BYKTW Day

I was in the drug store yesterday dropping off an Rx. It had been a most terrible day so I picked up a few things and decided to use the self-serve machine because, quite frankly, I didn't want to hear anyone say "Have a nice day." I swiped everything that I bought, but before I could pay, the machine said I had to show my ID to the cashier that was on the register next to the self-serves. After finally getting her attention she said, "You can't use that machine if you're purchasing alcohol." Her attitude was rather snotty if you ask me. I looked at her and thought, "Don't kill her, just don't kill her. Stay calm and no one will get hurt." What person—a woman who should have seen the signs and known better—would be snotty to a woman wearing a Bring Your Kid to Work Day t-shirt and buying tampons, chocolate and wine coolers? Now doesn't that just scream watch out! Woman on the edge? There wasn't enough alcohol in those (yes, those) wine coolers to wipe out a day taking care of 39 children who don't belong to me. Mine are bad enough (which is why I don't bring any of them to work). One child was obviously in need of serious attitude-adjusting drugs. I told his mom later that I had to have a talk with him and she said "Yeah, I forgot to give him his medicine today." What???!!! How could you forget to give your ADD kid his meds when you know you're taking him into your place of employment for the day? Heck, I would have given him an extra dose! Don't think we won't be talking about her for a long time. BYKTW Day is so not in my job description!

Happy Trails to You

My dork of an ex decided that he was going to hike the PCT after he retired from the Navy. After all the bragging online about his previous stint as a sniper in the Marines (while he was in college no less—funny how they couldn't find his USMC service record when he join the Navy) and world-wide hiking history, he finally started on the hike two days ago. On day one, he ran out of water, steps on a rattlesnake, gets stung by a bee (did I mention his allergy), got attacked by a hummingbird (a really, really big, man-eating bird), and injured his knee falling. On day two he quit. I am so laughing my ass off.

Phantom & the need for new glasses

I was so excited last Friday because I was going to see the Phantom. Well sort of. The first hint should have been that it was playing in Escondido, not San Diego. The second hint should have been that I got tickets the week of the performance. When I read the announcement in the newspaper I didn't notice that it was just Phantom not Phantom of the Opera. Hence, the need for new glasses.

When my sister and I arrived we discovered it wasn't Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom, it was by Yetsen & Kopit. You remember those two? According to Wikipedia it is " frequently described as the most successful musical never to have played on Broadway." Well I have to differ in that opinion. It was horrid. There wasn't one memorable song in the whole play (or at least until the intermission because we left after that). It was all filler music. There were quite a few scenes that were comical, was it supposed to be funny? One scene was too funny but it wasn't supposed to be. Christine was in the room with the phantom when Raoul runs to her door shouting, "Christina, let me in," as he bangs on the door. Unfortunately the door does open from his banging, so he had to quickly pull it shut while still shouting "Christina, let me in!" The whole audience roared with laughter.

At least I had a better time last week when I went to see Wicked up in LA with a few friends from work. Now that was a fantastic play & I would definately see it again. We went up and did the whole tourist thing, looked at the stars in the sidewalk, checked out the cement handprints and walked down Rodeo Drive. As many times as I went to LA (or should I say the Valley) I never go to see Hollywood because my ex, pfl (pig-faced larry, with no caps because he doesn't deserve to be a noun), didn't want to drive in from West Covina because: 1) the traffic was terrible 2) the streets are crowded 3) there's too many people (pick the excuse you wish, he used them all). So instead my whole LA experience was going to the mall in West Covina. Yeah.

I still have Webber's Phantom music in my head. I feel cheated.

The Captain & the Kid

There's a song by Jimmy Buffett called Captain & the Kid that always, always, makes me cry. He wrote it for his grandfather & it reminds me of my dad, Captain Fred Durnford. He died when I was 19, before I got to know him as a person. Dad was a captain in the merchant marines, plying the St. Lawrence River and later when I was a teenager (and living with him & my step-mom) he was a captain in the Canadian Coast Guard.

He was always a mystery to me. First, I never met him until I was seven because my parents were separated and I lived in a different country. Plus they didn't get along well—that's an understatement. Also, he was a man of few words so he never talked about himself or his past. Perhaps if I had been a little older, and not such a self-centred teenager, I would have gotten to know him. But it's too late.

