Well, I Declare!

I could play this straight but I won't. I'm in a whimsy mood but could stray into serious periodically. We shall see what my stream of consciousness doth bring....

French philosopher, Voltaire (1694 - 1778) wrote….
“Man is free at the moment he wishes to be.”
This is your moment.
What sayeth you on the subject of freedom?
Fill in the blanks. Make your own Declaration of Independence. Freely choose your destiny. Embrace your inner freedom.
Some questions are serious. Some are silly. All are revealing. Have fun! It's time to play The Queen's Meme.

I hold these truths to be self-blevident! (That’s blog + evident for all you non-blog speakers)

I declare myself to be free from inhibitions.

I wish I could free myself of spammers.

I am thankful that he freed me from my necklace which was caught in my earring!

I don't mind paying for pencil skirts but pencils should be free.

I am free to buy another pencil skirt over and over again. In fact, I look forward to it!

If I could choose one freedom I don’t have today it would be free from financial obligations and able to travel the world at will. But first I would spread the wealth among family and friends.

In a free and perfect world there would be no war, poverty, disease, hate.

I am going to write my Declaration of Independence on a peace globe.
I wouldn’t mind being taxed on pencil skirts but I highly resent being taxed on pencils. I said that didn't I?

When I was younger I was free to run amok in the Kingdom of Bloggingham but now that I’m older I prefer to run amok in the Kingdom of Bloggingham.

I declare myself free from the destructive habit of throwing people in the dungeon.

I declare myself joyfully addicted to blogging !!! (and omelets)

I don’t think the world will ever be totally free of prejudice. Sadly.

With complete abandon, I free fall into love. Nice thought, eh?

In a hypothetical Superman existence, I would use my power to do good doing good.
I wickedly use my power to do evil doing evil.
If I weren’t so dependent on caffeine... I could be truly independent about caffeine.

When I need to free my thoughts from stress and worry, I dip my toe in the river of love.

I would like to freely kick ...these guys... in the seat of their hypothetical pants.

I want to drive fast on the highway every single day and pay no consequences.

I want the freedom to let my silliness run amok also and enjoy dancing barefoot in the kitchen every single day.

If I could re-write the Freedom of Information Act I would remove Homer's social security number from the public record.

I daily need the freedom to create whatever my imagination comes up with on soooo many levels with and I don't give a bamn what anybody else thinks about it. Bam!

If I had the power to throw one person in jail it would be Osama bin Laden.

If I had the power to free one person from bondage of any kind it would be anyone with an alcohol or addiction problem. It is truly a deceptive and hellacious existence.

If I could “speak truth to power“ I would say to the world "Listen up! The world's on fire, can't you see? Put down your arms before we don't have a world left to fight in."

The 3 most important freedoms I have in my life are: Once I started really thinking about this answer I realized there are so many freedoms I take for granted each day. The freedom to live in a country without war, freedom of speech (to write on this public page what I choose) freedom to be myself without apology, freedom to begin each new day with a clean slate, freedom to worship as I choose.... many many more.

My favorite freedom song is "Think" aka the Freedom song by Aretha Franklin.
I know. Whimsy. But fun. And totally danceable.

It is now, Homer.

Now, present your work to the Blogosphere and sign it. I choose bloggers Jamie (Duward Discussion) and Travis (Trav's Thoughts) and Vinny Marini (The Big Leather Couch) to sign my Bloggers Declaration of Independence as witnesses. They will hold me accountable and share in my debauchery lofty ideals.

Now go forth and be free, my children.
Let's dance with Aretha ala Jennifer Hudson.

Monday Mimisms ~There is still no shower in the car

I think this is the part where I tell about my weekend. Saturday alone could be an epic tale of hilarity.....or woe.... depending on how you look at it. I choose hilarity. Please feel free to guffaw.
Here it is in a nutshell. I suggest you brew strong coffee and add tequila.

I'm calling it National UGH Day.

9:00 am Ex-husband arrives unannounced. This is NEVER a good idea and always a disaster. When will he learn to knock?
9:01 Migraine is pounding at my door. Compliments of you-know-who.
10:00 I escape to the end of my driveway to go for a long-awaited hair appointment. I realize I am not wearing lipstick which is NEVER a good idea and always a disaster.
I reach in my purse and drop bright red lipstick on my new white shirt.

10:01 Turn around frantically trying to get back in the house to get it out before it dries. Googling lipstick stain. Inane computer connection won't connect six times in a row. I said bad things about Verizon. Bad bad things.

10:15 Lipstick dried.
10:16 I said more bad things about Verizon.
10:17 I put fingernail polish remover on it and start the washer....
THEN Google tells me finally I should have used dishwashing liquid FIRST.

Thank you, Mr. Google.

