Tuesday, October 25, 2011

2 Years? Ooooooops.....

"History ain't nothin' but some pages and I don't wanna read 'em anyway. And since that was then and this is now, I'm just happy to be with you today." ~Rich Cronin

Wow. So I did predict when I started this that it would be the victim of much neglect. Looks like the last post sitting here was from 2009. Ooops?

Well, it could be an indication of many things. Could mean I've been too busy living...or perhaps it could mean that some things, committed to text, seem more real. I just stopped or a second to figure out where I was standing in January of 2009 and how to fill in the blanks between there and 2011. My head spun. I could write a NOVEL.

Key words for that time span: self exploration as well as discovery; nothingness as well as passion, love as well as heartbreak, joy as well as sadness, immeasurable gifts as well as immeasurable loss, charity as well as self-need, tears as well as laughter. I guess it's all a matter of yin/yang. Feel free to play a game of Mad Libs with these words if you wish.

So forward motion is where it's at. Not that I don't enjoy reflecting on the past two years sometimes. In fact, I even find myself reviewing some of the pain and hardest of those seven-hundred-something days because during the moments when I feel most like a hamster on a wheel, it reminds me of how far from that place I have landed. Apparently I really was swimming rather than treading water.

This week marks the start of yet another chapter for me. One of the most beautiful things about it is that in the past, there were very few chapters. They were just short stories. Each one new and with a different cast of characters; a varied mental setting. This time, I'm going for a bigger masterpiece. A journey, if you will, where there are some common denominators. The relationships I have built will carry on through the story. I am sure the yin/yang will be present....but the happiness continues to outweigh the negative.

To be continued.....


Thursday, January 8, 2009

Bull-Sh*t


I am a Taurus.  That makes me the sign of the bull.  Whatever.

Here's my horror-scope today.  Ready?

"You prefer to know that your feelings are consistent because you want your actions to be based on a reliable foundation. Unfortunately, your emotions seem to change today as you gather more information. Instead of stubbornly holding on to your point of view now, your reactions become less predictable as the day wears on. Don't make any long-lasting decisions unless you absolutely must; your current answer isn't necessarily your final one."

Huh?  Albeit somewhat true, I could have summed it up much more succinctly.  PMS.

There ya have it.

I should write for Hallmark.  Seriously.

xo kiddies!
Until next time.....

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Aunt Josie's Napkin Rings

My aunt Josephine died shortly after I got engaged.  It was an incredibly sad time for me....I loved her tremendously.   She was not able to attend an engagement party my mother gave me.  Partly because of her pancreatic cancer, partly because of the ice storm which hit Long Island the morning of.  But, she sent with my cousin, a box wrapped in silver paper with a vibrant red bow.  In it, 12 Lenox porcelain napkin rings to match my fine china.  I remember opening that package and reflecting on how it was like Aunt Josie to find something slightly quirky but still within the expected train of thought.  I had not registered for napkin rings; I did not know Lenox made them.  They were a unique and pleasant surprise.

I suppose the napkin rings acquired even more sentimental value to me after she passed away.  My cousin Phyllis (her daughter) has her shrimp dip recipe which she will not share with anyone.  My sister (and Aunt Josie's god-daughter) has a gold an diamond ring (actually once belonging to Phyllis) which my aunt wore often.  Other family members have assorted trinkets.  I have the napkin rings.  And, at various points in my life, the napkin rings have been the subject of my attention.  After I got married, we moved into a condo where there was not enough room for a china cabinet.  For several years all of the china remained in storage at my grandmother's house.  When we moved into our much larger home, we brought everything from Nana's and for some reason I could not find the box of napkin rings.  I cried over them because of the sentiment they held for me.  After several return trips and searching, the box turned up.  I lost them again when we moved to my current house.  Just recently, I found the box marked "fragile" which was of course at the bottom of a stack of non-fragile things (go figure).  There they were - perfectly protected, the platinum rims shiny and brand new.  I put them in the china cabinet for some special occasion.  That special occasion was today.

Did I ever mention that I hate chain emails?  (No, I don't have ADD...stick with me.)  I delete without reading most of them.  I am most definitely damned to hell for hitting the [x] on just about all of the ones with the picture of the Virgin Mary which asks me to pass the lady along to ten more people who need hope in their lives.  Perhaps this is why my luck as been as it has.  But still, they tick me off.  I got one this morning (not with VM by the way) and for whatever reason I read the story which amounted to a man going through his wife's underwear drawer (or something like that anyway.)  Fast forward to the end, there was some special nightie she was saving for a special occasion and now he was looking for underwear to take to the funeral home.  The underwear drawer thing creeped me out a little bit but the message......wear your favorite nighty because you never know what tomorrow brings...stuck with me today twofold.  First, I made a note to self to clean out my drawers.   I could get hit by a bus tomorrow and someone might be rifling through there.  Second, (I told you I had a connection to reach) use the good china today.  Pull out the sterling.  Admire the napkin rings.  And I did.  And as my grandmother was insisting that I not bother using the fine ivory porcelain and platinum dessert plates as they too would have to be hand washed and a hassle, I turned around and in slow motion watched one of the napkin rings fall from the shelf in the china cabinet, hit the ceramic tile and shatter.

