tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89450221095304292042024-03-14T02:57:04.912-04:00Brooklyn BelleJust some musings from Laura, aka Brooklyn Belle, aka Lady Lipstick, aka Goddess of Pasta...Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-23911228316108385112012-12-05T09:31:00.000-05:002012-12-05T09:31:01.099-05:00LIFE IS GOOD!!No, really...it is...<br />
<br />
Sometimes, I find myself scared to death of missing all the good stuff. I wander around, feeling sorry for myself, hoping (seemingly against hope) that I'll see that light at the end of the tunnel.<br />
<br />
Well, I see it...I'm standing in it.<br />
<br />
Mom got great news from her most recent blood results. The debt I've been chipping away at for 6+ years has been cracked for good. My daughter is doing so well in school. Christmas shopping has been started and I'm actually having fun looking for the right prezzies for my loved ones.<br />
<br />
Hope. Friendship. Love.<br />
<br />
The greatest gifts. They beat receiving fuzzy slippers or a magazine subscription any day!!<br />
<br />
<br />Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-30103210217850292982012-10-09T11:39:00.000-04:002012-12-05T09:23:10.016-05:00One of Those Weird Periods of My LfeI've been reading the blog posts of friends and it seems we're all weary, yet on the cusp of something fabulous.<br />
<br />
Life here is finding its groove again. School has settled into its routine, work is steadily crazy instead of manically so. All the extra-curriculurs are in full-swing, but they're not annoying yet. The weather is changing and it seems more glorious than in years past.<br />
<br />
I find myself wondering why things happen the way they do. I'm wondering about this A LOT lately. I have words that were left unsaid, I have emotions I'm afraid to feel. I have discovering a well of faith inside me that I didn't know I had.<br />
<br />
Yet, I'm so tired. And skeptical. And numb.And I hate feeling those things.I break through them when I'm conscious of it but I'm not conscious of it all that often anymore.<br />
<br />
The Kid and I went apple picking this past weekend. Although we had fun and didn't even mind that it was raining, the car ride was the best part. We laughed and talked and renewed our bond. I almost pity Ex because his bond with The Kid is irrevocably broken. He's going to miss having The Kid's adoration. <br />
<br />
I was just getting around to feeling sorry for myself here at my desk. My co-worker is out on vacation and in addition to the 2 full-time jobs I'm doing right now, I'm covering for her too. I'm swamped all the time and I hate it. It seems that all tasks are only barely done when the next emergency comes down the pike. And then...a patient presents with an emergency situation. Having patients in pain come down the hall past my desk always give me the perspective I need. I wish they didn't have to feel pain in order for me to learn the lesson. Maybe they'd feel pain whether I learned my lesson or not. Perhaps the lesson is all about timing.<br />
<br />
As I put one foot in front of the other, I wonder when things will be easier for me. Or maybe this is the easy part. I hate not knowing.<br />
<br />
Peace, that's all I want. I want to know that I'm doing the right thing. I want to not get headaches worrying about things. I want to know what it's like to be care-free, even if it's just for a little while.<br />
<br />
I know something fabulous is right around the corner for me. Will it be a complete remission diagnosis for my mom? Or could it be that I'll be debt-free soon? Or will I finally be recognized for my work? Or will it be that I'll be able to finish thinking/speaking a complete thought before I'm interrupted?<br />
<br />
Who knows...but I'm ready for the next thing. It's not that I don't want to learn my lessons; I just want to feel joy again...Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-54864620639376172192012-10-09T09:58:00.001-04:002012-10-09T09:58:27.799-04:00Wondering What The Lesson Is In All Of This<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
</w:Compatibility>
<w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, the last few weeks and months have been a whirlwind of
emotions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Work is, in a word, complete chaos. The state slashed its
budget several months ago and lay-offs were looming. The administrative coordinator
of the unit in which I work was on the chopping block and she knew it. Like any
hipster/networker/Gen X-Y’er, she began looking for work immediately. And she
found a new job pretty quickly. So guess who gets her job. Guess who still has
the other job too. And guess who gets to do 2 full-time jobs without a raise.
Yeah, that would be me…sucker!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Ex is out on disability. Permanently. I know he’s sick
and I wouldn’t want to be that sick for all the tea in China, but man,
it pisses me off. This scenario could have been prevented…or at least
postponed. He went unmedicated for 7 years, he drank like a fish and smoked
like a chimney…even after 2 neurologists told him that drinking excessively (Ex
can’t have 1 or 2 drinks; he has an extensive history of drinking excessively)
and smoking would exacerbate the symptoms of his neurological disorder. He only
has himself to blame.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the real kick in the ass is that Mom was diagnosed with
cancer. She was so weak from torn abdominal muscles, but they were the catalyst
to get her to the doctor and the ER. She’s already started treatments and she’s
already felt some of the side effects. I’ve sat and chatted with her like I
haven’t done so in years. Being faced with her mortality is shocking us all
into submission. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My friend, R, just had MAJOR oral surgery. My friend, D, is
marking a year since her mother passed from cancer. My friend, S, is having
marital turmoil. My friend, M, is dealing with financial discomfort. And my
child, my sweet sensitive loving old soul of a child, struggles with wanting to
love her father and needing to protect herself from his mayhem.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It just seems that everyone I know is bearing their private
troubles very publicly. The stars and planets seem to be all out of alignment.
I’m crying over the littlest things but taking Communion at Mass and talking to
God helps like it never has before.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I was in the midst of divorce proceedings and the
visitation court battle, I learned to stop asking the rhetorical question of
why, but to figure out the lesson in all of my challenges for myself.
