September 11th...never forget

What do I write that hasn't been said yet? 

The year 2001 was by and far one of the most challenging years I have ever experienced.  In January, during my twenty-seventh week of pregnancy, I almost lost my then twenty-nine year old husband to illness.  In May, my beautiful daughter Angelina was born, bringing all the joys and challenges of a new baby.  My mother was in her final months of her long battle with cancer.  Life was crazy to say the least.

And then the towers fell...changing everything and everyone forever.  It was our generation's Pearl Harbor.

September 11th was like any other day.  Matthew had just begun fifth grade.  Angelina was a happy three month old.  Felix was working as a car salesman.  Our life was about as back to "normal" as we get.  I was a nursery school assistant teacher with my friends Dean and Debbie.  It was a normal day.  I keep using that word normal.  It was a perfect, cloudless late summer day.  The one's that you live for after a muggy summer.  It was perfectly...normal.

Dean had left the building for a few minutes before school started at nine.  He came back in, shocked, trying to explain to us what happened without alarming the kids.  At first we thought it was an accident, maybe a small plane went off course and hit the North Tower.  Then on live television, the South Tower was hit, and we knew it was no accident.  The Pentagon was hit and then the plane crashed in Pennsylvania.  At that point, all I could do was hold my daughter, wait for my son to be let out of school, and pray nothing more would happen to our nation.

I called Felix.  He saw it as it happened.  He told me to go home for lunch, but to call him first.  He didn't want me to watch it for the first time alone.  I got home, went into my bedroom called Fee and turned on the TV.  I watched in horror as they replayed the events of the morning.  I placed my hand on the screen and sobbed.  I cried in fear.  I cried for the people who went to work, never to go home again.  I cried for us.  I cried...because that was all I could do.

And now ten years have passed.  I lost my mother that December.  My daughter was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect in October and had surgery the following April.  She's now a happy, healthy fifth grader.  My nursery schooler's are in high school.  We have healed.  We have moved on.  Every September 11th we remember the lives lost and how our lives changed.  I could write pages on this...but I won't.  I only ask you this my friends...

Never forget.

Irene Cometh...

It's Sunday morning, 9:20am.  Irene has made landfall in NYC at 9am.  She is now a tropical storm.  I'm not relaxing just yet.  We aren't supposed to peak out for another hour or two.  Her wind speed is only 65 mph, but I'm getting big wind gusts!  I hope I can write and post this before the power goes out.  It's flickered three times in the last half hour. Now it went off and on twice.  Yeesh.  So far my poor sunflowers are the only victims of the rain and wind.  I figured as much.

Before Irene:

And this morning:

SIGH.  It happens every time I plant them.  So far that big branch is all that's fallen.  I'm cautiously optimistic the rest of my trees will stay rooted in the ground.

My husband works for a local university in the security department.  He's been there since 2pm yesterday and won't be home until 11 tonight.  He wanted to come home last night, but I told him to stay put.  I'd rather he have one night of discomfort than getting hurt. 

Going to wrap this! Be safe!

Weather Geeks Unite!

What the hell!

We had an earthquake today.  We had mountains of snow this winter.  Blasting heat, frigid cold.  An EF-3 tornado just north of us.  And now Irene, which hopefully, will be a bunch of media hype and will tra-la-la out to sea.  The way the weather has been this year? We're probably going to get a direct hit.

The weather geek in me is excited...the homeowner?  Not so much.

My trees that give me shade in the summer and color (and bags and bags and bags of leaves) in the fall, suddenly look menacing.  I see my wires down and my car squished.  I'm a planner...I'd rather be over prepared and look silly, then to be unprepared and panic.  Sue me, I'm a worrywart like my mom.  It's genetic.  It's in my DNA.

I follow every conceivable weather thing on Twitter.  I don't follow hacks.  I follow the Weather Channel, Jim Cantore (♥), NWS Taunton, MA, Skywarn and Geoff Fox.  I respect the hell out of these guys.  They don't hype.  There are no wild "!!!" like some local meteorologists around here.  They call it as they see it.  If they're concerned, you know damn well I'll be watching closely.

I was eighteen when Hurricane Gloria hit in 1985.  I thought it was the coolest thing.  We had no power, the damage and trees down were awesome!  We took pictures, we were in awe of Mother Nature's wrath.  Now I own a house and a car.  I'm a mom.  My geekiness has to be tempered so I don't scare my daughter.  My son just gave her his "Idiots Guide to the Weather" by Dr. Mel Goldstein (So sorry that he retired today.  I've met him...really nice guy!) and told her to read it.  My theory has always been "You won't be so afraid if you understand it."  But, I have to allievate her fears and answer her questions.  And I need to protect them as well.

And if Jim Cantore shows up in Connecticut?  I'm outta here (once I get his autograph!)!

Stop the presses!

I met someone new today.

