Mercury the wise communicator—and universal trickster—turns retrograde at 19 01’ Virgo, in the sign of the Virgin, sending communications, travel, appointments, mail and the www into a general snarlup!  From Astrology on the Web.

This is Mercury. Isn’t he cute? Look like a bed bug with horns.

Now you tell me.

I only wish I had this info before Mercury went into its own galactic version of PMS.  But that would have made life too easy. I could have ignored the mounting fear that the oppressive heat and humidity this summer were robbing me of highly functioning brain cells when it came to minor technological adventures. Happy to report that the brain is just fine – to a point. Mercury just kicked my ass and how does one retaliate?

If I had known that some far away planet was about to search and destroy my life as I knew it, I could have just relaxed and gone with the flow.  It wasn’t my mess ups. Ladies and gentlemen, our “Let me mess you up big time” host for 3 weeks is that playful charlatan, Mercury.  How do you sleep at night?

I don’t know when the moon is in the seventh house or when Jupiter aligns with Mars so why would I care about Mercury getting jiggy and retrograding?  What do I know about astrology?  I am a Gemini.  My other selves are happy to meet you all.  When asked in the past what my sign was I would say, “slippery when wet” until I was asked to spend some quality time in back seat of some moron’s car.  Ah, I can hear my mother saying right about now, “She always made us so proud.”

It all started out rather innocently. I got out of bed, had a cup of decaf and turned on the computer. I was looking to design a new blog site. I had done it before. I went to add information and it wouldn’t take it. I politely put in the info and some gnarly hand threw it back at me – this won’t work at all. Please try later. Maybe in 2127. WTH.

So that was the beginning. One of my blog sites suffered a fatal error. I don’t think I cried as much as I did when the Beatles broke up. I have no ability to fix this stuff. But I do have a darling nephew who did and I just want to say a big thank you to WordPress for not hearing my pleas. Probably sitting around drinking with Mercury, were you?

Then the clothes dryer would only dry with no heat. It took me 3 attempts to dry the clothes before I realized that something was off. My clothes were not fiber dense. Last rites were given and a new one was purchased.  I love keeping the economy going.

The coffeemaker and microwave are now buried in our backyard.

Then Microsoft Outlook wouldn’t work. No emails going out and none coming in. For 4 days.  Do you know how many OTC stress pills I took? My 7 figure book deal if you respond within 48 hours email could have been trapped in email limbo. Alas, it wasn’t. It probably was deleted by Mercury.

My cat peed on our love seat because mercury is in retrograde? I am sticking with that because as of September 12^th Mercury halts and begins his return to direct motion through the zodiac as per Astrology on the Web. Don’t let the door kick you on your way out.

I am over the moon with this news because I won’t have to incur cat therapy bills. I might need therapy but I still have health insurance. Going to mess with that Mercury?

I hear that Mercury in retrograde will be back and when that happens, I will move to one of the most violent neighborhoods I can find. I think being shot at will be a lot better than living through this again.

© 2010, Coach on the Edge ™

elizabeth’s Creativity Coach site is: Coaching for the Creative Soul

Follow elizabeth on Twitter at: EdgyCoach or elizabethcoach

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elizabeth: “I also realized this season that while I love discovering, supporting and nurturing young talent, it was hard for me to judge  people and sometimes hurt their feelings.” Now this last part sounds like me (when the evil twin is napping), but Ellen DeGeneres announced the other day that she is no longer going to be a judge on American Idol. Some people speculate that she got booted out. I believe she just had had it with making ratings by playing it cruel.