Sometimes, I’m more successful than others. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wonder why good people are being stricken with cancer. I
wonder when bad things will happen to bad people instead of to good people. I
wonder why prayer sometimes works more than medicine. I wonder why Ex can’t
realize that the mess he’s made of his relationship with his child will
probably never be repaired.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I just want to learn from all that happening around me, but
I’m too busy crying and numbing myself to the emotional pain. </div>
Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-19494980166413261812012-04-16T14:22:00.000-04:002012-04-16T14:22:42.202-04:00Did you ever wonder if you're not meant to fit in?I love my family and I know they love me, but I'm the black sheep on both my mom's and my dad's side.<br />
<br />
Of the gang from the old neighborhood, there's only one other single mom, and she's a retired police officer (in NYC, you can retire with a 50% pension after 20 years) so I'm the only single mom who works full-time.<br />
<br />
My neighborhood is VERY Catholic, and while my faith is unwavering, my belief in Catholicism isn't as strong.<br />
<br />
I like to eat meat, I LOVE gluten and I don't believe buying organic food is better.<br />
<br />
<br />
I never felt the need to drive a flashy car, or wear designer brand clothing (although I do loves me some vintage Coach purses), or eat in the fanciest restaurants.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I just feel like I'm somewhere out in space, somewhat untethered.<br />
<br />
Am I the only one who feels this way?Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-54186923446008710902012-01-09T13:23:00.000-05:002012-01-09T13:23:13.856-05:00Well, its January 9th......I guess it's time to write the year-end/happy New Year post, right?<br />
<br />
As I reflect on 2011, I can't help but smile. It was a pivotal year, it was an exhausting year...but it was a wonderful year.<br />
<br />
The Ya Ya's came to town in April and I'm still not sure NY has recovered. 3 from Manchester, England, 3 from Atlanta, 1 from Virginia and one from Montana. What a wild, loving, diverse gang of girls! They all feed my soul in one way or another.Montana Ya Ya came earlier and stayed later than the others and she made the most of every minute in NYC. I didn't have to "babysit" her, she was fearless. She got on the subway by herself a few times and always made it home ok. We ate Italian food every day as it's her favorite. We found a wholesale jewelry supply store and I picked out pearls and she made me a necklace and earrings that I will cherish forever.<br />
<br />
The girlfriends I grew up with from the old neighborhood and I started going out for dinner every so often at a fun Italian and those dinners are really something to look forward to. 6 or 8 women, many of whom I know since my first day of first grade back in 1976, who can appreciate and even love the woman I've become. We're all so different, but we have the common blood of Sheepshead Bay running through our veins.<br />
<br />
I went back to camp!! I'm the leader for my daughter's Girl Scout troop and we want to take the girls camping so I had to get "Camp Certified." The best part is that I had to do the certification course at the camp I went to from 1980-1987!! What an amazing experience!! To be able to share with my daughter the place that was so much a part of the person I have become is an deeply moving experience. So much of the camp is the same, yet so much is completely different. The Kid and I listened to "We Found Love" by Rihanna about 396 times on the trip up and back and that song will now always make me think of that magical weekend in the NY woods. The women I did the certification course with were so in tune with me; we were all doing the course for the same reason...to make a difference in girls' lives.<br />
<br />
I upgraded to a smartphone and for the first 2 weeks after I got it, I felt sooooo dumb!I thought these things were supposed to make us smart...SMH...<br />
<br />
I had a very low-key Christmas and I liked it. No casts of thousands all showing up wearing their fat pants so their circulation wouldn't get cut off, no family drama, no ugliness with the Ex....Just Chinese take-out and The Help on DVD...it was divine.<br />
<br />
The Kid and I were supposed to go to my friend's house for New Year's, but her poor son had pneumonia & the flu. We decided that we'd make everyone another New Year's by celebrating Chinese/Lunar New Year's at the end of January. My friends and I are always looking for new and exciting reasons to get together and hang out, so why not Chinese New Year?!?!? <br />
<br />
<br />
If 2012 is half as good as 2011, I'm in for a great time this year...Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-64237388488812501642011-12-08T10:43:00.000-05:002012-10-09T09:58:55.959-04:00What's On My Master To-Do List? Cleaning Closets!!I have a really nice 3 bedroom apartment on the 3rd floor of a three family house. We moved there in July of 2003 when my parents bought the house and subsequently moved into the middle apartment.<br />
<br />
There were 3 of us then, now there are 2. Me and a sassy, smart, sensitive and fashion conscious 9 year old. Sidenote - The Kid is starting a club with her little gang of girlfriends that promote the honor of friendship and for fashion styling. Heaven help me. Ok, back to topic: Even though there are only 2 of us, we have accumulated a LOT of stuff. The 3rd bedroom has really never served as anything but a room for all the extra crap that I can't get rid of but don't use. Some examples: the portable heater to be used while The Kid is bathing in winter, about 5 blankets (to be used in case of a Day After Tomorrow type deep freeze), an antique dresser filled with my sweaters and on top, my jewelry and perfume, boxes & boxes of books (I admit there are 2 boxes that are my college textbooks, I graduated in 1994) and a clothes drying rack.<br />
<br />
When Ex moved out, I was merciless at erasing him from MY apartment. I discarded 5 contractor sized garbage bags of junk that he left behind. He would notoriously open a bill, save all the moronic advertisements that were enclosed for me to look at, "in case I need to buy something," When I opened a bill, all I saved at were the bill and the envelope. Everything else was trash. I found a pile of these advertisement that was 3 years in the making and 6 or 7 inches high. I wanted to have a ceremonial burning of his collection, but I got a good enough amount of satisfaction of tearing every one of them in half and throwing them out. Another thing, He always had an extra 3 or 4 bottles of dish soap under the sink, but never managed to ever purchase a sponge.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, over the years since he moved out, I got lazy. There are now cracks and crevices in my apartment brimming with junk. I'm good at cleaning off flat surfaces, but the clothes are where I'm weak. The whole if-you-haven't-worn-it-on-a-year rule is broken in my closet. The Kid's closet/dresser are up-to-date, but I really, REALLY need to clean out my clothing. I need to part with a few sweaters, but most of them were hand-knit by either my mother or her friend, Natalie. There's one sweater in my dresser that my mom made for my grandmother. When Grandma died, I took the sweater. I've never worn it since since i took possession of it in 2003. But...how can I get rid of a sweater that my mom made and that belonged to Grandma. See how I trip myself up all the time? I focus on one article of clothing.<br />
<br />
I'm embarrassed that I have a 6 room apartment and I only use 5 rooms. I harbor fantasies of making that 3rd bedroom a reading/relaxation room. Or making it a tv room. Or making it an exercise room. If only I could fantasize about cleaning the damn room out!!<br />
<br />
I'm good at getting rid of shoes that are worn out, because then I have an excuse to buy new prettier ones. <br />
<br />