10:20 I leave the shirt to soak and say 3 Hail Marys to make up for the cussing.
10:21 I leave AGAIN.
SIDEBAR: **I forgot to tell you about the floor** I'm stripping the hardwood and re-polishing the floor. Board by board by board. Just call me Cinderella. It is a huge area including 2 hallways. It will take longer to get this done than it will take them to collect all the oil in the Gulf. Why is this important? Because...

10:22 In the car. I break out in hives. Apparently from the floor cleaner on my skin.
10:22 In the car. I text 2 Johnny-on-the-spot friends.

"Hives. Tell me I won't die."
"Take Benadryl and shower, now" said the voice of calm.

I have no Benadryl or shower. I am in the frickin' car!!

10:23 I get my priorities straight and go to Dillard's to find the last white shirt in my size just in case the lipstick won't come out. I told you. Priorities. Of course, they no longer have the shirt. I buy pants instead. Don't ask me why. Remember, my brain is fumigated at this point.
10:40 I am itching now.
10:41 I need iced tea from my favorite place WAY across town because tea fixes everything.
They are closed.
10:50 I cuss. Daintily.
10:52 I look in the backseat. There is still no shower in the car.

10:53 Once again, priorities overtake my senses. I pass by 3 drugstores en route to the hairdresser. I'm pretty sure one of them had some Benadryl - and yet I pass them by. Anyway...I know that if I take the stuff before I get a haircut I won't be able to sit up in the chair or drive and would most likely get arrested for DUIB (driving under the influence of Benadryl). Follow my logic, Bloggy People?
**Just nod. I will see you.**
11:00 She takes an inch instead of 1/2" and tries to sweep it out of sight before I see it because she thinks it will "look better. You'll see!" I am not amused. I need that extra inch to cover up the hideous rash on my arms. Can't she see that???!

11.15 I am completely IrRASHional by now.

12:00 I decide that perhaps it was my ex who gave me the hives and not the chemical. After all, I am still breathing and thinking in a most sophisticated manner with all my priorities intact.
12:05 I drive home. The stain is out of the marvelous shirt. There is a God!!

12:10 Overjoyed and itching, I decide to ignore the hideous sight I have become and take Match.dumb pictures outside in the sun before I wither into a further mess and can attract no man at all.
Follow my logic, Bloggy People?

3:00 pm After 30,398 pictures posed outside in the sun....the sun....the SUN. That's it! It wasn't the chemicals, it wasn't the ex-husband. It's just a sun rash on my lily white Queen skin. Whew! I was attacked by the sun. Oh joyous day! Thank goodness I didn't buy the Benadryl or my faculties would have surely gone awry.

3:01 I hate all the pictures in the camera.

I told you it was a disaster.

Why did I teach him to use the camera?

I was just saying to someone the other day how important it is to eat healthy and lay off the fatty foods and junk.
No sugar. No carbs. NO bread. NO red meat for Mimi. No sir, no sirree.
No way. No how. I'm a dedicated health nut. That's me alright.

Baby Boy, are you listening to me?......Baby Boy? What are you doing...Baby Boy!

Wait! What?! Stop!Put that.....Don't move that!

"What camera, Mimi?"

If you ever hope to see another ice cream cone

for the rest of your life, Baby Boy, I suggest you hand over the camera.

I am QUITE sure that is NOT me eating...........THAT.
In fact I am QUITE sure I am taking it out of the cone to throw away.....

Quite sure.

Am I good or what?

Mi mi mi mi mi!

In the minuscule span it took to say hello we'd already hugged and crossed a couple years of emotion in the process.
My friend, teacher, and mentor.
How I'd missed her.

Since the time we saw each other over two years ago, both of us had lost parents (she, her mother and father to Alzheimer's in the last 8 months), one child off singing opera in the northern part of New York, the other starting high school and my Baby Boy had grown into a kindergarten graduate.

Our memories are long.
When you study privately with the same person for four years in the same voice studio day after day after day, you know them as intimately as another human can. You begin to let your guard down and trust each other. And if you're an exceptional teacher you know that the inner workings of a person's soul always displays itself first in the musical rendering. It is your job to hear it, know and capture that part of them, celebrate it, hone it, tweak it, and wrangle the honesty into each tone. What is internalized emotionally, comes out in one's singing. After all, singing is just breathing on spiritual wings. That's why so many performers stay stuck in one aspect of their "unique sound" for so long. It's honest. People connect with that. It's hard to branch out into other emotions when angst pays the bills. My Maestra knew how to push me into facing the inner first and gave me the courage to let it fly from my fingers and voice. Of course, there are consequences for this teaching philosophy.

She knows where the bodies are buried.
You don't think all that opera drama is just onstage, do you?

