Our Quiet Leaders

When I think about women who are leaders, I cannot help but think of those who are famous and get lots of attention for their works. Since they do not need any focus, I like to remember the living and breathing women whom the public does not know, and may never, because they are every woman. As a woman and a leader, I am the young tenant next door who hears your cries while your husband yells and pounds you in the wee hours of the morning. I quietly call the Police for help for you, begging them not to say I called. Of course, they did and he now yells at me through the walls. “Report that, Peanut Butter!” Now I cower in bed…

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Woman On The Verge Of Disaster

I’m a woman on the verge because two seven-year-old cats rule my home. In addition, my assertive move to combat this fiasco is to get four fluffy kitten wonders to help shift the power balance, to infuse some clear reasoning on the subject. A few more furry souls to consider in house-rule-voting should break the impasse between the two presiding queens.   I’m a woman on the verge because I’m going to let that feline six-pack thread its way through my whole, albeit quiet, world. I will spend much of my day chasing down their catnip toys and unravelling the ball of yarn and hair they dragged through every chair and table leg, and around three lamps and even my ankles. Still, if those beasts…

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The Survivor Struggle – Part 2

On July 5, 2011, many people, including myself, were shocked to hear the words “Not Guilty” resonate in an Orlando courtroom at the Casey Anthony murder trial. Despite our need or desire to put the puzzle together, we will never know what really happened to beautiful Caylee — not that knowing would make anything better. I really hope that George and Cindy can cope with the result. I sincerely wish them well and hope they do not take on the emotional burden of this murder. I was a victim of severe violence and sex abuse as a child and I felt guilty for doubting Casey’s story. It troubled me because when I spoke out about my own family, they were so well behaved in public,…

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The Survivor Struggle – Part I

In the years since writing this, I am proud to say that not only can I still refrain from breaking into song in local cafes, but I’m also now tackling, head-on, each barrier to my goals. ************ I get in Psychology and Women Studies classes the stuff that keeps me alive.  Sometimes cold, hard reality hurts like hell. But, I guess, that sense of struggling in unison makes all the difference in the world.  And I’m really not dramatizing — or ready to burst out singing “We Are the World,” right here in the Muffin Break on Robson Street. I am very serious…after a wee giggle at the image. A couple of times this term, I seriously considered suicide. I reasoned it out. It wasn’t…

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Never Take Me To A Church That Uses Incense

I have been thinking about what to say about healing between the genders.  Once again, these words do not come easily but that is okay by me. Life would be so boring without a good struggle with which to motivate ourselves. I miss the men in my family.  My Dad, who died in 1990.  Two older brothers, deceased in 1992 and 2009.  Finally, I miss my brother (by my father’s second marriage) who died in February this year at 26. All of these losses are tragic but I still have hope. Sometimes when I am in the drug store, I stop by the after-shave department, twist off the cap of one and take in a nice long inhale of Aqua Velva.  Then I head for…

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Another Note on Mothers

It was a good day today.  I have been fighting with a bit of depression but it could just be a touch of flu.  I’m not sure. I have been so exhausted. I hoped to write more about May’s topic before now but the words have not been flowing.  In fact, I’ve been quite blocked on this issue. To me, it is important to add that I am in awe of great mothers! So often society blames mothers for every little thing, while the father’s role is diminished.  I grew up without a father.  In fact, when I met Dad again (after my parents divorced), my brother introduced me. I had not seen him for 18 years and couldn’t recognize him from his brothers who were…

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Mothers

About two days ago, I realized that I was avoiding this blog.  No. It wasn’t because I felt like a prisoner to it, nor was it due to an evaporation of all ideas.  I stayed clear due to the topic: Mother’s Day.  I honour this day so much!  However, this is probably not for the reason you might think. My mother died on April 15, 2000.  She was 63 and had a heart attack that killed her at home.  I forgot how I got word but, of course, it was a blow, even if a hollow one. You see, Mom and I were never close.  I do remember a handful of good times but that is about all.  In addition, it is hard for me…

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Adventures Between The Ears of Bookmark_Terry

I am at my laptop so much, the dust-bits that hang out between any two keys, are claiming squatter’s right.  Do you believe it? I wouldn’t either.  In fact, they want more than that. They want a support group to help cope with the hostile setting I provide for them. That’s unbelievable! It certainly is. Still, given this utterly ridiculous crisis, I decided to scour my whole apartment from top to bottom.  I even bought a steam cleaner to make it ‘stick’. I may be an Aquarian – allegedly a constant procrastinator — but not this time. I was going to expel those flecks of self-righteous, freeloading dirt. I’d do whatever it took and without delay. Okay. I didn’t need to power-wash the whole place,…

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Musings of A Woman Who Aspires to Be a Bookmark

Uh-oh. Brain Freeze. This is my third post here yet it is as intimidating as the first. How silly of me! Anyway, today I want to recount for you a little incident at the supermarket yesterday. My friend and I were at the cash, crossing fingers and toes that somehow the scanner would burp and slash our grocery prices to, at least, a reasonable range. The very least I wanted from that cash register was for it to shriek in jest as it calculated the ‘customer appreciation day’ discount — which is, in other words, pretty much non-existent. Ah well! The struggle to survive goes on. Anyway, as I stood there, a young mother approached the end of the line about a foot from where…

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