tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-251763502024-03-13T11:16:07.452-05:00Come spy into my looking glass.My view and world are generally a little off kilter. I, myself, have been known to tilt this way and that.
DebbiDebbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.comBlogger303125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-33449477142141873242010-06-10T15:11:00.000-05:002010-06-10T15:21:24.023-05:00IML 2010People as always were friendly and fun. The Hyatt Regency, Chicago was very clean and beautiful. And IML will be there for the next two years. <br /><br />I always think of IML as an arena flea market full of KINK.<br />There were booths for any and all tastes. Leather. Rubber. Latex. You name it….someone had it. <br />Videos. Cock rings and ball weights. Whips, floggers and bamboo were seen. I dare to say any of your twisted little secret desires probably had a place at one of the booths if you sought it out.<br /><br />Instead of Lions and tigers and bears. My mantra was Whips and paddles and floggers, oh my. <br /><br />The first place we hit as always was:<br />The Titan booth. Love my Titan boys. And PERFORMER OF THE YEAR was Titan Exclusive Tony Buff. You knew I’d to mention him. Didn’t you? No? shame on you. <br /><br />Oh, and there was the condom bowls again this year. Though not as many as last year. Maybe they knew we’d be back. Hmm, that could be it, I suppose. We did find free samples of I.D LUBE and those went into our free little back packs from the FOLSOM STREET FAIR. <br /><br />That reminds me, if you should come across some I.D LUBE a word of warning “A little goes a very VERY long way. Trust me!” <br /><br />Ok, now on to the demos that we saw. The inflatable egg was back and a big hit again this year at the RECON booth. We saw the rubber wall that when the air is sucked out it encases their victims immobile. <br /><br />There were floggings, light ones. Paddlings with yelps and moans. There were bondage tables with tied down boys. And others being laced into Full sleep sacks at Mr S. Leather.<br /><br />Oh and there was a fisting cube too. You put a boy in, suck out the air and basically vacuum seal him in. You then can do what you will with him. For ever how long you want to use him. <br />You can fist him. Use toys on him. Edge him to your little hearts desire. <br />And keep in mind, the other end has his head sticking out with him not being able to do anything about anything. You can even turn the box so he is on his back with his face facing up… Another entire range of possibilities. <br />…Ok, I might need to go and dig out some of that I.D LUBE here soon. So let’s move on, shall we? <br /><br />There was a boy who wore nothing but a jock and was handing out postcard size flyer's…out of his butt crack. Someone had written on his lower back ’TAKE ONE’ He was very lively and fun, bent over a table shaking his ass . A pretty young girl went up and took one…and smelled it. LOL. <br /><br />Of course the booths and demos were only half the fun. There were those being lead around on leashes and being kidnapped. And the guy who was tied to a column, blindfolded in chastity in a straight jacket. The people are all part of the experience of the LEATHER MARKET at IML.<br /><br />The dozens upon dozens of booths and spaces were amazing and interesting as always. So very much to take in. I always feel at home. Can’t wait till next year to do it once again.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-1280236803771555592010-05-29T21:57:00.004-05:002010-05-29T22:04:19.780-05:00Grabbys<p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/TAHUXSu6nhI/AAAAAAAAAPU/GnsbZyoOr5s/s1600/Tony%27s+GRABBY+outfit..bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476892118489931282" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/TAHUXSu6nhI/AAAAAAAAAPU/GnsbZyoOr5s/s400/Tony%27s+GRABBY+outfit..bmp" /></a>And here is the anticipated Grabby outfit! Tony Buff and his take amazing Cassock. </p><p>And as of his last post on Twitter. Folsom Flesh has won best fetish film. And his pup, Element had the honor of excepting the award for BLACKBALLED 7 for which he starred in. Way to go Pup! </p><p><br /> </p>Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-60029504297436102422010-05-28T11:34:00.004-05:002010-05-28T12:12:44.380-05:00I.M.L has begunAnd I.M.L 2010 has begun. Leather mart opens at noon. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Shibari</span> class with Tony Buff and Derek <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">DaSilva</span> is this afternoon. And I believe the San Fran party is tonight. Which should prove to be amazing.<br /><br />Instead of Dorothy saying "Lions and tigers and bears, oh my" While walking the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Leathermart</span> I can envision myself murmuring "Whips and paddles and floggers, oh my".<br /><br />All though, I'll <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">bethcha</span> there will be a lot of Bears in attendance as well. ;)Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-80720112922404252212010-05-20T03:15:00.007-05:002010-05-20T03:31:07.137-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/S_TyDzvwXGI/AAAAAAAAAPE/OOYjhzBfG0c/s1600/winners2009.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 380px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 252px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473265594406034530" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/S_TyDzvwXGI/AAAAAAAAAPE/OOYjhzBfG0c/s400/winners2009.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ok</span>, peeps, It is that time of year again. What time would that be? I.M.L of course.<br />Which stands for Mr. International Leather. There is something for every <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">kinkster</span> over memorial weekend.<br /><br />International Mr. Leather has secured the Hyatt Regency Chicago to host the International Mr. Leather competition during the Memorial Day Weekend for the next three years, starting in 2010. Through the diligence of the management teams of both International Mr. Leather and Hyatt Regency Chicago <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Leatherfolk</span> from around the world will again enjoy the unprecedented service and style the Hyatt is best known for. Located in the heart of downtown Chicago, The Hyatt Regency Chicago is ideally situated near the Magnificent Mile, considered one of the greatest avenues in the world. Immerse yourself in our “city within a city,” as this downtown Chicago locale links you to Blues, Jazz, World-Class Cuisine, Grant and Millennium Parks, Lake Michigan beaches and Chicago’s ‘front door, The Navy Pier, just steps away. Reservations for the 32<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">nd</span> annual International Leather competition can now be made through the International Mr. Leather website.<br />In 2010, the annual reunion of the Leather Tribe will begin on Friday, May 28<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span>. The selection of 32<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">nd</span> man to represent the leather community as International Mr. Leather will take place on Sunday, May 30<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span>. The weekend concludes with an all-out victory celebration Monday 31st at the Black and Blue Ball.