My friend, Lisa, says that when things get difficult or when she's in a period of emotional turmoil, she cleans out a closet. She says it gives her perspective and a sense of balance. I think I need to try it.Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-89625651282340393542011-11-09T10:57:00.000-05:002011-11-09T10:57:29.689-05:00I'm helping? Really?Two friends in as many weeks say that my positivity is helping them, that they're gaining something from it. I was shocked both times. This is notoriously a tough time of year for me. I'm crazy busy with The Kid's activities and this is a nutty time at work too. I'm too tired to expend lots of thought or energy on anything frivolous. But, there's always time for sharing something that works for me, someone else might be able to use the same thought or prayer or process to help themselves along a little bit.<br />
<br />
It's not that I'm not happy. Generally, I am a happy person. I do sometimes get mired down in financial worries, or work-related stress, or answering The Kid's seemingly never-ending questions, but for the most part, being happy feels better than the alternative.<br />
<br />
I have had a few dark moments: just today, I got paid, I paid my bills and I balanced my checkbook. I actually broke out in a cold sweat. I'm not broke, but I'm not wealthy. All the bills got paid, one even got paid 3 weeks ahead of schedule, but there's not a whole lot left over. Then there's the time when someone asked me what I was so tired about. My eyes crossed with anger and then with exasperation. Seriously? You need an explanation?!? Ex doesn't take The Kid overnight all that often so I haven't had a weekend off in over 2 months, I do all the household chores, make all the decisions, work full-time, volunteer with The Kid's Girl Scout Troop, and have to keep a happy face on. You'd be tired too, but would you be as content as me? I doubt it.<br />
<br />
As John Lennon once wrote, "Life is what happens when you're making other plans." Life can be bright and life can be dark. Sometimes it's shaded. Ok, enough metaphors. Honestly, I just want The Kid to grow up happy. I want to save a little money so I won't have to work until I'm 94. I want to wear clothes that don't look like they came from Good Will (although the top I have on now is from Good Will and I love it!). Although I like to cook, sometimes I want to eat Chinese take-out from the cartons and not get any grief about it.<br />
<br />
We need to find that stuff that makes us happy and stick with that. For me, a major part of being happy is keeping in touch using Facebook. I'm lucky to have friends scattered across the US and a few in Europe that I converse with on an almost every-day basis. These people carry me through the dark times and on occasion, have unknowingly pointed to the light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes, I only have enough in me to stare at that little twinkle. Other days, I'm doing the Snoopy Dance, pointing it out to others. <br />
<br />
We all need to help one another out. We need not carry the burdens of someone else without rest, we need not apologize for our own feelings or beliefs, but we must help one another find that little light.<br />
<br />
This little light of mine...I'm gonna let it shine...Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-1940291707218105452011-08-17T09:55:00.000-04:002011-08-17T09:55:49.941-04:00It Could Have Been A Whole Lot WorseI'm in a period of reflection. I've made it part of my "recovery;" that's the term AA and Al-Anon uses to describe the period after one realizes they are powerless over alcohol. It my case, it's as a person who is powerless over the alcohol use in someone else.<br />
<br />
I've been journaling/blogging a lot (more journaling than blogging) about my experience as a single mother and what a challenge it's been. I realize that humans are born to 2 parents because parents really need to tag team one another at times. Well, I don't currently have a tag team partner. If Ex took being a parent seriously, we could still tag team one another even though we are divorced.<br />
<br />
Things have been so hard over the last 5 years. There have been money crises, there's more than my share of physical and mental exhaustion, there have been times when all I wanted to do is curl up in a corner and cry.<br />
<br />
When I look at Ex, I realize how much farther I could have fallen emotionally/mentally/financially if I had chosen to remain married to him. I realize that if I'd chosen to not return to the workforce, I wouldn't have had any choice but to remain married. I'm glad I finished college when I did, even though I really wanted to quit.<br />
<br />
Honestly, things could be terrible, but they're not. I've got a decent job with security (a HUGE bonus in this economy). I've got 2 healthy parents who help with The Kid's care. I have enough money in the bank to pay my bills are have a little fun. I am about 1.5 years away from paying off the debts that have been weighing on my mind for over 6 years. I've got really smart and generous friends who love me and The Kid. The Kid has the sweetest little friends and I'm lucky enough to like and respect their parents. I still get to visit my 87 y/o grandmother whenever I want and I still get to enjoy her stories. My family is nuts, but loving and supportive. I'm healthy and I've got a healthy kid. I'm glad for the quality time I spend with The Kid and the quality time I spend with only myself.<br />
<br />
I've been thinking that while things aren't perfect (I don't believe in perfection anyway), things could be a lot worse than they are. <br />
Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-44020624673852587512011-08-09T10:36:00.001-04:002011-08-12T09:19:10.305-04:00What Does It Matter What Other People Think?We all know it doesn't, especially when it's about our kids. I dare anyone to tell me that I am not doing my best for The Kid. You don't want to deal with that wrath, trust me.<br />
<br />
The point is, when it comes to kids, people need to mind their own business. Sometimes I see mothers of 4 or 5 who have their shit together in ways I only dream about. My only child is happy, whether I have my shit together or not.<br />
<br />
I have no interest in debating divorce with someone who a) hasn't been through it, particularly with kids in tow, or b) are close minded idiots.Divorce is a simple, yet ugly word that defines the worst about human nature. It means that someone stopped loving someone else and didn't even want to try anymore. At least that's how I define it. I permanently divided a family, yet I don't feel guilty. I deserve happiness too. Ex isn't the only one who didn't get what they wanted. Actually, since he went out and got hammered quite often, the way I look at it, he got what he wanted infinitely more often. I got to do all the work, and he had all the fun...and he had his laundry done for him.<br />
<br />
But really, it doesn't even matter what Ex thinks. I have a theory, a mantra even, that we are all responsible for our own happiness. If one isn't happy, then one can't help others achieve happiness. If one is always feeling lonely, it doesn't matter if one is alone or in a room full of people, one will still be lonely. My happiness was paid for by my marriage, but I have no regrets. While I miss being married, I don't miss being married to Ex, which was a lesson in loneliness from start to finish. I am happy now, and although I am alone, I'm not lonely.<br />
<br />
I have one person and one divine being to whom I need to make good...The Kid and God. I thank God for The Kid and The Kid defines the ultimate goodness of God. I'm not a church-going woman, but I have much faith. Faith has carried me through the darkest times of my life and has lit the most wonderful times of my life.<br />
<br />
So what does it matter what others think? I think we all need validation. We need to fit in somewhere: in our families or or friends or our work or our communities, but essentially, the only one you really need to be true to is yourself. It really doesn't matter what other think. I think it was Dr. Seuss who once said, "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." That's the ultimate truth. Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-52889567765573592852011-08-05T10:49:00.000-04:002011-08-05T10:49:20.226-04:00FridaysToday is Friday. A simple, summer Friday. I don't have much planned for the weekend but I'm excited nonetheless.<br />
<br />
Just the word Friday gets me worked up. There's is so much potential in those two syllables that I get downright giddy. I call Thursday, "Pre-Friday." Anything to get an extra Friday.<br />
<br />
Fridays normally start with me pulling on jeans instead of the dress pants or dress that I wear Monday through Thursday. I have a little extra spring in my step. I take a little extra time doing my make-up so it's Friday-worthy.<br />
