Smelling Change

It’s not here yet and I don’t know when it will be here but I sense that something good is on its way. I’m not sure what it is but I do have an idea and believe me, I am running on instinct only. Call it intuition but I’m smiling for the first time in a very long time.

Pretty flowers. Pungent smell (Photo credit: Zaqqy J.)

There’s a very good possibility that I could be wrong. Is there a chance I might be disappointed? Absolutely. Am I still going to publish this? In the past no, but now, definitely.

I take chances now.

I’ll start over and again if it doesn’t happen, I’ll just learn from the experience. Something good will happen sometime. If it isn’t this month or next it will be next year. Something is changing or about to change and I feel the it; I have the oddest feeling inside of me.

Remember the image of Mary Poppins putting her finger up to the sky feeling changes? That’s how I feel. My nose seemed to feel a scent that was different today, true, the weather was hot and sticky yesterday and today we are all shivering from the cold but I don’t think that’s it. I picked up on something, If it wasn’t hope, it was something else, something that is new or that I don’t know about, yet.

I’m patient.

English: Screenshot of Julie Andrews from the trailer for the film Mary Poppins (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I feel okay about this, I don’t feel terrified that I am going to jinx it, like I would have in the past nor do I feel stupid expressing my feelings even if they are just daydreams.

I feel proud for expressing my feelings for something so dubious.

Maybe I will feel disappointed if things change and I go deep into another sorrowful place. Then, I should remember that it took courage for me to even write something that was so personal and out of my comfort zone, that I put the words on this paper, hit “publish” and went ahead. No big deal.

I have lived in fear for too much of my life; it feels good to let go of every piece that I can.

I am buoyant, I can fly, sometimes it’s murky and cloudy, sometimes it’s brilliant and clear.

Whatever the weather, I’m still going to try.

‘Clear Blue Skies’ – Trwyn Du, Anglesey (Photo credit: Adrian Kingsley-Hughes)

 

Outing Mary Poppins (POP COP)

The Sound of Music (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Dear Ms Andrews,

I’ll be honest I can’t  forget that when I was little and bumped into you at FAO Schwartz and my father asked you for your autograph for little, shy, sweet me, you said “NO” coldly and harshly. I heard you. I remember thinking “how could she be so mean? ” Well you were, there were no other people around us but you simply and COLDLY said no, and walked away abruptly. Who would do that to a little girl? Mary Poppins would never do that. Apparently, you had no such problem. I  was devastated that you acted so coldly my dad was furious at my crestfallen face.

However, I still adored your movies: Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music. It is for this reason alone, my loyalty to you as a fan of your movies that I refused to watch Carrie Underwood in the live performance of “The Sound of Music” on television earlier this week.I have always been “brand loyal.” I know all about the Broadway play, my sister saw that but I was devoted to the movie version. I knew every word by heart, I sang every song proudly albeit not in tune.

I wanted to remember Julie Andrews the way she was in the movie I adored her characters and her singing voice and still watched her movies when I was feeling blue or nostalgic. I used to watch that movie many times with my dad and my mom. My mom she was from Germany and my dad from Austria.

I will stay loyal to your movies and to your songs, to the characters you played. They will live on in my mind and heart forever. Just do me a favor, think about how a cold, nasty “no” can stick in someone’s memory after so many years. Your resiliency as an actor speaks loudly of your talent but definitely not of your real character.

I Just Want To Laugh, Really

English: Screenshot of Julie Andrews from the trailer for the film Mary Poppins (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I know you’re smiling, I’m tickling you under your chin, come on, you know you love this movie too. Am I right? Just look at the picture of Mary Poppins, I can tell you are melting. I know every word and song from the original movie “Mary Poppins” and I’m 56 years old. Hopefully you remember it with great fondness like I do or maybe your parents showed it to you, (or dear God, your grandparents.) It is an absolutely FANTASTIC movie and, in my opinion, one of the best made films I have ever seen. It was filmed in the early sixties and I still watch it from time to time. I felt so hum-drum today that I wanted to laugh, I miss laughing.

After looking on Youtube  and finding foul-mouthed comedians, which did not amuse me, I gave up. I gave up until I remembered Mary Poppins and the scene with the laughing man on the ceiling. Sure enough, Youtube (thank you) found it for me. Whenever that man laughed so hard, he flew up in the air. To this day, when I even think about that scene I smile. That glorious feeling when your belly whoops in laughter that comes so fast you can’t take a breath and it actually hurts. Where tears roll down your face and your nose gets kind of snotty, in a good way because no one else is around you. Even writing this is making me smile and believe me, that’s better than nothing. The last time I laughed heartily, I think, was on the phone with one of my kids. I don’t remember what it was about, I just remember the luscious feeling of having laughed so hard. Hey, I’m old and getting old is no fun so you need to forgive a gal. Did I just write “Gal?” I couldn’t sound older even if I tried. Do my children even know that word? I sound old, like a granny in a rocking chair with her white hair tied up in a bun. Whatever. Who cares?

I want to knee-slap, guffaw and double over with laughter. It’s such a serious world, a tremendously serious and dangerous world that I don’t know how to have fun anymore. An old movie? Old reruns of classic TV? You know you are getting older when you watch comedians and when they just curse, word after word, you don’t find them funny just vulgar. Get over it, honey, you need a new schtick, this one is too old and unbecoming. (You know who you are) and you know (Jerry Seinfeld, Ray Romano, Ellen Degeneres) we love you, because you are very funny and seem to be nice people as well. We need that.

The answer? Since I haven’t come up with anything original, I’ll have to pop (pun intended) in the DVD I have of Mary Poppins and watch the movie now. Who can resist? I know I can’t. Watch the clip, join me for a couple of minutes, I hope you laugh.

