If you can't say something nice, at least make it funny!

Thanks for visiting Tinfoil Magnolia, a blog about my life, times, marriage, friendships and all the strange things that happen to me and with me. I hope you find something here that will encourage you, inspire you or at the least entertain you. And if it doesn't today, check back tomorrow because, my life? honestly...

Friday, April 30

Oh, wait? There's an option for that?

Oprah, I love ya'. Really I do. I've hung with ya' since 1987, when Mom and I used to make s'mores every day and watch your show and lament the fact that we just moved to a new town and didn't have any friends. I've hung with ya' through hairstyles and weight loss and weight gain and marathons and more weight loss and weight gain again. I have read your books, eaten your diets, cried at your heroes, laughed at your friend Gale. But here is where I draw the line, Ms. Oprah Winfrey.
Now hear this: I am not signing the No Phone Zone pledge. I do not text when I am driving, except maybe at a stoplight or something, and while I agree about how dangerous that is I just don't think talking on my phone on a headset is any huge distraction. Certainly it isn't more dangerous than driving with 2 screaming kids in the back and a vcr blasting in your ear while trying to dig a pacifier and toys from the diaper bag propped precariously behind the passenger seat. The day they outlaw that, I'm with ya'. Until then, as far as my car being a No Phone Zone? They can have my cell phone when they pry it from my cold, dead hand.

It's Poetry Month, Ya'll!

It is the very last day of National Poetry Month, so in honor of that I am posting poems. Plus, I have a busy day and don't have time to write. Enjoy!
Letting Go
by Marsha Herndon

Seems like I’m caught in perpetual motion

Running, hurrying, scurrying

world rushes by

in fast forward as I

Move languidly as if trapped on the ocean

resisting, floating, waiting,

bumping the shore

in a quest for more.

Still, quiet preponderance says

listening, thinking, surrendering to what life has abundant

leave it alone

and you’ll be home.

And, in contrast, a poem by someone who's really, ya' know, a poet.

Stripping and Putting On

by May Swenson

I never wanted a patch of this earth to stand in,

that would stick to me.

I wanted to move by whatever throb my muscles

sent to me.

I never cared for cars, that crawled on land or

air or sea.

If I rode, I'd rather another animal: horse, camel,

or shrewd donkey.

Never needed a nest, unless for the night, or when

winter overtook me.

Never wanted an extra skin between mine and the sun,

for vanity or modesty.

Would rather not have parents, had no yen for a child,

and never felt brotherly.

But I'd borrow or lend love of friend. Let friend be

not stronger or weaker than me.

Never hankered for Heaven, or shield from a Hell,

or played with the puppets Devil and Deity.

I never felt proud as one of the crowd under

the flag of a country.

Or felt that my genes were worth more or less than beans,

by accident of ancestry.

Never wished to buy or sell. I would just as well

not touch money.

Never wanted to own a thing that wasn't I born with.

Or to act by a fact not discovered by me.

I always felt like a bird blown through the world.

But I would like to lay

the egg of a world in a nest of calm beyond

this world's storm and decay.

I would like to own such wings as light speeds on,

far from this globule of night and day.

I would like to be able to put on, like clothes,

the bodies of all those

creatures and things hatched under the wings

of that world.

Really. powerful. stuff.

But here's one for fun.


by George Bilgere

Someone's taken a bite

from my laptop's glowing apple,

the damaged fruit of our disobedience,

of which we must constantly be reminded.

There's the fatal crescent,

the dark smile

of Eve, who never dreamed of a laptop,

who, in fact, didn't even have clothes,

or anything else for that matter,

which was probably the nicest thing

about the Garden, I'm thinking,

as I sit here in the café

with my expensive computer,

afraid to get up even for a minute

in order to go to the bathroom

because someone might steal it

in this fallen world she invented

with a single bite

of an apple nobody, and I mean


was going to tell her not to eat.

Thursday, April 29

Hey, Brownie, will you shave my armpits for me?

