Booby traps....

"I didn't discover curves, I only uncovered them." Mae West

In the middle of a design presentation to a client today, lost in the moment's excitement over a perfect combination of fabrics and trims, I suddenly felt myself being held at knifepoint. The tip of the razor sharp blade was poised right between two ribs. I dare not exhale, lest my side be pierced by the weapon poking so rudely, so menacingly embedded in my flesh. Afraid to breathe, afraid to move, my stream of thought switched in an instant from total delight and accomplishment... to relentless misery and dread.

The underwire inside my bra had escaped its confinement. The escapee was free and on the loose. I was doomed. There is no way to nonchalantly rearrange my female anatomy in such a situation. It's not as if breasts can be discreetly flexed a few inches higher or lower, to the right or to the left to dodge the wayward underwire. I did what any woman might do... stood straighter, crossed my arms in an attempt to tame the beast as I squeezed my arms into my sides. The point of the underwire only increased its pressure.

And so... for the next hour, I suffered in silence, my mind half on the project at hand while the other half fantasized about what I would do to that bra the moment I was alone with it.

On the left... an unfortunate woman reveals the underwire that poked through right into her cleavage!

Aren't they HIDEOUS! (Underwires, I mean... not breasts!)

I cannot tell you how many times this has happened. At $35 and more a pop I don't buy cheap bras. It's hard enough to wear a bra, but built as I am, going braless is not an option. Why can't it be a comfortable, "uplifting" experience in every sense of the word? This is 2007 for gosh sakes... technology being what it is, why can't the lingerie industry come up with a decent bra?

Bra manufacturers:

Don't tell me that straps are not supposed to support breasts, or that they are there to simply keep the bra in place. The grooves in my shoulders tell me otherwise!

Don't tell me I don't know how to select a bra that properly fits. I've had consultations with women trained in this, followed every guideline and I STILL have issues!

Don't tell me that the underwires have protective tips, to prevent stab wounds. I've pried more than one protective tip out of my irritated flesh.

Don't tell me that I'm not shaped like a normal woman. With my clothes off I look like a classic artist's rendition of the female form.

We cannot blame men for our bra related miseries. We love pretty lingerie, we love the satin and lace and beautiful details. We love how silky smooth if feels against our skin. We love how our clothes fit when we're dressed beautifully underneath. We love to feel womanly and alluring, and pretty lingerie contributes to that. Men would be just as happy if we all went braless I suspect?

I remember the bra burning craze of the 60's and early 70's. "We've come a long way, Baby"... but why are our bras still torturing us?

If anyone wants to read a good horror story, read The History of the Bra.
You will wonder how women ever withstood the pulleys that were used to tighten a corset, or how they endured the deformed ribs and inner organs from wearing those contraptions!

I must admit I own a few of these.

....::::SIGH::::..... it's hopeless

Hosing down "Wild Fire"....

"There is no great genius without some touch of madness."

Seneca (Roman philosopher and statesman)

This week, braving the snow storm, our book club got together to discuss this month's selection... "Wild Fire" by Nelson DeMille. Most enjoyed it, although it wasn't as much of a thriller or cliff hanger as some of his other works. It was more of a mental torture chamber. I disliked it... really, really disliked it. Ok, I hated it. And I read it cover to cover.

"Wild Fire" describes what could happen if a handful of wealthy, powerful Americans managed to get their hands on a few Russian suitcase nuclear weapons of mass destruction and brainstormed a plot to use them.

It's based on several key facts:

* Nuclear bombs are missing and unaccounted for. No one knows where they are.

* Certain secret government plans already exist, should a nuclear attack occur on American soil or anywhere in the world.

* Certain anti-terrorist extremist organizations already exist, which are ready, willing and able to take matters into their own hands. They are not going to trust our own government to act in our best interests. They are cunning and wealthy beyond our wildest imaginations. They are well connected with foreign nuclear scientists (paid handsomely under the table) and high-powered Washington officials who have access to top secret information. They are angry, they are insane and they are not unlike Osama Bin Laden in their objectives, but instead of Islam, their religion is power.

Nelson DeMille says in his introduction: "Indeed, this is a scary book for scary times; but it's also a cautionary tale for a post 9/11 world."

What troubles me about this book is that it exists. I could see a twisted mind somewhere latching onto DeMille's brilliantly detailed plan, tweaking it, funding it and destroying all of us. There are those who have speculated that two Tom Clancy novels "Executive Orders" and "Debt of Honor" might have inspired some of the terrorist plans that were executed on 9/11.

So perhaps my fears are justified.

And so what terrifies me most about "Wild Fire" is the potential it holds for inspiring a "copy cat" crime of horrific proportions. Nelson DeMille became a top-selling author for his ability to thrill his readers. Is it reckless and irresponsible to mastermind these horribly evil, incredibly researched, massively destructive story lines and put them out there for all the world to see?

I don't know. But maybe I'm completely wrong... consider THIS view.

"Knowledge is power. Information is power. The secreting or hoarding of knowledge or information may be an act of tyranny camouflaged as humility." Robin Morgan

It makes sense. I guess that if the right people in "Homeland Security" are reading novels like DeMille's, it could assist them in matters of prevention and defense.