For a split second I wanted to cry.  They were from Aunt Josie.  What a way to start a new year, breaking something so dear to me.  They had been lost and then found and then lost and then found......now......broken.  And a replacement just wouldn't be the same, even if I could find one 15 years later.  It would be from a warehouse, not from my aunt, after whom I named my daughter (middle name anyway).  Shattered porcelain on the floor.

For the better part of today, another email I received this morning has been sitting in my heart and head.  It was from a friend I love dearly and suggested that perhaps the symbolic relevance of a New Year should be pointed more towards taking personal inventories of our proverbial blessings and less focused on making empty pledges of new beginnings.  This caused me to pause quite a few times during this day with my family, eating off of the good china, one napkin ring short.  While thinking about this newly passed 2008, nothing tangible even entered my mind.  The gifts I cherish from this past year are all gifts of the heart.  None were wrapped in shiny silver paper.  None had red bows.  All had an impact on my heart.

I might consider 2008 the year of lost and found, the broken and fixed.  It was probably around January when I found the napkin rings again.  Perhaps Aunt Josie is speaking to me from beyond with these things, nudging me to reflect on that which matters most. . . .

This year I found an old friend.  We'd lost touch about 10 years ago and when we made plans to meet for dinner this past April, I was ecstatic.  We sat in that restaurant for hours, catching up on a decade's worth of trials and triumphs.  We both had illness, we both had joys.  How could I not have been there for her when she was going through hard times?  What was going on in my ten years that wedged between two people who were once so close?  I don't know.  And she doesn't care either.  We have picked up from where we left off, only both recognizing that life is too precious and too short to waste time trying to figure out why we drifted apart.  And today, I can't imagine my life without her in it.  I will never lose her again.

This year I found an old lover, my first to be exact.  The circumstances that separated us need not be revisited; he and I have already done that.  For us, 19 years has happened between the last goodbye and this new hello and when he responded to my reaching out to him this summer, I was so grateful.  I felt as though something horribly broken had finally been fixed.  What was going on in my 19 years that prevented me from reaching out sooner?  I don't know.  And (I think) he doesn't care.  We have found the friendship - the part we did right so long ago.  And today, I don't want to imagine my life without him in it.  I will never lose him again.

This year I found an old aquaintence.  We didn't have a real friendship that I can recall.  I think I had a crush on him when I was 16 though.  (haha)  Come on, a girl can only be smitten when a cute boy from the one hour photo where she works draws her a cartoon pickle!  The pickle would be celebrating its 20th birthday now and this year he has made me laugh more times than I can count.  What was going on in my 20 years that I didn't think to find him, and how many times had I looked at that sharpie-drawn cartoon and smirk?  I don't know.  And he doesn't care.  We have traded confidences and with a six hour time difference, I am lucky to find smiles when I wake up and start a new day with a grin.  Today I wouldn't even imagine not sharing my intimate thoughts or reaching out for good avocado recipes.  I will never lose him again.

I also found a new friend from an old time.  She was actually one of my sister's good friends back in the day and the spirit of a little boy who at the time, neither of us met, connected us in an important mission.  What a coincidence that we have hope in similar causes.  What a gift she has been to me.

This year, one of my best friends whom I love incredibly, got broken again.  He's been through so much in the past few years and this time, the prospect of losing him shook me to my core.  I don't know why this time more than the others.  Maybe because we are closer now, maybe because it was random and stupid rather than following a carefully delivered diagnosis.  And thankfully, once again, he was fixed.  This made me realize, once again, never to let a day go by without telling the people we love, not only that we do, but why.  Every night I pray that these experiences are behind him and that every tomorrow brings health and happiness.   This friendship or partnership, whatever you want to call it, is one of my most cherished gifts.  I will never let that get lost.  Ever.

This past year I have given love and I have received it exponentially.  I have reconnected with many people who I realized have never left my heart.  I have lost, I have grieved and I have been frightened.  But when forced to reflect, I have more in my heart than ever.  

