Archive for the ‘ Looking Good ’ Category

The Little Pink Dress

Tuesday, June 8th, 2010

“THE LITTLE PINK DRESS”

(Hanging In My Art Room Minding It’s Own Business.)

I’m having a family party at my house. My sister, sitting in a chair on the patio, leans over to me sitting on the chair next to her and says, “Venus, someone has to tell you. Never wear that dress again. Go look in the mirror at your butt.”

I look at Polly, agast.

“That dress ripples all up your butt. Go look. You’ll see.”

I run madly into the house and look in the Magic Mirror, the one who lies to me and always tells me I look 10-15 lbs lighter than I really do.

I turn around and look at my butt. The little pink patterned dress is riding high, but cute, I think.

I’m mystified as I return to the front porch where most of us are gathered, eating potluck and cake.

“”Ummmmmm,” Polly says. She nods her head at another sister. “Look at Barbara. Now that’s the kind of top you need to be wearing at our age.”

I look at Barbara. It’s a nice pale yellow top, but it’s tucked up under her breasts and flounces out and around over her stomach and hips down to her mid thighs. To me, it looks like a yellow boy scout tent. Barbara is a pretty girl and can wear anything, but I have always seen myself as a Looker with a tiny waist that I like to emphasize.

“These tight dresses,” Polly says as she looks at my middle, “show off the rolls around our waists.”

She draws back in her chair, narrows her eyes, looks at me and says, “Are you wearing a bra?”

I look down and imagine that my ‘huge’ breasts must be dragging low, placidly curled up on my belly ball stomach.

Another sister or sister in law backs Polly and her observations about me in this dress. Another woman chimes in to mention another fault of mine in this little pink stretchy dress and tsk tsk, I should have thought a bit more before I put it on.

Another woman from down the mountain adds that I usually dress like people dress in my little town, kind of like a hick.

Their comments are all meant to help me, they assure me, with sympathy in their tone, but I am kind of confounded and crushed. I seem to be ‘It’ today. All the Lady Chickens are picking on and pecking at me.

“Someone has to tell you,” Polly reiterates. “It’s a kindness.”

I sigh and hang my head.

Later, I corner my son-in-law Charles and my ex boyfriend Bill, in the kitchen.

“Do I look awful in this dress? ” I ask.

The two guys look surprised.

Charles says, “You look great! Remember, I told you earlier in the hall how hot you look, that you look even better than you did years ago.”

Bill seems puzzled and adds, “I think you look real good. Why?”

Why? Well my friends…here’s why I asked the men for their opinion of my dress.

It’s because women see other women differently then men see women. And, that is the truth. We women hold ourselves to high and impossible standards of beauty.

But..Most men honestly don’t seem to see our flaws.

Can you imagine? Yes. It’s true. Men by and large are very simple and sweet. They don’t notice our flopping thighs, our meandering butts or the flapping, dimpled fat on our arms. If they find us as a woman attractive, they find us attractive. If they don’t, well frankly, they don’t even see us.

A few days ago I went to a small store in town that I frequent a lot. It is run by a very religious couple with five kids. The father is around thirty five or forty and he is quite handsome.

As I was trotting up the steps to their store, he happened to come out on the stoop. He looked at me and obviously without thinking, shouted, “Hi, Hot Stuff!”

I almost swallowed my spit backwards. I’m still Hot Stuff??

Grinning all the way home I also laughed out loud. Sang along with the radio. Swung and shook my sweet little body on the car seat.

I am thinking of that man now and of my son-in-law and my ex-boyfriend and I am elated. Thank gosh men see us differently than we women have been trained see each other!

Men are visual and they are attracted to a woman visually, but obviously, they see what they want to see and I say ‘God Save The Queen’ and ‘Thank you God’ and ‘Pass the beans’. I love men’s simple acceptance of what physically is, and I love  their blind eye, and I am so relieved that I only need to look perfect around my lady friends.

But hey…just to cause trouble, I am gonna’ wear that little pink dress, no bra and a party hat to the next family gathering and we’ll see what kind of hell breaks out with the women.

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God In The House

“GOD IS IN THE HOUSE”

This is one of my ART MOJO PAINTINGS….where I put Energy into my art as I am painting it…to fill your house with Good Energy of whatever kind you ask for.  When you purchase paintings you email me the Mojo you want in them and why, and I write a special, extra Mojo on the back, just for you and ’slap’ it into the picture along with the others already there. To see all the art work or to purchase please see:    http://www.artmojos.com

THESE ARE ALL ORIGINAL PAINTINGS (not prints)

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Phone Sessions With Venus

“I have been to lots of readers, but you are the best, Venus. You are honest and tell the truth and give good advice. You also really do read minds, talk to dead people and move good energies in our favor. Just wanted you to know I appreciate you. Penny D.”

