Brooklyn Belle

Well, its January 9th...

2012-01-09T13:23:00.000-05:00

...I guess it's time to write the year-end/happy New Year post, right?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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?!?!?

If 2012 is half as good as 2011, I'm in for a great time this year...

What's On My Master To-Do List? Cleaning Closets!!

2011-12-08T10:43:00.000-05:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!!

I'm good at getting rid of shoes that are worn out, because then I have an excuse to buy new prettier ones.

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.

I'm helping? Really?

2011-11-09T10:57:00.000-05:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

This little light of mine...I'm gonna let it shine...

It Could Have Been A Whole Lot Worse

2011-08-17T09:55:00.000-04:00

I'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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

What Does It Matter What Other People Think?

2011-08-09T10:36:00.001-04:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Fridays

2011-08-05T10:49:00.000-04:00

Today is Friday. A simple, summer Friday. I don't have much planned for the weekend but I'm excited nonetheless.

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.

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.

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.

Dinner on Fridays is always something fun, like tacos or pizza...never something serious, like meatloaf.

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.

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.

How Dogs Affect Life

2011-07-19T14:15:00.000-04:00

It 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.

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.

There were other dogs, but none affected me the way Terry did.

That is, until Rosie, The Wonder Poodle.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Is this true canine love? I think it is...

Sometimes, Caregivers Need Care Too...

2011-07-12T09:54:00.001-04:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

I need to run away for a while. I want to escape, to quote a beloved movie, "I want to be unattached."

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.

Love and respect come in many forms. I just wish that it sometimes came in the form of a housekeeper or a junior assistant...

Closets

2011-06-14T10:10:00.000-04:00

I 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."

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.

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!!

Of This, I Am Sure...

2011-05-26T15:47:00.001-04:00

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!!).

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."

You get the point, right?

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:

*I'm a good mother...

*I would be a better ex-wife if Ex deserved it...

*A nice cup of coffee is the BEST way to start a day...

*My family will always be weird and nutty, but they'll always love me...

*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...

*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...

*Facebook and Twitter are not real life, but they can help you connect with real people...

*Staying out of the sun really makes you look better in the long run...

*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...

*High heels will never feel like sneakers and are never comfortable...I don't care what anyone says...

*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...

*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...

Of what are you 100% sure?

What Would You Ask God, Given The Chance to Have A One-On-One?

2011-05-18T15:33:00.006-04:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

I'd ask him why the good die young.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

I'd ask if it's ok to want to be the center of attention once in a while.

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.

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.

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.

Self-Destruction, or Self Awareness, Depending On How You Look At It

2011-05-17T09:29:00.000-04:00

I'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.

But one of the most valuable lessons I've ever learned is that one can't help anyone find their "rock-bottom."

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.

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.

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.

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.

You can't change the past, only how you handle things in the future.

It's Been Ages Since I've Written A Thing...

2011-05-16T11:32:00.000-04:00

...'cept checks and work related emails....

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.

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!!

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.

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.

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.

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,

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?!?

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.

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.

Welcome back...

You See The Craziest Stuff In Family Court

2011-01-13T14:12:00.000-05:00

For reasons I'd rather not explain at the moment, I had to appear in Family Court the other day.

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.

Let me explain:

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.
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?
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!"

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."

Pain

2010-12-20T15:49:00.000-05:00

Why do we always hurt the ones we love?

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.

I'm trying to find the logic of this person's decision. I can't make peace with it.

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.

I just want a little peace...and a soft place to fall...just for a little while...

Shopping and Preparing Like The Dickens - Christmas 2010

2010-12-16T14:07:00.000-05:00

Like my literature-related pun in the title? No...oh well, off to better reading.

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.

There's shopping, wrapping, baking, planning, and explaining to the kid who Santa Claus really is. But more on that later.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Then there was the first Christmas Ex and I lived together. We got this great tree and I cooked Christmas dinner.

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.

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.

I realize that my job now is to make happy memories for the kid. She's the one that Christmas is all about now.

It's all about making magic...

When The Past Creeps Up On You...In A Good Way

2010-11-30T14:23:00.001-05:00

The 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.

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.

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.

Brooklyn is exactly like you see in the movies. The scene where John Travolta walking down the street in Saturday Night Fever 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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

Good for the Soul

2010-10-18T13:52:00.000-04:00

I've been looking for articles on inexpensive (read: cheap, and even better, free) ways to reduce stress.

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?

Well, I'll tell ya! It leaves laughter!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Now, it's the end of an era.

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.

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.

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.

Ok, No More Negativity

2010-10-14T09:37:00.000-04:00

My new goal is to remain positive as much as I can.

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.

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.

I realized that after everything my grandmother had been through, the lesson is simple: Pray for what you need, not for what you want.

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."

I needed that paperwork for today and I prayed. And then, God and St. Anthony delivered.

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.

A Few Inalienable Truths

2010-10-13T13:54:00.000-04:00

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.

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.

But, this post is not about laughing or movies or fun.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I, like the United States, have a few inalienable truths. Here are a few:

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.
I am willing to help anyone who is willing to help him/herself.
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.
I have the weirdest, the most understanding and the most loyal family on the planet
I believe in the power of prayer; I've seen miracles that can only be attributed to answered prayers.

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.

Working It Out

2010-10-01T13:25:00.003-04:00

I'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.

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.

The emotional crap I'm wading through has to do with her father, my ex-husband.

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.

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.

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.

But I get credit for at least trying to work it out, right?

Park It...

2010-09-27T11:21:00.003-04:00

When I adopted/rescued my standard poodle, Rosie, she was so traumatized that she wouldn't leave her kennel/crate. I let her eat in there for a few weeks, then gradually moved her dish toward the kitchen, about a foot a week. For a few weeks, she ate in the middle of the living room floor, but eventually, she got her own corner of the kitchen and she was OK.

I should interject here for a minute to tell you that Rosie was named Gracie when I got her, but the kid decided she liked Rosie better. Rosie and Gracie end in the same sound and the transition was seamless.

So, back to my story.

It took MONTHS, I mean at least 3 WHOLE MONTHS, for her to let my father pet her. We deduced that she was afraid of tall men. Rosie was most definitely neglected, but rather quickly it became apparent that she was abused too. Rosie quivered and leaked droplets of urine all over the place whenever my father came into the room. Dad's over 6 feet tall and I guess her former owner, if you could call him that, was tall too. Once she calmed down enough, they went on their nightly jaunts around the block.

I had a trainer come to my house to help a bit. We taught Rosie to lie down, to wait, to "go get it," meaning her toys. If we said, "GrandmaGrandpa," she stopped in front of my parents' door. She's totally house-trained. But we couldn't get her to sit.

You'd put a treat near her face, to attempt her back into a sitting position, and she'd turn her head. You'd attempt it again and you could actually see the dark clouds swoop into her eyes and she get up and walk away to a quiet corner and lie down, staring at you in fear.

That was April of 2009.

In the meantime, we tried to get her to allow being touched by strangers. It took 16 months before she'd let a stranger on the street touch her. Before that, a neighbor would hold their hand out and she recoil in fear and hide behind me. Finally, she let someone touch her and I swear, I cried and I told the man what a break-through it was to have her let him scratch her chin. He didn't seem impressed because when he stopped scratching her ears to talk to me about it, she nudged him for some more scratches.

We still were trying new methods for sitting. Then, in about November of 2009, we changed the name of the command. We asked her to "park it." We'd tap her rump, hold a treat and still she wouldn't do it. You could almost see her brain figuring out what we wanted her to do and she'd rebel against it. The dark clouds would return. My otherwise happy, well-adjusted pet would quiver in fear again.

I knew we just needed to be patient with her and wait for the breakthrough.

Well, it happened yesterday, 10 months of asking her to "park it" later, she finally parked it! I tapped her rump and said the command while we were sitting outside and she did it! I only had to ask her once! She parked it! Finally! I wonder who many exclamation points I need to help get my point across!

!!!!!!!

She did it for me and then for the kid!

And honestly, Rosie looked so damned pleased with herself. She finally realized that we're not going to hurt her and we're not going to let anyone else hurt her either.

I've always said that having a dog love and trust you is one of life's most beautiful experiences. And now that fact is proven to me yet again. Rosie came into our lives when we needed a little hope, something else to focus on once the pain of the divorce was truly over. Rosie quickly became the kid's favorite playmate and my secret-keeper. Many nights, certainly more than I'm ready to admit to, Rosie's neck was wet with my tears of exhaustion and loneliness. Then she'd cuddle up next to my bed (or on the bathroom floor when it go too hot to lie on the carpet) and she'd send me the signal that it's OK to trust, that things always improve when it's least expected.

Isn't it amazing that I had to learn one of life's most valuable lessons from a dog?

They're Coming Out Of The Woodwork...

2010-09-21T09:13:00.007-04:00

My ex-boyfriends, that's what's coming out of the woodwork. I wish winning lottery tickets were coming out of the woodwork, but alas, I don't have that kind of luck.

About 3 weeks ago, I was in Dunkin Donuts, buying myself a Strawberry Coolatta (ahhh, icy liquid candy, that stuff is!!) and I had my sunglasses on. Thank heavens, because when I turned around away from the counter, I saw A, the first of my 2 boyfriends that I had when I was in college. This is not a person I want to see, so I pretended not to see A. Yeah, I know it was immature, but then again, I did have a Coolatta in my hand, so I couldn't necessarily be seen as mature.

A wasn't a bad guy, just not the one for me. He was 7 years older than I was, with a shady past. He served hard time, but I won't go into details about what. He was ready to get married. I know this because I heard him tell one of his friends, "Well, since she's an only child, her parents will pay for the wedding, so I guess that means I'll have to pay for the engagement party."

Ummm...ok. I was so pissed off. HE & I NEVER TALKED ABOUT GETTING MARRIED AND HE'S ALREADY DECIDED WHO'S PAYING FOR WHAT!!!

Not cool. I moved on. And never regretted it...not ever, not once.

Then: Last Thursday, I'm driving home from my mother's retirement party and as I happened to glance to the side, there he was, T, the 2nd of my college boyfriends. The one who showed me that men really can love women. The one I fell for waaaaaay before he fell for me. The one that when my mother found out we broke up, she was so freakin' angry. Honestly, the woman still hasn't forgiven me.

T was also a lot older than me, 6 years. He was getting serious and I was only 21. I didn't know what "getting serious" really meant. I broke T's heart...and broke my own in the process. Many years later, about 2 years ago in fact, I wondered what it would have been like being married to T instead of to the Ex. Very different. Difficult, sure, I'm a strong believer in the fact that all marriages are difficult. But I think I would have been happier. But, of course, I'll never know.

We talked for the length of a red light. He said he wasn't on Facebook so I told him to join so we could talk. It's been 5 days and so far, no T.

Wait, folks, it gets better.

Friday, I ran into P, the one person with whom I've had a relationship since my divorce. I was paying for a sandwich and he got in line behind me. I nearly passed out when I saw him. Not because I missed him or even because I got nostalgic. It was because in the 18 months since we broke up, P lost a tooth. One of the front teeth. I mean, seriously. I'm a little fanatical about oral hygiene, but since I've only recently gotten over my deep-seeded fear of the dentist, I can totally understand the fear. But, as a 30-something, one should not be losing teeth; one should be doing whatever it takes to keep the teeth you have healthy. And if you do have the misfortune to lose one, particularly one in the front, get the damn thing replaced.

He asked me out 4 times in 10 minutes and finally I just had to walk away from him. I'm usually not in the business of calling men pathetic, but P's behavior was just that. We broke up because he had a ridiculously twisted co-dependence with his ex-wife. I want someone in my life who has his priorities in the right places: Children first, then the rest of his family, then me, then, in a distant 20th or 30th place, the needs and wants of an ex-spouse. Since his ex came before me, I took a hike. P's been trying to fix that mistake for 18 months. I just can't. There's that saying...Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. I'm not going to be fooled by that fool twice.

Seeing these 3 men in such a small period of time makes me wonder if the universe is trying to send me a sign or a message. Honestly, my mind and emotions are so scrambled right now, I couldn't see a sign or read a message if it were handed to me in plain English. There is so much going on in my life right now; both good and bad.

There are soccer games, birthday parties, all-day visits to friends' houses, movies to watch, books to read, cuddles to share and a really cool dog to walk. I enjoy seeing my friends get what they want and I know they will rejoice when they see me get what I want. There's also lots of ugly and nasty stuff going on, but I'm choosing to find and focus on the joy.

These 3 men and all others will have to wait a bit longer to be acknowledged. A dear friend of mine is on a 90 day Man Diet. My Man Diet has been going on for almost 2 years now. I miss being touched, being held, the passion, the soaring heat, the comfort...but now is not the time for me. That's the only message I've gotten lately that's coming in loud and clear, so that's the one I've got to bank on.

5 Things I Eat When I'm Alone

2010-09-08T15:08:00.004-04:00

Since I started blogging way back when, I've come to 2 very important and not at all related conclusions.

One is that I like blog entries that are actually lists. I REALLY like lists. They make my world make sense. I like things in numbered order and honestly, when it's a to-do list, I get a high-inducing adrenaline rush from tearing the sheet of paper with the list, balling it up and doing a basketball-type slam dunk in the kitchen garbage.

The other thing I've learned is that I use other people's ideas. I guess I've run out of ideas, so I blatantly steal them from others.

This entry's idea came from Melissa Clark.

So, here it goes...5 Things I Eat When I'm Alone

1- Chicken Parm. When my daughter is at her father's for an overnight visit or having a sleepover at her friend's house, I go to Nino's and get a chicken parm plate, complete with a little wedge of Italian bread and a wax envelope with a plastic fork and knife, salt, pepper and a small packet of grated Parmesan cheese. That Parmesan is different from this Parm. Parm is short for parmigiana...which is translated from the Italian to mean "lovingly smothered in marinara sauce and with divinely melted mozzarella on top." Anyway, the kid rarely eats anything in sauce and I get 3 meals out of a dinner from Nino's but if she ever gets the urge to try "pizza chicken" again, there are always leftovers in the fridge.

2- BLT's from the bagel store around the corner from my house. There are 2 bagel stores near where I live; one is great for egg sammies and cold cuts, but the other is great for BLT's. The bagels from the latter are more like rolls with a hole in the middle, so sandwiches aren't so messy to eat. I always get my BLT's on a toasted everything bagel. I bring a book with me and sit in a stool by the window and eat. I usually only read about 3 pages when I decide that I can stare out the window and relax and eat my sandwich without any interruptions.

3- Margaritas in the bathtub. Yes, I'm fully aware that margaritas aren't food, per se, but I only have them at home if I'm alone. I take a book (noticing a trend here?), lounge in a warm/cool bath (it all depends on the weather) and sip my margarita and just chill out. I usually don't read much in the tub; I've always been afraid of dropping a beloved book into the water. Anyway, margaritas never taste better than when you're naked...ummm...well, as I recall, they taste great when you're naked with a lover...but that's material for another post altogether.

4- This potato thing I made up. I thinly slice up some potatoes (red bliss, Yukon, whatever's in the house) and some onion. I brown some garlic in a pan and then add the potatoes and onions and toss 'em all up. Then I add whatever seasonings I have and that I like. Salt, pepper, oregano, thyme, chili powder, basil, parsley...whatever's in the cabinet. Cover the pan and let the steam cook the potatoes. Once the potatoes are soft, leave the cover off and let everything get all crispy and let the flavors blend. This dish never comes out the same way twice, but it's always satisfying. Sometimes I make some eggs to have with them, sometimes I'll just have a salad with them...but man, them taters are goooo-oood!!!

5- Lucky Charms. I LOVE Lucky Charms cereal! The kid doesn't like the marshmallows (I know, I think I should have her tested too) so they're mine, ALL MINE!! I don't share them with anyone. No one in my inner circle likes them and even if they did, they couldn't find them because I hide the box in the back of the pantry. I try to make sure that I get at least one marshmallow in every bite or it hardly seems worth eating. The milk MUST be ice cold and I eat it really fast because I hate soggy cereal.

So, there you have it folks, me and all of my food-related eccentricities.

What are the secret foods you only eat when you're alone?

The Power of Prayer

2010-08-09T09:26:00.002-04:00

I'm praying like the Dickens today.

A dear online friend is battling for her life. In March, she was diagnosed with breast cancer after feeling a lump during a self exam. She and her doctors immediately began planning her treatment. She went through chemotherapy but it didn't work.

Not discouraged, she went back the planning stage and began a new round of treatment, but it was discovered that she had tumors growing in the lungs.

Now, it seems that she has a brain tumor that has been deemed inoperable.

My heart is breaking for S. She has a toddler who many never get the chance to know how rockin' his mama really is. She's got a husband who is so devoted to her, it's probably best described by Janet (Chandler Bing's irritating ex-girlfriend from the sitcom Friends) who once said, "What we have is movie love, we're what Lionel Ritchie's been singing about."

They say the power of prayer is a very VERY powerful force. Man, I hope so. I feel sorry for all those damned cancer cells. They have the power of about 812 bajillion prayers to contend with today. S is not going to go without a fight and we won't let her go with doing the only thing we can.

So if you believe in the power of prayer, please PLEASE, pray for S...she could really use it.

A Simple Weekend

2010-08-02T12:38:00.005-04:00

I had such a simple weekend.

My daughter had 2 little girlfriends for a sleepover on Friday. These 2 gals are sisters and are just too sweet. They're well behaved and the older one and my daughter have known one another since their early day care days.

They decorated t-shirts with fabric markers, watched movies, ate pizza (but not the crust) and then all four of us cuddled up on the couch like a litter of newborn puppies to watch Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. On a side-note, the movie simply never gets old. When the Sorting Hat speaks for the first time, I always long for an admissions letter to Hogwarts; it doesn't matter that I'm no longer 11 and can't be accepted or that I'm 100% Muggle, I still want to go!

