Live With Hope

As a Psychology major, I did an internship at the Atascadero State Hospital for the Criminally Insane my junior year in college.  What I learned there prompted me to change my major with only three quarters to graduate.

The men I met were rapists and child molestors, violent beyond what I believed possible.  They were absolutely delusional and felt compeled to act according to the voices they heard.  The depth of their disabilities was shocking, especially for a 20-year-old girl.

My point is, some people simply canot navigate this world.  They need to be confined and treated.  I think the Sandy Hook disaster is more about mental health than gun control.

I mention this because I live with the hope that we will (as a society) invest in proper care facilities for the mentally ill.  Possibly 2013 will be the year that allows us to address this issue for the safety and protection of all.

Smart-Ass Possibilities

In 2013 a true smart-ass will  join the collective consciences dedicated to unseating all incumbents in Congress and the Senate.

In the "Year of the Smart-Ass" a mentor will emerge in the form of  Seahawks Coach Pete Caroll who said to 49er Head Coach, Jim Harbough: "Hey. what's your deal man?"  I love it!  A rude boy revealed on National TV.  Pete is becoming one of my heros.

Recognize (in 2013) that if you're driving a car you can't afford, everyone knows it. You're not impressing anyone. You gain admiration when you spend money on your children for education and opportunities, no more pretending to be rich when you're not.  A smart-ass knows who you are.

I'm Sorry Means Shut-Up.

In the year of the Smart-Ass we can all stop saying "I'm Sorry" as an automatic reaction to placate people.  When I was a child I developed the habit of saying "I'm sorry" whenever my Mother decided to badger me.  I wasn't sorry, I just wanted her to shut-up.  When I apologized, (even if I wasn't guilty of her accusations,) there wasn't much left she could say.

In 2013 perhaps apologies will be sincere.

Year of the Smart-Ass

We all survived my "End of the Mayan Calendar" lunch and decided during the feasting that the new beginning will feature smarter people.

I predict that 2013 will be "The Year of the Smart-Ass."  Say what you mean and mean what you say. Call the behavior.  Recognize the truth.  Own your garbage and your greatness.  Be who you are, no more pretending.

2013 will end political correctness and mark the resurgence of meaningful language, (nice is nice, but the truth is better.)

Have a wonderful Christmas.  More predictions to follow.

Year of the Smart-Ass

Divinity and Potato Salad

I made divinity and potato salad last night for my Armageddon lunch on 12-21-12.  What better way to celebrate the end of the Mayan calendar than with sugar and mayonaise?

The recipes were handed down from my Great-Grandmother  Callery   who brought them from Ireland.  The endeavor prompted a memory of a conversation I had with Father Kevin Moran, Pastor of St. Theresa's Catholic Church, several years ago.

He asked me what part of Ireland my family was from?  I replied:  "I believe the Maddens are from Limrick, the Flahertys and Callerys are from Cork."

"Oh no," said the Priest from Derry.  "The Callerys are from Derry.  It's a bad clan," he shook his head in disdain.  "A very bad clan."

He was still shaking his head as he walked away.

I always wondered if he meant bad as in evil or bad as in bad-ass warriors?  I'll contemplate this while eating Irish divinity and potato salad.

Myan Dust

Responses for my Armageddon lunch indicate that it will be well attended.  Does this mean I have to dust?  In my experience, a Madden isn't the duster.  We are the dustee.

The point is, I'm not noted for my housekepping skills.  My friends know this and still love me.  We don't judge, we just laugh a lot.  Like the time I called 1-800-JUNK to clean out my daughters' playroom and toys stored in the garage.

They filled two trailers and charged me $1,000.  It was like an episode of "Hoarders", cats and all (although I want to point out that my cats are well cared for.)

So, my friends will be here on Friday for the celebration of 12-21-12.  My friend, Teresa, has volunteered to tap dance.  What a thrill!  We might have to put that on U-Tube.  There will be food and frolicking, perhaps even chanting.

I wonder if I should vacuum?

Paradime Shift

We can call it the end of the Myan calendar; Armageddon; the Apocalypse; the second coming of Christ; the end of the world; or even "The Awakening."  Most belief systems agree that there will be a end day even if it is due to gobal warming or a black hole; astroid bombardment; volcanic eruption; nuclear disaster; etc.

My belief is that the end of the world will be a paradime shift.  A part of our collective consciousness will  be prompted to know the truth of all things past, present, and future. The end of the world isn't a battle between good and evil.  Rather, it will be a curious exchange of energy in which people will  realize their power to arrange their energy for the good of all.  These enlightened beings will enhance the quality of life for all those with good intentions.  Negative energy will dissipate.