We laughed and reminisced about colleagues retired now, tried to catch up with where everyone might be these days, who went into teaching and who stayed the vulnerable path of performance. Oh, the stories. Oh, the secrets. There has been much success in our circle. She and her classical pianist husband performed recently in Scotland, another mutual friend is working on The Wiz production in New York, many have successful careers as professional musicians across the world, some have succumbed to the practical private studio route......Unlike many other professions, the community of actors and singers seem to find a way to stay connected. There are tethers everywhere!

"Did you know that the tenor in Gianni Schicchi married the soprano in Magic Flute?" and "Remember the gorgeous baritone in Opera Workshop class? He's studying with so and so now," and on and on.....

Careers mesh along the way and sometimes one will step into the place where another left, quite unaware that the shoes you're filling might be someone you sang with many moons ago. If you're not after the same role in the same town, you're good to go. Otherwise, all bets are off.

We ate Thai (no, I didn't cook it) and sat in my kitchen for 3 hours talking music and memories and psychoanalyzing the world in general. Relationships and love lives made for lively and hilarious banter. We both had never to be discussed with the world stories to relate on that level. We laughed until we hurt. And then each told of the final moments with our parents. We cried until we hurt.
Why do women gravitate to the kitchen to chat when there are perfectly comfortable chairs in the living room? cause the coffee pot is near
Despite the intensity of our catching up - and the promise to do it again soon - it was awesome!

So, that was my day.
I'm off to Google research a certain baritone.
Who knew he was still single?

Don't tell him I'm looking for him, okay?

For Bobbie..... Who Is Traveling On

It is with great sadness to learn today that Bobbie passed away. She authored the blog Almost There and was one of my favorite and most faithful peace bloggers. She was a passionate peace blogger and often wrote promotional posts to encourage others to join. This was her last globe (#1485) from the 2009 launch and as you can see, she was family-oriented and thoughtful about our world.....just a lovely person. Her sidebar is filled with many causes she cared about and wrote about. Her daughter who is also a blogger, wrote a beautiful tribute on her mother's blog. She is particularly thankful that her mom's words live on and spoke of the love she had for her internet friends - how close she was to them and interested in their lives.
Bobbie is that type of spirit.

I love the quote at the top of her blog which reads:

Traveler, the path is nothing more than your footsteps; traveler, there is no path, a path is made as you go. You make the path as you go, and on looking back you see a trail that never can be walked again. Traveler, there is no path, only a wake in the sea. - Antonio Machado

#1110

What I find even more incredible are the words I found in Bobbie's last post, written June 14th on the day she had her heart attack. It was early morning and she let her mind wander, not sure of what to say but knowing she had to say something. How many of us do the same thing each time we sit down to write a post? For some reason that morning, her mind began to meander down a nostalgic road and she reflected on the path her life took from a young girl moving to New York on a whim, meeting the love of her life, and landing many years later with a family in New Jersey at a slower pace with many changes and wisdom stops along the way. She wrote that her thoughts were "turning back in time" and said, "but my own life is winding down and I find I have memories enough to get by on. My computer allows me to "travel" wherever I wish and to stay in contact with the rest of the world"......Why did she choose to write those words on June 14th?
Ah. But we know now.

Travel on, my friend, travel on.
I have chills thinking of the journey you have just begun.
Peace.

The Beach ~ I should go in the snow

Welcome to The Queen's Meme #42 ~ We're going to the beach!

Sometimes silly.
Sometimes serious.
Always fun!
Step out of the box.
Be creative.
Use your imagination.
No one's answers are quite like yours

I apologize for the lateness of this meme posting. I was shopping for a bathing suit. I kid you not. More on that later. Right now....let's hit the beach.

#42 The Beach Meme

1. When is the last time you saw the ocean?
It's been a while. It was a New England shore. Rocky and windy. But beautiful.
I think I need a hotter beach this time.

2. Where is your favorite stretch of beach shoreline?
Cape Hatteras, North Carolina

3. Are you planning a beach vacation this year?
I have two trips planned this summer. Both involve the beach and other places as well.
It can't come soon enough. Yippee!!
4. Bikinis or one-piece?
I spent a few minutes hours and hours in the dressing room of my favorite department store trying on bathing suits this afternoon for my trip. Polka dots, a teal/aqua I adored but it had a fabric flaw, a slinky black one-piece, a ruffled top animal print and black bottomed suit...with black heels.
I settled on a wonderful one-piece with a string tied around the neck in a rich coral/red color. I love it. Now I need a coverup to match, a hat and a bag. Back to shopping.



5. Do you sunbathe or sit under an umbrella?
I should go in the snow. I burn to a crisp in the sun. I would burn even under an umbrella. Queen Elizabeth I was my great-great-great-great-grandmother. I inherited her skin and her propensity for many suitors who were generally younger than the Queen.
A girl could learn a lot from her.

