How I Write for Vent

I would like to end this weeks posts, by answering a great question that Linda left on one of her comments a few weeks ago.

She asked…

"…ron, I know you don't make this stuff up - it's too out there for that, but how do you think of it to write about it? "

Well…as crazy and lunatic as some of my more humorous posts read, everything I share with you are things that have actually happened to me.

I think my friends who have spent a great deal of time with me and also read this blog, would tell you that how I express myself here, is how I express myself all the time…

…naturally over-the-edge.

So when I share a story with my readers…I’m over-the-edge.

All of us experience life differently. And for me, I’m always aware of the “inner dialogue” that goes on in my head; things that I’m thinking, feeling, and also things that I would liked to have said. So when I write a story…those are the things that I infuse.

And as far as how I think of what to write about…

…these stories just come to me.

This is why I always carry a blog topic notebook in my backpack. Whenever anything happens to me, which I feel would make for a good post, I write it down. I also write down experiences that I may suddenly remember from my past. If I don’t grab inspiration immediately, I will end up forgetting.

I’m very much an observer. And not only do I observe myself, but I also enjoy observing the people around me - how they look, act, and unique things in their mannerisms.

I think my time spent as an actor, has taught me to always notice everything.

Now when I sit down at my computer and begin to write a story, sometimes it will all come out in one sitting, however, sometimes I will go back in a day or two and continue writing.

I quite often have three or four posts going at the same time.

I will also try to stagger my topics, so that I share a bit of variety.

You may have noticed that I also like to share a photo or two within each post. I do this, because I feel that the photos helps tell the story and convey my feelings. It creates a beginning and an ending.

I present each post as if you were watching a scene or a “take” of my life within a movie.

One of the reasons why I commit myself to posting three times a week, is because it enables me to stay focused on producing something. In the past, when I’ve simply allowed myself to post whenever, I found that I would become uninspired, however, by setting a posting schedule, it helps to keep my creative juices flowing. And for me, three times a week is very doable.

Not only do I enjoy having this blog to socialize and connect with people, but I also use it to practice and improve on my writing skills, so it also serves as a teaching tool.

Having this blog brings a great deal of joy and fulfillment into my life. It’s my little space in the world, where I can produce something of my own personal sense of quality and commitment, and then share it with those who will read.

So there you go, folks. I hope this gave you a behind the scenes view of how I create for Vent.

And thanks for your great question, Linda!

And I would also like to thank each and everyone of you for taking the time…

…to view my life.

*popcorn, coke and twizzlers are served in the lobby

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

X

Prom Night Las Vegas Act

I actually got the idea for this post from a good blogger friend of mine, Diane.

So thanks for the inspiration, dear lady. And I just want you to know that I think your prom dress was so much prettier than my tuxedo.

*and if you’ve never visited Diane before, please do yourself a favor - as soon as you’re finished reading this post, head over and introduce yourself - Diane is a super lady and has a super blog.

(especially if you enjoy martini’s)

Anyway…

…most of you already know that I’ve had off from work this month, and have been going though boxes in my closet; finding all sorts of fun vintage things. A few days ago I discovered some senor prom photos that date back to 1974.

And the only thing I can personally say about how I looked in these photos, is that I totally blame it on 1974!

It kind of scares me though, because you know how they always say, “Style repeats itself?”

Well, I’ve got news for you…

..I’ll go to my senor citizen prom NAKED before I’m ever seen again in this DÉCOR.

Ok, so here we go…




Now be honest with me…when you first looked at this, which two people in the photo suddenly POPPED out and caught your attention, because what their wearing looks as though they stole it from the Wayne Newton and Liberace Museums in Las Vegas?

Did you figure it out?

I don’t know about you, but when first I looked at this photo, my eyes suddenly BULGED out.

This photo was taken in front of my house, just before we all got into my fathers’ car and drove to a formal dinner at Denny’s.

Now as far as I’m concerned, I think both ladies look fabulous, because what their wearing is simple, classic and is not causing my eyes to have detached retinas.

However, the gentlemen look like a cross between a Las Vegas Act and two funeral directors from South Philly.

Tell me…now what’s WRONG with this picture?

To me, it seems as though the two ladies and the two gentlemen are about to attend completely different social events. The women are going to the Ritz Carlton, and the men are going to the CIRCUS.

