Do people still have a sense of humor? Both of my sons like to laugh. I sometimes question their sense of humor, but that’s my job. I am their mother. And I seldom believe their political beliefs. But that is true of how I feel about a lot of people. I love all of them anyway. I try to make it unconditional …. with conditions. (SIGH) So, in their honor ( “collateral damage that I am….), I am posting my version of the Sunday Funnies, without comment. Maybe. WELLllllll… Maybe a few comments. HAHA. First, some questions without disclosing what I believe…. (as though it won’t be obvious….)
Are Republicans overtly trying to undermine our democracy by voting against things that help a lot of people?
Will Californians ever realize how good they have it without living for a time in the South or middle America?
How do I love unconditionally people who hate what I love and/or love what I hate?
How do I accept and love my new state of being? What is that? you ask. [with edits from me]
“Don’t expect people to understand what you are going through, they can’t. A stroke (big or small) is so disabling and life-changing, it is impossible to understand unless experienced; only other stroke or TBI survivors will understand your struggles. Unfortunately, it is true with most unfortunate things happening in any person’s life. It is better to share your struggles with them than to get any sympathy or help you might need from people.” Are you “collateral damage”?
So, I am sharing my struggles and questions with you and sugar-coating them with “the funnies.” FYI, it is Paris Fashion Week. Thus the Gorgeous gown at the top.
Best, Jay P.S. Rough Seas make me seasick, and I don’t know how to sail. And I know the grass is greener for me in California and in France on the other side of the fence.
This is on my mind – LOTS. It is a glorious September day in Paris! I woke up!! After being sick all week AND tested, I am happy to report that I passed the test. I had taken two steps forward. This week I took four steps back. People were bowling – at least four that I know of. And each one yelled, “Strike!!!!” several times. I will admit that I got knocked down. I was wounded. But I still chose to get back up.
Damaged but not broken. I fell once. Oops. But I got myself back up, and I am still up. And, that fall did not break anything. And, I began healing, rediscovering myself, and starting over.
AND after much thought and consideration, these are some thoughts that I want to share with you. Get a coffee!! This may take a while as I strive to move forward. .
Two decisions: sell the piano; move back to Nice. I don’t know how yet.
I am basically a small-town Southern girl. I love cities. I love Atlanta. I love New York City. I love Chicago. I love Los Angeles. I love San Francisco. I love London. I love Paris most of all.
But I KNOW how to maneuver in a small town. (Three Sisters dreaming of going to Moscow – Chekhov) And, now in my golden years, I don’t have the money or skills to go where I want to go in this city. I waited too long. I wish I had come sooner. My friends here are having so much fun and I cannot do any of it. But again I digress…
Anyway, My Rule Book applies to small-town Southern girls in small towns where I was taught to “be a lady”. Don’t be tacky. This takes me to a wonderful post I am using with my own edits from Facebook, because I was told ALL of those things by my mother. She was a Victim begetting (my sisters and me) victims begetting (our children) victims and on and on in its petty pace through to the last syllable of recorded time.
Another important thing to think about in your copious free time (sigh) –
A writer named Camille Rainfield wrote this priceless piece, and I had ALL these things told to me: “Be a lady they said. Your skirt is too short. Don’t show so much skin. Don’t show your thighs. Don’t show your breasts. Don’t show your midriff. Don’t show your cleavage. Don’t show your underwear. Don’t show your shoulders. Cover up. Leave something to the imagination. Dress modestly. Don’t be a temptress. Men can’t control themselves.
Men have needs. You look frumpy. Loosen up. Show some skin. Look sexy. Look hot. Don’t be so provocative. You’re asking for it. Wear black. Wear heels. You’re too dressed up. You’re too dressed down. Don’t wear those sweatpants; you look like you’ve let yourself go. Your hemline is too short. Your hemline is too long. Too high. Too low.
Be a lady they said. Don’t be too fat. Don’t be too thin. Don’t be too large. Don’t be too small. Eat up. Slim down. Stop eating so much. Don’t eat too fast. Order a salad. Don’t eat carbs. Skip dessert. You need to lose weight. Fit into that dress. Go on a diet. Watch what you eat. Eat celery. Chew gum. Drink lots of water. You have to fit into those jeans. God, you look like a skeleton. Why don’t you just eat? You look emaciated. You look sick. Eat a burger. Men like women with some meat on their bones. Be small. Be light. Be little. Be petite. Be feminine. Be a size zero. Be a double zero. Be nothing. Be less than nothing.