To see how I work, testimonials and my rates please go to: http://www.godisalwayshappy.com

(PS  You will notice I made myself look 25 with red hair in my painting. Oh well, an artist has free rein with their creativity, right? x Venus)

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*You may have also noticed that I have finally learned how to put photos on my blog! Yes, it’s taken me several days and I have worn myself out but I am so excited I feel like I am spinning with some kind of formerly unknown and under used brilliance. I must have had the technical type of brains all along, but where were they?

Just wait until I start putting photos up of my mother and siblings! Good thing they don’t read my blog.

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WINNER

Winner of  a 10 minute free phone session with me:   Stacie Prince This offer is valid through June 14th, 2010, after that it is null and void.

To have a chance to WIN, please sign up for this blog where it says ‘FEED’ and sign up on my website for the Newsletter. http://www.godisalwayshappy.com

I draw a name every week on my Tuesday ‘Dear Venus radio Show’ ( http://www.contacttalkradio.com)

and with every new Blog and whenever I send out an Email Newsletter

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Posted in Family, Looking Good, Mysteries in Life, Parties and Fun, Photos, Relationships, Wierd Stuff, Words from Venus | 8 Comments »

Blessings Of An Unusual Kind

Tuesday, April 6th, 2010

My mother, who is 87, has been talking lately about the tea kettles.

“The tea kettles are doing this, the tea kettles are doing that.”

It took me awhile to understand that she is talking about the recent American political group, The Tea Party! I had been thinking, ‘Why? Why are tea kettles out doing things?’

My mother and I are sitting on her deck, watching the cars go by on the road on the other side of her wide field. My mother smiles broadly and her white hair glistens in the sun. She’s wearing her little red, dog-hair decorated sweater over her blue, green and purple top with the coffee stains on the front, with hot pink sweat pants and high rider tennis shoes.

“You look good, Mom,” I say. ”I’m glad you stopped that cancer medicine. You don’t look terminal to me.”

This is the medicine that cost $4400.00 (!) a month and caused Mom’s nose to swell to the size of a small potato.

I had come over to visit her after she had been on the medicine for a few days. I kept looking at her face. Something wasn’t right, but what was it? She didn’t look like my Mother. I had studied her, carefully.

“I think your lipstick is wrong,” I said. “It’s going up over your top lip somehow and it seems odd.” (more…)

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Posted in Art and Beauty, Family, Looking Good, Photos, Relationships, Stories about Mother, Wierd Stuff, Words from Venus | 3 Comments »

The Goddess of Good Hair

Wednesday, August 27th, 2008

When I call to confirm the appointment with my hairdresser, she tells me her house has been foreclosed and sold at auction. She has to be out by Monday.

“And, I have all my feral cats and the wild skunks and opossums that I feed and my five indoor cats and my house is crammed with all my dead mother’s treasures and what am I going to do? My water has been shut off and I have to get out and I may have to move to Oklahoma the day after tomorrow!”

This is not good news for either of us.

My hairdresser has been losing her house for years, long before the current explosion of house disasters. She is not good with money. I am very sorry about her current disaster but I am not surprised.

She has trouble with money and with men but she is an artist of the highest magnitude and she is the only hairdresser I have ever had who does not cut my hair to make me look like a standard size poodle with a great ruff on it’s head.

My hairdresser is on the phone with me crying, and I am moaning right along with her. Because I have been at the coast, baby-sitting for fifteen days, it has been six weeks since I have had a cut and color.

If K. leaves the state, my beauty goes with her. She is The Goddess of Good Hair.

All of K.’s clients feel the same way. She has people who fly in every month from other states to have her do their hair. As it is, I give up a full day to her ministrations every four weeks.

My hair appointments are loose and go like this:

“Ring, ring. Hi K., Are we still on for today? No? You’re in the hospital?”

“Your cat is in the hospital?”

“The water pipe to your washer broke and your house is flooded?”

“The neighbor rammed his water truck into your pine tree and brought it down on your garage?”

With luck, after the ‘Ring, ring,” it’s “Oh, good! We’re still on! What time do you think? Noon? Two is better? Well, I’ll call before I drive down the mountain because you know how you are.”

Generally, the appointment actually starts about 3:30 or 4:00PM. Maybe. And from there it’s 3 1/2 to five 1/2 hours, depending…and a long drive home for me in the dark. But, hey, I look spectacular. I look beautiful and I do not look like a Standard Poodle who has had it’s head soaked in prune juice for a fortnight.