Now if you look closely at my tuxedo, it’s so long, that if I had belted it, it could almost pass for a quilted Chanel mini dress.

And my best friends tuxedo PANTS…well… I can’t even find the words to described them other than, “Get them the HELL OFF!”

And our bow ties?......no comment.



Ok, moving on to one more for the boys…



This next photo was taken in the living room of my best friends house.

And what I find interesting about this photo, is how who ever took it, felt the need to include the hanging crystal chandelier, rather than our legs.

WTF??

Notice how we’re standing in front of a window curtain, which cleverly made us look like the opening comedy act for Sammy Davis Jr.

Oy vey…

Well, the only thing I can say is this…

…thank god for evolution.

My Cheap New DVD Player

Isn’t it especially fun when several of your home appliances and electronics seem to fall apart at the same time?

Let’s see…

…so far it’s been my French press coffee maker, my VCR, my vacuum cleaner, my alarm clock, and most devastatingly, my DVD player.

Last Friday I decided it was time to replace the DVD player. And because I like to purchase things in the most frugal way possible, I went to the only place in this godforsaken city that sells electronics CHEAP.

I went to none other…than K Fart.

Oh, excuse me…K Mart.

I both love and hate K Mart.

I love it for the frugal prices, but I hate it because my shopping experience always feels like I’m being stung to death by a colony of fire ants.

Now I don’t know how the K Mart is in your part of the world, but the one here in Philly is perhaps one of the worst stores I’ve ever shopped in.

Not only does it look like someone dropped an atomic bomb on it, but the customer service is virtually invisible.

To tell you the truth, I’ve had better customer service while using a vending machine.

So whenever I go to K Mart I have to mentally and emotionally prepare myself, by trying to imagine that I’m the most laid-back person in the world, and that nothing bothers me.

But somehow I always end up reacting like Joan Crawford.

Well anyhow, I got a great deal. I purchased a DVD player for only $29.95.

And don’t laugh…because it actually works, temporarily.

However, even though the price tag was fantastic, trying to hook it up to both my VCR and TV was like something out of the horror movie SCREAM.

When I first opened the little booklet that came inside the box, it took me 15 minutes just to find the directions written in English. And then it took me another 30 minutes to unwrap all the one hundred ANNOYING pieces of protective plastic that were scotch taped to EVERY SINGLE INCH of the 29.95 piece of CRAP!

So 45 minutes after I got the damn thing unveiled, I attempted to read the cable connection directions.

This is when I began to have a complete hysterectomy breakdown, because nothing made any sense.

For some reason, the cable colors on the new DVD player did not match the cable colors on my TV modulator, PLUS…there was an extra orange and green cable, which I had no earthy idea what they were suppose to connect to.

And the booklet was absolutely no help, because it was printed in black and white, so I couldn’t tell what the hell cable colors they were referring to.

So I had to play a guessing game; plugging in fifty different cable color combinations in the hopes that one would finally be the perfect combination.

(I felt like a friggin’ switchboard operator)

Well, needless to say I finally got the DVD player connected.

But I would like to end this post by repeating one thing…

…K FART!

Forgetting...Why and What

I’m beginning to think that all the Elmer’s Glue I sniffed in catholic school, has finally come back to haunt me.

Or maybe it could be that now, because I’m 53 years old, my Temporal lobe is slowly shrinking like a hemorrhoid.

But lately, I’ve been doing something which I find very frustrating …

…like forgetting WHY I went to do something.

Has that ever happened to you?

The other day while I was brushing my teeth, I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t balanced my checkbook in a few days, so I thought… “Oooooh, you better go do that immediately.”

So after rinsing my mouth I walked over to my desk, but when I got there, I paused confusingly and thought…

…“Now WHY the hell did I walk over here???”

This has been happening to me quite frequently.

But I finally figured a clever way to remember WHY I walked into a room.

You see, if I reverse my body movements, by actually walking backwards from where I came, I suddenly remember WHY I walked forward in the first place.

It’s sort of like pushing the rewind button on a DVD player. You can go back to the beginning of a scene and then see what you’ve missed.

Hey…but it works!

Another thing that I’ve been doing…

…is forgetting WHAT I went into the grocery store for.

And in this case, walking backwards doesn’t help, because I’d have to walk 13 blocks backwards to my apartment and I’d look like a total ASS, so I refuse to do it.

