Life is like a box of

I'm working on getting my comments to show up in WP feed. I messed up the comment code for my other template. This is template is temporary and may change through the course of the day.

IF YOU CAN SEE the comment section from the WP feed please leave a comment.

Here's the problem, on WP feed my comment section wasn't showing up, however, if you come to my website comments can be left...... that is until I messed up the comment call for that template, dang it!

I need a template that isn't flashy and that shows my pages at the top so that art gallery titles can be seen and accessed. I don't want a template with thumbnails above new entries.

I'll work on this issue. Until then please be patient with my mess.

how do I fix this?

 

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That's a better title than this entry is going to be. Don't get your hopes up. This is an ah ha moment entry on my ....... yes........ my French studies. lol

Yeah, it was that bad. It was a total fail but I realized something, I only heard a limited number of people speak this language and hardly ever could I distinguish a single word. What happened was that I had a closed view of what French sounds like. In other words, I had a bias.

The language I heard is what I called ugly. There was no beauty in the sounds, no grace in the words and therefore no life could be heard...... ah but then things changed. I know I said I'd pick up Spanish after the great French train wreck and epic fail but I can't let myself do it.

While wallowing in life issues not related to schooling, I binge watched Hercule Poirot and I actually HEARD beautiful French. The thing is, I've seen all those before. There's nothing new except for how open my ears were to hearing what was said. I'd never heard the language sound 'beautiful' because I've always passed it off as ugly. Before people get too mad, consider how many people say German isn't a beautiful language. I say it is. It's all in how our bias lets us hear it or not hear it.

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I should never, ever go to the grocery store because there are too many stupid people there. Y'all, it's a scarf, a 99 cent scarf from Goodwill. It's not that big a deal. It was around my shoulders... my shoulders. It's black and gold, 'shimmery' as the woman described it.

She touched my scarf and said it was pretty. I said thank you. She started rattling on about how big and 'shimmery' it is then she said, "With that African scarf you could carry a watermelon." I said, "...or a body."

Really? Seriously? You went there? And yes, I did come back with, "...or a dead body."

Where do these people come from? I mean my goodness. I even got called out of my name by a customer, not an employee but a customer called me a female dog for asking the manager to open another line because I wasn't able to wait in the 5 lanes they had open ( in the middle of the day). I couldn't believe a customer called me out of my name! She went into a spiel about how she works in retail and cashiers can only do what they're asked to do, blah, blah, blah. I said, "Are you crazy? What's wrong with you? While you're figuring that out, watch me roll to Customer Service and get rung up." ...... I could not believe it!

I would wear my a baseball hat if it fit over my dreadlocks...and if I could avoid the stereotype that such a look indicates gang activity and other militants.

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I've been once again drawing trees obsessively.

Before girl's night with pizza and a movie, I cut out of here for a nature walk to the park. There were a few families there, separate from one another and weary of each other. There was an uneasiness I refused to be part of. I was there to touch the trees, to look at the bark, search for early moss and breathe.

I came home with walnut hulls that now hold early spring moss.

It was a long day and an even longer night with a still stagnant day to follow. Yesterday's activities with the girl's didn't go as well as I'd hoped because two of us weren't really in the best frame of mind to gather with others and be 'normal'. It ended badly, as badly as a joke. Two depressed girls and an artist walk into a bar.... ......bad.

The pizza was good.

This evening I opened the windows to trade out stale air for new.

Jane is lazy, but not my mind.

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Yay!! I finally was able to refill my lapsang souchong. This seems extra smokey but still good. I prefer Teavana but who on earth has that kind of money? I first came across this tea after someone purchased from Teavana but didn't like it. I inherit teas this way all the time.

A few months ago I received a nice present in the mail called Chamomile Bloom Herbal Tea. That is one beautiful tea. The florals in it are ...beautiful which meant I was going to have to eventually have some more of that stuff. I looked at the ingredients list. I now have them all.

If you understand how to read a recipe or ingredients list then you can duplicate packaged tea. Getting as close as possible or duplicating teas means I don't have to spend a small fortune on this passion of mine. I can mix some up as I go or I can mix a larger amount of herbs and store it as a Sundrip Tea. I'll have to start calling these Sundrip Tea. lol.

A friend purchased a grocery store brand called Berry & Ancient Flowers. It's a green tea by Private Selection. I'm not crazy about blueberry unless its yogurt, but the strong florals make the blueberry tolerable for me. Knowing I may want the tea again, I had to check the ingredients and see if I had everything. I did, with the exception of Calendula which appears to be helpful in several ways. I noticed that Calendula has warnings for people on sedatives, high blood pressure medication and those with diabetes.

Even though I've got a knowledgeable individual guiding me, I still make mistakes with homeopathy. The difficulty is one brought up when I was in Culinary School. There is a severe lack of standards and regulations, and people tend to forget that these flowers are medicine. Done correctly, homeopathy has done me a world of good, especially for my situation. But, mistakes in dosing or conflicts with pharmaceuticals can cause serious and other times humorous side effects. This is my segue to a part I'll call, "How to know if you've taken too much turmeric tincture" aka "Good Lord I can't stop throwing up my internal organs."

