Writing can be therapy, insanity or both. Here is my mind, my dreams, my fears, my thoughts, my life laid bare to share with you. Enjoy the journey into what is at once my blog, diary and world, and don't forget to tip your guide.
- Top Story - April 2022
Disclaimer: This was originally written in 1980 as a school report. The modeling industry has changed regarding size requirements as well as pay. Read for entertainment purposes. If I made you smile or dream of a glamorous career, please feel free to tip me. (P.s. I did grow up to model some and I loved every minute of it.)
I am a writer
I am a writer. At least that is what I tell myself. And anyone else who will listen. It’s what I have wanted to do my entire life. Well, that is a bit of an exaggeration. I have no idea what I wanted to be when I was a baby laying in my crib staring at the ceiling. But I may have wanted to be a writer even then. To be able to record my thoughts and feelings and the things that I saw. I just didn’t know about writing yet.
What Happened to Class
There was a time not so long ago when people got dressed up to fly on an airplane, when they wore suits and ties and dresses to church, when a night at the theatre was a special event that made you want to dress your best. People behaved and the world was better because of it.
When I was 15 years old I tried to smother myself with a pillow. Not the best way to attempt suicide. In hindsight I realize that all that would have happened would be that I would pass out, relax my grip on the pillow and begin to breathe. I suppose I should have used a dry -cleaning bag instead. Now I am very glad I didn’t.
Mourning in the 21st Century
We aren’t allowed to feel in the 21st century. We have drugs and therapy and talk shows that tell us that strong emotions are wrong and help to keep us in the box of the societal norm of emotionless robots. We are told don’t get upset or make a scene. Don’t act crazy or be too loud. Don’t let yourself go or cry in public. But what about those times when something happens that we need to do just those things? What happens when you lose someone and want to express your grief?
We Have A Choice
The ground is stained red with gallons of blood spilled daily. There is a stench of death lurking in the air. With giant blades men tear flesh from bone in an animalistic manner, slicing each piece into long strips of hide and blubber. This is the world of the whaling factory. The carcass of a sperm whale lies on its side as men tear away the blubber to use for oil. The mouth hangs open as if in a last heartfelt scream of agony before death consumed it. On this cold morning, the men are warmed by the heat rising from the carcass as they slice into it. When the cutting is over, the remains are hauled away to be used for such things as dog food.
Love In Paradise
The waves washed on the beach and ran lightly across the smooth white sand. A lone woman sat on the beach, the water trickling over her toes, the wind tossing her chestnut brown hair across her richly tanned back. She was alone on the beach. It was late at night and the moonlight danced as it glistened over the ripples in the water.
Cobra Kai Musings
Now that we have several seasons of “Cobra Kai” to view and analyze there are even more questions that arise. Firstly, let’s address something that irks me every time I hear it. The joy, amazement a wonder that people project when they talk about Daniel LaRusso being a two time All Valley Karate champ. Yes, that is great that he won back to back tournaments but he wasn’t the only one. How about the guy who one back to back All Valleys just prior to Daniel? His name? Johnny Lawrence. Yes, Johnny meets Daniel in the finals as the defending champ. Yet, somehow, the committee and even Daniel seem to have forgotten this fact. They are equal in trophies. Daniel didn’t have a chance to come back a third time to defend as he aged out of the under 18 requirement. This shows that Johnny was actually younger than Daniel when he won his first All Valley.