A lot of the times when I go shopping for just a few items, I’ll grab a basket and start walking down the isles and then suddenly blank out…

…“Now WHAT the hell did I come in here for?”

So I end up meandering around the store; staring at all the shelves like a lost puppy, and hoping that by spending two hours looking at every single article of food in the store, I’ll finally remember WHAT.

I know…I know I should make a grocery list, but you see, the only reason why I don’t like to do that, is because I want to train my brain not to rely on a silly piece of paper; forcing it to remember things on it’s own, so that my brain actually becomes STRONGER.

But as far as I can tell…that’s working like SHIT.

No…No…

…I think what I really need to do, is go back to the way that my Aunt Anna-Mae used to remember…

Have an UN-forgettable weekend, everyone!

X

Please Note: I'll be out for most of the day on Saturday, so I'll be responding to comments later in the evening. Thank you for your patience and understanding, folks!

I Love Lucy

One of the greatest things about having off from work this month, is that I was finally able to go though a bunch of old boxes in my closet, and sort through all the stuff I’ve been hanging onto for years.

Yesterday I was delighted to find a special treasure that I had totally forgotten about, which I would like to share with you.

But first, a little introduction….

Even to this very day, I Love Lucy remains one of my all-time favorite T.V. comedy series.

I actually own several seasons on VHS, which I continue to watch over and over again.

Now I’m also aware that many people find her show ridiculously slapstick, totally over-the-edge, unrealistic, and even detestable.

(and we’ll hear about “one of those people” a little later in the post)

However for me… I Love Lucy is pure genius.

And the reason for this genius, was because Lucille Ball had a way of making you believe that every slapstick, totally over-the-edge, and unrealistic thing she was doing was REAL, because SHE believed it - and that’s a brilliant actress.

I mean come on…

…who else on this planet could make you believe that she and Ethel Mertz got jobs working at Kramer's Candy Kitchen chocolate factory, and frantically had to stuff their mouths with about five hundred ready-to-box-chocolates, because the conveyor belt was moving too fast ?

(I’d like to see Arnold Schwarzenegger do that and get away with it)

When I was a kid, I lived for I Love Lucy.

I would watch it every single day, right after General Hospital and Dark Shadows.

(I believe it came on around 4 PM)

Anyway, I don’t know what ever possessed me, but one day I wrote an I Love Lucy fan letter and mailed it to The Philadelphia Enquire Newspaper.

Then one morning, while I was eating my Captain Crunch with crunch berries, I just so happened to pick up the TV Week Magazine, which was like a TV Guide that came inside the newspaper.

So I’m sitting there, flipping through the pages when low and behold….

…I SEE MY FAN LETTER!

Holy cow…I wanted to DIE!

I think I remember spitting out a mouthful of crunch berries, as I catapulted from the table; running upstairs to my mother SCREAMING…

…”LOOK! LOOK!…they published my Lucy fan letter!”

(my mother thought I was going to hyperventilate)

And after I finally calmed down, I realized that not only had they published my love letter, but the magazine also published a hate letter to show conflicting views.

(the filthy RAG magazine)

Anyway, so here they are…..






Ok, I know that we’re all entitled to our own views, but at 16 years old I felt terribly bitter towards this woman. I always wanted to say something to Miss Tight-Ass Elizabeth Berry, but couldn’t express myself at the time, because I never found the proper words.

However, suddenly yesterday the words became perfectly clear…

…“EAT SHIT”


Respectfully,
Ronnie Carnavil

Burger Lust

It’s funny how food will sometimes feel very similar to what it’s like to enjoy a carnal relationship.

This is how I feel when eating a great burger.

Even though I’m not a big meat eater by any means, once or twice a month I lust for a fat juicy hamburger.

And not only do I enjoy eating a burger, but I will also order French fries and a coke, because they seem to turn the whole experience into some sort of Kama Sutra.

Sometimes when I eat a burger, I can’t even speak.

I will close my eyes and quite often here the voice of Donna Summers singing her 80’s disco hit…Love to Love You Baby.

Now normally I eat very fast, however when I’m eating a hamburger, I enjoy lots of foreplay in order to prolong the ecstasy, leading up to the BIG moment.

Last Thursday evening, I met up with a good friend of mine for our “Burger Night.”