Be a lady they said. Remove your body hair. Tan your skin. Lift your face. Tuck your tummy. Thin your thighs. Tone your calves. Perk up your boobs. Look natural. Be yourself. Be genuine. Be confident. You’re trying too hard. You look overdone. Men don’t like girls who try too hard.
Be a lady they said. Wear makeup. Prime your face. Conceal your blemishes. Contour your nose. Highlight your cheekbones. Line your lids. Fill in your brows. Lengthen your lashes. Color your lips. Powder, blush, bronze, highlight. Your hair is too short. Your hair is too long. Your ends are split. Highlight your hair. Your roots are showing. Dye your hair. Not blue, that looks unnatural. Look young. Look youthful. Look ageless. Don’t get old. Women don’t get old. Old is ugly. Men don’t like ugly.
Be a lady they said. Save yourself. Be pure. Be virginal. Don’t talk about sex. Don’t flirt. Don’t be a whore. Don’t sleep around. Don’t lose your dignity. Don’t have sex. Don’t give yourself away. Men don’t like sluts. Don’t be a prude. Don’t be so up tight. Have a little fun. Smile more. Pleasure men. Be experienced. Be sexual. Be innocent. Be dirty. Be virginal. Be sexy. Be the cool girl. Don’t be like the other girls.
Be a lady they said. Don’t talk too loud. Don’t talk too much. Don’t take up space. Don’t sit like that. Don’t stand like that. Don’t be intimidating. Why are you so miserable? Don’t be a bitch. Don’t be so bossy. Don’t be assertive. Don’t overact. Don’t be so emotional. Don’t cry. Don’t yell. Don’t swear. Be passive. Be obedient. Endure the pain. Be pleasing. Don’t complain. Let him down easy. Boost his ego. Make him fall for you. Men want what they can’t have. Don’t give yourself away. Make him work for it. Men love the chase. Fold his clothes. Cook his dinner. Keep him happy. That’s a woman’s job. You’ll make a good wife some day. Take his last name. You hyphenated your name? Crazy feminist. Give him children. You don’t want children? You will some day. You’ll change your mind.
Be a lady they said. Don’t get raped. Protect yourself. Don’t drink too much. Don’t walk alone. Don’t go out too late. Don’t dress like that. Don’t show too much. Don’t get drunk. Have a buddy. Walk where it is well lit. Stay in the safe neighborhoods. Tell someone where you’re going. Bring pepper spray. Buy a rape whistle. Hold your keys like a weapon. Check your trunk. Lock your doors. Don’t go out alone. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t bat your eyelashes. Don’t look easy. Don’t attract attention. Don’t crack dirty jokes. Don’t smile at strangers. Don’t go out at night. Don’t trust anyone. Don’t say yes. Don’t say no. Just “be a lady” they said. -Camille Rainville (my edits)
As a result, I had four marriages in which I was a “lady” throughout! My mother did not say all of that but she said a lot. You get the point. But, I digress……
So, after being knocked down, I did what all good Southern girls do, I immediately took offense and looked around at whom I could blame – according to the Rule Book. BUT, after a lot of thought and reading, I came to these conclusions with an unknown author’s help and my customized edits:
What does “take offence” really mean? According to the Collins dictionary it means: “If someone takes offence at something you say or do, they feel upset, often unnecessarily, because they think you are being rude to them.
So it means the person feels the other person is being mean or betrayed them … but what if they weren’t? What if there was no malicious intent at all and the perception of betrayal or insult was entirely in the receiving person’s mind? Is it still offensive? What if a group of people felt that person was being betrayed? Does that make it offensive? Is it a democratic majority rules type of situation, even though other people do not take offense at it? What about the super-sensitive Southern girls who feel offended by everything? Even gossip? Does that make everything offensive? Who is right? The person who said or did something who had no intent of malice or the person who received it and took offence? Probably both are right in their own mind because perception is reality as they say, according to the Rule Book. But can we be expected to be aware of everyone’s sensitivities and personal perception? No we can’t in reality as we cannot read their mind.
So who is responsible for your taking offence?
I AM! It’s actually MY choice to take offence. Just like it is a choice to get up after being knocked down. And the most emotionally intelligent response to that is to question MYself and why it upset ME? Did it trigger something for me that I am very conscious of or sensitive about?