Anyway, on Saturday morning, we all walked the dog at 6am and then we all went to the library. The gals were noticeably upset when they were dropped off at home, but I promised we could do it again soon.

The day ran a muck with errands. We needed to get the car washed, we bought the dog a new collar, we had lunch in a restaurant that I started eating in when I was 6 years old and then we just took a nice drive with the windows rolled down.

Sunday dawned bright and we decided to head to the beach. I packed up some sunscreen, a few cold drinks, my beach chair and then wiggled my way into my new green tankini. I got what FRU and I call "rock star parking." That's when you find a fabulous parking spot mere steps from your destination. FRU frolicked around at the water's edge and quickly made friends with a little girl who was playing just a few feet away. The sky turned overcast just a hour or so later so we dashed to the car, just making it before the deluge hit.

We ate a late breakfast at McDonald's and I showed FRU the house where I grew up. We went home, showered and simply hung out all afternoon.

Sometimes a weekend doesn't have to be crammed full of activities in order to be deemed great. Sometimes just hanging out with a cool kid is enough (you get extra points is your are the parent of the aforementioned cool kid). Sometimes reminiscing about the old neighborhood and your childhood is enough. Sometimes it's knowing that the simplicities of life need to be recognized and enjoyed is enough.

There are times when I struggle to put one foot in front of the other, but these last few uncomplicated days were just what the doctor ordered. And as I was tucking FRU into bed last night, I asked what her favorite part of the weekend was and she replied, "The whole thing, because I was with you the whole time."

And that, my friends, is simplicity at its best.

Ask BB... or Tag, You're It

2010-07-21T10:57:00.006-04:00

I swiped this from my friend Jaxie, who is quite a bit younger than me, but is such an old soul, and a kindred spirit.

1) What is your personal style like? I've blogged about my obsession with make-up, but somehow, I don't think that this is what this question is about. I wear lots of jeans; man, how I wish I could wear them everyday. I work in an office, so I'm business casual when I'm at work. Brooklyn (and most of the Eastern seaboard of the US) is in a cycle of HOT and HUMID right now so I've been wearing little smock dresses and sandals or white khakis and a tank/cardigan sweater set combo most of the time. On the weekends, I wear Bermuda shorts (sure, they're stylish but to be honest, they cover up my one-day-shy-of-40-year-old thighs) and a cotton tank top. I do adore the cooler/colder weather though. I love sweaters, boots (both super casual Uggs and my knee high leathers) all brought together by the perfect pair of jeans. See, I'm back to jeans again.

2) How did you meet your best friend? I have several besties that fit in different categories. I met M on the first day of first grade. We lost touch after high school; big girl jobs do get in the way of having a proper social life sometimes. We reconnected on Facebook and when we got on the phone for the first time in over 10 years, an hour and a half flew by *SNAP* just like that. I met L at summer camp. We were summer sisters for about 5 years. She's living out in Colorado and when I see photos of her son, I see that mischievous grin that L wore all those years ago when we were out and about, running around camp after lights out. I met A when she looked at the apartment on the first floor of my parents' house. It was so fabulous to have your bestie in the same house. We used to have breakfast together on weekend mornings and we didn't even need to get out of our jammies to do it.

3) Describe your family. I come from a long line of crazy people. There was an episode of Designing Women where the character of Julia Sugarbaker explained that in the South, people didn't hide their crazy relatives up in the attic or down in the basement; they kept them crazy people right there in the living room or in the parlor. That's my family. Some are really mentally ill and some are just eccentric. Regardless, they always make the holidays interesting and the added bonus is that they make me look really really normal. We all eat too much, we laugh too loud, we argue politics ad nauseum, but we're fiercely loyal and have been known to make ice cream from scratch in an old-fashioned churner.

4) What's been the best day of your life so far? That distinction goes to the day my daughter was born. I gave birth via c-section on a Friday evening (and it was the 13th, insert evil laugh here) and I didn't actually hold FRU until the next day at about 12 noon. The nurse put her in my arms and time stopped for a bit. I held FRU's little finger and gazed upon FRU's little face and actually felt my heart grow. I knew at that moment that life would never be the same and I was so right.

5) What are you afraid of? Snakes. I don't know why exactly, it's not like Brooklyn has a large native snake population. But I look at a snake and I get the chills (not the good kind) and gag. I can't help it. I know snakes are one of God's creatures, but if they could stay hidden, I'd really appreciate it.

6) Cocktail of choice? Ooooo, I love this question! I love Captain Morgan and Coke Zero, a good margarita (rocks, no salt), Absolut Brooklyn and ginger ale and a ice cold Italian Pinot Grigio or California Chardonnay. Not all at once though, that would definitely NOT be pretty.

7) Favorite movie and why? My all-time favorite movie is West Side Story. It's the musical version of Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet made in 1961. It's the only movie to have 2 winners for Best Director. It's a combination of music, lyrics, joy, pain, anger and when you add Rita Moreno's Anita's purple dress that she wears to the dance, it makes things perfect.

8) If your life had a soundtrack, what are 5 songs that would be on it and when would they play? Scenes from an Italian Restaurant by Billy Joel because this song is just fabulous, Smile by Lily Allen because it reminds me of the trips with my girlfriends, Amazing Grace, the old southern hymn because it reminds me of my mother, Running on Empty by Jackson Browne because it reminds me of my father and Thank Heavens for Little Girls from the Gigi soundtrack because I used to sing this to FRU to put her to sleep.

9) Favorite book? Lonesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry. It is THE quintessential Great American novel. Nuff said.

10) Favorite TV show? True Blood. I don't watch a lot of TV anymore, but I never miss an episode of TB. It's part fantasy, part thriller and part history and part soap opera.

11) Quotes you live by? "...for nature gives to every time and reason, some beauties of its own..." by Charles Dickens.

12) If you could have a dinner party with any 5 people, dead or alive, who would they be? My grandmothers, my daughter, Eleanor of Aquitaine and Gregory Peck. Legal disclaimer: this list is subject to change.

13) Pet peeves? Purposeful stupidity, arrogance, those with lots of money showing off to those who don't, people being famous for infamous things (eg: Paris Hilton and all of the Kardashians), drivers who don't get out of my way when I want them to, people who don't return calls/texts, and tomato sauce with sugar in it.

14) Have any pets? I have an almost 3 y/o standard poodle named Rosie nee Gracie. I rescued her a year and a half ago and still rush home to see her. If you've never had a dog, you don't understand the pure joy that exudes when his/her master comes home. It's like Christmas, your birthday and Easter, all at once, every single day.

15) If you could change any one thing about yourself, what would it be? I've learned over the years to not live in the past, wish I had better hair or expect to be treated the same way I treat others. Life is meant to be lived. The good, the bad and the ugly will all make their presence known when the time is right. I don't think I'd change all that much. Well, maybe I'd have better hair.

Things I Am Obsessed With...

2010-07-08T13:46:00.004-04:00

I got this idea from another blog, but that writer's whole blog is about obsessions and I'm going to write about obsessions once. Well, maybe twice, but I promise to not write about obsessions until I'm over the things with which I'm currently obsessed, deal?

1- Books. I can't seem to stop buying books. My mom is a librarian so let's face it, this is a hard habit to justify. But hey, I only buy them with they're on the clearance tables, which is how I came to be in the possession of some really REALLY weird books. Ya know what, I'm not even going to try to justify this. I like books, just deal with it, k?

2- Mineral Makeup. I have horrible skin (and for those of you who have read old posts, I still occasionally break out with cystic acne) and the mineral makeup really helps stem the amount of crap that seeps into my pores on a daily basis. I have a few colors for when I'm pale and for when I'm tan. I think maybe I just really like the feeling of those fluffy brushes on my face.

3- Who Am I Kidding, I'm Obsessed With All Makeup. No really, I am. I ain't gonna try to justify this either.

4- Lindsay Lohan's Dying Career. She's like a car wreck, I can't help but gawk and point her ridiculousness out to others. How did such a promising talent get to the point where she had "Fuck You" painted on her middle finger for a court appearance?

5- The Duggars. OMG, seriously, Jim Bob/Bobby Earl or whatever your name is, you NEED to wear a condom occasionally. Don't hand me this line of crap about waiting until God has declared your quota. There's no way two parents can nurture the amount of children is takes to fill TWO baseball teams and it isn't the job of the older ones to take care of the little ones. Maybe Jim Bob/Bobby Earl or whatever his name is and his lovely wife with the badly grown out mullet are trying to not make up a sports team, but they're going for filling an ENTIRE stadium with their spawn.

6- My Mother's Retirement. Seriously, without exaggeration, we started talking about when my mother was going to retire in 1996. I think (fingers and toes are firmly crossed) the time has finally come. The only problem is that we don't have anything else to talk about. I guess we'll have to discuss our inner feelings or some lame shit like that.

7- Always Having Iced Coffee In The Fridge. I MUST have coffee and a shower every day to function. Nothing I say or do can be admissible in court if I haven't had both. But NYC's in the middle of a raging heat wave. So, I brew up my coffee double strength and then ice it down to there's always so caffeinated goodness to be had. It ain't as good as a steaming cup of coffee, but once my mascara is applied, I don't want it melted off by drinking a hot beverage on a hot day.

I think I'll stop there. I tend to get on a kick with something and then obsess about it till I can't stand it anymore.

For example, I LOVED the Twilight saga so the natural progression is to read The Host, which is also by Stephenie Meyer. I loved the Twilight books. I don't think Ms. Meyer is a brilliant writer, per se, but she is a wonderful storyteller. So, I get The Host. Whoa, I think I 'm going to live to regret the time it's taking me to complete it. It's a sci-fi/romance (which is a weird combination) about a alien (though in the book they're called Souls) that is implanted in a human body, but the host's (thus the title) memories and personality aren't completely erased. So the host and the human love the same man, all while trying to prevent a) more souls from being put in hosts and b) more hosts being controlled by foreign souls.

Yeah, I have a headache too. But I'm happy (and slightly embarrassed) to have less than 100 pages left till I can chuck this dopey book across the room in disgust.

Maybe I gave you something to think about. Or maybe you're just thankful to not be weird with odd tastes in books.

My First Post in About A Year...

2010-07-01T14:59:00.006-04:00

I had an amazing experience last weekend and felt compelled to write. I guess it helped that I was with two friends who are both writers. So here it goes:.

Healing from Blue Eyes

Sometimes, I get so worn down that I just get used to it. It becomes my new “normal.” I go from task to task with no recollection of how or if I finished anything. Laundry gets washed folded and put away, groceries are purchased, beds get made…but there’s no joy or even conscious knowledge that these things are complete.

Then, one day, the sun shines again. This time, for me, it arrived the in the shape of Melissa and Jenee. These women are 2 of the Ya Ya group that I met through that online book club/message board 5 years ago. We met up in the home city of one of the group for 3 years running and then the recession hit, some of us got divorced, some of us moved…in other words, life got in the way.

Anyway, back to sunshine’s arrival. They rolled into town on a Wednesday night and time seemed to be suspended for 4 whole days. The clocks didn’t tick. The only sign that time was passing were the pictures Jenee took of the view from my porch. There was one with the sun shining and one with a risen moon.

You must understand one thing about Ya Ya’s. When they hug your body, they hug your soul too. You don’t want them to let you go because it feels good and honest and safe when they’re hugging you. You just know they will help you slay any dragons that have the audacity to show their faces at the party and then will pour you a cool cocktail and hand you a cool compress for your forehead.

And for me, on this trip, the fellow dragon slayers had blue eyes.

Jenee’s bright, almost turquoise, blues dance with mischief. They help you get the eccentricities of her family. They share her joy of her soulmate/husband and they share her sadness of being without children. They glow when she’s talking about her writing. They even cross a little when she’s had too much whiskey.

Melissa’s blues remind of that beloved pair of jeans that fit perfectly…you know, the ones that hug every curve. Her eyes had a sadness that I wish I could erase, but they are so so wise. They reflect her love of all things masculine. They giggle with you when you’re acting silly and they can absorb everything in a room in 3 seconds flat.

I hadn’t seen these women in about 3 years so we had lots to catch up on. Oh Dear Lord in Heaven, did we talk! We yapped every morning and into the afternoon before one of us said, “Ok, let’s get going before we spend the day in our jammies and switch from coffee to booze.” We talked about, and this list is by no means inclusive, food, kids, cocktails, men, dogs, cars, books, girlfriends, shopping, shoes, dresses, parents/families, simple pleasures, music, movies, Seinfeld, health issues, drug addicts in Union Square and coffee.

We sweat, we laughed till there were tears, there was one leg with a cigarette burn, there was drunk dialing to Atlanta, there were stinky subways, there were street feet, there were parking issues, there were what seemed like 18 wash clothes and 47 towels in my bathroom, we drank, we ate Nathan’s hot dogs and drank beers on the beach (the way nature intended), there were fireworks (both in my heart and in the sky), we met new Ya Ya’s, there was lots of Facebooking…in other words, there was lots of stuff that was good for my soul.

These women don’t judge me. They don’t make me feel bad for my bad choices, they celebrate my good choices. They were patient with my daughter when she was talking their ears off. They scratched and cuddled my dog. They took beautiful pictures.

They both had long drives home, but hopefully the bliss of the weekend carried them over the miles that now lie between us.

As I cleaned up after their departure, I was happy. I consciously finished the laundry, washed the dishes and did general straightening. I checked each task off my mental list of things-to-do. When all the chores were complete, I showered, sliced myself a tomato and poured EVOO and balsamic over it and ate it on my porch. I tried to imagine what that view of the bridge would be like for the person who has never seen it before. When I got into bed that night, I was so refreshingly sleepy, not out-of-my-mind bleary-eyed exhausted. I slept the sleep of the blissful. I held the laughter and the sistah-friends’ blue eyed love with me. And for the first time in a long time, even though I was alone, I wasn’t lonely.

This I Believe...

2009-08-03T09:40:00.002-04:00

I got this idea from the essay series on NPR. I got to thinking about what I believe in and realized that my beliefs have changed drastically over the course of the last 2 or 3 years. When I ended my marriage, I believed it was my choice, and therefore my destiny, to not feel passion.

Feeling passion and fiery about things has always been a way of life for me. When I find a food I like, I eat it every day for weeks. When I find a movie I like, I watch it enough to repeat the character's dialogue. When I love a book, I'll read it over and over until it falls apart in my hands (at which point, I go out and buy a brand spanking new copy and repeat the process). I come from a rather opinionated family who talks, lectures and argues their points ad nauseum. I laughed too loud, cried too hard, felt pain too deeply.

For about a year after Ex moved out, I focused solely on making sure my daughter adjusted to her new life. She was never particularly close with Ex, but when their scheduled overnight visits came around, I wanted her to have a good time with him. I used what time she spent with Ex to heal. I went to the movies by myself, ate in restaurants while staring out the window, took long walks while contemplating my next move.

After 3 or 4 months of this (ok, ok, it was more like 9 or 10 months), I began to miss excitement. A friend of mine declared me "fun deprived" and told me I needed to get out more often. "But I go out!" I declared. She explained that I needed to find passion again. Not just with a man, but for my life, for food, books and music and for being a human in a complex world.

My friend is a genius.

I needed to stop existing. I slowly "came to life" again. When I did go out on dates, I became more choosy. I didn't eat the same thing over and over. I felt passion for my life again.

As I look back, I had a happy childhood. I had 2 loving parents (who, by the way, still love each other after 40 years) and although we weren't rich by any stretch of the imagination, I was given opportunities that few of my friends had. Maybe it's because I am an only child and maybe it's because my parents were the first in their families to attend college and knew there were amazing things out there to discover. I went to college and finished without student loan bills. I spent 7 months in Germany and traveled to 5 different countries while I was there. I had an amazing support system when I was planning my wedding and when I gave birth.

So, in a nutshell, this is what I believe. Passion should be a way of life. Don't just go through the motions. Dance in the produce section of the supermarket if a good song comes on. When you kiss someone, mean it. When you hug a friend, linger an extra second so that person knows you really care. When you scratch a dog, use 2 hands and don't stop till they smile. Go ahead, laugh too loud!!

Passion isn't always about romance...it's about living a meaningful life, paying it forward, replenishing your reserves, coloring with crayons (by the way, it's perfectly ok to go outside the lines) and surrounding yourself with love.

