A slice of lime is my flotation device.
I realize this isn't healthy, it's not even sane, but I am not at a point where I care. I see myself doing less and less, caring less and less, and I don't care. Which I guess makes the less and less redundant.
I go to work, I come home, I fix a drink or two or three or eight, and then I go to bed and I do it all over again tomorrow. I'm rarely hungover and actually, until that final drink hits me, I'm rarely drunk. That's probably not a good sign.
It worries me more and more how little I need to do to get by and how much I know that. I don't take the trash out, I haven't checked my mail in two weeks. I feed the cat, I do my dishes, my car has no gas. It was too much work to stop and put gas in it this morning. When the low fuel light comes on, I'll fill it up. I haven't done any school work, I didn't even enroll this semester. I buy instant stuff for my lunch. I always buy a piece of fruit or two, then I carry them around until I throw them away. I have lived for the past two weeks on PB&J and instant Mac & Cheese... and crackers.
I don't want to see anyone and really, if anyone knew how I really am, they wouldn't want to see me. I've canceled plans even though I rarely have any. Something comes up and I fix a drink and say "Maybe next time"
I don't know what to do, but I know that as long as I don't care, no one else will either. It seems kind of like a whirlpool that I'm not sure I stand a chance of getting out of. I'm afraid to sneeze because if I do someone else might die. I spend most of my time wondering who will be next and hoping it's me. Not in a "I want to die tomorrow" way, but in a "I just can't say good bye to another person right now, please just keep everyone safe until I'm gone" kind of way.
I really usually only cry when I drink. It feels good to cry. It's so much work to hold it all in and act like it's ok all the time. I know I can't crumple up and give up, so I go to work, I pay my bills, and then I pour myself a drink and I let go. And let myself go. And let my life go. Going, going..........gone.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Wallowing
I was going to spend this weekend with a girlfriend. She was wallowing. I understand wallowing. Just take a day and wallow. We are entitled.
I have done that. I'm sure people are tired of my wallowing. I'm tired of my wallowing. It doesn't make it less important however.
I'm sick of being sad. I'm tired of crying. I want nothing more than to just move on like nothing ever happened, unfortunately it did. I can't move forward. I can't move on. I can't even freaking move.
My cat is even being nice. That's scary, she's not a nice cat.
Do you think one day you just wake up and all the pain you've felt for all of these months is just gone? I don't know, I'm asking. Where does it go? What happens to it? I was just starting to feel normal and my niece died. My beautiful 27 year old Down's Syndrome, happy all the time, give her an action hero and she was content, niece. She was so beautiful.
Her and Benjamin didn't know each other, I hope they do now. I can see Benjamin taking her hand and saying "Come on with me, I'll show you the way around" and I can see Betty saying "Let me tell you stories about your Aunt Kari"
I'm acquiring quite the collection in this place we like to think of as Heaven. I don't believe in Heaven, but I don't believe our souls die either. I feel Benjamin, I feel Betty. I miss them both more than you can imagine but I think they are here, somewhere, and I feel their warmth. I see things that make me think of them, make me feel close to them and I send them kisses. I wonder if people think I'm crazy when they see me pucker up and send a kiss to the Heavens:? I hope so.
I have done that. I'm sure people are tired of my wallowing. I'm tired of my wallowing. It doesn't make it less important however.
I'm sick of being sad. I'm tired of crying. I want nothing more than to just move on like nothing ever happened, unfortunately it did. I can't move forward. I can't move on. I can't even freaking move.
My cat is even being nice. That's scary, she's not a nice cat.
Do you think one day you just wake up and all the pain you've felt for all of these months is just gone? I don't know, I'm asking. Where does it go? What happens to it? I was just starting to feel normal and my niece died. My beautiful 27 year old Down's Syndrome, happy all the time, give her an action hero and she was content, niece. She was so beautiful.
