I have a whole list of clothes I will never wear again – or have never worn. However, I suspect my list is not exactly normal, so help me out here.
Tell me what you would NOT wear.
Here’s my list of what I won’t wear:
- Jeans – I don’t like the feel of denim. I’ve never worn jeans. I know that’s odd.
- Flip flops – I don’t like the sound they make, but my main objection is that I don’t like the thong thingee between my toes. It bugs me.
- Shorts – this is almost self-explanatory, but I no longer have the legs for shorts. Besides, I have some scars on my legs I’d rather not show.
- Halter tops or something that shows my midriff – I’m so old fashioned. I just don’t like to bare that much of my skin in public. Now, in private, ahem, that’s another matter entirely.
So, what’s on your list?
I stumbled onto these lovely flowers one day, then read the article that accompanied them. They aren’t flowers at all, but carefully constructed crystals photographed under an electron microscope.
They reminded me of the crystal gardens we used to make as children, but with a great deal more patience – and much, much more skill.
Here’s the article on how it was done.
528 years after he died, Richard III is still making news.
If I may confess: I’m not a Shakespeare scholar. I love Macbeth but I’m not that well versed in Shakespeare’s other work.
However, I couldn’t help but think of Shakespeare last September when archeologists announced the discovery of what they thought was King Richard III’s skeleton beneath a parking lot in Leicester. The skeleton evidently showed signs of scoliosis (he wasn’t a hunchback). Battle wounds, still visible on the skeleton, matched those he was supposed to have suffered in the War of the Roses.
On February 4, 2013 archeologists announced that it was definite – the bones were those of the much maligned king.
Richard III, if you remember your history, was supposed to have been responsible for the deaths of the two princes locked up in the Tower of London. In 1674, during renovations to the White Tower, skeletons of two children were found beneath the staircase. In 1933, their graves in Westminster were opened and tests indicated that they were of the right age to have been the lost princes.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Richard III was feeling a little exposed at the moment. Then, my mind immediately sequed to Shakespeare’s play, Richard III. Two quotes seem particularly apt:
“Now is the winter of our discontent.” and “So wise so young, they say, do never live long.”
You know what I think is even more fascinating than finding Richard III’s skeleton? The man died in 1485. He’s 528 years old and he’s still making news.
What’s your favorite time in history?
Are you a Shakespeare buff?
When I returned from the hospital after my spectacular klutz attack, I closed the bedroom door and let Flash loose in the bedroom with me. In other words, I didn’t put him behind the gate that leads to his mini-bedroom.
Flash wouldn’t stop whining. He was very disturbed. He came and sat on the floor beside me, walked around, sat beside me again, and woofed at me. Finally, I asked my son to put him behind his gate.
He was one happy camper. Evidently, he wanted his little nook, even though it was confined.
I wondered if people are the same.
When I worked for The Big Bank, I had a cubby. I think my cubby could be considered both a prison and a haven. I liked that I had some space marked out as mine but there was NO privacy. The walls weren’t very high so you could see and hear everything.
My office today is a haven but after being on a deadline for a few weeks it might be considered a prison.
How about you? Do you have a nook that’s one or the other – or both?
I really want a Happy Ever After (HEA) everywhere I go to be entertained – in my reading, in my movie watching, and TV.
I know life isn’t all that happy sometimes, that’s why I want a little escapism. In the reveal shows on TV, I’ll fast forward to the new kitchen, the new bath, the new restaurant. I want to see the delight and the wonder on the participants’ faces.
I like most contestant shows because, although someone loses every week, there’s always an ultimate winner. That’s why I watch The Next Great Baker, for example.
When I read I have to be emotionally invested in the characters. When I watch TV it’s the same way. I cry when I see other people crying. I root for the person I like on cooking shows. This emotional investment is also one of the reasons I can’t get into shows like The Bachelor, for example. I don’t like the premise. Ergo, I’m not fond of the participants. I don’t care about them. Same with the Real Housewives or the Bridezilla shows. If I do watch them, I’m rolling my eyes most of the time.
But when I think I won’t be getting an HEA when I expected one, I find myself getting antsy.
Or I do what I did the other night.
I was reading the first book in a new series by an an author who’s been a little iffy to me. I loved the first book in another series he wrote. The second book ended with the hero (who, up until this point, I really liked) having three-way sex. Okay, that just turned me off. A hero, in my mind, doesn’t do that. Call me a fuddy-duddy. Call me a Southern Belle. Whatever.
In this book in the new series, there’s a succubus or an incubus, or one of the buses that comes onto the heroine, then transforms and comes onto the hero (you can gather the book is a paranormal). When the succubus is banished, it says something like, “But you like girls, too, right?” to the heroine.
After the succubus leaves, the hero turns to the heroine:
“So, it’s true that you bat for both teams?”
“Yes, I’m bisexual. Is that a problem?”
It might not be a problem for the hero, but it was a book ender for me.
NOT because the heroine was bisexual. It’s not my place to pass judgment on anyone else. But when I read, I read for an HEA.
With a bisexual character as the heroine, I know I’m not going to get my definition of an HEA. Maybe we’ll have the hero, heroine, and another woman walking into the sunset and that’s just fine if that’s what you expect and want.
Me? I want the hero and the heroine walking into the sunset alone, knowing they’ll be faithful to each other. The HEA is so important to me that it stopped me from finishing the book.
To the author’s credit, he didn’t bill the book as a paranormal romance. I guess I just thought of a book where there’s a strong male and female lead as a romantic setup. It’s my fault for not digging deeper.
But what do YOU think?
Do you want an HEA in all aspects of your entertainment?
Is there any situation that would stop you from reading a book – knowing that you won’t get your HEA?
Or are there TV shows you won’t watch because you know they don’t end well?