My Favorite Scary Movie

Not For Me

Disney Jeu D’atout Ducale- Bambi

I HATE scary movies or basically anything scary at all. I don’t watch scary movies and I certainly don’t pay money to be terrified and pee my pants. There’s nothing thrilling about it for me. I feel the same way about roller coasters although I have been coerced to try them. Not anymore. The only thrill I get from going on a roller coaster or potentially watching a scary movie is when it is over and I can jump out of my seat and get the heck out of there. The only scary movie I can count (and depressing too) is Bambi. I don’t think that it’s child-appropriate. Poor Bambi’s mother, I can still hear the gun shot blast in my head. Give me Mary Poppins any day!!

My Most Memorable Birthday- 25!!!

Image by Muffet via Flickr

IT was my 25th birthday, my parents, sister and I went to a fancy restaurant in New York to celebrate. The food was smorgasbord style but I remember looking at layers of thick orange lox, plump, green, salty capers and huge layers of white onions. I had no idea what I was going to eat. I had always been a picky eater so I’m sure I had bread, butter and an assortment of cheese, which is still one of my favorite meals. The only thing I do remember vividly is the end of dinner when our plates were cleared off the table.

It was dessert time, my favorite time, and my favorite chocolate layer cake had been brought in by my parents from The Homestead Gourmet Shop in Queens. Every year I looked forward to MY annual, traditional chocolate layer cake with raspberry jam filling and creamy milk chocolate frosting with perfect, pink script writing that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Roses, pink and green, made out of frosting, adorned the perimeter of my cake.

There were three black and white-clad waiters singing “Happy Birthday” to (an embarrassed) me. All of the waiters were smiling, each had a bright white starched napkin draped over one arm. I remember looking up after I blew out the candles and saw the waiters singing and smiling, reminding me of the penguin clad waiters from Mary Poppins. After a minute, my eyes saw something so unreal that time stood still. One of the waiters was NOT a real waiter at all. It was my beloved “Uncle Teddy” who lived far away in Israel. My father knew he would be in town and my family had arranged for him to surprise me for my birthday, waiter outfit and all. I remember the moment it registered in my brain and I jumped up from my seat and cried with happiness “Teddy!” He came towards me to give me a big hug and from behind his back he produced a bouquet of roses. I will never forget the feeling I had, the sound of my voice as I screamed his name and the sobbing as I stood motionless in time with my very own special “waiter.” He hugged and kissed me, tears streamed down both our cheeks. It was the best birthday I have ever had and one that I will never forget.

…Because That’s Why They Have Xanax

Image by WorthingTheatres via Flickr

It’s all Jonathan’s fault.  No seriously. This dude (NOT my nephew Jonathan) called my Aunt at 10:35 last night pretending he has searched for her because he has always loved her. Romantic? Not so much. He knew her name and of course, instead of just hanging up on him, she engaged him. (‘Auntie Joan, its not the 60’s anymore.’) Afterwards, she freaked out  and kept the phone in her bed and ever since then weird things have happened in MY home. Lights are buzzing mysteriously, the oven is playing drums while it is baking Ghiradelli chocolate brownies and my daughter’s confident voice sounds timid like a sleepy mouse with slippers.  Something is going on and I am not sure what it is. I admit it, the brownies are frightening me and the washing machine is terribly noisy with a beat like swish-swish, a-swish, yes, you heard me, swish-swish, a-swish. It’s as if the dirty laundry is sneezing it’s resentment straight through the walls and into my agitated shell-like ear drums.

I am trying to breathe deeply but it is not working. I look for toothpicks and come up with a cow bell; I am trying to act like a grown-up but I am spooked.  Sure, I could reach for the anti-anxiety pills but this is too disturbing for even that. I’m too anxious to take an anti-anxiety pill.  Do I sound vaguely like Charlie Sheen?  I feel sorry for him in one way because I really do think he needs help although he could just be a friggin’ genius putting us all to shame and running to the bank with buckets of dough. Neither option is good. “Charlie, get some help and don’t even think of doing a reality tv show.”

I watched   “Nanny McPhee” today and I do think they need a warning label for adults. First, did they not realize that it is a plain rip off from both “Mary Poppins” and “The Sound of Music” intertwined with LSD or perhaps some crack cocaine? That movie, for scary pups like me, should not be watched alone. (Do you hear that Tammy Lou?!)

Thank goodness the Ghiradelli brownies are done so I can escape the scary kitchen and go upstairs to hide. The FedEx guy just appeared like a shadow until my dog started barking furiously as if there was an imminent threat. Am I watching too much TV? I’m not talking comedy shows like the impeccable “Modern Family” or the lovely, realistic show “Parenthood” not even “The Celebrity Apprentice.” (Wait, did I hear something about Donald Trump wanting to run for President or was it another victim of my overworked and anxious mind?) I did see a flash of the news today, the real news and even watching it for two minutes made it leech into my brain and stay there giving “fear” company for “anxiety.”

I should practice the art of meditation. Do I really need to learn how to meditate? I mean do I actually need to pay money (at this point I think there’s no denying it) to teach me to cross my legs and breathe deeply, in and out, in and out, exuding calmness and harmony? Shouldn’t breathing be a natural process? I can make up my own “mantra.” Thank you.

I am trying to calm down, I shouldn’t watch those “scary” movies all alone at my ripe old age of 54. Next time I want to be scared silly, I will order “Nanny McPhee Returns” ( I actually can’t wait) from Netflix and take half a Xanax beforehand. We live in an insane world, how could we possibly feel sane all the time? It doesn’t work; I’m the example. Tonight I will eat calming foods, such as: the meatloaf I made yesterday drowned in ketchup, rice with butter and salt, and mango peach applesauce. I’ll be fine after that, I hope.