When I have and behave with emotional intelligence, I step away from my ego and ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY for my own feelings and responses. That means that rather than taking offence at something I will question my response to it to better understand myself. I might also look a bit deeper at the person it came from and question his/her intention in saying or doing what he/she did. What might be going on for him/her so I can understand them better too. I don’t want to leave myself open to being manipulated by others and take four steps backwards with fuzzy thinking. And the Small-Town Southern Girl’s Rule Book is being updated to 2021. First update – BREAK THE RULES.
Maybe we were not meant to be lifted up by our family, maybe that was all part of the plan. We were supposed to be abused, emotionally traumatized, and hurt. Life is Duality, it’s good and bad, and right and wrong, and black and white, light, and dark, so as we try to forge forth into a new day and a better way, we become conscious of the fact that our future is truly in our hands, our actions, and our belief of a better tomorrow. As adults, we can change, heal, and unlearn.We have the power right now to understand, to understand that what we went through was necessary for our awakening; For our realization that I’m not gonna take this anymore, I deserve happiness, and I deserve to do what’s right for me and not be defined by something that was not my fault, or that I had no control over. Victims begetting victims begetting victims ……..to the last syllable of recorded time.
In conclusion, as I struggle to regain my forward momentum.
Hopi Indian Chief White Eagle commented a few days ago on the current situation: ′′ This moment humanity is experiencing can be seen as a door or a hole. The decision to fall in the hole or walk through the door is up to you. If you consume the news 24 hours a day, with negative energy, constantly nervous, with pessimism, you will fall into this hole.
But if you take the opportunity to look at yourself, to rethink life and death, to take care of yourself and others, then you will walk through the portal. Take care of your home, take care of your body. Connect with your spiritual home. When you take care of yourself, you take care of everyone at the same time. Do not underestimate the spiritual dimension of this crisis. Take the perspective of an eagle that sees everything from above with a broader view. There is a social question in this crisis, but also a spiritual question. The two go hand in hand. Without the social dimension we fall into fanaticism. Without the spiritual dimension, we fall into pessimism and futility. Are you ready to face this crisis. Grab your toolbox and use all the tools at your disposal.
Learn resistance from the example of Indian and African peoples: we have been and are exterminated. But we never stopped singing, dancing, lighting a fire and rejoicing. Don’t feel guilty for feeling blessed in these troubled times. Being sad or angry doesn’t help at all. Resistance is resistance through joy!
You have the right to be strong and positive. And there’s no other way to do it than to maintain a beautiful, happy, bright posture. Has nothing to do with alienation (ignorance of the world). It’s a resistance strategy. When we cross the threshold, we have a new worldview because we faced our fears and difficulties. This is all you can do now:
– Serenity in the storm
– Keep calm, pray everyday
– Make a habit of meeting the sacred everyday.
Show resistance through art, joy, trust and love.
Hopi Indian Chief White Eagle
BREAKING NEWS!!!!!! This week, I threw away 8 of my personal Journals. I am letting go!! So, producers who want to buy my life rights to write my interesting life story, I am open to negotiations. My memories are still sharp as a tack.
Best, Jay
Help, please.
You name it, I need help with it. Thanks in advance.
Well, this was the week from Hell and back. I am reeling from shock about “better days ahead” and trying to understand what just happened. In addition, I have had a cold (not Covid) all week. On antibiotics. With Laryngitis. I don’t know where to start. This may be a two-parter because I have so much that I want to say. I am still in survival mode.
First, a word about JAYSPEAK stats – as of today, my blog that I began in Nice in 2016 after Steve died, now has had over 48,100 views from over 45 countries in the world. I have had over 13,200 visitors and written 324 posts. My average words a post have been 816. I am astounded by those stats. I just write my thoughts about some random thought or other – whatever pops into my mind. Thanks, Guys and Girls. And, today, I have a lot of thoughts going through my mind. Today’s popping thought –
In 2017, I met a woman at a luncheon at the Wisdom Café. We hit it off immediately and started having lunch at a favorite restaurant in Nice. We “spoke the same language” and laughed a lot at our similar histories in life. It helped to have a friendly face as I was still in disbelief at Steve’s untimely death-too-soon. Meme that applies –
She told me that she believes in the “Duck” theory on things. You know, if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, IT IS A DUCK. (Law School 101). She is not a lawyer. She is a leader in neuroscience and does lectures all over the world. I, of course, asked her what she meant, and she told me that she found that most people don’t understand things the way she does because most people are ducks. She said the problem with me is that I am not a duck. I AM A BLACK SWAN. Ugh. That sounds not good. She then explained that I am different from most people, even other swans. That that makes me need to be alone a lot because not many people understand what I am trying to say. That made sense to me
I HAVE NEEDED ALONE TIME ALL MY LIFE. I STILL DO.
