Sea Foam Dreams

A door with laced windows.

sea foam 5  A vintage coffee pot.sea foam 3A beautiful beaded bracelet.

sea foam 4

A lavish rose-thorned chandelier with glass tear drops  .

sea foam 2A push-button land line phone

sea foam 1

I imagined Sea Foam today

with a glass of wine

and comfortable conversation

and a soft cushion under my bottom.

A friendly chat ensued and I happily wandered

My mind allowed me to wander

To wherever I needed to be

As long as I was free.

For a short while

I was free

Free to be just me.  Just me.

TEE VEE, the new “city” job

I wrote about television and reality shows in another blog post, however, I feel compelled to write about those topics again.

Back in the day the most secure job to have if you did not pursue a professional career was to work for the City & County wherever you reside.  Working a “city job” meant for forty years or so you received a steady pay check with benefits and retirement.  You lived from paycheck to paycheck barely “eking” out a living paying bills, rent, etc., but it was a steady job.

Those nine-to-five days of working-for-the-city job security are long gone  – I myself am a laid off city employee.  The new “city job” happens to be working in television, “reality” television to be exact.  EVERYONE has their own reality tee vee show!  Dwarfs have a show; pit-bull owners and cute kittens and puppies have their own show, girlfriends of celebrity sports players; ex-wives of celebrity entertainers; movie and rap stars have their own shows; preachers; mistresses; gypsies; freaks & geeks; frugal and fetish-obsessed folks have shows.  Hoarders; babys mamas/babies daddies; pageant children; even bald Eskimo tap dancing zucchini farmers are the new normal these days!

I grew up at a time when television was very young commercially.  In the 1960s when I was a child tee vee was very innovative with creative shows that sparked imagination.  I loved watching television, actually tee vee was mine and my younger brother’s baby sitter after we came home from the “latch key” program.  We did not have video games and the internet to utilize, we had to use our imaginations and escaped into our own world with cardboard boxes, hair brushes and oratory – teachers verbalize stories to us and we pretended to be in that world.  We loved television shows back then including, HR Puff N Stuff about a boy who walked inside a hat and found a strange animated world.  One of my favorite nighttime shows was The Wild Wild West, a scientific-themed western.  Just between you and me, I loved seeing Robert Conrad in those tight pants and short-cropped bolero jacket!  Whoo, what a man!  There was I Dream of Jeannie, about a man in love with a genie in a bottle; Bewitched, about a man married to a witch.  By the 1970s television spawned variety shows like Carol Burnett; Sonny and Cher and The Jackson 5 and Osmond Brothers.  My imagination soared from those shows and many others.

These days television is less about escapism and more about obscure voyeurism, watching bankrupt folks and broke celebrity ex-wives and your neighbors publicly embarrass themselves by exposing their darkest secrets for a paycheck.  I personally am not mad at anyone’s hustle, this is a tough economy and people are making money however they can.  But, bring back actors and sitcoms and variety shows!  I am sick of seeing the same tired reality show formula; people drinking too much, fighting, vomiting, dressing poorly, screaming and yelling, sleeping with each other’s mates and using the “toob” to whine and complain about their ills because they can’t afford a therapist.  

The only good thing I see about reality shows is that it sparks a plethora of deals for those so-called “personalities.”  Endorsement deals, books deals, record deals and business deals.  And if that is what it takes to pay those bills I say to you Hollywood star wannbes, “good for you, go on get that money!” Hell, if reality tee vee pitched a show about a woman at mid-life who writes, knits and crochets and lives with two elderly pussies and has an expired bus pass, and I could make money at it, SIGN ME UP!  Of course the stipulation is that I won’t fight with my cats, nor will I expose myself.  Well, unless I can get parts of my body tightened, straitened, plumped and sanded.

Until then, happy tee vee watching for those of us who still care about watching television.

But, when I DO read…

my books 2When I was in my thirties, I returned home and moved back in with my mother after struggling during my twenties as a situation comedy star wannabe in Hollywood.  My mother Doris, a South Bronx native, gave me two choices. 

“Sorry, but  you can’t lay on the couch in a fetal position and have a nervous breakdown.  You can, however, do two things…work or school.  Or both!”

Being the ever dutiful daughter, I worked part-time and returned to college.  It was during those four years that I learned I inherited a hearing impairment gene and I learned I was cognitively dyslexic.  The latter explained much of the pain in my early years that I went through trying to read.  But, losing my hearing, well, it is what it is.

Reading is not my favorite thing to do, but when I DO read I try to find things that capture my attention.  Some things are suggested to me like David Sedaris’ Naked. I was inside the now defunct Stacey’s bookstore and I happened to pick up one of David’s books as suggested to me by an old friend who said David’s style seemed similar to mine.  I thought to myself…

“I have a writing style?  Wow, cool!”

