Sunday, March 13, 2011
My hair is growing, yay!
The King's Speech, my review
Here's from the IMD Web site:
The story of King George VI of Britain, his impromptu ascension to the throne and the speech therapist who helped the unsure monarch become worthy of it.
The story of King George VI of Britain, his impromptu ascension to the throne and the speech therapist who helped the unsure monarch become worthy of it.
Director:
Tom HooperI LOVED this movie! I highly suggest everyone go see it if you can. I thought it would be boring, but I LOVE the style of the '30's so I watched it. Wow! Was I impressed! No wonder in won so many awards. Coling Firth is impressive as always, his speech thearapist Geoffrey Rush was excellent, and Helena Bonham Carter was stunning, just beautiful. A wonderful feel good movie. :)
Decluttering advice
- When to Declutter: Decide how often you are going to declutter a zone. Do a little every day - use a timer. But be warned - this can become compulsive! Once you get started you will want to clean like a banshee! Don't burn yourself out! Only do small amount at a time. The house did not get dirty overnight and it will not get clean overnight. When you set the timer you can only do two sessions at a time. This goal may seem unattainable right now, but you can do it in little pieces. In a couple of months, the whole house will be decluttered.
- Decluttering Equipment: You will need garbage bags, boxes, magic markers, and a dust rag. Label the boxes "Give Away", "Throw Away", and "Put Away". Line the "Throw Away" box with a plastic garbage bag.
- Set your timer: for 1 hour (or 30, 15, or 10 minutes - it does't matter how long). Just do the job as fast as you can and do not pull out more stuff than you can put away in that length of time. This means just one drawer, one closet (or even one shelf in one closet), one magazine rack, or digging under just the furniture in the zone. Not all of them at once!
- Start at the entrance to the room: Then, work your way around the room clockwise. Do not skip a spot. Whatever happens to be next, just do it.
- Declutter Away! With boxes at your feet and dust rag in your waistband, start off by cleaning out and getting rid of the things that do not belong in this room. Put garbage in the "Throw Away" box, donations in the "Give Away" box, and stuff that goes somewhere else in the "Put Away" box. Don't worry that you do not have a place for everything right now. By the time you finish you will.
- What to declutter? Things to ask yourself as you get rid of your clutter:
- Do I love this item?
- Have I used it in the past year?
- Is it really garbage?
- Do I have another one that is better?
- Should I really keep two?
- Does it have sentimental value that causes me to love it?
- Or does it give me guilt and make me sad when I see the item?
Cleanse this room of everything that does not make you SMILE.
- It needs to be loved by someone and if you don't love it - GET RID OF IT!
- Get rid of the garbage! When the "Throw Away" box gets full, pull out the garbage bag, close it, and put it in the trash can, the pickup truck, or wherever you keep your garbage. Put a new garbage bag in the "Throw Away" box and keep on until the timer goes off.
- Donations: When the "Give Away" box gets full, seal it off, and put it in your car. The next time you are out, you can donate to the area thrift shop. Do not save your clutter for a yard or garage sale, you will be blessed by giving it away. The value can be deducted on your income tax. Remember you are trying to get rid of clutter - not relocate it somewhere else in your home. Now, grab another box, label it "Give Away", and get back to work.
- "Put Away" Stuff: When the "Put Away" box gets full, take the box in your arms and run around the house (good thing you have shoes on - right?) and put the items in the room where they belong. If they have a place, put them there, if not put them in the room where they logically belong. By the time you have finished you will have a place for everything and everything will be in it's place.
- Timer Goes Off: When the timer goes off, you have to put away all the boxes, but first you have to empty them all. Go as fast as you can.
My favorite burlesque styles
I am such a girlie girl, that I admit loving the pink. lacy, frilly outfit's. My favorite is the last one with the ostrich feathers! :)
My sexy guy of the day.....
Brad Pitt, well duh, right? But, I am unusual because I think he's super attractive in Interview With a Vampire:
I adore him in Burn After Reading!:
I want to thrive
Sometime after Crisis Mode, the Cold Numbness of Survival creeps in. You'd think there'd be a marked difference to note, a precise precarious moment when survival mode relaxes or hardens into this blank place of isolation and waiting... But if there is a moment to pinpoint, I didn't notice it.
Some point after the heated frenzy action of police involvement, divorce process, financial assistance, counseling, and the concerned reactions of family and friends, you find you and your frozen heart settling into Life As You Now Know It. Aside from the daily grind of Be Brave And Carry-On For Your Kids, life becomes filled with The Silent Tundra Of Waiting.
