Red Mosquito’s Neighborhood

Why hello there!

If you've been on Twitter the last few weeks you'll have noticed about 1,000 "COME VISIT WE'RE STREAMING LIVE! LIVE I TELL YOU!!!" tweets from various people.

At first I was annoyed. WHY would I want to see you live? I barely know you! This is all moving too fast! Next thing you know you'll be wanting to leave a freakin' toothbrush over here and have your own drawer!

But now I totally get it. It's freakin' fun. I'll be trying to do one every night, so, come by and visit! I'll be posting on BitchBuzz's Twitter whenever we'll be going live on Qik.

That's it, I'm blaming the peri-menopause. I mean, I have a doctor's note and everything. ::sigh:: I'm not saying I'm on my "periodical" as Pa Kettle calls them. It's just hit-and-run rage and hot flashes. So, excuse me if I totally lose my shite.

On a forum about iPhones, I simply went nuts.

The poster, supposedly a female adult, was decrying the lack of apps for girls.

Purple flowers

Think about that because I'm a fairly girlie-girl kind of saccharine-sweet freak

Rosie Gets it Done!

At the same time, I don't like being looked down upon for having a proper balance of X's -as in chromosomes

The whine about "no apps for girls" was enough to send up a red flag but I read on. She gave about 5 ideas, including something that could tell the girl-user how to color-coordinate her wardrobe. Excuse me? Okay, for one if we're being sexist, I'd argue that most women do better than most men when it comes to putting clothes together. Men don't care. -I'm old, these new-fangled metro-sexuals might care and that's fine but I'm saying in general

I tried to click away, my usual response to crap that ticks me off. I usually don't give it another thought but sometimes I'll post about it here or tell a friend if it stays in my brain long enough. What did I do, today?

I was mean. I'm not proud. I'm ashamed and I can't take it back. It's out there.

I asked "her" if the post was meant to be controversial. -because it sure as hell felt like it

I proceeded to call myself a girlie-girl type of person who found the mention of "apps for girls" insulting...I must be a smidgeon smarter than I had previously imagined and while I have always considered myself to have a poor self-esteem, at least I haven't yet resorted to having my iPhone tell me what to wear in the morning.

I ended with,

"Sorry, I'm acting like a girl."

I had some dreadful dreams last night. And they both had the same storyline to it. Pancreatic cancer.

I've heard many things about this horrible disease. Back when I was married, I became friends with some already friends that my ex-husband knew. I was a bridesmaid in their wedding. We had holiday barbeques and were even together during the Janet Jackson "slip" we all know on the Super Bowl. I really felt we had become somewhat of a family. The guys mom, whom I will call Lorraine, often told me that she didn't like how my ex treated me. She was the only one who ever said anything, and for that I completely respected her. "Lorraine" even threw me a little birthday party at her place, with everyone invited. She treated me like I was her own.

After my split, the friends and I never saw each other again (and I had no reason to contact Lorraine. ) And then they simply avoided my calls altogether. Why, exactly, I don't know. Understandably, their loyalty lies with my ex. But deep down, it hurt that they decided to drop the friendship.

In mid 2007, for whatever reason, I started googling random people. Lorraine was one of them. I originally wanted to get her address to just send her a little note saying hello.

What I found was her obituary.........from two months prior.

Though I felt immense sadness for her family (because I knew how close her son and his wife were to her), I was maddened. Maddened to the point of tears. Why couldn't my ex tell me what was going on? So I called him. She had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer less than a month before she passed away. I was heartbroken. Such a wonderful woman. Gone. I expressed my anger at him for not telling me. I couldn't understand why he and his friends couldn't put aside whatever issue they had with me so I could pay my respects to someone who meant something to me.

I swallowed my pride, and went out and bought a condolence card and mailed it to the friends that I no longer spoke to. And I still never heard from them.