I vaguely remember meeting him for the first time. I have snatches of a memory of a party in my step-aunt's basement and me sitting on his lap, but it's a very, very vague memory. The story goes that I met him and sat on his lap all night without moving, I was so enamoured with him. The reason that the story is amazing is that my father's face was badly scared & his right hand consisted of three large stumps. He had been badly burned in the war and he was a bit frightening in small children's eyes. But, supposedly I didn't flinch or even notice. Too bad I don't remember much.

Year's later when I was a teenager I never even thought that his face was "different" it was all I ever knew so when I saw pictures of him before the war he looked strange to me. He wasn't the dad that I knew. It also created problems with new friends that I'd bring over to the house because I'd forget to forewarn them about his face and hand.

It was at his funeral that I started to realize what an amazing person my father was. The whole crew from the two ships my dad worked on were at the funeral in their dress blues (which I think half of them had to borrow). We're talking about 150 guys. And the flowers, they were busting out of the church. There were flowers from ships that he hadn't worked on in 20 years. News had spread up and down the St. Lawrence River in a heartbeat and they all sent flowers or came to the funeral. I stood there and thought, "Wow, he was pretty respected."

I never thought that I looked like my father, or my mother if truth be told. I was on the ferry on the way to Newfoundland & I ran into my aunt and some old family friends that I had never met. We were all going over for my aunt & uncle's 50th anniversary. This man came in and my aunt said, "Guess who this is?" And without skipping a beat he said, "That's Fred's daughter." I was shocked, I do look like him! I was so proud at that moment.

So the reason that The Captain & the Kid makes me cry is because of a comment that my father said to my sister just before he died. Dad was finally going to retire and bought a little boat. He took my sister down to see it; the sister who gets sea sick in a bathtub. He started walking down the pier and was about half way down when he realized that she wasn't behind him because the rocking pier scared her. So he came back, tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, patted it, and said, "You know if Cynde was here she'd be on the boat already." Even though I never mentioned that I loved the sea as much as him, he figured it out.

He's the Captain, I'm the kid.

Miss USA

Yeah I had to watch it but not all the way through. It's sort of like that traffic accident. You know, when you swear you will not be like everyone else and slow down to watch, but as you get closer you just can't help it, and you look. So I looked. I watched the first few minutes to see who was representing my adopted state of California and my home state of Florida. Later I went back to see the evening gown section and oh, my God! Who picked their gowns? Almost every single one of them had on a hoochie-momma, trampy-looking dress! Miss California had on a dress with a neckline that went down to her navel showing off her little saggy boobies—and black is not her colour. Miss Nevada had some frilly number that looked like Mami Eisenhower's bed jacket—except Mami wouldn't of had the front cut up to there! Okay, mental image I didn't need. And what is with the elastic gathering up the crack of the butt? I can't remember who was wearing that but the front was just as bad. I called it the blue bondage number.

Now I'm not going to get into the whole feminist issue as to whether the pageant should be shown at all. But, my own personal opinion is, "Isn't that what feminism is all about, the ability to choose?" I personally wouldn't be caught dead in a pageant but I'm not going to say to another woman that you shouldn't or can't go into a pageant because then wouldn't we be going back to the time when men were telling us that we shouldn't and can't? It's a two way street, you can't have it both ways. Didn't I say that I was not going to get into the whole feminist issue? Ah, but isn't it a woman's prerogative to chance her mind :)

Books I'm reading: I'm in the middle of Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. Man that is one fucked up family! I just finished another Terry Pratchett book. I'm working my way through the series. He is one seriously funny guy. And last but not least, I'm working my way through a biography of George III's daughters. I didn't know that one of them had a child out of wedlock. I thought only the Hanover boys were baddies.

Men in Trees

I really used to like that new show Men in Trees, but lately I've not been able to watch it. Not since the tabloids started talking about Ann Heche leaving her husband for co-star James Tupper. Suddenly their kissing scenes are not acting anymore, they're real, and it's uncomfortable, especially to someone who's been cheated on before. I'm a little hypersensitive over issues like that. But there's a 4-year old involved. Okay, so he's already scared for life with a name like Homer (boy isn't he going to have fun in second grade). But they were joking about it, he said that his wife had bought a $1,000 dress to entice him after he was talking about the kissing scenes with Ann and a month later they're together. She knew. And she was saying a month earlier that her husband was the best Mr. Mom that I know. What about his poor wife who worked hard while he was trying to make a break as a actor and this happens when he finally gets that break. I'd be tempted to break him! He's giving a lot up for someone who has mental problems (remember when she was wondering around town nuts), and can't figure out what sexuality she is (remember Ellen). It's not going to last and both of them will pay dearly for it ala Christy Brinkley. Everyone is saying "Poor Christy, he husband cheated on her." Ummm, duh, isn't that what she did to Billy Joel? Case closed.