<br />
Everyone at work has a different attitude on Friday too. Although my boss is wearing a suit, I can tell he's got one foot out the door to be with his children. My work friends all talk about what they'll do over the weekend, or what they won't be doing.<br />
<br />
Dinner on Fridays is always something fun, like tacos or pizza...never something serious, like meatloaf. <br />
<br />
I'm not afraid to have some coffee on Friday nights. I still need to get early to walk my dog on Saturday mornings, but I can be a rebel and go back to bed if I feel like it. I usually don't, though. i usually take my coffee out on the balcony and enjoy the quiet and the solitude before the crushing pressure of the average Saturday starts.<br />
<br />
By the end of the average Friday, I'm usually exhausted. Being a single mother and working full-time is not good for having a wickedly exciting social life, but by Friday night, although I'm really tired, I also feel almost invincible. I've reinvented the wheel and slayed dragons all week and I want to enjoy some well-deserved rest.Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-57518686159542690152011-07-19T14:15:00.000-04:002011-07-19T14:15:44.887-04:00How Dogs Affect LifeIt all started with Terry, my wire fox terrier. I got him for Christmas the year I was 11. My parents and grandparents took me to a shop that was half pet store and half florist under the ruse of buying a poinsettia. The man in the shop yelled, "You are now the proud owner of a wire fox terrier" and I thought he was talking to the other girl. But he meant me!! This little white fluff came tear-assing out of the back of the shop and straight into my heart. Life was never quite the same.<br />
<br />
Terry had to be put to sleep when I was 19. He was bitten by a pit bull and developed crippling arthritis at the puncture site. In hindsight, my parents were waiting for a cue from me that it was time to say goodbye. One morning, Terry was struggling to eat. I had to put his food bowl on an inverted soup pot so it was level with his mouth. I looked at my mom and said, "Tonight, we need to talk about this." When I came home that night, my parents weren't home and neither was Terry. I cried in private. He was the one I told all my secrets to and he never once betrayed me. He was silly and patient and obedient and proud and brave and even a little cuddly and affectionate when it was just me and him.<br />
<br />
There were other dogs, but none affected me the way Terry did.<br />
<br />
That is, until Rosie, The Wonder Poodle.<br />
<br />
I adopted Rosie on January 31, 2009, when she was 16 months old. She was rescued from a livestock farm where the owner didn't feed any of his animals. Rosie was definitely neglected, and I convinced she was abused too. It took months before she would fathom the concept of trust. It took a full 18 months before any stranger on the street could touch her without her freaking out.<br />
<br />
She's become playful and happy. Once in a while, I see the dark clouds in her eyes, but it's been happening less and less frequently.<br />
<br />
Terry was aloof and majestic and Rosie is just trying to understand when love means. We got Terry when he was a puppy and he only knew love and having plenty of food and toys. Rosie was sold to that farmer when she was 5 months old and was confiscated when she was 16 months old. For that 11 months, she knew no love, no scratches on her chin (which she loves), not enough to eat, no grooming and no socialization.<br />
<br />
Now, I hate to leave the house without my dog. I hate when the summer comes and she chooses to sleep on the cold bathroom floor and not on the end of my bed where I can feel the weight of her on my feet.. I never take her food away, even if she doesn't finish dinner until the next morning. I give her a piece of roast beef whenever I make a sandwich. I play "Go Get It," our version of fetch, long after my arm grows numb. When I go to the house of family members without her, they always ask me to bring her next time. I have friends who aren't necessarily fans of pets/animals say she's a nice, calm dog. I've had other friends photograph her and when they send me the pictures, they are just beautiful.<br />
<br />
I tell my secrets to Rosie and she looks at me like she understands. She rests her head on my knee and lets me know that all will be well again in due time. When the pressures of being a single parent with a full-time job and an ass for an ex get to be too much, I cry on Rosie and she lets me. And when I pull myself together again, she nudges me hand for some scratches. Eye for an eye, dog version.<br />
<br />
I grew up with mostly terriers because I can't have anything that sheds. I don't think I'd ever get a terrier again. I'd get another poodle, but I know I'll never get another Rosie.<br />
<br />
Is this true canine love? I think it is...Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-86269547482220125362011-07-12T09:54:00.001-04:002011-07-13T09:11:36.700-04:00Sometimes, Caregivers Need Care Too...I've read the blogs of several friends in the last few weeks and it seems that the caregivers out there are all stressed out. It's summer and it's miserable here in the Northern Hemisphere (I don't think I have any readers from the Southern Hemisphere, but if there are any, just take my word for it). For the record, I hate summer; I haven't like summer since I stopped going to sleep away camp in 1989. When the summer of 1990 rolled around and I had to put my big girl undies on and go to work I realized, with a quickness, that I would have loved to have been a camp counselor for the rest of my life. Yeah, I know it's hard to earn a good living as a camp counselor, but I digress.<br />
<br />
Anyway, back to the topic. I decided to try a different camp for The Kid this summer. Cost me a bloody fortune, and I truly expected her to come home exclaiming about what a great time she's having. She's not. I soooooo want to send her to work so I can go to camp in her place.<br />
<br />
I just get tired of taking care of everyone all the time. I'm a single parent and as I've stated in previous posts, Ex is useless. He thinks The Kid's clothes are magically laundered by fairies and than Rumpelstiltskin cobbles her shoes for free. He has no idea what it takes to keep a child healthy, safe, fed properly and happy. He thinks it's perfectly ok to feed her something she hates because he was forced to eat stuff he hated as a child.I have to wash all the towels this camp demands The Kid pack everyday and I wash all those swimsuits by hand because the washer will ruin the material.. I have to pack a lunch that I know The Kid will eat and I have to make sure she packs enough to drink on those scorching days. I have to make sure she gets enough rest even though I haven't been fully rested in over 9 years myself. <br />
<br />
I also "care" for about 14 people at work. I'm the administrative assistant in a clinical unit in a hospital and I constantly have someone barking their needs at me. Who needs to have a check cut for the publication fee for a journal article they've written, who needs a place to sleep when they are here in the middle of the night for emergencies, who needs me to un-jam the printer, who needs me to organize meetings, who needs me to make the MD's do things we all know full well they are never going to do, who need me to be both a pee-on and an administrator...the list goes on and on. I'm really good at prioritizing and problem solving, but I'm not a miracle worker.<br />
<br />
I need to run away for a while. I want to escape, to quote a beloved movie, "I want to be unattached."<br />
<br />
But I know, deep in my heart, I'll never be unattached. I am the kind of person who is the rock for others, but who has a hard time asking for help. I have friends who really want to spend time with me, but things come up, and as a single parent, I don't always have a Plan B. These gals stick by me, they check on me, they genuinely enjoy my company and I'm thankful for them.<br />
<br />
Love and respect come in many forms. I just wish that it sometimes came in the form of a housekeeper or a junior assistant...Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-21325281010809875692011-06-14T10:10:00.000-04:002011-06-14T10:10:33.335-04:00ClosetsI was a junk-purging mad woman this weekend. I went at The Kid's bedroom with a Take-No-Prisoners attitude. I threw out what seemed like 14 dozen headless nude Barbies, a million game pieces that lost their boxes, game boxes that lost their pieces (yet the pieces I found didn't go with any of the games, not sure how that happened), worn out fuzzy slippers, bits of construction paper, dried out markers, plastic bangle bracelets and other assorted "stuff."<br />
