How about a laugh, (hopefully)

That could be taken several ways. LOL

in reply to @olderdiva12345 I am glad this gave you a laugh. I need one now, and perusing the recent posts of others has helped. I just looked at a quote: "Whoever is trying to bring you down, is already below you."
-kushandwizdom

I have previously posted about a comment a "friend" made to me that she thought I looked like a Holocaust victim. She called me today but I did not answer the phone, so she texted me asking if she could call and I said "No, I am not well." She told me to pray. Finally I told her that because I feel honesty is always best, her comment to me really resonated. In fact, I went to ULTA cosmetics a few days ago and asked one of the young women there if they had any products that might help me look a little more "alive." She gave me some samples to try, and if I like them I will go back next week to buy something. I do not wear makeup, but used to when I was working. So, I told this "friend" what I had done, and her response was that she was glad I was getting something to help me look less "gaunt." Perhaps I am sensitive to such comments because I have always taken great pride in my appearance. My clothes are always ironed, creased down the front of my shorts, that I now have to buy in the boys department because my normal 31 inch waist is now 24 inches. I texted this person back and included the definition of "gaunt" and asked her if she had ever seen the movie "Bambi." You know, "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything." I always liked Aesop, "The prudent person looks before leaping." Anyway, this evening the woman texted me back and said that "gaunt" is not insulting. I beg to differ, especially considering that I have lost 40 pounds in one year, unintentionally. I wonder how any of those men and women at the infusion center I saw last week would feel if someone told them they looked "gaunt" and their friend was glad they were buying something that might better their appearance. I want to cry, but can't. I don't understand people anymore, at least those among us who have no sense of humanity or kindness, like we do. All of us on this platform have suffered, are suffering, and while I wish I could save all of you, I know that I cannot. However, all of you have saved me in more ways than I can tell you. I ask so little of others, this was the way I was raised. It is not a bad thing, but sometimes I do feel like I need some help, and now is that time. The woman who texted me also said that she had apologized, and that she was leaving it up to me to decide whether I wanted to be "friend" or "foe." I don't want either. All I want is peace, respect, maybe some love, and also some sense of humanity thrown my way, because I think that as a decent person, I deserve at least these things. I recently began following a guy on Instagram, where I go mainly to look at Smuckers, a pit bull who is always cute and reminds me of my dog who died last year. The fellow's name is Dan De Luis, and he lives in Ontario, Canada. He is amazing, and the wisdom he shares is so "right on." Things like "protecting your peace," getting rid of "toxic people" and things of that nature. On Sundays he has a half hour program with deep breathing which I watched for the first time last Sunday. I do not know if he is a mental health professional, but he is very astute about people and how we have to choose the "right" people to be in our lives. He is of course, a stranger to me, but he has been of great help to me, and he has helped me to reestablish my feeling that perhaps there are kind people in our world who give without asking of anything in return, like we do.
I woke up one morning this week covered with you know what and had to do three loads of laundry. This is my life. I wonder how my "friend" would react if I shared this with her. However, I still lift weights, create beautiful things for others, and my garden looks like something out of Sunset Magazine. I know, pride is not really supposed to be a virtue, but for me it is, because I did not learn how to be proud until my dog died and I became ill. I recently sent my sister a card and told her that I had not told anyone that as a result of my illness I actually think I am a pretty good person, am selfless and a loyal friend. I wonder if anyone else has become more empowered as a result of their diagnosis, whatever that may be.
Tomorrow I am going to Harvest Day at the UC Davis Horticulture Center so that I can support my friend, who was once my doctor. And yes, my clothes are already ironed and I just might wash my shoes tonight. Crazy.
Thank you for reading this, and also for helping me find my way in the dark without a light.

One dark night in Dublin a fire started inside the local chemical plant.
In a blink of an eye it exploded into massive flames. The alarm went out to all the fire departments for miles around.

When the fire fighters appeared on the scene, the chemical company president rushed to the fireman in charge and said, “All our secret formulas are in the vault in the centre of the plant. They must be saved. I will give 50,000 euro to the fire department that brings them out intact.”

But the roaring flames held the fire-fighters off.

Soon more fire departments had to be called in as the situation became desperate. As the firemen arrived, the president shouted out that the offer was now 100,000 euro to the fire station who could bring out the company’s secret files.

But still the fire fighters could not get through.

