Numerology Lifepath 2

 Lifepath 2.... Numerology by Julianna Rowe aka Diane O  

 First of all that is my dog! She hates conflict too. And the handsome man is my son who has a Lifepath 2.  To find out your Lifepath number and the energies you carry with you all your life... add the month, day, and year you were born.                  

September 21, 1978        9 + 2 + 1 + 1 + 9 + 7 + 9 = 11 = 2                       

God gave you the day you were born!  Well, unless some doctor decided to induce you early for whatever I hope Godly reason.  And your parents gave you your name so you can blame them if you've had a hell of a life.  Actually, all you have to do is change your name. Or change one letter of it! If you are married to a 2 lifepath just know that person needs to know they are loved.  They are mediators. They do not like conflict and are sensitive!

The following information is learned from Glynis Has Your Number book which can be ordered online at her website with the same name.  She is amazing at explaining numerology in a very understanding manner.

Lifepath 2 Vibration:  The Mediator 

This person is someone who is seeking harmony in life.  They do not want conflict.  Music has an especially soothing effect on them.  They are easygoing.  They look for love.  If you want someone who is affectionate, you should seek a 2 lifepath number because they do like hugs and kisses.  Unless all their other numbers are moving them away from it, it's their natural way. They are mediators and dislike conflict and will do whatever it takes to avoid it. If there are two people in their lives fighting, they'll try to fix it.  2's tend to be psychic.  They have dreams that tend to come true.  They also experience deja vu.  It's never a problem for them to follow; they don't have to be a leader. Because of their natural psychic ability, they tend to be good at astrology, Numerology, tarot reading, tea leaf reading, and "I Ching."  They also are good at counseling and social work.  They have tremendous compassion for people, and 2's don't like to be alone.  They crave unconditional love and make great parents, who tend to be friends with their children.

2's don't need the spotlight. They'll do the job.  As a matter of fact, they are the type of number that would donate to a charity in secret.  They would just do it out of the kindness of their heart. 2's need to bring people together and they're the ones to see when looking for anything from a dentist to a carpenter.  They know everyone and love to help them out. The only time a 2 gets angry is if they feel pushed or threatened.  Otherwise, they are easygoing.  If you look into their eyes, you can just see what good people they are.  That's just where they come from.  The flip side of a 2 is that every so often you might meet a 2 who feels they do everything for everybody and they feel drained.  Yet if you know them personally, you may feel they are giving themselves too much credit. So simply, if you look at a number (and I tend to go towards the positive of who they are), there are two sides -- the positive and the negative.  I still think it's important, when it comes to a 2, to keep in mind that they are here to love others and to be loved in return.  If you work with them, they will definitely come through for you.  2's have to be careful not to take on the problems of the people they love.  My (Glynis McCants) analogy for the 2 is that if they saw someone in a well, and the person said, "Help me," the 2 would jump in and ask, "What's wrong?" only to look up and say, "Oh God now we're both in here."So it's important for the 2 to have passionate empathy but to stand back and say,  "Okay I'm sorry that happened, but it's your problem.  I'll help as best I can but I'm not going to get in it with you." 2's have to be careful not to place themselves at another's disposal because eventually, they will get angry and resentful.  2 often worries about what others think of them.  Of course, you have to stop and say, "What people think of me is none of my business." 2's have to let these criticisms be like water off a duck's back. It's important that the 2 keeps the peace, but not at the cost of their sanity. When a situation gets too extreme -- and the 2 is surrounded by emotional vampires, who are taking all their energy - It's OK to just walk away.  Otherwise, what you don't deal with mentally will eventually attack you physically, and that's why 2's can wind up with physical problems. 2 vibrations, although they do tend to be peacemakers and seek harmony when they feel threatened or pushed to the wall and get upset, it is like a volcano erupting.

Famous people with Lifepath 2:   Information gathered from www.tokenrock.com

Al Gore * Barack Obama * Bill Clinton * Bob Hope Colin Powell * Jackie Kennedy *Jennifer Aniston

Madonna* Meg Ryan* Michael Jordan * Prince Charles * Richard Burton* Robert Monroe *

Ronald Reagan * Rose Kennedy * Rush Limbaugh * Terri Irwin * Tim McGraw *

If you would like to know your lifepath send me your name and date of birth at: 

dianeogden.ogden@gmail.com

 

 

Lifepath #9 in Numerology

 

Numerology 9 LifePath ......