<br />
I cleaned out my own bedroom closet and got rid of at least 25 tops and 10 pairs of pants that I have no intention of ever wearing again.I went through the plastic containers in my kitchen and threw out all the containers with no tops, and the tops that had no containers.I still haven't gotten to the load of junk on my dining room table, but I'll get to that tonight.<br />
<br />
Sometimes you need to do more than pray and reflect and put forth positive energies to get what you want. Sometimes you need to move the physical mess out of the way too. At least that's what my mom says. I need to do this kind of purging more often. There's one bedroom that I've never set up properly because it's just got stuff in it. I've made it my summer project to clean out that room, no matter how much it haunts me. I'll get to that one day soon, I swear!!Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-18910672546028426102011-05-26T15:47:00.001-04:002011-05-26T15:48:20.749-04:00Of This, I Am Sure...Here I go with the lists again. I can't help it, I like my thoughts organized. Most aspects of my life are a little chaotic (hey, you try being a single parent while working at an inner city hospital and see how un-chaotic you remain!!).<br />
<br />
I post on a private message board and there's a common thread that we start every once in a while called "I Wonder." We write out our own personal list of unanswerable or rhetorical questions like, "I wonder why sweet potato fries aren't healthy" and "I wonder why I can't wear jeans to an interview."<br />
<br />
You get the point, right?<br />
<br />
I was thinking that perhaps it might work in a more positive way to list the things that I know for sure, not just what I wonder about. So, here it goes:<br />
<br />
<br />
*I'm a good mother...<br />
<br />
*I would be a better ex-wife if Ex deserved it...<br />
<br />
*A nice cup of coffee is the BEST way to start a day...<br />
<br />
*My family will always be weird and nutty, but they'll always love me...<br />
<br />
*Having a lot of money and stuff is not the way to live life to the fullest...Most middle class people I know are a hell of a lot happier than the wealthier people I know... <br />
<br />
*Having a child is not a reason to lost one's sense of humor, but it is a reason to get silly as often as you can and to rediscover the joys of your own childhood...<br />
<br />
*Facebook and Twitter are not real life, but they can help you connect with real people...<br />
<br />
*Staying out of the sun really makes you look better in the long run...<br />
<br />
*Wearing clothes that fit will make you look infinitely better than wearing clothes that are too tight. Being a size 12 and wearing a size 8 just makes you look like an overstuffed sofa and you aren't fooling anyone... <br />
<br />
*High heels will never feel like sneakers and are never comfortable...I don't care what anyone says...<br />
<br />
*Martha Stewart is psychotic and no one should ever try to be like her. I run from people who think she's an authority on homemaking or cooking...<br />
<br />
*Your friends will show up when it's time to celebrate...your TRUE friends will show up when you have surgery, and when a loved one dies, and will help you get home when you've had too much to drink, and they will tell the truth when you ask them if your ass looks big in a certain pair of pants...<br />
<br />
Of what are you 100% sure?Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-11586320713653658772011-05-18T15:33:00.006-04:002011-05-19T08:42:36.665-04:00What Would You Ask God, Given The Chance to Have A One-On-One?I caught part of a radio interview with a writer who wrote a book answering that question. If you believe in God, it's a fascinating question.<br />
<br />
For the record, I believe in God, but not necessarily in organized religion. I can't, for the life of me, believe that God cares how we dress, or has decided what we should/shouldn't eat, or has given the power to heal or forgive only to a chosen few. Let's face it, the most "devout" followers of any given religion are usually the most boring because they have no interest in experiencing anything outside their safety zone. I happen to think that most religious rituals bring money the house of worship they are performed in, so the leaders of those houses of worship "scare" their congregants into "faith." I don't believe any baby is born with sin and don't really believe in purgatory. I do, however, believe in hell. <br />
<br />
I also believe that God has given us free will and he wants us to explore that free will. He wants us to make the right decisions, but doesn't judge when we make the wrong ones. I have proof of this in my own life. I married the wrong man (but know that I loved him very much for about 25% of my life), yet, after I divorced him, I was immediately happier. If I were a religious person, I would never have considered divorce.<br />
<br />
I think if I were given an opportunity to interview God, I'd ask how my feelings of happiness and relief could ever be conceived as sinful.<br />
<br />
I'd ask him why the good die young.<br />
<br />
I'd ask him why the levels of wealth in humans varies so greatly? I'd also ask why the wealthy seem to think it's ok to behave badly?<br />
<br />
I'd ask him if my parents will live a good long time. I'd ask him if my mother will blow a gasket when the day comes that I tell her she can't drive anymore. <br />
<br />
I'd ask him if Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle J can really hear when I talk to them. I'd ask him to hug them for me and to tell them how much I miss them.<br />
<br />
I'd ask God if C's business will flourish. I'd ask him when M will write that book. I'd ask him when K will find her life's path. I'd ask him if I will ever make Sunday sauce as well the Other M. I'd ask if G will ever find the strength that we all know is in her. I'd ask if J knows just how good she has it. I'd ask if D will ever get a break to enjoy some solitude. I'd ask if L knows how much I long for the summer days of our youth. <br />
<br />
I'd ask him if there really is such a thing as too many coffee mugs (so far, 19 is NOT too many). I'd ask him why jeans aren't appropriate attire for ALL situations/occasions.<br />
<br />
I'd ask if it's ok to want to be the center of attention once in a while.<br />
<br />
I'd ask if my child will always be this happy. I'd ask him to reveal the future, just this once, to let me know if contentment will follow her all the days of her life.<br />
<br />
I'd ask him if I'll ever find another Great Love. I'd ask him if the red-hot-passion kind of love and Sunday-Morning-papers-in-bed kind of love and sassy-black-dresses-and-heels kind of love and doesn't-matter-if-my-makeup's-on-or-not kind of love is a thing of the past for me.<br />
<br />
I probably wouldn't get many answers from God, but then again, it's the unknown that makes life so interesting. I don't mind reading about movie spoilers, but life spoilers...nah, now that I've thought about it, I think I'll pass. I heard a saying a while back: God made the Earth round so we wouldn't see too far ahead. Perhaps that's the truth. Perhaps the Earth, the heavens, the oceans and our imaginations are so vast just for that reason, so we don't get too many answers to our questions. The questions make me not want to stop exploring.Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-69026008834223868022011-05-17T09:29:00.000-04:002011-05-17T09:29:17.327-04:00Self-Destruction, or Self Awareness, Depending On How You Look At ItI've been a victim of self destruction on more than one occasion. Ok, for the sake of truthfulness, more than a thousand occasions. My drug of choice was food: I ate and ate and ate until the only feeling was physical sickness, until the pain of not making the right decisions, or feeling unloved, or knowing that the number of times I can have a Do-Over were becoming more and more limited was eminent. Don't get me wrong, there have been countless occasions when I drank too much or loved the wrong guy too much. I never did hard drugs, but I can understand their allure.<br />
