She said: "Honey, I've done it all. I've been there and I have done all of that. I like being busy. What more can I tell you? I like what I do, so I do it a lot and as a result I have a GaZillion Friends. Just ask anyone. I know what's going on everywhere it seems. I don't just DO Social Media, honey, I AM Social Media. That's the thing that I do best. I have a job! This is my job. If someone posts something, I feel like, well, I have to respond. Doesn't matter if I don't know that person. So what? They don't know me either. And because I respond to all of them, some, and even maybe most, respond to me. And Liked? You want to know about Liked. Honey, I am for sure Liked. Maybe even loved a little. That, Dammit, that's where the rubber meets the road. Honey! My people love me. Because I am THERE for them."

Stumble It!

She said: "It's like waking up in your bed, but your bed has been turned around to face another wall and you know it wasn't like that last night. It's like if you looked up from the bed that is facing the wrong wall and everything you see is in black and white. From your window you can hear the birds tweeting and you know you've heard that noise before you can't say what it is, only that it isn't nice to hear. Imagine if you got up from your bed one morning and everything was different in subtle ways. The clock by your bed has some strange, wrong time on it. You can't quite dredge up the word that is used for a Bath Robe. You slowly make your way to the kitchen where everything looks O.K. but when you look as it a second time, nothing has a name and you can't remember where the cold box is. You are puzzled and you feel tired and wish only to go back to bed for a bit. Later, when you come downstairs for the second time you can smell it. You can't yet see it, but you can smell it. You know what it is. You can smell the fire in the kitchen, but you don't know how it started."

Stumble It!

She said: "It was after I lost the cat that things changed. Sounds silly, doesn't it? I loved my cat and she just got real sick. I thought it was because of the heat, but she got some virus in her and by the time I finally got her to the vet's , it was too late. She was in real pain. I held her in my lap as they "put her down". It only took a moment, really. Well, of course I cried, but not as much as I thought I might. I felt free in some way. I loved that cat. She wasn't really that old, you know. But, after she passed, I didn't have anything to hold me back. I didn't have to arrange things when I was out of town. I could not just go whenever I wanted. And I did. I had always wanted to see France. So, I went to France. Then Jamaica. Then Australia. Then Berlin. That's where I met Frank. We just hit it off at once. He is a cat lover too, but doesn't have one now. His tabby passed a few weeks before my own cat. Isn't that funny? Two old cat lovers meet in some far away place and all we could talk about was our cats. Well, there you go. Life is funny that way. It's hard to say exactly how it will all work out in the end."

Stumble It!

She said: "If you had a second chance, would you take it? Could you take it? Do you think that anything would have changed in your life if you had another chance to live your life? Do you think that life is what you make of it, or do you think that it is something that just happens to you while you are cleaning the house? What do you think would change for you if you had a second chance? What do you think you would loose? Would you take your children with you on a second chance? Would you take a mate? How much different would your life be if you could start over and make it all new? Would you have any regrets? Do you think that you would be brave enough? Would it make any difference if you could not look back? Maybe a second chance could just be the elimination of regrets. Maybe it could be that simple. Maybe if it were that easy we'd all jump on the chance to dream a different dream and not look back."

Stumble It!

She said: "Sometime, when I close my eyes at the end of the day, I can still see him. I never knew what happened. No one would every tell me what had happened. I'm not certain, really, that anyone, other than the "authorities" knew. Oh, there were people who claimed to know, but I didn't really listen to those people. They were members of the radical fringe and they would say anything if they thought it would help "The Cause". After he was gone, I just didn't care for the "Cause" anymore. It was him I wanted and needed. It was the sight and the small and the warmth of him that I wanted. I wanted to hear him speak to me and I wanted to look again into his eyes. I wanted him to be with me. I wanted to see him come around the corner, smiling and maybe humming a tune. I wanted to reach our for his hand and let him take me up stairs. But I know now that won't happen. I went to the memorial service. Our friends were kind to me. I just wanted to see him that one more time, but there wasn't enough to see. Or that's what they told me. I just wanted to see him and to feel my hand in his hand. I just wanted him to take me home.

Stumble It!

He said: "I waited a long time. Everyone encouraged me to be patient and to wait. They told me that was how it was. Everybody waits. That's what they say. So, I waited. What else could I do? I waited. But, finally, this year I got tired of waiting. I'm not getting any younger and any one can tell you that, in fact, I'm getting old. Really old. And I don't have a lot of time to wait anymore. I want to be heard now! So I took my story to the church and I told my story and my complaint to God. I expected something to happen after that. But nothing happened. Everything was just like it was before. So I went to a different church and I told God about the pain I have had and the torment that my mother, bless her, went through when she was ill and how she hung on through all of the awful things they put her through in the hospital and how I didn't think that was fair of God: to make her suffer like that. And nothing happened. It was like God stopped listening to me. And that's when I realized that he wasn't there for me and he wasn't there for my mother and that he would not hear my prayer. So I decided not to talk to God anymore. I told him not to bother me. I told him that I would not pray anymore. And I told him I would see him in Hell. And, now, I feel better. Strange, isn't it?"

Stumble It!

He said: "It's taking them a long time to fix it. I don't know what the hold up is. I mean, I hired these people because they know this stuff. They make their living doing this stuff. I'm paying them because I don't want to get down there and get mucked up. That's their job. But they sure are taking their time. They don't seem to be in any kind of a hurry. Meanwhile, I have to tip toe around and I have to change everything until they make up their mind about when they're going to come back and finish the job. I can't do much until that happens. They said something about tree roots being the problem. They said we'd have to wait a week or so. Well, it's been longer that than and I still have to watch what I do. Can't take a bath. Too much water. Can't shower: same deal: too much water in the system. When there is too much water the horror begins. The
water backs up and then the toilets end up flushing up, not down. You only want that to happen one time on you. I'll make you a bible loving man. It will bring you around, let me tell you. I just don't understand what is taking them so feeking long."

Stumble It!