Her and Benjamin didn't know each other, I hope they do now. I can see Benjamin taking her hand and saying "Come on with me, I'll show you the way around" and I can see Betty saying "Let me tell you stories about your Aunt Kari"
I'm acquiring quite the collection in this place we like to think of as Heaven. I don't believe in Heaven, but I don't believe our souls die either. I feel Benjamin, I feel Betty. I miss them both more than you can imagine but I think they are here, somewhere, and I feel their warmth. I see things that make me think of them, make me feel close to them and I send them kisses. I wonder if people think I'm crazy when they see me pucker up and send a kiss to the Heavens:? I hope so.
Friday, September 3, 2010
I don't open doors...
Someone knocked at my door a minute ago. Do you know I wasn't even mildly curious to who it was. I don't open doors. I wasn't expecting anyone, my house wasn't on fire, I don't open doors.
It's funny, I watch tv shows and people open doors. Someone knocks, they open their door. I find I'm kind of amazed by that. My new addiction has been Nip/Tuck. I could go on and on about what a terrible show that is. I watch it, but it's kind of like smoking crack, I know it's bad but I watch it anyway. For God's sake they had midget sex in Season 4, how exploitive is that? But I watch it....and what always amazes me is how Christian opens his door. If there was ever anyone on Earth who shouldn't just open his door, it would be Christian Troy.
Anyhow, the point is....my doors are closed and locked. Physically, emotionally and in every other way I can lock them. What's in is in, nothing else gets out, don't knock.
It's funny, I watch tv shows and people open doors. Someone knocks, they open their door. I find I'm kind of amazed by that. My new addiction has been Nip/Tuck. I could go on and on about what a terrible show that is. I watch it, but it's kind of like smoking crack, I know it's bad but I watch it anyway. For God's sake they had midget sex in Season 4, how exploitive is that? But I watch it....and what always amazes me is how Christian opens his door. If there was ever anyone on Earth who shouldn't just open his door, it would be Christian Troy.
Anyhow, the point is....my doors are closed and locked. Physically, emotionally and in every other way I can lock them. What's in is in, nothing else gets out, don't knock.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Let it Rain
It's a windy day here. scattered showers. I like scattered showers. I will take scattered showers over hot and humid any day.
I'm going to ramble here and I hope you can follow it, or if you can't, at least forgive me for just typing in any direction I go...I have a journal, it lays next to my bed with a very nice pen next to it. I can't write in it. When you write it down on paper it becomes permanent and I'm not ready for permanent...
The alone I'm feeling is overwhelming. It blankets me like a fog. I'm here alone in so many ways. I mourn my son and I look for any little sign that he's still here with me, I want to feel him. I want him to tell me it's ok. I grasp at straws. It's funny, 333 was always our "sign". We woke up to 3:33, we saw 333, when he got his driver's license we both saw 333 on a license plate and knew it was his day. 333 is gone. Now I see 222. 333 minus 111.
My friends have moved on. I don't blame them. Life is about living. But I'm stuck.
My "surviving" son is going through hell. Not any kind of hell I can imagine, I never had to watch anyone I love die a horrific death. But I see it, in my mind, over and over and over, anytime things get quiet. I try to clutter my mind because that keeps my thoughts from going there.....
I can't even say out loud the things I think, the questions I have ....
What do I say when people say "How many kids do you have?" How do I argue gay rights when my gay son is dead? How do I differentiate between how my son died and who he was? I say "The police shot him" and watch the judgments form...
(words & music by Joe South)
If I could be you, if you could be me
For just one hour, if we could find a way
To get inside each other's mind
If you could see you through my eyes
Instead your own ego I believe you'd be
I believe you'd be surprised to see
That you've been blind
Walk a mile in my shoes
just walk a mile in my shoes
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse
Then walk a mile in my shoes
Now if we spend the day
Throwin' stones at one another
'Cause I don't think, 'cause I don't think
Or wear my hair the same way you do
Well, I may be common people
But I'm your brother
And when you strike out
You're tryin' to hurt me
It's hurtin' you, Lord HAVE mercy
Walk a mile in my shoes
just walk a mile in my shoes
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse
Then walk a mile in my shoes
Now there are people on reservations
And out in the ghetto
And brother there, but, for the grace of God
Go you and I,
If I only had wings of a little angel
Don't you know, I'd fly
To the top of a mountain
And then I'd cry, cry, cry
Walk a mile in my shoes
just walk a mile in my shoes
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse
Then walk a mile in my shoes (3X)
I'm going to ramble here and I hope you can follow it, or if you can't, at least forgive me for just typing in any direction I go...I have a journal, it lays next to my bed with a very nice pen next to it. I can't write in it. When you write it down on paper it becomes permanent and I'm not ready for permanent...