Laurie:  Surely Ms. DeGeneres didn’t think she was joining a youth glee club.  Her job as an American Idol judge is to crush dreams, pop unrealistic bubbles, discourage useless efforts, and if at all possible, do it as cruelly as possible.  Anybody who doesn’t know that has been living in a cave without cable.

elizabeth: Don’t get me wrong, some of the contestants were bloody awful. Their parents should be slapped for mixing their genes together, but no one deserves to be slammed in front of millions of people. Now this only goes for American Idol hopefuls. Certain politicians, TV and Radio hosts and the cast from the Jersey Shore do have it coming to them. What really upsets me about the “Shore Whores” group is that some of them are from the area I live in. Gives me another reason to get off this island! And just for the record, if I sounded like any of them, I would volunteer to have my tongue removed.

Laurie:  I stopped watching Ellen (but would start again if she had Coaches on the Edge as her guests) when I turned on the television one day and she was hysterically crying.  Like someone had swooped in and massacred her family and made her watch.  And then I find that the flowing tears were about a dog that was adopted by one family and had to be given to another.  Sad for one family I’m sure.  Worthy of five minutes of television crying time?  Not mine.  Touching but maybe a bit over the top.

elizabeth: So kudos to Ellen and thanks for setting an example about what how we should treat each other. The bottom line is that we need to be able to get up in the morning and face ourselves without a lot of regret.

And Ellen, if you are as nice as I think you are, Coaches on the Edge would be great guests for your new fall season. Just don’t tell Oprah. She is starting to see the wisdom in having us on the cover of O. We won’t stop you if you want to put a good word in for us.

And not to worry. There is a New York State law that prohibits me from singing within 500 yards of anything with a pulse. Sadly, Laurie has to cross state lines or face arrest.

Laurie:  Luckily I still have a pulse so I’m loving the sounds of silence.

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Coaching for the Creative Soul

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Laurie:  My most expensive-to-date jeans came with a written warning.  Do they lift my butt?  You bet.  Do they tuck in my tummy?  Yep.  Can I breathe?  Yes.  Notice my priorities here – butt, tummy, oxygen.  So what was the warning?  The brand (I’m not advertising free for them after the price I paid) “cannot be held responsible for any positive consequence that may arise due to your fabulous appearance when wearing our jeans.”  Cute and it worked.  And it got me thinking that more clothes should come with warnings.

elizabeth: I am boycotting this blog until you tell me what these jeans are. Jeans that can change the world? I’d like to see Glen Beck in them. Maybe it would improve his fat ass attitude.

Laurie:  How about “Warning:  Do not attempt to wear this garment unless you possess a full-length mirror.”  Or “Warning:  These shoes are going to make your legs look fabulous; just don’t try to walk in them.”  And “Warning:  You may look great from the front.  Please have consideration of those viewing you from the back.”  Or “Warning:  This same dress did wonders for Halle Berry’s figure.  Please remember you are not her.”

But then on second thought, these warnings may hamper one of my favorite summertime activities – Watching the Outdoor Freak Show Costumes Go By.

elizabeth:  I will admit that I have put on a few pounds. But I sit here at the computer trying to be clever and brilliant, trying to be the best coach I can be and yet I was totally oblivious for months to the fact that parts of my body need a little more attention.  So I am waiting full a line of clothing to be made entirely of Spanx. I just need a little Spanx to get me through the tough months. But, if their tagline goes something like this, “your butt is responsible for global warming,” I think I just might go to seed instead.

If you think people dressing differently is a freak show than maybe a little town down, I don’t know….down south with a population of 156 including their hound dogs might work better for you. Viva the imagination of the people of New York!

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Coaching for the Creative Soul

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elizabeth: I don’t want anyone to think that I harbor any ill will towards the famers in this country or in the world for that matter. It’s just   that alfalfa sprouts have never done anything to soothe a bitchy mood. And beets do not lead the pack when your man or woman has done you wrong. The only thing beets are good for is staining your good white shirt.  Do thoughts of baby organic carrots with a side of humus come to mind as a way to forget that the blouse cost a week’s salary? And if you are spending a week’s salary on a blouse – please adopt me. I won’t eat much.