I had never before heard of David Sedaris, but knew of his sister Amy and her “Strangers With Candy” tv show.  I opened to the first few pages of Naked where David pontificated about having the “servants wax his coins…” or whatever it was.  Suddenly I got the part when his mother yelled at him to stop playing around and dressing his cat like a “…two dollar whore.”  I was hooked.  What a great imagination David has.  And what a great way to start a book.

Some books I find accidentally.  I was in Starbucks a couple of years ago and picked up the book, The Art of Racing in the Rain, by Garth Stein.  Not a fan of sentiment, but I thought for a guy the book was very sensitive.  And it was intriguing, I mean I know nothing about the mind of a race car driver.  But, the dog…ah,  forget about it!  I cried for days after I finished that book, and I hate having emotions pulled out of me.  Good read, talented writer.

Sometimes I find writers that I had never before heard of and when I read one of their books I am hooked. Charles Bukowski’s Post Office, for example.  Wow, what a salty, bitter, talented writer Bukowski was!  What a character!

The Metamorphosis I read for a college assignment and against my wishes.  What a truly disturbing book that was!  Sometimes when I am in my living room and I approach my bookcase I turn away from Kafka’s Metamorphosis because I can still see Gregor as a big ole nasty puss-filled roach!  Yikes!

The point of this long-overdue post, I am busy preparing knitting samples foe the holidays, is that I learned after I left Los Angeles what a true “artist” I really am.  Despite hearing impairment and dyslexia, college and having to work a nine-to-five from time-to-time to support myself, I AM an artist who knits, crochets, paints and more importantly, writes.  I am an artist and artists NEVER give up what helps them to breathe.  With that stated, I will continue to read what catches my fancy and I will write with whatever style suits me.  And, since I can’t focus on reading for more than a few minutes at a time I will hire an editor for my own work, well I have no choice.  But, I do edit my blogs which can be a “do” and a “don’t.”  By the way, I read Naked in six days which for me is an Olympian moment! #proud 

One last thing, I DO read female authors, I am discovering many female authors everyday.  Those I have read, Zora Neal Hurston and Toni Morrison, both introduced to me by mom, a voracious reader; Terry McMillian, Maya Angelou; Maxine Hong Kingston and Any Tan to name a few.  Funny, I have never read Amy Sedaris, guess I will have to now. 

The more I discover authors, when I DO read, authors both new and legendary like the great James Baldwin, the less insecure I feel about being dyslexic.

That’s all for now.  Until next time…

Please pick up my book “Spoiled Beyond Recognition” TODAY!  http://www.ldsargent.com/Spoiled.html

Cheers!

“So much to do, so little time…”

Here I am again lamenting that I haven’t enough time in the day to do what I have to do.  I haven’t enough time to write, work on my blogs; websites; Kickstarter campaign; television pilot; pet the cats, AHS; braid my nappy hair; consider dating (still not at the top of my list).  What a mess!  When I was younger I NEVER worried about time, but the older I got time seems more elusive to me than a bi-weekly paycheck.    

I chose to take a leap of faith, a HUGE leap, so I can’t complain.  I chose to FINALLY live my life for ME, although, it is very stressful, but I can’t complain.   I have been so accustomed to walking against the wind down a path that leads no where that “doing for myself” almost seems unbearable, but I won’t complain.  Why?  Because I vowed to make MY life work for me.  And, I believe sometime soon this will all work out because I expect it to.

Until then, I rarely ask for help, but I will ask now.  Here is what I have been up to as of late.  Wish me luck and if you have time please support me by checking out these links!  Cheers!  LDS

TREASURES campaign.

LK!

New BOOK to hit Amazon soon. (see video)

Mocha BLOG

Mocha YT

EBAY

EYE…WRITE…US

One of the major reasons I stopped complaining online about my ailments, depression and other annoyances is because I choose happiness and have done so for awhile.  Besides, no one needs to hear about yet another illness or depressive moment.  But, after today’s eye doctor appointment I am afraid I need to scream to the rafters! 

I have had “issues” with something called Iritis for six months now, just popped up out of nowhere, I mean it feels like sand scratching my eyeballs and there’s inflammation, burning; redness and severe sensitivity to light, all in one setting!  I mean, it hurts like a MOFO!  I literally wake up in the morning and cannot open my eyes without it burning from light sensitivity and throbbing pain.  Sometimes it’s in both eyes, sometimes it’s in one eye.  To get this off my 50 pounds of middle-aged boobage I can either pontificate online or run naked into the streets screaming for Jesus like someone stole my purse.  Thankfully for all of you out there including small children and animals, I chose the former.

First, it’s times like this I wish I was a standup comedian.  Or, better yet, I wish I had my mother to turn to.  If I was depressed about anything in particular especially the physiological aspects of aging, I hate it, mom would reply in her straight-forward, often painfully blunt New York sensibility with a big dose of her wickedly funny Doris’isms. 

          “Well, you can’t be young forever.  Yea, aging is awful, your tits are down to your knees, you fart for no apparent reason and your hair falls out.  Oh, and don’t have kids, whoo!  Your belly grows as big as two full bags of laundry and you get ‘roids.  Oh, and don’t talk to me about teeth!!!  Whooo, your teeth, let me tell you…!”