Dear Aunt Josie,

I started off this new year breaking one of the napkin rings.   While it made me sad that one has been lost for real this time, it made me be grateful that there are still 11.  It made me realize that just when I get a bit too cocky, I will probably break something.  I may not mean to do damage.  I may not mean to hurt people in the process.  It might happen though.  If you have the ability, wherever you are now, to send me the wisdom to recognize the gaps which may develop between me and the people I love, the strength to build bridges before the gaps are too wide, and the passion to inspire my telling everyone how much they mean to me each and every day, please do.  I will receive those gifts graciously.  I will be more careful next time, rejoicing in the use of the lovely and quirky napkin rings.  I will find special occasions in regular days, use the good china often and always remember your spirit.

To Annie, to Larry, to Rich, to Jonathan, to Dari, to all the people who make my life so blessed.  You are forever in my heart, even when the miles are many; even when lots of time goes by.  I love you all.

Happy New Year


Monday, September 8, 2008

Little Desks and Water Fountains


Tonight was "Back to School" night at my childrens' elementary school. We had to divide and conquer. It can't be completely unheard of that one family would have two children in the same elementary school, right? Regardless, all of the presentations were scheduled at the same time. 6:00pm. I got to pick where I wanted to go, the choices being my son's first grade class or my daughter's kindergarten room. I might be a horrible person for having Mr. 6'4" go to the kindergarten room and sit in the tiny plastic chairs. Oh well. At least he got apple juice....it's a trade off.

As I was sitting at Mikey's little desk with all his little books, crayons and the like, I started to scan the room. For a few moments it was like people watching at the mall. I looked around at the other adults with their knees to their chins (mostly moms) and I began to feel completely out of place. I felt like, "I'm not really a mom, but I play one on TV." I had no idea what the lives of these other people entailed (with the exception of one, who happens to be a friend of mine with a daughter in the same class) but I found myself trying to figure out their story from their faces, their clothes, the questions they asked which ranged from birthday cupcakes to methods for teaching math. I felt incredibly out of place.

I'll begin by saying that I think I live in a community where stay-at-home-motherhood actually exists. It must. There were at least five women who jumped at the chance to be the class mom, thus committing to read stories to the class at noon, bring in cupcakes for birthday parties at 2:00pm, go on field trips excursions departing at 9:00 am and returning in the afternoon. I imagined if this would ever be possible for me. Definitely not the two days a week I travel to Boston, or on the days which follow the nights I'm at a show where an artist started his first set at 11:00 pm.

Then I noticed that I, at age 35, was one of the youngest mothers in the room. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I just use an exceptional alpha-hydroxy. I do have this mane of very long hair which my mother keeps reminding me is not fit for a mid-thirties woman. I disagree; I have never colored it and it is quite shiny so me thinks it should stay. Anyway. It was evident that a lot of the parents had been down this road before with their older children. This was a first for me.

For the ride home, I started to wonder if I've been doing this whole thing wrong from the get go. I never went to Mommy & Me classes or Gymboree type establishments. I hope I wasn't just too overly involved in my crazy career and a jet-setting lifestyle to meet their little needs. Michael did not meet the likes of Chuck E. Cheese until he was 6. But he did meet Steven Tyler before he was 2. He's been to Indianapolis, Indiana and Frankenmuth, Michigan. (Yes that's a real place and a story for another blog - remind me.) Hell, he has been in the Jungle Room at Graceland, the Redwoods of Northern California and backstage at more concert halls than most adults. Am I really the crazy mom? Come on - every school had one or two. Am I it? Have Michael and Sarah missed something essential to their formative years? No wee one soccer games. But they've been to Jets games. Ughhhhh!!!!! Have I robbed them?

They don't seem maladjusted in any way. Maybe they will just grow up appreciating that I'm not a "hockey mom" either with or without lipstick. I am most uncomfortable making idle chit-chat about home improvements with the neighbors. I would NEVER survive the PTA. I start to feel claustrophobic most Sunday afternoons so we hardly stay within our four walls. Sarah doesn't go for ballet lessons, but we have our own hysterical dance parties. Michael doesn't play t-ball on a team, but I'm a hell of a pitcher for a mom and he's got a hell of an arm. I don't have a glue gun and couldn't knit to save my life. We laugh at the dinner table, sometimes inappropriately, and somehow even I get drenched when they're getting their baths.

I don't know. Maybe I'm doing it all wrong. I just know they are happy. I just know they know how to love, they're not afraid to say it and they go to bed every night with a giggle. I guess that's all that really matters.



