I Love You Adele ( No Matter What Karl Lagerfeld Said) Pop Cop

English: Adele

Image via Wikipedia

I think Karl Lagerfeld is an ill-mannered ass and yes, I am only one person but I don’t care, I believe it’s true. How dare Karl Lagerfeld call the amazingly talented and beautiful Adele “too fat?” That is downright¬† insulting and to me, not true at all. Yo, Karl, people come in different sizes, not just the model size 0 that you probably find downright fashionable. Not me. I think women should have curves and not look like anorexic, emaciated scarecrows.

Think what you want but saying it out loud, to others, that’s plain rude. You have NO manners. Perhaps you should offer a public and private apology to her and to her fans. Who are you to make that judgment? Have YOU looked in the mirror lately?

Since it’s been published, I don’t care that you once lost weight. Nobody cares. LISTEN to Adele, she has the most amazing voices of all time. Oh, I’m sorry, maybe the older generation doesn’t listen to popular music. All the more reason to keep your big mouth shut tightly and say you are sorry. Adele does not only look beautiful, she sings like an angel. What do you have to say for yourself?

I say boycott. You.

Almost, Almost, Going Home

This photo was taken by myself on October 22,2...
For the past couple of days my husband and I have switched into high gear to expedite getting us OUT of this hotel room and into our small but sweet home (known by one friend as “the construction site.”) It’s been over three months since we lived there, we missed hot summer days and our famous barbeques, the scent of charred hamburgers and chicken wafting through the neighborhood. We also missed the bold, changing colors of leaves, red, orange, yellow, from our favorite tree in the front yard. We had no choice. The house was completely destroyed and we had to leave in a great hurry, before, as our contractor put it, “the bathtub plummeted on its own to the basement.” We were lucky to be alive.

While still living in the hotel, last night we started the process of trying to get rid of as much unwanted stuff and garbage as we could in our house. My lungs have not shaken the massive amount of noxious odors, wood shavings and dust. The industrial cleaners come in soon, but I dare not write when, just in case, they postpone us. Again.

Yesterday, back in the house for four hours, I searched for a little brown wooden dog that had belonged to my dad, named Susie (after my mom.) Finally, in my tiny office, underneath my desk, wrapped in dust and dirt, wood shavings and plaster board filth I found little Susie. Five minutes later I heard “Dance With My Father Again” by Luther Vandross, a song that is like an instant message from my father, in heaven, to me for the last eleven years. I’ve learned to appreciate and accept and love these signs, helped by my friend, Roland Comtois, who channels messages from those who have passed to the living. I haven’t had a sign from my dad since August when, as I drove my son to college for the first time (my husband was having surgery for his Achilles Tendon)¬† I saw the number 3, three times and the letters FBF, three times, my dad’s initials. (My interpretation had been three? 3 what?¬† I soon found out, three months in a hotel, in one room with the whole family and our dog. The last song I heard before I left the house was my favorite song by Adele. The signs were finally all there, dad, in heaven, was telling us we would be going home soon.

We will go back to the broken swing set at the side of our back yard where no one swings anymore or goes down the yellow slide, one child is in college, the other is a senior in high school. We leave the swing set there until we find someone who wants it for their family. It will take many months to find everything we own, scattered underneath beds, in corners, in different rooms, closets and the basement but at least we will be home.

Through reconstruction of the house, the wood, rot and carpenter ants and termites, still lived a neglected and forgotten plant, a Christmas cactus that never has bloomed on time until this year. I saw it from the corner of my eye shining red amongst dying dark green leaves; a true sign of hope.