His name is Jim Shelton.  He's a writer for our local newspaper, the New Haven Register.  He's been there twenty-eight years!  Way back when there were no Internet...or computers for that matter!  Articles were typed on one of these (for you young 'uns who've never seen one)...

He's doing a piece on moving...and all the "fun" that goes along with moving your crap from point A to point B.  We talked for a half hour.  Probably the easiest half hour of chatting I've done with someone new.  I told him about the time I moved from Cheshire to New Haven when Matt was a baby.  How my brother Jim and his buddy Attila threw my mattress out my second floor bedroom window because "It was easier to do it that way." And how they took a dance break on the roof of the U-Haul when C&C Music Factory came on the radio!  Then he video interviewed me for the website...and I didn't sound like a goober!

We talked about writing and how blogging is the way to go now.  There's no way to get into a newspaper without a bachelor's degree.  But what really bothers me is the fact people aren't reading or buying newspapers anymore!  We get instant news on Yahoo or Twitter. We have it coming right to our iPhones and Blackberries.  Who wants to read what happened the next day? 

Here's where newspapers totally rock over iPhones...

• Can you potty train your puppy on an iPhone?
• Can your cat lay on it in such a way, that no matter what you're trying to read, you can't?
• Can you walk up to someone intently reading an article and knock it out of their hands?
• Can you start a blazing fire with one?
• Does an iPhone have that "rustle" (wait, there must be an app for that)?

You get my point.  And what about guys like Jim who do this for a living?  Stop buying newspapers and his job is gone...along with a few thousand other people. 

Pick up a newspaper the next time you hit Dunkin' Donuts on your way to work.  Put your smart phone away and support the local guys.  I know they'd appreciate it.

And thanks Jim for the words of encouragement (told ya I'd put you in my blog!!).  :)

Life with Puppy

I'm tired!

This is day two with Miss Delilah Rose.  She is adorable.  And so loving.  The gang at The Animal Haven did a great job socializing her.  That, and I think she is happy and secure here with us!

We got her yesterday.  She did remarkably well for her first day.  She was cute with our black lab Melky.  She'd run up to him...then run back to the safety of my lap!  She did that most of the day.  Her ears were always up and alert.  When she was awake!

She has two speeds...

AWAKE

...and asleep.

She got a lot ballsier with Melky today.  She stole his favorite stuffed moose!  He did not take kindly to that...and promptly stole it back!  A new game was started.  Until she was napping tonight, and he brought it over and dropped it on my belly next to her! ♥

Her birthday is April 15, 2011.  She's an Aries.  I found her horoscope!

Sign of The Ram Ruling Planet - Mars Most Desirable Qualities - Loyalty and Trust Talent - Heart breaker; forgets past failures PhysicalCharacteristics - Active and energetic, prone to headaches and sun stroke Lucky Day - Tuesday Most Harmonious Signs - Sagittarius, Leo
		.
		.
		.
	ME FIRST! That's You! Aries is the first sign of the Zodiac; the sign of a born leader. Your natural vitality drives you to be the "lead dog" and to stay the "lead dog."	.
	.	.
	You need space and lots of it and a variety of people in your life, so you are destined to disappear often. Remember, Houdini was an Arian, and you have learned his secrets well.	.
	.	.
	You are quick to learn, proud and ambitious and because of these traits you will be able to endear yourself to almost everyone in almost every situation. But those around you should never doubt who holds the leash in this family for you consider yourself to be completely in charge at all times. In fact, you are sure you know not only what is best for you, but also what is best for your master! In spite of this tug of war, or perhaps because of it, you are a loyal and trusted companion.	.
		.
	Your heart is easily moved although you don't show it quite so intensely. You are apt to be quite spoiled because the opposite sex lavishes you with attentions. Happy conditions surrounding your home base make not only for family unity, but make for unusual love opportunities as well. Enjoy yourself for this year will be bright and glorious for you!	.
.	.	.
.	You fall in love at first sight and first sight will mean a sweetheart on every corner. Left alone in these situations (even momentarily) could result in an unexpected litter of LookaLikaMe's. According to the stars, however, your best mate would be one born under the sign of Libra.	.
.	.	.
.	A creature of habit (and I do mean habit) those around you will find you have little tolerance for re-arranging things in life. You expect your walk promptly at the same time every day, dinner promptly on time and you expect your favorite chair to remain where you like it and you will not forgive being boarded (ever)! Transgressions may cause you to disappear and cause great worry at home. Work on being less stubborn and more flexible (if only you could!)	.
.		.
.	We'll be checking back on this as she grows up!!

"Is it hot enough for you?"

No...not really.  Let's make it an even 120 degrees with a dew point of 137 then it'll be hot enough for me!

What's with the extremes in weather?  Everyone remembers our winter.  Wait...you don't?  Let me refresh your memories...

There's not a whole lot of difference in what we had in January except some shoveling.  Seriously, nobody wants to go outside.  Hell, it's too hot to do anything outside, short of running to your air conditioned car that is.  At 2:40pm, the temperature is 92, dew point is is 75 and it feels like it's 102.