Monday, August 18, 2008

It's Been a While

Panic

For the most part I pride myself on being wonderwoman. I've been taking it all in, taking it all on, taking it all in stride, etc. for quite some time and finally figure that my motor runs on pure adrenaline. Or Starbucks. Whatever. But for some reason, it all came crashing down and suddenly I couldn't breathe. I can't identify any one particular trigger but am pretty sure that it was born from a feeling that there were too many people, things, projects, even pets, completely dependent on me for something. I'm the caregiver, the bill payer, the mom, the partner, the tour guide, the punching bag, the hostage negotiator, the repair man, the therapist, the chef, the entertainment....and so on. How did I get here? How do I get out of here? Like the Jetsons: JANE STOP THIS CRAZY THING!

The problem, if I might shrink myself, is my lack of available compartmentalization. The same arms and hearts I'd seek for solace are attached to the same faces and souls who need me. I could ask questions like, "why don't they realize that for one brief fleeting moment, there's something I need?" but that is selfish and a waste of energy. See, I've been billing myself as the one who can handle it all. Why would they even think the rubber band might snap? It never has before.

Annoyance

When did society become made up of a herd of bulls in china shops? When did people stop being courteous and begin barreling through life with their physical being, their beliefs, their ideas....without any regard for those they trample in the process?

My mistake today was going to Wal-Mart to buy dog food. What is this crazy place? Is there a poison gas pumped into this hell which turns otherwise normal and productive people into Wal-Martians? First, what is with the folks who seemingly have two good legs, but feel the need to procure a motorized cart with a basket to collect their frozen pizzas and toilet paper? Are they for real? Don't get me wrong, I am sure there are people who truly need such a service and I am happy it exists for them. But believe me when I say that I saw a woman, probably mid 50s, park her motorized cart, get up and walk out the door without a limp. Seriously. In addition, there was a lady on line who walked right into me to get to a refrigerated case of diet coke, slammed me with the door and kept walking. And the kicker, was a table set up near the parking lot with a woman barking at me (pardon the pun) to donate money to an animal shelter. Save the dogs. Save the cats. We're a no kill shelter. Please help us save them. In the mean time, her young child (maybe 6 or 7) was running around in traffic. Um. Lady.... save your kid. Whoa.

Laughter

My daughter has quite the imagination. She told me today that the Jonas Brothers love her. While I'm sure they appreciate the income from the backpack, lunch box and four (count 'em....4) t-shirts I've purchased, I'm not sure they know or love anyone in my family. Sarah says they love her. How does she know this? Because they texted her. (Duh.) "Yeah mom, they texted me today and said I love you Sarah so that's how I know they love me." I asked to see said text and she handed me an old dead cell phone her dad gave her to play with. Then she demanded it back because it was ringing. You guessed it. It was Hannah Montana. Apparently she loves Sarah too. Good thing.

Parallels

Stupid survey friend question of the week: "What song best describes how you are feeling right now?" The answer to this one changes minute to minute. I never said I wasn't moody. Ha! Right this second.... "New Shoes" by Nine Days. The music is pop-ish and campy but right now I relate.

Until next time . . .


Tuesday, July 29, 2008

A Really Stoopid Friend Survey

Why am I never able to delete these without filling them out? Here's one of the dumber ones. Enjoy.

How big are your dads feet?
Judging from the old wives tale about a man's foot size, I'm sure I don't want to know. I just got sick there.

Have you ever riden a box down a staircase?
Ha...no. There were 14 steps to the 2nd floor of the house I grew up in. I'm sure that would have ended horribly.

Do you wave when you see people you know?
Oh that all depends. Am I wearing my glasses? Because I could be setting myself up for complete embarrassment otherwise.

Can you braid hair?
One of my many talents, yes.

Are you good with painting nails with your left hand?
I am good at being a mom, getting people to join the marrow registry, making my friends laugh and making amazing home made pasta sauce. These things are much more important than nail painting - for that we have salons.

Do you own plaid pants/skirt?
plaid skirt - yes I do.

Do you keep your relationship status to your self?
Well there's one other person who is in on the joke. ha.

How long has it been since you last ate a popsicle?
I have small children and I work too much. Sometimes we have popsicles for dinner.
(just kidding)

Whats worse?: ice cream on a hot day that drips on your hand or ice cream on a cold day with no drips?
I'm too tired to contemplate this one.

Is your best friend black?
No. He's also not an astronaut. Not sure why it matters.

Are you in someones will?
If so I don't want to know. Do yourself a favor and spend it - don't leave it to me. I don't want the drama.

Do you read gossip magazines?
I don't read any magazines lately.

If all your hair fell out tomorrow, would you cry?
Not as much as I would cry if my leg fell off - keep it in perspective kids.

Did you ever dress your animals in doll clothes?
Anyone who has ever met Briscoe the wonder beagle knows he would never stand for such tom foolery.

Do you frequently use the term ’whoa nelly!?
Um no. Not even a little.

