Dear Diary...

There is no one in the world that knows more about me than "Dear Diary." Since I was fourteen years old, I started writing to "Dear Diary" and our relationship has continued to blossom. Sometimes I'm hesitant in what I write to "Dear Diary," because I'm afraid that I'll be a disappointment. But "Dear Diary" has never raised an eyebrow or objection about anything that I've written. Instead, "Dear Diary" has remained steadfast and faithful and has never judged me. Sometimes, when I don't feel like writing to "Dear Diary," we sit and reminisce. I can't believe how much "Dear Diary" remembers. "Dear Diary's" memory is astounding. There are instances that are crystal clear to "Dear Diary" that I may have completely forgotten. More importantly, I can't believe how much "Dear Diary" continues to teach me even after all these years. There are times when I have written to "Dear Diary" in absolute assurance that certain actions of mine were true and correct or my treatment of others were justifiable, but as time passed and "Dear Diary" is in the mood to reminisce again, in the most non judgemental way I am brought to see the real truth of my actions. "Dear Diary" is my most truest mirror and my most dearest confidant. There are times when thoughts run ragged in my mind and without "Dear Diary" I would drown in them. And then there are moments, the most solitary of moments, when I feel so weighted down that "Dear Diary" is my only solace and comfort. I'm most grateful for the times that "Dear Diary" has forgiven me when I have
been lapsed in writing. I would sometimes have dry spells that last months and when I finally do write to "Dear Diary" I'm playing catch up with all the events that have happened. I feel bad that I've treated "Dear Diary" so poorly, but never a harsh word is spoken about my absence. Even now, when I've put off writing to "Dear Diary," there are so many things that I could have or should have written; I feel neglectful but at the same time I know that "Dear Diary" is patient and knows that when I am ready to write . . . I will.

Living in Envy

It's been nearly a week and a half. I still can't believe they did it. My sister and her family have moved back to Hawaii! I spoke to her yesterday and there was a sound of relief and lightness in her tone; it was as if she were smiling through the phone. I am so envious of her...happy, but envious. I could "hear" such a huge change in my sister's voice. She kept saying, "I'm so glad to be home." It made me even more homesick. I wanted to jump on the next plane out of here. I wanted to just shed everything that's holding me here and head on home to Hawaii. **sigh**

Hail To The Chief

I have never taken an interest in politics. I claim no political affiliation (much to the disappointment of my father, a long standing Democrat). And yet, this past presidential campaign had captured my interest as never before. I found myself watching with growing interest some of the more high profile candidates. I wasn't very informed on the politics of the candidates, but still I listened and I watched and I waited.

The first time I ever heard Barack Obama speak was in 2005. He was receiving an award from the NAACP. I didn't know much about him other than he was senator of Illinois and I don't recall much what he said. I do remember thinking how eloquent he was, how passionate he seemed to be, and how he could possibly run for president one day and have a really good shot at it.

In a speech given at a dinner fundraiser back in 2005, Mr. Obama stated, "The battle lines may have shifted and the barriers to equality may be new, but what's not new is the need for everyday heroes to stand up and speak out for what they believe is right." He may already have been grooming himself for the White House.

Fast forward three years and presidential candidate Barack Obama is spiraling up the polls and generating a historical ripple that would change the face of this nation. He campaigned in Utah when I was still living there. The news reports showed a huge following in a predominantly Republican state. The press coverage showed a mass amount of people showing up to support him. That was impressive.

At the California Democratic Convention, he said "if we don’t meet those challenges, we could end up leaving our children a world that’s a little poorer and a little meaner than we found it." He sounded sincere, concerned, hopeful, truthful...he sounded like he really wanted to make a difference. And I believed him.

When he says, "Our government should work for us, not against us. It should help us, not hurt us. It should ensure opportunity not just for those with the most money and influence, but for every American who's willing to work. That's the promise of America, the idea that we are responsible for ourselves, but that we also rise or fall as one nation, the fundamental belief that I am my brother's keeper, I am my sister's keeper." I believe him.