Laurie:  So you’re not buying the health and nutrition theory that eating good food makes you feel good?  OK, well I’m the first one to tout the benefits of mashed potatoes and macaroni & cheese all in the same meal.  Maybe some biscuits on the side.  My gluten-intolerant friends have passed out by now.

elizabeth:  Headaches – a lot more people are getting brain thumpers because the humidity is so bloody high this summer. On days like this when I can’t see a damn thing because my eyebrows are sweating into my eyes, I sit myself down and dig into a enormous bowl of romaine lettuce. And then I give it to neighborhood dogs so they can bury it. What works for a headache?  A big plate of a homemade pie with a chunk of cheddar cheese on it (so that is compliments the red wine you are downing at a great neck pace), chocolate sauce melting into the crust and enough whipped cream to bathe in. I am feeling better already.

Laurie:  I’m not sure about the cheddar cheese but is there any headache better than an ice-cream headache?  Worth every shooting brain pain that enters your head.  It’s so good that, even when you know it’s coming, you still keep shoveling in the frozen delight until you reach your pain threshold.  Then you wait until it subsides, and do it all over again.  How cool is that?

elizabeth:  Hung Over – Okay, so maybe a little too much wine with the pie has left you with a lawn of fuzz growing inside your mouth.  Your mother must be so proud.   So can a bowl of Kasha cereal with a double handful of raisins do anything to make you feel more human? Please. On mornings like this only half of a red velvet cake along with a side of well done home fries and bacon can make you feel the life force pulsing through your veins again. An apple with yogurt would only go bad and then join up with a gang. It could get ugly.

Laurie:  I’m not much of an alcohol consumer but I have been know to down enough Diet Pepsis in one day to caffeine-accelerate my computer without turning it on.

elizabeth:  Feeling out of Sorts  – Now this is when you take your mood out on yourself or anyone who walks by you. You know who you are. Sometimes we don’t know why we are so down, but a chopped salad certainly won’t help – look at it.  It’s been chopped to pieces by an angry chef.  You wanna eat that? No amount of blue cheese will drown out the cries of the vegetables. But a dozen deep fried donuts with a half a gallon of double fudge brownie ice cream sandwiched between two pepperoni pizzas would be just what the mood doctor ordered. I like this modern women’s repast because afterwards I take comfort in knowing that I have not stuck a fork in anyone to see if they are done.

Laurie:  I’m done!

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Coaching for the Creative Soul

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Laurie:  Someone just slipped a three-page Smoke-Free Household Survey under my door.  Seems like my building is going smoke free.  No easy endeavor with 1600+ apartments in the complex, but they are going to give it a try anyway.  By July 22^nd we are all supposed to cough up (yeah, I had to do it) information about ourselves and our family members and their smoking habits.  Declare your inability to break your filthy, disgusting, health-destroying addiction to cigarettes, and you will be benevolently grandfathered in (as a loser who can’t kick the habit I guess).  But if you’re just moving in, forget about it.  Not only can’t you as an individual smoke, but you may as well send “See ya!” cards to your smoking friends.  They won’t even be allowed to light up on the balconies.  I feel footprints all over my rights.

elizabeth: Don’t know how I feel about this. It does smack of Big Brother peeking into people’s apartments and telling them what to do or not do.  I was a smoker for a long time, and it was so hard to stop and then you start over again and you feel guilt ridden and then you try to stop again. And so on and so on. I finally gave it up about six years ago at a hypnosis session in a hotel with about 200 people. Men had to wear a metal reinforced cup until my bitchiness subsided a bit. About a week ago.

But I loved to smoke. It was an extension of my hand and it was always good to wave it around when making a point (or threatening someone) or you could grab one and think about what you wanted to say or do. I don’t care what anyone says – it did calm me down during some tense situations. But I made the decision to stop. Because I wasn’t going to let some fat cats who own tobacco farms take away my life. When I go, I want to decide how – in the afterglow with some young stud muffin works for me. Okay one with bad eyesight because I would like to be really old. Not older than graveyard dirt, but close.