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">IML</span> History<br />As I look back, the history of International Mr. Leather reads like the history of the leather community itself, though it was never planned that way. It simply grew with the community as we all did, and reflected the best of what the leather community had to offer.<br />In 1979 no one knew that International Mr. Leather would become a phenomenon. I certainly didn't. Together with my then lover and partner, Dom <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Orejudos</span>, I simply wanted to take a good thing a bit further. ...<br />Back then, if you were a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">leatherman</span> coming to Chicago you were coming to the Gold Coast. One of our most popular promotions, the "Mr. Gold Coast Contest," often drew out-of-town contestants. It was so popular it outgrew the bar so we made plans to move it to one of the Michigan Avenue hotels. Dom thought our change of venue called for a change of name. I suggested "Mr. World Leather." Dom, my artistic genius, didn't like the sound. He suggested "International Mr. Leather" and that was that.<br />--<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">IML</span> founder Chuck <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Renslow</span>, from the book International Mr. Leather, 25 Years of Champions<br />The event that, in 1979, outgrew the Gold Coast bar it originated in, has over the thirty years since then outgrown a number of Chicago hotels; expanded from twelve contestants the first year to now drawing regularly over 50 or 60 from a number of countries; and now yearly draws thousands of assorted leather folk of all ages, races, genders and kinks to what is now felt by many to be the Leather Family Reunion.<br />Here, we've brought together the names of all our past contestants and sponsors, along with photos of all the winners, and posters and logos - many of them originally drawn by Chuck <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Renslow's</span> partner Dom <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Orejudos</span>, aka Etienne.<br /><br /><br /><br />A Day Pass is required to enter the Leather Market. A $5.00 suggested donation with all proceeds going to the Leather Archives and Museum. (Note: you must be 21 to enter the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">LEATHERMARKET</span>.<br /><br />Just a few of the dozens of booths that will be present this year are:<br /><br />Visit the LA&M in the Vendor Mart Booth #1004 (leather archives and museum)<br /><br />Bound Gods<br />Chicago hell fire club<br />Mr. S. Leather<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Priape</span>.inc<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Steamworks</span><br />Recon.com<br />And of course <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">TITANMEN</span>.<br /><br />And as Tony Buff says "OWN YOUR FETISH!"<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/S_TyMeXqpBI/AAAAAAAAAPM/xfFGPX-6XKo/s1600/Tony_Buff.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 310px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473265743286674450" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/S_TyMeXqpBI/AAAAAAAAAPM/xfFGPX-6XKo/s400/Tony_Buff.jpg" /></a>Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-54449630189089667112010-05-12T03:33:00.002-05:002010-05-12T03:41:05.162-05:00Helllooo out there<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hellloooo</span> out there in Blogger land. I know it has been a long time-no see. I doubt there is even anyone who still checks in, but in the off chance there is...HELLO!<br /><br />I finally have a new computer. I hate windows 7. Maybe hate is a harsh word. Windows 7 confuses me. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">lol</span>. I loose things. It eats things and send things out into the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Ethernet</span> never to be seen again. And usually it is the most important things that disappear.<br /><br />I have blog posts ready to go, so check back in...OK? yeah, I'm sure you all will. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">lol</span>.<br /><br />I have missed you all. I really have. Now if I can just figure out how to keep all the spam from being added to my comments I'd be a step ahead.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-30151704475470903722009-11-25T02:41:00.002-06:002009-11-25T02:48:23.584-06:00I struggleI struggle.<br />I struggle with many things. Time. Money or lack there of. I struggle with being a mom, almost grandma and work.<br />But the thing I think I struggle with the most is who I am and who I want to be.<br />See, I have no sensor when it comes to just saying what pops in my head and out of my mouth. I just let it fly most of the time. But, I find that I am trying more and more frequently to suppress that urge….and that BUGS THE SHIT OUT OF ME!<br /><br />I want to be that 80 year old woman who farts and yells at the manager at the grocery store because he is trying to make her stop running over people in the motorized wheelchair. “Get out of my way, or YOU’LL BE NEXT box boy!” Ya know?<br />That is who I think I am destined to be. I believe at that age I will have earned the right to be pissy and argumentative. And no one will have the right to take it away from me.<br /><br />I still have a few years before I am THAT 80 year old me. But, I still want to yell at kids at work. I have no problem with giving them stink eye and have the urge to make the little shit ones want to cry. I think, if their parents aren’t watching them and have dumped them in the toy department or on the fitting room sofas. There little asses belong to me. And if they are tearing up my department after I’ve told them to stop i.e running, jumping, climbing, and opening packages, I have the right to throw them out on there little spoiled, snotty asses, or at the very least tell them “Santa Clause hates You, and he is on his cell calling the Easter Bunny as we speak. You’re not getting ANYTHING this year kid. Now whine about that.” And just walk away.<br /><br />It is really hard for me to censor myself sometimes. And I feel that it is not fair that I should have too. I was sitting in a doctor’s office about a year ago and there was a little boy, maybe five. And he was on the floor, crawling around, making a fish face with those fish lips and doing something akin to swimming with his arms. This older woman walks in, takes one look down at the little boy and says. “What are you supposed to be? A fish?” the little boy didn’t miss a beat. He continued to stare at her, and just sucked in his jaws, with the fish lips. She responded “Yep, fish it is.” And walked away. I loved her!Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-50174557156686147452009-11-08T21:15:00.001-06:002009-11-08T21:19:01.950-06:00Dead relativeAnyone who has known me for awhile now, knows about ‘death’ week. This is from October 25 to November 1st. My dad passed on Oct 25, my mom Oct 30 and my only sibling, an older brother on Nov 1st. So, you can see why I call it death week. And no, they weren’t all at the same time. But still…<br />I’ve always felt that whoever decides these things are holding Oct 28 just for …you all can bite me! Then it would make a complete and creepy week.