Today I had the most screamingly hilarious lunch, sans alcohol, that I've had in a long while. These women who have allowed me into their friendship with open arms are some of the funniest I ever have know. As someone who is used to always being the "funny one" in any group I'm in, it is such a relief to be entertained so well, and to have people in my life (other than the hubs) who actually get my sense of humor.

I remember when we first moved to Pennsylvania, almost 4 years ago. I felt so lost and alone, so different from everyone there. I didn't know what to do or where to go to meet people. I didn't know my way around, or even what I would do if I did find something somewhere. I had a great group of friends in Nashville and I missed them all so much, even the few who I didn't see every day were an important part of my life. I spent the first six months of PA life in a consistent daily calling circle made up of my mom, my two best friends at the time, and my former boss. Bless their hearts, if they didn't hear from me by lunchtime they would pick up the phone and call to make sure I was OK. I truly do not know how I would have made it without them and their daily phone calls. Despite this lifeline I quickly fell into a serious depression.

I remember one cold Friday night in, like, May hubby and I went out to a local bar to have beer and wings. There was a table at the back of the room with about 9 women crowded around it. They were laughing, drinking, and basically having a good time and being loud. I was overcome with sadness about not having any girlfriends to spend time with, being so far away from home, and just what I was missing being so far from home. It just killed me because no matter how much you might love your husband, you gotta have your girls. Apparently I couldn't stop looking at the table full of women laughing and having fun because eventually hubs asked "Do you wanna just go over there, or are you gonna quit staring anytime soon?" And I did. I did want to go over there. So. Bad.

There were times in Pennsylvania that I thought I might never get home, home being anywhere that I had friends and people who understood me. Despite that, I said to myself every morning when I got up "I think of this as a temporary exile." I am so glad that is what it turned out to be. I accomplished many things while I was there, and for those things I am grateful. I got my Associates in Graphic Design, I got help for my depression through talk therapy with a wonderful counselor (which it ends up I should have had years ago anyway), I met some very interesting people, and I got to see NYC, Baltimore, Philadelphia and other NorthEastern cities for the very first time. But the best thing I got in Pennsylvania was getting the hell out of there.

So when I came back to live in my hometown after being away for a total of something like 20 years, I was afraid I would go through the same thing with finding friends here. However, I have a group of ladies who have accepted me with open arms because (initially I am sure) of their relationships with my best friend-from-forever and my sister-in-law. But truthfully, I think they let me stay around because they like me, and I bring something of my own to the group. Either way, I am forever grateful to have all of them in my life, and I owe them a million thanks for making me feel so welcome that it feels like I've been here forever. Amy, Brownie, Pam, Debbie, Jerilyn, Rachel and Sharon thanks for a fun lunch today, and thanks for being my new besties! I have the most fun with ya'll no matter what we do, and besides that you are the only people in the world who have stories that can make MY family look like the normal one on the block!

Wednesday, April 28

This almost never happens. No, really!