And when he rallied the country under one banner and reached out to those across the globe, he spoke to the world saying "This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can." So says, President Barack Obama. And I believe him.

http://www.boston.com/news/politics/politicalintelligence/2008/07/mccain_rips_oba.html

There is a book store down the road from where I live; I've passed it every day for the past 2 months. I look for the sign, even though I already know what it says, and as I come up on it, I read it and it makes me smile. Yes, that's odd, weird even, but it does...so, there! Two months is a long time to deny myself the opportunity of perusing the endless possibilities of literature. I was hesitant to go inside because, well don't laugh, but I didn't want to be disappointed. I didn't want to find that it was a crappy store full of crappy books. That would have been so disheartening and....crappy.

Paperbacks Unlimited, which is the name of the store, is a literary treasure trove. They have a large selection of genres to choose from, which I can attest to because I walked the length and width of the store in the course of 3 hours. It didn't take 3 hours to walk through the store, it took me 3 hours of perusal within the store. I shop in bookstores like some people shop for clothes or shoes. We are all addicts of one thing or another. I publicly acknowledge that I love British literature best, but I would never presume to limit myself to any particular genre, because . . . well, I love books.

So, imagine my surprise when I found a book entitled "Danny Boy, The Lengend of the Beloved Irish Ballad." I've always had a fascination with the song "Danny Boy." I'm sure it has a lot to do with the fact that my brother's name is Danny, but ever since I was about 7 or 8 years old, and I heard Doris Day sing "Danny Boy" I was hooked. And now I have a book about the song.

3 interesting facts about the song "Danny Boy."
1.) The words were written by a British lawyer (Frederick Edward Weatherly) who wrote it on a train on his way to work in 1910.
2.) The tune for the song "Danny Boy" is based on an old Irish melody called Londonderry Air that is over 300 years old.
3.) The lyrics for "Danny Boy" had been filed away for 2 years until Weatherly was sent a melody and was asked to write lyrics to compliment the music. He dug the lyrics of "Danny Boy" out of his old files, and with only a few alterations, a new song was born.

The author, Malachy McCort, wrote that the song "has a profound effect on people from all corners of the world, a trait it shares with the truest of any work of art." As much as I love the song, "Danny Boy," I never once thought of it as a work of art. But, McCort is correct in stating that the song has the capability of reaching people everywhere, and after having read the book, I can see the artistic value of the song.

A melody was performed by a blind Irish fiddler and his tune is carried across the sea and mingled with the words of an English lawyer who creates "a song capable of describing, at least in part, the contents of the human heart." Any rendition of the song will cause a lump in my throat and bring tears to my eyes. The words are full of longing and sorrow, faith and hope, loss and reunions. It's all of those adjectives and more.

Aren't books wonderful?

A Paris Window

I took this picture as I stood on the bridge across the Seine river in Paris, France. My cousin and I maneuvered our way through the underground metro (which took us at least 30 minutes because we kept getting turned around) and made our way street level; cars, crowds and buildings far older than anything we had ever seen rose up in front of us. They were old and ornate, they bespoke of queens and kings, of revolutions and royalty. And here I was standing in history; standing on the streets of Paris!

We walked down the Champs Elysee and sat on a bench where we ate baguette sandwiches, chocolate crepes and drank Orangina. We watched the cars and the beautifully dressed people go by. I had always dreamt of such a moment, but never really thought it would become a reality, an actuality. It was beyond my dreams!

Sometimes, I am in awe of some of the things that I do. Isn't that a weird thing to say? I executed a plan which put Sonja and myself on a plane to France and surrounded us in a culture and language that was foreign on so many levels.

The reality of my life is that I sometimes bog myself down with too much thinking and sensibility. I put my mind into overdrive and can literally think myself out of things that I really want to try or what I imagine myself capable of doing. I can be so irritatingly practical at times.

I stood in front of Notre Dame! See the picture? That's me -- standing in front of Nortre Dame! How unbelievably incredible is that?! I often dreamt of what it would be like to walk the halls of the cathedral, look up at the stained glass windows or sit on the church pews and soak up the atmosphere. Now, I don't have to wonder any more. It was awesome!