I came to Paris for one reason and plan to move back to Nice for lots of reasons. I wanted to go back to Georgia, but that is not going to work. Several reasons. You don’t need to know those reasons.
Bottom Line – I cannot afford Paris. For some reason, I am meant to stay in France. SO, Paris is too expensive for me because I am on a monthly budget and retired and alone. I cannot afford to move back to the USA. So, I must stay in France. I can afford a studio in Nice. It is a good thing that I like France. I have made the decision to return to Nice at some point and then to remain in Nice and not return to the USA. I will simplify and find a way to afford myself. It may take me several months to get there – maybe a year or so. That is the Plan, anyway.
I will learn the language. I want to do it soon, while I can still manage the train. Or hire a driver. I have friends in Nice. So, that is the decision that I have made. I am as shocked as you are. That is NOT the decision I planned to make. That is the Default decision. I am still in Chapter 10 and I am not ready to go into a retirement facility because it is too soon. Save me from “well-meaning people”. But, at least in Nice, I have friends who give a shit. And I am open to making a new life there. It will be fun! I expect to thrive. I plan to heal.
Today, my shock and awe and hurt are overwhelming. Time will heal. It always does. There is always light. So that is my decision because France has better healthcare than the USA. Plus a lot of other reasons. I have been abruptly reminded and now remember why I chose and moved to France in the first place. But Steve was with me. I wasn’t alone. And, I am not dead yet. So I need help. And trustworthy friends.
Paris was a complication and wonderful. A lot of snags for me. But, now it is time to simplify. I am still getting used to the idea. Daddy was right “Rough Seas make Good Sailors”. That is the decision that I am putting into action and subject to change without notice. I have already begun the search for a “studio” in Nice. Simplifying . Flexible plan.
Well, here we are in Chapter Ten, and I, for one, need something that feels normal for a change of pace. Football. It is September and that is when I long for football. Games. Brisk weather. Chaos is OK for about five minutes. Then I need something that calms me down. Like changing leaves and football games on the television set. Soccer? NO. Good, old-fashioned American football. I don’t do this calm thing. I was weaned on football and exciting Friday and Saturday football games! Gainesville High School, handsome football players, University of Georgia, Georgia Tech. University of Wisconsin, Badgers, marching bands. Football!
Okay, the above pictures are taken from yesteryear (1955), but I feel comfortable in posting those shots. I miss all of that. I am still working on feeling comfortable in Paris. (sigh)
And, I miss working, period. This weekend is the CAALA Convention in Las Vegas at my favorite Vegas Hotel (The Bellagio), and I want to be there – mask and all.. As an attorney, I did my best to fight for justice for the little guy. I tried to give back as a thank you for all of my blessings. It worked for me and I think it worked for my clients.
So, now, I do my best with this body that presents me with challenge after challenge. The good news is that I am in Paris. This is a view out my window. I look at the sky a lot.
One doctor told me that they (brain strokes) would heal, but that it would take a long, long, long, long time. Oops. I don’t do patience.
NO COMMENT.
At present, I have a lot of channels with football games, but I don’t like the hours that they come on. But, I will watch some of them anyway and check all scores and follow the season. It will be fun! Go Dawgs !! On Wisconsin!
And, now a few memes that I’d like to share:
BEST, JAY (This is not a current picture – January, 2017, but one I like.)
Grab a coffee. We are charging ahead, DESPITE all systems saying, “BREAKING NEWS!!!!” We are moving into Janet’s Chapter TEN. When last we spoke, I was flailing around in Chapter 9, adjusting to my new-found life in Paris. Then BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM. It happened. What happened? Chaos. THE NEW NORMAL! Are you talking about a Kaleidoscopic Shift? No. That would be normal as it used to be. I am talking about my NEW NORMAL of chaos. CHAOS. CONGLOMERATED MESS. MIXTURE. That is the new normal. Not just for me. And as I adjust to the changes around me, I realize that this is true for ALL of us. The whole world – chaotic climate and chaotic people and chaotic happenings requiring change. This is not the same world as it was before the pandemic. I have been humbled.
What is the plan? WHAT? NO PLAN`???????? OOPS. Are you telling me that we are going to have to suffer the consequences of our own actions without anyone to blame? Well, I will just pick someone or something. At random. That is what everyone else does. I have a list of possibilities.