Is kissing people with braces better than people without?
Never kissed anyone with braces

Have your parents ever busted on your clothes?
Not since I was 11 and they may have been right that the "FRANKIE SAYS RELAX" t-shirt wasn't as cool as I thought.

Do you put extra salt on things?
not usually.

Is yellow a color that you look good in?
I'm not sure - I don't think I have too much yellow

Is your best friend drop dead sexy?
All my friends are drop dead sexy. That's how we roll.

What do you call music?
Music. Call me quirky.

Do you give your lovers pet names?
Like Shnookums..... no.

Gold or silver?
Platinum. I'm a grown up. ha.

How clean is your room?
Immaculate

Have you ever gone a whole day without eating?
Of course.

Do you know someone that keeps money in weird places?
I don't ask people where they keep their money. I do have a 5 gallon water cooler jug I keep dropping quarters in.
Is that weird?

Is there someone that is just like you?
One of me in this world is plenty.

Do you love the last person you kissed?
Of course.

Are you good with talking to people you dont know?
If it is business related - sure. No problems there. However as far as social settings - I'm pretty quiet.

Are you one of those people that think the elderly are mean?
Only the mean ones.

How old were you when you found out that movies and tv shows were scripted?
Better yet, who is writing some of this crap?

Give one of you and your friends inside jokes:
Why. You wouldn't get it anyway. Ann: "It's mighty balmy in here." There. Doesn't mean much now does it. (i giggled though....thanks.)

Do you chew cotton candy or suck on it until it disolves?
I don't eat cotton candy.

Are you a good singer?
I'm quite the diva.

What does your Grandpa do to be so rich?
My grandfather passed away. He worked hard and saved and he was rich in his heart. He is forever one of my heroes.

Are you a pet person?
Dogs.

Christmas list?
I don't need anything really. thanks.

How do you feel about the person that you’ve become?
I'm a work in progress, but I like me.

Are you going to change this summer?
Wasn't planning on it

Do you like change?
quarters for my water bottle. yes.

Does the way snakes slither turn you on?
I HATE snakes.

Disney Channel just called, you can be on a disney channel show of your choice, which do you choose?
Oh wow - I don't know any disney shows....my kids like nickelodeon. I'd like to hang out with drake and josh. they seem fun.

Do you write your name on your clothes?
it is frowned upon after the age of 8.

If someone in your school is wearing the same shirt as you, what do you do?
ask myself what the hell I am doing back in school!

Are you about following the rules?
I'm about living life to the fullest and trying not to hurt others.

Do you own a wetsuit?
gee no.

Whats the best firework?
the kind the professionals shoot off. i knew someone who lost an eye and a finger - I don't go anywhere near them.

Is your opinion important to other people?
you tell me.

Are you afraid of germs?
I'm afraid of Richard Simmons.

Have you ever seen someone with a hairy tounge?
does such a thing exist? gross.

Are suspenders coming back?
Far be it from me to predict fashion trends, but for heaven's sake I hope not.

Are you big on juding people?
If you know me, you know I love everybody until they give me a reason not to.


Thursday, July 24, 2008

Who Needs Therapy.....


....when the world has George Michael?

So I fear I may be choking on my hypocrisies from the last post. Well sort of. I still don't remember the stupid fight in the parking lot. Whatever. But I have realized that I compartmentalized, rather than deleted. It has become evident that there are things I remember in vivid detail; magnicolor in fact. Not just brilliant visions of scenes from the past, but scents, textures, emotions. They are in fact there, not buried or hidden; not even jumbled. They even make sense. What amuses me is that creative souls often look for life parallels in great works of literature, an opera, a fugue, a painting. Me? Eli Stone. Yes, Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore and it seems as though we are being guided by visions of George Michael. You gotta have faith.....

I do wonder, though, lately, when is it too late to fix something you've broken? Not a coffee mug or a picture frame, but a matter of the heart. Once enough time has passed does it become only self serving and ridiculously unfair to even try? What is all this crap about making amends no matter how much time has passed? I have so many things to say, to explain, to settle.....but I think in the long run it will only make ME feel better, and this is the selfishness I seek to avoid.

I want to scream for my ears only, and then speak softly from my heart in hopes my message, in its purest sense is received. I want to take responsibility because I need to own it, but I also want to blame the forces which prompted me to be who I was not, say what I would not, do what I could not.....pull the rug out from a dance so perfect sending me on a journey to here. I need to say I never wanted to. I was not me. But now I am; I think I have found myself buried under a mountain of the experiences paving my way back to who I know I am.