The alone I'm feeling is overwhelming. It blankets me like a fog. I'm here alone in so many ways. I mourn my son and I look for any little sign that he's still here with me, I want to feel him. I want him to tell me it's ok. I grasp at straws. It's funny, 333 was always our "sign". We woke up to 3:33, we saw 333, when he got his driver's license we both saw 333 on a license plate and knew it was his day. 333 is gone. Now I see 222. 333 minus 111.
My friends have moved on. I don't blame them. Life is about living. But I'm stuck.
My "surviving" son is going through hell. Not any kind of hell I can imagine, I never had to watch anyone I love die a horrific death. But I see it, in my mind, over and over and over, anytime things get quiet. I try to clutter my mind because that keeps my thoughts from going there.....
I can't even say out loud the things I think, the questions I have ....
What do I say when people say "How many kids do you have?" How do I argue gay rights when my gay son is dead? How do I differentiate between how my son died and who he was? I say "The police shot him" and watch the judgments form...
(words & music by Joe South)
If I could be you, if you could be me
For just one hour, if we could find a way
To get inside each other's mind
If you could see you through my eyes
Instead your own ego I believe you'd be
I believe you'd be surprised to see
That you've been blind
Walk a mile in my shoes
just walk a mile in my shoes
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse
Then walk a mile in my shoes
Now if we spend the day
Throwin' stones at one another
'Cause I don't think, 'cause I don't think
Or wear my hair the same way you do
Well, I may be common people
But I'm your brother
And when you strike out
You're tryin' to hurt me
It's hurtin' you, Lord HAVE mercy
Walk a mile in my shoes
just walk a mile in my shoes
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse
Then walk a mile in my shoes
Now there are people on reservations
And out in the ghetto
And brother there, but, for the grace of God
Go you and I,
If I only had wings of a little angel
Don't you know, I'd fly
To the top of a mountain
And then I'd cry, cry, cry
Walk a mile in my shoes
just walk a mile in my shoes
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse
Then walk a mile in my shoes (3X)
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Blood is thicker than Water
I've heard that my whole life. Let me tell you when blood is thicker than water:
I just came from a family reunion which included 183 of my closest relatives. That was less than half of who was invited With that many relatives just how thick could that blood be?
We all wore color coordinated tee shirts and then spent half of Saturday trying to figure out who had the cool colors and who didn't. Alpha cousins? We had one of the cool colors. So did the Cunninghams and the Dudleys...who were all those people in pale beige? What did they do to deserve that? Maybe just not show up at the meetings?
We had hot pink. Fortunately I had my hot pink $2.99 Walgreen's flip flops...I was rocking.
It was good to see everyone. Our group had a water balloon sling shot and took great pleasure in slinging water balloons at the gray cousins...poor gray cousins, they didn't have the vibrant color and then they had flying water balloons to deal with on top of that.
I realized, in this short weekend, that although I have a "family", my family was not there. My family consists of people who don't share my blood but share my feelings, my thoughts, and my love.
Blood is only thicker than water in science.
- In a measuring cup
- On your white shirt
- In your sippy straw
- In that movie "Carrie"
- If you're paddling through it
I just came from a family reunion which included 183 of my closest relatives. That was less than half of who was invited With that many relatives just how thick could that blood be?
We all wore color coordinated tee shirts and then spent half of Saturday trying to figure out who had the cool colors and who didn't. Alpha cousins? We had one of the cool colors. So did the Cunninghams and the Dudleys...who were all those people in pale beige? What did they do to deserve that? Maybe just not show up at the meetings?
We had hot pink. Fortunately I had my hot pink $2.99 Walgreen's flip flops...I was rocking.
It was good to see everyone. Our group had a water balloon sling shot and took great pleasure in slinging water balloons at the gray cousins...poor gray cousins, they didn't have the vibrant color and then they had flying water balloons to deal with on top of that.