Good Parent, Bad Spouse

I was watching the View and they were having an argument about spouses having an affair. It all started with the Rosie/Donald arguement where she said how come he gets to be the moral code for Miss USA when he cheated on his spouse and has been married 3 times. Then Barbara said something about a "little affair." The blonde (can't think of her name) got upset over the word "little," an affair is an affair. Obviously Barbara has never been cheated on because it's never "little." Anyway, the blonde said that if you are a bad spouse then you are also a bad parent. Now Rosie disagreed on that one, even though she said Donald Trump was not a good moral code. She was saying there was a difference between the two. You can be a bad spouse but a good parent. I disagree. If you are having an affair, even if it's a brief one, then you are not being a good parent. First of all, you are cheating on that kids mother or father. If the child finds out (and trust me they will find out one day) what does that tell them? That it's okay to treat their other parent that way? That it's okay to cheat? Isn't that was Joseph Kennedy taught his kids? We teach our children by example, so what type of example are you teaching them? Bottom line, they're watching you and emulating you.

Aunt Lottie

One of my most favourite people in the world passed away this week in Port aux Basque, Newfoundland–my Aunt Lottie. We were lucky enough to visit Uncle Eric & Aunt Lottie last June for their 60th anniversary. Even after 60 years of marriage you never saw two people that were more in love with each other than those two. Aunt Lottie was an important part of my life. When I was going through my divorce she—all 5ft nothing of her—told me that she wanted to go down to Virginia and "punch Larry in the nose!" She probably would have done it too. Our trip in June was the first time that my husband met that side of my family. He fell such in love with Aunt Lottie and she with him. It was so bad that when I called home, the first thing she would say is, "how's my Bruce?" He started calling himself Aunt Lottie's Bruce. She just thought that he was something else because he did the dishes and helped around the house. Men didn't do that in her day, not that they would have been allowed to around her. This is the tribute that I wrote for her funeral:

How do you describe Lottie Durnford? I think saying that she was a small ball of a woman in constant motion pretty well sums it up. I don’t think I ever saw Lottie, in her younger years before age caught up with her, ever walk at a sedate pace. She was always bustling in and out of rooms, mainly the kitchen—Lottie was always in the kitchen.

I can’t think of Lottie without thinking of food and tea. Whenever you went to their house food would just miraculously appear on the table the minute you sat down, and I mean lots of food! I was the only child of my father’s born off the Rock, so I hadn’t grow up with traditional Newfoundland food. Aunt Lottie changed all that. She introduced me to the wonders of pork buns! The minute she heard that I had never had one she was scandalized and started baking, and baking and baking. I had pork buns every blessed morning during my first visit to Newfoundland. Oh, and you also drank a lot of tea when you were around Lottie—even if you didn’t like tea. Food and tea; that was her way of showing love.

Lottie had a great big heart. She loved her family dearly, her son Merrill, her daughter-in-law Ida, and most especially her precious granddaughter Linda. Linda was the apple of her eye. But the greatest love of her life was for her husband Eric. She loved that man dearly and gladly cared of him for 60 years of a beautiful marriage. Those of us lucky to be present at their recent 60th anniversary saw that love shining through. For 60 years she loved the same man, passionately and dearly.

I am glad that I had Lottie Durnford in my life. I wish that everyone had a Lottie Durnford in their lives because if they did, the world would be a better place. They would have known unconditional love and unconditional dedication to family and God. For Lottie showed that every day to everyone and we’re all better for it.

Paradise

Today I went to the beach to take some photos. There was a tall ship in town and I wanted to get some photos of her while she was going out to sea. While we were sitting there on the breakers I was just amazed about how beautiful my adopted home is. Here it was the middle of January and we were sitting out on a breaker watching the sailboats go by. Can't do that up north this time of year. San Diego county has got to be one of the most beautiful areas in the states. It's much nicer than L.A., the people there are too plastic in my mind. San Diegians are warmer, friendlier and small-townish compared to our neighbours to the north. I think San Diego is the closest you can get to a Canadian city in the states. The people are polite and friendly, just like back home - without the cold weather.