<br /><br />My brother and I weren’t close; I had only talked to him a few times in the eight years since our mother died. I loved him, but just didn’t like him much. He felt the same way about me. He always said that I thought I was better than he and his family. Which I’m not sure if I came off acting like that or not. Point being, we weren’t close.<br /><br />So three years ago when the call came that he had died of a heart attack I was hurt but hurt more by the news that he had died SIX WEEKS EARLIER. Ok. Nothing like letting me know…say SIX FREAKING WEEKS AGO! I can almost say that I wouldn’t have thrown myself onto the casket and wailed…<br /><br />“WHERE ARE MY F**KING PHOTO ALBUMS YOU THIEF”. Almost.<br /><br />So, I have no idea where he is buried or even if he’s buried. They could have cremated him and he’s hanging out in someone’s clothes closet.<br /><br />I can’t help but wonder about that.<br /><br />If you have a dead relative hanging around in a plastic bag in your closet or cedar chest. Do you pull them out at Holidays? Do you set a place? Do you put them at the head of the table as an honored guest and make a toast? Do you pass them around from house to house for different holidays? What is the etiquette for dead relatives in bags?<br /><br />Knowing my brother, he was always stoned. I mean really stoned. So, perhaps they didn’t bury him after all. Maybe they smoked him. And I bet he was really good.<br /><br />Don’t judge me.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-74961364969974047852009-10-24T05:16:00.001-05:002009-10-24T05:19:06.228-05:00Baby showerOh dear me. This past Saturday was my daughter’s baby shower. There were maybe 40 people there. That’s a lot of people for a baby shower. But not as many as they kept saying had R.S.V.P.ed. That number was 55. Why would you pad that number? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lol</span>.<br />The in-laws had rented a room at the aqua center. What ever happened to just having it in the church basement? But on second thought I’m glad they <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">didn</span>’t because then it really would have been THEM against US. And, my friends and I might just have burst into flames several times during the day. Honestly.<br />All the church ladies were in attendance. What? You don’t now about the church ladies? Well, sit back and let me fill you in. At my daughters wedding shower they actually stood up and gave testimonies on how to keep her husband happy, like….getting up an hour earlier than him so he never sees you without makeup. Like it would kill him. If I have to wash his shitty underwear, then by god he gets to see me with all my blemishes and smell my bad breath.<br />And it went on and on. We of course seated in the way back. And it is always the same core group of us that cause trouble. Me and my two best friends. Jodie and Michelle. See, we can get in trouble ANYWHERE. It’s always like having an angel and a devil on my shoulders. And I can be lured either way. There is also my sister in law and my other daughter who tries very hard to keep us behaving ourselves. This is also the shower she came dressed in pink terrycloth. What the hell? There are only two occasions to wear terrycloth. The beach and getting out of the shower and this <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">wasn</span>’t that kind of shower. Might have made those church ladies squirm though. Because I’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ve</span> never had a problem taking off….<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ok</span>, I digress…<br /><br />We get to the baby shower; find a table in the way back. I sit in the middle with my back to the wall, looking out into the room. Michelle sat to my right, Jodie to my left. Everyone else around us at our two tables. Everyone was her friends/in-law family and church ladies. I never know what to say to them. And I really believe they just feel the same. We have nothing in common, except their son and my daughter. And well, the baby girl coming in Dec.<br />They stood up and asked if they could say Grace and half the room looked at our table. What the hell? I have no problem with you saying grace, lady. Knock your socks off. Well…She started out with “Dear Lord bless our food…” Then it went down hill from there. “Lord. Dear Lord, our Lord, Sweet Lord, Sweet baby Jesus Lord…” I look up and everyone at our table was looking at me like dear in headlights. Someone said “How many times can you say Lord in a three minute grace?” Michelle says “27” “Oh god don’t. Don’t make me start to laugh”<br />Mother in law then says “Everyone go and get food”<br /><br />OK, YOU ALL NEED TO UNDERSTAND SOMETHING HERE FIRST.<br /><br />I had been really sick for two days. I also had a head cold. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">couldn</span>’t hear how loud I was talking…are you seeing where I’m going with this???<br />Everyone starts to get up to get food. I say, thinking only people at our table could hear me, and all know my sarcastic bent. “So, seeing that they got to say Grace, does that mean our (hand gesture indicating our entire table) Coven gets to give the final benediction? Everyone froze. They heard me. Everyone it seems in the room heard me. So, for the rest of the day. Every time I looked up someone was staring at us. Every time.<br /><br />Baby games were next. Our table won 5 out of 12. One of the games was finish the nursery rhymes. Thank God we <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">didn</span>’t have to stand up and recite them, because Michelle was reciting dirty ones. ‘Old mother Hubbard went to her cupboard…and something about springing a boner…” I looked at her and said. “You know were all going to hell, right?”<br /><br />One of the many things I brought for the food table besides Chicken and Cake was brownies. Lots and lots of brownies. I should have added one more ingredient. That would have loosened up the church ladies for sure. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Lol</span>.<br /><br />So, who’s in for Christmas? This should be interesting.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-43685182957814109252009-09-19T02:41:00.007-05:002009-09-19T03:51:41.811-05:00Ketiva ve-chatima tovahI more often than not feel on the outside looking in. This could be because of what ever is going on inside my brain or I'm still the 'weird' kid you all remember from school. You know you all still remember that one kid who sat by themselves. Ate lunch alone, reading. Yep, that was me. Does that surprise any of you? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lol</span>. It shouldn't.<br />I know it's just me, but I've been seeing glimpses of a white wolf. He's there one second then gone. A few short months ago I would have just acknowledged him as a new spirit guide or power animal. But now, not so sure. My vision isn't as good as it used to be, and the headaches do make things blurry at times. So, not so sure anymore if he's really there for me to see, or if he's something else entirely. Nothing in fact. But I have caught a glimpse of him standing fully in the aisle at work, just for a half second, blink and he was gone. And in my own yard. Dogs seem to act like something is there though.