This is no fun.  I feel bad for the rest of the country that's been dealing with this crap for weeks.  Yuck!  Bring back the '80's!

♫ Birthday boy! ♫

Today my boytoy husband Felix turned 40. 

I didn't get him a card, buy him a gift or throw him a party per his request.  I will, however, make today's blog post about him.  I think that's fair, don't you?

I met Felix sixteen years ago in a galaxy far, far away (aka...our twenties).  I was a struggling single mom of a four year old and had pretty much given up on the opposite sex.  I decided to place a personal ad since I had two options for dating...1) Home Depot (my job) or 2) nothing.  I told the guy what I was looking for.  He wrote me one and put it in the paper.  I crossed my fingers.

Fast forward two weeks.  Fee leaves me a message.  Very soft spoken.  He said he was twenty-four.  I was almost twenty-nine.  Five years younger?  He was a kid!  But, I had a teddy bear named Felix and Hurricane Felix was bopping around the Atlantic.  I took that as a sign and called him late on a Saturday night.

We talked.  And talked and talked and talked.  We were up most of the night.  We talked every night for hours after that.  We decided to meet up at Home Depot after I got out of work.  My theory was if he liked me at my worst, the best would blow him away.

In a nutshell?  We fell in love three weeks after we met.  We offically lived together ten months later (even though each time he came over more and more of his stuff stayed!).  He proposed October 20, 1996.  We were married October 31, 1997.

I have never met anyone like Felix.  He was the youngest of anyone I had dated...but the most grown up of all of them, go figure.  And he was is adorable.  I still love his blue eyes and the way he crinkles his nose at me.

I almost lost him to diverticulitis, he almost lost me to depression.  We have been through the long battle and eventual death of my mom to cancer, our little girl's open heart surgery and a miscarriage.  We went through unemployment and some shitty jobs.  Money's been tight.  It hasn't been an easy road.  We've struggled.

But...we have a lot of fun together.  We don't do date nights, we do breakfast.  We still hold hands.  We hug everyday.  We always say I love you...and mean it.  We have dumb jokes only we get.  We laugh constantly.  I get him.  He gets me.  He is truly my best friend and soulmate.  I have no idea what I would do without him in my life.

So Fee...happy 40th birthday.  I hope we have many more birthdays to uncelebrate together.  You came to me at a time in my life when I needed you, and it didn't scare you away.  I love you more then you could ever know.  Thank you for being the wonderful husband and father that you are!  ♥ I love you!! ♥

And they call it puppy love ♥

So we're getting a puppy. 

Not a PUPPY, like the big breeds we're used to (we've had a shepard mix, a husky and now a black lab.  All have weighed between seventy and seventy-five pounds!), but a puppy! An itty bitty one!

Wait...a what?

 

Meet Delilah Rose!  She is an eight week old chihuahua mix. She weighs about three pounds.  She came up from Georgia to the Animal Haven three weeks ago with her four siblings.  Totally neglected...full of fleas, scabbed over flea bites and tapeworms, they were a mess.  We were there the day they arrived.  The first thing I noticed was one ear was up and one ear was floppy.  I thought she was adorable!  Even as sick as she was, she still came to the door of the carrier, wagging her tail.  She licked my finger and I was in love!

Of course, I had to tell hubby about the new puppies.  Since Rocky died last year, we've wanted a second dog.  Melky is very much a pack dog.  He likes companionship.  He is always near us.  Until now, nothing has panned out.  Either they don't like kids, they don't like cats, they don't like other dogs...we couldn't find one. 

So this past Wednesday, Angel and I tagged teamed him. "Please come with us? Please?"  I truly had no ulterior motive.  Well, I sorta did.  I had my eye on a kitten!  I had put the thought of getting a small dog out of my head.  He relented and came with us.  My daughter was so happy to show him the cats.

I showed him the puppies last.  They were all wiggly and bouncy.  Puppies!  We were talking to Michelle, one of the caretakers and she offered to bring Delilah out.  She brought her out and placed her in my husband's arms.  And the rest, as they say, is history!

Today, I brought Melky to the shelter to meet her.  This is pretty much what happened...

She needs to be spayed...then, she is ours!  I can't wait to bring her home for good!

I have a confession...

I am a weather geek.

I am.  I love weather.  I love watching storms form.  I love how changeable weather can be.  I love clouds and cloud formations.  I could have been a meteorologist, but totally suck at math.  I was a NWS certified Skywarn spotter (CT-165) for three years.  Sadly, not one severe outbreak! :o(  I'd love to go tornado chasing...but only as a vacation.  You couldn't pay me to live in tornado alley!

Thunderstorms are fascinating...but scare the crap out of me at night.  I'm not sure if it's because I can't see the sky color (once you see a greenish-purple pre-tornado sky, you're scarred for life) or that thunder is loud and scary!  I know, I hear all of you going "But thunder can't hurt you silly!", but at two in the morning, there is no rational thought!