Some Guidelines on How to be a Good Grown-Up

2009-02-25T14:35:00.004-05:00

Without spewing venom from my mouth and brain, I'll do my best to not launch into a long-winded tirade.

~~~

Why can't people simply ask a question or favor without being mean-spirited, obnoxious, condescending or some combination of all three? Seriously. People, when you talk to someone, do it with respect and you'll be flabbergasted with how thoughtful and hmmm, what's the word I'm looking for...ummm, oh yeah, respectful your responses will be.

If you ask a favor from someone and they can't do it for whatever reason, don't then make it that person's problem and issue just because you're too damn lazy to do the task yourself.

If you are not someone's parent or supervisor, do not ask that person to do something out of "common courtesy." Do the courteous thing and not ask anything that is inappropriate, against the rules, none of your business or some combination of all three.

Regardless of who you happen to be sitting and chatting with at any given moment, it is impolite to answer your cell phone. Seriously, let the call go to voicemail or tell the caller that it is not a good time to chat. Why would a call be more important than a face-to-face conversation? Unless the caller is telling you he/she is dead and needs you to go pick up their body, there really isn't a good reason. The rule about having a conversation via text is still with the jury; I'll get back to you about that issue when the verdict is in.

Do not overindulge any children for whom you are legally responsible. Nieces, nephews, young cousins, godchildren and children of friends are ok to indulge, but don't overindulge those from whom you want/need respect. You need to be a parent/guardian to your kids, not their friend. There will be time enough to relate to one another when the kids are grown.

And last but not least, dress appropriately. Nothing looks sadder or uglier than a 40-ish year old person trying to dress like a teenager.

Chores, Errands and Tasks

2009-02-19T07:47:00.004-05:00

Why is it that the more free time I have the more stuff I need to do?

I took off this week because FRU is on winter break from school (Ex will take spring break in April) and I thought it would seem like the perfect time to catch up on a few things.

Jeez, who knew I was so far behind!

On Sunday, We spent the day at my cousin's house so Gracie could get socialized with her dogs. Gracie did quite well, but one of my cousin's dogs, Bella (a 2 1/2 year old pit bull mix) was OUT OF CONTROL. This little spitfire gal was screeching and jumping and tear-assing across the floor, and finally my cousin gave up and had to leash her. To put this in perspective, Gracie is about 25 inches high at the withers and weighs about 46 pounds (yeah, she's underweight, she didn't get enough to eat at that farm, don't get me started on this!). Bella is half her size, but they weigh THE SAME! Bella is a short, stocky gal made of solid muscle and Gracie is much taller and a little more, well, graceful, no pun intended.

My cousin also had an 11 year old Labrador mix named Duke, whom we refer to as Duke the Diplomat. Duke is everything you'd want in a dog, he's perfectly trained and such a joy. He's getting up there in years and honestly, I don't want to have to be the one to tell my cousin when he takes his walk over The Rainbow Bridge.

Here's an example of his diplomacy: Last summer, my cousin had a camp-out with the whole family in her backyard. My 83 year old grandmother thought it would be fun to have everyone sleep out in the backyard, have a camp-fire, grill up some burgers and dogs and then have a HUGE country style breakfast in the morning. We were all drinking margaritas all day and when it was finally time for everyone to bed down, FRU got in the tent with my cousin, put her pillow up against Duke's belly (he was already laying down in the tent's corner), covered herself with her blankie and went to sleep. My cousin said that Duke didn't move a muscle until 8 hours later when FRU woke up. He just stood up, went outside, shook himself out and went off to find a nice discreet corner of the yard to take care of his morning business. My cousin said it was quite clear that he really had to go, but he wouldn't think of moving till my little one was awake.

OK, sorry for going off on a tangent like that...

Monday, FRU & I went to spend the day at my friend's house. 3 other junior high school friends came with their children and there were 5 adults and 8 kids. One other child was home, she's battling a cold. OMG, I laughed, reminisced, shed a tear or two, compared memories and sat in awe and wondered how these junior high school students could possibly be married with kids and jobs and mortgages...oh yeah, they grew up, just like I did...but all I saw were their young gorgeous faces and their innocence. After I left, I made a trip to Target since my friend lives only about 5 minutes away. I'd like to take this opportunity to tell the world that I, Laura, actually got out of Target after spending, get this...$31.32!!! That's an all-time record. And half of that was stuff for my mother. Seriously, this is BIG. I usually spend at least $100 and most of that is spent on stuff I don't need.

Tuesday, FRU went to the "Big Girl" salon with my mother for her first real haircut. No videos, no chairs shaped like race cars, no lollipops. She was thrilled. The hairdresser did a great job on her hair and it gave FRU a chance to spend quality time her grandmother. I used that time to get a much-needed fill on my nails and then I took FRU for lunch at McDonald's and she played in the play area. In the afternoon, I took FRU to get her first cavity filled. She's got 4 cavities that need attention, but one in particular needed to be taken care of right away. I never had a cavity until after I got my braces off when I was 18.

Yesterday, FRU spent the whole day with my mother while she was doing library programs at a local military base. FRU had a friend came with her and Mom said that she was sooooo good. I then had an eye doctor's appointment and had to take FRU with me. FRU must have tried on 84,000 pairs of glasses and even went to far as to pick a pair out for herself...if the need for her to wear glasses ever arises.

Lo and behold, we have absolutely NO PLANS today. In fact, as I write this, FRU is still fast asleep. I've been awake for 2 hours already, I've walked the dog and I've consumed a half a pot of coffee.

Tomorrow, FRU has a doctor's appointment in the morning and then we have the day to goof around.

It just seems that whenever I pass a store, or see an ad or read a magazine, I think of something else that needs to be done. There's always laundry to be done, food to be shopped for or prepared, floors to be swept or mopped, beds to be made, bills to be paid. I never seem to have enough time to just be Laura. I'm always the mom, the assistant, the daughter, the dog-walker and chauffeur, and the housekeeper.

I try to not let these tasks define me. I try to get out and do things that are just for me occasionally. I like to go to the movies by myself every once in a while, I like to shut the TV off and read in silence, and sometimes I just get in the car and drive to nowhere special.

I know I need to do these things for myself. If I don't then when I retire, I won't know how to entertain myself. I don't want to depend on FRU for my entertainment. I want us to be 2 separate selves who love and respect one another.

Until that happens, I'll be the task-master, knowing that I'm doing my best to take care of those around me.

Family of Choice

2009-02-08T19:16:00.003-05:00

I love this phrase. It describes the people in my life who are second mothers to me and who are like sisters (both older and younger) to me.

My mother has worked for the public library for well over 30 years and has had many many colleagues who have become wonderful friends over the years. I look up to some of these women and and thankful that they have been such reliable and special friends to my mother all this time. Some were at my wedding, some gave me handmade baby gifts when FRU was born and some have held my mother up when my father and I weren't enough.

A dear friend of mine and I just reconnected after a 10 year hiatus. She gave me the sad news that her mother passed away about 8 years ago. This woman was someone that I could always turn to, especially when I was "at war" with my own mother during my tumultuous adolescence. She gave me one of the most valuable pieces of dating advice I ever got: You can always live with a man's good, you have to see if you can live with his bad. If I had only listened to that advice more often, I might not have made a few regrettable errors.

I have this other friend who I met on an on-line book club and she calls me her big sister. We are as close as you can be to someone without seeing them all the time. Jaxie asks for help, she likes to talk about her sweet nephews and nieces and I really miss her when I don't get a chance to log in and chat.

I have a friend who is as different from me as she can be. She was born in Haiti, raised in Montreal, is a gifted doctor, speaks two languages, and has probably lived in 7 or 8 countries so far. Yet, we never run out of things to talk about. She is one of the least judgmental people I have ever known. Maybe that's from being a compassionate doctor, but honestly, I think it's because that's just who she is at her core.

I haven's spoken to my mother's side of my family in over two years. There was an incident I refer to as The Nastiness of Christmas 2006." I won't go into details, but suffice it to say, I'm down 8 family members. I really miss only one, and that's the one that breaks my heart. My cousin, K, also broke the heart of my mother and that's what is most unforgivable. My mother and I have loved this cousin like no one else ever had. She went through the ugliest abuse that anyone can ever imagine at the hand of another family member and we helped her confront her "demons." But since this same family supports her and pays her bills and college tuition, they get to call the shots. It is obvious to me that she has been told not to have contact with us. I wish her well, but you don't get to turn your back on me and then waltz back in when it's convenient. Money can cure many problems, but not broken hearts.

As a member of Al-Anon, I picked up the phrase "Family of Choice" from a long-time member with many years of recovery under her belt. She had a crazy, dysfunctional childhood and made the difficult choice to detach herself from her family and surround herself with beloved friends, her family of choice.

I loved this phrase. It reminded me that while I am missing a part of my blood family, I have many, many people who can fill my life with joy and laughter and love. FRU has countless aunts and uncles who step up to the plate, ask about her well-being and want to see her often.

I know I have said it before many times in this blog, but I consider myself so lucky. I don't have a job that pays tremendously well, I have a failed marriage and I don't recall ever winning at slots. I have my luck in other ways: I have a support system that I can count on whenever I need them, I have great medical coverage and job security and I have a Family of Choice to turn to when things get rough or when I'm overwhelmed or I want to cry.

I'll take that over a bucket of quarters any day.

A Furry Child

2009-02-02T11:06:00.006-05:00

So, FRU & I added to our family on this past Saturday.

Meet Gracie, the Wonder Standard Poodle:
Gracie has had a rough go of it so far.

She was born to a private breeder on 10/5/07 and was in that home for 6 months. At that point, she was placed with a man who wanted to show her and her brother. Gracie, you see, comes from champion stock and it seemed only natural for her breeder to want to place her with someone who would show her.

This man (he's an animal, no pun intended) then, for some phantom reason, neglected these poor creatures. Thankfully, he's in jail right now, serving a sentence for animal cruelty. Gracie and her brother were returned to their breeder. Gracie's brother was adopted a day or two later.

Last Wednesday, I started making some phone calls to see if I could rescue a Standard Poodle. FRU has wanted her own dog almost as long as she's alive and I've been researching the best breed for us for about 4 months. I told FRU that she had to wait till spring and I fully expected it would take me at least that long to find a dog.

The planets must have all lined up properly b/c on the very first phone call, I heard about Gracie and her horrible puppyhood at the farm with that man. The first woman I spoke to gave me the number of a dear friend of Gracie's breeder and gave me some information and the breeder's phone number. So, in three phone calls, I made what turned out to be the connection that would lead me to puppy love (even if Gracie isn't technically a puppy anymore).

I drove to the Jersey Shore on Saturday with a friend of mine and truth be told, it was love at first site for me. She was scared and sticking to her mama. The breeder still proudly owns Gracie's mother, Lucy. Lucy was in a show coat with an adorable pom pom on her head, but Gracie had to be shaved down because her coat was so matted from being neglected. Poodle coats need lots and lots of attention and the man who had her did nothing in terms of grooming.

So I got her in the car and drove home to Brooklyn, stopping to pick up some supplies like a crate and some treats and toys.

When FRU called me, she went BALLISTIC when she heard I was bringing Gracie home. She was a little pissed off at me because I wouldn't let her come with me to meet Gracie. I didn't want to have to tell FRU that we couldn't bring the dog home if I got a funny feeling or if she seemed aggressive. But she was soooooo happy to hear that Gracie was ours.

Gracie spent most of Saturday cowering in her crate, with a completely bewildered expression on her face. By yesterday, she had calmed down a bit with FRU & I. She would sleep near my feet when things got quiet and she even played a bit with FRU.

I think this dog has tremendous potential to be a great pet. I will get her spayed; no need to have 6 or 8 little Gracie's running around, is there? I just want her to know that we aren't going to hurt her. She was so traumatized but her previous experiences that it will take several weeks for her to really settle down.

But hey, I'm patient...

Some of the Great Truths of Parenthood...

2009-01-20T09:23:00.001-05:00

...as I have learned so far...

*If you give a child a small cup of juice and tell them they can have more when they finish what they have, they won't drink it. They'll exclaim that they're a big boy/girl and demand that you fill the cup. When you cave and pour more in the cup, they will spill EVERY SINGLE DROP on the kitchen or dining room floor you just washed.

*You no longer have any qualms about using the lavatory with an audience. In fact, when you go to a restaurant and lock the stall behind you, it seems odd to take care of your business in peace.

*At some point, you will wake up with a child's face 4 cm from your own and their eyes will be staring at you so intensely that you will recoil in fear.

*It doesn't phase you one bit when a crayon goes through the washing machine and the bits of the wrapper are all over the clothes; it only pisses you off if the crayon isn't discovered before the clothes go into the dryer.

*Once you finally figure out exactly what your child will and will not eat, they will change the lists, without cc'ing you on the memo so you haven't a clue until you've made something that is now on the "I ain't eating that" list.

*There will come a time when you're so desperate to get your errands done that it doesn't matter that your child is dressed in a princess/super hero costume and is carrying a magic wand/thermo-nuclear powered bad guy zapper. You will get your errands done but you'll get stared at...a lot.

*Once in a while, letting a child eat a cupcake for dinner is perfectly acceptable...especially if your mental health/stability depends on it.

*Loud noises don't get you worked up anymore, and blood only gets you upset if it comes from an injury that can be classified as a "gusher." If it is a gusher, then go get a paper towel, some cold water, a few adhesive bandages (the child will invariably find a few other injured body parts that will desperately need bandaging, like a paper cut from 3 weeks prior), anti-bacterial ointment and a few cookies. Give the child the cookies to eat so they'll stop screaming so loudly that they can be heard 3 states away. You can probably figure out what to do with the rest of the stuff, right?

*Once you have a child, you start praying more. Here's an example: O, Dear Lord, In Heaven, please make this child stop screaming and go to sleep before I shove a steak knife in each ear.

In all seriousness, I love my daughter with every cell in my body. I know I was supposed to have that child at that particular point in time. She is funny, smart, sassy as all hell, thoughtful, a bit shy at times, and a good sleeper for the most part (thank heavens!). There are times when she makes me absolutely batty but then she says something that will make me laugh out loud.

This is parenthood.

You have to be able to shift priorities in a nanosecond. You have to pick your battles wisely. You have to be vigilant about the lessons and values you want to instill in your children. You need to know when to leave a child to their tantrum. You need to pass on the little tidbits of information/knowledge to other parents. You need to be able to not sweat the small stuff.

And it also helps if you have a well-developed sense of humor and if you hide your breakables.

Old Habits Die Hard

2009-01-18T09:23:00.000-05:00

So, I leaped into the 21st century 2 weeks ago (which is new and exciting for me, since I usually leap in the Century 21 department store) and joined Facebook. I have this gang of girlfriends who all goofed around on myspace so I made a page and then they all jumped to Facebook. Look, I'm a single mom who works full-time, how many of these social networking sites do I need? Apparently, just one more.

So I set up a Facebook page and OMG!! I'm reconnecting with people I went to summer camp, to junior high school with, people I worked with. It's truly amazing.

I chatted with the boy I sat next to in 7th grade homeroom, sent emails to my summer sister, and saw pictures of grown-ups who look an awful lot like the kids of my childhood.

I even reconnected with my first best friend; M and I met the first day of first grade and remained friends for 20 or so years. We dried one another's tears, helped heal broken hearts, discovered the joys of make-up and hair mousse, ate french fries AND onion rings from Roll N'Roaster and laughed our asses off so many times I don't think they can be counted using modern technology.

So we decided to get together with coffee and M invited a few others. G, who I was always friends with too, S, who I met through M and who actually was in my bridal party and J, who is an old boyfriend of mine...and an old boyfriend of M too.

S & J couldn't make it, but G and I went to M's and assumed the position....we gathered around the kitchen table, cups filled with hot caffeinated nectar mixed to our own specifications, and started talking...and talking...and talking. I swear, the last 10 years melted away. M is married with 2 kids and G is in a long-term relationship. We talked about men (ok, boys), finances, friendships, freaks we no longer hang out, my divorce, G's hesitation re: her relationship...and about 84,000 other things too.

Then the doorbell rang. M was babysitting for 4 kids and we just guessed it was one set of parents or the other. But lo and behold, in walks Jason! I haven't seen him in about 10 or 12 years. We went out for about 6 months in '94 and when we broke up, we actually remained friendly.

So, when Jason walks into a room, the party gets kicked up a notch. Within 5 minutes, I was laughing so hard I was honking, I couldn't catch my breath and yet another whole slew of memories were emerging (does anyone know exactly how many are in a slew? I need to know when one slew is complete so another one can get started). He's married and said that his wife would love me. She's got to be made of pretty strong stock to be married to Jason so I think I'll love her too.

M's husband kinda moved in and out of the room, sometimes listening, sometimes not, just kind of absorbing all that was being said.

It's not the the significant others don't matter, they absolutely do. But we were a group before there were significantly significant others. We had a friendship in place for years and years. M and G saw me through a whole mess of crap I'd rather forget. J knows some of my secrets too. I know I'm safe with this gang. I can be myself and not be judged.

I get all this and people who know how I take my coffee...man, I'm one lucky girl, dontcha think?

What is Beauty?

2009-01-15T09:01:00.000-05:00

Anyone who knows the real Laura knows I am a cosmetics whore. I stroll the make-up aisles of drugstores, Macy's and Sephora as if the mother-ship was calling me home. I love trying new formulas, colors and brands.

I wasn't always like this. There was a time in high school when I was scraping the bottom of the tube of Cappuccino Chrome lipstick, trying to get yet one more application out of it. The color was discontinued and I was devastated. HOW COULD THEY? It was the one color that I absolutely adored and then POOF!! it was gone...

Since then, I never got attached to any one lipstick. Matte Fresco, Amande Sucre and I had a 3 year threesome before Lancome shitcanned those shades too.