<br />
But one of the most valuable lessons I've ever learned is that one can't help anyone find their "rock-bottom."<br />
<br />
Rock-bottom is a term used in addiction that means that the addict can't get any lower and can't be any more broken. I've seen several people reach their rock-bottoms and let me tell ya, it ain't pretty. There are several people I know who need to reach the rock-bottoms a little more quickly so they can try to salvage a life for themselves.<br />
<br />
Life is not about having the most/best stuff or making a spectacle of oneself on a regular basis (Lord knows I've done this a bit too much in my time) or the like.<br />
<br />
It's about making quality human connections. It's about spending time with those you not only love, but genuinely respect. It's about learning everything you can about topics that interest you, even if they don't interest anyone else. It's about not settling for second best. It's about making your own way through life, and about leaving your own unique signature. It's about taking responsibility for your own actions, even if it means taking a long unpleasant look at yourself.<br />
<br />
That last one is a doozy, huh? I do this periodically and sometimes I'm proud of the way I've handled myself in any given situation and at other times, not so much. I admit my mistakes, apologize if necessary and move on. I analyze situations over and over for a while and then I set them aside.<br />
<br />
You can't change the past, only how you handle things in the future.Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-84922774780968630942011-05-16T11:32:00.000-04:002011-05-16T11:32:12.606-04:00It's Been Ages Since I've Written A Thing......'cept checks and work related emails....<br />
<br />
I hate that I go through looooong periods of not having anything to write. I've had some wonderful experiences over the last few months, but not the time to properly put into words how I feel about them. <br />
<br />
I had some girlfriends come to stay with me during spring break and it was AMAZING!! I had a friend from Montana, 3 from Atlanta, 3 from Manchester (the one in ENGLAND, not Vermont), a couple we're friends with came up from Charlottesville, Virginia and my cousin came for a day too. This is the group of women that I met at that online book club and we all connected immediately. I showed them all over my city and we made spectacles out of ourselves at several different venues. But, hey, that's just the way we roll!!<br />
<br />
I've had some issues with the Ex worked out, of course, with the court's help. He can't simply talk to me, he's got to get the courts involved, but that's part of his disease. He's an alcoholic and well, all addicts are notorious attention whores, unless, they're using their drug of choice. The Kid wants no part of him, but of course, that's my fault. He says I'm turning her against him. He has no understanding of his own child if he thinks for one hot NY minute that anyone could make The Kid do/think/feel something she doesn't want to. It's pathetic. But I know that in the end, I'm her favorite. I have been since the nights of her infancy when he was too chit-faced to care that she was in a wet diaper. I took care of everything from Day 1 and she knows it. I'm her greatest champion, and she knows that too.<br />
<br />
Things are work are crazy busy, but I'm thankful for it. With the economy as unstable it is, I'm thankful for my civil servant job, complete with benefits and security. Sure, I'd make a fuck-load more money doing what I do at a private hospital, but I could be out of a job *snap* like that if the powers that be decided that was best. So, I trudge along, day in and day out, not letting my job/career choice define me.<br />
<br />
The Kid is going to have a fabulous summer. I registered her for a new day camp, with sports, crafts, 2 swims a day...and she's going with her best friend. Man, I wanna go to camp again. I'm still in touch with my summer sister; we went to camp together for 8 years. I hope hope hope The Kid makes a friend like that one day.<br />
<br />
I joined the gym again. I let my membership lapse about 18 months ago and just re-joined on Saturday. I'm not looking to be a size 4 or to fit into a bikini. I just want to feel good again; I just want to feel stronger. I want some strength, some stamina, and perhaps a little more self esteem. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite comfortable in my own skin. I like my body, even if it isn't Victoria's Secret catalog worthy. I've survived surgery, childbirth, the feelings of worthlessness and want to feel the triumph again,<br />
<br />
We had our year end party for my Brownie troop on Friday. Man, I'm gonna miss those girls. We had 11 in our troop and most of them have known one another since their day care days. It was a nice mix and since we only met 2x a month, it wasn't too much of a burden. There's one girl who just won my heart. She's Asian by birth, and was adopted by American parents as a toddler and brought to the US. She's American through and through, but has an Italian name to go with her Asian face. She's also a very old soul. She has probably seen things in the orphanage that you and I can't imagine. Her adoptive mother is also an old soul and these two are so tightly bound. I'm thankful I've witnessed their love. Anyway, I split the driving/drop-offs with the other leader and this sweet girl told me that she wants to come in my car whenever we drive anywhere because she likes to be near me. Can you hear my heart soar?!? <br />
<br />
I have to say that The Kid has made such a great group of friends and I'm lucky to have become friends with a few of the moms. It's one of the reasons I love where we live. It's not a small-town, but it's definitely a community.<br />
<br />
I hope to find more time to write...I want to blog, I want to journal, and I want to write more children's stories. Writing is an outlet that soothes me and helps me grow. It invites people into my life in controlled doses.<br />
<br />
Welcome back...Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-77180790272756209152011-01-13T14:12:00.000-05:002011-01-13T14:12:06.012-05:00You See The Craziest Stuff In Family CourtFor reasons I'd rather not explain at the moment, I had to appear in Family Court the other day.<br />
<br />
And the best thing I can say about the experience of going to Family Court is that all those freak-ass-freaks who also had to appear that day made me look so freakin' normal.<br />
<br />
Let me explain:<br />
<ul><li> There was the attorney who was dressed in a beautiful 3-piece suit and shiny black loafers...with a sweatband on his head. I guess he forgot to remove it after his morning workout.</li>
<li>There was the woman wearing the rattiest-looking sweats I'd ever seen AND false eyelashes, that in my mind's eye, were about 2 inches long. Why take the time to skillfully and carefully apply false lashes yet not bother to wear decent clothes?</li>
<li>This one's my favorite: There was a woman with "FUCK YOU" tattooed around the outer curve of her left eye. So, it won't matter who she makes eye contact with, she's saying, "FUCK YOU!" </li>
</ul>I wore a black cotton turtleneck sweater, plain black dress pants and black leather boots and I was thinking that perhaps the magistrate would think I was too "edgy." Too bad The Fuck You Lady was appearing in front of another magistrate, because then my magistrate probably would have thought I looked rather "nun-like."Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-60224016415720201712010-12-20T15:49:00.000-05:002010-12-20T15:49:55.318-05:00PainWhy do we always hurt the ones we love?<br />
<br />
I feel like my heart has been pierced by the tiniest, sharpest knife in the arsenal of someone very close to me. And it hurts. A lot.<br />
<br />
I'm trying to find the logic of this person's decision. I can't make peace with it.<br />
<br />
I laid my cards on the table, went out on a limb, invited this person into my feelings...tried to describe what I felt and then explained what I needed. And I was hurtfully rebuffed.<br />
<br />
I just want a little peace...and a soft place to fall...just for a little while...Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-65744201881932022772010-12-16T14:07:00.000-05:002010-12-16T14:07:56.399-05:00Shopping and Preparing Like The Dickens - Christmas 2010Like my literature-related pun in the title? No...oh well, off to better reading.<br />