And I totally dig meteorologists...seriously.  I have had a crush on Jim Cantore since he started at the Weather Channel in 1986.

He is the definative hunk...brains, adorrrrrrable and funny as hell (thundersnow anyone?).  I like another weather guy too and was crushed when the asshats at his last station dumped him after twenty-six years.  It was the first time I actually sobbed about a TV personality.  I actually have his final quote ("You can go to sleep now.") on my FB page.  Happily, he found a new home locally.  I've never met him in person, but would love to shake his hand once and thank him.  :o)

The thunder is still rumbling outside.  It probably will all night. I'll be keeping an eye on the radar too...just so I can sleep later!

A little something about nothing

NOTHING[nuhth-ing]

–noun

1. no thing; not anything; naught: to say nothing.

2. no part, share, or trace (usually followed by of ): The house showed nothing of its former magnificence.

3. something that is nonexistent.

 

I wanted to write a blog entry and I'm thinking, I've got nothing to write about.  I have nothing to say!  Me?  With nothing to say? Noooo.

 

Then I got to thinking about, well, nothing.  Nothing.  They did a show about it.  We feel guilty about it ("Today was my day off.  I got nothing done. Arrgh.").  It's kind of a sad word ("My heart is broken.  He feels nothing for me anymore.").  I think we should change that.  Let's make "nothing" a positive word!

 

If it hasn't been done yet, let's have a a national "nothing" day.  Make it a Wednesday.  Take the day off.  If you have to work?  Do nothing when you get home.  Seriously.  Screw the housework.  Dishes and laundry will be there in the morning.  Order takeout.  Let the blender be the only appliance that gets used.  Sit outside and do absolutely nothing.

 

That's my order of the day...a guilt-free "nothing" day!  Just stop...for a moment!

 

Now go!  Nothing awaits you! ☺

 

 

No Justice for Caylee

After the weekend I had, hanging out with friends and family and now with this Casey Anthony debacle top news, I really feel compelled to write tonight.

I'm angry.  Truly fucking angry at the justice system.  How in God's name could they not get her on the neglect charge?  Her two year old was missing for thirty-one days before she told anyone!  One fucking month!!  How do you allow a month to go by not knowing or caring where your baby is?

I can understand why they couldn't get her on the first degree murder charge.  There was no DNA evidence to prove it was her beyond a reasonable doubt.  But she knows...that party animal slut knows who is responsible for Caylee's murder.  It disgusts me that she walks away a free woman.  I hope she lives to be a hundred.  I hope she misses her when kindergarten starts, when she was supposed to graduate, when she would have been married...when she would have given her her first grandchild.  I hope she suffers miserably and that she is never allowed to have another child.  And when she does pass?  I hope she sees her beautiful angel at Heaven's gate, and is promptly grabbed and taken to Hell by Satan himself.  Even if it wasn't her who duct taped that baby's mouth shut...she has to live with knowing the truth that her daughter is gone forever.

As a citizen, I am pissed.  As a mother, I am heartbroken. 

♥ Rest in peace Caylee Marie.  You are in the arms of the angels now. ♥

Bit by bit...

I went shopping today.

Yeah.

I swear to you I tried on really feminine things.  Foofy tops and pretty things.  I can't do flowery shit.  Or ruffles.  Unlike a lot of women, I am very aware of my muffin top and won't wear something that will display my rolls prominently.  You want rolls?  Go to your local bakery.

I compromised.  I found two henley tops at Old Navy.  One is bright coral, the other, white with skinny navy blue stripes.  They're v-necks...my one weapon in my arsenal.

My theory is this.  Play up your assets.  Mine?  I have my boobies.  I'm sorry, boobies sound tiny.  I have BOOBS.  Dolly could be a distant cousin.  Seriously.  I figure this...wear a nice v-neck, show plenty of cleavage and nobody will notice your poochy belly.  Problem solved.  This is one of my all time favorite quotes from Rita Rudner:

 "Some people think having large breasts makes a woman stupid. Actually, it's quite the opposite: a woman having large breasts makes men stupid."

So there. 

Anyways...my shopping continued.  I got three pairs of earrings because I still have holes in my ears ("How are you going to hear otherwise?" Har har har).  My daughter is duly impressed.  And I got a pair of brown flip-flops with jewels and rhinestones.  Oh yeah...sthparkly!!

AND...

I bought a big round brush and a bottle of Redken Power Tame 16.  I read this shit takes the curls out of the craziest of hairs.  We'll see.  The fact that I spent SIXTEEN DOLLARS on one product blows my ever loving mind.  I get my mousse on sale for three bucks a can and it lasts me two months.  Do the math.  This shit better work.  I also got Nice and Easy foam in medium golden brown.  The foam sounds interesting in theory.  I hope it covers my skunk stripe!