About a month ago, I borrowed "The Last Lecture", and was immediately captivated by the author and his story. It's heart wrenching and inspiring. I often check his website on how he's doing (as he posts regularly about his condition), but sadly he hasn't updated in a month. I emailed a colleague he had mentioned on his website inquiring as to how he's doing (and pointing out that he hasn't updated). In response, II was told that though he doesn't regularly speak to his colleague, the simple fact that he hasn't updated in this long is not a good sign. I will keep Randy in my prayers.

I suggest that if you haven't read his book yet, you MUST. I also suggest watching his "Last Lecture". If anything inspires you to live life to the fullest, it's that.

Things I am Loathing today:

• Arguments.
• Interrupted sleep.
• Wookie Girl, Trash... Half of it made it out to the curb...
• Lack of patience.
• A to-do list that seems to grow exponentially.
• Guilt trips
• The blame game
• DRAMA
• Court: See also DRAMA, above.
• Anxiety
• Stress

Things I am Loving today:

• New carpet
• Getting the ceiling drywall done
• Kids helping out around the house without having to yell at them.
• Grandkids. Even when they are standing naked in the middle of the room, peeing on the floor.
• Family cookouts
• Kids taking responsibility for their own lives and problems
• Dad's health is stabilized with the help of a few medicines
• Visitation with the Granddaughter
• Hugging my wife and having her hug me back
• Watching the one year old Grandson wave and say, "HI!!!"
• Finishing prep work in the second bedroom so I can now hang the ceiling drywall
• Birthday parties.

Tagged by Connie.

If you could choose one ability, what would it be out of the options here?

• Combust or explode things with your own will.
• Command the wind.
• Move the earth beneath your feet.
• Phase through Walls.
• Flashstep or some would call it shadow step.
• Use forces of telekinesis.
• Manipulate water and ice.
• Shoot Lightning at your fingertips.
• Create and control fire.
• Engage in telepathy.
  

And if you wish, find one picture, any picture (doesn't have to be you) of how you might be using this chosen power of yours. You don't have to find it if you don't wish to :) This part is optional.

Mind

Such interesting things to think about. How could you use any of these for the betterment of mankind, your own evil purposes, or maybe just the occaisional help getting through the workday. I think that what power you choose would be as important as how you would utilize it. For me, I think I would be more inclined towards telepathy. I could see great benefits for this by aiding those who need it most. By being able to enter their minds, I could help them overcome fears, aid those with OCD, Autism and numerous other mental disabilities and disorders. I'd also be able to determine when someone is lying and get to the bottom of the truth without a bunch of questions. The possibilities are endless. Sure, manipulating water would be cool, so would being able to make dirt move itself, but for the greater good, in my opinion, it would be in helping those whose need is great and where help is extrememly limited.

Imagine, if you will, a small clinic with a huge waiting room. I would see people all day long in this clinic. Maybe even use a motorhome, traveling to where I feel people need me most. Then imagine, a child with Autism, being able to lead them through the tangled web of their own mind and helping them to come back to the real world, back to their faimilies and interact with society again. Imagine being able to communicate with someone in a coma and help them rise to consciousness again, to aid them in becoming whole again, to relay their families love for them at that moment. These and many other scenarios would definitely make a difference in people's lives.

Now take this idea and couple it with the pay it forward principle, doing something for three other people that they normally couldn't or wouldn't do for themselves. For every one person I helped, I would ask that they help three others in their time of need to the best of their abilities. That would cascade into miliions of people helped over a lifetime and increase the amount of positive energy in our universe exponentially. I could really deal with all that positive energy.

The other part would be to utilize my powers as a human lie detector. I could hire out for court cases where they would ask a simple series of questions and I could tell them true or false. Think of the people sitting in prisons now that didn't do the crime, yet are guilty until proven innocent. People who are asked to cop to a plea, jsut because they have a bad background and serving five years is less than fifty, even though they didn't do it. I could make rounds of all the prisons and spend a couple days a month seeing prisoners, making sure their rights aren't being trampled upon.

Yes, I think out of all the powers, this would definitely be the best fit for me. And a dandy thing for everyone else in need as well. I'm sure you know at least one person who could be helped with my powers, perhaps you'd like to write about that person and how my powers could help them. That would be a neat ending to this little exercise...