But for what? He has is own mountain and it is one I am not allowed to approach. It is not my place; it is not my world. I threw that away a long time ago. It doesn't matter that the Wizard behind a veil of self declared strength, power and force pulled the strings, causing me to act like a marionette in a time not so long ago and a place not so far away. It doesn't matter who I've become or even how I got back to the simpleness of my younger me. It only matters that everything is different now and there is no place for any of this in the here and now.

I don't believe that letting a butterfly go and watching, waiting for its return reveals anything profound. It is a bunch of shit. Loving someone truly means that such a test is unnecessary. If you throw love away, expect it to feel treated like trash. And if you encounter its silhouette in place and time and distance buffered with new experiences, new accomplishments and new love, don't expect to retrieve it, uncrumple it....even fix it. I know it is too late for all that. But I am grateful for the memory coming back to me, for it means that I am not in a place of distinct unfeeling or nothingness. I am thankful for the chance to relive in my mind the smell of that cologne on that leather jacket, the sound of that laugh, the warmth of that kiss and the gentle peace of honestly and truly feeling loved. I'm even okay with the realization that I have never felt those things with such purity ever since. I really am fine.

George Michael just happened to kick me in the ass for a minute.

"Waiting"

Well there ain't no point in moving on
Until you've got somewhere to go
And the road that i have walked upon
Well it filled my pockets
And emptied out my soul

All those insecurities
That have held me down for so long
I can't say i've found a cure for these
But at least i know them
So they're not so strong

You look for your dreams in heaven
But what the hell are you supposed to do
When they come true?

Well there's one year of my life in these songs
And some of them are about you
Now i know there's no way i can right those wrongs
Believe me
I would not lie you've hurt my pride
And i guess there's a road without you

But you once said
There's a way back for every man
So here i am
Don't people change, here i am
Is it too late to try again
Here I am

~George Michael

PS - his show at madison square garden was phenomenal.

Monday, July 14, 2008

The Great Remember

My five year old daughter was sitting with me earlier, reminiscing about her preschool graduation (which was a whopping 30 days ago). She was laughing about singing with her friends and she said, "Mommy, that is such a great remember." I started to correct her .... tried to tell her that it was a memory, but it was so damn cute. I'm keeping it. :o)

I think nostalgia has gotten the better of me lately. I know people say that time heals things and changes memories. I'm not sure if that is true or if our minds and hearts just need to be treated like hard drives. We fill them up to the point of capacity and then, we subconsciously make zip files with a thumbnail picture to remind us of what we tucked away in storage. The thumbnails undergo more and more airbrushing with time so that when we go back, it all seems so much prettier.

This little essay is starting off way darker than I intended. I've actually been laughing quite a bit as some people I know have been posting high school pictures of each other on social networks like Facebook and Myspace. The comments have entertained me to no end. Some of the subjects have even sent me emails with, "remember when....." and quite frankly, I do not. Is my hard drive full? Am I a robot? I know that a number of these events must have moved me in some way because I'm sure John Hughes would not have been so successful exploiting teenage angst if it did not exist. Seriously, I don't remember.

For example, I apparently had an argument with one of my friends in the Calhoun High School parking lot circa 1988. Strange to me that there are people who remember it verbatim, but it means nothing to me. I don't think it means anything to the person I was allegedly arguing with either. It had to have meant something to us sometime. Right?

Facebook reunited me with three people who have found permanent residence in my heart. Besides them, I have just found another place to email the people I already talk to....we don't talk about too many old memories, we make new ones. Go figure.

Here's the way it is for me. I'm early-mid 30s so I don't think I'm going senile or anything. I remember going to school every day. I remember the bunch of people who were my BFFs, (funny how short "forever" can become). I remember just enough of it to not even have to zip it. Definitely under a gig.

Somehow I think there must be something wrong with me to not have any of that emotion at my fingertips. I'm not getting all full of love, lust, laughter, tears....anything, bumping into those memories. I giggle a little but that's about it. Sorry class of 1990 - it isn't that I didn't like you then or wouldn't like you now. I must have just shipped it all to Iron Mountain.

Friday, July 11, 2008

The Juice

I have been part of the TiVo society since the first pilot unit by Phillips about 7 years ago. So, during my minimal television watching guilty pleasure, I never never NEVER watch commercials. Here's what I do. I record General Hospital (shut up) and I watch the whole thing on fast forward with the exception of the scenes with Steve Burton. Hey....I never said I wasn't a little shallow. He's just so.... yum.

I digress.

Tonight, for some off the wall reason, I didn't stop after the scene where Jason Morgan.... um.... hmmmm..... I have no idea really. I just look at him and don't really follow that well along. Clearly, today, my train of Steve Burton thought was derailed and I watched some commercials. This one takes the cake.

