Ruby Slippers

Ruby Slippers

www.niemanmarcus.com

Just Consider Cinderella!

Glam Spikes

Seen on Piccsy.

So me!

Spikey Spikes

Available at Nordstrom.

Halloween 1987

The only costume party I've ever attended...it was great fun!

As you can see, I got creative with the glitter make-up.

I was 27 years old.

Another Dimension

Copyright 2011, 2009 Reed Morgan

Patent Leather and Lace

Seen here.

Coin Toss

Naughty but Nice

Seen here.

Vanity

"How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live." - Henry David Thoreau

Gangster Heels

Seen here.

Coco Agrees!

Pink Glove Dance

To raise awareness of breast cancer, two years ago Medline sponsored Providence St. Vincent's Medical Center in Portland, Oregon, to produce the original Pink Glove Dance. The response was overwhelming, and as of today the video on YouTube has had 13,302,214 views and has generated countless Pink Glove Dance events.

Last year a sequel was done, featuring health facilities from across the United States. The response has been so outstanding that Medline decided to host an online Pink Glove Dance Competition for the United States and Canada.

Approximately 135 organizations entered the contest. The top three winners will receive donations in their name to a breast cancer charity of their choice. The amounts of the donations are $10,000 for 1st place, $5,000 for 2nd place and $2,000 for 3rd place.

Voting began on October 3, and the winners will be announced on October 28.  To view the videos and vote, go to pinkglovedance.com.

Following is the video of the original Pink Glove Dance, as well as the entries of hospitals that have played a part in my life. Please vote!

Original Pink Glove Dance

Providence St. Vincent's Medical Center, Portland, OR

I was hospitalized here in 2007.

This video is not eligible for the Pink Glove Dance Contest.

Stillwater Medical Center, Stillwater, OK

I worked here in 1981 and 1982, in the Dietary Department.

Go here to cast your vote for this video!

Parkland Hospital, Dallas, TX

I received medical services here many times in the early 2000s.

Go here to cast your vote for this video!

Baylor University Medical Center, Dallas, TX

I was born in this hospital in 1960 and was hospitalized here three times.

My mother was hospitalized here many times,

and she passed into Heaven from here in 2006.
The charity they're dancing for is The Bridge Breast Network,
who helped me when I had no money for medical services.

Go here to cast your vote for this video!

Eliminate Prostate Cancer Testing?

"The United States Preventative Services Task Force has prepared a recommendation against prostate cancer testing for ALL MEN.  Among the many problems with this rash action is the fact that many men are high-risk not just for diagnosis but to DIE from prostate cancer.  Such a recommendation threatens to put them into harms way by telling their doctors that they should not be tested for prostate cancer.

"Tell them they're wrong - write a letter to your editor today."

http://www.capwiz.com/zerocancer/issues/alert/?alertid=54317501&type=ME

"The United States Preventative Services Task Force has prepared a recommendation against testing for prostate cancer for ALL MEN.  This is a disservice to men - particularly men who are at highest risk of dying from prostate cancer.

 

"Please send a letter to your Representative and Senators today to bring their attention to this very harmful action and ask for their support to raise awareness about the importance of early detection and education about prostate cancer."

 

http://www.capwiz.com/zerocancer/issues/alert/?alertid=54315501&type=CO

Red Ankle Spikes

www.justfab.com

Kiwi Berries

Am I the only one who never heard of Kiwi Berries? I received some in my produce box today. You know what they taste like? Kiwis! And the skin isn't even fuzzy! I think they turn reddish when they're ripe. My, my!

I put a quarter in the photo for scale.

Belting a Child?

PORTLAND, OR (KPTV) -

"A Portland dad faces charges of assault and criminal mistreatment, after police say Craig Hague admitted to hitting his daughter with a belt.

"Police say his daughter, 9, told her grandfather that, on September 19^th, her dad slapped her twice on the face and then took her into a bedroom where he struck her with a belt four to five times, causing bruising so painful she had trouble sitting at her desk in school, according to police.

"Child abuse detectives say the girl told her grandfather that her father was mad at her for taking some jewelry to school that belonged to the father's girlfriend.

"Police say Hague later admitted that he struck his daughter and caused injuries.  Detectives say she was examined on Sept. 26 by medical professionals who specialize in child abuse, who noted she still had bruising.

"Fox 12 looked into Craig Hague's criminal history and discovered a past conviction of assault from 2002.  The conditions of his probation following the conviction stated he required parenting classes, anger management, and barred him from physical discipline of any child.

"In a phone interview, Hague told FOX 12 that the incident has been devastating and he feels horrible. He said he never meant to hurt his daughter and now worries about losing custody of his children.  Friends of Hague described him as a great father."

Copyright 2011 KPTV. All rights reserved.