I realized, in this short weekend, that although I have a "family", my family was not there. My family consists of people who don't share my blood but share my feelings, my thoughts, and my love.
Blood is only thicker than water in science.
Monday, July 26, 2010
It's another Day
I don't know if anyone reads this. I write for me. I just have to get this all out of me because it eats at me like a cancer.
I found out more details about how my son died. It was worse than I thought. How can it be worse? He's dead no matter how he died. Knowing he laid on the sidewalk dying, while his brother was questioned on the curb, hearing the gasps for breath, watching the police shine a flashlight in his face, while NO ONE, not one person did anything to try to preserve my son's life, is like a knife.....not a sharp knife, but a dull knife, being stabbed into my chest and slowly pulled upward.
My mind says I should be healing, my heart says it's only just begun. I don't know if anyone can relate to this sudden realization that your child is gone. Dead. It happens daily and it happens often. It just doesn't happen to MY CHILD.
I don't know what happened. I think that I finally started hearing things, because for awhile people were talking and I heard a noise, I just couldn't decipher it. Now I can...and I want to go back...to the days I couldn't decipher it.
I found out more details about how my son died. It was worse than I thought. How can it be worse? He's dead no matter how he died. Knowing he laid on the sidewalk dying, while his brother was questioned on the curb, hearing the gasps for breath, watching the police shine a flashlight in his face, while NO ONE, not one person did anything to try to preserve my son's life, is like a knife.....not a sharp knife, but a dull knife, being stabbed into my chest and slowly pulled upward.
My mind says I should be healing, my heart says it's only just begun. I don't know if anyone can relate to this sudden realization that your child is gone. Dead. It happens daily and it happens often. It just doesn't happen to MY CHILD.
I don't know what happened. I think that I finally started hearing things, because for awhile people were talking and I heard a noise, I just couldn't decipher it. Now I can...and I want to go back...to the days I couldn't decipher it.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Repeat after me...
During the week I'm ok. I work, I live, I'm ok. During the weekends life slows down, to a speed I cannot handle. This is my thought process on Saturday morning...I wake up. I start the coffee, the cat is yelling, I feed the cat her special Saturday cat food, I make a cup of coffee...and then.....
I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. If I could do it again I wouldn't. I'm sorry. Forgive me. I'm sorry.....then I drink and I sleep and I wake up again and rinse and repeat......FUCK!
I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. If I could do it again I wouldn't. I'm sorry. Forgive me. I'm sorry.....then I drink and I sleep and I wake up again and rinse and repeat......FUCK!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Life moves on...
...one day at a time from June 4th. Nothing will ever be the same. I was talking to my son tonight and I said "If you talk to your brother....", he used to ask "Which one?" He doesn't anymore.
I have decided someone needs to make these people accountable. Someone needs to say "Prove it", that someone, right now, is me
What else do I have to do? .
I have decided someone needs to make these people accountable. Someone needs to say "Prove it", that someone, right now, is me
What else do I have to do? .
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Foxes and Chickens
Good morning boys and girls. I have a little story for you today.
Once upon a time there was a hen house where all the little chickens went to lay their eggs and hatch their little chicks. They had lived there a long time and were quite content.
One day a fox came by and he said "Hello Chickens, nice place you have here" The chickens, being the trusting souls that they are said "Well good morning Mr. Fox. It is a beautiful place, isn't it? We're very lucky to have such a fine place to raise our babies."
The Fox, being a fox, sees his golden opportunity here. "Living in such a nice place you must worry all the time." "Oh no" said the chickens, "we feel very safe here."
"Oh really", said the Fox, "What if someone else sees this beautiful place and they want it for themselves? What if someone sees so many wonderful chickens running around here and they are so jealous they want to hurt you, or steal your babies, or even worse...what if they want to EAT YOU?"
"Oh my", said the chickens, "we have never thought of that!" The chickens immediately became nervous and started clucking among themselves. The fox sat and watched and waited....
Soon the chickens gathered around him. "What shall we do Mr. Fox?" they asked, "We are so afraid."
