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Let them talk before they’re gone

Hannibal and Me: life lessons from history

In the winter of 2013, I attended the funeral of an aunt at an Alpine lake where she had spent much of her life and her final years. As the coffin was lowered into the frozen ground, I stood next to my godfather and whispered an idea to him.

Born in 1924, my godfather had been sent as a German pioneer to Italy to blow up roads and bridges as the Germans retreated and the Allies advanced, spending most of his time behind enemy tank lines, usually alone. He was captured by the British, spent several years in prisoner camps in Egypt and Libya, then returned emaciated to the bombed rubble of occupied Germany in 1948. He met another of my aunts (the sister of the one we buried in 2013), fell in love and wooed her. He married her in 1953, and thus entered my family, which at that time…

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About Me

Finally Finding Myself

I always knew I wanted to do something special, creative fun but had no idea what it would be. I dabbled in everything from quilting to scrapbooking but the feeling of satisfaction was always short lived. There has always been this deep feeling that there is something deep inside of me that needs to be released, a creative caterpillar waiting inside its cocoon to turn to a butterfly and spread it wings to fly. With the urging of a friend I decided to try my hand at painting. Base on past experiences this was never going anywhere. I found a strange sense of relaxation when painting that I had struggled to find all my life.

Some say I’m up tight and don’t know how to relax. I say I’ll relax when there’s nothing left to worry about. When I’m painting there is nothing to worry about. I don’t worry if everyone is going to love it or if it’s perfect or if I’m doing it “right”. I just paint.

I have found this same satisfaction in writing, blogging. With blogging I don’t feel the pressure of writing a BOOK. I just write what is on my mind, a short snippet or pages, it’s whatever is there…no pressure. I just write about what is important to me or about what others have told me are important to them.

I have finally found myself by loosing myself in creating paintings and blogs.

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#WhyIStayed

Stories From the Belly

Several months ago I wrote, “Stopping the Violence,” a blog post about a verbally abusive relationship I was in. He and I were together for nine months—longer, if you count the times we got back together. While nine months might not sound like a long period, the emotional injuries I sustained from those months with him were significant. It took me years to recover.

Yes, I stayed. Even after he punched a wooden fence one night in a jealous fit because I’d said hello to an ex-boyfriend. Yes, I stayed. Even after he swung his fist at me, stopping just before making contact with my face.

I definitely have had my issues, some of which I was working out with him. For a long time, I used to think that it was all my fault. If only I had been stronger or tougher, or perhaps less broken. Maybe I wouldn’t have…

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The Cycle

Teri Carter's Library

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When I was 16, my high school boyfriend backhanded me across the face, with a beer bottle in his hand.  We were in his baby blue car, on our way to his house, and his father was the first to look up from watching golf on TV and notice my newly forming bruise, the swelling next to my eye.  His father lost it.  My boyfriend cowered and slunk down to the basement; his dad, apologetic about his son, drove me home.

It was never mentioned again.

But we dated for another year.  Because, of course, I “loved” him, and I figured my sassy mouth provoked him. That’s what I was taught.

One of my biggest regrets is something I said to my mother right before she died.

She was in severe pain and respiratory distress, shaking and sweating, a good hour from her next painkiller.  She said, “I wish you…

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Move Over Fellas: Fantasy Football is No Longer a Boys’ Club

The Scoop Sports

Hey Guys! Newsflash: Fantasy Football isn’t just for you dudes anymore. In 2013, over 6 million females were among the legions playing fantasy football.

That’s right. Women were in YOUR fantasy football leagues, fellas, with team names like Victorious Secret, Brady’s Baby or Cleats and Cleavage. AND I bet some of you even got your asses handed to you by a woman or two. WHO knew? Have you recovered from it yet?

MVP Sports Channel

MVP Sports Channel

 

So, dudes, you may now be asking yourselves, “Is nothing sacred? Why can’t I just go to my draft party with the bros and not have to worry about some chick out-strategizing me by getting the stud RB I want? And for the love of all that is holy and sacred on a Sunday, two minutes before kickoff, why MUST my significant other be adding and dropping WRs and trolling for the…

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