Laurie:  I’m not in favor of smoking.  I’m thrilled that I finally kicked the habit (no more treks Down-South and to Indian reservations) and couldn’t afford to fall off the wagon if I wanted to.  Cigarettes in New York have tipped a whopping $10 a pack I believe.  But this further emphasizes my concern.  Cigarettes are still on sale and available in every State of the Union.  So if they are that bad for my health, will slay my friends and family with their second-hand smoke in one fell swoop, and are linked to every disease known to humankind, why can I still pick up a pack at my local Korean deli?  In a city where gas fumes from taxis and busses rule the congested roads, to regulate smoking in my apartment seems a bit silly.  To attempt to regulate my health seems a bit illegal.  Granted, the insurance companies do it all the time but my apartment building?  Nonetheless, I will say a little prayer of gratitude that I no longer smoke, meet my smoking friends at nonsmoke-free buildings, and avoid the wrath of the Smoke Detection Police when they show up at my door.  And I guess I’ll try to convince myself that this is “for my own good,” just like my mother used to tell me when I wasn’t allowed to do something.  I never believed her.

elizabeth: So as much as I know that smoking is a killer looking for its next victim, I still feel we can’t tell people what to do. I can really see them trying to get kids to not start, and if you are going to try to restrict this self destructive behavior – give people a guaranteed way to stop and make it reasonable so people can afford it.  I think $11 a pack might make some people stop so that they don’t end up homeless.  But telling people they can’t get an apartment because they smoke – what’s next? Twinkies addicts, soda sippers and liverwurst lovers (talk about something needing to be banned) being thrown out into the streets?

I had a neighbor on 89^th Street in Manhattan who left me notes about my smoking. This was from a woman who had really loud sex a lot of the time. So maybe she didn’t smoke after sex, but after listening to her escapades, having a cigarette seemed like the polite thing to do. As opposed to me going out and picking up a male hooker for myself.

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Coaching for the Creative Soul

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elizabeth: Last week I got a Facebook notice to “like” a page a friend had set up.  I clicked on the link to say I “like it” and I saw this face and  name in her friends group that transported me back to when I was in my 20s and living in San Francisco. My boyfriend at the time had a brother who was married to that red-headed woman I will call Ms. X (a fake name to protect me). I looked at her picture and thought about the different journeys we went on after we both broke up with the brothers. We did live a few block from each other in Manhattan. But we rarely saw each other because I thought she was living the more glamorous life. And I was entering my sullen-poetess-and-stand-up-comic phase. And dating guys whose faces I could never pick out of a crowd.  I think that had to do with dimly-lit bars and becoming dim-witted after a half dozen Southern Comforts. See, Laurie, I did embrace some southern things.

Laurie:  I embraced lots of southern things too, most of them men – well, boys almost about to become men.

elizabeth:  I think I would like to remember my long haired-boyfriend and me as a couple of crazy kids living in a nine-room flat with a couple of flat mates who liked to stroll around naked.  I couldn’t do that but I encouraged and supported it. And I am comfortable knowing that the time spent in San Francisco still feels unspoiled and innocent. So it needs to stay back there. I don’t think it could survive today.

Laurie:  That’s so sweet.  You want your teen years to remain innocent.  Man, I am glad I escaped mine alive.  As a lover of living on the edge, I look back and thank the Universe that I am still around to shake my head wonder “What the hell was I thinking?”

elizabeth: Good old Facebook (hey, Twitter, you’re not looking too good right now) showed up again this weekend with another flashback. A friend of over 30 years emailed me to tell me that she saw a mutual “party our butts off” friend over the weekend. Turns out it was for their high school reunion. Her class had what I foolishly considered the cream of the crop when it came to sweet talking, reefer happy hippie boys. But most of those young men I knew became disillusioned with life early on and that lead me to run away to the west coast. I didn’t want to be left behind where the best that I could ever hope to be was when I was 19.

