I'm Going To Be A Millionaire!

I'm going to be rich. How do I know? It's simple. Everyday Publisher's Clearing House sends me an e-mail and tells me so. Today's latest says, "There will definitely be a major prize winner in the Memphis area." With only a million people, it's got to be me! But here's more exciting news. My prompt entry will also activate a chance for me to win a life-changing $10,000,000.00 SuperPrize from Giveaway No. 1400. 

Now wait a minute? Wasn't 1400 the prize they said I'd win last year? Surely they wouldn't write it if it weren't true. Plus, I've received those notes that say someone with the initials JL is a winner. Yep! No doubt about it; I'm going to win.

I can see it now. The Prize Patrol drives down my block and rings the bell sometime after I get home from work. We know the moment, I've removed that uncomfortable piece of ladies lingerie. After all, we must free those puppies. Anyway, the doorbell rings and the television cameras show me jumping up and down on NATIONAL TV. Wow! Uh, err, maybe I should put the bra back on.

Ignorance is Bliss

This week my fifth graders read the first chapter of "Number the Stars" by Lois Lowry and came across a scene where five year old Kirstie was not afraid of Nazi soldiers during World War II while the older girls, Annemarie and Ellen, were terrified. The reason a young child would not be afraid of something horrible is that ignorance is bliss.

Ironically, after school I found a terrifying email from my Rabbi that once again proves this saying. I'd been at work all day and hadn't heard the news about a bomb exploding in Jerusalem. I became aware of this situation through this part of an email:

It is with great anxiety for Israel and the world that we learned of the horrific act of terrorism that reared its ugy head today in Jerusalem, barely a week after the Fogel family tragedy in Itamar.  After several phone calls and emails to friends and family to hear their assurance that they were "okay" I could hear in their voices a hint of their frustration: that not only is peace elusive, but the dream of it is becoming more faint, more distant.  But we are not permitted to give up hope or to become complacent with a destructive status quo.  My daughter's name "reported in" to her family here and, like the Israelis around her, is going about her normal activities. 

Am I worried? Sure. But it's better to find out about this at the same time I found out that my daughter is okay because . . . ignorance is bliss. Or is it? My husband tells me not to worry about Judy; after all, her dorm room is a bomb shelter. Perhaps in my next life it would be fun to come back as a dumb blond or free spirited surfer dude with no worries about the world. Bring on the summer!

RIP: Apple Blossom

I once was the proud owner of a Liddle Kiddle doll named Apple Blossom. Her flower-covered green hair flowed over her two inch body as she populated the stores sometime around 1967--which means I must have been negative fifteen years old when I got my treasure. Not only was Apple the most beautiful doll I ever owned, but also, when locked inside her container, she carried a fresh perfume scent that stuck around well into my adulthood.

So at age -15, I made a decision. Apple Blossom was too special to be just any doll. I kept her perched in her bottle on top of my dresser. Sure, I played with her. She was the captured princess who couldn't escape her cage. Every so often, I'd open her, take a whiff, stroke her soft hair, and wrap her back in plastic. But I was sure to keep her in mint condition because I knew one day I'd have a daughter and I'd give her this special doll.

The years flew by and sure enough I became a mom. My daughter bubbled when I gave her that amazing doll. Then on that very same day, she lost it.