Seems like it was just yesterday.

Last night we went out for dinner at Old Country Buffet for Bryant's 17th birthday. On the way home I was listening to the boys talk in the back seat and was thinking about how many times we had gone there in the past and the night ended with me fussing at the boys, mainly Blake, for making rude noises. It seems with boys that you can't go from point A to point B in the car without someone doing something that involved bodily functions. Blake was usually the culprit in our house. About half way home he'd start giggling in the back and the rest of the boys are gagging and rolling down the window. He try to be serious and say, "I couldn't hold it in, " but his sincerity was very lame since he could hardly say it without giggling. It dawned on me last night that it just seemed like yesterday and now he's out on his own in the Marines. They sure grow up fast.

Day Two with the Drill Instructor

Stepson #3 started Marine boot camp on Monday. It's handy having a spouse that went through it so we know what he's going through each day. I generally know what he's going through, boot camp is boot camp, but the day to day stuff is different between the services. Yesterday was "meet" the drill instructor day. I can only imagine what that is like. The asterisk were theirs not mine. Nice to see that Marines have a sense on humour. I had an upper endoscopy yesterday, fun time was had by all! It wasn't really that bad they gave me a sedative that made me happy. I wasn't so fond of the spray they put down my throat to numb it. It was supposed to taste like bananas. It taste like crap and it was foamy. I didn't fall asleep from the sedative until I came home and slept all day, all night and woke up at 9:30 on Saturday. My throat was sore but that's about it. I do have a hiatal hernia which explains all the heartburn.

The World of Comics

I have to admit that I'm a big fan of Luann and For Better or For Worse. And I know I'm not the only one...come on, you're out there. I can't be the only person that checked out Tiffany's My Space. I even checked some of the links. Okay, I thought about posting to it. Man, I can't believe how many people have blogged Tiffany to rat out Luann & Bernice. Quit cluing her in!

I find it fascinating that Luann has blurred the lines between fiction and reality (okay, let's not even go down the reality show road). How cool is it that I read the strip about Luann and Bernice blogging onto Tiffany's My Space on comics.com and with a little tap dancing with the fingers, bam, I'm reading the same blog on Tiffany's My Space. Now how cool is that? Okay, I need to get a life.

Luann is great but my favourite is FBOFW. I have been a fan of that comic 4Ever! Fans will know what that means. I know that they aren't real people but sometimes it just feels like they're part of my family. I'll admit that I cried when Farley died. I knew it was coming, Lynn Johnston said so in an interview, and you could see the build up. It was one of those situations where you didn't want to read it because you knew the ending but you had to anyway. (I get that way with any books on the Rominovs, I keep wanting to shout, "Don't go down in the basement!" But I digress). Even to this day when a reread the strip I tear up. And what is going to happen to Elizabeth and Constable Wright? I seriously think that he's going to become interested in that old friend of his and dump Elizabeth. He really doesn't want to move south. But that's okay because I think Elizabeth will be reunited with the one that she truly love, Anthony. Oh BTW, I was totally wierded out when the comic started winking at me! I'm not sure if I'm ready for animated comic strips online.

Bird Flies the Nest

Today was one of those painful parenting days—one of the boys permanently flew the nest. Today the Marines came at 5 a.m. and took him off to boot camp. You're proud but torn up at the same time because it's such a turning point in their and your lives. I think I've been crying off and on all day. All the other parents at work know exactly what I'm going through. The single ones have no clue. They don't get it, just a few days ago I was ranting and raving that I wished they'd all move out because they don't do squat around the house and expect me to pick up after them, afterall they're on summer vacation. And now I'm crying because I want my baby back. It just seems yesterday that he was ten and playing roller hockey, and then all of a sudden last month he graduated from high school and "poof" he's gone. The circle is now closed because both Bruce and I now know how our moms felt when we went off to boot camp.

Memories

I was on vacation recently up to Newfoundland for my aunt & uncle's 60th anniversary. The last time I was there was 10 years ago at their 50th. While I was there I found the Dick Nolan album I've been searching for in an antique store. It was the only one that was never put on a CD. It has a song on it called Fiddler's Green that my father used to sing (usually when he was in his cups). I've heard the song sung by others but it wasn't the same, it had to be Dick Nolan's version. I had the album but my ex kept it for some strange reason. So I haven't heard it for almost 10 years. Today I finally got a record player so I could hear it. The minute I heard it I started crying. I could picture my father singing away and me, being the snotty teenager that I was, rolling my eyes and saying "Daaaadddd." I called my sister and played the song over the phone. She was sniffling as well. We had a good laugh over that, both of us were crying by the third note! What a nice memory.