My beauty routines have waxed and waned over the years.

The summer after I finished junior high school, Mom decreed that I was allowed to wear make-up every day, but never black eyeliner or red lipstick (technically speaking, I still don't have permission to wear black liner or red lipstick, but I always was a rebel!!). My make-up consisted of light blue frosted liner and frosted lavender eye shadow with lipstick that was a shade of pink that I don't think occurs in nature. Thank God I was a little camera shy in those days so there aren't many photographic images of that weird look.

But I was a sleep-away camp girl so I spent 2 solid summer months in t-shirts, ratty cut-offs and sweat socks with holes in the toes. My sneakers were a experiment in mold and mildew (how I never got athlete's foot I'll never know) and I always wore my hair in a pony-tail with a Mack Trucks baseball hat on backwards. If it was cool at night, I threw on a flannel shirt. That was the uniform. The only time it ever wavered was the year I switched from Reeboks to Nikes. Truth be told, I haven't worn a pair of Reeboks since the summer of '85.

Once the school year started, I started primping again. Styling my long feathered hair with a half a can of Aqua Net (that hole in the ozone layer can be attributed to the female residents of Brooklyn in the 1980's) and carefully applying coat after coat of mascara to "Tarantula Eyes" perfection.

When I started college, I was in classes with girls from the Dominican Republic, the Philippines, Russia, Brazil and about 50 or 60 other exotic distant lands. My manufactured Brooklyn look seemed so...so manufactured...so Brooklyn. I started wearing clothes that were way out of my comfort zone...like long flowing sundresses and short skirts with black tights with cowboy boots.

Once I got my first real office job, my routine changed again. I wore "classic, sheer" make-up and tailored suits. Yawn...so boring. I wore sheer, matte eye shadow with brown eyeliner and sheer nude lipstick. My mascara was always thick, but I gave up the Tarantula Eyes thing. When I got married in 1998, I wore this same make-up palette, but with slightly darker shades. I looked beautiful, classic...that's what I was aiming for so I guess that's not a bad thing.

Then, I had a baby. Talk about having your simple structured life being thrown for a loop. I went weeks without make-up, even mascara...GASP!! My priorities shifted and my morning routine shifted too. No more spending 15 or 20 minutes beautifying one's self. There were diapers to change, formula to mix, walks to take.

When FRU was 13 months old, I returned to work and she went to day care. I vowed to keep things simple: I would pack the diaper bag/lunch without rushing, I'd lay out our clothes the night before and I would find 10 minutes to consume my 1st cup of coffee sitting down like a normal person (by the way, what makes a person normal? I don't know a single normal person, so I'm not sure exactly what I should be striving for).

Anyway, before I knew it, my morning routine got a little complex, mostly as a result of the debut of about 6 new mascaras, all with different brushes for different effects. Again, I was getting signals from the mother ship that this was the only way to beautify. Pile on the mascara coats and hope it doesn't rain or that I don't walk past a television showing the final scene in Beaches. If either one of those things happens, that mascara was going to form 2 black barcode-like images on my cheeks.

Then I discovered cream eye shadow, shadow primer, Bare Escentuals foundation, Mac Viva Glam V lipstick...and my routine got infinitely more complicated. I was spending almost 40 minutes applying make-up. At a certain point, I had to look at myself in the eye and remind my reflection that I'm not a 70's country & western music star and to put down the applicator brushes and step away from the mirror.

I'm pleased to announce that I listened to myself, for the most part.

Now, my usual routine is an extensive cleansing (I still break out in cystic acne, YEAH...I'm 38 years old, when the hell is that shit gonna stop!), mineral foundation, a little blush, liner and mascara...I just can't give the stuff up. I have blond lashes that need all the help they can get...at least that's what I keep telling myself.

The Joy of Coffee

2008-12-05T09:19:00.000-05:00

Every family has that thing that they like to do together.

Some families hunt and fish. Some family raise and ride horses. Some families own successful businesses. Some families take their vacations together.

Not mine. We...drink coffee. It's the one thing that binds us all together. When we get together for holidays, we go through several urns, and each urn contains 30 cups. None of those little 8 oz. cups for us, we drink it out of 16 or 20 oz. styrofoam cups and although we always start with the best intentions of putting our names on the cups so we only use one each, we go through a whole package of cups in one day. The problem of styrofoam not breaking down in the landfills and taking up too much room can probably be directly traced back to my family parties.

Winter, spring, summer or fall...always coffee, always hot. If anyone drinks iced coffee in the summer, they hide that fact from the family at parties. Even if it's the dog days of summer, that urn is pumping out our molten, caffeinated goodness.

I recently heard a story about when my great uncle passed away in 1985. Two of my younger cousins were horsing around at the wake and one of the older cousins took them on a walk so they could calm down a bit. All three of them walked into a deli and when the counterperson asked what they wanted, they replied, in unison, "Ten coffees." Apparently, this counterperson nearly had a stroke and repeatedly asked, "Are you sure you want TEN coffees?" It seemed like a resonable request in my family, even considering that the 2 younger ones were only about 8 years old at the time.

Then there's the story of the family headed to a music festival in Philly. There were about 8 of them and about half were taking their own sweet ass time getting ready to go to breakfast. Then, it seems, my father had an A-HA moment. He took off to the car like his pants were on fire and returned with a thermos of coffee that was brewed the morning before. It had been stashed under the driver's seat and he poured it into the attached cup and promptly begain sipping. Uncle B caught him and said, "What, you holding out on me?" Dad shared with Uncle B while my poor mother gagged. If they had already eaten breakfast, Mom definitely would have tossed her cookies. She didn't view the day-old coffee as the hot commodity Uncle clearly believed it to be.

My cousin P, was ordering his own "extra milk coffee" at the deli counter at the age of 3. I took regularly scheduled coffee breaks with my grandmother after pre-school. My father once had an espresso and an espresso ice in one sitting at Ferrera's in NYC's Little Italy. And for the record, that was probably the only time he had trouble sleeping.

Yeah, we love coffee and are all addicted to it...but hey, it's legal, it's safer than crack and it brings us all to the table to laugh and reminisce every once in a while. How bad can that be?

It's That Time of Year Again...

2008-12-03T10:04:00.000-05:00

It's time to drag out all of those decorations from the time of yore (when the hell was yore exactly, I can't find it on a calendar). It's time to get bat-shit over the what to buy for your kid's uncle's dog-walker's nephew's girlfriend. It's time to bake 812 million cookies (that you promptly give away 'cause the smell of them reminds of all the arguments you had with the person you baked them with). It's time to start the pine needles' annual march to that soapdish in the bathtub (seriously, how do they get in there?).

And it's time to wonder, yet again, if you're adopted.

Thanksgiving is the start of what I've begun to call Doubting Season. It's the start of a time when the family gets together 3 times in 5 weeks (Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years) and as soon as the ball in Times Square drops, you make a solemn vow not to see these wackjobs till July 4th!!

It all started with a casual comment made by Uncle B. He asked when my father and Uncle M want to start training for the Scottish Heavy Games. The whole table, and we were 16 people, all snapped their heads to stare at him. Truth be told, more than one of us cocked our heads like a dog who's hearing a loud squeak. Several events of the Scottish Heavy Games are predessors to some Olympic events. The Javelin came from the Caber Throw and the Shot-Put came from the Stone Toss. Mind you, the shot-put is usually between 12 and 19 pounds and the stone is 56 pounds, but I digress. Oh, yeah...I forgot the best part...all of the events are performed while wearing the traditional Scottish mens' attire...the kilt.

Are you picturing it? Full-grown men, American Men, throwing HUGE objects, while wearing skirts. Yeah, I thought it was pretty funny too...and I'll give you a minute to stop laughing and compose yourselves...

Poor Uncle B, he was rather serious about this. Uncle M and my father were actually considering indulging him. I decided at that point that my contribution would be to exercise my right thumb and index finger so I could dial 911 on my cell in record time. These guys are all over 50 and truth be told my father is closer to retirement age than 50. They're big strapping guys, but not in peak physical condition. Who smokes, who takes blood pressure pills, whose idea of exercise is walking to the corner deli for ice cream rather than driving...this is a catastrophe in the making.

Also, there is a set of events that are similar to the Scottish Heavy Games that are played in Scandinavia. My cousin must have been thinking of this when he piped into the merriment that my father and uncles were going to have to change their names to Sven, Lars and Olaf. I swear, I snorted gravy through my sinuses when he said that. This cousin is usually very shy and soft-spoken but I think he was thrilled not to be invited to train with the older guys so he was perking up. I haven't laughed that hard in ages.

After that, things got serious. They were bummed they hadn't brought their datebooks so their could synchronize their schedules and they were wondering just how good their medical coverage was, you know, in case of an emergency. Uncle B, when asked what he hoped to accomplish said, "Well, we don't have to win the first year."

I had an intense need to clear the table at that point. I was piling up dishes, wondering when these guys were going to come to their senses.

Yeah, it's that time of year again...time when you look around the holiday dinner table, see the physical similarities between you and your family members, remind yourself that you really truly belong to this lot of oddballs and start timing yourself to see how fast you have an ambulance at the front door.

The Movie Survey

2008-11-28T19:11:00.000-05:00

SUPPOSEDLY if you've seen over 90 movies, you have no life. Mark the ones you've seen. There are 239 movies on this list. Copy this list if you want and pass it around. Then, put x's next to the movies you've seen, add them up, change the header adding your number, and click post at the bottom. Have fun!

(x) Rocky Horror Picture Show
(x) Grease
(x) Pirates of the Caribbean
() Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest
() Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World's End(
( ) Boondock Saints
(x) Fight Club
( ) Starsky and Hutch
( ) Neverending Story
(x) Blazing Saddles
(x) Airplane
Total: 6

(x) The Princess Bride
( ) AnchorMan
( ) Napoleon Dynamite
(x) Labyrinth
( ) Saw
( ) Saw II
( ) White Noise
(x) White Oleander
(x) Anger Management
(x) 50 First Dates
(x) The Princess Diaries
( ) The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement
Total so far: 12

( ) Scream
( ) Scream 2
( ) Scream 3
( ) Scary Movie
( ) Scary Movie 2
( ) Scary Movie 3
( ) Scary Movie 4
(x) American Pie
(x ) American Pie 2
(x) American Wedding
( ) American Pie Band Camp
Total so far: 15

(x) Harry Potter 1
(x) Harry Potter 2
(x) Harry Potter 3
(x) Harry Potter 4
( ) Harry Potter 5
( ) Resident Evil 1
( ) Resident Evil 2
(x) The Wedding Singer
( ) Little Black Book
( ) The Village
(x) Lilo & Stitch
Total so far: 21

(x) Finding Nemo
(x) Finding Neverland
( ) Signs
(x) The Grinch
( ) Texas Chainsaw Massacre
( ) Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning
( ) White Chicks
( ) Butterfly Effect
(x) 13 Going on 30
( ) I, Robot
( ) Robots
Total so far: 25

( ) Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story
( ) Universal Soldier
( ) Lemony Snickt: A Series Of Unfortunate Events
( ) Along Came Polly
( ) Deep Impact
( ) KingPin
(x) Never Been Kissed
(x) Meet The Parents
(x) Meet the Fockers
( ) Eight Crazy Nights
( ) Joe Dirt
(x) King Kong
Total so far: 29

(x) A Cinderella Story
(x) The Terminal
( ) The Lizzie McGuire Movie
( ) Passport to Paris
(x) Dumb & Dumber
( ) Dumber & Dumberer
( ) Final Destination
( ) Final Destination 2
( ) Final Destination 3
( ) Halloween
( ) The Ring
( ) The Ring 2
( ) Surviving X-MAS
( ) Flubber
Total so far: 32

( ) Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle
(x) Practical Magic
(x) Chicago
( ) Ghost Ship
( ) From Hell
( ) Hellboy
( ) Secret Window
(x) I Am Sam
(x) The Whole Nine Yards
( ) The Whole Ten Yards
Total so far: 36

(x) The Day After Tomorrow
( ) Child's Play
( ) Seed of Chucky
( ) Bride of Chucky
(x) Ten Things I Hate About You
( ) Just Married
( ) Gothika
( ) Nightmare on Elm Street
(x) Sixteen Candles
(x) Remember the Titans
( ) Coach Carter
( ) The Grudge
( ) The Grudge 2
(x) The Mask
( ) Son Of The Mask
Total so far: 41

( ) Bad Boys
( ) Bad Boys 2
( ) Joy Ride
( ) Lucky Number Seven
(x) Ocean's Eleven
(x) Ocean's Twelve
(x) Ocean's Thirteen
(x) Bourne Identity
(x) Bourne Supremecy
( ) Lone Star
(x) Bedazzled
( ) Predator I
( ) Predator II
( ) The Fog
(x) Ice Age
(x) Ice Age 2: The Meltdown
(x) Curious George
Total so far: 50

(x) Independence Day
( ) Cujo
(x ) A Bronx Tale
( ) Darkness Falls
( ) Christine
(x) ET
( ) Children of the Corn
( ) My Bosses Daughter
(x) Maid in Manhattan
( ) War of the Worlds
(x) Rush Hour
(x) Rush Hour 2
Total so far: 55

( ) Best Bet
(x) How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
(x) She's All That
(x) Calendar Girls
(x) Sideways
( ) Mars Attacks
( ) Event Horizon
(x) Ever After
(x) Wizard of Oz
(x) Forrest Gump
( ) Big Trouble in Little China
(x) The Terminator
( ) The Terminator 2
( ) The Terminator 3
Total so far: 63

( ) X-Men
( ) X2
( ) X-3
(x) Spider-Man
( ) Spider-Man 2
( ) Spider-Man 3
( ) Sky High
( ) Jeepers Creepers
( ) Jeepers Creepers 2
(x ) Catch Me If You Can
(x) The Little Mermaid
(x) Freaky Friday
( ) Reign of Fire
( ) The Skulls
( ) Cruel Intentions
( ) Cruel Intentions 2
( ) The Hot Chick
(x) Shrek
(x) Shrek 2
Total so far: 69

( ) Swimfan
(x) Miracle on 34th street
( ) Old School
(x) The Notebook
( ) K-Pax
( ) Krippendorf's Tribe
(x) A Walk to Remember
(x) Ice Castles
( ) Boogeyman
(x) The 40-Year-Old-Virgin
Total so far: 74

(x) Lord of the Rings Fellowship of the Ring
(x) Lord of the Rings The Two Towers
(x) Lord of the Rings Return Of the King
(x) Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark
(x) Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
(x) Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
Total so far: 80

( ) Baseketball
( ) Hostel
( ) Waiting for Guffman
( ) House of 1000 Corpses
( ) Devils Rejects
() Elf
( ) Highlander
( ) Mothman Prophecies
(x) American History X
( ) Three
Total so Far: 81

( ) The Jacket
( ) Kung Fu Hustle
( ) Shaolin Soccer
( ) Night Watch
(x) Monsters Inc.
(x) Titanic
(x) Monty Python and the Holy Grail
( ) Shaun Of the Dead
( ) Willard
Total so far: 84

( ) High Tension
( ) Club Dread
( ) Hulk
(x) Dawn Of the Dead
(x) Hook
(x) Chronicle Of Narnia The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe
( ) 28 days later
(x) Orgazmo
( ) Phantasm
(x) Waterworld
Total so far: 89

( ) Kill Bill vol 1
( ) Kill Bill vol 2
( ) Mortal Kombat
( ) Wolf Creek
(x) Kingdom of Heaven
( ) the Hills Have Eyes
( ) I Spit on Your Grave aka the Day of the Woman
( ) The Last House on the Left
( ) Re-Animator
( ) Army of Darkness
Total so far: 90

(x) Star Wars Ep. I The Phantom Menace
( ) Star Wars Ep. II Attack of the Clones
( ) Star Wars Ep. III Revenge of the Sith
(x ) Star Wars Ep. IV A New Hope
(x) Star Wars Ep. V The Empire Strikes Back
(x) Star Wars Ep. VI Return of the Jedi
( ) Ewoks Caravan Of Courage
( ) Ewoks The Battle For Endor
Total so far: 94

(x) The Matrix
(x ) The Matrix Reloaded
( ) The Matrix Revolutions
( ) Animatrix
( ) Evil Dead
( ) Evil Dead 2
( ) Team America: World Police
( ) Red Dragon
(x) Silence of the Lambs
( ) Hannibal

GRAND TOTAL: 97

My Love of Books

2008-11-25T08:58:00.000-05:00

My mom had been a librarian all of my life so I actually never owned a lot of books until recently. Book reports were a breeze when I was a kid. I'd call Mom when I got home from school (which I did anyway, so she knew I was home safely) and tell her the assignment and then she'd bring the book home to me.

Even after I moved out, I used the library a lot. I lived in NE Pennsylvania for a short while and I was a regular at the town library. I didn't have a lot of friends in PA, probably because I was always at the library, holed up in some corner, reading the biography of Audry Hepburn or a Diana Gabaldon volume.

I didn't really start buying books until 2 things happened: I became a mother AND I discovered the joys of Amazon. These 2 events collided in the same year and I was like a crack-head for more and more books. The UPS driver was my dealer; he delivered my packages the first winter FRU was born and we couldn't get out much b/c there was a lot of snow that year. I made up a little package of home-made Christmas cookies when he arrived the week before the holiday. As I recall, his name was Chris, but it could have been anything, just as long as my packages arrived safely.

I'm not that bad now. I can control my addiction. Mom still occasionally brings me something to read if I ask and I occasionally make an Amazon order.

However, once I purchase a book, I very, VERY rarely let it leave my possession. Books are one of those things that always get passed on, but rarely back to the person from whose personal library it came. When someone asks if they can borrow one, I break out in a cold sweat and hesitate. I'm embarrassed-really, I am- but I can't help it.

Jodi Picoult, Diana Gabaldon, Pat Conroy, Larry McMurtry, JK Rowling...oh, I'm getting the flutters just thinking about them.

I remember in one of the Ya Ya books a scene when Sidda realizes that she's not the first person to read the books in the library and how she's devastated that she wasn't the person to discover their greatness. I'm not that bad, but I'm lousy at sharing their greatness.

Something to Strive For...

2008-07-10T19:42:00.000-04:00

I have become a firm believer that perfection is a myth. It was created by people like Martha Stewart and June Cleaver to make us females believe that a clean house/kids/husband/life is the sign of a woman who really has her act together. I'm calling BULLSHIT on that theory. The women I know who buy into this load of crap are downright scary!!

I'm getting used to being scattered all the time. My dining room table is constantly covered in clutter. My white tile bathroom floor always has a few of my curly brunette strands on it, they stick out so much it almost looks like they're glowing. I still break-out occasionally and my furniture is always evenly layered in dust.

But I'm happy...and I have a happy child. We know how to laugh, to enjoy family (and we also know when to step away, which was a very important lesson to learn), we eat pizza a few times a week, we forget about bedtimes on the weekends and we can make each other laugh.

There is no perfect outfit, just one that reflects who I am. There is no perfect lipstick, but heck, I had a really good time trying to find it. My hair will never, ever, do what I want it to; it will never cooperate and I've learned to make peace with it. My body doesn't resemble a supermodel's, but it's healthy and after years of abuse, it has forgiven me and is serving me well.

So instead of perfection, I've learned to strive for happiness and health. Love will come to me when it's ready; I can't strive for that, all I have to do is be patient. Perhaps maybe being happy and healthy will send signals out into the universe that say I'm ready.

Sometimes God's Messages Aren't So Subtle

2008-05-20T09:23:00.001-04:00

Yep, that's right folks...sometimes God sends quiet messages that you have to strain to hear and at other times, he whacks you over the head with a golf club to get your attention.

I had 2 messages of the golf-club variety in the past week.

I had 2 crazy weeks, both at home and at work. I spent 6 months planning a symposium scheduled for May 10th. I panicked about it, had nightmares about it, and obsessed about it. It went off without a hitch, almost. The caterer grossly miscalculated the amount of food and sodas, but the turnout was good and both the boss AND the supervisor were pleased. This is no easy feat, since they have 2 completely different cultural backgrounds, educational backgrounds, personalities and expectations.

Now for the fun part: I literally had one foot out the door to go home after the symposium when my pager went off. It's 4:00pm, I'm been at work since 6:45am and I would have classified myself mentally retarded by this time. Anyway, it's the Ex, but I knew he only would not have paged me on a Saturday if it was important.