You can call it what you like but everything is changing, as we speak. You can blame whoever or whatever you like, but HOLD ONTO YOUR SEAT AND FASTEN YOUR SEATBELTS. IT IS GOING TO BE A BUMPY RIDE!!!!! (Time for a meme.)
I cannot predict what is part of the mixture, or the unrest that is prevailing, but everything is changing, and I don’t see it getting better (whatever better is) for another lonnnnnng chapter, like it or not. So, I am sharing some thoughts with you while I adjust to the predictability of the chaos. These are some lost words from my childhood. I am a child of the 50’s. I was living in a peaceful and comfortable, predictable time, even though I did not know it. (sigh) For instance, (I don’t think these are just “Southern Slang”)
Jalopy; Hunky Dory; Heavens to Betsy; Don’t touch that dial; Carbon copy; You sound like a broken record; and Conglomerated Mess.
Hung out to dry; A lot of Moxie; Best Bib and Tucker; Straighten up and fly right. Gee whillikers! Jumping Jehoshaphat! Holy Moley!
In like Flynn; Living the life of Riley; A knucklehead, a Nincompoop, or a pill; Not for all the tea in China! Or A Slow Boat to China. (singing)
Back in the olden days, life used to be swell, but when’s the last time anything was swell? Swell has gone the way of beehives, pageboys and the D.A.; of spats, knickers, fedoras, poodle skirts, saddle shoes, and pedal pushers.
Oh, my aching back! Kilroy was here; Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle! This is a fine kettle of fish! Pshaw; Hey! It’s your nickel; Don’t forget to pull the chain. Knee high to a grasshopper; Well, Fiddlesticks! Monkey Business: I’ll see you in the funny papers; Don’t take any wooden nickels; Wake up and smell the roses; See ya later, alligator! Okidoki. (double sigh)
OK, I will admit that these words fall trippingly off my tongue. But I was careful to leave them out of my legal briefs. Judges DO NOT LIKE reading cliches.
Well, you get my point. I am now off and running into Chapter TEN, like it or not. Coming, ready or not. So, I will leave you with some closing thoughts that I like. I am still pondering these thoughts by a guy named Romeo Bouchard.
Food for Thought:
“It is a privilege to be able to grow old. Old age is the season for taking stock, the inevitable “diving into oneself and withdrawing from survival” (Serge Bouchard): age forces us to reinterpret our lives, to look for the common thread, to weigh their successes, misfires, injuries, pivotal moments; to do the housework, to take a distance, to transmit to those who stay and who come what deserves to be, This is why I write, at home, from source, while waiting, and you who read me help me feel alive. Like a boat leaving the port, the old people get loose, move away. Memories become their most precious treasures: they replace what can no longer be. Their descendants relay behind them their imprint in the chain of DNA and time.
There is nothing scary about aging when we realize what we are made of. We are made of the matter of the Universe, we are sons of the Earth and the Sky, we are stardust, we come from this fury to live which pushes the cosmic energy to organize itself, to live and to think about (Hubert Reeves). We are not born: we have always been: we appear, like grass in spring. We will not die: we will always be: we disappear, like grass in the fall. We are made of the substance, energy and movement of the Universe. Between the infinite winter where we were not and the infinite winter where we will no longer be, we live the time of a fleeting spring, summer and autumn, we are shooting stars, three little ones turns and we go, we leave an imprint: our children, our loves, our works.
We are, the moment of a life, the Consciousness of the Universe. The gods, the stories and the philosophies that have been invented to say it, are not worth a sunset, a living tree, the birth of an animal or of a child, the conflagration of two bodies, the permanence of ‘an attachment, the dedication of a worker, the courage of the people … and the cruelty of their masters. The beauty of the world has an answer for everything. To grow old and die, like the evening of a beautiful day: tomorrow is another day.”
So it’s a privilege to grow old. I agree. And very humbling.
So , Welcome to Janet’s World! Chapter TEN!
P.S. the memes are favorites of mine.
And, a fun cartoon portraying my Pollyanna attitude, below. (My nightmare was always forgetting my line in the school play.). Meet Mr. Pollyanna
Best JAY, signing off with a favorite photo from Chapter TWO in Daytona Beach, Florida USA as JANET, age 16, moves into Chapter TEN in Paris, France, age 84.
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All help is appreciated. CHAPTER TEN need support.
Some days are not good days for me. I think it has to do with biorhythms. But, I don’t know. So, I am not going to try to write about depression, or family values, or whatever. I have some good topics when I feel like it, and I have been trying to walk in my neighborhood. But, I want to make an appearance on Jayspeak so I am going to do a “LATE AUGUST 2021 NO COMMENT COMMENTARY FROM PARIS with love.” These are just things that speak to me. Grab a coffee.