Mumsfault

1 comment

What part of your childhood do you miss the most?
Submitted by Maretta

Before attaining the majority, I moved out and began living without the stuff that would've put my parents in prison for doing to me.

That was great. Then, I had to start busting my arse through university (paying my own way and keeping up academic scholarships). My time in high school was the most like what other people have when they go away to college. I just had a part-time job and high school. What pain is that? Well, other than high school was a ridiculous waste of time but compared to age 0-15, it was a dream-come-true.

We use to pick blackberries together, her and I.  I didn't like blackberries, but it was fun picking them along the railroad tracks beside our apartment complex.  Our fingers would be stained deep purple, her tongue and lips would match.  I still like rasberries better.

She had chubby cheeks and the sweetest smile.  Made even sweeter by the silver caps in the front.  You never see kids with silver caps anymore... I guess they use something else now?  We weren't suppose to walk by the railroad tracks, but my mom didn't seem to be around much during the day when we were out playing.  As long as we were home by the time the street lights came on, we were free to play at our own pleasure.  (Not something we as parents have the luxury of doing today).

"Mandy, you want to play Barbies with me?"

Sigh.  Faintly I was tempted to go play my favorite game with my little sister, but then again, I was 10 now.  I was too old for Barbies.

"Let's play Flashdance instead"

"No, you always hog the living room floor"

We would bicker back and forth like this all the time.  We didn't really have anyone else to play with, but with five years age difference between us, there was little choice.  We were stuck together.  Most of the time I was annoyed by her constant presence.  Sometimes I was grateful to not be alone.

Especially late at night.  In the dark. 

Or when I came home from school and my mom was crying in a corner.  Overwhelmed by life and betrayal.  I'd take my sister's hand and we would go outside into a world of make believe.  Where we could be anything we wanted and go wherever our imaginations could take us.  Far away from being poor and sad. 

I use to hold her down, pinning her arms under my knees, straddling her and tickling her until she nearly peed her pants.  She would squeal.  I loved the feeling of power and dominance I had.  Sad, but oh so true.  Little did I know she would grow up to be about 5 inches taller than me.  I wouldn't attempt that trick now, I assure you.

But I was fiercly loyal and protective as well.  One day, two little nieghborhood girls yanked my sweet little sister from her big wheel bike by the hair of her head.  I was sitting on the top of the stairs playing when I witnessed this.  I ran down them two at a time and yanked one of the little girls off the bike by her pigtails and grabbed the other one by the hand and told them to never touch my sister or her things again or I'd make them very very sorry they did.

They ran away crying.  Straight to their mom.  About 15 minutes later, a very large woman with over-bleached blond hair and blood-red finger nails grabbed me by the arm and started yelling at me about being a role model and not bullying little babies (ha, her "babies" were the biggest bullies in our apartment complex).  I christened her "Bleachy Mama."

She had the intended effect though.  She scared the crap outta me.  I ran home and told my mother what happened.

The next chain of events will be forever carved into my memory.  My 95 pound (if that) mom grabbed a baseball bat from our toy box and stomped down our stairs towards Bleachy Mama's apartment, with me and my sister following at her tail. 

Banging on the door with the bat (nice one Mom!) she had the fiercest look in her eye (don't mess with a Mama Bear's cubs).  I don't remember my mother's exact words to Bleachy Mama, but it was somewhere along the lines of "don't touch or talk to my daughters again or I'll kick your fat ass".  Actually I am pretty sure those were her exact words. 

The two little girls stood behind there mama with wide eyes.  I am sure we had a similiar look on our faces as this all transpired.  Then Bleachy slammed the door in my mom's face and we went home.

Funny thing is, about 3 months later... we were all best friends, picking blackberries together by the railroad tracks.  I ended up teaching one of those little girls how to dance to my Cyndi Lauper tape I dubbed off the radio.  They never asked to ride my sister's big wheel and I don't ever remember seeing Bleachy Mama again.