You can find out what your lifepath is by adding up the month/day/year. 
Example: 11-22-1947  1 + 1 + 2 + 2 + 1 + 9 + 4 + 7 = 27 = 9

The 9 lifepath energy is a humanitarian.  A giver.  Executive Leader. The 9 usually also has issues with

one or both parents where they feel either abandoned or totally responsible for one or both parents. 

They have an attachment to their original family and need to let go of them. And sometimes the 

9 lifepath shows signs that someone has messed with their confidence.  The 9 needs to be needed. 

9's are always taking care of people.  But, many times they live in the past. 9's need to lighten up 

and forgive themselves for being human. They need to stay positive.  9's make good writers, reporters, doctors, nurses, lecturers, artists, illustrators, and social workers.

Rock  Hudson = 9 lifepath
Tom Jones = 9 Lifepath                   
Lisa Marie Presley = 9 Lifepath
Lance Armstrong = 9 Lifepath
Anthony Hopkins = 9 Lifepath
Garth Brooks = 9 Lifepath
Shirley MacClaine = 9 Lifepath
Camilla Parker Bowles = 9 Lifepath
Frank Lloyd Wright = 9 Lifepath
Ricky Martin = 9 Lifepath
Mahatma Gandhi = 9 Lifepath
Whitney Houston = 9 Lifepath
Robin Williams - 9 Lifepath
Kurt Russell =  9 Lifepath
Harrison Ford = 9 Lifepath
Elvis Presley = 9 Lifepath plus his name adds up to 22 master number
Bob Marley =  9 Lifepath
Ricky Nelson = 9 Lifepath
Jimi Hendrix = 9 Lifepath
George Burns = 9 Lifepath
Alan Greenspan = 9 Lifepath
Charles Lindbergh = 9 Lifepath
Me = Julianna Rowe aka Diane Ogden = 9 Lifepath

Some of my information is learned from the book: Glynis Has Your Number

At The Heart of all TRAUMA..... ( by Jeff Foster)

 

Jeff Foster (www.lifewithoutacentre.com)

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AT THE HEART OF ALL TRAUMA

At the heart of all trauma, a terrible sense of isolation, disconnection, loneliness.

Follow your trauma to its devastating core, friend, to its heart of darkness, and you will inevitably meet the abandonment wound, the pain of all pains.

Abandoned by mother, father. Forgotten and misunderstood by the world. Cast out of heaven and separated from the Godhead. Divided from life.

Of course, it’s an illusion. You were never separate from the mountains, the forests, the diamond drops of morning dew. You were never broken, never rotten at your core, never separate from the One. You were always loved. The terrible heart of darkness was always your own exquisitely beautiful heart of light, so fragile, so powerful, so loveable, so real.

Ultimately others cannot save us. Each of us are called to confront our aloneness, dive into the heart of our trauma, and find solace and sanctuary there. Others can hold our trembling hands but they cannot travel for us.

There is no external saviour, and the lie of love is that another human being - parent, partner, guru or god - can complete you.

No. Your completeness is in your brokenness. We cannot save each other but we can weep together, walk together, share our terror, our horror, our shame, our hope and our awe.

Walking in the forest at dawn, our eyes meet.

I recognise your longing as my own.

Love is a recognition.

- Jeff Foster

A POEM BY JUDGE DENNIS CHALLEEN

 My Firstborn Son Lives in a Small Box, a Cell

 

By Judge Dennis Challeen

We want them to have self-worth

So we destroy their self-worth

We want them to be responsible

So we take away all responsibility

We want them to be positive and constructive

So we degrade them and make them useless

We want them to be trustworthy

So we put them where there is no trust

We want them to be non-violent

So we put them where violence is all around them

We want them to be kind and loving people

So we subject them to hatred and cruelty

We want them to quit being the tough guy

So we put them where the tough guy is respected

We want them to quit hanging around losers

So we put all the losers under one roof

We want them to quit exploiting us

So we put them where they exploit each other

We want them to take control of their lives, own problems and quit being a parasite...