And so far it is working because I still have all my facilities (regardless of what Laurie might say). And a place where long haired boys can rest and know that I rarely think of them as bloated men with three stands of hair who still think that The Beatles will reunite for one last tour.

Laurie:  I know what you mean, girlfriend.  As a birthday present, I implored my husband to take me to a Neil Diamond concert.  And I kept noticing that all the people there were “middle-aged.”  I wondered what on earth these “old fogies” were doing at Madison Square Garden on the same night as me, and suddenly I realized that some of them were probably my age.  I was thoroughly bummed for a couple of songs, but I eventually took solace in the fact that the young people knew all the words.  I pretended I was a part of their group and let the old folks do their thing.  Totally delusional and not a drug in sight.

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Coaching for the Creative Soul

Please visit our new site at Coaches on the Edge

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elizabeth: Every once in a while I go on the Internet and look at pictures of rock stars that I dreamt about sleeping with. Or at least getting my picture taken with them so I could make up some smoldering stories about some tawdry nights I spent with them. Good Catholic girl  lying through her teeth shit.  I was a kid with an imagination that could rival Steven Spielberg, George Lucas and James Cameron.     Somehow I don’t think we shared the same fantasies. I couldn’t have taken the competition.

Laurie: Lord, get the wheelchairs and walkers out.  We’re headed down Memory Lane.

elizabeth: The first one that always comes to mind is Neil Young of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.  I went as far as dating guys that looked like him just so I could kinda get the feeling what it would feel like. Well, it felt like when I wasn’t looking they were hitting on anyone with a pulse. So I stayed with my fantasies. I wanted Neil Young to show up at my parents’ door and take me on tour. I wanted to be his muse. I wanted him to come to me after writing the anti-war song “Ohio” so we could have taken to the road in the name of bringing about world peace.  But I feel a little better by seeing what time has done to him. He now sports eyebrows that are attempting to cover his whole head.

Laurie: I don’t know how many times I’ll have to remind you to make room for Elvis but I’m willing to do it in the name of unrequited love.  Amidst my oh-so-cool purple room, pictures of Elvis plastered the walls lying in wait for the day when he would come a’knocking on my door and take me away from my small town.  My guy was a little heavier when he left the earth but he could still get pulses racing and fantasies flowing.

elizabeth: Rod Stewart was so hot and I felt dizzy watching him sing and strut his bad self across the stage.  He asked if we thought he was sexy. What do you think? What do I think now? I think he looks like a woman down the block from us who    weeds in her underwear and cuts her lawn with a pair of scissors.

Laurie: Unlike you, I was a true blue girl with eyes and heart for nobody but The King.  No room for Rod Stewart, the British Invasion, or stars who copied off of my guy.  I was waiting for Elvis, at least until some 10-year-old guy named Phil came along.

elizabeth: I would like to propose a law that no rock star should ever end up looking like my paternal grandmother who used to push out her top teeth and make cat sounds. If your face is starting to look like a Google earth shot of the streets of Manhattan, don’t put it out on the Internet. I’d like to hold unto my young girl fantasies.

Laurie: Damn reality!  It’s always getting in the way of fantasies.  But that’s what drugs and plastic surgeries are for.

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Branching Out Life Coaching

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Laurie:  I recently had the opportunity to see Nora and Delia Ephron’s Love, Loss, and What I Wore, a delightful play based on the book by Ilene Beckerman about various outfits that marked momentous events in her life.  Hysterically funny and poignant, which means  that chances are it ticked a few memories of my own.  I can easily recall all my wedding dresses, each a little more progressively casual as the years and marriages passed by.  But I suspect that the real memories live in the clothes that house my own personal secrets.  My sister swears that I used to wear knee socks which were a source of mortification for her and ridicule for her “cool” seven-year-younger friends.  I can honestly say that I don’t remember knee socks, but I hope it’s true because sister mortification is always gratifying.

