Painting, Pool, Living Together and Singing


Last night I met with a wonderful artist and picked up a painting of my parents. They don’t know it yet, but this heirloom painting is being given to them from the family. The two of them have been cured of incurable cancers, and we are just so beyond blessed and happy we wanted to celebrate with something meaningful.

I am driving down to the family compound agai this weekend to present the painting to Mom and dad and to pick up my nephew and bring him back after Spring Break. With any luck I will also be able to get some time fishing with my Dad, as last weekend it was raining and we did not get to go.

The painting is wonderful and I cannot wait to see their faces when they see it. I have the best family in the world.



After picking up the painting, I met with some friends to play a few games of pool.  Growing up we had a pool table. We had a whole game room actually. My parents did not want to have to worry about where their two daughters were when dating. So they gave us a game room, or gave it to our dates rather. It worked. Everyone came over to our house and we were rarely taken out on dates…and my parents always knew where their daughters were. Brilliant plan.

Some of my best memories of growing up are in that gameroom. When my sister was in college, she would come over with her friends and play pool. Instead of thinking I was the bratty annoying little sister (which I was), they instead included me and taught me how to shoot pool. Hours and hours were spent shooting, and I became quite the shark.  Unfortunately pool is one of those things you loose if you don’t use, at least for me, and now I am pretty bad. Playing pool is still one of my favorite things to do however, even of I do not do it often, even if I am bad at it now.

And I love my sister and her friends for teaching me how to play.


Living Together

I lived with a man once, for three years. And as I reflect on my life during Lent, I think about that time in my life as well. There were times in that relationship that I was about to burst of Joy. And I realize why: Because I love serving. The thing that made me that happiest in that relationship, was doing things for him. I mean really sappy, domestic things. I worked full time (as a mortgage loan officer and doing modeling), but could not wait to get home.

I loved cooking and cleaning for him because I wanted to make sure the house was wonderful for him when he came home. Loved doing his laundry, even matching up and folding his socks. I loved making where we lived a home, with a warm welcome feeling when you walked in. I loved grocery shopping for him and making sure his favorite foods were always were always available. I loved shopping for him and surprising him with little things I knew he would love. Taking care of the house and making sure it was everything he wanted became a very sensual thing for me, as it was an expression of my womanhood, my femininity. I was a woman taking care of her man, showing him by actions, how much I loved him. And I loved it. I was completely devoted to him and the relationship.

Yes, other things were nice, having another person around, watching TV together, always having someone to do things with…of all the things sharing a home involve, the giving of myself is that which I miss the most. It is in my nature to take care of another. But when it comes to a relationship I just don’t want to take care of someone, I want to take care of the right, special someone. Someone who will balance and take care of me too. Someone who will be good to me and treat me right.



I make fun of myself often and say I cannot sing except in my car. This is not entirely true. I have had years of voice training and am an almost 20 year veteran of stage. So, even though I tease, I actually sing quite well. But I sing for myself. I don’t often sing for others, as to me it is such a personal thing to share. Since I live alone, I sing all the time around the house, and in the shower, and in the car, and to my cats and …

This morning, I had the radio turned up almost all the way (bad habit left over from radio, I have no idea how I have any hearing left), and I was singing at the top of my lungs. And dancing. With abandon. I didn’t even need my hairbrush microphone, because my voice carried well. Adele, Heart, Adam Lambert, Kenny Chesney, Bon Jovi, it did not matter. Today I was singing. And dancing. Because finally, after a little over 6 months, my throat and voice have healed enough from the attack that I can sing. Loudly.

I love to sing. And I will never take that for advantage again.


5 thoughts on “Painting, Pool, Living Together and Singing

  1. my friend I believed whoever came again into your life he will be the luckiest guy to meet you, because you’re such a wonderful person with a good heart, and I am glad you is well now, happy to hear you singing if I have the chance … 😉 God Bless!


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