<br /><br />Tonight we came out of work, and there were BATS. Yes, real ones. We've never seen bats at work. Hell, I'd never seen a real bat anywhere. There were two of them and they were perched on a bench right outside of our store doors...just watching us. As cool as it was, it was very strange. Magical even.<br /><br />I came home, pulled in and the wolf was standing in my yard. Then he was gone. I'm not sure what he symbolizes or is trying to convey but he has my attention. The bats...those are something new, and EVERYONE saw those. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">lol</span>.<br /><br />And Today is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Rosh</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Hashanah</span>. Which is the Hebrew New Year!<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ketiva</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ve</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">chatima</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">tovah</span>. translates “May You Be Written and Sealed (in the Book of Life) for a Good (coming) Year’ I extend my wishes to all!<br /><br />I bring this up and wish you all the best because, well first, because it's the right thing to do and I have been having a really, REALLY difficult week. Bill collectors calling. No money. Bad health. Married daughter acting horrible. Just negativity from all sides crashing down on my head.<br /><br />But according to my Good Friend Chris <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Yosef</span>:<br />"The cosmic window opening over the next 2 days is for everyone! We can use it to literally correct and remove all the negativity we created. According to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">kabbalah</span>, no matter HOW MANY negative actions we've committed, our true essence the creator within, Never becomes diminished! At <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Rosh</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Hashanah</span> we reconnect both to our origin as individuals and also to the origin of humankind, We are literally born anew! Along with doubt another of our negative qualities is the ability to settle. We get ourselves in a difficult situation, and we get use to it. It's kind of like re-arranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. The boat is sinking but we try to make the chairs look nicer. We settle. The truth is we have unlimited potential so we should not be comfortable with anything but unlimited results!" He's so wise. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">lol</span>.<br /><br />So, you see, I'm still the weird kid. The outsider who says and reveals way too much and gets the eye roll I'm sure. But now I have no problem eating my lunch alone, reading my book. Maybe I'll whistle and my new white wolf friend will come and sit with me.<br /><br />If anyone has any inside thoughts as to what the message might be they are bringing. Feel free to comment. Comfort perhaps. A sign that they haven't left. Or something entirely different. I don't know at this point.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-77977798220374237152009-09-13T00:09:00.002-05:002009-09-13T00:11:03.127-05:00Blood workI have half my tests results back. The blood work and liver functions are all normal. Still waiting on the EEG though.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-57672630350963122162009-09-13T00:02:00.003-05:002009-09-13T00:09:05.930-05:00Dreaming cats. Not dreaming OF cats.Tonight the cat was sleeping on my bed. Now, I know dogs dream, I've seen mine dreaming of running, twitching, whining. But cats? honestly, I've never thought about it. But she was sleeping. No twitching, no whiskers moving, not a tense muscle when all of a sudden she went 'MEOW. MEOW" I looked over at her and she was dead sound asleep. She was talking or better yet meowing in her sleep. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">LOL</span>. It was so funny. Just thought I'd share.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-38392614299131669292009-09-01T02:28:00.002-05:002009-09-01T02:38:32.535-05:00I'm back!It's been a long time since I posted, I know, BAD BLOGGER!<br />Summer came and summer went! the fairs came and went, kids went back to school.<br />Megan is full time, she is taking her coding classes now. She says she likes those, but the customer service class is boring and a pain in the ass. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lol</span>. Then sometime either this year she will take her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">phlebotomy</span> classes.<br /><br />Patrick graduated high school and is now taking his EMT classes through the fire dept. I still think at some point he'll take this training into the service.<br /><br />Probably a good thing that two of my three kids are going into the health field. For myself I go on wed for an extended two hour EEG at Loyola <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Hospital</span>. I have swelling on the left side of my brain, with no reason for it at this point. But then again, I just found this out when I changed Neurologists. The first one NEVER told me the results of the EEG from last January. Don't you think that at some point he would or should have taken a second one to see if the swelling had increased or decreased? Putz.<br /><br />My oldest is now 5 1/2 months <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">pregnant</span> and isn't as much a mom <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">zilla</span> as she was, but she is still bitchy. I honestly don't think I was ever that bad with my three. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">LOL</span>. I even asked my husband if I was that crazy?<br />She's having a GIRL. Can't wait to meet her. But I would have bet money on a boy. And I'm still wondering if 'he' is just hiding it. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Lol</span>.<br /><br />I promise to post more and more often. I swear!Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-83691410162515962812009-07-14T17:49:00.005-05:002009-07-14T19:38:45.797-05:00IML pics<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/Sl0cv2wZofI/AAAAAAAAAOc/i9_dDx7NPUI/s1600-h/sleep+sack.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358470740118708722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 188px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/Sl0cv2wZofI/AAAAAAAAAOc/i9_dDx7NPUI/s320/sleep+sack.jpg" border="0" /></a> The boy being laced into the sleep sack. Courtesy of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">MrSLeather</span>.<br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/Sl0VOFY2lmI/AAAAAAAAAOU/cfpcRyoQrJs/s1600-h/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358462463349528162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/Sl0VOFY2lmI/AAAAAAAAAOU/cfpcRyoQrJs/s320/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+028.