She and I had been wanting to try a new place, which had opened in the Fall, but because of all the holiday madness we never had the time, so last week we set a date for a Roman Burger Orgy.

The place we went to is called Goodburger, and the word GOOD is a total understatement.

It should really be called Good-God-I-Had-An-Orgasm-Burger.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a more sensual time eating a hamburger in all my life.

I literally wanted to smear ketchup all over body and place pickle slices in my underwear.

And at the climatic moment, I had to grab onto the sides of the table, because I thought my ass would vibrate off of the chair.

I think I actually heard myself cry out…“YES!..YES!…YES!”

And after the rapture had subsided, I sat there completely spent, with such a wonderful feeling of total inner peace; craving a Marlboro Light.

It was lovely.

So if you haven’t had much carnal knowledge lately, and you’re looking for inexpensive, yet high-quality imitation fornication…try Goodburger.

I guarantee it’ll be the best “Burger Big O” you’ve ever experienced.

“Oooooooooo…love to love you, baby…ooooooooo….”

I would like to close this post with a little something for my vegetarian readers, so you don’t feel left out….

Let's Get Nosey

Out of all five physical senses, smell is my personal favorite.

I guess that would also include: taste, since both smell and taste go together.

I’m virtually a smell addict.

I’ve been known to smell my food before I eat it, and also magic markers, leather, crayons, Elmer’s glue, erasers, bicycle seats, and even paper.

One of my favorite things to do in a bookstore, is to sniff the pages as I’m reading a new book.

(I’ve gotten several paper cuts on my nose from doing this)

I also enjoy wearing a fragrance every day.

My cologne collection looks like the entire fragrance department in Neiman Marcus.

(I believe you can never have enough cologne)

And being someone who has studied aromatherapy, I’ve discovered that scent evokes the most powerful of memories.

To this very day, whenever I inhale the aroma of Jovan Musk Oil Spray…

…I’m immediately transported back to my senior year in high school, when I would be listening to the song Rock The Boat and making out with my girlfriend in the front seat of my fathers car, as she told me how good I smelled, while ramming her BRACES into mouth, causing severe hemorrhaging to my lips and gums.

Warning: Jovan Musk Oil unleashes the beast.

Another one of my fond memories is when I was in Catholic Grammar School, and the nun’s would give their students tests, that had been copied using DITTO ink.

The scent of liquid Ditto was out of this world.

Sniffing Ditto paper was like experiencing an hallucinogenic. I mean sometimes after a long whiff, I would actually see little pink elephants in tutu’s flying around the classroom.

And those damn nun’s always kept a close watch on all the students, because god forbid if any of us would sniff the test papers too long, Sister would immediately start clapping her hands real loud, screaming…

“ OK, THAT’S ENOUGH MR.CARNAVIL..STOP SMELLING THIS INSTANT!!!”

Sister could be such a Kill Joy….

Have a "sweet-smelling" weekend, everyone!

Why I Retreat

Once a year, I like to go on a solo retreat.

By a solo retreat, I mean time in seclusion where I spend three or four days totally alone without anything to distract me from myself.

No computer, no TV, no phone, and no contact with people.

In the past, I’ve gone on several retreats where it involved being with many other people, but found it much too distracting for why I went there in the first place…to be silent.

A little over a year ago, I found the perfect retreat spot. It was a Franciscan Hermitage that was tucked away in a secluded area in the county. There were five beautiful little cabins (hermitages) sporadically spaced throughout the woods.

(the photo above was the hermitage I stayed in)

One of the requirements to take the retreat, was that there could only be a single occupancy in each hermitage, so I knew this would be the place for me.

Since I don’t have a car, someone was nice enough to dropped me off and then picked me up four days later.

I took one book, a journal, one music CD to mediate with, and enough food to last me for four days.

All the bed linens and towels were supplied.

It just so happened, that on the weekend I had chosen to take my retreat, no one else was renting a hermitage, so I was completely alone.

It was heaven.

Several people have asked me if being alone and silent for four days was difficult.

Not at all. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Yet coming from a city, the silence was almost deafening.

You see, taking the time to retreat does several things for me….

It allows me to pull away from all the things that distract me from my feelings, because when I’m alone and silent…my feelings have no where to go, except to be felt.