Books I've read: Just finished the Tanya Huff vampire PI series. Not bad, always liked her writing. Also finished the DaVinci code just before the movie came out so I could compare. Not bad, but the writing wasn't too difficult. After I finished the book, I realized that the whole story took place in what, three days and no one ate, slept or changed clothes??? I'm in the middle of the Kite Runner but not working too hard on that one (it's my lunch book) and the new Pern book written by her son.

Goodbye Georgie

It's funny how we get attached to objects. I just sold the car that I've been driving for the past 12 years. I balled my eyes out when I had to hand him over to the dealer! He was a 1994 Geo Metro 5-door that I called Georgie...get it, Georgie the Geo. I know, I'm one of those people that names their cars. I've only had 4 cars in over 20 years, I tend to keep them a long time. Georgie was a fantastic car and we had so much history together, hence the crying. I bought Georgie because I needed a car for my dog Phineas. He was too large for a small car but I didn't want to drive a van. Phineas died a few months after I moved out here during my divorce. I firmly believe that he died of a broken heart and my ex had a lot to do with it. I still mourn my poor Phineas. I had to fight tooth and nail to get Georgie shipped out here, the cheap bastard didn't want to spend the money, said I should have drove out here. Yeah, right, not in the state of mind I was in at the time. I remember how pissed I was when I found out his girlfriend was driving around in my car. I wanted to fumigate him when he arrived. I remember how wonderful it felt when the flatbed pulled up with my baby. I felt so emancipated from that louse. I also felt that I had won, the car was mine! And today I sold him. I hope he goes to a new home. But Max, the 2004 Miata turbo, I bought sure will console me.

When Life Gives You a Lesson

My oldest stepson is in college and living at home. Lately he had been bringing his four friends over the house to play computer games after school twice a week. At fist I didn't mind, but over time I was getting tired of the noise and aggravation of coming home tired from work to a house full of kids. Then life taught me a lesson.

Two weeks ago while coming over to our house they got into a horrific car accident. I'm not sure what caused the accident because it was a single-car incident but we do know that they veered to the right, went down an embankment and flipped over three times before stopping. There were five kids in the car, mine was in the back, in the middle, and not wearing a seatbelt. He said that he tried to put the belt on but couldn't fish it out of the seat so he gave up. Funny, how one little decision changes your life.

One was only banged up a bit, two were in the hospital for a few days with broken arms. The two that were injured the worst were the driver and my stepson. We weren't sure if the driver was going to have brain damage, the doctors had him in a drug induced coma for 72 hours, but he came out okay and will be out of the hospital next week. My stepson received a broken leg, arm, jaw (in 2 places), cheekbone, and a collapsed lung, bruised spleen and a concussion. After hearing the sequence of events from his friends (he can't remember) I am amazed that he survived. They said he was half-way out the sunroof when the car finally stopped rolling. I guess when it finally came to a stop with a thump, he was hurled through the sunroof. I shudder to think what the results would have been if he was hurled through the sunroof before the car came to a stop. I don't think I've been more scared in my life when we were waiting in the ER while they were patching him up, or when he was going through his two surgeries. It's a parent's worst nightmare.

And here I was complaining about the noise. I can't wait until they are all better and over at our house again making as much noise as they can.

Books I'm Reading:
Working my way through Tanya Huff's Victory Nelson vampire series.

Th Ass is Still Alive

Remember the guy that I was feeling sorry for because, even though he was an ass, he didn't deserve to have lung cancer. I went on and on about how he wasted his life because he had money but didn't enjoy it or life. Well the bastard lied!!! Can you believe it??? He called his sister over in Europe and gave her this sob story and then....opps, I jumped the gun. The doctor said it might be cancer but he'd have to take some test. And guess what, it's not! He had his sister and his soon-to-be ex-wife (my relative) all upset and feeling sorry for him for nothing. Mind you he does still have diabetes and now some funny condition that causes tumors in his lungs. You get it from digging up dirt in Southern California, how bizarre is that. And to top it all off he lied to my relative about breaking up with the other woman and he hasn't. What a piece of work he is.

