirst off the bridge like a diver, and was smashed to death on the rocks below.

Underfoot on the bridge, the pavement still vibrates to the beat of a dead heart. For now and always.

Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

 

Excerpted from Spooky Maryland by S.E. Schlosser

THE SURPRISE VICTIM - Marion Pellicano Ambrose

I have the pleasure of spending a few hours each week with a very smart, young man,

doing some enrichment work with him. We do lot of Math, Science, Writing, and

Reading ,but today we took a little side track.

I had my computer open to “favorites” looking for an environmental game site that we

were going to explore when he spotted a site on Bullying. He immediately wanted to

see it and talk about what you can do if you’re being bullied. I was really shocked. This is a good looking, personable, well rounded 10 year old who would be the last one I would think would be bullied, and yet, the story came tumbling out.

He’s been the victim of bullying since 2nd grade. Other kids have tried to get him to do things he knows are wrong, have called him names, and have spread rumors about him

behind his back. His parents have worked with him and with the school to stop the

Bullying, sometimes to no avail. They've gone above and beyond to protect their son while still teaching him to stand up and be assertive when necessary.

From all he told me, he’s handled it well, ,doing all the right things, but the fact remains that he’s had to deal with the problem repeatedly. He described one incident where

another student grabbed his wrist and twisted it,telling him to say “You’re the greatest

and better than me.” My young friend stood straight, looked the bully in the face and

said “NO” in a loud ,clear, assertive voice. Luckily the bully tired of the event when he

saw that he wasn’t going to win .That was direct bullying, and it stopped for the time

being ,but the indirect bullying continued. ( telling others not to play with my friend,

spreading rumors about him, etc.)

We talked at length today about techniques to use, ways to avoid being bullied and when it’s time to tell. One of the hardest concepts for kids is to learn the difference between telling and tattling. No kid wants to be a “snitch” but they have to learn not to allow themselves to become victims either. We identified bullying “hot spots” and I found that his bus is a major bullying location. Sitting in direct sight of the driver and surrounding yourself with friends can often nip that in the bud.

There are many things we, as parents and teachers, can do to help our children

avoid being the victim of bullies. One important factor is to teach all our children to