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This was at the RECON Booth. This was a little thing called an Alien Egg. There was a boy inside. The four sides closed up around him. They opened down like petals on a flower. It appeared to be inflatable and he was sweating buckets. At one point he went down inside for a long period. He had on a rubber hood which looked to keep out all sound and light. And inside the Egg it must have been a sensory deprivation experience. We watched for awhile, it was really interesting. They would move him around. Bang on the sides, which would cause the Egg to vibrate and jiggle. Reach in and touch and rub him. Then when he would start to struggle and move they would let him be to calm down and 'go back into his head space'. </div><div>They then took the petals down. Finally taking him out (I have no idea how long they had been taking him in and out of the Egg at this point either) When they removed him, he couldn't hardly stand on his own and needed to be helped to stand and walk. Really wild.<br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/Sl0NuEWHlUI/AAAAAAAAAOM/tS6Fx4tXlOM/s1600-h/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+029.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358454216732415298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/Sl0NuEWHlUI/AAAAAAAAAOM/tS6Fx4tXlOM/s320/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+029.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />...and This guy.... Well, was just standing there. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">lol</span>. I hope he was part of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">MrS</span> and didn't belong to someone who just left him on his own. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">lol</span>.<br /></div><div>I wish I had taken a lot more pictures, but honestly it was like being in Oz. There was so much to take in that I forgot to take pictures. And there are pictures that I won't be putting up on here. Privacy people. lol. Not mine, I have nothing to hide! haven't you all figured that out by now? :)-</div><div><br /> </div><div></div></div>Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-69902696884851739062009-07-14T17:07:00.004-05:002009-07-14T17:18:32.525-05:00Journey<div align="center">Friend.<br />Lover.<br />Soul mate.<br /><br />Connection.<br />Desire.<br />Intensity.</div><div align="center"><br />Trust.<br />Surrender.<br />Tears.<br /><br />Capture.<br />Bound.<br />Confession.<br /><br />Pain.<br />Pleasure.<br />Release.<br /><br />Truth.<br />Love.<br />Honesty.</div>Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-27458411320774792722009-07-07T21:16:00.003-05:002009-07-07T21:44:40.026-05:00Birthday Tattoo<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SlQDDqJQqvI/AAAAAAAAAOE/DqqwRE1Mkh4/s1600-h/Tattoos+and+necklace+009.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355909218237983474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SlQDDqJQqvI/AAAAAAAAAOE/DqqwRE1Mkh4/s320/Tattoos+and+necklace+009.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I was asked today by one of my girlfriends, Michelle "What plans do you have for your birthday? and what do you want?" </div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span>, my birthday isn't until late next month, and if she's already thinking about it...well, that's scary. cause it means she's thinking of 'something'. She says she's thinking of taking a small 'trip'</div><div>See the tattoo up there? yeah, that was her. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">lol</span>. Michelle, doesn't do anything 'small'. </div><div> </div><div>For the Tattoo birthday she took me out for a nice lunch. Plied me with alcohol. I don't drink. Then asked me "What do you want for your birthday?" Honest to God. I had never in my life thought of getting a tattoo. Nope not once. And out of my mouth the words came. "A tattoo, maybe a tiny little sun" Well, before I could finish my last sip, I was in the tattoo parlor and was looking at pictures and before I knew it I had picked out this LARGE wolf. Three hours later and with no skin left on my back. I was the owner of said wolf. But I do like him though. Some day maybe I will go back to add more color in the feathers. </div><div> </div><div>Then she asks "Do you have a passport?" ???? WHAT?? no, I have no passport. And I'm not getting one, if my birthday is going to include me being Louise to your Thelma. And if it might include any sort of Mexican Border Patrols in the middle of the night? Thank you...NO! </div><div>I can not and will not be driving or God forbid running for any borders clutching my suitcase to my chest, thank you! She giggled. She didn't deny it, but just giggled. I think I might be out of the state that last week in August! </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div>Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-84644438992293164502009-07-04T21:17:00.006-05:002009-07-04T23:22:38.798-05:00Fetish pic.<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SlATl1KvNLI/AAAAAAAAAN8/-geJGZFMv6Y/s1600-h/Tattoos+and+necklace+012.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354801497591723186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SlATl1KvNLI/AAAAAAAAAN8/-geJGZFMv6Y/s320/Tattoos+and+necklace+012.jpg" border="0" /></a> My peeps in Seattle (do they still say Peeps?) <a href="http://tonybuff.com/">http://tonybuff.com/</a> and <a href="http://sextanza.com/">http://sextanza.com/</a><br />were having a Twitter fetish contest the other night. And needed us to twitter in a pic with some sort of fetish content. Well, the closest thing I might have lying around would have been my 4H animal whips and paraphernalia. But, first I needed to find it all.<br />So, as I walked from barn to barn collecting it all, my arms getting fuller. My husband on the riding mower was watching me. He stopped and asked me "What are you doing?"<br />"I'm taking a picture" I said and kept hunting. He followed me into the hog barn. I was bent over at the waist in the show box digging through it throwing things out over my shoulder. Cans of Pig Shine. Pig Paint. Fly swatters. Swine water-ers, all flying out. But I wasn't finding the things I was looking for. See, in MY mind I knew what I wanted for my FETISH picture. The same type of things that could also be used in any kinky bedroom. Not that I've ever thought of them in that way. No, who? Me? no, nah...<br /><a href="http://sextanza.com/"></a><br />"Where is that Red whip?" Where is Megan's Pink Pig stick?" "Why the hell can't I find any of the Steer collars or ropes? don't we have more rope? WHERE ARE THE ROPES?"<br />By now he was back on the lawnmower. "Why? what is this picture for?" he kept asking.<br /><br />"Stop asking me a million questions that you don't want the answers too." I told him as I walked to the steer barn. But, he wouldn't stop. He kept nagging. And kept following me on the mower. Asking question after question. Why why why what what what. I finally couldn't take it anymore, and with my arms overflowing with whips, harnesses, halters, and show sticks. I stopped, swung around and just looked him dead in the eye.<br />"I told you to stop asking me questions you don't want the answers too. So do you really want to know what I need this picture for?" He got all cocky.<br />"Ok, So, here is what you don't want the answer too. My friends in Seattle want a picture. They are going to a sex party. And are having a fetish photo contest. And I'm sending one in!