I spent much of the four days just sobbing, and it was for no particular reason, other than I had forgotten what it was like to FEEL myself.

Taking a retreat also allows me to spend quality time reconnecting to nature, which helps to ground me. I’m one of those people who enjoys hugging trees, so I did a lot of tree-hugging.

And I found that within those four days, once I was able to start feeling myself again; along with being within nature, I was able to experience the main reason why I came on the retreat…

…to commune with my spirit.

Through everyday life, I will sometimes loose touch with my spirit, which causes me to loose direction, however, when I’m alone and silent…I have nothing else to do except hear it’s voice.

Taking the time to retreat is by no means a way to escape the world, but rather a means for me to deeply rediscover…

…my purpose in the world.

Oh Ron...You're a Character!

Those of you who have been reading Vent for sometime now, know that I’m also a makeup artist.

Most everything I’ve discovered about this art has come from my training in the theater.

Learning how to apply makeup for the stage has taught me a great deal about shadowing, highlighting, contouring, and color theory.

Makeup technique for the stage is different than applying it for everyday use, however, the basic principles are the same.

The thing I most enjoy about makeup for the stage, is how is gives me the ability to actually transform myself into a totally different person.

Today I thought I’d share some photos of various characters I’ve played onstage, and also a few Halloween costumes I created.

So please join me in a pictorial of some crazy characters….

This is when I played the character of Mr. Smee in the musical Peter Pan. I’m the demented little man on the left with the Pepsodent smile and missing teeth. The guy next to me is none other than Captain Hook, brilliantly portrayed by a very talented actor. He and I had a BLAST being onstage together.

This is me as the character of Parpignol in opera La Boheme’ with the Orlando Opera Company. And please don’t be impressed, because I only got to sing two WHOLE lines. Performing in an opera was a totally new experience for me. It was grand, but very DIVA.

Considering how much I hate clowns, I’m surprised I even did this. I was a clown for a photo that went into a children’s textbook. I actually think it’s kind of funny that I was a clown and my last name happens to be Carnavil.

Next we have photo of me when I portrayed the Wicked Stepmother in Cinderella. I think I look like one of the Pussycat Dolls in that dress, don’t you? The two talented ladies on either side of me portrayed my lovely daughters. This was a role that will go down as one of my favorites - I got to be a total BITCH.

Now I hope this next photo doesn’t make you have horrible nightmares tonight, but this was a Halloween costume and makeup that I came up with, to see if I could be a believable biker dude. Notice the sweat stains under my armpits and chest. I did that with baby oil. PEACE, BABY!

If the previous photo doesn't give you nightmares…I know this one WILL. This was when I went to a Halloween party as one of my favorite characters in a movie classic. I’m the silent film star Norman Desmond from the brilliant film Sunset Blvd, but I actually came off looking more like my fathers mother.

I would like to close this post with Norman Desmonds’ final line in the movie, before she’s carted away to a mental institution.

…“I’m ready for my close-up Mr. DeMille….”

Wearing My Mothers Earrings

I’m about to share a strange secret that will most likely make you never want to read my blog again.

So it was nice knowing you…. bye.

Sometimes when I was a little boy, whenever my parents would go out for the afternoon and I was all alone, I would spend some time rummaging through my mothers jewelry drawer; trying on her clip-on earrings.

I mean, it’s not like I ever pretended that I was Bette Davis or Joan Crawford, or anything…

…but rather that the “female half of me" needed to come out and play.

(don‘t you love how I rationalize things?)

Anyway…

I remember this one particular Saturday afternoon when my parents left the house, and I immediately ran to their bedroom so I could attacked my mothers earrings.

She had recently purchased a pair of new ear bangles, that had large hoops dangling from the clips.

So I carefully snapped them on my lobes and then took a curious look at myself in the mirror.

HOT DAMN…I looked like Cher!

I gently flipped my head from side to side, so I could feel the hoops hit my neck…when suddenly out of nowhere, my sister appeared at the doorway.

Well…

…you never saw a little boys face turn the BRIGHTEST shade of RED in all your life!

I said: “Wwwwwhat are YOU doing here, I thought you were out?”

And laughingly she said: “I can’t WAIT to tell mom and dad about this!”

HOLY SHIT…I’d been caught!!!