12-21-12 Celebration Lunch

The end of  the Mayan calendar, 12-21-12, will be celebrated with a ladies' lunch at the Magruder residence.  (See menu on previous blog.)

There will be a musical  program including appropriate Apoclaypse  songs.  All those in attendance will be required to sing.  If guests don't know the lyrics, they can stand next to my friend, Lois Miller.  She knows all the words to all of the songs.  It's a gift.

We will honor the day with:
"Stayin Alive" by the BeeGees
"I Feel the Earth Move" by Carole King
"Break On Through (To The Other Side)" by The Doors
"(I've Had) The Time of My Life" by Bill Medley
"Dream A Dream" by Mama Cass"
"Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater
"Season of the Witch" by Donovan
"The Sound of Silence" by Simon & Garfunkel
"Maybe I'm Amazed" by Paul McCartney
"Thriller" by Michael Jackson

All afore mentioned musicians who have passed will join us in spirit.  OK, maybe that's stretching it, but I think anything is possible on the last day.

More Apocalypse lunch details to follow.

Armageddon Lunch Menu

I'm planning on hosting an Armageddon lunch on 12-21-12 for my friends.  It's by invitation only, so if you would like to atend, post your email in the comments.  Ladies only.

I was considering the menu as if it would be something I would enjoy on my last day.  Here it is:

Baskin & Robbins ice cream cake in a rainbow shape with various colors.
Madelines
Devil's Food cake (highly appropriate for the occasion) with real whipped cream.
Cucumber sandwiches (no crust) with cream cheese and garlic.
Potato salad with lots of mayonaise and onion, no pickle.  You know, Irish style.
Gingerale punch with lime sherbert.
Lots of really good coffee and pots of perfectly brewed tea.

There will be a program too lengthly to mention here.  Tune in tomorrow for more details.

Don't Mess With Letterman

I was watching letterman Wednesday night when the CBS local TV affiliate in Seattle, KIRO 7  interrupted exactly at midnight with breaking news:  Marijuana and same-sex marriage are now legal in Washington.
 
Cut to:  people in line at the courthouse waiting to get marriage licenses.  Then, more news:  film of people smoking dope.

For this they interrupted the Letterman show?

I voted for same-sex marriage and the legalization of marijuana back on November 3rd.  I knew it passed.  It's not breaking news.  It can wait.

So, December 6 was the first day for the new laws and, certainly, celebration was warranted.  But,  to disturb the David Letterman for that?  Really?  I switched channels and found that Leno was on NBC as well as Jimmy Kimmel on ABC.  Only KIRO made this a pressing story for midnight.  I remember when "Breaking News" indicated some kind of monumental disaster.  The term has now lost it's meaning.

In truth, I'm happy for all those whose lives have been enhanced by voters' support.  I believe in freedom and equality.  We should all be able to pursue our personal truth and be valued for who we really are.  Just don't mess with Letterman!

Catch a Glimpse of the Roadrunner

Sometimes, when people see me, they run in the opposite direction.  I can hear their thoughts saying:  "Oh no, it's that chatty Magruder woman!"

I was shopping at Fred Meyer the other day when I ran into my Veterinarian.  He has cared for my cats for 25 years.  He spotted me and immediately averted his eyes, took a sharp right turn and sprinted down the cereal isle.

This happens to me all the time. I've lived in Federal Way for 34 years.  I worked as a columnist for a local newspaper, raised two daughters here, and engaged in many volunteer activities.  I don't know everyone, but I do know a lot of people.  If I stop to talk to everyone, I can be in a store for two hours or more.

There have been times when I have caught a glimpse of a friend exiting like the Roadrunner when they see me.  I don't take it personally (one of "The Four Agreements", a great book.)  I know that sometimes people are too busy to chat.

Recently, I have devised a solution for this greeting dilemma which aparently, following extensive research involving friends also with long time Federal Way residency is a universal problem.

We should all carry cards.  When we encounter an acquaintance, we offer the card and say:  "Here's my number, so call me, maybe."

Puppies, Kittens, and Babies

This time of year, when it's dark by 4:30 in the afternoon, I feel homesick.  Being from California, I have never acclimated to the harshness of the cold and rain in the Pacific Northwest.  When I see facebook pictures from my friends and family in The Golden State, I just want to go home.

I like flowers and puppies, and kittens and babies and gentle willow trees swaying with the wind and brightly colored birds at the feeder.

I like warm days when the sun shines gently on me and comforts my soul and I can let my energy go without limits.

Last year, when I went to California for my Mother's funeral, my daughters and I had lunch outside in Redwood City at a sidewalk cafe.  It was 67 degrees in January.