6. Have you ever been to a nude beach?
And tell you?

7. Favorite activity at the beach while on vacation?
Guessing who is married and who is not at the nude beach.

8. Condo, hotel or cottage rental?
Ocean front cottage rentals are my preference. Hotels are nice for fast getaways but I like to cook (yes, I said cook!) and have my own kitchen available if I'm there for long.

9. What beach in the whole wide world would you like to visit for the first time?
The Cape of Good Hope in Africa. Sounds like a cheery place to be.

10. Did you ever have a special romantic time at the beach?
Once upon a time I was engaged. He took me walking on the beach around midnight. He got down on one knee in the sand, pulled a ring out of his pocket and proposed. The marriage lasted a long time with many ups and downs over the years..... but I will never forget that night.




11. Tell us about a favorite beach memory.

This is the Cape Hatteras Life Saving Station. I spent many a night and day here burned to a crisp.

I have to go now. I'm tired from trying on bathing suits. It's exhausting!!!

© Mimi Lenox

Lights out.

Monday Mimisms ~ The Globe

It was perfectly imperfect.

Complete with cracks and tears, ripped from ocean to equator. The tip of South Africa torn from the Ivory Coast to the Cape of Good Hope which tumbled into the South Atlantic Ocean. Ethiopia looked a mess and just west of Algeria lay a stain.
In the land of the Soviet Socialist Republic not a flaw existed save one missing piece directly above Krasnoyarsk. The oceans had faded, land terrains sank into scratches and creases. I couldn't tell where one city ended and the other began. Krasnoyarsk was positively in shambles. No one could live there.
I wonder if they've had dinner yet? Will the family make it back home in time to share dessert? Will they make it back home at all?

"How much do you want for this globe?" I asked.

The store owner laughed. "You can have it," she said. "It's not worth much. You're welcome to it." Have you ever been so delighted you wanted to squeal and jump in a stranger's arms?

Don't answer that.

Restrained and humbled, she touched the world, wondering how it would be to peer through mountain ranges like some pencil skirted Clark Kent, flying above and beyond the ravages and skirmishes below. How would it feel to sit high in the universe, moving with troops of evil commandos and mercenaries, soldiers of rescue and soldiers of doomed flights, bombs of suicide and prayers of victims unaware that momentarily their world would tumble into seas unknown......Would I be able to watch and say nothing? Who would notice if I listened through the keyhole at the United Nations while all the world's leaders sat side-by-side... divided....so close.....yet unable to reach across a mahogany table while children scrambled for food in the Sudan heat?

She wondered how holding the world might change her life.

How can we all live on the same ball made of war and peace? What stops it from toppling through the galaxy out of sheer frustration? Why does Mother Earth continue to wage her birthing pains on the likes of us?

Isn't there anyone who still thinks our differences are cause for celebration? Our perceived flaws matters of choice? Our collective autonomy made of courage?

Just across the aisle in the store of antique marvels, perched on a tilted spinning axis made of rusty copper and a compass surrounding the North Pole, sat another world. Intact. Beautifully colored. Raised mountains. Polished. Blue blue oceans and no squeaks when it turned. But how could something so mesmerizing be so mundane?
It was too....too....something.

I fumbled with Ireland and found myself paying a visit to friends in the United Kingdom. Wonder what Akelamalu is doing today...Jean-Luc? Bazza....Are they thinking of me? Do they know I am thinking of them? Do my thoughts count? Can they hear them?

Oh that's just silly, Mimi. They're not here. Just you and your vivid imagination in a store with the world at your fingertips and a salesclerk wondering why you can't stop taking pictures of something you're never going to buy.

I wish she could see what I see.

So I looked at the cohesive ball of longitudes and latitudes, glad that Algeria had repaired her region and all was well in the Sudan. Australia positively glowed with new found courage, not to be outdone by my own American soil.







But still.....something didn't seem right. All this perfection. It wasn't my world.

I turned and picked up the tattered globe.
I think I'll take this one home. Only this one.
We have some patching up to do, but look how it's still standing in all its faded and broken glory.
Don't you see the potential?

The lady looked at me with an okay-kooky-lady curiosity and nodded.
"Enjoy!" she beamed, truly joyous to have given something away of such little value to her that made the inquisitive woman with the camera so happy. If she only knew how much I value the authentic more than the aesthetic, the potential more than the prize, the person more than the spit polished shine of political populace.
The real world is more full of broken than beautiful.
And if we have a snowball's chance I'd better learn to look into the torn places.

We don't have to be perfect.
We just have to be willing to patch up the parts that need fixing.

Got any ideas?

*Photography Mimi Lenox*

Join us for BlogBlast For Peace Nov 4, 2011