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Monthly Archives: March 2012

Future Force

I have written extensively on the subject of my mother. She was such a force to be reckoned with. She had the power to change the future and she did. I had a conversation with my sister about the age that my parents were when they got married. My father was 32 and my mother was 25. We giggled about how old my father was to be starting a family. Even my mother, in her Cuban culture, she was kind of old to just be starting out. Then I realized that it took my mother that long to manipulate my father into marrying her. I assure you that she covered all the territory necessary to make it possible. She more than likely infiltrated his family. That was a classic for her. Know thy enemy, and then charm his family was her motto. Not that I like to criticize my mother, but I am fascinated by her ability to make whatever she desires to happen, actually happen.  She could push like an earth mover to get it done.

The conversation went on about how she used her power. Couldn’t she have used the same exact power to do well, or have wealth, or in her case, have health? It was absolutely amazing how she was able to manipulate anyone into what she wanted them to do. She was so good that you would think it was your idea to do it. Certainly she could have used this for good.

Of course no deep conversation with Lola ever goes without an epiphany. You see, if my mother had not mentally abused, stalked and forced my father, Lola and I would not even be having this conversation. There is good in everything. So push it. Push it real good.

 
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Posted by on March 20, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Idiot Lights

The idiot light, as they call them, are the lights on your dash that warn you about things like you are running out of gas, or your oil pressure is falling, or the engine needs to be checked. They are probably the best invention for your car. Especially if you are like me and wouldn’t look at gauges, check oil or listen for noises. I recalled a car that I had borrowed from my parents once. I thought I heard some noises under the hood and felt the car’s motor was working too hard just to go 40 mph. I have a friend that is a mechanic and so I slipped into his garage to have him check it out. This poor guy looked and listened as he agreed that something was wrong. Turns out that the check engine light was on, the oil light was on and the overheated light was on. We just couldn’t see them because my Stepfather had covered them with small pieces of black electrical tape. I couldn’t tell since it blended with the darkness of the unlit board.

While having a conversation with my sister about a complete idiot that she was hanging out with at a time in her life when she was new in town and was looking to make some friends. His name was Alberto and he was a amputee. He had one leg, but he wore a prosthetic leg. That wasn’t the problem though. As the daughter of a man who wore a prosthetic leg, that just didn’t bother me about him. Alberto, or Berto as he preferred to called was a total wreck. He lived with his sister and her 10 kids. He didn’t really have a home he was just mooching off of her. He had little respect for anyone’s home. He would walk around with a cup of coffee spilling it along a trail as he would swing his prosthetic leg around to walk. I would come home with my girlfriend knowing that we could share a steak that was in the fridge, only to find that Berto had come over and eaten it. I told him under no uncertain terms that he was not to spend the night, only to find him there in the middle of the night. Berto didn’t really scare me until my sister had moved out into her own apartment. One night when she had a bed companion, she was awaken by Berto. He had let himself in and was sucking on her big toe while she and her companion slept. She managed to get rid of Berto without her partner waking up and discovering Berto there.

My sister and I were having a great laugh about it. As she let out the last breathe of laughter she asked “why didn’t I see this guy as an idiot?” I thought about the idiot light in my parents dash. My sister saw the red flags. I saw the red flags. The difference was that my sister had turned her idiot light off so she wouldn’t have to see that she was hanging out with a complete weirdo. The only way to have peace about it was to turn the bells off that were warning her that Berto might not be an appropriate friend. I’m sure we do this all the time. It’s how we deal with going against ourselves. Like an auto immune disease, it attacks the good and useful defenses.

 
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Posted by on March 20, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Orange you glad?

Ever since I was a little girl my favorite color was orange. I had an orange bike. I only drank orange drinks like tang and crush. Reese’s peanut butter cup was my favorite candy bar, of course the orange wrapper. I always wanted my room painted orange, but my mother wouldn’t let me do it. I never really understood the reason. It was one of the few things that I expressed a liking for. I was completely outspoken when it came to this subject. As I grew older the orange was too loud and I became reserved regarding my love for orange. Loving orange as an adult was not “in style” or sophisticated. Since the seventies no one drove an orange car, or an orange bike, or an orange skateboard for that matter. I surrendered my personal taste to related, more mature colors such as clay and terracotta.