If I'm feeling nice, I'll post a picture with the results tomorrow.  Maybe.

Oh...for those of you who left comments or tweets about yesterday's posting?  A heartfelt thank you.  :o)

Celebrating life

*Trigger warning*

This entry is about suicide.  If this subject upsets you, please do not read.

This is not going to be a normal, fluffy blog post.  It's not that kind of day. 

I woke up this morning in a dismal, rotten mood.  Today would have been my mom's seventy-fifth birthday.  I miss her everyday.  I honestly thought after ten years the pain would lessen.  It hasn't.  I can't dwell on what never will be.  She had lung cancer, which she fought valiantly.  So much so, it spread to her brain and bones before she passed.  They said she would probably live six months at most...she ended up living for almost six years.  Not a day goes by that she doesn't cross my mind.  This is her with my brother in 1990, before she got sick.  I get told constantly I look just like her.  It's not a bad thing.  I love you Ma...you'll always be with me.

But today marks a more significant milestone for me.  Three years ago tonight, I attempted to take my own life.  So many people over the years have asked me one simple question...

"WHY?!"

Why?  You have a wonderful husband, you have two beautiful children.  Why?  Why? WHY?  How could you  be so selfish/thoughtless/heartless?  I would only answer with a shrug of my shoulders and a shake of my head.  I've never written about that night...never answered anyone's questions.  I'm going to try.  Bear with me.

I was depressed for almost eighteen months.  I had already been hospitalized multiple times for threatening suicide.  I was over medicated and the shell of who I am now.  I was tired of being a burden, tired of all the drama.  I wasn't getting better...and thought I never would get better.  I stopped caring.  Honestly? I didn't think anyone cared anymore either. 

But know this...I never wanted to die.  I wanted to not hurt anymore. 

Without going into too much detail (there are people I want to protect that I love dearly), June 29, 2008 was a nightmare.  I had run away from home that afternoon...to the beach in West Haven where I took a long walk.  I went for a drive that night, with the intention of ending it.  I went to Stop and Shop and bought two boxes of sleeping pills, twenty-four each.  Even in my misery, I was excited they were buy one, get one free.  And I grabbed a Sprite, intentionally...there was no caffeine in it.  I went through the self checkout...I didn't want to draw any attention to myself.

I drove to a deserted parking lot and methodically popped each one out.  I wrote a note on a napkin, very simply in block letters "I'M SORRY".  I took twenty-four, then the other twenty-four.  I looked at the clock.  It was 9:04.  I dropped the seat back...and waited. 

I started getting groggy, and scared.  I went to reach for my cell phone but couldn't lift my arms.  My last thought before I went under was "Oh my God, what have I done?"

I remember things after that in bits and pieces.  The cop's flashlight in my face, and thinking I was in Heaven.  All the lights from the fire trucks and police cars.  Being draped over my steering wheel.  Drinking a quart of charcoal in the ER.  Hallucinating on my gurney...and seeing clocks of every kind on the walls.  Hearing someone say "Oh God, there's a note."

Amazingly, they sent me home the following day with a number to check in with the crisis hot line everyday.  I lasted five days before I was put back in the hospital...for the final time.

I did three months of intensive outpatient therapy after that.  My depression finally broke in September.  I started writing, and found out I was good at it.  My husband got a new job and he was happy.  I got off my meds and thought clearly for the first time in years.  I...got...better.

I'm here today.  I have a strong core of girl and guy friends who would do absolutely anything for me.  I know now that if I get down (I still have blips), I can count on them to hold me up when I'm unable.  I saw my son graduate high school, and held my niece when she was fifteen hours old.

And my hubby?  He said leaving me never crossed his mind.  He stood by me throughout my ordeal.  The truest meaning of  "In good times and in bad. In sickness and in health."  I have never loved anyone more.

This is a poem I found in a magazine about a month afterward.  I feel like it was meant for me.  It hangs on my mirror to this day.

Stop, ask for help. 

Seek out counseling. 

Death is no answer. 

Try to believe in something,

a God,

a song,

a book,

the ocean.

Don't give up.

People get better.

Always remember the last line..."People get better."  I got better.





An ounce of kindness...*edit*

I work retail.  I've been in retail for a better part of my life (sounds better than twenty-five years! LOL).  At the moment I've been working at the "big blue box" for almost five years.  I previously worked at the "big orange box" for eleven.  I've done phone centers and a couple of other home centers (anyone remember Rickel's?).  I do customer service...I am customer service.  It's in my blood.  I know the good from the great and will call out the truly awful.  My bank made the mistake of treating the wrong person like shit today.

We use People's Bank for our checking and savings accounts.  We have for a better part of a decade.  We ran into a massive issue with our accounts this morning.  The first time I had called, I had spoken to a girl, Rebecca, who helped me out and answered all of my questions...nicely I might add.