So we make them totally dependent on us

Gut Instincts........ by Julianna Rowe aka Diane Ogden

 

My friend and mentor always told me to make decisions using my "gut." You know, as in "gut instincts?" Well, it stinks alright because what starts in my head ends up like scrambled eggs or Humpty Dumpty that can't get put back together again....Or like a big ball of unraveling string. And we are all learning or have learned that what we think is what we get. Oh great, now I can think about how I can be put back together again, like Humpty or Scrambled Eggs. If made incorrectly without following the "gut instinct," some decisions could have those not-so-good consequences. Yikes...how to cut the ball of unraveling string that leads to the heart and causes heart strings, and those strings don't live too far from the poor "gut" that is trying to unravel the mess and come out with a clear answer.

Sometimes I don't do anything regarding a decision that allows life to decide for me...again, not-so-good, I have found out through trial and error. How much error can the mind and body handle? Pretty much from my experience. Not that I wish to experience such again. Letting life make my journey vs. mwah, that is!

 So, is my gut half full or half empty?  Or is my brain half full or half empty?  Don't answer that!

The Thorny Stem Keep the blossom Alive By Julianna Rowe aka, Diane Ogden

The Thorny Stem

I often work out of my car, so listening to Audio Books has replaced negative politics and talk radio. The last book was a true story by Richard Paul Evans called "Finding Noel." It wasn't hostile, but I cried while driving around the city for four hours while listening to that book. Well, one hour of it, anyway. Richard's Mother died. No one could find him; therefore, he missed her funeral. That was just the beginning of this four-hour story. Richard decided to end his life after losing his scholarship, his job, his fiance of four years, and then his Mother when a young girl came upon him in the middle of a snowstorm. Yes, he fell in love with her. Her name was Macy, and her Mother died when she was 6. The Father was a drug addict. Therefore, she was separated from her baby sister Noel, age 4. The prominent family adopted Noel, and somebody beat Macy constantly at her new home. Macy ran away, and a woman named Jo saved Macy from a shelter on Thanksgiving years later. (Sure, right, Thanksgiving!)

Richard talked Macy into finding her long-lost sister after he was hired to play guitar at the Java Junction, where she worked. To cut this short, Jo adopted Macy even tho she was an adult.  Jo died of Cancer....Noel found Macy.....they had each been given a Christmas Ornament from their natural Mother before she died, with Noel written on it. Noel accidentally broke hers while in college and found a letter from her real Mother inside telling Noel the truth that her adoptive family refused to do. The girls figured their dead Mother made the ornament break. I believe that. Richard found out his Father wasn't his Father while visiting his Mother's grave. Stu, the stand-in "Father," showed Richard a gravestone that belonged to his real Father and the man his Mother had loved all her life. He was killed in Vietnam and was an avid guitar player. (Go figure)

And that is why Stu never treated Richard very well. Ah Ha! Well, all ended happily....Macy and Richard married and had three children. What's my point?

My dream was to help children who needed love by adopting them. So I did that for a few years. In fact, both of my precious foster girls graduated, have had children, and are doing well.  People don't realize what these children go through, but I seem to understand.

At the end of Richard's book, he says we "fixate on the blossoms.....when it is the thorny stem that keeps the blossom alive." It keeps the plant alive only to get a few blossoms throughout its life. I say we are the same as the rose. We must learn to appreciate the everyday thorns because without them there is no life and no blossoms, ever.

Don't ya hate it when people try to give you a fast rundown of a book they just read!  Me too!

photo from NatashaP at www.flickr.com

I Ate Dog Food! By Julianna Rowe, aka Diane Ogden

 

While I was grocery shopping the other day, which is more like preparing for outer space travel considering the prices and choices versus the average pocketbook, I decided to buy a "can" of beef hash. God only knows why I did that because I don't eat canned beef hash. I eat organic foods and some Healthy Choice dinners and so on. But there it was this morning in the pan with the egg. Then the scent came rushing upwards (like at take-off) into all my senses, and those senses said, "Dog food!" I swear it smelled like the cheap cans of dog food I used to occasionally heat up for my dog Gracie Allen. Even her organic dog food smelled better than this beef hash smelled. So I made a conscious decision to attempt to eat it, thinking maybe it was purchased out of some beautiful hidden memory from childhood or one of the better minutes of one of my better marriages. Not! It smelled and tasted like lousy dog food, and I will never buy it or eat it again unless it is all there is to go with the bread we will get in the depression bread lines. 

Eeewww. Stop that talk!