You wait for the next day to ease the physical pains. You wait for all the seeds you've planted and forms you've filled out to bear some fruit.You wait for the cold-sweats to go away and leave you alone. You wait for the grades and calls from school to assist you in the evaluation of how well your kids are adjusting. You wait for the nightmares to stop. You wait for the wheels of justice to reach a decision. You wait for the sorrow and grief of loss to pass. You wait for the phone to ring with news -- or at least a call from someone to care how you're doing. You wait for the fear to dissipate. You wait for the weight of the world on your shoulders to lessen. You wait for the next day to bring a little sunshine.
Most of your waiting is done alone. Even if you're around other people, you find yourself wearing that stupid Brave Face -- or risking annoying and alienating others by being The Downer; this in and of itself is an isolating experience.
It's no wonder when each day that the sunshine doesn't come along to warm you, you, if not die a little, find yourself becoming a frozen hard little thing. At least on the inside. The outside is a different beast.
For some of us, the weight we lost during Crisis Mode returns... And more of it too. It's not because we are eating too much; quite the opposite. But whatever we eat clings to us like the ick and fear we feel we are already coated in.
It's like our body is trying to insulate us from the cold. It has the added benefit of keeping male attentions at bay; we don't trust them near us and the fat removes us from the part of the population they'd prey on. (Although, some predators look for the extra flesh as a sign of being the weakest in the herd, so it's not a guarantee of safety; nothing is, really.)
So there you are one night, alone on the sofa after the kids are in bed, fighting off tears and fears and feeling as disconnected from yourself as you can get. You catch the image of yourself reflected in the TV screen and hardly recognize yourself.
Your clothes don't fit -- at least not like they used to. You are all soft and puffy on the outside, but hard and brittle on the inside. You laugh a bitter laugh at yourself, at those shadows that are always around you -- the echoes of their accusations that you are hyper-sexual. (That's a very common accusation thrown at women in court; nothing is as scary as a woman who owns her sexuality nor as inappropriate a parent.) You? This blob on the sofa ready to crack and fall apart? Hyper-sexual? Ha!
But your laughter snaps into tears as you realize you haven't felt like a woman in ages... There's nothing soft about you anymore, not even your tears. But then they, like you, have to fight and force themselves into existence.
Sure, you have your reasons for becoming like this. But the understandable situation is not tolerable.
Your hands seem tied. You have so few resources -- and the children should come first. But you also know that you need to do more than survive if they are to thrive. ...If your goal is for each of them to safely, happily be themselves, how do you best teach this? By example. But that leads back to so few resources. And you're constantly judged for how you use your resources...
You cry harder; the hot anguish of desire and the pain of futility colliding once again in your heart.
After one such long hard cry on the sofa I asked myself what my happier self would look like. I couldn't wave away the weight, in pounds or sadness, but I could feel better somehow... Right? And that's when I lit upon the idea of lingerie.
As long as I've been an adult, I've enjoyed the feeling of lingerie. It was something that, no matter my income level or sexual status, I've always treated myself to. Something that makes me feel alive and glad to be female.
I knew that going to try on my favorite pieces would be another devastating debilitating exercise for my ego, so I gave myself permission to take $5 and got to the thrift store the next day. With $5 I knew I could get at least one vintage slip. And while I couldn't wear that under my daily mom attire, I would be able to wear it while cleaning and lounging around the house. It would be modest enough not to cause any sort of a ruckus in court etc. It would give me something to look forward to. It was something that would feel far more luxurious and pretty than it cost. It would help me to once again enjoy feeling female.
It did.
Just putting a nylon slip on is relaxing; it feels like cool water poured over parched dirty skin. When you wear it, it slinks and slides, reminding you of your female curves. More then just a reminder of your sensual nature, you are reminded of your other womanly ways: your warm generous spirit, your resilient strength, your ability to nourish and nurture -- including yourself.
The slinky nylon gently washed away the aches and pains of my abusive and abrasive life and, at the same time, stroked the female fires -- not (only) in a lusty way, but in the deeper ways, the things you need to be restored and fed in order to feel anything akin to arousal. You have to love and trust yourself, life itself, first. The sensual nature of the slip reminded me to love and forgive myself, nourished my soul so that I had more to give my children (and later a new husband).
You see, with the slip I was romancing myself. After the years of his abuse, his hatred and belittling of me and womankind, after the beatings, in person with his fists and those blows delivered by the court, I was once again celebrating my womanhood.
I do credit slips with helping me find my way back from the dark frozen place. I'm not all the way back or healed, but I continue to wear slips and other lingerie and celebrate myself as a woman.
It was a simple $1.49 cent thrift store slip; but it saved my life. Give one a try yourself and see what it can do for you.
Some point after the heated frenzy action of police involvement, divorce process, financial assistance, counseling, and the concerned reactions of family and friends, you find you and your frozen heart settling into Life As You Now Know It. Aside from the daily grind of Be Brave And Carry-On For Your Kids, life becomes filled with The Silent Tundra Of Waiting.
