I stumbled on this message on the Huffpost via Reddit. A guy found it on the ground and posted it.
I can’t tell you how this sort of thing makes me love the world. Because it’s just funny. And real. And true. And I thought it was cool to find on the internet, but I would have really thought it was cool if I’d found it on the ground. Nice to get some acknowledgement, you know?! So, to all of you out there, who have made it through all the world has thrown at you and all it has gracefully placed in front of you, you go, motherfuckers, you are indeed AWESOME!
Sometimes I like to live in a pretend world where everybody’s best selves are always showing. I think how amazing it would be if we all had lives that allowed us to give, instead of worry how much we could amass. Or that we all had enough, so we could stop having to carry around so much fear over not being able to pay for mortgages, or food, or medical care.
I found this story on the Huffpost. I LOVE that this wedding planner organized a total give-a-thon to create a wedding for this bride. This is a story of pure heart. This is the kind of thing that makes everybody involved a better person. This is what should happen more.
I rarely feel better than when I’m giving something to someone. I feel best when it’s a surprise, or goes a little above and beyond in the giving department. I like to make the give something personal, whether it’s time or a tangible something, or an idea. But I could give more. And that would be better. We could all give a little more. And it feels like it would be medicine for the whole world. I wonder why we don’t? As the wedding planner in the story, said, she wanted to do something extraordinary. Don’t we all?
I’m going to think hard on this. I love it so much, that I’m going to think hard about the whole idea. I”m grateful for having read it. It’s making me think. In a really good way…….stay tuned.
Look, I’m going to just say it. I think I have a crush on the Pope. Preface: I am not a Catholic, although my mom was and most of the family and friends I grew up around were and are. I have major issues with the Church, from their widespread sexual abuse of children, to their views on abortion, women, and homosexuality. But let’s just leave my massive differences with this institution aside for a moment.
The 76 year old Pope got three million people to gather/rally/party on World Youth Day in Rio. That’s bigger than a Taylor Swift concert. Larger than Woodstock. Not even close to Occupy Wall Street. This dude can sell out an arena! The Pope, in his glowing little Pope mobile, stopped several times to kiss babies on his ride through the streets. The Pope donned a sombrero! HOW CAN YOU ARGUE WITH HIS FASHION SENSE–A SOMBRERO!
Also, notable, the Pope told young people they should go out in the streets and ask better of their countries, as long as they do so peacefully. He also said, “If someone is gay, who searches for the Lord and has goodwill, who am I to judge?” What? Did you know they named you Pope, dude? Get with the program.
Is it me, or is this a very different front guy for the Catholic Church? They have a ton of work to do before they can be trusted and forgiven, but Pope Francis, Pope Francis is a God damn (sorry) good start.
This isn’t my dog, but maybe I should get another one? It’s been that kind of crap summer.
i am still having massive tooth pain from this infection/re-root canal. I have been eating ice cream and doing drugs since Wednesday night. While that might sound fun to some, it is not my idea of awesomosity. I might be feeling a tiny bit sorry for myself. What with the shit weather on the Vineyard and the tooth, and the family tension around the college bound son, this is the summer of my discontent. As soon as I get better, I am going to go into overdrive, and turn things around. You watch. I’m going to make this one great summer.
For now, I am considering another dog because of this video. Not really, but sort of.
I am still having awful tooth pain, but GRATITUDE to all the scientists who worked on making Hydrocodone and Advil. Without them, you’d hear me screaming through cyberspace.
Maybe Weiner could have a new career in meteorology?
As a frequent chicken eater, this article was really tasty, I mean, helpful.
He didn’t do much I liked when he was president, but this, THIS makes me love the guy.
I am not a huge “royal watcher,” but I found it absolutely adorable to see Kate and Will leave the hospital with George. Also, I loved that Kate was so willing to show off her post-baby bump, which I hid in a giant sweater and leggings when I left the hospital. She probably just helped millions of woman not to feel so bad about still looking preggers after having the baby.
Saturday Night Live is funny, but it’s even funnier when the characters laugh, too.
I know I shouldn’t like the song “Blurred Lines,” but it’s the most perfect dance song ever. This is a pretty funny take-off though, especially for a dogophile, like moi.
Two days ago I woke up with a toothache. I took some Advil and waited. It persisted. I took some Aleve and I waited. Then I called my dentist, but he couldn’t see me until yesterday at 3:45. I have had a bad back since I was in my early 20’s, I have had multiple surgeries for infertility. I have had two babies. But this pain, this pain was an Olympic Gold medal winner.
So, I go see Mark, my dentist of 20 years, who says he thinks I may have cracked the root of a molar which has a very old cap and root canal. The solution: you pull the tooth. And while that news freaked me out, I was sort of like, “Well, can you pull it now, this minute?” That’s how much pain I was in. But Mark’s not sure, not 100% positive. So, he calls an edodontics guy and asks if he might be able to see me. It’s 4:30. Yes, he will slip me in. I head for Wellesley during rush hour with my tooth throbbing, willing to have all my teeth pulled if it will abolish the pain.