Fruit Cake Lady! by Julianna Rowe aka Diane Ogden

 

My helper and I arrive at my Psychiatrist Client's home around noon. Upon arrival, we see she is home which never happens. You see we have never met her, she hired me sight unseen.
So in we go.... After all the greetings and more salutations, we comment on the wonderful aroma in the air. The psychiatrist says, "Mother is visiting (age 90) and making her famous fruitcake. If you are lucky you will leave with one, and if you are not you won't."  

My helper and I finished our work, all the time believing we might get to share the physical sense of said aroma. As I silently watched Grandma sitting in her rocking chair reading, and secretly wondering why she hadn't gotten up to wrap up those two mini fruitcake loaves for us. But there was time. Then I made it a point to tell her I was going to finish up the foyer on my way out. She said it was nice meeting us and we responded likewise. We left and quietly walked to my car....still in great hopes the old lady would hail us back to retrieve two wonderful fruit cakes. Instead, I looked at my helper and said. 

"I guess we aren't lucky huh?" 

My helper said. 

"Guess not!"  

All the time I was thinking about what a weird and wrong thing for a psychiatrist to say to us. Just in case Grand Mommie Dearest did not give us a fruitcake, which in fact happened! 

I know we are lucky anyway.... just thought the comment interesting. What would the shrinks shrink say was her reason? Wait a minute....you don't think that unlucky thing had anything to do with me forgetting to rinse the pan I made my ham and cheese omelet in this morning, do you? I took one bite and tasted Dawn dish soap. The dog wouldn't even eat it!  Yeh, that was a stretch.

Or, I better speak to that unlucky stream of words someone sent me and erase it from my Facebook just in case! No more losing fruitcakes for me. My guard is up! 

People can be so interesting!  One cannot take anything personally! Lucky me.

Observe Dont Absorb by Julianna Rowe, aka Diane Ogden

About thirty-some-odd years ago, I gave my heart to pull a family back together.

My mentor always told me to be an observer and not a participant! Obviously, I didn't listen. It doesn't matter the reason the family was torn apart, but it was. I forgave, gave, pulled, plugged, and lost most of myself on that darn journey, only to discover they wouldn't change at anything I did. Nope, not, nadda. Incredibly stubborn Germans and Norwegians, and then add some of the "dead people" generational cells that LOVE to carry on the crap....and that they do with magnificence. (Wouldnt want to give them too much glory) 

There came a time back then when I decided to divorce my emotions from all of them before my heart took a dive, and one of my kinfolks might try for the last win and bury me in the dirt vs. cremation as I had requested. That particular kin fed me things I was allergic to, so why wouldn't that specific person bury me in the dirt? That person would so that they could have a big luncheon dealie to show off. That's what Lutherans do, you know.  Big luncheons for the living after the dying.

Back to my point. D I V O R C E.....where is George Jones's wife when I need her! What was her name? It starts with L...no a T, Tammy Wynette.  D I V O R C E. Even though my divorce was a divorce of emotions, it still stood for a legal and final separation. My mentor told me that I should maintain decency and kindness when I got divorced.  She said, "Treat it like you would treat the Grocery Store Checker Boy!" With decency and kindness.  Most people can barely do that in everyday family situations.

I say dysfunctional families are more like an egg. They "start out ass-es," and they stay ass-es. If you read my blog posts, you know how I dislike the raw egg laying in the pan with that white milky umbilical cord waiting for me to eat it. I don't, and I won't! Family is the same! We start with the umbilical cord, and someone cuts it, but the spiritual milky cloudy (ghosts) still try to hang on and hang out! Some can let them go, some cannot, and some try to work around the darn things. (The Ghosts, I mean) I did that, and it didn't work. I did do something wrong. I tried too hard. I should have OBSERVED only and saved myself.

Today was another should have OBSERVED only day. I wanted to play like Marie Osmond and drive up the coast (we have no coast) until there was no end or I ran out of gas. It was a long day—lots of "Stinkin Thinkin" and a lot of Drama from the Mama like a soap opera. (Obviously, I absorbed) I like creativity, not so much drama.  I had a lifetime of it, and enough is enough.

I’m emotionally ready for:  "Paper or Plastic?" Easy peasy. 

It's a new day, a good day, because I learned to observe not absorb. 