After not sleeping Monday night, I overslept today by about...I don't know, 3 hours or so...yeaaaaah. Now, before you judge me, I do have a goal to be up by 7am every day but I only set an alarm when I have somewhere I have to be. I guess that's one of the few perks of being unemployed (or "working freelance" as we artists call it). However, when I get up this late, I usually feel as if I must have missed something by being so lazy. In my defense, I really only got about 4 hours sleep the previous night, I am not just a total sloth lying in bed until 10am. But when it does happen I can usually count on either a) my phone being full of messages from my mom, husband or best friend or b) my email box racking up messages. Usually, without fail, when I have overslept there will be waiting for me at least one of either a) or b) requiring me to be somewhere within 30 minutes of the time I rolled out of bed, causing me to show up with unwashed hair and sheet marks creased all over my arms, and sometimes wearing the previous day's clothes. What is it about us that wants to deny that we've taken the luxury of sleeping in? When you answer the phone and they say, "did I wake you?" at 11 am we never, ever would say "yeah, I am sleeping, call back 'round 3". Sometimes I tell people after the fact just to see the look of pure astonishment on their faces. I just sit back and smile knowing it is coming. And when I tell them I spend the first 2-3 hours of the day writing, well that just really blows them out of the water. So here's the scenario today: 10:15 Hubs calls. Him: "...did I wake you UP?" Me: "NO, of COURSE NOT!" ... "OK, no, but in the interest of full disclosure I did sleep until 10." Him: (silence, then)... "HON-ey!" Call #2 is my mom at 11:30 Her: "What are you up to today?" Knowing better than to think she'd understand the real answer (which is writing), Me: "Oh, nothing, just laying around." Her: "LAYING AROUND!!!!!" There is such shock in her voice I say: "Yeah, why, what are you doing?" Her: "Oh, I'm just layin' around like a chicken with lice droppin' off it." ???wha-at??? This strikes me as completely hilarious for some unknown reason. I am laughing uncontrollably and say: "Mom...you are watching TOO much Dr. Phil. And so if you're laying around then, why are you busting me for laying around?" Her: "You're just usually wrapped up in something by now."" **Sigh** And on it goes. My cell phone starts ringing around 10 am and is like this all day. My life, honestly... So, the way I see it is this. I can't help it if I can't find a job in my field (graphic design). I am looking, interviewing, doing everything possible short of settling on something I completely hate, like something in my former field, accounting. So for now, in order to develop myself as a disciplined writer I can work at my new side business selling jewelry, help pay some bills, and concentrate on things that I want to do. So, don't harsh me when I sleep in a little bit. Anybody need a good graphic designer?

Tuesday, April 27

No, it wasn't Almond Delight

I didn't sleep at all last night. (and no, I wasn't thinking of breakfast cereal-anyone remember that commercial or is it just me?). The temp dipped down a bit yesterday and I have long since turned the heat OFF in this house. It was a bit cool when we went to bed and I just couldn't get warmed up at all. I didn't want to get up and go ALL the way across the house to turn on the heat, but I suddenly realized that our electric blanket was still on the bed! YES!!! (don't judge) So I reached over and clicked it on, happily warming up enough to drift off around 1am, only to wake up at 5:30am to roasting like a chestnut in December. Apparently something (most likely the box of summer clothes I had to pull out last week) was on the cord, so when I turned on the blanket I couldn't see the dial and had to guess where the heat setting was. Not recommended. Didn't sleep much. Part of my sleeplessness could also have been attributed to a late-day cup of coffee that I just "had" to have around 4pm. Note to self: you MUST observe the "Decaf after 3pm" rule. Yes, I am one HUNdred years old. Speaking of which, I met last night with a small group of people from high school to begin planning our 25th reunion later in the year. Ugh. That is just obscene, did I really type that? I think at some point you should be allowed to stop counting and just put out an open call for the reunions. Something like, everyone in the 70's or all the 80's all at once. Or just "Old Farts Reunion, September 3, we won't tell if you won't". Might be a bit easier on the ego, just sayin'. I guess I should feel lucky. My mom, who just turned 75, has a reunion every year because they are down to like 10 people and they never know who will survive the next 5 years. Allright, well, the rain persists. While I was up so late I went ahead and finished up Stephanie Snowe's book (Meeting Mr. Wrong) around midnight so I guess it's on to the next. I am trying to pick up the reading these days, devouring any and everything in my path. 14 books so far this year. I highly recommend Steph's book for a good, quick read. The girl is hilarious and her subject matter will be appreciated by anyone who has EVER dated a complete loser. Or a parade of losers. **guilty** But that is a story for another day. My life, honestly...

Monday, April 26

AAAANNNNND....the kickoff is Goooood!...

People always tell me I should write a book. I may not have an overly interesting life to some, but weird things always happen to me, and I have resolved myself to view these things as humorous rather than offensive, hurtful, or just icky. I am a 40-something just trying to get my crap together. Better late than never.
So, here I am, about 10 years late to the blogging scene. But better late than never, I guess, is the theme of my life. I have to say that really, in the grand scheme of things, I do not think my life is especially interesting or glamorous. But don't click away just yet!!! You never know what might happen next!