FRU fell on her face and I needed to meet him and my father at the emergency room. OK, I flipped the switch from retard to become a clear-headed parent and set off for the ER. I get there just as FRU, Ex and Dad are walking into the exam room to be triaged. FRU is still bleeding from her nose and from a few scraps on her face. We had to x-ray her face (I had to be fitted with a set of leads and stay in the room with her) and by the grace of God, she didn't break her nose or any other facial structure. She was examined by a pediatric dental resident (no damage to permanent teeth) and a pediatrician (who helped slow the bleeding).

My life was in a tailspin. Mommy Radar was on Code Red that whole night. I swear, I heard her every single time she rolled over.

She looked like she went 15 rounds with Mike Tyson there for about a week after but she's fine now.

During this block of time, I had an argument with my mother (when the hell is that gonna end), a guy I was supposed to have coffee didn't call (although I really didn't expect him to for varied reasons I won't get into in this post) and I officially got to the end of my energy reserves. My eyes are bloodshot, I have headaches and I'm doing dopey things like bashing my head against the car while leaning in to strap FRU into her booster seat.

Then, the first of 2 gifts: As I mentioned before, I post on a few message boards and have made friends from all over. Anyway, on one of them, a dear friend started a weekly tradition about raising the spirits of one of the members. I was at the end of my energy and patience and then I read some beautiful words about myself. Words that were written by strong women who love me and respect me. I cried, thanked them and prayed to God that everyone should be given such a gift from their friends. They said that I'm funny, smart, have perseverance, am sassy as hell, and I tell it like it is but do it with class.

Then this morning, I was late getting FRU and myself ready, I forget to put the garbage on the curb for pick-up last night and generally felt like crap. I get to work, open my myspace page and got a message from Kewkie, a dear Ya Ya. She wrote that she had read my blog through and told me I was a great friend and that she was proud of me and the journey I'm on and what I've accomplished in the last 2 years.

2 whacks over the head with a golf club, 2 gifts from the Big Guy Upstairs, just when I needed it most.

OK, God, I get the message...If I pray for patience, I will get something that will test my patience. If I ask for energy and strength, I will get something that will suck the energy and strength out of me. And when I ask to be left alone to rot, people will come out of nowhere to help me lift my spirits.

There really is no greater gift than love, in all its forms...

Neighborhood Freaks

2008-04-25T18:52:00.000-04:00

Every neighborhood or town has those few individuals that keep the place colorful. My little section of Brooklyn isn't any different. One might think that with this being NYC and all the freaks wouldn't stick out, but trust me, NYC depends on its freaks more than the average locale.

So here's a quick list of my neighborhood freaks:

There's the 85 year old Grand Dame. I swear, she spackles her foundation into place and paints on this bright blue eyeshadow that is a color that doesn't occur in nature. She wears a rhinestone headband (I wouldn't call it a tiara, but hot damn, it's close!) and a perfectly matched polyester pants suit, circa 1974. She clutches that white pleather clutch for dear life and wears pumps that are perfectly molded to her bunions. She's dolled up like this to go to Key Food and buy a container of milk and a box of Peek Freans.
Then there's Quarter Man. He hangs out in front of Rite-Aid in the warmer months and asks every person who passes the same question, "Got a quarter?" with this Southern/New York accent. He must have a real home when it's cold because he appears to be well-fed.
And then there's CH Man, CH standing for Clean Homeless. I swear, this is the cleanest homeless man you've ever seen. He probably steals from Quarter Man and donates the money to the church so he can wash in their men's room. He lugs all of his worldly possessions around in duffel bags strapped to a rather expensive looking hand-truck. His baseball hats nor his sneakers are dirty and he smiles a bit at people. I'd love to know his story.

There are also the countless normal looking people in my neighborhood. They make the place just as colorful.

That's what I love about NYC, the nuttier its residents, the more fun the area becomes. I lived in a small town in northeastern Pennsylvania for a short time and their nuts are of a different breed entirely. Their nuts were the kind I steer away from in Wal-Mart. I want to get closer to the Brooklyn nuts so I can witness their antics.

There are pros and cons to every conceivable place on earth, but I'm liking my little section of the world right now. I'm used to it and it suits me.

That said, I think that will change one day. I don't see myself spending the rest of my life here. There are different places to explore and one might make me want to plant my roots someplace else.

It's one of the many things that only the future can tell.

The End of an Era

2008-04-08T20:23:00.000-04:00

I was cruising the 'Net one day in February 2005 when I decided to google an author whose books I really enjoyed. Rebecca Wells wrote The Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood and Little Altars Everywhere. These books tell the stories of four women, starting from when they were 4 years old until they are grandmothers, with lots of sassiness and love in between. The stories are about mothers and daughters, boyfriends, women and their husbands and parents, but mostly it was about their friendship.

Anyway, I learned on that fateful day that Ms. Wells was about to come out with a new book, Ya Yas in Bloom. As I looked on the page for a release date, I saw a tab called Gumbo Ya Ya. I was curious, so I clicked.

WOW!!

I entered the message board devoted to Ya Ya and learned that there were members/posters from every state in the Union, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, England, and all over Europe too.

Within a month of my joining the board, I saw a "Shout-Out" with several members names, including my own. MY VERY FIRST SHOUT-OUT!! To make a long story short, this is the group that I travel with every year, the group that carried me through my surgery and my divorce; the ones that make me laugh till I wept and tell me get over myself when I'm wallowing in self-pity. I met them in Atlanta in August of 2005, in Montana in August of 2006 and in Pittsburgh in June of 2007. They are all coming, hopefully, to Brooklyn for New Years.

There's also another whole group of women (and a few men) who have been so important to me. They too prayed for me when I was in the hospital after complications from my gastric bypass. They rejoiced when FRU learned to read and even sent her books to practice (I'll never forget that kindness, JC!!). They wanted to know if I had met anyone special and told me to forget the losers.

In turn, I got to rejoice in babies being born. I prayed for the ill. I sent out good job search vibes. I got about a million recipes (Ya Ya's love to cook, you see). I got fashion advice. I gave make-up advice. I saw beautiful wedding pictures. I heard of a love story that started on Gumbo with ended with two people completely devoted to one another that they give me hope.

And perhaps the greatest lesson I learned at Gumbo is about gratitude. There's a special section where one can list the things that they are grateful for on any given day. I have been grateful for many things...but always for the love in my life. I am thankful that I have many kinds of love in my life and I give many kinds of love. "Love, in all its forms" has become my standard closing. Everyday, I post my gratitude and every night, when I pray, I thank God for love, in all its forms.

We had our dust-ups, but I prefer to not dwell on that now.

And now it's over. The publisher of the Ya Ya books is closing down Gumbo Ya Ya, effective April 21. I swear, I feel like the rug has been yanked out from under me. This is what the last week of summer camp felt like. You want to make the best of it, but you can't help but be sad.

It's the end of an era for me. I have other places to post, many have the same close friends. But it won't be the same. It's like when you move and you have to put furniture in different rooms and it never had the same feel. It will be comfortable, just different.

I had a little over 3 great years on Gumbo. I can't complain, I suppose I would have like it to go on, but alas, it can't.

Will the last one out turn the light off?

Keep on Smiling!

2008-04-07T12:27:00.000-04:00

I got this motto from a man I dated for a short while.

He has some major league issues with work, family and the physical distance between us and decided to contact me, after a few weeks, to tell me this.

Ummm, ok...

He wasn't hurtful, just a little clueless. I guess he was looking for some closure; I hope he feels better. I emotionally moved on from him after the vague message he sent on Easter Sunday telling me he was going to be away on business and wasn't going to have Internet access. Did he lose my number? Will his boss not allow him to make any calls? Will his clients dominate every hour of the whole trip? The answer to all three questions is "no." And that's when I stopped thinking about spending any more time with him.

But I will use his advice...and Keep on Smiling!! It's what I do best. I get bogged down in life's details sometimes, but it's how we handle those details that defines us.

I have managed to carve out a very happy life for myself. I have a wonderful healthy child, a family that loves me ferociously, a relatively decent working relationship with my ex-husband, a good job with security and great friends.

I also have enough respect for myself to not settle.

Life is hard enough without adding more to a plate that's already spilling over. I respect that man for wanting closure, but I just hope that he can be more honest with himself in the future.

Being Straight-Forward

2008-04-01T15:34:00.000-04:00

Why is it so hard to be straight-forward nowadays?

Why can't a friend or co-worker or potential love interest or family member just say what on their mind or ask you what they really want to ask?

Why is everyone so afraid of having their feelings hurt? Or hurting the feelings of others?

A few months ago, I was emailing this guy and things weren't working for him. He emailed me and told me that he wasn't feeling "it" and decided to move on. And believe it or not folks, I wasn't hurt. I was happy that he was honest with me and risked hurting my feelings by telling me the truth. I have a lot a respect for him, wherever he may be.

I've always been rather open with my life and my experiences. There are certain things I won't tell anyone for years and years, but I think we all have those deep dark secrets. Starting friendships with people who aren't forthcoming at all is what irritates me. Sharing the stories that have no depth or that don't tell me about who really are or feel don't count as stories; they count as time-fillers, also known as fluff.

We aren't made of rock, people, others shouldn't have to get a hammer and chisel to get to the real you. If you want new friends, you're going to have to tell a few stories/secrets. It may be painful but think of it this way...if you make a new friend, then they'll help carry the burden of what you've told them and if they turn out to not be a friend, then it really doesn't matter.

The Common Cold

2008-03-19T18:16:00.000-04:00

I am now suffering from what the Guinness Book of World Records calls the most common illness in humans. I feel, and look, and sound, like I've been run over by a Mack truck. I swear, I just want to take to my bed and stay there for a week. Everyone I know has had some kind of illness this winter and I really thought I was going to get off scot-free. I figured that since I made it to March, I was golden. HA, that's what I get for being cocky!

But I went to work today. I got a lot of work done for our re accreditation. This is the most irritating, thankless part of my job description. I hate dealing with academic issues. I'd much rather deal with patients and insurance and co-payments...I know, I'm weird.

I have this friend at work who has an even more thankless job than I do. She does scut work for many members of the department and somehow is always smiling and helpful. She makes me laugh and we've struck up a nice work friendship. Sometimes I wonder how she does it, but I suppose she's like me. She has no choice. We both need to work. And don't get me wrong, I like my job, I just wish it was more fun. If I could figure out a way to make a great living playing with lipstick and shoes all day, I'd be one happy camper!!

And folks, that's all I've got for you today. My nose is dripping like a 3 year old who's been playing in the snow for a few hours and I can no longer breathe out of my left nostril.

I'm off to bed...wishing you all health...whatever you do, don't catch a cold until after Easter...

Blessed Are The Limber...

2008-03-14T20:52:00.000-04:00

...for they never get bent out of shape.

I read this quote on the web somewhere today and it really spoke to me.

I'm in the middle of a very busy time at work. The unit I'm attached to is preparing the paperwork for the reaccreditation process. The hospital as a whole is expecting a team of inspectors to arrive any minute. My friend/co-worker is about to give birth and is soooo uncomfortable. I haven't been away from work for more than a long weekend since last June. Most of my co-workers are aggravating the heck outta me lately.

As I reread that paragraph, I got disgusted with myself. I work in a hospital, for Pete's sake!! The patients we serve are, accordingly to the demographics, poor, foreign born, aren't well educated and of minority populations. Some of them actually have to choose whether to buy their medications or buy food.

But so many of these patients smile. They grin their toothy grins and wish me a good day. That's when I get the hell over myself.

I have choices and luxuries that so many of these people don't enjoy. I didn't feel like cooking tonight, so I went out for dinner with FRU and my parents. I stayed home for a year after FRU was born. I have good health insurance.

I read that quote at just the right time. I had my panties in a twist over...geez, I can't even remember now...and simply laughed to/at myself. I realized that I had to stop taking things at work so seriously. Please don't confuse it with not doing my job. I'm good at what I do and I like my boss...but I don't have to internalize things.

I need to be able to "bend" when the situation calls for it. I'm not Wonder Woman, I'm not going to solve every arguement and I'm not going to win every person over. As I get the rest of my life in order, I guess I need to let the work stuff go. There are certain things I can control and the rest of the things (which probably counts for 99%) is out of my control.

Why, Oh Why...

2008-02-29T19:57:00.000-05:00

...do the irritating people of the world always get in the way of the people who actually get things done?

I work in a hospital run by New York State. The bureaucracy in this institution (and every pun is intended in this case) is enough to make me stark-raving mad most of the time.

Today was a perfect example. Someone called in sick so I had to scramble to get patients on the phone before they came for their appointments and The Apocalypse hit the unit in which I work. OK, maybe it wasn't the Apocalypse...a doorknob broke off...but in the name of all things holy, it certainly seemed like the sky was falling there for a while. It's a fuckin' doorknob, people, if the door is closed, you simply turn the knob, ask someone else to hold the door open and wheel the patient into the procedure room. What is so hard about this? I swear, this one co-worker obsessed about this dilemma for the better part of the morning while I, the senior level executive assistant performed mind-numbingly aggravating data entry.

If the GD door was supposed to be open all the time, they wouldn't have put the GD door there in the first GD place!!

OK, moving on. A very sweet man I've been chatting with on what is becoming an increasingly regular basis tells me to "Keep On Smiling!" I can't do that and complain about GD doorknobs, so I'm letting The Great GD Doorknob Disaster of 2008 go.

Now for an FRU update:
FRU spent the week with Ex last week while she was on winter break from school. Boy, that sent all three of us into a tailspin. FRU came back not nearly as filthy as I thought, but seemed to have developed an acute fear of teeth brushing and hair brushing. My daughter was a complete diva on February 17th when I dropped her off at her father's and she came back with her jeans hanging off her butt so her crack was showing like a plumber.

But she was happy, laughing like a loon and gave him the biggest, tightest hug when I picked her up to bring her home. This warmed my heart.

I've had a hard time getting it through Ex's rather thick head that he needs to be the one to cultivate a relationship with his daughter. I can't orchestrate that relationship. I am a firm believer that you can't make someone love someone else. The love (regardless if it's parental, friendly, romantic) has to been earned, nurtured and cherished. Since Ex's childhood was so tumultuous, I think he has a hard time simply allowing the love for his child flow through him. I think he's terrified of what it feels like. He's never really been on the receiving end of parental love. I can't relate to his experiences at all. I never doubted for one minute that I was loved, that I was cherished and that I belonged to several family units.

I'm hoping last week will act as the catalyst for them to form a family unit, just the two of them. Since we no longer form a unit of 3, FRU will belong to an alternate type of family unit. She'll thrive, she'll falter and she'll come back to center, just as I have done, and dare I say, like her father has finally done as well.

Navigating your way through this life and this world can be disheartening at times, but when you really think about it, what's the alternative? You cannot simply get over what happens in life, you must go through it. That's what makes things like The Great GD Doorknob Disaster of 2008 so GD ridiculous!!

Meme from Leader of the Pack

2008-02-25T22:25:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted in a while and since I'm too tired to think about it, I'm copping out. I have material to write about, but I'm not ready to share it just yet.

Read on, if you dare!!

What were you doing 10 years ago?
I was planning my wedding...and we all know how that turned out.

What were you doing 1 year ago?
Pretty much the same thing I did today: Went to work, went to an Al-Anon meeting

Five snacks you enjoy:
1. Chips
2. Crackers with PB
3. Popcorn
4. Hummus and pita chips
5. Lorna Doones

Five songs that you know all the lyrics to:
1. Scenes from and Italian Restaurant by Billy Joel
2. America from West Side Story
3. Every Little Thing She Does is Magic by The Police
4. Only The Good Die Young by Billy Joel
5. Finnegan's Wake, an Irish folk song

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
1. Retire
2. Buy a house
3. Invest
4. Have the biggest Ya Ya gathering the world has ever seen
5. Go shopping

Five bad habits:
1. Drinking too much coffee
2. Procrastinating
3. Not planning what I'm going to eat
4. Obsessing over dumb stuff
5. Always having a cluttered dining room table

Five things you like doing:
1. Cooking
2. Reading
3. Playing with my kid

4. Going on walks
5. Going out to dinner

Five things you would never wear again:
1. Bandanas tied around my ankles
2. Scrunchies
3. A white bra under a white shirt
4. Ugly boots
5. Ugly jeans

Five favorite toys:
1. Computer
2. Cell phone
3. DVR
4. Corkscrew
5. Spellcheck

If you’re reading this, consider yourself tagged.

Friendships Evolve

2008-01-28T20:23:00.000-05:00

A week ago, I took FRU to the birthday party of my friend T's daughter, B. B is four months younger than FRU and is the polar opposite of her in the looks department. They both look their fathers...Ex is 100% Irish and B's father is 100% Moroccan.

Anyway, before the girls were born, T, E and I along with a few others were all so close, we could barely eat without the others. T, E & I even lived in the same house for a while, renting apartments from the craziest old bag on Staten Island. We all had significant others, and the 6 of us lived in demented, paranormal, slightly twisted bliss for about 6 months and then I moved out b/c I was pregnant and there was simply no room in that tiny apartment for Ex, me and a baby. We ate together every night, watched TV together, went shopping together...see that pattern here?

That was the beginning of the end of an era.

We all just went our own way. E split with her fiancee (which was a good thing) and is now engaged again to an absolute sweetheart. I divorced my whack job alcoholic husband. And lo and behold, T is the happiest, most settled one of the bunch.

T was the one I always I worried about. She seemed so lonely, even when surrounded by people who loved her. Her mother died when she was very young and her father quickly remarried, so she was passed around to her many aunts. The ones that really stepped up to the plate are two of the most sassy, fiery, loving women I have ever been honored to know.