So I quickly pulled off the DAMN earrings and ran to my bedroom, where I got down on my knees and prayed to almighty god that my sister would suddenly lose the ability to speak for the rest of her life.

When my parents got home that evening, I thought that my sister would immediately run downstairs and start flapping her lips…but she didn’t.

And then I thought that MAYBE she decided to have mercy on me and wasn’t going to tell them.

But I was WRONG.

She was only waiting for the perfect moment…

After the entire family was seated at the dinner table, we all began to eat our salads.

And then my sister (in her smarmy-ass voice) said: “I have something I would like to TELL everyone.”

And my mother said: “Yes…what is it?”

My sister replied: “I would just like to let everyone know, that this afternoon I caught RONNIE in mom and dads bedroom, trying on mommies earrings!”

And just at that moment…

…I heard five salad forks hit the table.

And shit... look at me now!

Have a FUN weekend, everyone!

Coming Full Circle

Most of you already know that my present mother is actually my stepmother, and that my biological mother passed away when I was 6 years old. But what you don’t know, are the specifics concerning her illness and death.

As you read this story, I ask that you please do not feel sad or sorry for me, because I wouldn’t trade this experience for the world. In fact, I ask that you be happy for me because I believe that everything happens for a reason. And sometimes we all make choices that may not be the best; yet every choice is something we can eventually learn from.

Even when choices are made for us.

A year after I was born, my mother was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease. She lived with this illness for five years and at the young age of 40 passed away; leaving a husband and three small children.

It was not until the last year of her life, was mother even aware of what was happening to her. You see, back in the 50’s it was believed “best” not to share the prognosis of terminal cancer with a patient. And out of genuine care and concern, my father also made the choice not to share this with his children.

But, by the time I had reach age 6…..I knew something was up.

Coming from an Italian family and knowing how dramatic and emotional Italian funerals could be, my father also made the choice not to allow his children to attend.

So, a few days before my mothers death, my siblings and I were taken to stay with a relative. And after the two day funeral was over, the three of us were brought back to our home and then told what had happened.

I can honestly tell you that I have no recollection of feeling anything at the time. A part of me sensed what had been going on with my mother, but not to have had the chance to say goodbye, froze my ability to feel or express any emotion.

Now I know what you all must be thinking…

…“How did you feel about your father making these choices for you?”

Throughout his life, we openly talked about this. He felt tremendously guilty and would every so often ask me if I forgave him for what he did. And of course I did, because even though they weren't the wisest choices, I told him that I knew his intentions came out of a sincere love to protect me.

As I got into my mid 30’s, I began to investigate and use various alternative healing therapies, which enabled me to finally discover that as an overly-sensitive child, I had unconsciously taken on the pain of my mothers death for my entire family, yet had neglected my own.

About six months before my fathers death, my stepmother called to tell me that he was terminally ill, but was avoiding sharing it with me because he didn’t want to cause any pain.

So, I wrote him a letter telling him that I knew he was terminally ill and that he needed to allow me to be apart of it. I also told him that even though I forgave him, I would not allow him to make the same choice he made evolving my mothers death.

Which was to deny me closure, as a means to avoid unavoidable pain.

My stepmother told me that when he read my letter, he sat down on the edge of his bed and sobbed, because he was relieved I had confronted him.

And it was through the process of allowing me to walk with him through his own death…

…that he allowed me to also walk through my mothers death.

The choices had come full circle…

...and we both began to heal our pain.

A Seagull and the Staring Match

Whenever I see a flock of seagulls, I’m always reminded of that scene from the Alfred Hitchcock movie The Birds, when Tippi Hedren runs inside a phone booth, because she’s being attacked by a million seagulls, as they fly head-first into the glass trying to PECK her to death.

To be honest, I’ve never been particularly in love with seagulls.

And not only because of the movie, but also because I spent a lot of time at the beach when I lived in Florida and KNOW what it’s like to be attacked by those PECKERS the minute you open a bag of potato chips.

I swear to god…

…a seagull can be flying thirty thousand feet in the sky, yet the minute anyone on earth unwraps a candy bar, they come catapulting from of the ozone layer, like a kamikaze pilot.

And I LOVE the way they suddenly slam on their brakes and hover over you like a predatory helicopter.

Anyway…

Yesterday I took a nice long walk down to Penn’s Landing Seaport, which sits along the Delaware River.