Remember those ads when us children of the 80s were supposed to be frightened from partaking in any illicit substances with the comparison of sizzling eggs in a skillet? This is your brain.... this is your brain on drugs? Ok. So. Good to know that kids today are less interested in pot (perhaps because of our "whole foods" society - there are trans fats in those hostess cupcakes hahahaha) and more interested in steroids.

Here's what they've come up with...



Deflating balls my friend. At what point in the post production of this gem did someone in the think tank say, "I think we need to actually address the shrinking balls because, what if they don't get it?"

Back to my regularly scheduled TiVo etiquette.


Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Fortune Cookie Wisdom

I went for Chinese food tonight. I'm sure we all agree that the best thing about Chinese food is fortune cookies.....right? Where else can you have a meal, which could potentially be unidentifiable (although I'm a big fan of the chicken and broccoli since, really, there's chicken.....and there's broccoli), and then end the evening with deep gems of Confucius like wisdom? So much to take home besides the doggy bag. So much more. :o)

Here's mine today. Ready? "You may be invited to a party where strange customs will prevail."


This is intriguing to me on so many levels...

I start with the idea of being invited to a party with strange customs. First I fear the phone call that someone I know is, yet again, selling dry dip mix, knock off purses, kitchen tools or sex toys and I MUST come over, check book in hand. Thi
s is a strange custom that many of my female friends have adopted. Invite people over for a nosh, a multi-level-marketing rah rah and an opportunity to spend over a hundred dollars on nothing. I am so disinterested in this. Unless, of course, someone decides to multi-task and demonstrate how one could use dry dip mix, a faux purse, a kitchen tool and a sex toy all at the same time. Oh come on, you know that could be entertaining.

Next I think about that Kubrick movie with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman... Eyes Wide Shut. Whoa. No thanks.

Maybe it will be a star studded gala although I can't imagine any strange rockstar customs I have not yet seen. Nothing surprises me on that front. Or an Irish funeral with bagpipes and whiskey and laughter in mourning. Or, ooohhhhh another of my family fu
nctions where we can move on from people's toilet choices and into, "what's in her underwear drawer?"

Really, the options are endless. But then it dawns on me. My wise cookie tells me I MAY be invited to a part
y where strange customs prevail. I MAY. Not I WILL. I'm so disappointed now. I'll keep you posted.





Saturday, July 5, 2008

Toilet Talk

I know, I know... I should be using this blog as if it were a canvas upon which I could paint my inner thoughts. I should be poignant. I should be thoughtful. I should be insightful. I will, I will. But not today. Today I would like to share with you, how completely astounded I am that four senior citizens, sitting around my dining room table, could carry on an in depth conversation FOR 30 MINUTES all revolving around other people's toilets. Yep. Toilets.


Let me start this by saying that I come from a big Italian family. While we aren't the loud and gaudy Soprano type, talking crap (pardon the pun) about other people, both inside the family and out, seems to be part of the package. However, in most cases, it has to do with who is dating whom, who stole from whom, who is wasting all their money on fancy cars, who wore a dress to so-and-so's wedding that made their butt look fat....and so on. For the most part it drives me completely insane. I sometimes look at some of my relatives and see how incredibly angry they get over other people's drama. Then they argue with each other over why they care. Quite frankly, it all gives me a headache most of the time so I have learned to tune it out. But today.....the whole toilet conversation just had me in stitches.

This all began because the seat on one of the toilets in my house needs to be changed. However, it is a European import in
stalled long before I lived here and nobody has one that matches so I have to change out the whole toilet. Ok. Who cares really. So, first, my grandmother has to warn my great uncle, at the table, to be careful when he lifts the seat to go to the bathroom because it is loose. He doesn't hear her because he came without his hearing aids. So she repeats it. Louder. And again. It all goes horribly wrong from here.

Just so you know, mine is too low to the ground. Who lived in this house before me, a French family? But it isn't as low as my aunt's, which is so low that my grandmother has to hold the towel rack just to get up. (Followed by familiar grandmotherly "sheesh.") My cousin's is too high and difficult to dismount, my sister's is too fancy, my mother's is right next to the tub, causing the toilet paper to be too far away. (Another sheesh.) Nobody said anything about my dad's because he and my mom have been divorced 15 years, although, I'm sure if anyone let it go on, it would have been stated that if my mother had a better lawyer, she would have had half of his toilets and a part of any new ones he ever contemplated installing. SHEESH.

My house is now empty. It is so wonderfully quiet I can hear the refrigerator kick on. I am going to now flush, just for fun, and take an advil.

Until next time.....




Tuesday, July 1, 2008

The Ultimate Great Escape!