We find out later that we need a fax number for the bank in order to rectify our problem.  I called back.  I got a guy this time (he mumbled his name, so I never got it).  I told him my situation and what I needed.  He put me on hold, and came back with the exact information I already had.  I told him he must have misunderstood me...I just need the fax number for the X dept to give to this person.  What does he tell me?

"They do a lot of business with us.  They should already have our number."

Helloooo?  If they are asking for your number, they obviously don't have it.  So I asked again, a little dumbfounded at this point.  Can you give it to me anyway, just in case?  Was he afraid I was going to fax naked pictures to them?

He repeated the "They should already have our number on file." line and curtly told me to have a good day.

OK, if I was angry and pitching a fit maaaaybe he'd have a reason to dismiss me like that.  I was too stunned by his snottiness to be angry.

If he had said simply, "I'm sorry, but policy forbids me to give you the fax number to that department." I would have been fine with that.  I just hate being treated like shit by some piss ant making ten dollars an hour.  I've done your job...being nice and helpful is what you're paid to do.

I won't formally complain (although I did hash tag them on Twitter and bitch in 140 characters!), but I do know the tellers at my branch well enough that I will say something the next time I'm in.

I hope he gets a slow cashier the next time he's running late.  Have a little customer service karma bite him in the ass!

*edit*  Just found out they had slapped us with a couple of $35 overdraft fees, adding insult to injury.  Called customer service, spoke to Marjorie, being refunded in a couple of days.  That my friends is what helping people is all about. :o)

Hair brained

This hair of mine is going to make me bat shit crazy!

I just spent some quality time in the haircare aisle in Target.  I might as well have been in Moscow!  What is all this stuff? 

My hair regime has always been wash, mousse, scrunch, blow dry.  And occasionally hairspray on those shitastic muggy days.  Thazzit.

Now...I need a big HUGE roller brush ($10), heat protectant serum/anti-frizz stuff ($7) and of course Nice n Easy color to be determined ($8).  At the moment, I look like a reverse skunk.  Not attractive.

My husband is going to KILL me!  I've never in the sixteen years we've been together had any interest in my hair.  Get it cut every few months or so, and a can of mousse every couple of months.  When it gets too boofy, throw it in a baseball cap.  A totally low maintenance female.

But now ladies...advice.  What works for you?  What's needed?  What's a waste of my husband's  my money?  Talk to me chicks!  Help me speak the language of straight hair!

Same old same old...

How many times have you been told, "Don't change, I like you just the way you are"?

Don't change.

It's almost foreboding.  *insert evil voice* "Don't change.  Something terrible will happen if you do."

I hate changes.  I do.  This is why I still look the same as I did in high school.  Why I still work in retail.  I hate changes.  Familiarity is comforting.

Until the day I got my hair straightened.

I never in a million years would think something as simple as a flat iron could alter my life.  I let my hair go curly over the weekend and realized something...

I'm sick of my curly hair! 

I've had curly hair my entire life, with the exception of my first year.  I was bald as a cue ball...go figure.  So I rid myself of my curls...and I love it!  Plus I'm starting to show the results from going to the gym.  I'm not losing weight, but my clothes fit better.  I feel really good about myself for the first time in...ever?  I don't know.  Is this a midlife crisis?  A midlife change?  A midlife epiphany?

I'm tired of the "old" me.  The frumpy, wearing t-shirts and jeans me.  I want to channel my inner Taylor Swift...I want to be a girl for the first time in my life.  I think it's because I'm hitting my mid-forties.  I don't look it, most days I don't feel it...and I sure as hell don't act it!  I know my youth is fading.  It's reality...and I realize that.

I want to go shopping for pretty stuff.  Maybe a skirt, maybe some new makeup.  Maybe a pretty pair of shoes. 

It's my time to shine...finally.

For the love of a kitty...or twelve!

My daughter and I volunteer at a local animal shelter.  She's only ten, so her responsibilities are minimal.  She brushes the cats and plays with all the kittens.  I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon.

To say she loves cats would be an understatement.  For her ninth and tenth birthday, she had her friends bring cat things for the shelter instead of gifts for her.  She won't watch ASPCA commercials.  She wants to be a veterinarian.  She has a huge heart.

I guess it's something that's been passed down from generation to generation.  My dad said he always fed the stray cats that used to follow him home.  Drove his father crazy.  Because of that, he never really argued the random kitten that would show up in our house growing up.  I mean, he'd grumble and growl, but it always stayed.

We were never a dog family.  Every dog we ever had ended in disaster.  Cats on the other hand, stayed outside most of the time.  They came home to eat and sleep.  We always had at least three cats.

Now, we have just one.  This is Pickles.

He's five years old.  He's a mushball.  He knows that bedtime is cuddle time.  He gets frisky maybe once a month.  He's my kitty.  I love him to pieces.

And I know you're thinking..."Look at that face!  He looks so sweet!"  Uh uh.  Not so fast.  He's the alpha male in this house because this guy...

...is scared shitless of him. 