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My cab driver said the most shallow thing I've ever heard. She said, "If I could ask God for anything, I'd ask him for a big butt." ..... cue the crickets........ I gave no reply. I mean really, what do you say to that? Screw world peace, forget curing cancer, feeding the hungry, releasing the oppressed, give me a bubble butt! Child please, I'm not on enough medication for crap like this.

I will have my guest here Wednesday. It hit me that I'm a bit shy about my humble home. I told Dr. D today that I struggled with having someone come that might expect more. I'm not poor, I'm destitute. I've heard about this poverty line but I think, like Big Foot, it's an urban legend. Has anyone ever seen it? As a child, the mother's income saw us way above it. Despite bouts of homelessness she kept her position, strange, but she did. I almost detest money until I need it. I told Dr. D that my needs are primarily emotional and spiritual. I have very little use for ...things....

This individual will come here and meet me with no pretenses, no complications, just me and the walls that hold the things that make me tick. Eventually I returned to my center and stopped the whole garbage about my home being too humble. Jordan will handle the artist that's visiting us.

Dr. D asked if I still feel suicidal. I said yes. He asked if I am going to act on it. I said no but I'm surprised at the length of time these thoughts have lingered.

Car accident number two in one week. Lesson learned: never ride with someone while they're very, very manic. I actually screamed out, "Oh no, Jehovah, this is going to hurt!" She started laughing. It did hurt and still does. Can I get in a car and not slam into something? When she's not driving recklessly we have a total blast. I really enjoy her company.

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Art is a huge part of what I do but it's not all I do. Here are photos of some of the things that keep me going. Some might call it an apartment but I see it as 650 sq feet of creative space.

Wide view of the dining room.
I am very pleased to welcome to my home, an artist who I will meet for the first time in person. I'm anxious and excited. Actually, I'm a tad bit star struck. I will not supply photos but I will gush and be all thrilled to have her here. Since ya'll aren't comin' (that was terrible), I thought I'd give you a little peek into this world of mine.

Part of the dining room table.
These are some of the more than 20 rescued succulents from the grocery store purchased for $4.00. They will need time to get well rooted and start growing stronger.
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I was somewhat angry and agitated about meeting with Dr Yes when it wasn't planned until the last minute. I feared abandonment with shaming. I also thought, I can go in there and talk to them calmly and see what can be done.

I got there. I put on my skirt and blouse, arranged my hair, got on the earrings, grabbed my shoulder bag and arrived on time. When I got there I was told it was a mistake, the automated machine called when it shouldn't have. They said, we do have your script though. I said, I really feel like I need to talk to Dr. Yes about the phone conversation. With four women in the room I said, do any of you know who I spoke to? Who was it that I spoke to extensively about the medication? All of them said it wasn't them. I said, I spoke to someone who was forceful and demeaning. One woman said, "You spoke to Robin." I said, okay. Still calm I explained that she questioned the script, told me I wasn't doing anything for myself and did I expect to take these pills for the rest of my life? I said to the woman at the desk. I'll have this illness for the rest of my life, but the point is, the way that woman spoke to me caused me to want to fire Dr. Yes because I thought that information was coming from him. She said, this isn't new, you need to speak to the office manager. I said, ok. The way I felt that day talking to her isn't the first time I hung up feeling horrible about myself.

Back in the manager's office I sent went through the entire store. The manager then said, "I've had enough of Robin, enough is enough." She explained that its not the first time and that the formal complaint will go in her personnel file.  ...continue reading

This is a nothing entry....something to toss up here so I can stamp time saying I was here.

So we're here, hanging around and its time for a cup of hot chocolate. Snow goes to get the cups and says, "You don't have any hot chocolate. Faith, it's empty."
Me - "What, no, there should be a little bit left.
Snow - "No"
she said admittedly, "It's empty."
I was like, "No! Why? Whyyyy?"

Turns out I had no hot chocolate, twas true. It was empty. There was nothing but a spoon with trace particles of multisyllabic chemicals, synthetic fillers and artificial coloring. The world had dealt its last blow, a sucker punch!

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I was at the store and a lady asked me what was wrong. I told her I have Lupus. She kept ringing me up. I was wearing headphones which is a clue that I don't want to talk, but it didn't work that way.

Cashier - Did you break your back?
Me. I have Lupus
(silence)
Cashier - That hurts, doesn't it?
Me - Oh yeah.
Cashier - When's the last time you had sex?

Of course this shocked me because I don't know this woman from Adam so I turned my head to the left....confused....then to the right....confused. I put my hand over my mouth in shock, head still going left then right trying to wrap my brain around this question from a total stranger.  After a long silence I said,, "Um, wow." Then with all the irritation I could muster and a deep sigh I said,

Really? Seriously? (deep sigh)....please, just ring me up before I fall over...
Cashier - You looked like you were in a lot of pain the last time you were here. Are you better now?

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