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

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...

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...

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...

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

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

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

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.