Living Proof

'Bout to have mah' baby, but first, lemme take a selfie! No doubt, the ability to take a selfie with the reverse cam option on your phone was such a great invention. Nobody has to take your picture for you. I love seeing people post up shots of themselves or post up a really cool seflie for a profile pic. That's great. But I have to say, there is one thing that makes me nervous: multiple selfies. I know what you're asking - why would that make me nervous? Because it's narcissistically psychotic. There is no other way to put it. You know through the 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 pics that they took of themselves in a row, there's about 298 more of the same shots. It's like throwing a bunch of proofs up on Facebook and asking your friends, "Which smile or duck face looks better on me?" Below are some shots some girls took while feeling 'pretty'. America's Got Talent - definitely. 2nd pic proves that duck face isn't an option for her. ...

This may or could be a part two of my previous post , but a bit more focused on our obsession with our smartphones. Even I have to sometimes catch myself and consciously turn my ringer off or tuck it away when I'm in the company of other people, especially in a restaurant. But it goes beyond just being rude in general. We're so focused on capturing that perfect rainbow or that amazing view of the mountainside or that incredible sunset right before nightfall, that our minds forget the actual moment. We cannot enjoy that moment, because we're too busy trying to capture it all onto our smartphones and then loading it up onto social media. I did an experiment and refrained from grabbing my iPhone because I saw a huge owl sitting peacefully up on a phone wire, on the road next to us. I could have gotten a great shot of it. It's my favorite bird in the world. Instead, I watched him jerk is head around and I looked at all of his beautiful colors, until he opened up his magni...

Don't get too happy, because… Personally, I don't think I would want to win a huge lottery jackpot, (yeah right) maybe a few million ,  but nothing that would stir the world around you to knock on your door and beg for some cold cash. Here's the problem: if you ever won, say the Mega Million jackpot, you would literally have to go into some sort of strange witness protection program. People from all over would be knocking on your door. This includes: family members, long lost family members, people with the same name claiming to be family members, friends, friends of friends, Facebook friends, brand spanking new friends and of course, your local churches would take a steamroller just to get through your door. Think about it --- would you knock on your friend's door if he or she won the Mega Millions? Think hard. What about a family member? Would you dare to ask them for even a penny? I find it repulsive --- re-pul-sive --- that some people would beg others for ...

Did you ever wonder about people's "bad habits" and why they do what they do? Some people smoke, some people drink, some people do both and others head to the bigger stuff to fulfill their "highs". I remember when I used to smoke two packs a day as a teenager. Addictions start at a very young age, especially today. You'd think a teenager wouldn't have a care in the world: no bills to pay, no steady job or health problems from aging -- just school and it's trivial little teenage dramas. But there's much more pain involved: lack of acceptance, low self-esteem, stressors from flunking, and of course, being bullied. I had all of those "problems" that caused me to not only smoke, but drink heavily as a kid. Health class taught us that smoking was a stimulant, but every single time I took a drag of my cigarette, it relieved my anxiety somehow. With each puff, my problems seemed smaller. And not that it got me "high" --- there was ...

My work station today. It looks like I can't "wine" anymore since Facebook rejected one of my posts that included the "promotion" of alcohol due to a photo of a glass of wine. They said that it would encourage kids under the age of eighteen to drink. Isn't there a rule that sets the age limit for eighteen and over on Facebook? And why would one of my posts send some teenage kid on a drinking binge? Eh well, I guess I'm just a bad example. So yesterday I decided to take a ride with Madelene to bring Lola to the vet for her booster shots. I hobbled around a bit, but did quite well. As soon as we were done with dinner later that evening, my back locked up again while I was sitting down on the recliner. I could not get up and even when Mad helped me, it felt like she was removing my entire spinal cord out. It's been almost two weeks and I feel like I'm starting to lose my mind. I can't do anything. I still can't make the bed. (Mad! Please...

As you probably already know, I grew up in an Italian household. Mom had three girls, and then seven years later, she had an “oops”... me . I didn’t mind. It was like having four mothers and one large man who always protected us. I remember I was about three years old lying in my parents’ bed and Dad was busting my chops and teasing me, so I looked over at my mom and said, “Why did you give birth to him?” I just thought Mom was like some “god” who produced all these different people who were living with us. Even back as a kid, I remember Dad being so hard of hearing, or perhaps he just had selective hearing. We’d ask a question and he would botch it up like autocorrect on an iPhone. Me: “Dad, where’s the fly swatter?” Dad: “What? Ya want a glass of ice water?” Me: “Hey Dad! I brought home some quesadillas for you!” Dad: “What? A case of beer?” It always seemed like a challenge trying to get something across, especially if you were in the other room, which was maddening. He was a...