Which Dating Site? by Julianna Rowe aka Diane Ogden

 Which Dating Site?  by Julianna Rowe, aka Diane Ogden

 My sister-in-law urged me to join a dating site, so I did.  She once told me to get a job selling insurance, so I did, and I was very successful.  She tells me all the time that I am not in charge. God is. Her Dad tells her that, so she passes it on to me. Not sure why because I know that.  Back to match.com, Silver Singles, E Harmony, and or OurTime.  So I filled out the questionnaire and answered everything as truthfully as possible without scaring anyone off, then submitted nine photos. 

The main photo is me with my hair in rollers.  I just had to do it.  The good pics were only a click away if the prospective man could handle the rollers.  And so, they did click away, that is. 

I met up with one fellow, certainly not a "gentleman," as he asked me what I would like, and I said, "Ice Tea," which, after two hours, I had never received.  No manners!  I almost forgot; one of the first things he said to me was, "Do you have to wear those glasses?" RED FLAG! Need I say more? And he wanted me to go snowshoeing in the woods.  I could borrow his sister's snow shoes.  Seriously?  No, thank you... If I couldn't get ice tea out of him, I am liable not to get back out of the woods with any help from him what-so-ever.  And fishing?  Nope, he should have friends by now, men who like to be quiet and watch a string hang in the water for hours.  I would be working on my 25,000 woman words a day and scaring the fish away!  

The next guy never stopped talking about the roller photo.  He didn't understand why I would do such a thing. First of all, he had no sense of humor. If he got 220 emails, he would also put up an ugly one first. But of course, I didn’t want to say that. He then told me I must not like adoration. So yes, I looked it up.  

Adoration: The act of paying honor, as to a divine being; worship. Reverent homage. Fervent and devoted love. And after ten emails with him, it was still under discussion, so, I deleted the "pretty boy."

I haven't given up, but so far, 85% of them want a slender, athletic body-toned woman.  Yet they look like they are about to deliver.  Twins that is.  Men!  They just don't care about what's under the boob....its all about the boobs.  I am not fat, and I have boobs and a heart under one of 'em that will continue looking for a nice fellow that will go fishing without me.  I'm just not that into it.  And the more I think about it, I might not be that into this dating site crap either.  Sorry sister-in-law, this is like too much work.       

But I am keeping the door open for a fellow who would like good conversation, laughter, a dance in the kitchen, wandering around the grocery store together,  dinner out on occasion, and a road trip to anywhere.   Rollers not included. 

The Cleaning Lady...... Will Never Tell! by Julianna Rowe

 I have a business called "A Green Experience," which means my clients choose to have their homes cleaned using all natural Green (cleaning) supplies. I have seen everything from "erp," and I don't mean Wyatt, in bathroom trash containers, to enough dog hair from one cleaning to make forty wigs. OK, so four wigs. But I'll never tell.

The other day, one of my clients approached my daughter, who occasionally worked with me, and asked her if she could clean the Green cleaner off his toilet seat after cleaning it with said Green cleaner.

She said, "Sure, but why?" He said, "Because I got stuck to it!"

I couldn't stop laughing because I wanted so badly to say, "No, it is not the Green Cleaner. It's that you sit too long, sir!

You have stacks of magazines, crossword puzzles, and pens, heck it looks like an office next to the toilet. My Grandpa used to say, "Either sit there and think or sit there and stink." Sorry, but he was an old Farmer, and when I was just old enough to read, I saw that written (a tad differently) on the outhouse wall.

There was an old Sears Catalog in Pa's outhouse for the purpose of wiping. I crumpled the pages and rubbed them together to soften them for obvious reasons. I was six years old!! If you have never wiped with a piece of paper, you have missed out on a piece of life. But then, I have never used a leaf, and I don't figure I have missed out on a darn thing.

OK, so back to what I have seen. Sweat so thick on walking machines it is yellow; no, I won't clean that up! I have seen closets I wouldn't let the cleaning lady see. Now I know why my friends always cleaned up before the cleaning lady came. I love seeing a beautiful black flat stove top someone used like they were cooking over a campfire. And I am supposed to figure out how to get a quarter of an inch of black crust off it. But I'll never tell. How about teenager's rooms where you can't see the floor for the clothes and glasses of water and bowls and trash and SPIDERS? One of my clients tells me I forgot to dust off the top of the furnace regulator. Yet the inside of the closet looks like a trash bin. But I'll never tell. Once, I even got fired for cleaning the cat's water fountain, which was unfit for carp... You have to laugh at that one.