The other day an orange seventies model Corvette parked right next to me. I took in a deep breath and suddenly felt a rush of unrecognized chemicals. I felt a sense of excitement. This sense was coming over me and while I enjoyed it I couldn’t help the amazement. What was that? I kept asking myself. What did that color just do to me? I couldn’t shake the feeling that something different had just happened. I’m not crazy. The sight of that color changed the way I felt. What was it?

I searched high and low to find the answer. There has to be a logical or scientific explanation for the feeling that comes over me whenever I see that color. I found the psychology of color, color interpretation and some secondary schools of thought on the effects of color. Here is what I learned about the color orange.

There is no single English word that rhymes with orange.

The color orange stimulates activity, appetite and encourages socialization.

It is believed that lovers of orange are social creatures who get along with almost everyone.

People either hate or love the color orange. No neutral ground.

The fruit was named before the color, making the fruit the origin of the color’s name.

American Indians associate the color orange with kinship.

In China and Japan, orange is used to symbolize happiness.

Orange is representative of “gluttony” in Christianity.

There is a new work out phenomenon sweeping the nation known as “the orange theory”. The gym’s walls are painted orange and some of the equipment is orange. Most importantly the lights are orange. The color is supposed to enhance energy and make you work at your optimum level.

I knew the first time that I ever laid eyes on the color orange that there was something to it. When that Corvette pulled up next to me it reminded me of the feeling that I got as a kid. I would have written a poem about it, but nothing rhymes with it.

Orange you glad?

 
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Posted by on March 19, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Fake it till you make it

Have you ever wondered what makes us lie or cheat? Is it in the hard wiring of those who chose to make up the truth rather than suffer the consequences of what the truth really is? I have often wondered about this issue. I can remember when I was in school wanting to cheat on a test and at the same time I was so afraid of being caught and humiliated that I abandoned any plan to do so. The humiliation of getting caught was far more costly to me than failing a test.

In a study by Duke Professor Dan Ariely and Harvard professors Francesca Gino and Michael Norton reveal answers to the questions about cheating. Ariely is the author of “Predictably Irrational and The Upside to Irrationality—two of the best known books in the pop economics field.

In their “fake it till you make it” experiment they gave a group of women each a pair of Chloe sunglasses. They told half of the group that they were wearing knock offs and the other half that the sunglasses were the real deal. Of course all of the glasses were real. The women were given a series of puzzles and test to take while wearing the glasses. It was a self grading test in which the subjects were responsible for grading themselves. The women didn’t realize that the professors were observing them for honesty.

What was the result? Of the group of women that thought that they were wearing the real deal, only 30% cheated while grading their tests. Of the women that thought they were wearing fakes, 70% of them cheated.

So what does this mean? According to the study they found that because the women thought they were wearing fakes, they tended to internalize the feeling of being phony. Therefore they were more apt to cheat.

 
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Posted by on March 17, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Psychology test

How mature are you? How do  you deal with knowledge? What is your attitude towards death,love and sex? Follow the story below. Read the questions and write the answers down as you go along. Once you are finished you may post your answers in the comment box. As I moderate the comments I will give the answers to each individual response.

Have fun, that’s what it is all about after all.

Imagine that…..

You are walking through a forest,

What season is it?

As you walk through the forest you stumble across a key.

What does it look like and what do you do with it?

You walk further into the forest and stumble across a cup.

What does it look like and what do you do with it?

Still further into the forest you stumble across a structure.

What does it look like and what do you do?

Lastly, you spot a body of water.

What is it and what do you do?

 
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Posted by on March 17, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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How did I ever get here?

As I approach the ripe age of fifty I find myself questioning everything. How did things turn out this way? How could I have known that the tiniest twist in the road would have brought me to where I am now? What have I accomplished in my fifty years? What’s left now? These are the questions that query me on those late nights that I can’t sleep or on the days that I just can’t put anything together.
What I find more times than not is that the questions themselves are the blank canvas of things that could be.
Just because things didn’t turn out the way that I may have once upon a time dreamed of doesn’t mean that they never will. The more I look back the more I see the distractions and obstacles that slowed down the stream of energy that I was committing to the visions I was having about a superior life. By a superior life I mean a life in which there are no regrets. A life which feels fulfilled and yet continues to find new resources for enrichment. This is where I want to be. The new vision. The new dream.
As long as I stay focused, I am unstoppable. As are the dreams that I have.

 
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Posted by on March 8, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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