<br />These are the same people Jodie and I went downtown to meet at IML Yes, we went down to the leather mart and had one hell of great time with all of the them. I was in HEAVEN! And will be going back next year!<br />And...I blogged about CONDOMS ON TABLES! And it got picked up by the LEATHER ARCHIVES AND MUSEUM. I was totally honored!...."<br /><br />He put his hands over his ears and said. "I don't want hear anymore." and motored away.<br />He acts like he doesn't want to know. But if he really didn't want to know, then he wouldn't have kept asking a million questions about why and what I was doing and following me from barn to barn. Honestly....<br /><br />Sidenote:<br />I passed on the Pig feeders. Bowls. Enclosers. Pens and paddocks. THAT picture WOULD have been hard to explain to him. LOL. He would not have gotten that one. Besides, I didn't have any little curly piggy tails...Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-34942451041982570182009-06-16T23:45:00.001-05:002009-06-16T23:48:25.481-05:00IML condom tableThere were tables set up throughout the hallways and entryways in the leather market. On them were HUGE bowls of Condoms. All types of Condoms. Different sizes, brands, colors and even some for females. As we came in Jodie and I shyly looked through the bowls and picked out a few and dropped them into our purses. An hour later, we were taking hands full, and by the end we were rummaging through like it was a yard sale, on ten cent day. “Ooh, purple ones.” I exclaimed holding up a packet for her to see. “I have that one” she smiled back. It still makes me giggle just thinking about it.<br /><br /> We had to stop at one point to sign something and a very cute, nearly naked twenty something boy was standing at the booth helping us as we filled out a form, as we pulled out a pen he saw our large collection of by now of condoms and laughed. Jodie blurted out “I have a teenage daughter.” and looked over at me to say something. I responded. “I have an eighteen year old son. He’s gonna find condoms everywhere he goes. In his bed. Every drawer he opens. Every time he opens his glove box. Hell, their gonna fall out of his shoes” The boy just laughed. “Whatever it takes mom” His smile was sweet.<br /><br />On our way out to leave we hit the last table one more time and loaded up one last time. That’s when we found the female ones. Really? Those surprised us at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">IML</span>. But we took some of those too. By now, our purses <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">runnith</span> over. But the funniest thing almost happened on the train home. We were sitting talking about all we had seen. Across the aisle were an entire gaggle of senior citizens. The train suddenly lurched sideways and in slow motion my purse started to fall…Jodie and I grabbed for it at the same time. All I could think of was O-M-G ALL THOSE CONDOMS ON THE FLOOR! Red ones, blue ones, purples ones. And I’m talking at least 50 condoms. ALL OVER THE TRAIN FLOOR. What would they have thought? But we grabbed it in time. We both sat there, me clutching the purse to my chest. Jodie breathing hard. Both our eyes wide.<br /> “That was close”<br /> “Yeah it was” We both started to giggle like teenagers. Nothing like having a little secret. Then we sat and read my copy of the newspaper I had picked up. The LEATHER JOURNAL. Oh hell, let them think what they will.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-80102534319404018632009-06-16T03:08:00.001-05:002009-06-16T03:22:39.827-05:00IML Part oneIML<br />On the walk to the IML host hotel, the closer we got the closer it became apparent that we were definitely in the minority. This didn’t come as a huge surprise though. Two 35 year old (uh huh, yeah, right, gonna be 35 for another ten years…Yep) straight woman walking towards IML.<br />As we walked along and we were passed by two leather men and heard “Those are chicks” Jodie and I laughed. We entered IML and another world. And I have to say we could not have asked to have been treated better. Honestly. Everyone treated us with kindness and respect. From the men at the reception desk to the cute guy who waved us in ala a genie from Aladdin.<br /><br /> Even when I had to use the CO-ED bathroom. If the boy’s didn’t mind I didn’t mind. And when I say BOY. I don’t mean literally a boy, or little boy. A boy can be any age, or any gender actually. But, for this post, let’s just say male, over 21.<br /><br />We stood at the top of the steps looking out and down on the leather market. Imagine a flea market, with aisle upon aisle of x-rated goods. The shoppers, in leather and rubber and naked butts everywhere. We even saw a few superheroes thrown in. Then imagine people trying on items and getting fitted for harnesses, and jocks and corsets oh my. And all the while videos are playing all around you. Boys are being zipped into sleep sacks, and rubber cubes and onto modified St Andrew’ Crosses and Jodie and I are walking around taking it all in. I was in HEAVEN.<br />We walked past a vendor where there were a few men standing who stood about as tall as a doorway who whispered as we walked past. “Those are women. REAL women.” Jodie looked at me. “Do we not look like real woman?” She asked. I laughed looking down at my sizable chest. “Maybe it’s my boobs. Hell, if they were fake, you’d think they’d be standing at better attention” I told her. We continued on.<br />We stopped at the RECON booth to watch a boy being zipped into an alien egg. That was wild.<br /><br />And we watched demos. We saw a rubber box were a boy was put inside and all the air was sucked out. He was encased inside, everything except his head. Then he was turned on his side, then upside down.<br />We couldn’t find a flogging demo. I would have watched that. Jodie probably not so much. Although she was a trooper about everything else.<br />We passed a bunch of rubber clad men passing us. They stopped and looked back at us. “Those are females” At his point. Jodie and I just laughed. We weren’t the only women in the place, but it was close. There were those who were vendors or in leather or with men, we were none of those. So, we were a minority. And there were probably, five of us walking among a thousand men. Ok, maybe there were more than that, but honestly that’s about all the women we saw in our category and I’m stretching the number.<br />At one point, Jodie said. “I kind of feel like a science experiment.” I laughed and said. “I feel right at home. You could put me on a stage with a crown on my head. I LOVE THIS!” “Of course you do!” She said. And left me standing at the Mr.S leather booth watching a boy getting laced up in a full leather sleep sack.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-63925097733237921862009-06-15T23:24:00.002-05:002009-06-15T23:30:55.410-05:00TRUSTBack in my twenties, when I was experimenting. I would gladly tie up my boyfriend, anytime he wanted me too. And anytime ‘I’ wanted him to, too.<br />But, never would I allow him to tie me up. It came down to trust. Sure, I loved him. I would do anything for him. But I didn’t trust him. Not on that kind of level. I’ve never trusted anyone that much.