Then there are those people who have been blessed financially but don't take care of what they were blessed with...I am speaking of the tangible items their money buys them. I am in awe of the number of shoes people have, the organic foods, the pottery and artwork, the remodeling, the closets bigger than my bedroom, the seven bathrooms, and so on, but I'll never tell. I don't mind, I get to people watch, which is one of my favorite pass times, and I get paid for it. I keep in mind that I nurture a home, which is my job. Whatever they do with it beyond that, I can only watch for the humor of it all.

The above Photo is not of me! Don't you wish, and so do I! And note that this bottom picture was a bad day after the toilet went over and down the steps! Cute socks, huh?

Cardboard Coffins, Amarillo. Coming out soon on Amazon. by Julianna Rowe

 

Boobs That Speak! by Julianna Rowe, aka Diane Ogden

 Boobs That Speak............... by Julianna Rowe, aka Diane Ogden

Okay, so don't you think the boobs on this page are speaking? They are Madonna-type boobs.  And Oh-eM- Gee, look at those girdles.  God said to gird up your loins, and some designers totally misunderstood.  Not sure what the good book says about boobs...  oh yeah.. in Solomon:

Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.  Your neck is like an ivory tower. Your eyes are the pools of Heshbon by the gate of Bath Rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, looking toward Damascus.  Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. Your hair is like a royal tapestry; its tresses hold the king captive.  How beautiful and pleasing you are, O love, with your delights!  Your stature is like the palm, and your breasts are like fruit clusters.  I said, "I will climb the palm tree and take hold of its fruit." So may your breasts be like the clusters of the vine. The fragrance of your breath is like apples.

Well, let me say those breasts inside that armor do not appear like fawns, or twins of a gazelle, or clusters of the vine.  You think?  I wore a bra similar to that in high school, and I wore a girdle, but it had separate leg openings. In fact, I wore it to Prom, where it was not removed sometime after midnight like most other girls' girdles were.  Or am I lying?  I can’t imagine getting that thing off anyway  in the back seat of a 57 Chevy.  If I remember correctly, it looks or feels like putting your trying to put your hand into a single-finger cot.  Or like trying to put your car in the dryer...for lack of a better "splainatory." You could get one leg in and then forget about getting the other one in.  It had to be two at a time, and then pull up with all your might.  I know that is what caused my back issues. LOL.   

 And check out the price.  $7.50.  Nothing costs $7.50 anymore. I can't buy a pair of socks for that price.   Or a dozen organic eggs.  Or a bar of good chocolate. 

Whoever came up with such nonsense for us women.  Who? Who said it was okay to truss women like a workhorse?  A good bra (brassier) is one thing, but bullet shooters an altogether a different deal.  I am surprised Christian Grey didn't use these girdles and brasseries on Anastasia Steele in 50 Shades of Grey.  That is how I view them.  Like painful equipment before sex.  Yup......just like Prom for millions of girls back in the '50s.

 I was searching for some photos from the 40's (I wasn't born then). Yes, you were. Okay, so it was the LATE 40s, and I ran across these two pictures I knew I would have to save for a blog post.  And here it is.

 At least the latest in girdles are not painful.  They are called SPANX...  hum, back to the 50 Shades of Grey again!   I seem to have hit on something.  Yes, I read the book and watched the movie. 

Notice the caption under the photo below:  "YOURS FOR A GLORIFIED LIFETIME.”  L O L  And then under that line, it says:  With LIFE'S magic fit, all the way.   I am laughing silly at how they put these words together. Keywords are just like on the internet now in 2023!  MAGIC, ALL THE WAY (back in the 50's, when a person heard "all the way," it meant sex.  Hey, did you guys "go all the way?"  It meant intercourse.  No, that is the truth.  Cross my heart.  Funny me, that's the name of a brassier.  Wait, it's Cross Your Heart—more keywords tuned for more significant sales. How about one called, Cross Your Fawns?  I better not be making funnies about the Bible.  Erase Erase

Until next time, be safe, be happy, and get rich so you can buy Spanx.  They don't hurt.

Later's

The Hitchhiker By Julianna Rowe

 Coming Soon:  

Is that Johnny Depp?