This is Melky (aka "M-Dog"), our 73 lb. three year old "Labra-doofus".  Will rip out your jugular at the gate if he doesn't know you.  Will allow the cat to pin him against the bathtub.  I'm not making this up.  I heard him whining.  The cat was staring him down.  Wuss.

June is national "Adopt A Cat" month.  I wish I could partake.  I'd love another kitten.  My daughter would love another kitten.  Then there's Daddy.

She has big, blue eyes.  There's hope! ;o)

Hair today...gone tomorrow

OK...I'll 'fess up, when it comes to style sense, I have none.  Nada, zilch, zero...nil.  My drawers are filled with various t-shirts.  I like them, they're comfy.  Even though I've lost about forty pounds in the last four years, I still have "my girls"  They get in the way of any kind of  "girly" clothes.  V-necks are my friend.  Hell, I wear my hair almost the same way as I did in high school.  Curly...low maintenance.  Mousse, scrunch, blow dry, go. 

Until yesterday.

I am as low maintenance a female you'll find.  I cut my hair every six months or so.  I have A LOT of hair.  Enough that if you shaved my head, you could make wigs for at least six people in a third world country.  I like to call it my "boofy" hair.

Well, my "boofy" hair had gotten to the point where the boys at work teased me constantly.  Not malicious mind you (they're more like 3rd graders), but ribbing.

"You channeling 70's Paul Stanley?"
"No, actually 90's Slash to be honest."

"I saw your hair driving down the street yesterday."

"Ya know, they're running a special on weed whackers in garden this week."

I love you guys, but bite me.  Seriously.  I love my mop.

So I go see my absolutely wonderful hairdresser Amy yesterday.  I told her exactly what I want...which is, sadly, the usual.  Then I had a "fuck it" moment. 

"Straighten my hair."

She was shocked, because the last time we had done it, I had looked down right frumpy.  Like a matronly soccer mom.  My hair is much longer now...screw it.  Just do it.

She would only do it if I posted the results on Facebook...for everyone's opinion.

Eesh...talk about leaving yourself vulnerable.

So...I continued with the "fuck it" attitude and said do it.

The "normal" me is the pic above.  This is me with straight hair.  Kinda boggled my mind honestly.

I was like "Wow, who's that?"

My daughter hated it initially.  Hated it.  Then she kinda liked it.  By bedtime, she was petting my hair going "I love your hair Mommy, it's just like mine now!"

My husband liked it.  He looked at me a lot.  Not sure if it was a "Wow, that sexy thing is my wife!" or "Where's the girl I married?"  He's not big on changes.  Like the Billy Joel song, he loves me just the way I am.

The consensus on Facebook?  Three dozen positive comments and nine likes. *Blushes*  Me "hawt"?  Naaaah.  It's just me...with no curls.

I'm back to my curly 'do tonight.  There is waaaaay to much humidity around to fret about my hair.  This'll be a day off thing.  I unload a truck for a living.  I sweat.  I'll be one of the guys at work, but all woman when I'm not there.  It's a happy compromise.

And yes...I went out and bought a straightener.  There may be hope for me yet!!

Angels Among Us

An early morning blog post.  Funny how this is my new witching hour.  I have my official up early/ up all night tweeps that I check in with (you all know who you are)...and the animals.  I like it. 

Yesterday was one of those days - hell, who am I kidding - this week has been one of those weeks where I have been over thinking everything around me.

I got to thinking about angels last night.  I firmly believe we have one or more guardian angels that watch over us at all times.  The ones who keep you out of  harm's way, the one's that keep you from doing the wrong things.  I know I have at least two...my mom, who I lost to cancer back in 2001, and my daughter Francesca who died in utero at 12 weeks in 2006.  How am I so certain of this?  Let me tell you a couple of quick stories about them.

The night after Mom died, I was sitting on my couch sobbing.  It doesn't matter that she was sick for six years or the fact Hospice was spot on to when she was going to pass...my beloved mom was gone.  My mind couldn't grasp I would never see or talk to her again.  So, I prayed out loud to her.  Told her she was a strong spirit...send me a sign.  Blow out a light bulb when you make it to Heaven.

Guys, I kid you not...from the time I said that prayer Saturday night, until we buried her Tuesday morning, she blew out five light bulbs in my house!  After the fifth one, I told her I got her point and now it was getting expensive! And I could swear I could hear her laughing!

I lost my baby girl Francesca in 2006.  She died of unexplained causes...a missed miscarriage at 12 weeks gestation.  This October she'd have been five.  I still miss her to this day.  One morning on Facebook, the status update of the day was one about miscarriage survivors and remembering those babies that had become angels too soon.  So I made it my status, saying how I love and missed her.  That afternoon above my daughter's school I saw this cloud...

It's almost a perfect duplicate of her last ultrasound picture...with a halo (look closely above the head).  I know now she knew I was missing her that day and sent this to reassure me she was doing good.