The receptionist is exceptionally nice and calls me Miss Toni. The dental assistant is also sweet. And the endodontist is calm and patient and immediately tells me that I have an infection in the bottom of the root of my tooth, because the root canal wasn’t done properly and bacteria has collected. At 5:15, it’s decided I will have to have another root canal. I feel terrible that everybody will have to stay late because of me, and I start thanking them profusely, while I cry. Yes, it was pain so severe that I was actually HAPPY to have a root canal. The minute the novocaine goes in, I’m free and the pain is a distant memory. It takes an hour and 15 minutes of having my mouth open, while my body is so stiff, I could have been mistaken for a corpse. Dr. Miller is happy because he is actually able to reach the very bottom of the root, which he wasn’t sure he would be able to accomplish. This is good news. The bad news is that the pain is not going to go away for at least two more days. He will give me pain medication, in addition to an antibiotic for the infection.
I hate drugs. They usually make me nauseas, but in this case, I am thinking I need to at least have them on hand. I go home and eat some soup, because I can’t chew. I take my Advil dose and my antibiotic. I’m sore, but ok. And then, like a flash flood, it hits. The pain is back. I take one of the Hydrocodone. It lessens within 10 minutes to a bearable level. I go to bed woozy and watch tv with Ally. But the pain is getting worse again, so I take another Hydrocodone. I fall asleep. I wake up at 3:30 with the most searing pain, I am sobbing and writhing like I have had a limb amputated. I take two more Hydrocodone and three Advil. I finally fall asleep.
And here I am, having already ingested my Advil and antibiotic. Getting ready for next round of pain meds, and hoping against hope that I wont’ need them, but at least I have them and they work. Good God, I am grateful for Dr. Les Miller of Wellesley and his very nice team, and office with exceptionally nice floors (they were a light wood I’d never seen before and while the pain was brutal, these things don’t get by me). Gratitude doesn’t even begin to touch it (and speaking of touching it, even my tongue couldn’t touch this tooth without intense pain). Anyway, my deepest thanks to the good Doctor. And oh yeah, a shout out to Hydrocodone, too.
Today my gratitude goes to my husband, who does not text his penis to other women. Or to me, for that matter (for which I am endlessly thankful).
How is it that Anthony Weiner (and by the way, if you wrote a book and had a character with the last name of Weiner, who couldn’t stop sexting his “thing” all over town, nobody would believe it, right?) who’s running for New York City’s mayor, decided to put himself back into pubic life, when he knew that his sexty ways were not entirely behind him?
Call me old fashioned, or just old, but I like my sexual interactions to be in person. But if I didn’t, and I was in politics, I would not be sending my sexy self to anyone, let alone someone who was not my wife, for fear that I might be damaging my career. Oh yeah, and if I were married, I wouldn’t be doing it at all. So, it seems to me that Anthony Weiner, aside from just being a cheating creep, has some seriously bad judgement. He apologized the first time he got caught sexting, and stepped down from his post in Congress, but he continued sexting after that resignation, under the name of “Carlos Danger.” He had the “danger” part down alright. Is this a guy you want heading up one of the country’s biggest cities? I wouldn’t want him running anything, except, like maybe a porn shop, which I think he would do really well.
I do believe that I should not judge his wife, Huma. They have their own private relationship, and political partnership, and that’s their own business. If she forgives him, I respect her feelings. But she must really love that dude, or he has given her a promise of unlimited jewelry for life, to be able to stand up for him and his cheating. I am not such a good woman (although a little jewelry goes a long way with me).
What is it with men and power? Why does it so often show up in sexually careless ways? Is it like the old dog joke: “Why does a dog lick his balls? Answer: Because he can.”
Sex is good. Sex is great. But poor judgement is bad. And Anthony Weiner has that. He should send that piece of information to all his twitter followers, with a picture of his face, not his penis.
A few weeks ago, during my bad weather-cation, my friend Colleen and I were sitting on the beach having our coffee, and we noticed two ant holes. I promise there wasn’t anything in our mugs except coffee, sugar and milk, but we got sort of mesmerized by these ants and their work ethic. Each one went into the hole and came back out carrying a piece of sand that sometimes looked bajillion times the size of their little bodies. It was a perfect dance of industry. Back and forth they traveled, as Colleen and I discussed their commitment and efficiency.
I was reminded of the movie Antz, which was one of my kid’s favorites. I was trying to describe it to Colleen and couldn’t remember the name (duh!) One of the big scenes is a little pep talk to the totalitarian society members. They are building something and all banding together in a ball, when one the head foreman says to the group, “Be the ball, “meaning, give in, go with it, commit.
I love that kind of “all in” effort, when people work together to achieve. But I also like the dreamers, the guys with another plan in mind, the rogue geniuses. As we watched the ants, it was clear that some would stray. I wondered if these were the creative bugs, the seekers, the Steve Jobsians, looking for a different sort of thing, or whether they simply lost their way.
As amazing as it was to see how these ants created these two new homes (which we humans could destroy in one footstep) it was even more amazing how captivated the two of us were watching a bit of nature up close and personal. It seemed such a microcosm of the world. And we both took aways some lessons. Gratitude for nature’s smallest moments. They’re all over the place, sometimes just below the surface, waiting to teach us whatever we’re willing to learn.
*the gratitude-a-thon 