Wow. My Daddy would have been in jail 1000 times over. Before he belted us, he'd fold that belt in half and pop it; I'll never forget that. It was a belt used only for spanking and it hung in the utility room. We'd have to go get it for him. I remember many a school day when I would have to balance this way and that in my desk because my bottom was bruised.

Excitement Next Door

It was a dark and stormy evening. Ha! Not really. But it was very late (early?), about 2 a.m. maybe. Well over a month has passed now, but I still want to tell the story.

I was sitting at the computer, with my back up against the wall that I have all my crosses hung on...the wall I share with the next apartment. You can see the back of the chair on the left in the following photo:

August 2011

Suddenly I heard loud knocking. It was so loud that I thought at first it was at my door, and I tip-toed to the peephole. I saw nothing. The knocking continued; it was clearly on the door of the apartment next to me. (I've never seen anyone go in or come out of that apartment). The noise turned into banging. I have 21 crosses on that wall, and they were all trembling. Then it was banging and a man yelling, "Open the door! Open the door NOW!" One of the smaller crosses fell off the wall. I still could see nothing through the peephole, and I started to back away from my front door.

"Open the door NOW, or we'll kick it in!" Oh, sheesh, I thought. This is a drug deal gone bad! I ran for my cell phone (which was by my computer) and then ran to look out in the parking lot to make sure there was no police car: I'd feel really stupid calling 911 on the police! But no police car. Just as I dialed 911, someone started trying to kick the door in. Another small cross fell. The two large metal crosses were starting to clang against the wall. I was afraid to go near the computer.

While I listened to the recording ("if this is an emergency, push 1; if this is not an emergency, push 2"), the kicking on the door continued. It was clearly two men taking turns, and I could hear their heavy breathing. It seemed a very long time that they were kicking that door. Finally the 911 operator came on. I breathlessly tried to explain what was happening and she said, "Do you live at ___________," naming my apartment complex. I said, "Yes!" just as I heard the door give way and a man yelling, "Down on the floor! Do it now! Hands above your head!" The realization hit me just as the operator said, "That's the police kicking the door in; everything's under control."

Yep. I'd called the police on the police. I hung up the phone and looked out my window again. Very far away in the dark, no where near our building, I could barely make out the light bar on top of a car. Huh. The ol' stealth approach.

A few minutes later, I heard talking outside my door. I peeped again. There were two police officers there, one telling the other what had happened and why they had kicked down the door. He said, "One of the neighbors called, worried that someone was in danger. He was trying to keep her from opening the door. She was clearly in distress. Is there any way we can secure the door tonight?" Their voices faded as they walked away.

The next day when I left my apartment, inside of going down the stairs to my right, as usual, I la-la-la'd my way toward the stairs on my left. Sure enough, the neighbor's door was ajar and the door frame was in splinters. Late that day, I noticed that the frame had been repaired and the door was closed.

After about two weeks had passed, I opened my front door and the sickly-sweet smell of decomposition hit me in the face like a soggy dishrag. My heart dropped. (It's one of my fears that I'll die in this apartment alone and no one will find me until I start stinking up the place). I went to the door of the aforementioned apartment and sniffed all around, but the smell seemed no stronger there. So then I walked all around my building, checking underneath stairwells, walking through all the corridors on all three floors, checking under the bushes for a small dead animal, staring up at balconies that had open windows...all the while taking huge breaths in through my nose. The smell was everywhere, but I couldn't find its source.

So I called 911 non-emergency. I reminded them about the event here a couple of weeks before, and I said that I just wanted to make sure. I also said, "I probably watch too much TV." But the police operator said, "No, it's better to be certain; I'll send an officer out."

Several minutes later there was a knock on my door. It was a heavily tattooed female police officer. I opened my door...and there was hardly any smell at all! She was very nice, and she asked me where the smell seemed to be coming from. I explained how I'd tried to find its source, but no luck. She said she smelled it downstairs, but it was faint. Then she said, "I think it's just sour garbage, not decomp. Believe me, I KNOW the smell of decomp." Well, of course she did. But so do I, just to a lesser degree. This was no sour garbage.

So I apologized for overreacting, and I mentioned again the brou-ha-ha from next door a couple of weeks prior. She said, surprised, "Oh, is he back?" I said, "I don't know, I haven't seen anyone, it's just made me a little oversensitive, I guess."

After she left, I repeated my search around and through the building. I smelled NOTHING. (I've since come to the conclusion that someone had a small dead animal in their trash and had put the trash on their balcony, taking it to the dumpster when they saw me and/or the police "sniffing around").

I guess now I'll be flagged by the police as one of THOSE callers. But at least I know now that it's very difficult to kick in the front door, and I know there's no poor abandoned soul decomposing on the other side of my wall. I'll take my comfort in that.

High-Heeled Commando Boots

By Top End

Australia

Live in the Moment

Rainy Evening

 

I found this here.

My Kind of Decor

I found this here.