So this is Taos, New Mexico!  And this is son #4, who can't say he was ever a middle child. Well, sort of he was. Two families, three brothers, him being the "baby," until the finale came along, being a girl...the ONLY girl, which put him in some unknown category called "dumped by the only girl after four boys." Sad, yes....sadly, a Mom's hindsight...Oh yes! However, look at what all that neglect, middle child syndrome, lack of a father figure syndrome, and other issues produced. This twenty-seven-year-old man has got it all....

He buys all his clothes at Goodwill because he wants to. Check out his tan patent leather shoes, for God's sake. I am hooting by myself in my computer room.  He meditates and scrutinates (is that a word) everything he eats, thinks, and drinks.  He loves the world and everything in it, excepts no negativity in his earthy space, and is authentic. This picture of him is notable because it represents his "old ways" and traveling days. He reminds me of a James Dean of his time.  He has done commercials, TV extras, and a TV Reality Show in Beijing, China, he travels the country and world giving back to it, the world that is. That's not all.  That old truck he's leaning on represents his love for the mundane, un-corporate America, the real. Some people say he should "work" harder at a "real" job.  But I say he does, and he did. Honoring his path might be honorable because “one of these days Alice," this young man might outdo the "B-Pitt man."  Or the Johnny Depp man. Or be their double! 

He is now 38 and doing well.  I always knew he would.  

Need advice on the last chapter.

 Having trouble figuring out the address of my YouTube channel.

youtube@dogden49.com  

Google:   YouTube:  Diane E. Ogden NOT the SURVIVOR TV Diane Ogden

Moving On Chapter Thirty Six by Julianna Rowe

Chapter Thirty-Seven:   Moving On

I made the decision knowing I had been born into control but decided not to die in it. I received my airline ticket via email from Southwest Airlines.  Seat number, and flight number, but no assurance I would live through it. That was obviously up to me.  I had read the books, written the books, and listened to the YouTube videos, but this time I had to stand up and walk the talk. 

I showed up at Gate 9, checked my beautiful, borrowed luggage in, and waited for the call to do what I had been unable to do for decades.  Move on. Growth is the only evidence of life (John Henry Newman) I said to myself trying to convince myself of it.  I was terrified but I needed to stop wearing my wishbone where my backbone needed to be. I heard that somewhere and wrote it in my phone notes.  It popped up at the most opportune time, just then.  And then another: The mind is owned by self and can make heaven or hell or hell of heaven. (John Milton) And then I remembered where I got those from.  Channel 942 on my cable station played soft music as it added these positive sayings to each song. The one that struck me as I heard my boarding call was: “Be miserable or motivate yourself, either is a choice. (John Milton)

With that, I rose and walked the “plank” of my life ship toward the next chapter rising above the wake where the wasted lie in wait for their next victim, no longer me.

“I am not a product of my circumstances but a product of my decisions (choices)! “Stephen R. Convey. 

The End

(I suspect this isn't a very good ending and would appreciate anyone reading this emailing me a better one!  You can do this with the assurance I won't divulge your name or I will give you credit. )

 My email is:

dianeogden.ogden@gmail.com

Thank you 

Also visit me at: youtube@dogden49

(Diane E.Ogden NOT the SURVIVOR TV Diane Ogden)

  

 

 

 

 

 

A Voice from the Past Chapter Thirty Six from The Ghosts: by Julianna Rowe

  Chapter Thirty-Six:  A Voice from the Past

Late one evening in March of what year I won’t divulge, I received a phone call from an old High School friend from California, where we lived before the dreaded move to Farmville that changed the life I had planned.  It was my High School sweetheart’s wife.  We had been in touch minimally through Facebook, but this call was a direct verbal conversation.

Some say puppy love, but most of us never forget our first love. In fact, one of my good friends reconnected with her first love at age thirteen.  They are having the time of their lives. He is eighty, and she is seventy-five!  Maybe it was the memory of their youth they wanted to revive?  Maybe the fear of getting old?  I don’t know.  All I know is they are happy in the now. They go dancing, out to eat, on road trips, and even do a bit of lovemaking on occasion.

I had been with my High School sweetheart when the news came, we were leaving the state forever. The blow was crushing to both of us, but considering I was underage, I would be moving across the United States from a big city to a farming community with my legal parents.  We said our goodbyes in tears. 