But angels aren't always in the spiritual sense.  They come in all shapes and sizes...all you have to do is open your eyes and look around.

The starter on my car crapped out a couple of weeks ago as I was picking my daughter up from school.  I only need a pop start to get it home.  When I went into the school, it was empty.  Until one of her classmates walked around the corner with his dad - all 6'5" of him!  He gladly gave me a push, got it started and saved me $100 in towing charges.

An angel?  You know it.

Your friends who have been with you through everything?  The one's that support without judging you?  The one's that you could never live without?  Are they angels?

Absolutely.

How about cyber-angels?  They read your diary, comment on your statuses, say good morning on Twitter.  They cheer you on, cry with you, chat with you for hours upon hours about everything and nothing at all. 

Angels...every last one.

They are everywhere.  The girl who smiles at you at Dunkin' Donuts everyday when you order your coffee.  The co-worker who never fails to hug you every single time they see you.  The people who genuinely want to know the truth when they ask "How are you doing today?"

I could go on and on...but you get my point.  Angels are everywhere...and we are all capable being one ourselves.  It doesn't take much.  Even a simple smile can change someones rotten day.  Give it a shot...polish up your halo and see what happens! :o)

Work it baby...

Just got back from the gym.  Talk about a love/hate relationship!

I've been going for almost a year.  My husband and I go together.  It's a lot easier to go with a partner.  It also keeps you honest!  When you get on the treadmill for thirty minutes with someone next to you, you move your ass.  Also, if I see him hauling, the competitive side in me kicks in.  Like hell he's going to burn more calories then I do!

In retrospect, I wish I had this much interest in my body back in my twenties or thirties.  It took hitting my forties, some health issues and the purchase of a full length mirror to make me realize that I wasn't the chick I used to be.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy with myself.  I'm 44...I've had two kids and gravitational pull is against me.  Things are going to droop.  I have stretch marks.  I look at it this way...it's all because of my kids.  It's all their fault!! 

Seriously though?  This year there has been a ton of changes in my body.  I'm starting menopause. I can't drop weight to save my life.  My eyes are getting crepey.  My skin is changing.  I'm...getting...a...fucking...turkey...gaggle!!  Ugh!

When the hell did I become my mom?

One more thing on friendship...

I know, I  know...I'm a wordy bitch.  Mind has been a jumble of thoughts all day.  Bear with me (as my cat tries to harf up a hairball behind me).

A fellow blogger, local newsguy and tweep friend Chris said this on Twitter the other day. 

"Always amazed to see how quickly children who are complete strangers can become friends. We could all learn something from them."

Think about it.  What do kids do when they meet?  "Hi! I'm so and so, do you like trucks/Webkinz/Barbies/puppies?  You do? Come on, let's play!"  Bingo...two 10 year olds are buddies.

Grown ups?  "Oh my God, look at the way she's dressed...she has a puss on her face...she looks like a bitch."  We don't make a connection with her because we judge based on looks.

I said to him in a reply how Twitter actually humanizes us.  I say good morning to both him and his co-anchor every morning that I work.  And if I introduced myself by my Twitter name, he would know me.  Pretty cool, huh?

Set a goal for tomorrow...pay one stranger a compliment.  A genuine one.  "Love your car!"  "That's a great shirt! Where did you get it?" Something nice.  You probably won't get a playdate...but I'm sure you'll brighten someone's day!!

An intro of sorts

So what do you want to know about me? 

I'm a mom of two...a tween girl and an almost out of his teens guy (boy seems so...young).  I have a dog...a labra-doofus and a bossy tabby cat (there will be stories on all them, trust me).  I am happily married to my best friend.  We'll be together 16 years in August...already!

I'm a writer.  I normally write erotica, but lately...pardon the pun...I'm not in the mood!  This will fill that need to write.  I'm antsy.  I have shit to say!

What else?  I love cars and racing.  I refuse to ever drive a minivan.  My most favorite car I've owned was my red 1999 VW New Beetle.  I think I'm pretty funny in my own dorky way.  Am I interesting?  I'll try my best.  Stay tuned...I've only just begun!

Friendship

I've wanted to do this for awhile.  I keep a journal...but it's for my own thoughts.  This is stuff in my life I want to share with the world.

The last few days have made me ponder what a true friend is. 

I have long time friends that would drop anything and help me out.  They have, and I have done the same in return.  They are my "family", even though they come from different parents.

There are cyber friends...the ones you meet through the internet.  Your Facebook buddies, your "Tweeps", your journal readers.  Maybe you'll meet up...and realize, hey, we make better friends online then we do in real life.  Maybe you'll never meet them because they're in a different country, a different continent even...but they are still your friends...sometimes more so then "real" life people.

I guess my point (really, I do have one!) is simply this...embrace the friends you do have, let the toxic ones go.  There are some people who will be there no matter what...whatever the situation or circumstance.  There are others who...well, make their mark and pass through.

Til later...