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.

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.

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.

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.

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. This 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 functions 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 party where strange customs prevail. I MAY. Not I WILL. I'm so disappointed now. I'll keep you posted.

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 installed 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.....

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!