 I saw him one more time a few years later during a visit to the Grandparents, but time had stolen our time.

When I answered the phone this past March, the person on the other end asked me if I knew who this was.  I apologetically said I did not recognize the voice or the area code. I figured it was the vehicle warranty call I get three times a day.  But it was not.  She spoke.

“It’s me, Londa, Dwayne’s wife, your Dwayne, you know, from Los Angeles, from High School?  I know he would have married you if you hadn’t moved away.  He told me you, and he did the dirty. 

I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.  Londa was on a roll. 

The first words I spoke were.

“No, ma’am, Dwayne and I never did that!  He was just trying to make you jealous.”

Truly I don’t believe she believed me nor ever will, but it is the truth. 

When she got those foremost issues off her mind, she settled down, and we talked with normalcy about our lives and what had transpired over the decades. The fact is we talked for three and a half hours.  She told me she had decided she was sending me a plane ticket using Dwayne’s money for me to fly down to the next class reunion and surprise everyone.  Yes, indeed, she was going to enter the room with the other Dwayne’s wife.  Well, in a matter of speaking or something.  

I sort of laughed it off, thinking it would never happen.  Getting to go back to see all my friends and be physically at the place in life I never wanted to leave in the first place.  Full frigging circle!  After all these decades, and if it didn’t happen soon, I’d be strolling in with a dang walker instead of strolling in the American Bandstands, “The Stroll.”  Dare I dream of this really happening?  Me.  I had been used to the opposite.  I had been fighting the contrary for decades. She was dangling a dream bigger than even she realized in front of me through a U.S. Cellular technical wire three thousand miles away.  It was pure energy she was sending.

We are here on this planet to learn.  Evolve. And she was sending me unadulterated energy in the form of a blessing. But was I ready for it?  Had I overcome the bullying, the gaslighting, the triangulation, the manipulations, the interrogations, the deceptions, and the pissing in the wind fucking confusion I had been beaten up with over the years.  Did I have the confidence to get on a plane?  Meet and greet adults who had most likely done far better than me monetarily.  Answer the questions?  What have you made of yourself?  How many times have you been married?  How many fathers have fathered your children?  How much is in your IRA? Why haven’t you retired yet? And what’s with all those men we see struggling to stay above the water in the wake of your ship of life?  Is your Mom alive?  What did she leave you? How fucking many dogs have you had?  Why can’t you swim?  But Gawd you are gorgeous, don’t look any different than when we were in High School.  What’s your secret?  How long can you stay?  Can’t believe you and Daryl didn’t reconnect?

I had put myself in California at the reunion when I was still on the phone with Londa.  I had projected a negative outcome on something that hadn’t even happened yet, and those projections came from fear. I made the decision I was not going until I had my thinking on a bit straighter, as they say.

We had a lovely conversation between my wonderings off and back on.  She told me how Dwayne had provided her with a good life.  He repaired BMWs and other foreign cars.  She even sent me a photo of the home he bought her, no less than near a million-dollar dwelling.  And there I sat in my two-bedroom apartment, my little pink cutie kitchen, my bookshelves full of what I wanted to do and be, my two needy cats, some leftover furniture from the last guy still floundering in the wake behind my ship of fools, and my office where I write.  Oh, I forgot she also sent a photo of their huge sailboat.  I saw no men floundering behind her ship in its wake.  None. Shit, I suddenly felt like Elizabeth Taylor!  Everyone loved how she looked, and that was it. And sadly, my outer beauty was fading.

Well, now, hadn’t my bar been raised.  Could I live up to the expectations of who I should be, or who they thought I should be, or as in the old days when we did the Limbo, would I fall onto my ass and crash in a heap of deception. Who was I?  Was I the person she remembered and looked up to as the others did at my High School?  Or was I the woman who gave too many pieces of herself away leaving her with nothing left but the stories she wrote in books?  Who had I allowed to mess with my confidence?  I am sure there is a physics equation that would tell me how my life was systematically driven to this place.  And at that moment I felt like pueck warmed up.   I was so busy worrying about who had tried to kill me I couldn’t see who I was.  And I was still on the phone once again, trying to screw up what might be my last chance at paradise. At least what I thought was paradise.  California.  

I had been waiting for time to heal my wounds.  But it was me that had to do it. I had to step out of my office, out of my books, and make the move.