The Fox said oh so gently, "Oh don't you worry, my little friends, for I have just the solution for you" Relieved to hear this the chickens waited anxiously to hear what they could do to be safe.
"Me and my friends will keep you safe", said the Fox. "We will stand guard outside your beautiful home and make sure no one tries to take it from you. We will stay out here at night while you sleep so no one can get in and hurt you or take your babies." "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, " said the chickens and they all went happily about their business of living, clucking among themselves about how lucky there were to have found someone so willing to see to their safety.
Later that evening all the chickens filed into their little coop, happy in the knowledge that someone was there watching over them. The foxes gathered outside.
The next morning all that was left in the chicken coop was feathers, empty nests, and one lone chicken that had hidden behind a pile of straw! The chicken ran out of the coop in the morning and ran up to the foxes and said "You did this! I saw you! It was you! I'm going to tell the Farmer and he will have you all killed!"
The foxes, knowing that the little chicken was absolutely correct and being very afraid of the Farmer said "Oh no, little chicken, you are wrong. You must be in shock, we are so sorry for your loss, we are going to help you find who did this, because obviously dear chicken, it couldn't have been us for we were out here all night guarding your little home and we saw no one go in. We are going to help you find out who did this."
The little chicken, knowing that he alone was left to vindicate the death of all of his family and friends, and knowing he was outnumbered by the foxes asked timidly "How are you going to do that? What will you do?"
"We will investigate" said the foxes, quietly high fiving themselves behind their backs. "We will make sure that whoever did this comes to justice. Just give us some time and we will get back to you with what we have learned"
A week later the foxes came back. "Well, little chicken, we have found who did this terrible deed and we are going to tell you so you can tell the Farmer and justice will be done." "Who?", said the little chicken, "Tell me who killed my family and my friends! Who would do such a thing?"
"After a long and thorough investigation we have come to the conclusion that it was the Rooster. He's an angry fowl and he wanted that coop all to himself. The foxes you saw were there trying to protect you but sadly, the Rooster was too fast and too violent, they couldn't stop him in time. You were the only one we could save, and you should be ever so grateful that we were here for you. Now go tell the Farmer and when he gets more chickens to keep you company and we will come back and guard you again."
The moral of this story, boys and girls, is that if you have foxes watching the chicken coop, you will need someone to watch the foxes, and that someone should not be another fox. Foxes watching Foxes: this is what happens
Once upon a time there was a hen house where all the little chickens went to lay their eggs and hatch their little chicks. They had lived there a long time and were quite content.
One day a fox came by and he said "Hello Chickens, nice place you have here" The chickens, being the trusting souls that they are said "Well good morning Mr. Fox. It is a beautiful place, isn't it? We're very lucky to have such a fine place to raise our babies."
The Fox, being a fox, sees his golden opportunity here. "Living in such a nice place you must worry all the time." "Oh no" said the chickens, "we feel very safe here."
"Oh really", said the Fox, "What if someone else sees this beautiful place and they want it for themselves? What if someone sees so many wonderful chickens running around here and they are so jealous they want to hurt you, or steal your babies, or even worse...what if they want to EAT YOU?"
"Oh my", said the chickens, "we have never thought of that!" The chickens immediately became nervous and started clucking among themselves. The fox sat and watched and waited....
Soon the chickens gathered around him. "What shall we do Mr. Fox?" they asked, "We are so afraid."
The Fox said oh so gently, "Oh don't you worry, my little friends, for I have just the solution for you" Relieved to hear this the chickens waited anxiously to hear what they could do to be safe.
"Me and my friends will keep you safe", said the Fox. "We will stand guard outside your beautiful home and make sure no one tries to take it from you. We will stay out here at night while you sleep so no one can get in and hurt you or take your babies." "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, " said the chickens and they all went happily about their business of living, clucking among themselves about how lucky there were to have found someone so willing to see to their safety.
Later that evening all the chickens filed into their little coop, happy in the knowledge that someone was there watching over them. The foxes gathered outside.
The next morning all that was left in the chicken coop was feathers, empty nests, and one lone chicken that had hidden behind a pile of straw! The chicken ran out of the coop in the morning and ran up to the foxes and said "You did this! I saw you! It was you! I'm going to tell the Farmer and he will have you all killed!"