By the time I’ve grown a six-pack from laughing so hard I am no longer depressed.  Sore, but not depressed.  But, I can’t share my “issues” with Doris, 82, who is in her eleventh year of “living” if you can call it that, with Dementia and Parkinson’s disease. So, I am afraid I must complain here.

All right, so why in hell can’t doctors figure out where this Iritis thing comes from?  I’m the kind of bitch who likes to know what’s going on with my body.  And the name, “I-ri-tis” sounds like a fake-ass illness!  It’s like, my eye hurts, so that’s called EYE-ritis!  I asked the doctor why did Iritis pop up, why do I have it?  He didn’t know.  I asked him where did it come from. 

“Is it due to overuse of the computer?” 

“No.”

“Is it because I’m in my 50’s?” 

“No.”

“Is it because I have my mother’s bunions?” 

“No.” 

“Is it because I have the family ‘five-miles-of-forehead?’”  He chuckled then said flatly,

“No.” 

“Is it ‘cause my hair’s nappy?” 

The doctor said “no” to everything even to my being black.  He told me blacks have a propensity for certain eye problems, but that all my blood tests proved negative. 

“So what then, what?  What?  What?  What?  What?  What?  What the f**k caused this ailment, doc?!”  I did not curse at him, but I sure as hell wanted to.  He could not give me an answer.  Said, NO ONE knows where the idiot Iritis ailment comes from or why it happened in the first place.  Well, isn’t that great to know.

And then he told me something that almost caused me to slap him upside his smooth bald head with my bag Aunt Esther-style. (Aunt Esther from the 1970s show Sanford and Son for those of you not old enough to remember.  And no, I did not hit the man).  He said, “You’ll have to keep using the steroid eye drops probably for the rest of your life.”  Now, mind you, constant use of steroids in any form is not healthy.  By the way, I was also given a shot of steroids in each of my eyeballs, YES a needle to both my eyes a couple of months ago!  Yet, nothing seemed to help.  Then the doctor dropped the ball again, “by the way the steroid eye drops will cause cataracts.”

“Cataracts.  Cataracts?  Did you say…Cataracts?”

“There’s no other medicine to help curb your problem, sorry.”

“So, you’ve got me taking something that I might have to take for the rest of my life AND it WILL give me cataracts?!”

“Basically.  But, you’re already in your 50s, cataracts are bound to get you anyway.  The older you get, the more likely you’ll get cataracts.”

Hmm.  Okay, so getting older mentally, as long as your brain is intact, is cool, but physically aging SUCKS SWEATY BALLS!  Great, got it!  Thanks to whatever deity exits, God’ Allah; Buddha; Bubba; Barbie; etc.  Whatever deity created this f**king world you failed in the physical department, pal, whoooo!!!  Why didn’t you just leave the physical alone?  Why should we get wrinkles, age spots, loose skin; greying thinning hair, stiff joints, separating gums and for women a loose vagina?  Or, at least that’s what my OBGYN seems to think.

I have never had children yet because I’m getting older my OBGYN just a few months ago who was at the end of the examining table scrambling all the way up inside my aged cooch doing macramé or baking a chicken whatever the hell she was doing up there, she told me I will have to do Kegel exercises or my vagina would fall out.  Well, that’s what I heard her say, I think she said I might pee on myself, but first of all I don’t even know what the f**k a Kegel is!  And why would I exercise it to keep from peeing, I never pee on myself!  I now understand why older folks don’t like going to the doctor.  You never hear good news!  They’re always saying negative shit WILL happen to you!

Well, at any rate, I feel a little better now that it’s all off my chest.  I guess what had me upset beside the “unknown,” was that I have had all the pertinent female tests and examinations with in the last three years and I just got my teeth cleaned and so far I am in exemplary health.  And then my eyes started acting up.  Maybe I seek perfection where there isn’t any, but I mean Got-DAM!  Cut an unemployed, but happy “mature” sistah a break, would ya, I mean c’mon!  Oh well, After my exam I contacted my closest friends to complain and rant, one of them does not use the internet so I had to call.  Then I came home, fed my aged cats, treated myself to Vietnamese Basa Fish, rice and a glass (or three) of wine.  Now I am about to bathe in Lavender oil and bubbles and spend the rest of the night forgetting about the events of the day.  Well, of course I’ll have to sleep with steroid drops and wait for the cataracts to form!  But, until that eventful day thanks to all of you who read my post. 

PS- I just thought of something.  I could equally complain that my boy tabby has a urinary infection where I have to give him half of my Famotidine pills every few days or he vomits.  And, my tiny girl Calico Tore has a leaky right eye.  And then there’s me and my Iritis.  I could complain about THAT, but why bother?  That’s what writing and knitting is for, yes? ~sigh~  Hopefully my fingers won’t give out! 

Night! LDS