Of all the photos I took while in Paris . . and trust me there are a lot of them, this next picture is my favorite. TAH-DAH!!!

A picture of our window looking out on the street below. We stayed on the 5th floor in the Hotel de Paris, which is in the 19th district. Basically, we were on the outskirts of the Paris district. We were hard pressed to find any Americans in that area. And still, we strolled the streets as if we belonged. We became prolific in saying, "Bon joure" and "merci" to everyone we met. And we even ordered croissants in French. Can you beat that?!

And every night, after our daily adventures, I would sit on the window sill and look down on the street, listening to a cacophony of Parisian sounds below: sirens that echoed in the night (we found it was a regular occurrence), and sounds of laughter and music floating up to our open window . . . I was thrilled by it all! I was in love with Paris! I love Paris!

It was exhilarating knowing that I had done something so out of the norm, and out of character! I want to carry those feelings and memories of being courageous. It's so empowering! So, I think I'll make a copy of my Paris window and carry it around with me. It'll be the reminder I need to always be courageous enough to just . . . try.

RE: Email on Burundanga Drug‏

So, I got this email from my cousin in Hawaii. You know how it goes: spams, forwards, junk mail, alert! alert!, this was so cute, I just had to send it, etc., etc. The gist of the email was that some lady at a gas station was approached by some guy who gave her his business card. She drove away and noticed the guy following her; she also noticed a strange odor on her fingers and began to feel dizzy, and couldn't catch her breath. With some quick thinking on her part (so the email goes), she got away, the man drove away, and thus we now have an email about drug-laced business cards.

The email states: "This drug is called 'BURUNDANGA' and it is used by people who wish to incapacitate a victim in order to steal from or take advantage of them."

I replied to everyone (42 people) who's email was attached to mine . This was my reply:

You know how sometimes good intentions get the better of you? This is one of those times. I read the email below about the drug-laced business card and I thought to myself "how crazy is this world getting? You know?" And then, it got me thinking...can someone actually ingest a drug (of such high toxicity) into their skin just by holding onto a business card? Really? On a business card? Who are these people handing out these cards? High-level espionage spies?! And why go to all that trouble to stake out unsuspecting women at gas stations? And if such a thing were taking place among the general population, wouldn't that be something that the press would have jumped on? I mean, come on, that would be a HUGE storyline!

So...I googled the name of the drug "Burundanga." As it turns out, it is a drug which originated in Columbia; similar to date-rape drugs and often used on unsuspecting tourist, so the story goes, which you can read on the following website which also has copies of the aforementioned emails: http://www.snopes.com/crime/warnings/burundanga.asp According to the website, the drug is typically "slipped into the food or drink of the intended victims, or it is packed into cigarettes or sticks of gum." The website also indicates that the drug cannot be absorbed through the skin, and there are no legitimate reports of it having happened here in the United States. Basically, (and thankfully) the drug is currently only associated within the regions in and around Columbia.

And now we can all rest easier....one less crazy situation to worry about! Ahhh.... :) Rita

Sometimes, I have way too much time on my hands. LOL!

The "Four" Tag

Four Things I did today:
1.) Made breakfast for my uncles and family.
2.) Went with my uncle to pay off funeral services for my aunt (it's been a tough month).
3.) Picked out an Urn for my aunt's ashes (I think she would like it).
4.) Sent out online obituary to Honolulu Advertiser for my aunt.

Four Things on my To-Do List:
1.) Get back on my work schedule.
2.) Pack away my aunt's clothes for my uncle.
3.) Organize my aunt's financial paperwork for my uncle.
4.) Get my own bills organized.

Four Guilty Pleasures:
1.) Sleeping...it's my favorite past time.
2.) Alone Time...just to get away from everyone.
3.) Food...of all varieties. Ummm...yummy.
4.) Wanting to hibernate to read and write.

Four Random Facts:
1.) I really, really like croissants.
2.) If I could do without a cell phone, I would.
3.) I want to go to my high school reunion this year...it's in Vegas!!
4.) I'm thinking of moving back to Hawaii...still in the thinking stage, only.