As for me, no more novels like this for me... never again.

Moon dreams....

"I like to think that the moon is there even if I am not looking at it." Albert Einstein

Lots of people make a list of things they want to do before they die. I keep such a list. It changes from time to time, but bit by bit things are getting scratched off as I find ways to make my dreams come true.
Maybe it's a mid-life crisis that is to blame for the ambition I've had the past few years. But one dream persists and here it is:

I want to moon Amtrak.

I want to stand waiting by the railroad tracks until I see the train approaching. Then I want to drop my pants and bend over as the Amtrak train passes by.

And I'm not alone. Each year HUNDREDS of people come from far and "wide" (excuse the pun) to flash their butts to a passing Amtrak train.

As described on EccentricAmerica.com:

"This has to rank among the wackiest event to ever have originated in a bar. Moon Amtrak draws hundreds people to a chain link fence between the Mugs Away Saloon and the railroad tracks on the second Saturday in July. Otherwise respectable people then do something they normally wouldn't dream of doing - they drop their drawers and "moon" the two-dozen passenger trains that pass by that day. When it gets dark they moon by flashlight and by lanterns hung on the fence, hundreds of bare buns glowing in the flickering light. The mooning, which has been going on since a bar challenge started it all 25 years ago, draws crowds to both sides of the fence. The trains are booked solid months in advance for moon day. No one actually sponsors or organizes this event; it just has a life of its own."

When I first found out about the national "Moon Amtrak Day" I was living alone, separated from my husband, looking for fun things to do in reclaiming my life. What better way to demonstrate my newfound freedom? It was something he'd NEVER do, never be part of. He wouldn't judge those who do it or criticize the event. It's simply not his style. He's a very reserved, proper, modest, wholesome kind of guy. And I can be those things too. But come on... doesn't it sound FUN?

I decided I'd do the "Moonlight Moon"... it's hot in July in California. And last thing I needed on my pale, delicate derriere... which has NEVER known the sun to cast a single beam upon it... is the acres of sunburn I'd be sure to get.

Yes, my buns would be toasted. And because I've never mooned anyone or anything in public before, I'm a little bit shy about it. I'd feel less exposed under the cloak of darkness. I'd feel a bit more anonymous, with just a flashlight aimed at my butt.... my grinning face and eyes full of wicked mischief would be hidden in the safety of night.

And I'd wear a thong, a little one, something pretty, maybe something fun. My cheeks would be free and that's what counts, right?

I had finally found a friend to take the road trip with me, but she lives in another state and we couldn't seem to make it happen. It's still possible... but even if it doesn't happen with her, it's something I'm determined to do before I die.

Hearts that melt...

Happy Valentine's Day!



Browsing photographs, I found these... especially appropriate for today. In the Chicago area we have quite a bit of snow on the ground...

This snow ... it's beautiful, it's tranquil, it's a canvas for many who use it to convey their messages of love...
Enjoy these...

I know there will be men who trudge to the jewelry store, confectionary, card shop or florist to find something special for their beloved. Those gestures are sweet of course... but something unexpected is sure to melt her heart. (It would mine!)

Out of pocket investment? Zero.

Romantic value? Priceless.

Chicago has SUPER BOWL FEVER!

Today's the SUPERBOWL!

And our BEARS are playing!

I don't understand much about football, but I love the excitement of it. And Chicago is going CRAZY with delerious joy and button-popping pride over it.

On a big scale or on a small scale, we're all plugging for DA BEARS! Check out just a few of the ways Chicago is showing its spirit!

Bear down, Chicago Bears! Good luck today! We love you!

(And to my dear friend, Leslie, who sent me an email saying "Go Colts!"... pfft, we'll see!)

Hangin' with George Costanza...

My daughter, Monica, is working in London where she managed to get a great job at a fancy bank as a "risk modeler". She's a mathematician. She was a student so long, going to grad school, that she watched many friends go off to find great careers while she was still hitting the books living the life of a poor student. Now it's finally her turn. She goes to work each day in a business suit and nice pointy shoes and deals with other people in suits as they all handle enormous amounts of money. I can't picture it, she's a hiker, a biker, a creative cook, a fabulous photographer, an outdoorsy camper kind of girl.

Then I think of myself. At home I wear jeans and a hoodie with a tank top underneath. The minute I'm in the door off come the work clothes and heels. In a rumpled heap on the floor is my professionalism. There have been times I've taken off my panty hose in the car waiting for a train to pass. I'm not into hair and make up. It's not unusual for me to leave the house with my hair still wet. A drip dry lifestyle suits me fine. So I know where my daughter gets it.

I came across a picture taken in November, when Monica and I went into the city to get her tattoo done. (Her tattoo was my design!) We had a GREAT day! We were clowning around at the tattoo parlor and Monica snapped this picture of me in the waiting area and later added the infamous beefcake photo of George Constanza from Seinfeld.

I laugh every time I see it! It captures me (and my personality) more than most pictures do. It's true... Girls just wanna have fun!