From the distance, a lone siren was heard as another fire truck came into sight. It was the nearby rural township volunteer fire brigade, composed mainly of old men over 65. To everyone’s amazement, that little run-down fire engine roared right past all the newer sleek engines that were parked outside the plant. Without even slowing down it drove straight into the middle of the inferno.

Outside, the other firemen watched as the old timers jumped off right in the middle of the fire and fought it back on all sides.

It was a performance and effort never seen before.

Within a short time, the old timers had extinguished the fire and had saved the secret formulas.

The grateful chemical company president announced that for such a superhuman feat he was upping the reward to 200,000 euro and walked over to personally thank each of the brave fire fighters.

The local TV station caught the thank you on film and asked the chief, “What are you going to do with all that money?”

“Well,” said Paddy, the 70-year-old fire chief, “the first thing we’re gonna do is fix the brakes on that bloody fire truck.”
Jake

in reply to @olderdiva12345 I am glad this gave you a laugh. I need one now, and perusing the recent posts of others has helped. I just looked at a quote: "Whoever is trying to bring you down, is already below you."
-kushandwizdom

I have previously posted about a comment a "friend" made to me that she thought I looked like a Holocaust victim. She called me today but I did not answer the phone, so she texted me asking if she could call and I said "No, I am not well." She told me to pray. Finally I told her that because I feel honesty is always best, her comment to me really resonated. In fact, I went to ULTA cosmetics a few days ago and asked one of the young women there if they had any products that might help me look a little more "alive." She gave me some samples to try, and if I like them I will go back next week to buy something. I do not wear makeup, but used to when I was working. So, I told this "friend" what I had done, and her response was that she was glad I was getting something to help me look less "gaunt." Perhaps I am sensitive to such comments because I have always taken great pride in my appearance. My clothes are always ironed, creased down the front of my shorts, that I now have to buy in the boys department because my normal 31 inch waist is now 24 inches. I texted this person back and included the definition of "gaunt" and asked her if she had ever seen the movie "Bambi." You know, "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything." I always liked Aesop, "The prudent person looks before leaping." Anyway, this evening the woman texted me back and said that "gaunt" is not insulting. I beg to differ, especially considering that I have lost 40 pounds in one year, unintentionally. I wonder how any of those men and women at the infusion center I saw last week would feel if someone told them they looked "gaunt" and their friend was glad they were buying something that might better their appearance. I want to cry, but can't. I don't understand people anymore, at least those among us who have no sense of humanity or kindness, like we do. All of us on this platform have suffered, are suffering, and while I wish I could save all of you, I know that I cannot. However, all of you have saved me in more ways than I can tell you. I ask so little of others, this was the way I was raised. It is not a bad thing, but sometimes I do feel like I need some help, and now is that time. The woman who texted me also said that she had apologized, and that she was leaving it up to me to decide whether I wanted to be "friend" or "foe." I don't want either. All I want is peace, respect, maybe some love, and also some sense of humanity thrown my way, because I think that as a decent person, I deserve at least these things. I recently began following a guy on Instagram, where I go mainly to look at Smuckers, a pit bull who is always cute and reminds me of my dog who died last year. The fellow's name is Dan De Luis, and he lives in Ontario, Canada. He is amazing, and the wisdom he shares is so "right on." Things like "protecting your peace," getting rid of "toxic people" and things of that nature. On Sundays he has a half hour program with deep breathing which I watched for the first time last Sunday. I do not know if he is a mental health professional, but he is very astute about people and how we have to choose the "right" people to be in our lives. He is of course, a stranger to me, but he has been of great help to me, and he has helped me to reestablish my feeling that perhaps there are kind people in our world who give without asking of anything in return, like we do.
I woke up one morning this week covered with you know what and had to do three loads of laundry. This is my life. I wonder how my "friend" would react if I shared this with her. However, I still lift weights, create beautiful things for others, and my garden looks like something out of Sunset Magazine. I know, pride is not really supposed to be a virtue, but for me it is, because I did not learn how to be proud until my dog died and I became ill. I recently sent my sister a card and told her that I had not told anyone that as a result of my illness I actually think I am a pretty good person, am selfless and a loyal friend. I wonder if anyone else has become more empowered as a result of their diagnosis, whatever that may be.
Tomorrow I am going to Harvest Day at the UC Davis Horticulture Center so that I can support my friend, who was once my doctor. And yes, my clothes are already ironed and I just might wash my shoes tonight. Crazy.
Thank you for reading this, and also for helping me find my way in the dark without a light.