Freedom of Voice

For some reason, the idea of mirrors keeps presenting itself to me. Planted by movie trailers and songs, the word mirror  whispers in my ear. It made me think of Sylvia Plath's "Mirror"   (linked for your reading pleasure). The first time I read it was the year I taught English II for the first time. I was instantly drawn to it, but couldn't help but wonder what the publisher expected a bunch of 15- and 16-year-olds to take from it.  I tried anyway. I failed. Not an epic fail (I think a couple of girls related, but my class was boy-heavy), but not a roaring success. Yet the poem always sticks with me. I am not cruel; only truthful.  I know that the mirror is an inanimate object, a simple reflection of what stands before it.  But, add the human element, all of the vanity, the obsession with looks, the self-deprecation, and it comes to life. Confession time.  Although now I try so hard not to pass judgment on people's fashion choices, I have in...

I remember, back when my kids were in their Nickelodeon phase, watching the Amanda Bynes show. She was a younger version of Carol Burnett. One skit that still cracks me up is Procrastinator  .  Her signature line is, "I will get to it, e-v-e-n-t-u-a-l-l-y!" Oh, Amanda. We have lots in common.  I have two sides: the rip the bandaid off side and the ultimate procrastinator side. I've come to the realization that when something is undesirable but relatively quick to accomplish, I just rip off the bandaid and wash my hands of it. But, when the task is large and looming, I wait until I don't have a choice and then work feverishly to get it done. And, get it done I do. I work well under pressure. But, a few problems do arise from this modus operandi: I put myself in stressful situations, unnecessarily; I squander precious time; and I make stupid mistakes that I have to backtrack to fix. It's something I really need to work on. And, I'm sure I...

"Rock And Roll" by Led Zeppelin It's been a long time since I rock and rolled, It's been a long time since I did the Stroll. Ooh, let me get it back, let me get it back, Let me get it back, baby, where I come from. It's been a long time, been a long time, Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time. Yes it has.  The rest of the lyrics to this awesome song don't really fit my current situation, but it's the song that came to my head as I thought about how long it's been since my fingers tapped on my keyboard to write something---anything---for this blog.  It's been a long time. I can't blame anyone, anything, but myself. Yes, I've been busy, but I have also squandered many an opportunity to write when I had some down time. Instead, I chose to sit on my couch watching re-runs of my favorite shows.   So, today, a mere 20 minutes before I am expecting a client, I sit in my office, tickety tapping away....

Sometimes you just need a perspective check. And, most of those times, you probably won’t even realize it.   Enter serendipity. Today, my partner and I got our much needed reality check. Right upside our heads. It was a particularly rough morning, and after feeling pretty defeated and beat up, we jumped in the car to head to Pathways to PACE to hear more about the center and the impact it has on girls’ lives.  Ten minutes into it, we knew in our hearts that we had to be a part of this program. Before the girls even came in to speak, we were circling supplies to donate from the Amazon wish list, taking notes on the impressive stats, and scratching ideas down. I got teary-eyed a few times. I figured Kathleen was doing the same  but couldn’t even look at her for fear of losing it. As the director announced the girls were ready, I grabbed a tissue from my bag in anticipation of the waterworks.  Thank God I didn’t bawl, but I did have to wipe away a...

When I was a kid, VD was the acronym for venereal disease. We've progressed since then to the more inclusive term, STD (sexually transmitted disease). Now VD refers to Valentine's Day, much better  than the alternative, V-Day. If my husband could wear this, he would. I was reading the comics as I do every morning, because, hey, I like to start my day with a chuckle. Pearls and Swine was a hilarious tribute to all those who hate the Hallmark holiday ( see it here ). In it, Rat is pressuring Stephan to use his strip to advocate for something, and he thought an anti-Valentine's Day campaign, complete with "No VD signs" was the way to go. After all, "It's a stupid holiday and nobody likes it." As I enjoyed my chuckle, reality hit: I live with Rat. Funny how art imitates life. I am not saying he can't be romantic or doesn't show his feelings, but he definitely gives two thumbs down to Valentine's Day. He hates it---going as far as sa...

Typically, on the occasions, yes occasions, I have put my underwear on inside out, it is because I was rushing to get to school, practically dressing in the dark in the wee hours of early morning, stressing before my day even began. And, typically, I would flip them right side in when I noticed the faux pas. Today is different. I woke up at the hour I used to leave for work, walked and fed my pooch, headed to the gym for a productive 62-minute stint on the elliptical machine, did some household chores, checked Facebook, exchanged texts with a couple of friends, made breakfast, and got ready at a leisurely pace before rolling into the office--- my office---at 9 am. Yet, somehow, I still managed to put my panties on inside out.  Normally, inside-out skivvy days weren't good days. They were days when I had too much on my platter, not enough hours in the day or days in the week to take sizable bites out of the extra large servings.   But, today? Today is diffe...

You read the title correctly. On the day filled with salutations of "Happy New Year," I was in a crappy mood, spreading my bitchiness like smooth peanut butter on soft white bread. Way to go, Annmarie. It all started with a morning walk with John, a normal day off or weekend occurrence. My feet hurt only a few steps into the stroll (because I couldn't move any faster), and I knew I would pay later. Really? At 46, I had to worry that a walk would result in swelling and joint pain? Let the foul mood dance begin. Why not invite the pity party to come out to play? I am in this aggravating cycle of needing to lose weight, the weight put on since my feet decided not to cooperate with the activities I like to do to stay in some semblance of a shape, although my former doctor blames the arthritis on the weight gain. Trying to explain to him that I gained the weight after my diagnosis of arthritis in the joints on the tops of my feet was the most maddening one-way conversa...