So every day, Monica dresses in her suit and hides her tattoos and true-est self and merges into the world of business and finance. And I put on my skirts, boots and fancy clothes, keeping the playful me safely tucked away when I meet with clients who expect me to decorate their homes in "good taste". I wonder if people sense anything when they meet us, something there that they can't quite pinpoint, telling them there's more to us than meets the eye.
Sometimes I'll look at a person and sense that "something" about them too. I'm drawn to such people, intrigued by the complex, fascinating combination of qualities they possess. They are people who are full of life, interested in almost everything, excited to learn new things... and they exude a certain confidence and happiness. They know who they are, and they also know how to get what they want in life.

For some people, the job IS the person. Work is their life. For others, the job is the means of paying the bills, making it possible to live a great life apart from the job. As much as I love my job, I love not working even more.

It took me awhile to figure that out! I suspect my daughter's learning it now..

My encounter with a palmist...

In June of 2000 I accompanied my daughters on a trip to New Orleans. On Royal Street, a few blocks from Bourbon Street, Stephanie and I stumbled upon an enchanting courtyard. Tucked in the back was a sign on a door that read "Palmist". Neither of us were into the occult or ever had a palm reading. You could say we were skeptics. But New Orleans had put us in another more adventurous frame of mind. We decided to inquire.

We met

Colo Milling, a respectable, scholarly-looking middle-aged man who seemed more like a college professor than a palm reader. I'm not sure what we were expecting, but there was nothing kooky about him, and when he spoke he was very articulate and sincere. He explained that what he did was a science, he was not a fortune teller and not involved in the occult. New Orleans is home to all kinds of fortune tellers, tarot readers and voodoo practitioners, but he made it clear he was not part of that.

Mr. Milling explained that the lines on our hands are electrical diagrams of the two hemispheres of the brain. The shapes and lines are the living picture of the forces that make each of us who we are. It's an ancient science, but also an art.

It made sense, so we decided to have him analyze our palms. Steff went first. She seemed a little wide eyed when she emerged, but she was smiling. It was my turn.

The next hour was extraordinary. The room was comfortable, well lit, with beautiful art work on the walls and a library of books. I wish that I had recorded our session when he offered. It was remarkable to hear a complete stranger describe in such detail the most complex aspects of my personality, and he did so with amazing accuracy. It was as if he could see deep inside my head, my life experiences, my heart and my spirit. When I left, I too, was wide-eyed. I looked at Stephanie, our eyes meeting in a silent "wow" of mutual awe. We discussed a little bit of what he had said, but mostly we were quiet for a long time... lost in thought. I wanted to be alone to digest it all, to write it all down. And I did, that night...

Here is a brief summary of what Colo Milling told me:

"You are inventive, it's one of your most prominent qualities and it's unusual to be so strong in a woman."

"You are an "old soul", re-incarnated many, many times and spiritually evolved."

"In prior lives you worked through most worldly issues, like fame, money and sex, with a positive outcome. Now what remains is the inner work. Your outer work is done."

"You are humorous, you have good timing."

"In relationships you grow to love slowly, and you test your partner for patience and stability, but you do commit and stay committed."

"Men enjoy how you love them."

"You get angry twice. First your anger flares, then you get over it. But then you start to think about it some more and get angry again. That's when you can let it go. You'll discuss your anger several times, even after it passes, to make a point."

"You've already taught your children the most important things you were sent to teach them."

"You need to become more selfish, meaning you need to be more true to yourself. Think of yourself as an actor in a play. 50% of your performance is your own role, but the other 50% is responding to the other roles. You've not spent enough time developing your own role. You've responded too much to others."

"You are a soft person, you cannot bear the hard, sharp edges of life."

"You have a tendency to worry, especially at the beginning, but it does not hinder your success."

"You have an active nervous system, producing high electricity, even at rest. It never shuts down, you're always analyzing, thinking and processing."

"Think back to when you were 9-14 years old. What did you discover about yourself at that age? Return to that focus now. Your life has become too worldly and it's taken you away from your focus. Be more selfish, do more inner work. Remember, the outer is done."

"You are capable of producing a successful invention."

"You are not a good subject for hypnosis."

"You could attain fame, but you don't seek it. You are still highly respected and admired."

Interesting, isn't it. Ages 9-14 were pivotal for me, really defining years. He hit the nail on the head when it comes to how I deal with anger. I've been working on a book of designs that I plan to eventually publish, is that the successful invention he spoke of? Although things like reincarnation are not significant to me in the way my faith works, I find such concepts useful. Stephanie's consultation was entirely different but equally impressive.

Given our experience I would certainly give Colo Milling's hand analysis a strong recommendation. I would honestly say that his words did come into play when I had some decisions to make in my life in the years that followed. It was invaluable insight he provided. And it resulted in strong decisions on my part, with good outcomes.

A quote from his web site....

"God seals up in the hand of every man so that all may know his work" Job 37:7

And, should anyone be interested... Colo Milling does "long distance" readings if you're able to get a good xerox of your palms, right and left.