From the Philadelphia side of the river, there’s a beautiful distant view of Camden, New Jersey. And I say DISTANT, because Camden is definitely a place that looks better from a FAR distance.

So I sat by the waters edge with a cup of Starbucks, a granola bar, and my portable CD player; enjoying a wonderfully cold, crisp day.

I had my head phones on and my eyes closed listening to a soothing CD and munching on my granola bar, when suddenly I sensed the presence of someone staring. And when I opened my eyes, not two feet from me perched on the guardrail…was a seagull staring straight at my mouth.

And do you know what I did?

I stared straight back at him, and with the power of my mind said, “Stare all you want VULTURE, because you’re NOT getting any!”

And do you know what he did?

He continued staring, as if he had every intention of trying to intimidate me with his eyes.

It became like a staring match.

As I continued eating my granola bar, I looked directly into his beady little spectacles.

And I knew it was pissing him off, because he started doing yoga exercises by stretching out one of his legs, while standing on the other foot.

And as I finished my granola bar, I licked my lips; making sure it looked like I had really enjoyed it.

Then I stood up, gathered my belongings and decided to take a walk.

And as I got about ten feet away, I turned around to see if he had flown away.

But he hadn’t.

He continued to stand there motionless; STARING at me.

And I could tell from the bitter look in his eyes…

…he would one day seek his evil revenge….

"The little son of a bitch!"

Please Note: If you're a Bette Midler fan like me, please visit her outrageous website...you'll love it!

Mona Lisa with Curlers

Hi Folks!

Hope everyone had a fabulous New Year!

Mine was very quiet and relaxing.

When I got out of work Wednesday evening, I came directly home and literally went into hibernation.

After dinner, I lit some candles and took a long hot bath. Later, I called my fabulous mother in Florida, when I once again heard her political speech about how she can’t wait until BUSH get’s the HELL out of The White House, so the United States can finally return to a Norman Rockwell painting.

(you gotta LOVE her!)

Afterwards, I called my good friend Diana in Orlando, while we both sipped a glass of red wine, giggling; catching up on one another’s lives.

And then at the stroke of Midnight, the city did what it always does…went INSANE!!!

Fireworks, car horns, and people body slamming each other in the streets.

I on the other hand, sat in my warm cozy apartment like a character from the movie Little Women, and took a deep breath, while letting go of all the retail stress I’ve been carrying around for the past three weeks.

Aaaaah…..

New Years Day I stayed inside, while Philadelphia celebrated with the traditional Mummer’s Day Parade. It’s a celebration that starts at 8:30 am and goes on until about 7:00 pm. - and the city is VERY serious about it. If you would like to know more about this parade, watch the movie Strut…you truly won’t believe your eyes! It's basically a parade of straight men wearing overly-exaggerated drag queen gowns.

WTF???

New Years Day in Philly, consist of people drinking LARGE amounts of alcohol, which makes the city streets resemble a zoo filled with inebriated gorilla’s.

(which is WHY I stay indoors)

I spent the entire day lying around, watching a few movies and enjoyed my solitude.

I’ve got the next month off from work, so I’ll be starting a project I’ve been wanting to get to, and also spending time with a good friend of mine; hanging out and maybe even taking a day trip to the country.

I always look forward to this month away from work. It enables me to rejuvenate for the busy Spring season, which starts in February.

So as we begin 2009...I would like to share a special award that was given to me from my longtime blogging friend, Akelamalu @ Everything and Nothing. This lovely lady and I have been blogging together ever since we both started. She actually gave me my very first award two years ago, which made me feel like a million bucks! If you haven’t already done so, please stop by and say Hello. She’s a very clever writer, who is also warm and friendly, which will make you feel right at home!

Thanks again, Akelamalu…your loyal friendship is cherished!

So without further ado ….

This is the thinking behind this particular award:

These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.

Drum roll, please……

And the Friends Award goes to:

Nitebyrd @ A Dust Bunny in the Wind

Mel @ Mels Dream

Barbara @ Home in France

Leesa @ News From France

Spiky Jones @ Bit Player Reflects

Debi @ Metabolism Missing

Anndi @ Transition

Linda @ Vulture Peak Muse

And thank you, to not only these eight award recipients, but to all my friends who stop by here...making my life all the more friendlier!

Have a great weekend, everyone!