I chose over twenty thoughts to post, but I am not posting that many. I don’t want to bore you with my gloominess. But, I find that positive memes help me gain perspective. Maybe it also does for you. i hope so. I am ready for September. I have a long list of things that I am thankful for, especially that I am in PARIS. I always like cities – New York City, Atlanta, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago. Paris, London, Rome ……. So, I am basically a happy camper. Thanks for sharing this time.
I woke up this morning filled with alarm. The good news: I woke up.. The bad news: alarmed. About what? EVERYTHING.
You name it, I was alarmed. Then I remembered (as if I ever forget) my blood pressure. Oops. Got to calm down. How ? Log onto social media. Oops. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Then I remembered that I was trying to get a good version of “my story” onto social media, and I needed to practice. The problem is that I don’t know which version to tell. There are lots of versions. After practicing for several minutes and trying out several versions, I decided that was not a good idea, either.
So, I decided to “think”. What is upsetting me so much? I need help. With what? EVERYTHING – I want somebody to help me with money, help with thinking, help with walking, help with seeing, help with planning, help with French, help with French voicemail messages, help with my questions, just someone out there willing to help me. ……. NO ONE. Where is Steve when I need him? He had my back !
Janet, no one is going to help you to do all of that. YOU HAVE TO HELP YOURSELF. WHAT???? Oops.
All it takes is money. Great Help can be bought, especially in Paris. Also, with the French Health system, you have to ask. But , but. WHAT?
You are stuck.
Now, are you mentally mature? I think so. Are you able to grasp the concept of a different perspective? I think so.
Are you really “stuck”? Yes. Different perspective: I am stuck in a lovely apartment in a safe location in a good section of Paris, France, in a building with a good concierge couple who fix whatever is broken in a timely fashion (for the French). AND, so far, I have stuck to my budget. And I have food to eat (sorta) and a little pocket change. And I am alive in a pandemic. I woke up this morning. Then, DONGGGGGG!!!
I remembered. This terror is a familiar feeling. This “I have to help myself” is a familiar feeling. This “I have no one to help me” is a familiar feeling. WHAT? My little girl.
You and your “little girl”. When are you going to love that “little girl”? Tell her to ask someone for help. WHAT?
As a very little girl, I was independent. Furiously independent. I wanted to handle EVERYTHING. I wanted to be consulted, NOT TOLD. And so, they did, along with granting my every wish. At least, Daddy did. He gave me most things I wanted – my own room, my own bathroom, a swimming pool, a one-meter diving board, a Steinway piano, a new FORD crown victoria for my birthday. Mother just hated me and punished me for my existence. She ordered me around a lot, and I usually did what she wanted. But, Daddy adored me. Oops. Did they create a monster? No.
So, that is the little girl that I am dealing with. Bold, feisty, and wonderful.
Meet Darrell !
Today is one of my fun anniversaries – 64 years ago. Darrell W. MacIntyre was the father of all my children. He died in 1986. I was so smitten and excited that day that I became Janet Jewell MacIntyre.
Also today is the day that I moved into this apartment. I moved in on August 17, 2020. The lease started August 1 but I took my time moving. I had been in Paris for almost seven months by then.
SO, I GUESS IT IS WHAT I DO NOW THAT COUNTS. Well, what do I do now with this new information? It is not new. JANET GOT HER WAY! SHE IS NOW, AND ONLY SHE, IS IN CHARGE. She now rules her universe. Oops. And she is living in Paris and not in good health. Oops.
BREAKING NEWS: I am not perfect. Never was. And I am in charge. Oops.
So, I don’t have answers. I have a lot of questions. LIke what? Like a gazillian questions, like –
How do I change my thinking?
Can I heal brain stokes?
How do I ask for help?
And, on a world stage, these questions that I borrowed from an article on Facebook, hit home: ” It strikes me that some of the same people currently expressing concern over the fate of Afghanistan’s women and girls work quite happily with Saudi Arabia, which has its own repressive government, and have voted against reauthorizing our own Violence Against Women Act. Some of the same people worrying about the slowness of our evacuation of our Afghan allies voted just last month against providing more visas for them, and others seemed to worry very little about our utter abandonment of our Kurdish allies when we withdrew from northern Syria in 2019″, along with a multitude of other matters. And those worrying about democracy in Afghanistan seem to be largely unconcerned about protecting voting rights here at home. OR, in stopping the spread of a disease that has already killed LOTS of people or politicians supporting that spread and that is, once again, raging, or accelerating climate change?