<br />Back then I also was beginning to get the first discernable memory flashes of some of my past lives. And along with them, the mistrust and fear that came along with the bits and pieces of those memories. At that point there was NO WAY on earth NO ONE was tying me to anything, and that was a simple and non-negotiable fact. Due mostly to the fear I had of being tied up and killed. Mostly drowned. See, I have past life memories, dreams and visions of being a persecuted witch, several times in fact…and most of them include being tied up and drowned. Tied down and drowned, being a male sailor and being flogged and either falling overboard or being thrown over, not sure and drowning. Can ya see where my aversion to water comes from?<br /><br />Yeah! I don’t do beaches, or pools much either. Don’t really even like to put my tootsies in to deep, anything over my stomach and it just takes my breath away. I barely learnt to swim enough to get though high school. All my friends know, I’m not the person you want to count on to save you if you’re going under for the third time. Sure, I’ll jump in and try to save you, but then someone else might have to save us both.<br />So, oh yeah, trust. Back when these little gems began to work themselves up and out of my stored memories banks, there was no way I was going to allow myself to be put into any situation where I was not in complete control. And being tied down or left someplace where I wasn’t in control wasn’t going to do it. Now, in theory and fantasy it all works out just fine. But in practice and practicality, not so much.<br /><br />Over the years I’ve met some very interesting people and groups of people who came in and out of my life, some VERY quickly. I worked in a metaphysical shop for a while. And on occasions was invited by some very nice people to come and join in for different events. But the minute they would say. “Oh it’s being held in the woods. Or on a deserted beach.” No thanks, I think I’ll pass.” I’d say. I’ve seen enough lifetime movies. I’m not gonna be the main course or the sacrificial lamb, thanks, but no. See, I just don’t trust people, not that much, not with my life in their hands, when they hold ALL the cards.<br />But I probably wouldn’t have gotten into those woods or onto that beach anyhow. My guides would have blocked the doors, had my car breakdown or found some other way to keep me from going. They’d done it before.<br /><br />Those tiny little voices can be just nagging and a poking atcha feeling. Other times they can be loud and persistent. Both to get my attention. The same goes for when they are silent.<br /><br />SILENCE can be the loudest sound of all.<br /><br />I used to just get the uneasy feelings. The ones that made the hair stand up and I just knew that I wasn’t supposed to go. Then they began to whisper, and then talk. Now they just come and say “Yeah, whatever, Tell them, NO WAY! MOVE ALONG, NOT COMING!” you get my point. And yes, they can be outright rude sometimes. My guys are not the sit around on clouds meditating and contemplating kind of guides. I really wonder what kind of notice went out when they were looking for guides for me. And what it said? Because I picture mine as being rebels of sorts in the guide world. The ones that they have trouble placing, and were probably relieved to have found ME to give these guys something to do for awhile. But, according to my main guide James Malcolm when asked how long he had been with me? He gently touched my cheek and said. “Forever” So, that would explain why we argue like an old married couple at times. Lol. Him. I trust. Them. I trust. Which says a lot. <br /><br />As they screened the people in the store and shielded me from them. They’ve also found and continue to find me some very dear friends. Funny how they work. I met my very Best Friend Jodie online. My guides must have talked to her Guides and she sent me an email…which she had NEVER done before and we connected. (We were members of the same online group. We had seen each other online but had never talked in person or even emailed, she had an extra ticket to an outdoor concert and lived close to me. Her teenage daughter’s friend couldn’t go and she was offering it to me. Hanson if you must know. LOL. I answered her email; we called each other, met at the concert. Try finding someone standing in hundreds of people and all you have to go on is what they are wearing? Lol. Yet I found her. And we had a blast. We’ve been best friends now for 8 years.) Guides did good. They do that now and then when there is someone they need me to meet or connect too. They find a way for me to meet them.<br /><br />This seems to happening a lot more lately. How does the saying go “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear?” I hope so. New beginnings!<br /><br />I trust my guides. I trust when they tell me that this year is my year to shed the old, and look to the new. I trust when they say “He is coming.” Who he is? They wouldn’t and still won'telaborate. They said that three or four months ago.<br /><br />And young guide Paul also let slip “And don’t forget Kensington” and was soundly yelled at for it. “Shut up! Don’t influence her in any way. She has FREE WILL.” James Malcolm scolded Paul. I found that conversation between them very interesting. Yep, this occurred while I was driving that day. They just had this conversation all around me while I’m sitting in the middle of them. <br /> So, who or what is KENSINGTON? A person? A Street? A publishing house? I still don’t know.<br /><br />But there are things I do know.<br />I KNOW I can write.<br />I KNOW I count.<br />I KNOW I was meant to be here.<br />And I KNOW I have purpose.<br />I was given gifts, and I KNOW I WILL NOT WASTE THEM!<br /><br />I just have to learn to TRUST in MYSELF, that is what this year is about!Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-39199490860235889702009-05-31T13:27:00.004-05:002009-05-31T14:08:03.307-05:00Pictures<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SiLS9jWqeWI/AAAAAAAAAN0/Ddu3D-uJqEM/s1600-h/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+011.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342064062918981986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SiLS9jWqeWI/AAAAAAAAAN0/Ddu3D-uJqEM/s200/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+011.jpg" border="0" /></a> Busy week. Here are a few pictures: Top picture is Patrick leaving for Prom. Could double for his future job in the CIA I suppose. lol. It's the glasses.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SiLRSPxRGlI/AAAAAAAAANs/B7pKysQXy5Y/s1600-h/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342062219415853650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SiLRSPxRGlI/AAAAAAAAANs/B7pKysQXy5Y/s200/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+019.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />He finally made it! There was actually a diploma in there. YAY! These are my three babies. From left to right. Megan. Patrick and Deanna. Middle, youngest, oldest. And a secret....Deanna, is having a baby. Yep, I'm gonna be Bubi. I'm so HAPPY!<br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SiLOmvS95TI/AAAAAAAAANk/EsY1McyTZQM/s1600-h/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342059272941200690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/SiLOmvS95TI/AAAAAAAAANk/EsY1McyTZQM/s200/Patricks+Graduation+Prom+IML+003.