They envelope everyone in their presence with this crazy, Italian-American, Brooklyn love, you know, the kind that isn't shown to you as much as it's yelled at you. You're fed till your clothes are tight and then they tell you what you're doing wrong in your life...and they're usually right. They teach you to laugh like you've never laughed before and you make a mental note to wear waterproof mascara the next time you go to their house because you laugh so hard you end up with black streaks running down your cheeks. They are mother and daughter and I will always have the greatest respect and love for what they have done for my friend T.

T married S after a rather convoluted courtship and settled into the next era of her life. E and I thought we had it sooooo under control and really, looking back, we didn't have a friggin' clue. T knew it all long, lil stinker.

T & I lost touch for a while. I don't remember why, but I'm thankful that we reconnected. My mother used to call T & E my sisters. T is 3 years older and E is 3 years younger. It made perfect sense. We seem to all be in different places in our lives and we all seem happier. It's beautiful, it really is. I really love those women.

I sent an email to T late last week to tell her that I'm so happy that she has a beautiful life. And in true form, she wants to share her happiness with me. We're going to get the girls together more often. I want FRU to know her and her family. I mean, heck, they practically are my family. My family of choice.

And maybe, just maybe, FRU can share the 2 aunts that were so pivotal in T's life. They can't replace the 2 she lost in The Nastiness of Christmas 2006, but I'd like her to know what it's like to be loved by powerful women who are capable of so much. They have lessons to teach...maybe I could learn a few myself.

The Winter Blah's

2008-01-07T09:24:00.000-05:00

I hate this time of year.

Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas brings on so much excitement that January is soooo depressing. All of the holiday lights are down, at least most of the lights. I understand those who like to leave up their decorations until Little Christmas (January 6th), but if they're still up after that, it's a sign of laziness.

I always like to have lots of plans for January. My friend's daughter is having her birthday party in two weeks, so FRU and I will attend that. I like to get together with friends, do clearance shopping, see lots of movies and take lots of walks, weather permitting. The depths of winter can be so sad. There are no leaves, no flowers, no gentle breezes. People are rushing around in the streets, trying to do their errands and shopping as quickly as possible so they can get home where it's warm. Even the local Starbucks isn't busy...and that place is ALWAYS packed.

But through the sadness, there's a sense of regrowth. I spend winter nights cuddled under an afghan on the couch, reading all the books I didn't have a chance to read all summer and fall, I meditate and regain my focus and enjoy the quiet. I know, it may be hard to believe that there is quiet here in NYC, but there is, you just have to listen for it. The windows are closed, so you don't hear the cheers from the Sunday football crowds at the bar on the corner and you don't hear the screeching of brakes on the Avenue. It's just quiet.

I never really enjoyed quiet like I do now. Maybe it's part of mother hood, maybe it's because I work full-time and can't catch 5 minutes peace at work. I like to be able to just sit and be without answering my phone or having the television on. I like to be able to read instead of watching dramas and sitcoms and reality shows, which we all know barely have one toe based in reality.

On a happy note, I'm going to be the recipient of a pair of hand-knit socks that will travel all the way from Magdeburg, Germany. My dear friend, Dixie Peach, is an avid knitter (just like my mother) and is involved in a year-long sock knitting project. The person who was supposed to receive January's socks never got her the proper measurements...and I did...so I get them. I'm so excited!! The woman is such an inspiration to me. She completely changed her life about 10 years ago, moved to Germany from Mississippi and had since projected this joy to all those who come in contact with her. She has such a sharp wit...she has made me laugh out loud while reading her blogs and posts!!

So, now that I think about it, maybe I'm not suffering from the winter blah's. Maybe I'm just enjoying not running from place to place all the time and spending time with people I'd rather not. I like having down-time and winter gives it to me. Now, if only FRU would give me some down-time, I'd be all set...

Year End, 2007

2007-12-31T13:44:00.000-05:00

So, tonight is New Year's Eve. The day and night when so many people will be trying to tie up all the loose ends of 2007. There will be countless accoutants doing year-end counts (how's that for the use of alliteration?!?), bartenders and servers will make an entire month's rent in tips...and I'll be spending with my family.

My cousin is hosting as she did on Christmas and so a fun time is just about guaranteed. ML will, of course, make too much food, will give my mother too many Brandy Alexanders and we will all laugh too loud. Sounds like a good time to me.

This will be the first year I will let FRU stay up till midnight. Since her birth, I've always tucked her in at her regular time and cuddled on the couch, trying like hell to keep my eyes open till midnight. Before Ex and I split up, we made a tradition of going out on December 30th. We called New Year's Eve "Amateur Night." People who don't drink all year get all liquored up on New Year's Eve and make complete spectacles of themselves...and usually not in a good way. We liked to avoid this public display of intoxication at all costs. So we did it a full 24 hours before anyone else. Yeah, we're rebels.

But that aspect of my life, like so many others, has changed since my divorce. I spent New Year's with my family now. Actually, if memory serves, I was in my pajamas by 8:00pm last New Year's and spent it alone on my couch. I was perfectly content to doze while waiting for the world's most expensive chandeleir to make its yearly descent over Times Square.

So, as this Yenta slowly comes to the end of 2007, it seems like a good time to reflect. My divorce was finalized, I re-entered the dating pool, my daughter started kindergarten and learned to read, I went away with my girlfriends to Pittsburgh and had a fabulous time, and I came back to center. The divorce completely scrambled my life, but as I build it again, I'm realizing that Iwas a lot stronger than I thought. I have a lot more to offer than I thought. I just need to find the right person to share it with; no more co-dependent lunatics for me, thankyaverahmuch...

So, Did You Survive?

2007-12-26T09:54:00.001-05:00

I had a wonderful Christmas!!!

It was filled with love and family and carbs...how can you go wrong?

Mom and I, without knowing it, started a bit of a silent feud with her 2 sisters and their respective families last year. One is a fiery, and somewhat nasty, PITA and the other is so passive aggressive, I'm not sure how she can stand herself. Between the two of them, they have raised the four most spoiled, most self-indulgent children this side of Buckingham Palace. They all have this sense of entitlement and it disgusts me. I don't want to be around these people. The passive aggressive aunt has the nerve to feel bad for me because I am divorced, but I think it's only because her husband won't let her divorce him. He must have this facade of a happy family on display and it's really quite sickening. I'm not even going to waste blog space on the PITA aunt...there's not enough room in the cyber world to talk about all of her issues.

The last year has been quiet and drama-free since the feud began. I really don't mind it. What kind of message am I sending to my daughter if I allow myself to be treated like a second-class citizen by these people. I was treated like that by my Ex and I refuse to allow it to happen again.

But let's talk about happy stuff...I bought...ummm, I mean, Santa brought FRU a telescope for Christmas and she's in her glory. She's developed a healthy fascination with the planets and I want to encourage her interest in science. I'm planning on setting it up on the balcony tonight so she can do a bit of stargazing. I hope the weather cooperates...

We had a great time at my cousin's house. She makes this huge spread with entirely too much food, made Brandy Alexanders for everyone, made us all laugh and encourages carrying on...what better place is there for Christmas! FRU loves this cousin. When we were leaving to go to my former SIL's, she says, " I don't want to leave" to my cousin...it warmed my heart.

Tomorrow, my parents and I are taking FRU to the ballet, to see The Nutcracker. I think I'm more excited than she is, but only because she doesn't know what to expect. I saw The Nutcracker on New Years Eve when I was about 11 and I thought it was magical.

A few of my friends/mothers of FRU's friends are trying to figure out a night to have dinner together...sans kids...with no talk of chicken nuggets or potty training. I have another friend who wants to meet for coffee. And my family wants to get together on Friday to walk over the Brooklyn Bridge; I won't be able to join them, but we'll meet up for dinner.

I'm telling you, I know I've said this before, but I swear, life just keep getting better and better. And as for the people who think I'm doing the wrong thing, screw 'em!! They probably can't hack the fact that I'm a bit of a rebel. I do what's right for me and what's right for my kid. I don't have to explain my actions to anyone...and anyone who needs an explanation doesn't deserve one.

Ransom Musings about Christmas Craziness

2007-12-21T15:33:00.000-05:00

I wrapped all the prezzies last Sunday but forgot a bag of stocking stuffers I bought in October. I had the bag stashed behind the chair in my bedroom (so FRU wouldn't find it). So, when FRU is with her father on Sunday, guess what I'll be doing? That's right, folks...wrapping stocking stuffers that should have gotten wrapped last Sunday...that's what I get for trying to be efficient.

On Monday just past, I realized I had forgotten to purchase gifts for FRU's teacher and for her babysitter...so between the workout at the gym and going to my Al-Anon meeting, I did some shopping. What do you get to show appreciation for the people who taught your child to read and who sits with our child while you go get your head together at an Al-Anon Meeting? It's hard to show appreciation to those who you aren't related to or friends with, but these are two very important people in FRU's life.

I really do love gift giving. I like watching people's faces when they open prezzies. I like buying things that people wouldn't buy for themselves. For my mother's birthday, I got her a gift certificate for a mani/pedi. That's something she definitely wouldn't have done for herself and really appreciated it.

The only one who ever really got me gifts I wanted (after I entered adulthood) was my mom. When I was a kid, my grandmothers and my aunts got me some great things...a popcorn maker, a nameplate necklace, roller skates (complete with coordinating pom-poms), a TV (Grandma hit the slots in Atlantic City big time one November and we all had a good Christmas that year) and the creme de la creme...my dog, Terry...he was a wire fox terrier that I got the Christmas I was 11. He was the greatest dog that ever lived. Really, no exaggeration...

Mom thinks about me and my likes and dislikes and buys me books, jewelry, and clothing that I really like.

Ex bought me terrible gifts. It's like he didn't think about me or what I liked or what I wanted. The only time he ever bought me anything I liked is when I told him EXACTLY what to get me. So now that I think about it, that means, that in 10 years, all I got that I like was my engagement ring and my hugs & kisses bracelet.

I better steer myself away from that topic, otherwise I could be here all afternoon griping!!

This year, we wholeheartedly accepted an invitation to my cousin ML's house for Christmas Day. I adore this cousin. ML is about 5 years older than I am, and since she was the youngest in her family, she always treated me like the bratty kid sister. I haven't seem her in a while, but we always laugh and carry on when we're together. I also try to help her out in the kitchen. She's famous for setting out this HUGE spread with entirely too much food, but it's all delicious and we all get goody bags to take home.

After an hour or two, I'll take FRU over to Ex at his sister's house so she can spend time with his family. I want her to spend time with as many family members as possible. Even though Ex and I aren't married anymore, she's still part of 2 families. I mean, heck, I had to deal with 2 sets of crazy people, why shouldn't she? Seriously, I want her to love all of her family. And there's bound to be plenty of food at my former SIL's house. She cooks like ML!!!

So, to end what will probably be my last blog before Christmas, I'll give you the secret to dealing with crazy people to whom you are related. Don't take anything they say too seriously, remember that you probably won't all be together again until at least 4th of July weekend...and that these crazy people are the reason egg nog is an alcoholic beverage!!!

The Miracle of Ordinary Days

2007-12-18T14:53:00.000-05:00

This was the title of a movie-of-the-week a while back and I usually never watch those things, but this one caught my attention.

The message was simple...the miracles of happiness don't occur on one's wedding day or the day you get a big promotion. They happen on simple average days, when you least expect them.

I had one of those days yesterday. Let me explain...

I am a grateful member of Al-Anon. I started going steadily almost a year ago to try to process some of the anger I have as a result of Ex's drinking. Last night someone spoke about a sibling and the spouse and their using and their kids and a horrible accident that nearly killed 3 of them. She burst into tears, basically begging for help on how to get through the holidays.

As we all went around and shared (I was the 3rd one to share) more and more emotions came to the surface for me. By the time the 15th or 16th person shared, I was a teary snotty mess. EVERY SINGLE PERSON said something can could be applied to Ex or my family. Things like learning to keep certain people at an "emotional arms distance," learning the lesson that every difficult situation can teach you, taking care of one's self during this time of year. There are people in this meeting whose childhoods were absolutely horrible...dangerous and painful (emotional and physical) and filled with terrible memories. But they were all able to teach this ex-wife of an alcoholic a little something about forgiveness and moving on.

I cried and cried and the woman sitting next to me, I'll call her D, just hugged me and held me till I was under control...and then she made me laugh. D has many years in program and always says profound things. She's going through a rather difficult situation with her daughter and her brother just died a few weeks ago, but she managed to find joy and show it to me.

And this is the lesson I learned...find joy, cherish it and when you're done with it, pass it on to others...that way, you get to enjoy it again when you watch someone receive it...

So, folks, as you prepare for Christmas and New Years...remember, joy and laughter and faith and love aren't in the gifts, THEY ARE THE GIFTS...

Rambling Christmas Thoughts, 2007

2007-12-10T13:01:00.000-05:00

Well, it's that time of year again...time to drag out all those dusty decorations, send Christmas cards to people you haven't seen in a gajillion years and probably wouldn't recognize of the street and spend painstaking hours wrapping prezzies that will be unwrapped at a speed faster than that of light.

But really...Christmas is my favorite time of year. There's a snap of excitement in the air that is almost visible.

My 5 year-old daughter is already suffering from I'm-too-excited-to-sleep syndrome. She bounces around the room as if on speed, trying to be good, but she ends up not listening to what I'm telling her to do and that means she ends up not being so good. It gets aggravating, but I completely understand it. I know she can't help it and (secretly, and I'll admit this only to you) it's heart-warming to watch. I have vivid memories of jumping on my bed yelling, "Only 4 more days of school till Christmas!"

Christmas in New York is magical. The people are moving just as fast, but there are more excuse me's being said and there are well-wishers wherever you go. I was in the Macy's at Herald Square over the weekend (I dare you to find me a place on earth with more people per square inch) and although it was insane, everyone was polite. Everyone there was on the same mission: To find the perfect gift for (fill in the blank). I took some time to myself and got a coffee from Starbucks on the balcony, which overlooks the main floor. Some people were strolling, some people were rushing, some people seemed to be standing there absorbing the energy of Macy's and New York...but as I watched, I thought of how lucky I am.

Maybe, that's selfish but I thought about my fabulous kid (you know, the one who has been secretly eating Energizer batteries...it's the only viable reason I can come up with for her energy levels lately), my job, the security and benefits I get from the job, having both of my parents and watching their love grow even after 39 years of marriage, my friends who have stood behind me during many low points in the last 18 months (and I'll admit that they carried during some of time) and for the potential paramours who send me lessons from the universe, whether they mean to or not.

All of these things give me hope. All of these things make me happy. All of these things make me realize how far I've come on my journey to a better place.

I wish my ex-husband well on his life's journey. I hope he finds happiness. I hope he learns a few of life's lessons. I hope he can make peace with his past and not be defined by it. I suppose I wish that for all of us.

As we move towards the longest night of the year, the day with the least sunshine...may you all be wrapped in light and love whenever you need it and may you all learn that being alone isn't such a bad thing.

Why are Exercise & Dating Such Chores?

2007-10-12T10:30:00.000-04:00

I joined a gym last month after years of (foolishly) denying I needed to go. The Lucille Roberts in my neighborhood was having a membership deal too good to pass up, so I took the plunge.

I've been doing 30 minutes on the treadmill at a 2.0 incline at 4.2 mph and I'm burning about 200-300 calories. I feel so good after I'm done and it makes me wonder why I never got into it before. Oh, that's right, I was married to a schmuck who needed me to take care of everything so he could partake in his addictions with full gusto. But I digress...I feel the endorphins waking up and once they start running through me, my head clears out.

The funniest part is that I don't feel not one bit selfish by taking this time for myself. I need that time. I have found that "alone time" is one of the most important things in my life. I have a wonderful support system who helps me with my daughter and it give me the go-ahead to take care of business.

But it's still a chore. I sweat, I pant and I generally hate it. Everyone keeps saying I need a work-out buddy. Nope, that won't work for me. I don't want to share the responsibility for my exercise with anyone else. That way, if I stop going, I have no one to blame by myself; I can't say that since my buddy stopped going, I stopped going too.

In other news, another R has asked me to dinner. Actually I said it was safer to start with coffee and he made me laugh by responding, "How much trouble can we get into at dinner?" We're having problems getting our schedules worked out. We've been IM'ing for about 6 weeks and he seems perfectly nice.

But then again, in the virtual world, all men seem perfectly nice. And they all like taking walks on the beach. And none of them mind going shopping with their girlfriends. They're all looking for that special lady (they never say "woman" or "person", it's always "lady") with whom they can happily watch movies on the couch. They all have parents who raised them to respect their "ladies" and they all love kids and pets. They like going out to eat and on the other hand, a fair number of these men like to cook.

But let's face it, folks...it's all about sex...isn't it? Well, I guess if you're gonna sweat there are so many more fun ways to do it then by exercising...

Just So Ya Know, I Still Hate Playing Games and Other Musings

2007-09-28T11:43:00.000-04:00

Ok, I'm sooo done with R...but it seems like he was done with me first, so that point is moot, huh?

The whole thing came out of left field, kinda side-swiped me, spun me around till I was dizzy and then exited stage right.

I liked R, I did...was I planning on packing my stuff and start shopping for a white dress...ABSOLUTELY NOT! But I would have liked to continue to see him. Maybe he was pissed that I didn't call, maybe my expectations were too high, maybe I wasn't reading the universe's signs that were telling me not to bother with him...who knows, but if he really is as needy as his last text message indicates, perhaps it's just as well that we didn't get too involved.

I have no idea what happened, but on, another front, I have the whole weekend laid out in front of me. FRU will spend the weekend with Ex so as of about Noon tomorrow, I'M ON MY OWN, for about 24 hours. Oh, the possibilities...