Bottom line – I see a lot of hypocrisy. It’s just today’s perspective. But I am researching mental maturity. So I can change my perspective/thinking and improve my health because I am in charge.
And that is just for starters.
I am not interested in controversy or hearing your thoughts on any of these questions. This is my universe, and JANET IS IN CHARGE. And, for now, I am researching mental maturity before I look for different perspectives. I don’t like the feeling of alarm. And, it you don’t like the questions I have asked, don’t read my blog. Sorry.
GOAL: I must practice loving myself with all of those imperfections!! My health requires a new way of thinking. Oops. I apologize for mistakes. My brain does its own thing .
Best. Jay
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Just practicing asking for help. Thanks in advance.
Today is the 16th anniversary of my marriage to Steve Orlandella. We booked a weekend at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas. Everything about that weekend was fun. But I am not prepared to write about that today. He died from heart failure on August 31, 2016, after having been treated in the hospital for double pneumonia. Very similar to an early case of the Covid-19 today. I cannot tell you the effect that his unexpected death has had on me ever since. I have been surprised at the way I have handled things. Not good. I constantly must tell myself positive things. Sometimes it works. Sometimes not.
So today, I am going to tread water and post memes that have helped me. Possibly some of you are suffering too. Maybe something I post will help you. Or, maybe not. I hope so. THIS IS NOT THE WAY I THOUGHT LIFE FOR ME WOULD BE ONCE I GOT TO PARIS. But, my plan is not working …… yet.
The même/post below is important to me. I suffer with several of them. But, it is not easy growing old and dealing with health issues in a place (foreign country) where I don’t speak the language. Yet, I am happy I wake up in Paris each morning. In France and in the USA, I had friendships that have ended – or not; I have lost (sorta) my legal and acting communities in Los Angeles where I had built a reputation for myself; I miss the certainty that I once had; I question my judgment; I have let go of who I once was; I often feel lost and unanchored; and I question my familiar traditions of the past. I tell myself daily that I am open to letting go and loving myself and accepting myself with all of my imperfections and changes. And, most times, it works. Yet, I grieve….. (read) ……
I don’t think it is too late for me to change, grow, and transform. I am definitely outside of my comfort zone.
And, now that we feel better (sigh), remember to laugh often. It is important. Here are two cartoons that I find funny (sorta).
As you can see, I don’t have answers – only a lot of questions. I continue to be hopeful that clarity will come. And, I will keep on keeping on. And, for the closer,…….
Remember, we are all digging up negative conditioning. At least , I am. So, look for the green light, take a deep breath, and GO for it. There will be bluebirds over the white cliffs of dover —- tomorrow, just you wait and see. What have you got to loose? Change will happen whether we like it or not. As Steve would say, “If you want to make God smile, tell him YOUR plans.”
HELLO, AUGUST,2021!! I thought you would never get here. Frankly, I love September. But August is full of surprises for me. I “remember” 2 wedding anniversaries, 5 birthdays of important people in my FORMER life, and one VIP death. So, I am up and then I am down. Let’s share and walk down memory lane, shall we? A moment to reflect.
Two Important wedding anniversaries:
August 17, 1957: I had my first big wedding on August 17, 1957. It rained that day. Plus, I was 3 months pregnant with my baby daughter. And Darrell MacIntyre was considered a major “catch” everywhere but in my hometown. I was very excited. And it was a memorable event. We went to the Cloister in Sea Island on our honeymoon. I found Darrell very sexy. The marriage wasn’t’ so hot. Stay tuned.
Then, on August 7, 2005, I married a man I loved very much – STEVE ORLANDELLA. He was also considered a “catch”. We booked our wedding and honeymoon night at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada. It was glamorous, fun, and wonderful. I was a successful attorney in Los Angeles, AND I was very happy. I think he was, too.
Now, for the five birthdays that were special to me. NOTE, these are birthdays from long ago when I had special friends in my hometown of Gainesville, Georgia, when I was growing up, all except for Steve. I had best friends at that time. And, I was good about remembering their birthdays. August was filled with them.
First and foremost, August 11, 1950 was Steve’s birthday. He was born and died in August (1950-2016).
August 7, 1938: Alice Whitehead Paris. She was a best friend. We have lost touch over the years. But, she was special. She is the tall, gorgeous one with me and Angela at the beach.
August 13, 1935: Rosemary Wood Johnston Dodd. She was a special friend and wonderful artist and actress. I had her paintings for years. We have also lost touch.