elizabeth:  I don’t think we would have been friends when we were kids. I think back then clothes made the group that kids hung out with. Knees socks would not have gone with thrift store dresses from the 40s, crocheted mini dresses (that horrified our mothers and pleased us to no end) and ripped jeans with peace signs all over them. I still have a lot of my vintage clothes but not the body that used to prance around in them – usually without a bra. I have a pair of jean shorts that I proudly spent hours putting on silver studs, rainbow patches, flowers and decorative trim and of course, a peace sign that rested on my butt. When I look at them, I remember the hope I felt that we could change the world. Our clothes made political statements. And made some long haired boys a little nervous.

Laurie:  I remember in Louisville, KY, a pair of Bass Weejun loafers was the exclusive ticket I needed to get into the Rah-Rah group.  And it wasn’t enough that I finally convinced my mother that my life would end without them.  Serious work followed.  If the toes of my Bass Wejuns didn’t turn up, I may as well be wearing rubber flip flops.  To this day, I walk with my toes pointed to the sky.  My first leather coat was mustard colored and too cool for school.  A huge beach cover-up with a brightly colored parrot marks my year of wild abandon when I gave up a well-paying job and took off for St. Thomas.  I still wear it to this day.  Other clothing was too painful to keep.  All of the clothes I took to India when I went to take care of my terminally-ill husband had to be destroyed when I returned to the States alone.  Yes, the Ephrons definitely hit a nerve with clothing memories.  I wonder if men entertain memories of their first jock strap?

elizabeth: After my darling friend David died, I went through the stuff he had left in our attic. I found the black cardigan that he wore, and when he slicked his hair back, he took on the look of the designer Halston. Very minimal. Very chic and cool. His grey leather bomber jacket still hangs in the closet upstairs. We walked all over Manhattan in the 1980,s and that jacket kept him warm. I just wish the dress he wore as his “reel mother” Joan Crawford one Halloween was hanging upstairs. I think I could fit into it.

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Branching Out Life Coaching

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Laurie: I can’t believe I’m doing this but I have an appointment to visit my local Verizon store on Sunday.  I held out as long as I could but I can no longer justify not having a phone that texts and holds all my sacred email.  The one I currently have does have a feature that takes pictures.   I have never once used it (unless you count when I push the button by accident getting it out of my purse – luckily Vera Bradley has beautiful inside linings).   The keypad is so old, I can’t even see the letters to text.  So off to the store I go.  May the phone angels be with me.

elizabeth: You know, if life was less complicated, if I didn’t work seven days a week (my fault, I know, but getting a book proposal out does cut into one’s eating and sleeping hours) and if it wasn’t so hard to wrap my brain around all the freaking instructions, then maybe, just maybe, I would have the time to think about how damn important I am that people must be able to get in touch with me at a moment’s notice. I don’t think that any of us are that important. Well, maybe me but I think I am staying with my “I want to be alone some of the time” attitude.

Laurie: Now the tough decisions begin.  Do I want a Blackberry?  Maybe a Storm, maybe not.   I mention Droid and all my phone-savvy friends sigh.  Hello, it’s a phone, not a soul mate.  I’ve been advised to go and play with the phones to see which one speaks to my heart.  A play date with a phone?  What happened to making a call – another essential feature of life I attempt to avoid when I’m out on the street?  No, now a mere phone must meet my esthetic, cosmetic and spiritual needs while it makes a call.

elizabeth: Have you tried eHarmony.com or Match.com?

Laurie: I am making the following technology promises right now, regardless of how well my play date goes:

I will not be found looking at my phone when my dinner date returns from a bathroom trip.  I won’t check my email during intermissions at the theatre.  I will not crash into people on the street as I text that urgent reply that can’t wait until I get home.  I will not walk into oncoming traffic while I’m reading my email.  I will never ever download a musical arrangement of any kind.  I will only take pictures that can later be used in criminal cases as evidence.  And I will Not Not Not buy my phone a dress (case), consider it a wardrobe accessory, or give it a name.  I hope those phone angels are listening.

elizabeth: I fear that within a week you will be doing all of that, and maybe you will get one of those snappy Bluetooths to wear and annoy mankind as you walk down the street. Let me know when you go shopping for a phone dress.  Maybe you and your “Insert your cute as a kitten phone name here” phone can get matching outfits. I will take out my phone and click away, and when you get the ransom note, just make out the check to moi.