So, here I sit tonight, a number of weeks past my hair cut and color date and I will let your imagination decide how I may look. I have just called K., again, a week since our last frantic call and she says, ‘yes,’ she is still in town and ‘yes,’ she can see me, tomorrow.

Hurrah! Well, that’s another full day that I will give up (and thank God for it) and the day should be interesting.

Where is K. living, I wonder? She has told me she had no place to go. Is she moving to Oklahoma or have we, her clients, all been saved by the Big Bell in The Sky?
K. has told me that many of her clients have said she can stay with them. Maybe she has moved in with one or some of them? Maybe so as her clients are that desperate.

I’m feeling desperate, too.
Baby-sitting a two and five year old was the hardest physical and emotional labor I have done in many years. I am ready to get my hair done now and return to My Other Life.

One day, during that rough fifteen days, Lexi, the five year old says to me, ” I wish I had met you when you were young and beautiful, BaBa.”

I suck up a little air and say, “…Don’t you think I am beautiful, now?”

“No.”

Oh. “Why?”

Lexi says, “Because your arms and your face are all floppy.”

Lexi trots off and I am left to snivel and ruminate.

Later, I tap on her bedroom door, and she calls me in where she is playing with a massive doll house full of barbie dolls and furniture and plastic sea creatures.

“What do you mean, I’m ‘all floppy?’ I ask.
(I am ready to get kicked, again.)

“Well…you really are beautiful, Baba,” Lexi says with some reluctance, “but your skin is squishy.”

“Squishy?”

“Yes,” she says. “Here, look.” She jumps up from the floor and grabs my arm and squeezes. “See?”
“Now, feel my arm.”

She holds out her arm and lets me give it a squeeze.

“See? It’s not squishy.”

Never ask Lexi anything unless you want the truth.

I REALLY need my hairdresser.

The kids grandfather, Bumpa, who is Summer’s dad and my ex-husband, helped me out for a few days during the Great Baby Sitting Tournament.

Loch is very verbal. He talks all the time. He tells Bumpa and me that he is “a hard working man.” He loves his fire trucks and his skip loaders, track back hoes and diggers. He especially loves his dump trucks which he calls, and I swear this is is true, ‘Dumb Fucks.’
Bumpa can’t believe he says this and tries to teach him to say, ‘Dump-Trucks.’ It doesn’t take.

Later, after a meal, Bumpa pats his stomach, leans back in a chair and says, “I’m full.”
Loch looks at him and says, “You’re a fool?”

You can’t be too careful around these kids! They pick out your weak points!

I don’t know what this means, but after dinner one evening, Lexi wanders out to the back yard, where Bumpa and I are having a glass of wine and announces that, “Barbie has a penis.” Then, she ambles off to the slide.

Neither her grandfather or I question that announcement and we are left to wonder.

A week later, I’m now recovering very nicely from the long baby-sitting job and I tell Summer that I will never do it, ever again. She immediately books me for two weeks in October when Lexi has two weeks off from school.

What is the matter with me? Didn’t I just say, ‘no?’

Then, she tells me that Lexi has year around school, now and this means she will have 2 weeks off, four times a year and she will email me Lexi’s schedule.

“I can send her to camp, Mom, but she would rather be with you.”

I immediately email her Bumpa and tell him the plan and that he needs to help me. We both know that the Lexi at five years old won’t last, that soon enough Lexi will be older and embarrassed to be seen with us, at all.

Even now, when Summer is in Australia and I have to take Lexi to her first day of Kindergarten at her new school, she won’t hold my hand in front of her classmates and runs ahead of me on the playground.
I imagine that I am a floppy-skinned embarrassment, who’s also weeks past a hair cut and color. Realistically, and understandably, (as Lexi has told me) she is just mad that I am not her mother and she wants her mother to take her to her first day of school.

But, (and I’m whining out loud, now) I can hardly wait for tomorrow and my appointment. I need my hairdresser and I need her, now. It’s kind of a matter of emotional life and death, if you know what I mean……
Maybe…maybe I can even find an extra room in my house for The Goddess…

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SPECIAL FLOW DREAMING CLASS WITH SUMMER AND VENUS, SEPT 6th, 2008. The Flow with Summer and your Wish from Venus, is ‘open-ended.’ For love, prosperity, happiness, whatever your wish is. See the Class information at www.flowdreaming.com. Venus works on your personal wish for 3-4 days before the class and during the Flowdreaming Session.
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WINNER OF THE RANDOM DRAWING FOR A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS: *Sandra Phillips* Offer good through Aug. 29th, 2008. After that, null and void.

Posted in Family, Looking Good | 5 Comments »

Venus Swallows an Earwig

Monday, May 19th, 2008

This morning I swallowed an earwig.