I love this story. This made my day. These are the kinds of things that make me giggle! (Thank you Kathy for sharing this with me. Next to the pink sharpie, this is my favorite thing ever...hahaha!!)

So, here's a headline in Newsday today - from the international news. Giraffe Helps Zebras, Camels Escape from Circus. Clearly, you can click the link for the full story but I MUST paste the first paragraph here. It continues to provide me with endless amusement. Yay Geoffrey!

"AMSTERDAM, Netherlands - Amsterdam police say 15 camels, two zebras and an undetermined number of llamas and potbellied swine briefly escaped from a traveling Dutch circus after a giraffe kicked a hole in their cage."

Seriously. How awesome is that? I'm not going to get all philosophical here but the metaphoric options are endless. I can think of many times where I wish I had a ballsy giraffe to kick a hole in my cage. I'd run around and frolic with the zebras and the pot bellied swine, never regretting a second of it. True dat, yo!


Saturday, June 28, 2008

The Corkboard

Recent cyber-exchanges got me thinking about an old cork-board in my bedroom back at my mom's house in Merrick. I know for sure it was last updated right after my high school graduation and stayed there until I moved out when I was 23.



Circa 1990. No this isn't it silly.... this is fun with photoshop. But probably pretty close. hahahaha.





Friday, June 27, 2008

Just Some Recent Thoughts

Reasons
I'm not sure I'm buying into the "all things happen for a reason" thing. No, I'm not. My more logical side believes in the law of consequences, but I'm having a difficult time grasping that there is a master plan and all things which happen in our lives are meant to guide us on some righteous path. I've seen a lot over the past 3 years in my own life and in the lives of people I love. Has it made us stronger....I'm sure. Has it made us appreciate life and laughter....I'm sure. Life altering? Damn straight. Necessary? Nope. I think we are comforted by the notion of a silver lining to crap. Makes us feel better to think that someone, something - call it God, call it Kismet, call it Hale Bop....is making us dance on hot coals to learn a lesson. Not buying it.

Shameless
I think the thing I love absolutely most about little children is how open they are to freeing themselves. I know my two kids do it all the time. They dance if the mood strikes them, sing the wrong words to songs completely off key, tell the WORST nonsensical knock knock jokes...and laugh like they get it, walk around with chocolate ice cream on their face, get dressed and don't match only caring that they are comfortable, tell you when they fart, spit out horrible tasting food, ask people what is wrong with them when they limp. . . and so on. Don't you wish you were that free for just a little longer?

Jason Mraz
Love his new CD by the way. Just a free plug there. Check it out.

Mileage
Looked down on my dashboard today, of my brand new car I got last October, and there are 25k miles on it. Holy crap. I think it might be the driving between New York and New England oh say, twice a week. Yikes. The funny thing about this is that no matter what I do or where I plant myself, there's something else on the other side. Work is in Massachusetts. Family is in New York. Live in one place, travel to the other. What is the difference, right? Interestingly enough, I'd prefer to live in Massachusetts and travel to New York and yet it is backwards. I think the clinical diagnosis for my psychiatric condition is "Shit Or Get Off The Pot Syndrome" a/k/a SOGOPTS. More on that as it develops.

Facebook
It is good for something. I found some new favorites who keep me smiling. But what I don't really get is all the rest of the fluff. Here's my disclaimer. I appreciate the earth and try to take care of it, yet I really don't need anything planted in my virtual green patch. I spend way too much of my hard earned money on Starbucks, but the virtual latte is doing nothing for me. Please don't buy me or sell me or give me away as a pet. I prefer to remain in the loving hearts of the people I really know. I appreciate the good karma - can't argue with that one. I've got a lot of "happiness" and "tranquility." If you don't mind, please send me some "harmony" and "wellness." I will then be on par with Richard Simmons. I'm still not taking the "Which New Kids On The Block Member are you Most Like" quiz. Safe to say none of them. Was all that rude? I apologize.

:o)


Sean Garrity

...potentially one of my favorite fictional television characters ever. To those of you who don't know me, I have an insane affinity for firefighters. Being a New Yorker through 9/11, how could you not? Police officers, don't get your knickers in a ruffle....I adore you as well. But Sean Garrity....does such a human exist? Because if so I would absolutely love to invite him to a party. Yes. Chips, dip and Garrity. That would be fun.


Here it is . . .

People keep telling me I should do this bloggety blog thing. I'm not 100% sure why; I'm not sure that anything I have to say is all that interesting. I suppose that's what the little [x] in the upper right hand corner is for though. (Left for you Mac heads.) Definitely exercise your right to utilize it. I won't be offended in the least. In fact I won't even know. There you go.

Enjoy. Or not. Hmmm.