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Branching Out Life Coaching

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Laurie: I just heard that there are plans to build a mosque two blocks from where the World Trade Center used to be.  Let the protests begin!  Two city blocks from where over 3000 people lost their lives?  How inconsiderate, how in your face, how ridiculous!  Yes, the    people who flew the planes on 9/11 were Muslim (and believe me, if I happen to be flying on any particular day, I am all for racial profiling.  I’ll take my chances against 80-year-old nuns, airport security; you just check out the young Middle Eastern guys) but I don’t think they were a representative group for the religion.  If I’m wrong, let me live in ignorance please.  But let’s say they were.  Wouldn’t it be better to have them within camera range of the original site of the offense?  Because if that structure is ever completed (and that is where the outrage should begin), you can bet your bippy that security will be over-the-top tight.  And it may even give pause to those who would plan to destroy the subway system that runs beneath the mosque.  If these radicals go berserk over cartoons that feature Allah, they sure as hell aren’t going to blow up his house.

elizabeth: Don’t you get a little crazed when all women are dumped into one category? And it usually is in insulting. What about southerners? Well, you won’t get an argument from me. J But I am so sick and tired of people thinking if we put them all in jail or just go and kill them all then we will be safe. There would be no one left on the planet. There is not one nationality or religion that can say throw stones at my glass houses. Stop me before I use another proverb. In1989 I was interrogated at Heathrow Airport twice (while trying to board a plane to fly home) and my suitcases were gone through and you know why – I looked like someone else. It was very intimidating and I am one of the nicest people I know. So if we are going to keep us safe from terrorists then profile everyone. Thought only men were the problem? Out popped female suicide bombers. Everybody and their bippy should be profiled. We all have the potential to cause mass destruction. So get in line.

And the mosque a few blocks from the World Trade Center – if they can get the masque up in less than 10 years then maybe they can help the committee to get the new towers up. God fearing (or should it be God loving) people do not blow people out of the sky.

Laurie: And along the same lines, famed author Joe McGinniss has just purchased a new homestead in Wasilla, Alaska.  Right next door to Sarah Palin.  Now McGinniss has been known to write a few critical articles about the ex-Governor – obviously a man of wisdom and good judgment.  And Ms. Palin is whining (once again) about the injustice of it all.  You just don’t get it, Sarah.  You wanna be a star without the notoriety, kind of like you wanted to be a governor without completing the job.  You can’t continue to say stupid things like “Drill, baby, drill” and “Don’t retreat, reload” and “I can see Russian from my house” and expect people to leave you alone.  There’s more to celebrity than winking, reading from your hand, and quitting.  Welcome to America, the place you say you want to reclaim, where people have the right to live wherever they want.  Well, maybe not in Texas where they are busy rewriting history, but Alaskans and New Yorkers may as well begin practicing their cake-baking skills so they can welcome their new neighbors.

elizabeth: Sarah Palin in boring the crap out of me. Sarah – here’s the deal:

you have a home to go home to, you can put food on your table (not sure if shooting innocent animals from a copter qualifies as shopping at the Pig and Whistle), you can shop at Good Will or Rodeo Drive and you can drive your daughter to CVS to pick up her birth control pills. I guess what I want to say is – you are living the American Dream. You even got your body back after having your last child. So what if some famous author moves next door to you. He’s not a pedophile, right?  You want to move to another neighborhood and have to worry about that? Get over yourself. And stop the winking. It causes wrinkles.

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Branching Out Life Coaching

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