You wait for the next day to ease the physical pains. You wait for all the seeds you've planted and forms you've filled out to bear some fruit.You wait for the cold-sweats to go away and leave you alone. You wait for the grades and calls from school to assist you in the evaluation of how well your kids are adjusting. You wait for the nightmares to stop. You wait for the wheels of justice to reach a decision. You wait for the sorrow and grief of loss to pass. You wait for the phone to ring with news -- or at least a call from someone to care how you're doing. You wait for the fear to dissipate. You wait for the weight of the world on your shoulders to lessen. You wait for the next day to bring a little sunshine.
Most of your waiting is done alone. Even if you're around other people, you find yourself wearing that stupid Brave Face -- or risking annoying and alienating others by being The Downer; this in and of itself is an isolating experience.
It's no wonder when each day that the sunshine doesn't come along to warm you, you, if not die a little, find yourself becoming a frozen hard little thing. At least on the inside. The outside is a different beast.
For some of us, the weight we lost during Crisis Mode returns... And more of it too. It's not because we are eating too much; quite the opposite. But whatever we eat clings to us like the ick and fear we feel we are already coated in.
It's like our body is trying to insulate us from the cold. It has the added benefit of keeping male attentions at bay; we don't trust them near us and the fat removes us from the part of the population they'd prey on. (Although, some predators look for the extra flesh as a sign of being the weakest in the herd, so it's not a guarantee of safety; nothing is, really.)
So there you are one night, alone on the sofa after the kids are in bed, fighting off tears and fears and feeling as disconnected from yourself as you can get. You catch the image of yourself reflected in the TV screen and hardly recognize yourself.
Your clothes don't fit -- at least not like they used to. You are all soft and puffy on the outside, but hard and brittle on the inside. You laugh a bitter laugh at yourself, at those shadows that are always around you -- the echoes of their accusations that you are hyper-sexual. (That's a very common accusation thrown at women in court; nothing is as scary as a woman who owns her sexuality nor as inappropriate a parent.) You? This blob on the sofa ready to crack and fall apart? Hyper-sexual? Ha!
But your laughter snaps into tears as you realize you haven't felt like a woman in ages... There's nothing soft about you anymore, not even your tears. But then they, like you, have to fight and force themselves into existence.
Sure, you have your reasons for becoming like this. But the understandable situation is not tolerable.
Your hands seem tied. You have so few resources -- and the children should come first. But you also know that you need to do more than survive if they are to thrive. ...If your goal is for each of them to safely, happily be themselves, how do you best teach this? By example. But that leads back to so few resources. And you're constantly judged for how you use your resources...
You cry harder; the hot anguish of desire and the pain of futility colliding once again in your heart.
After one such long hard cry on the sofa I asked myself what my happier self would look like. I couldn't wave away the weight, in pounds or sadness, but I could feel better somehow... Right? And that's when I lit upon the idea of lingerie.
As long as I've been an adult, I've enjoyed the feeling of lingerie. It was something that, no matter my income level or sexual status, I've always treated myself to. Something that makes me feel alive and glad to be female.
I knew that going to try on my favorite pieces would be another devastating debilitating exercise for my ego, so I gave myself permission to take $5 and got to the thrift store the next day. With $5 I knew I could get at least one vintage slip. And while I couldn't wear that under my daily mom attire, I would be able to wear it while cleaning and lounging around the house. It would be modest enough not to cause any sort of a ruckus in court etc. It would give me something to look forward to. It was something that would feel far more luxurious and pretty than it cost. It would help me to once again enjoy feeling female.
It did.
Just putting a nylon slip on is relaxing; it feels like cool water poured over parched dirty skin. When you wear it, it slinks and slides, reminding you of your female curves. More then just a reminder of your sensual nature, you are reminded of your other womanly ways: your warm generous spirit, your resilient strength, your ability to nourish and nurture -- including yourself.
The slinky nylon gently washed away the aches and pains of my abusive and abrasive life and, at the same time, stroked the female fires -- not (only) in a lusty way, but in the deeper ways, the things you need to be restored and fed in order to feel anything akin to arousal. You have to love and trust yourself, life itself, first. The sensual nature of the slip reminded me to love and forgive myself, nourished my soul so that I had more to give my children (and later a new husband).
You see, with the slip I was romancing myself. After the years of his abuse, his hatred and belittling of me and womankind, after the beatings, in person with his fists and those blows delivered by the court, I was once again celebrating my womanhood.
I do credit slips with helping me find my way back from the dark frozen place. I'm not all the way back or healed, but I continue to wear slips and other lingerie and celebrate myself as a woman.
It was a simple $1.49 cent thrift store slip; but it saved my life. Give one a try yourself and see what it can do for you.
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