<br />
This is the busiest time of the year by far. It's much worse than back to school because I'm shopping and preparing for everyone I know, not just those to whom I've given birth.<br />
<br />
There's shopping, wrapping, baking, planning, and explaining to the kid who Santa Claus really is. But more on that later. <br />
<br />
The kid's teacher needs yet another mug (everyone always gets the teacher a mug, right? that's the rule, isn't it?), my grandmother needs yet another sweater that she'll never wear, and my cousin needs yet another set of pretty jammies (I know she wear regular clothes, but I've only ever seen her wear the jammies I give her). I managed to find what I think are the most expensive girls panties on the Eastern Seaboard, but though I got a great bargain because they were buy 4, get 2 free. I went to buy the kid a winter coat and instead bought her a faux fur leopard skin jacket. Yeah, because faux fur leopard skin is just the thing to keep you warm in a blizzard...NOT!!! I bought all sorts of cookies, but didn't really have anyone to give them to, and since my mom is the Christmas Cookie Baking Nazi, I really had some nerve BUYING cookies. When she saw what I was buying, she gave me a frumpy look and then marched off to plan my accidental death by way of the Kitchen-Aid mixer.<br />
<br />
This year, after all the emotional and financial turmoil, I am really making a point of counting my blessings and getting into the spirit of the season. I listen to beloved Christmas music and remember those magical Christmas moments of my childhood.<br />
<br />
Ex and I sat down with the kid last week and explained the story of St. Nicholas and that a jolly man in a red suit is not coming through the patio door with presents (hey, I don't have a chimney, I had to be creative with the architectural design of my house, ok?). She was really bummed, but then told us she figured it out last year. That little stinker!! Ex and I proceeded to tell her that she was now a guardian of the story, that she had to keep her knowledge about who brings the presents to herself and not repeat it under any circumstances. That's when she got the devilish grin on her face.<br />
<br />
I'm missing my maternal grandparents. I always do around this time of year. We made a HUGE Italian fish dinner every Christmas Eve and it just hasn't been the same since they passed away. It was the one day of the year that Grandma let Grandpa use her kitchen. They taught me to de-vein shrimp when I was 5 years old and by 8 years old, I was the reigning de-veining queen. Grandma would pour me a cup of coffee and I'd happily clean shrimp for hours. <br />
<br />
Then, there was the Christmas I got Terry, my wire fox terrier. He was the greatest Christmas present I ever got, hands down. He cemented in me a love of dogs that is still with me today. <br />
<br />
Then there was the first Christmas Ex and I lived together. We got this great tree and I cooked Christmas dinner.<br />
<br />
Christmas can also be heart-breaking. My uncle J was killed in a car wreck in November of 1977 and to say that Christmas that year was a little somber is putting it mildly.<br />
<br />
The first Christmas after Ex moved out was a little tough too. I had to get rid of the angel tree-topper we bought together and I had to throw out the two turtle doves that Mom gave us for our first Christmas after we got married.<br />
<br />
I realize that my job now is to make happy memories for the kid. She's the one that Christmas is all about now.<br />
<br />
It's all about making magic...Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-27912487349372743582010-11-30T14:23:00.001-05:002010-12-01T09:22:18.936-05:00When The Past Creeps Up On You...In A Good WayThe boy I sat next to in 7th grade math class accepted my Facebook friend request. I still have the mark on my leg from when he stabbed me with a pencil. I can't remember what prompted such an attack. I might have been making fun of how short he was. Maybe. Remember this is 7th grade...the girls were all getting used to wearing their bras every day, yet all the boys hadn't quite hit their growth spurts.<br />
<br />
I'm friends with lots of people with whom I went to school. Too Tall K, who lived down the hall from me. MID, who carries on the tradition of her mother's chicken and potatoes. RB, who is still the social butterfly and who is still one of the coolest people on the planet. G, who still carries her camera everywhere she goes. And all those beautiful girls with whom I went to an all-girls Catholic high school. Seriously, these were some of the most stunning girls on the planet. <br />
<br />
I like to look their pictures. Invariably there are the kid pictures (if they are parents), the pet pictures (if they have dogs/cats/whatever)...and there are the pictures of our youth.<br />
<br />
Brooklyn is exactly like you see in the movies. The scene where John Travolta walking down the street in <u>Saturday Night Fever</u> is so typical. I could be watching a home movie. My uncle looked just like that, only he was blond. The hair, the strut, the working class mentality...that was Uncle J, to a tee. <br />
<br />
Brooklyn takes the idea of "6 degrees of separation" very seriously. And it's usually less than 6 degrees. The wife of one of my ex boyfriends went to a rival all girls Catholic high school with one of my summer sisters. And conversely, this man's mother used to be the administrator of one of my co-workers when she worked at another hospital. And on a totally separate note, I used to be a cashier in the same supermarket as Too Tall K's wife and her sister, waaaaaay before Too Tall K ever met her. <br />
<br />
Although Brooklyn could never be considered a small town, each neighborhood had a small town feel. Each neighborhood had its playground, its alley to sneak smokes you swiped from someone's parents, its own park where you first let the icy waterslide of a Calvin cooler or a Budweiser slosh down your throat in your first effort to be a bad ass, its dark streets perfect for making out with that dreamy guy on a Saturday night, its own dive bar when you first started drinking (always before we were 21, but they didn't card back then) and that crazy ole lady who'd call the cops if you so much as sneezed outside her house past 7:30pm.<br />
<br />
As this tumultuous year nears its end, I find myself thinking back to those simpler times. When deciding whether to change into your sweatpants for gym class was worth the effort or if you'd chance getting marked "unprepared."<br />
<br />
As I look at those sweet faces of my youth, I can't help but get nostalgic. Tis this season, I suppose. I think of family members who have passed on, the innocence I was in such a rush to get rid of and of all those lost chances. I let these memories wash over me, not pushing them away, but welcoming their visit. I know my own daughter will experience all these things for herself in due course and I hope the innocence will be cherished on her part, I hope the chances will not taken for granted and the rush of a first beer/kiss/ride in the cool guy's car will always be remembered. The craziness and anger that is my life now will one day be in the past and when it creeps up on me, I'll remember this time in my life for what it taught me about patience, my inner peace and for fighting for what I believed in. And I will be proud of the way I handled myself.Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-66253498411212149962010-10-18T13:52:00.000-04:002010-10-18T13:52:46.601-04:00Good for the SoulI've been looking for articles on inexpensive (read: cheap, and even better, free) ways to reduce stress.<br />
<br />
I don't really take baths, I can't afford a spa weekend and don't own a vacation home. So that leaves, ummmm, well, really what does it leave?<br />
<br />
Well, I'll tell ya! It leaves laughter!<br />
<br />
My friends and I all met at the diner that was the backdrop of our childhood and adolescence. The Kings Plaza Diner (KPD) is closing at the end of the month and we all decided to have a mini-reunion. There were 13 of us, including the 14 month old son of a friend. (Sidenote: this little boy is just too freakin' cute!!) Anyway, there were burgers (some with cheese, some without and one veggie burger), about 24,000 french fries, buckets of brown gravy (KPD's gravy tastes EXACTLY the same as it did when I tasted it when I was 14) and about a million laughs.<br />
<br />