Life...Got to Love It

It has been way too long since I wrote a blog. Not that I haven't been thinking about writing one, it's just the doing that sucks. I had this wonderful one hashing around my brain for weeks after the new year, had it practically finished—in my head that is. I wish I could figure out a way to telepathically submit blogs. It was very profound, about all the interesting people that passed away last year. It seemed that they passed away in threes, such as the voice of Piglet, Tigger and Tony the Tiger. There were more notable people vs. popular people that passed away, or at least it seemed to me. But now I've completely forgotten the witty lines andreparteee that I had thought of and now it's lost forever. All I have left in my brain is dribble.

I made the mistake not too long ago of deciding that I was in a state of bliss. Really, everything in my life was going well. I though that I have "arrived" to that Oprah moment when you realize that this is a pretty good life. I live in a place that I love, a house that I love, was finally "really" losing weight, and to top it off I'm married to the most wonderful husband in the world. Pure bliss right? Notice I didn't mention the kids?

Never think that you're in a bliss state when you have teenagers and especially don't make the mistake of saying it out loud. Right after I uttered those fateful words all hell broke loose with the 16 year old and we went through a miserable period..a long torturess period full of abject misery. But we're coming out of it, a little frayed, but hanging in there nonetheless. I think he's through this stupidity period and finally realizing that he has to pay the consequence of his actions. New school, new rules, less freedom, etc.

Now I have to deal with the 18 year old.Onlyy 3 months to go and he's under the Marine's wings :) What is it with teenagers that they think 18 is such a magical number? It was for me because I had graduated and moved out. It's not if you're still in high school and living with your mummy and daddy. He made the mistake of telling me that he was going to a late movie on a school night instead of asking...not a good move on his part. But it's hard to be hanging out with your older brother's friends and having to come home early because of a curfew. So now his life is miserable because he's 18 and can't do what he wants, when he wants, afterall he's now an adult. It alway amazes me that they do the most un-adult things, like sulk, pout and lie, to prove that they are an adult.

Is he going to get a big surprise in July when he reports to boot camp. My husband and I (who both went through it) are silently chuckling. He has no idea what hell he's going to be going through. We're going to look like saints compared to his DIs.

But I think I'm getting back to that bliss state, only this time I'm not saying it out loud!

Books I'm Reading:
Lammas Night by Katherine Kurtz - Witches try to thwart Hitler with the help of HRH the Duke of Clarence, brother of King George VI. Spell binding to say the least! I don't think I've ever dislike a book by Kurtz.

Victoria's Daughters by Jerrold M. Packard - bio of Queen Victoria's daughters. Likes to gloss over history a little too much. But I figured I read about Victoria's grandduaghters (4 of whom became Queens) I should backtrack and read about the mothers. Interesting theory of how Victoria became a carrier of hemophilia. Seems there is no history of it in her ancestors hinting that the Duke of Kent was not her real father.

What goes around...

Someone I know just found out that he has lung cancer. It's rather sad and I have to feel sorry for him even though he's such an ass. This man wrecked a lot of havoc on someone in my family. But I still feel sorry for him because his is such a life wasted.

By all views he would be considered a successful man. He has money, he had reached the pinnacle of his career and then threw it all away on a risky deal making even more money. He had the Midas touch. In reality, he wasn't very successful. He has wonderful adult sons that are back in his life, but because he abandoned them he can't look at them with pride and say "I had something to do with them becoming good men." He had a wife that he didn't appreciate until it was too late. He had money that he couldn't enjoy because he was scared it would all go away. He lived in fear, in fear of life. He was saying that he was going to travel with the few years that he had left. He always wanted to go to South Africa and to Scotland to play golf at St. Andrews. The sad part is there was nothing stopping him from doing those things before except himself. He had the money, he had the time, he had everything! I always say that they never speak of your career at your funeral, only of your character.

It's sad that it took looking at death for him to understand what life is all about.

New Orleans

It pains me to watch the devastation down south, I just can't watch it. I've been through quite a few hurricanes, having lived in Florida, but this was the worst I've ever seen. I was in New Orleans for 2 weeks for school a few years back. New Orleans is the headquarters for the US Navy Reserve and a lot of our school are there. I look at the streets that I walked, now under tons of water and it's just heart wrenching. That is one of the poorest regions of the US and many of those people have no insurance. How are they going to survive? I wish that I could do more than just send money, I feel very helpless.