August 14, 1937: Carole Lilly Jones. We were best friends and still are good friends. Our parents were friends. She is my one, special lifetime friend and will always be.
August 27, 1973. Christopher John Uhler, my stepson for 12 years. A real cutie.
AND, the worst part of all of these memories is the month of August 2016, that Steve spent in the hospital in Nice, France, while the doctors battled to save his life. We NEVER dreamed he would die. We were on holiday/delayed honeymoon in July 2016 in Sardinia. It was wonderful. We were so in love. And, happy to be in France near Formula One in Monaco. Not in our wildest dreams…….
And, gone but never forgotten, Steve died on August 31, 2016. A man with a big heart, his heart failed.
I was supposed to go first. Not Steve. But, health issues plagued him and still plague me. In the plague in Paris. SO, those memories play over and over in my mind EVERY August. So, I will leave you with a picture of Steve on a good day in Marseille in June 2016 – two months before.
Best, Jay
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Thanks for any help at all that you will give to me. Aging is dealing with health issues – major and minor. Glad to still be alive with a 5-year plan in place. I plan to continue writing – as long as I can.
Those of you who know me or have followed me on Jayspeak know that I have lived a life of relative abundance. And “things” mattered, and I had a lot of “stuff”. I had saved everything in case I MIGHT NEED IT OR WANT IT SOMEDAY. I made sure that I provided for my children through thick or through thin as marriages would come and go. So, you can imagine my shock and surprise to discover that they did not want any of my stuff / things. In fact, they did not want me. So I sit on the sidelines and watch as they accumulate their own stuff / things that they want and think they need to be discarded later in life…or not, That is a long story that I don’t want to reveal in this blog, but I decided to change my ways.
I moved with my favorite husband – the love of my life – to Nice, France, on October 1, 2015. And, together, we got rid of stuff when we moved. Piece by piece.
The anniversary of his untimely death is on August 31, 2016. Almost five years ago. I began writing this blog shortly thereafter. And, I have been getting rid of “stuff” ever since. And trying to keep it together. Whatever “it” is. I now live in Paris. I don’t have much ‘stuff’. I am just happy to still be alive. A lot of my friends are gone. One friend wrote:
“Last night, my theatre family and I lost one of those people. Ray Cavaleri, thank you for being the embodiment of what a mentor is and for inspiring me to understand that there is more to an artist than striving to be in the spotlight, but to prepare the soil to be engaged in the fruitful display of the shared stories of the human experience. Thank you, Ray, for being Steve’s good friend.
“O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning…”
I am 84. And a post on Facebook puts into words what I want to say. I am struggling with brain strokes. Shock and strokes have caused physical damage to me. And, in my study of my brain, I keep getting knocked on my ass with the stark reminder that adventure, love, prosperity, prestige…anything I have aspired to at all…is just the currency I have used to buy the four things that really matter: dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins.
What?????
Yes. Realizing that even that kiss that melted my heart… only melted it because those four fairy godmothers waved their magic wands and turned my brain into a princess. But if my brain hits me with a really shitty exchange rate, if suddenly winning that Academy Award doesn’t matter, or belonging to the Television Academy doesn’t matter, or getting a part on a television show doesn’t matter and it only buys me a day’s ration of serotonin, then how the hell am I supposed to stock up for anything to look forward to?
That I can stand on the highest mountain and feel nothing but a desire to walk without a cane, is all I need to kick me in the ass and ask the most important question, how’s my exchange rate? What can I do to get more joy out of everything I’m presented with, big or small? How does anyone do that? I guess there begins one’s lifelong quest for whatever the hell I need to do to bring true value to the external pleasures of the world in the time I have left on this earth. Anything that promises – not pleasure – but perspective. There’s a good case to be made that those are the things that flood my brain with happiness because I opened a door by myself or stepped on a stair without holding on is all the evidence I need that “how I experience” is so much more important than “what I experience.” Goodbye, Steve and Ray. This post is for the two of you. I will always miss you. I will live life with you in my heart as best I can. After all, I now live where I always dreamed of living! Paris!
I don’t know who Sean Carter is on Facebook, but I thank him for getting this brain to think. It needs all the help it can get. Just some fillers that make me feel good.
“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.” ― Louise Erdrich (recipient of 2021 Pulitzer Prize).
Best, Jay
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I regret that I am having difficulties and want to get through this problematic time, but I appreciate any help you will give to me. Thanks, Jay/Janet
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