I think I'll head to Manhattan: see a movie, go browsing in the Strand for books I don't need (but MUST have), eat in some fun, hole-in-the-wall restaurant...basically, do things for me. I'm sure there will be a new lipstick from Sephora involved and well as a plain, ole regular Coke. Man, I just love Coke, but if I drank it at the rate that I'd like to, I'd be a 800 pound diabetic with really, REALLY bad teeth.

The possibilities that are unfolding in my life are so exciting. Sometimes they leave me breathless, sometimes they leave me bewildered and sometimes it leaves me angry. But the game-playing is something I'd outlaw, given the possibility. Men and women are so cruel to one another...are there people out there who truly think they're scoring points on some cosmic scorecard when they hurt the people they date?

Confidence

2007-09-24T13:12:00.000-04:00

Why do some people have confidence in themselves while others suffer from low self-esteem?

I've pondered this question a lot lately. I have complete confidence in my abilities to be a good mother, but since the only marriage I was ever in failed, I realize that maybe I wasn't the best wife. As a direct result of this revelation, my confidence in being a mate has been shaken quite a bit.

I know I did the best I could with what I was given. I cleaned up the messes: the literal ones and the figurative ones. I gave Ex time to sleep off his drunken binges, I covered for him at work, and I ignored many, many remarks I shouldn't have. Did I do the right thing? I'll never really get a straight answer to that question, will I?

I know that I'm better off for ending that miserable marriage. I know one day, my daughter will understand that I didn't do it to hurt her, but to protect her from the same mental and emotional abuse to which I was subjected. But it's so hard when she tells me that she misses Daddy. I never quite know how to respond to that statement. I don't miss him. I was emotionally alone for so long that I can barely remember ever being happy.

I've worked really, REALLY hard on getting my confidence back. I've slowly returned to being my normal, sassy-mouthed, sarcastic self. It's great to be back. I'm happy and life is good. I've armed myself with tools to deal with self-pity, depression, guilt, anger and sadness. These things come at me occasionally, they team up every so often to try to give me the ol' double-whammy, but I've been able to find my center much more easily than ever before. I used to wallow in these negative feelings for days, sometimes weeks, but not anymore. I have confidence, happiness, sweetness & light and my mojo...they're never going to leave me again, because I'll never give them up again.

The Games People Play...

2007-09-19T09:24:00.000-04:00

Why do men and women play games with one another? Ahhh, if I had the answer to that question, I'd be rolling in bajillions of greenbacks!!

Let me explain, my ex-husband moved out, at my request in July of 2006 and our divorce was final on May 9, 2007, exactly 10 years, to the day, after he proposed marriage. I've been dealing with a whole barrage of emotions in both myself and my now 5 year old daughter, FRU, since. FRU handled the chaos by cutting everything out of her diet except chicken nuggets and PB&J...without crust, of course. I handled the chaos by going to Al-Anon meetings. You see, Ex is an alcoholic who is not in recovery and who blames me for everything.

So, I met this guy, R, on Saturday after going through an on-line dating website. We texted (is "texted" officially a verb yet?) and chatted all last week and he came to Brooklyn to meet me and we had dinner. There wasn't an uncomfortable lull in conversation. We talked about our kids, our jobs, a bit about our exes, our travels...and other things that don't come to mind at the moment. We lingered over coffee and held hands...all that jazz. I was kissed, quite thoroughly as a matter of fact, before he left, which left me a bit breathless, in a good way.

He texted me before he got to the bridge, which is only about 3 minutes from where I live to set up the next time we could meet.

To make a long story short, he drove to Brooklyn AGAIN on Sunday night, to have coffee with me at Starbucks. We talked, held hands...and yes, he kissed me again.

And since....NOTHING!!! We send one another a few vague texts, but other than that...NOTHING!!!

As if it remains "nothing" for a bit longer, I'm done.

I'm waaaaaaay too old for games. I have no time for this kind of nonsense. One of my friends told me that he probably got a lot of crap from his friends about coming to see me again on Sunday night so now he's playing it cool. Whatever...

So, the question remains....why do people play games? If someone doesn't interest you, don't lie to him/her or pretend to have interest. Pick up the phone or log on to your email and simply say, "This isn't something I'd like to pursue." Why is that so difficult for certain people?

And is there is genuine interest, just say it...or express it.

Until I hear from R, if ever, I will continue to attempt to devise a theory to answer my question and if ever find out the answer to that question, I'll be sure to donate some of my bajillions to a taskforce that stops women from doing dumb things when they should be realizing that he wasn't all that into them to start with.

What I Love...

2007-09-10T15:49:00.000-04:00

I've been reading the blogs of some friends lately and one in particular got me thinking. She wrote about what she loved. I thought I'd make my own list and see what I came up with.

I love, in no particular order (and this list is by no means complete): teddy bears, pasta with marinara sauce and meatballs, coffee mixed to my exact specifications, hugs from loved ones (especially my daughter), thunderstorms, pretty shoes, wearing my favorite sexy underwear on any average workday, bras that make "the girls" look and feel fabulous, the idea of a soul mate, learning how to date again, the miracles of modern medicine, the miracles of modern cosmetology, prayers, clarity, being comfortable with my decisions, my homemade chili, planning surprises, men who are sure of themselves enough to not need a woman to take care of them, margaritas, everything bagels with cream cheese and BBQ potato chips, Diet Mountain Dew, Starbucks Toffee Nut Lattes, my own self-discovery after years of hiding my true self, my confidence, Beach Music by Pat Conroy, The Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells, my DVR, my health insurance and the idea of reincarnation.

That's just the tip of the iceberg. The older I get, the more multi-faceted I become. There are so many things in my life and this world to enjoy and learn to love. 4 years ago, I swore I'd never eat sushi; now, I crave it like a pregnant woman wants pickles.

Life experiences add entries to the List of Loves every day...that's the whole point, isn't it.

Comfort

2007-08-21T15:25:00.001-04:00

It's rainy, miserable and downright cold for New York in August. It's a damp and dank 58 degrees as I write this and I'm thinking about how I'm going to stay warm.

I suppose it's too warm for flannel pajamas, but it's the perfect temperature for soup. It's the sure-fire way to feel warm and comforted.

I've discovered during the last year or so that there are many things out there that comfort me. Knowing that there are friends in at least 4 time zones I can call when I need to talk. Knowing I have a fully-functioning coffee maker. Knowing I have a healthy child. Knowing I have an education that no one can ever take away from me. Knowing I can prepare healthy, and well, comforting meals. Knowing I'll always have enough for the bills and there'll be a bit leftover for some little extravagence. Knowing that I own Steel Magnolias on DVD; this movie is always good for a laugh, which is a comfort.

I suppose people take their comfort in different ways. Some people I know need so much more that I do to feel comforted: expensive shoes, huge houses. There are also those who need so little; for example, my grandmother, she simply needs her children and grandchildren to gather about once a year.

I used to depend almost exclusively on food for comfort. If I had a bad day, then I'd simply start dreaming about what I would eat for dinner to chase the bad feelings away. I suppose anyone with an addiction does the same thing: a drug addict would think about his/her next fix, a compulsive shopper would think about where to shop, a alcoholic would just muddle through till they could start drinking.

Knowing there are beauties in the damndest places is enough of a comfort to get me through through this miserably rainy day.

Love, In All Its Forms...

2007-08-16T15:25:00.001-04:00

This is always the last line I type when I post my Gratitude on my message boards. Sometimes I'm grateful for coffee, sometimes I'm grateful for my daughter, sometimes I'm grateful for not carrying any weapons to work so I can't hurt anyone...but I'm always thankful for the love I have in my life.

I've been blessed with the most amazing child. She's a diva who only wears dresses, wants to be a princess when she grows up, hates to leave the house with lip gloss and is the world's best cuddler. She really is my favorite person in the whole world. She's fun to be around, even if the Diva thing gets a bit old sometimes. She's actually commented to me not that long ago that only boys wear pajamas and that I should buy myself a nightgown.

I also have great parents. Sure, they're opinionated and stubborn, but supportive when they need to be and keep their mouths shut when it's most important. But, honestly, I have no idea what we're going to talk about once they retire. So many of our conversations revolve around what they're going to do when they retire. I still have an estimated 28 years till I retire so I can find lots of other subjects to chat about.

My girlfriends have carried me through some pretty trying experiences...major surgery, my divorce, family court appearances, debt, loneliness and the season finales of Dancing with Stars and So You Think You Can Dance. They tell me when I need to slow down, they tell me when I'm being ridiculous, they tell me to get over myself, they support me when I'm angry (unless I start searching for the aforementioned weapons), they tell it's ok to cry and they tell me when to stop...I wonder how I would have gotten through the last year without them.

I have taken steps to cut out family that suck the love and energy I have to offer out of me. I have been through way too much in the last year to love unconditionally anymore. I know that's sad, but it is what it is. Life is too damn short to be miserable, it's too damn short to spend it with relatives with whom you have nothing in common and with whom you have no respect.

One day, another friend or a man will walk into my life and the ability to love unconditionally will return, but for now, I'm grateful for the love I have for my family, the love I have for my friends, the love I have for myself...and the love of Starbucks Toffee Nut Lattes...which are a little bit of heaven right here on earth.

Sorry It's Been So Long...

2007-08-10T10:12:00.000-04:00

Time has a sneaky way of sneaking away from me. It's been almost 4 months since my last blog and I really don't have a good excuse about why it's been so long.

I went away with my Ya Ya's at the end of June. We all met on a message board about 2 years ago and get together in someone's hometown every summer. 2 years ago we met in Atlanta; last year, we had our gathering in Kalispell, Montana and this year we all met up in Pittsburgh.

Ahhh, Pittsburgh. I'm lovin' this city. Its beauty is quite different from New York's beauty, it is much more rugged, but it is something to behold. My friend, J, and her husband, B, settled in Pittsburgh about 6 years ago after B got a transfer. They have this incredble house; it was built inthe 1880's (At least that's whatI remember), with 8 bedrooms, a maid's staircase and great porch out front with a tiled floor and enough room for a table and chairs and a hammock.

There are about 8 in the core group. Some are SAHM's, some are women with jobs, some have children, some can't have children, almost all of us have been divorced, but there are the chosen few who seemed to get it right the first time. These women have carried me through major surgery, divorce, and depression. They've made me laugh, they've cried with me and they've told me to get the hell over myself when I needed to hear it most. There's not an ounce of bullshit in the whole lot. And after living a lie for so long, it's a welcome change.

In another area of my life...FRU is starting kindergarten in September, which is hard for me. At this moment 5 years, I was so pregnant that I was about to explode and now I'm getting that wee bairn ready for kindergarten. I now know what all of those parents have been complaining about for centuries...where did all the time go? Just a minute ago, I was praying she's sleep through the night so I could get some rest and now I need to buy her some black marbled notebooks and few pencils. It's simply baffling.

Just last night, she marched into my room and declared that she could spell her name. She recited each letter of her name and I have to admit, my knees buckled...just a bit.

I see changes in her everyday. She's more of a child now and less of a baby. She's tall, articulate, stubborn (gee, I wonder from where she got that trait?!?) and sweet. Oh, her sweetness!! She'll look at me when I'm feeling unpretty, or sad, or overwhelmed, or vulnerable and she say, "Mommy, I think you're beautiful!" All of a sudden, after hearing that, things dont' look so gray, so bleak, so...overwhelming.

My child loves me...and life continues to get better and better...

Making Headway with my Head

2007-04-24T09:07:00.000-04:00

Getting my act together is one of the hardest tasks I've ever had to perform. Life seems to get in the way of the best intentions.

I'm working on a complex, very detail oriented project at work right now and I'm mourning the loss of my great aunt, who passed away on Sunday morning in Alabama. My dear grandmother won't be able to go to her sister's funeral and I know that will take an emotional toll on her. There's also the divorce and child support stuff to deal with as well as the day-to-day details.

In years past, I would have gone to the supermarket or the McDonald's drive thru, then gone home, then gone to pieces. I used food as a crutch, as a friend and as a drug.

After my gastric bypass, I can't do that any longer. I must deal with each issue of my life as it arises and I'm getting better at it. It's still a pain in the ass and I wish very often that I could escape, but if it's one lesson I've learned over the last two years, it's that I can't escape.

I helped a friend through a difficult situation last week. She did something she wasn't proud of and needed to talk about it. I didn't judge her, it's really not up to me to judge anyone, but she didn't want to think of the situation's cause. There was a specific reason she did what she did. And once she made that connection, the whole thing became easier to deal with. She called me a few days later to thank me for not letting her wallow in the outcome.

This is how I've chosen to live with the rest of my life. If I ignore situations, or try to escape them, they grow and fester and become much, MUCH bigger than they were originally. They start to overwhelm me and there's simply no room in my complicated life right now for overwhelming situations.

On a lighter note, I think I'm ready to start dating again. I even have my eyes set on someone, but, of course, I haven't seen him since I decided it would be a good idea to have coffee with him. Who knows what will happen, but I guess the bigger point to get across is that I think I've healed enough to entertain the idea of companionship again. My ex will always be a part of my life by virtue of us having a child together, but that doesn't mean that I can't share my time with someone.

So, in essence, what I'm trying to say is that life is good. It's trying, it's busy, it's complicated...but it's bright and happy and good...

Movin' On...

2007-02-28T14:07:00.000-05:00

I began the process of moving on with my life in July of 2006, when I ended my eight year marriage.

If I only knew then what I know now...

That action began a journey of self-discovery that astounds me almost every day. I have more respect from my family and friends and, most importantly, I have more self respect.

Life isn't meant to be lived in the shadows. It's meant to be dealt with head-on. That's how you get to life your fullest life. Attack problems with positive energy and the results will be so bright, they'll almost blind you.

I am a better mother, a better daughter, a better friend, a better employee...all because I learned to be honest with myself. I thought I was kidding everyone, but those who love me most saw right through me, and they knew I was full of shit. But now, I have a "Take No Enemies" mentality. I will help anyone who wants help and will guide anyone who wants guidance. I will no longer expend my precious energy on anyone who isn't willing to expend their own energy on themselves. I will no longer be held responsible for anyone's happiness. Everyone is responsible for themselves. One needs to do whatever will make them happy, but that person must accept the consequences of his/her actions.

I found my backbone in the last 7 months. I try to fill my life with light and grace. I meditate on things that trouble me. I stop and put the focus on myself when I need it. I see the joy in all of life's little gifts. I concentrate on what I want rather that what I don't want.

I don't carry around any emotional baggage. I don't let anyone push me around anymore, I don't let anyone reduce my self worth or self esteem, and I don't carry grudges for people who try to do these things to me.

I move away from the toxicity...and move on...

De-Cluttering Your Life

2007-02-08T09:31:00.002-05:00

I swear, I just love Oprah. Sure, she's got bazillions of dollars to spend on real estate and jewelry and clothes and shoes, but she knows about the hard life too. As I recall, she grew up dirt poor in Mississippi, was abused and was told she's never amount to anything.

And just now look at her; she's at the pinnacle of her career. In all her wealth and power, she finds ways to relate to the American Woman.

Yesterday's episode was about de-cluttering your home and in turn, de-cluttering your life. They spotlighted this family of 6, who had more stuff than I thought possible. 18 year old sweatpants, every toy their daughters ever had, and they're oldest (twins) are 9. Oprah got this organizational guru to go into their home and get rid of the crap. And what the couple didn't realize is that they were putting their focus on all the wrong things; all the things that they might need one day. It was an amazing transformation, watching this mother realizing why she was saving all this stuff.

I did a purge 6 months ago when my ex moved out. He liked to save things: sale circulars, clothes he knew full well he would never wear again, old shoes that were worn out. Our home was constantly covered in papers, I just couldn't keep on top of the mess so I fed into it.

Well, once he was gone, I filled 3 or 4 garbage bags with stuff that I was never going to use. I just chucked it all. I went through my closet and gave away all the clothes that didn't fit or that I hadn't worn in a year; looking back, I probably got rid of half my wardrobe. I went into my daughter's room and filled a garbage bag of stuffed animals that she's never touched let alone played with. I gave away clothes, toys, baby equipment...tons of stuff.

I felt so much better when I was done.

I told a girlfriend that I was doing all this deep cleaning and she responded, "No, honey, you're not cleaning, you're cleansing."

Wow, it was an a-ha moment. She was absolutely right. I was sweeping all the bad energy out of my home to make way for good, positive energy.

That realization gave me the strength to go into my nemesis room, the 3rd bedroom that was supposed to my my home office. It became a walk-in closet, full of books, boxes and clothes. It was like that for 3 years. I went in there with a vengeance and got rid of even more stuff, most of it being true garbage so I kicked it to the curb.

My home and my life are nowhere near perfect. I still have dust under my living room sofa, I still have blank walls where I'd like to hang pictures, and I still don't have bedroom curtains. But my aura and my feng shui is straighter that it's been in a really long time and even if it's a little off center, it's ok. I'm not striving for perfection, I don't believe perfection exists. I'm just trying to make my home into a haven, a safe place, a soft place to fall...

Learning to Deal...

2007-02-07T14:47:00.000-05:00

If it's one thing I've learned in the last few years, it's that you must deal with issues as soon as you're able. You can't keep sweeping stuff under the rug, otherwise, when you least expect it, you'll trip over the lump onthe floor and fall on your face.

Someone who used to be close to me learned that lesson yesterday. This person is in serious financial trouble because the issues were ignored.

Difficulties (financial, emotional, physical, spiritual) need to be addressed.

I learned this lesson the hard way. I ignored my emotional being for about 10 years. I ate to suppress all that was ugly; I used food as a coping mechanism. Then I had gastric bypass and I HAD to learn to cope; food couldn't be my friend anymore. I taught myself to meditate. I'm not sure if I'm doing it correctly, but whatever I'm doing works for me. I rediscovered my love of cooking and started to prepare foods that truly nourished me, body and soul. I started venturing out on walks again. Taking a hot bath on a Saturday night with a good book and an icy margarita can also soothe the soul. Learning to appreciate all the little things came with all of these other lessons.