Every-night, I put a glass bottle of water by my bed on the bedside table. When I get thirsty in the night, I drink from it. I don’t keep a cap on the bottle.

This morning I pop out of bed, notice a bit of water left in the bottle, and think, ‘might as well drink it.’ I toss the water down and oh my god! I’ve swallowed an earwig! I know immediately what it is and I can feel it lodged down inside my throat, on the right side, near my collar bone. In my mind I can ’see’ it’s long, narrow, shiny brown body with the two pinchers flung in front of it, and I can ‘feel’ it’s waving antenna.

“ArrrGH!” Without any conscious thought I immediately bend myself in half towards the floor and croak and choke, “Arrrgggh, agggh, ukukuk!”

The earwig drops out, splat! on that laminated wood floor.

What fantastic luck!

I sit down hard on my bed and then as I always do, I pull a card for my day ahead, from a deck of regular playing cards.

Arrrgh! I get the Death Card!

I try and remain jolly when I get the Death Card but so far, when this happens I always hear about or see a friend who is dying and this ‘bright’ news along with swallowing earwigs is not a good start to a day.

But, hey, it all works out! My sister Polly gives me two tickets to a Do Wop Concert for this evening, that she and her husband Doctor Ron have to give away because they decide to go to Italy, instead.

A Do Wop Concert is where a lot of Very Famous singers from the 1950’s and 60’s get together on stage and sing all their Very Famous old rock and roll songs.

I invite my ex-boyfriend Bill to come with me for the performance. We’re excited. We’re so excited that Bill drives (what is rapidly becoming my ‘old’) green Jaguar down the mountain at 85 and 90 miles an hour.

I scream, “What’s the matter with you?! Why are you driving so fast?”

But, he won’t slow down. Honestly, I don’t know what is the matter with this normally dead slow driver and there is that word, ‘dead’ again. And, as he races the car I am remembering the Death Card I pulled for this day.

I look at the man. Maybe he’s been revitalized by the coming Do Wop performance, remembering his darkly handsome, lost youth, or something? He isn’t saying, he’s just driving like he probably used to drive when he was a kid.

We get to the Civic Theatre an hour early. Now what?

Everybody else is there, too, milling around in the large courtyard.

“Oh, yes,” I say to Bill. “That’s how old folks are. They get early to everything.”

Bill looks around at the gray-haired, limping mob and says, “Looks like The Old Geezer Club, to me.”

We look at each other. We’re sure we look nothing like the Old Geezers.

The people who have gathered for the show are incredibly interesting. There’s a lot of old men in old duck-tail hair cuts. Well, I mean, those that have hair have the duck-tail, greasy hairstyle.

There’s lotsa’ lumpy flesh here, and lotsa’ blond ladies. And, canes and wheelchairs and people I probably knew in school that bear no resemblance to their Be-Bop-Do-Wop former selves.

At last, we move into the theatre and take our seats.

Bill likes his seat. We are way back on the aisle, by the doors and Bill can flick in and out of the hall whenever he wants and bring in wine and treats. Which he does. The show is underway and he immediately drops his glass of red wine onto his white chino pants. He then goes out and gets a thick brownie with masses of chocolate frosting. He eats it, then leans over and complains to me, “I don’t know what’s wrong. I can’t see much of the stage.”

I snatch his glasses off his nose and hold the lenses to the feeble light. Just as I suspected. They are loaded with gobs of fudge frosting.

Here are my thoughts about the concert.

You have all these old MoTown men in their 70’s, shuffling on stage, trying to do all the fancy kicks and leg and body drops and it ain’t workin.’ One man has to sit down on the bandstand for a few minutes and recover. The music and the words seem mushy and hard to distinguish. I’m feeling kind of bad for all of these Formally Famous Big Rock and Roll Stars in their hot red or bright lemon velour suits that look like pajamas.

And then I realize, ‘Oh. That’s it! That’s the Death Card for the day. It’s The Old Geezer Show!’

I’m relieved. We all have to go on this eventual final field trip, but at least nobody I know is doing it right now, right today. We’ve all got to go, but, hey, this is wonderful…..we’re all sitting here singing our way to The Promised Land.

Maybe all of us Old Geezers can gather together and sing our way into heaven. What do you think? A bit of shuffle, a little MoTown, some Rock and Roll…and we’re in.

……… “Good Night Sweetheart. It’s Time To Go….Good Night Sweetheart, Good Night.”

I hope I get a fun playing card tomorrow.
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WINNER OF A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS: Lorry Chadwick. Offer valid through May 20,2008. Void after that date. ***Know immediately if your name is chosen. Sign up for the blog feed to your right.**

Posted in Looking Good, Lovelife, Screaming Hysterics, Wierd Stuff | 11 Comments »