Oh heavens, did we laugh!! We reminisced about the old neighborhood, friends who couldn't join us, the weird stunts we pulled when we were fearless teenagers and the chocolate covered cheesecake. The coffee still tastes the same and no matter which waitress we get, they never seem to bring enough half-and-half.<br />
<br />
We're all parents now, we all have a few gray hairs (ok, a LOT of grays), we all have households that need out attention, and jobs that don't allow us to get together as often as we'd like.<br />
<br />
I'm thankful for this group. With all the mental and emotional chaos that's been going on right now, I needed this night more than ever. I needed to laugh. I needed to be accepted for who I am.<br />
<br />
We took pictures of the fries with melted cheese and we stole a menu. A friend who lives in North Carolina will get that. He couldn't drive 12 hours just for a cheeseburger deluxe, but he was with us in spirit.<br />
<br />
Now, it's the end of an era.<br />
<br />
The KPD is closing by the end of the month. Not to sound all corny and shit, but it really will live on in our hearts and memories together. When I couldn't agree with my mother about anything, we could agree on eating at the KPD. I went there to eat and drink coffee with just about everyone I've ever loved.<br />
<br />
As we all split up to go to our separate cars, we promised to get together again soon. Maybe for a little pre-Christmas celebration. Maybe in the depths of January when there's not much to do.<br />
<br />
Whatever we do, we'll have to find a new place to meet. It'll be ok. We're all aware that many things change, but this one thing made us all so nostalgic that we really wish that it could be one of those things that never change.Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-44096008942509275522010-10-14T09:37:00.000-04:002010-10-14T09:37:53.565-04:00Ok, No More NegativityMy new goal is to remain positive as much as I can.<br />
<br />
I was on the phone with my 86 year old grandmother yesterday. This woman was raised on a farm in the South during the Great Depression, met and married my grandfather, converted religions, bore and raised her children in New York City (far from her own family), and lived a sometimes difficult life. Now, she is in the twilight years and she's made peace with all that has happened to her. She's still a force to be reckoned with, and loves to spend time with her family. She understands her limitations and isn't afraid to show her fears. She's intensely devout in her religion and still finds ways to laugh every day.<br />
<br />
When I was telling her about the issues I'm facing right now, my grandmother told she'd start praying very very hard for a positive outcome. She wisely told me that although I might not get everything I want, I will always have what I need.<br />
<br />
I realized that after everything my grandmother had been through, the lesson is simple: Pray for what you need, not for what you want.<br />
<br />
Case in point: I was looking for some very important paperwork last night and I just couldn't find it. I even asked The Kid to help me look, that's how desperate I was. I prayed to God and to St. Anthony (patron saint of all things lost), asking for help. I wandered from room to room, doing the calculations about how much money it would cost to replace this paperwork. Then, I walked into my kitchen and there it was, staring at me, laughing its head off, pointing out my "blindness."<br />
<br />
I needed that paperwork for today and I prayed. And then, God and St. Anthony delivered. <br />
<br />
I have been incredibly blessed in my life and the only way to honor those blessings is to smile, remain positive and pray for what I need. Once I have all that I need, what I want will fall into place.Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-31820603598762207752010-10-13T13:54:00.000-04:002010-10-13T13:54:14.235-04:00A Few Inalienable Truths<blockquote><b>Now what kind of an attitude is that, these things happen? They only happen because this whole country is just full of people, who when these things happen, they just say these things happen, and that's why they happen! We gotta have control of what happens to us. </b></blockquote><br />
This is a quote by a character played by Ethel Merman in It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World. I swear, I crack up EVERY SINGLE TIME I watch that movie.<br />
<br />
But, this post is not about laughing or movies or fun.<br />
<br />
I'm usually not a person who just lets things happen. I try to remain pro-active and positive. I do unto others as I would like done unto me. I respect everyone until I'm given a reason not to respect them. I try not to judge others. I try to plan ahead: packing lunches the night before, starting Christmas shopping in September or October, buying clothing on clearance to wear the following year. I try not to just LET THINGS HAPPEN. <br />
<br />
There is someone in my life who never acts, this person only reacts. And this person always reacts badly. This person always looks like an idiot and when this person tries to do the right thing, there is failure, in epic proportions.<br />
<br />
I thought I was going to be able to reason with this person, but alas, this is not ordinary person...this is someone who is so spiteful and so angry and so bitter that cutting off the nose to spite the face seems like a logical idea. What this idiot doesn't seem to understand is that tickling sleeping dragons is NEVER a good idea. That's a lyrical way of explaining that pissing off someone who has dealt with a lot of BS is stupid. At some point, the dragon will wake up and be really really angry. Sometimes the status quo is supposed to be just that, the status quo. <br />
<br />
I've made some pretty tough decisions lately. I've had the help and support of my family and friends but in the end, I am responsible for these decisions.<br />
<br />
I, like the United States, have a few inalienable truths. Here are a few:<br />
<br />
<ul><li>I hate be questioned about things of which I am sure. Just save us all some time and energy and believe me when I tell you that all's quiet on all fronts.</li>
<li>I am willing to help anyone who is willing to help him/herself.</li>
<li> I like to not keep my expectations too high; that way, I am always pleasantly surprised. This truth has served me well in the past and will probably continue to work for me.</li>
<li>I have the weirdest, the most understanding and the most loyal family on the planet </li>
<li>I believe in the power of prayer; I've seen miracles that can only be attributed to answered prayers.</li>
</ul>I am a dragon. So, if you see me sleeping, leave me the hell alone. I tell you this for your own good, not mine.Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945022109530429204.post-81525377794821633602010-10-01T13:25:00.003-04:002010-10-01T13:45:27.991-04:00Working It OutI'm in the middle of some ugly emotional chaos and I have to keep it together in front of a very intuitive 8 year old. The kid seems to know when I'm sad or in turmoil and responds by getting cuddly or letting me nap or refilling my water bottle for me.<br /><br />She senses what others feel. For example, my mom had MAJOR dental surgery last week and when we got home, the kid went to get her Grandma an afghan to keep her warm and offered to rub her feet. So, it's hard to keep things from her. You don't have to verbalize what you're feeling, because she feels it too.<br /><br />The emotional crap I'm wading through has to do with her father, my ex-husband.<br /><br />He seems hell-bent on making things as difficult as possible, not just for me, but for the kid. That's what really gets to me the most. He never learned that the biggest part of being a parent is accepting that nothing will ever be just about you...it's ALWAYS about the kid.<br /><br />I learned that lesson the moment they put her in my arms. I knew that nothing would ever be the same. Nothing would ever be straight-forward. Nothing would ever be all about me ever again.<br /><br />I'm trying to do the right thing and work it out, be the better person. It's hard to try to do the right thing and be the better person when I'm already sure that I've done the right thing all along and that I am the better parent.<br /><br />But I get credit for at least trying to work it out, right?Brooklyn Bellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10561526658176586340noreply@blogger.com2