For me, this era of my life feels like a do-over. You remember, when the ball went out of bounds when you were a kid and we all shouted, "DO-OVER!!"

I gave myself the gift of a second chance at being an adult. This time I am a single mom, but much more self-assured. I don't have as much money, but realized that shopping shouldn't be a hobby. I've learned that getting up and going to work day after day, year after year is one of the hardest things you have to do. I've realized that no one is responsible for my happiness but me. I've come to the conclusion that the line from Jerry Maguire that says, "You complete me..." does a huge disservice to those who are comfortable in their own skin. I'm complete all by mahverahownself.

Life is hard enough; why not deal with whatever issues you having and then move on with a clear head?

Enjoying My Life As It It Right Now...

2007-01-16T14:36:00.000-05:00

I'm learning to handle being alone. Please don't confuse it with loneliness; I'm not lonely, just alone. I wanted this and believe me, I'm not complaining about it. But my life has changed in the last 6 months like I never thought it would. I don't think I have gone out once on a Saturday night since my marriage ended, but I'm not all that upset about it. I'm doing the things I want to do: eating the the restaurants where I want to eat, seeing the movies I want to see, I'm knitting without any snide comments, I read in bed with the light on and I keep hand lotion on almost every flat surface of my apartment.

FRU and I had a nice weekend together. I took her shopping with me, we played a few board games, watched a few movies (actually, we watched the same movie over and over...ok, she watched the same movie over and over and I napped), we made marshmallow rice crispie treats...we simply did fun stuff, without any schedules. She even tried a new food on Saturday. I had heated up a bowl of leftover lo mein and she asked for some. I was shocked; she has eaten nothing but chicken nuggets and PB&J with no crusts for months now. I gladly shared my lunch and lo and behold, she liked it. So much so that when I asked her what she wanted for dinner last night, she said "That Chinese spaghetti stuff." She ended up having chicken nuggets, and got a promise that I'd get her some lo mein the next time I ordered take-out.

As I was watching the Golden Globe Awards last night, I got to thinking...Life is Good. It's that simple. I know so many people who are having troubles right now, but life is on a pretty even keel for me right now. I have a routine, and I don't freak out when that routine is disrupted. I am enjoying the simple things right now and I'm appreciating them more then ever. When I shut the light off the other night and finished saying my prayers, it warmed my heart that I didn't say any for me. I prayed for those who need them, but I didn't say any for me. I said my thanks for my strength, my health and my beautiful child...but I didn't ask God for anything.

Anything I need I can do or get for myself. It took me an awful long time to get to this place in my life, but I'm liking the scenery and I think I'll stay here a while.

Oh, The Possibilities...

2007-01-12T15:28:00.000-05:00

Today is Friday and it's right before the long MLK Day weekend.

What is it about 3 day weekends that get everybody so crazy? Is it because a) they can say "Naner, naner" to the alarm clock on Monday morning? or b) because they can get some project done, like painting the living room or laying kitchen floor tiles? Or c) because they have a extra 24 hours to goof off?

I'm going with "c"...at least that's why I get so worked up about them. I have an extra night to watch movies, more time to do fun stuff with my child and one extra day to wear jeans.

Oh, the possibilities of an extra 24 hours. It's like a gift from God.

When I was a kid, MLK Day wasn't a federal holiday. It was celebrated in school and we learned about the Civil Right Movement and how Dr. King's words affected the way society treated those who look different than our founding fathers.

It was a loooooong stretch between Christmas break and the long President's Day weekend. Six weeks of snow, cold and misery. When I was in high school, MLK's Birthday was declared a National Holiday. All of a sudden winter didn't seem, so bad. We got a nice little break to either play in the snow or to never leave the house.

Now that I'm a grown-up (shhh, don't tell anyone!), those long weekends help the time pass like few things can. They help mark the passage of seasons and years. Many come with parades and traditions. There are barbeques in summer, sales in the fall, and skiing in winter. The possibilities are endless.

For me, though, it's all about the possibility of goofing off and not getting trouble...

Coming Back to Center...

2007-01-11T11:53:00.000-05:00

Earlier this week I was ranting and raving about dealing with the needs of others. Then I got some sense knocked into me...FRU got sick. It was just a virus but it was enough to keep her out of commission for 2 days. That brought me back to center.

Having to take care of a sick, helpless child is enough to humble anyone. Hearing the words, "Mommy, I trew up a little" at 4:35am sent me into panic mode. My child has hardly vomited at all so when she does, it's bad. I brought her to bed and never went back to sleep. I just watched her, ready to spring into lifesaving procedures if necessary.

Thinking about this got me to thinking about the different aspect of parenting. My parenting style is rather relaxed. I don't run wind sprints to the pediatrician every time FRU has a sniffle or a cough. Some parents would have had their child in the ER within minutes. Still, other parents would have done nothing, sent their child to school, hoping they wouldn't get a phone call to come pick him/her up.

When FRU gets sick, I react by getting a little crazy, then I try to bring it all into focus: What are her symptoms? Is she very uncomfortable? Is she drinking/eating? Does she have a fever? Once I have the basic questions answered, I can make a judgement about how to deal with her illness. She's only 4, so if you ask her what's wrong, she says, "I sick." When my father asked why she was staying home from school, she said, "I got 2 sicks." That translates to "I threw up twice."

Being a parent has humbles me in countless ways. There are many times I couldn't give a damn about how I look, but FRU was dressed to the nines. I have eaten week-old Chinese take-out, but FRU can get a fresh grilled cheese for breakfast if she wanted it.

I know certain women were not cut out for parenting. They make great aunts or godmothers or cousins or babysitters...but they simply can't parent.

Knowing that FRU I'm a good mother is always enough to bring me back to center. Knowing she thinks I'm fun and silly and the cat's pajamas is icing on the cake...

Someone Else's Needs

2007-01-08T10:04:00.000-05:00

I'm in a place in my life when everyone needs something from me.

Since I broke up with my ex, FRU has needed me more than ever. She no longer wants to sleep at anyone' s house (she used to have sleepovers at my parents' house and my aunt's house quite frequently) and wants no one else to put her in her car seat, to fold her laundry or make her PB&J sandwiches. I don't mind these tasks. I feel that it's part of my job as her mother to try to help her understand the confusing world we live in and to help her navigate through it..

But it seems that everyone else in the world needs something from me. Family, friends, co-workers. I have to be the one to make phone calls to unpleasant relatives, I have to be the one who has to figure how to make ends meet, I have to be the one who has to remember to bring the blanket to day care.

I need to be the one who gets taken care of once in a while. It would be nice to feel cherished. It would be great if I could finish a sentence before someone cuts me off. I'd love to be able to watch a movie all the way through without having to pause it for any reason.

I want everyone in my life to just do whatever it is that needs to be done without asking me any questions and without my assistance.

Oh wait, tonight I get a break. Someone else is picking up FRU at school and giving her dinner...BECAUSE I NEED TO GO TO THE DENTIST...what kind of break is that? It's a pathetic one...I'm actually looking forward to going to the dentist just so I can get some alone time. I can drive with the radio on MY station and can sing at the top of my lungs if I want. That's my alone time...big whoop...

Hopes for the New Year

2007-01-05T12:04:00.000-05:00

Every year, many people make resolutions: to quit smoking, to exercise more regularly, to get a hold of their finances, to not get caught up in any drama.

Well, I vow to do all of these...

I quit smoking in mid-November and vow to remain smoke-free. Maybe a few months from now, I can smoke a cigarette or two without it becoming a habit again. But for now, NO CIGGIES!!!

I need to start exercising on a regular basis. I like how exercise makes me feel, I just hate doing it. I have the clothes and I have the machine; I figure all I need is some motivation...now, if only I could buy motivation, it would make things so much easier.

And that last statement leads me to my next: I will continue to work on getting my finances under even tighter control. I can manage to make it from one pay period to another with a few bucks leftover but my goal is to actually save something, even if it's just $20. I have reigned in my spending and have started little tricks to avoid unnecessary spending (carry lots of pennies so you get lots of quarters as change from your purchases; save $5 bills so you won't need to hit the ATM as often) and I can see the benefits of these tricks already.

As for drama, sometimes it's unavoidable, we all know that. Drama is something that some people thrive on and that others avoid like the plague. I think I fall in the middle. I like having all the attention on me sometimes but there are also times when I want to sit in the back of Starbucks and read and have no one notice me. My vow is to not create drama. I'm on the road to rediscovering myself after spending 10 years with a man who isn't in touch with his emotions and therefore made me believe that it wasn't okay for me to be in touch with mine. There's no place for drama in my life right now. I'm raising a little girl, I work full-time, I have a household to run and I'd like to have a bit of time for myself. It's all about balance, and learning that lesson can be quite eye-opening!!

I have great hopes for 2007 (2006 was especially hard) and am willing to put in the work to make it as fabulous as possible. New beginnings are filled with hope and now, at the cusp of a new sense of wonderment, I am filled with hope too.

Well, I survived...

2006-12-26T13:22:00.000-05:00

Christmas was challenging this year, but in a good way...

It was the first Christmas since my ex and I split up. I came across the tree ornaments and the tree topper that we bought together and got a little misty-eyed, thinking of the good times we had together. We had fewer and fewer good times in the last two or three years, but it was still sad to have that bit of finality on our marriage.

I cooked on Christmas Eve with my mother and we had a good time. We made scallops wrapped in bacon, homemade caesar salad (including the dressing and croutons from scratch) and a huge pot of Seafood Fra Diavolo sauce that I served over linguini. I just love cooking. I enjoyed every morsel. After dinner and dessert and also after FRU went to sleep, I arranged all the gifts under the tree. I just love doing that; everything has to be just so. Then I started cooking again! I put pork shoulder in the crock pot for BBQ Pulled Pork. I let it cook all night and my family just loved it.

I had a relatively easy time emotionally. Christmas Eve is my favorite day of the whole year. I used to help my now deceased Italian grandparents prepare the traditional fish dinner and just thinking of them on that day makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. I know they were watching me, I could just feel them.

Christmas is so hard on so many people. All the bad blood from the whole year comes to the surface. But I stayed true to myself and I didn't spend it with anyone who was toxic to my inner peace. I felt peace this holiday, for the first time in a long time.

And that, I believe, is the true meaning of Christmas...

Why Girlfriends Can Save Your Sanity...

2006-12-18T10:13:00.000-05:00

I went to a movie with a girlfriend on Saturday. I picked her up and we saw The Holiday with Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet. It was a silly, sappy romantic comedy but we both loved it. We laughed together through the whole thing and while I cried at the end, she laughed at me and that got me to laughing at myself. She said her husband would have hated it and I know my ex would have certainly hated it too. But it was just what the doctor ordered.

Getting my house, my family, my mind and my heart ready for Christmas is really hard work. There is all the physical labor (lugging out the dusty boxes from the garage and decorating the house), plus all the emotional labor (the arguing with family members and remembering those loved ones who have passed on). The emotional labor is the hardest to recover from.

But I spoke with a girlfriend in Georgia on Friday and even though we're both getting divorced and sometimes feel like we're living on the edge of a huge abyss and we're about to fall off, we both had lots to share and laugh about.

The laughter is what binds us all together. When someone makes us forget our troubles, even if it's just for a minute or two, that's enough to get us through the next rough patch.

I've had many girlfriends in my life who have carried me through. I got a card from one the other day and even though I haven't set eyes in her in over 10 years, she is still my summer sister and will always be. I looked at her picture and I was immediately transported back to Camp Henry Kaufman in upstate New York; I could even smell the musty smell that we never could get out of our clothes. She's now a wife and mother and lives about 2000 miles away. I wonder if we'll ever see each other again, face-to-face. Even if we don't, I still cherish that bond.

The girlfriend I went to the movies with on Saturday must have sensed my anxiety about Christmas and my ex and cooking and wrapping, etc. She made me laugh and bought me a coffee, mixed exactly the way I like it. I lived with my ex for 10 years and he never bothered to learn how I like my coffee. But this girlfriend did and she got one for me, and in the process, made me feel cherished and loved and it gave me just a bit of strength to get me through the next week. She doesn't realize the power that stupid and long gone cup of coffee gave me. Maybe I can get her a cup of coffee one day that will do the same for her.

Laughing at the expense of others (aka Tales of This Year's Holiday Party)

2006-12-15T09:43:00.000-05:00

I work in a cardiac unit in a hospital and last night was the annual holiday party. For the first time, someone else planned the whole thing and I could attend as a guest. The venue was hip and fun, the food was fabulous (Thai seafood) and all of my co-workers were on their best behavior...except one. Why is it that at every single office holiday party I've ever attended or heard about, there's always that one person who makes a complete fool of him/herself? They probably don't drink a drop of alcohol all year, but have 3-4 cosmopolitans at the party thinking they can handle it.

Well, they can't...and this person keeps us laughing all year long. You can hear this statement being uttered on the 4Th of July: "Remember so-and-so at the Christmas party...he/she got plastered and danced a Bulgarian folk dance with those dull people from Accounting."

I always feel bad laughing at these people, but they give us so much material. I mean, if someone passes out in the restroom with their pantyhose 'round their ankles, do they really think their co-workers are ever going to let them forget it?!? And for the record, this did not happen to my co-worker last night, I was just being sarcastic.

I feel badly for the person who had too much to drink last night and she was sitting at a table full of registered nurses and CV techs so I know she was well-cared for and would get home safely...but, by George, I'm just glad it wasn't me.

Why is Christmas so emotionally draining?

2006-12-13T09:23:00.000-05:00

I burst into tears last night for no good reason. Not just tears, but heart-wrenching sobs. All from watchig the Terri Irwin interview on the Barbara Walters special. She said that she misses the fun that she used to have with Steve. I miss having fun too.

Most of my time is spent taking care of others: I'm the assistant to the unit director of a cardiac unit in a hospital, I support about 10 other people at the hospital, I have a 4 year old, an ex-husband with no short-term memory and family members who love to guilt me into doing things for them. The only thing I do for myself is manicures, and I only do that once every 2-3 weeks. I used to go to the movies a lot, but all the Christmas tasks have gotten in the way of doing that lately.

Christmas brings up all kinds of memories, both good and bad. Families tend to try to bridge gaps during this time with varied amounts of success. My family is no exception. There are people I just don't want to deal with, and at this stage of my life, I'm no in the mood for playing games. I'm not going to pretend to like someone just because they are family and I'm not going to be forced to break bread with them at the dinner table. I lied to myself for a long time with disastrous results and I'm not doing it anymore. There are members of my family that are just plain destructive, and I won't subject myself to that any longer. I'm sick of pretending, I'm sick of kidding myself and I'm not going to perpetuate the insanity by subjecting my daughter to it.

Perhaps this is a hard stance, but I just don't want to live in a world of make-believe. Why should I pretend that my family is great and all is well when it's really not. Some members of the family get treated better than others and I want them to know that I won't tolerate being treated like a second class citizen any longer.

But on to nicer and more pleasant things. I need to purchase one more gift. FRU asked for two things for Christmas: A dancing Genevieve Doll (huh?) and a Snow White Dress. My ex found the doll; thank heavens, because I didn't know what da hail she was talking about. I'm going to find her the dress today. Then I'm really REALLY done shopping...and then, let the wrapping begin. You know, the process by which all gifts are wrapped in pretty paper, only to have it all torn off within seconds and stuffed into the garbage. I swear, whenever I think of whoever came up with the all-Christmas-gifts-must-be-wrapped rule, I hope they have a nice warm spot on the bench sitting next to Brutus in the ninth ring of hell!!!

Folks, let's start a new tradition this year. Spend Christmas with whomever makes you happy. Don't do any pretending. Do not, under any circumstances, feel that it's necessary to wrap any present that are bigger than your dining room table. And last but not least, remember to hit the liquor store to stock up on your favorite potion...it makes the holidays soooo much more tolerable...

My Inaugural Post

2006-12-12T13:47:00.000-05:00

I've recently discovered that I love reading the blogs of others. Writers seems to put a lot of themselves out there on the 'Net. So I thought I'd give it a try.

Life has a funny way of getting in the way of EVERYTHING. I'm usually too tired at the end of an average day to take a hot bath; that seems so pathetic. I'm a single mom now (my soon-to-be-ex) husband moved out in late July and I have primary custody of our 4 year old daughter, who I will refer to (probably often) as FRU, which is short for Fruit Roll-Up, her favorite food. It's just a nickname I came up with when I started posting on a message board.

FRU is the light of my life. When I look back on certain decisions that I've made, they all lead to her conception. I believe, in my heart of hearts, that I was supposed to have that baby, at that point in time. She was concieved 3 months after the terror attacks that brought down the World Trade Center and damaged the Pentagon and she was born shortly after the 1st anniversary of that tragic events.

Now, every decision that has to be made, is made with FRU in mind. Can I do (fill in the blank) and still be home in time to put her to bed; how will she react to a cerain person or activity or task. But she makes me laugh...she has shown me unconditional love like I have never known...she has given me the gift of HER childhood. I get to relive my own childhood through her. I've rediscovered the joys of PB&J (no crust), the smell of crayons, and all those Christmas specials on TV, like A Charlie Brown Christmas, which I recorded so we can watch it over and over.

Ah, yes, life is exhausting and it takes all I have to get through the day, but then I pick FRU up from pre-school and somehow she gives some of that infamous pre-schooler energy and I flourish through the next few hours. She doesn't realize how much she gives me...I sometimes wonder if I'm capable of giving as much to her.