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Patrick's Senior Picture. Gotta say, his was the most unique. He is a vol fireman for our little town. He loves it! He looks about 14 in this pic though. lol. But he is 18.<br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-11066919017593642722009-05-21T01:19:00.002-05:002009-05-21T01:34:59.653-05:00YogurtI went to pick up some water, fruit and yogurt tonight. I picked up a few different type of yogurts other than what I usually get with my little 80 calories.<br />Did you know that:<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Breyers</span> Yo crunch yogurt either with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Butter finger</span> or M&M toppings has 200 calories. <br />200 calories, for one little yogurt. If I'm gonna be eating 200 calories...it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ain't</span> gonna be wasted on a yogurt that's for sure.<br /><br />...SOMEONE PASS ME THAT <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">HOHO</span>!Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-26342591711132416402009-05-09T20:25:00.003-05:002009-05-09T20:58:24.048-05:00Head spaceWhat is Head Space? I think of it as that place were you go when you 'zone out'.<br />But there are many different ways to get there though. We've all done it watching TV. Doing the laundry. Even listening to our spouses. "Uh huh...yeah...whatever you want to do...." And before we know it, we've agreed to vacations with our in laws for six weeks in the summer with no chance of parole. YIKES.<br /><br />I do it when I write. I sit down at the computer, put on the headphones, turn up the music and 'zone out' I then let the story go where it will. 80% of the time, I've already gotten the idea of what it is about, but how it will get there or what will happen on the way might still be a mystery. Granted there have been a lot of surprises. Stories that have really written themselves. I sat down thinking they would start and end one way, only to find that they ended up completely different than how I had expected them too. And I wrote it.<br /><br />There is also the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">HeadSpace</span> needed when we studied in school. Nose to the grindstone. Cracking that book. Cram all of that knowledge into our brains for a final. We needed to be in a position to allow ourselves to accept that we needed to think of nothing else but those tests or papers that were haunting our every moment. We needed to block everything else out....hence HEAD SPACE.<br /><br />When we Play or have Sex together or alone we often fantasize. This too puts us into a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">HeadSpace</span> of our own making. It can be simple or very complex and elaborate. We decide. Again into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">HeadSpace</span> we go. The zoning out, or zoning in is more like it. I believe we connect with ourselves on deeper levels when we zone in while we are surfing around in our little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">HeadSpace</span>. No one is there to tell us to pay bills, or pick up the kids, or ask what is for dinner. We are in charge, we have the power. We are the ones who can give ourselves the freedom to write, to create, to scream.<br /><br />We just need to look inside.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-72550225827689682232009-05-08T01:36:00.003-05:002009-05-08T01:45:51.917-05:00Didn't I already do high school?Will I never be finished with high school? and here I thought I had graduated in 1979. Nope, I'm still doing last minute projects and scrambling to get things finished to make sure there is a diploma waiting at the end of the line....<br /><br />...only this time, it is for child number three. And thankfully...the last one.<br />Tonight, it was making deviled eggs for my Home <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">EC</span> final. Who knew I was still taking Home <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">EC</span>. I sure didn't. So, I took him into the kitchen, showed him how to make them, and WE, meaning ME made them. What a pain in my...<br />Didn't I make a purple apron about a hundred years ago to pass my own final?? I think so. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Geeze</span>.<br /><br />...now, he's on his own with the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">cabinet</span> making. I know nothing about that.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-67333830518900819532009-05-01T17:09:00.002-05:002009-05-01T17:24:27.007-05:00Prom nightTonight is my youngest and only son's prom. He went stag. Yep, he went by himself. He bought a ticket, rented a tux, and drove himself. I don't know how to feel. I'm torn between wanting to feel a bit sad and feeling proud that it doesn't bother him that he didn't have a date. (girl he really wanted to take, couldn't go at the last minute due to last minute sheep debacle' yes, sheep) So, he went alone.<br /><br />This isn't my only child that bucked the system. His older sister, my oldest...went with a girl. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lol</span>. On prom day, the two girls were stood up by their dates, two fellas from another school who never showed. Didn't fazed em. They took each other. Tickets were already bought. They were dressed and looked beautiful. So off they went to have a wicked time.<br />My middle daughter is the only one who took the standard route.<br /><br />I hope he has a wonderful time and wins something really cool at post prom and doesn't get into any fights. He does tend to get into fights when there are big mouth show off boyfriends talking shit or talking down to their dates. I can't tell you how many times I've had girls parents call me telling me that my son stood up for their daughters. He's been suspended, had detentions and I've talked to three different principals over the years all whom have sided with Patrick over this issue. He will not stand for guys bullying girls. And will not stand down or walk away, even if it means getting his own ass kicked.<br />So, we'll see what happens after prom or during post prom.Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25176350.post-37391774293605117532009-04-30T05:03:00.004-05:002009-05-05T03:58:35.038-05:00Colin<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/Sfl4KQOuCVI/AAAAAAAAANc/Q0g5Px5PPe4/s1600-h/Make_me_a_super_model_Meet_Colin_1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330423751520422226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B89vOjiBq24/Sfl4KQOuCVI/AAAAAAAAANc/Q0g5Px5PPe4/s400/Make_me_a_super_model_Meet_Colin_1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Oh, Oh Colin. Sad to see you go! I think you should have gotten at least one more week. Amanda should have gone this week. What the hell was with laying on the horse? </div><div>Yeah, yeah, you had a hard time with the calf, who hasn't. Those little buggers are slippery. Not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">slimy</span>, but a hand full. Anyhow, wish you the best. Sure we'll see you at some Bravo wrap up show. </div>Debbihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972398826832177713noreply@blogger.com0