The foxes, knowing that the little chicken was absolutely correct and being very afraid of the Farmer said "Oh no, little chicken, you are wrong. You must be in shock, we are so sorry for your loss, we are going to help you find who did this, because obviously dear chicken, it couldn't have been us for we were out here all night guarding your little home and we saw no one go in. We are going to help you find out who did this."
The little chicken, knowing that he alone was left to vindicate the death of all of his family and friends, and knowing he was outnumbered by the foxes asked timidly "How are you going to do that? What will you do?"
"We will investigate" said the foxes, quietly high fiving themselves behind their backs. "We will make sure that whoever did this comes to justice. Just give us some time and we will get back to you with what we have learned"
A week later the foxes came back. "Well, little chicken, we have found who did this terrible deed and we are going to tell you so you can tell the Farmer and justice will be done." "Who?", said the little chicken, "Tell me who killed my family and my friends! Who would do such a thing?"
"After a long and thorough investigation we have come to the conclusion that it was the Rooster. He's an angry fowl and he wanted that coop all to himself. The foxes you saw were there trying to protect you but sadly, the Rooster was too fast and too violent, they couldn't stop him in time. You were the only one we could save, and you should be ever so grateful that we were here for you. Now go tell the Farmer and when he gets more chickens to keep you company and we will come back and guard you again."
The moral of this story, boys and girls, is that if you have foxes watching the chicken coop, you will need someone to watch the foxes, and that someone should not be another fox. Foxes watching Foxes: this is what happens
Thursday, July 8, 2010
A New Day
So today was just a day. My neck hurts. I had some guy tell me months ago that when your neck hurts it's usually actually your back, by your shoulder blade. He told to me to swing my arms forward and backward and that could loosen the muscles. I've been doing that so much today I look like one of those yard birds whose arms swing in the wind. I have tried heat, I have tried cold, I h ave taken ibuprofen and Tylenol together. I am hurting so bad I'm seriously thinking about using my "back massager" on my back.
I read some of the news today. I'm so glad that little girl in Missouri was found. SO glad. I'm really, really sick of hearing about the oil spill. I don't care anymore. It's a spill, it sucks. It will eventually be cleaned up.
Today I got an email from a true Obama hater. You know, you can have your political views, but when you dump them on me I'm going to fight back. Try using snopes now & then. My favorite thing these days is sending back the email with the snopes link and the message "not true". Funny, I never hear back on those.
Oh, and if you're going to use your Facebook page to express your really sensitive political or religious views, believe me when I tell you I won't be reading them.
Oh, and just for the record, Jake might suck, but Vienna was a gold digging liar. I'm sorry her only talent is seducing a dumb pilot, but it's not going to make her a star, and now she's famous for what she did wrong. Sucks to be her.
Yay, takes the pressure off of "sucks to be me".
Oh, and one last note...really, seriously, keep your marriage difficulties off of Facebook. It's cheap and it's ugly and most of all, it makes you look ridiculous, especially when a day later you're both professing your undying love and devotion. Seriously people, this is a marriage, there are children involved, this is where the whole "don't air your dirty laundry" comes into play.
I read some of the news today. I'm so glad that little girl in Missouri was found. SO glad. I'm really, really sick of hearing about the oil spill. I don't care anymore. It's a spill, it sucks. It will eventually be cleaned up.
Today I got an email from a true Obama hater. You know, you can have your political views, but when you dump them on me I'm going to fight back. Try using snopes now & then. My favorite thing these days is sending back the email with the snopes link and the message "not true". Funny, I never hear back on those.
Oh, and if you're going to use your Facebook page to express your really sensitive political or religious views, believe me when I tell you I won't be reading them.
Oh, and just for the record, Jake might suck, but Vienna was a gold digging liar. I'm sorry her only talent is seducing a dumb pilot, but it's not going to make her a star, and now she's famous for what she did wrong. Sucks to be her.
Yay, takes the pressure off of "sucks to be me".
Oh, and one last note...really, seriously, keep your marriage difficulties off of Facebook. It's cheap and it's ugly and most of all, it makes you look ridiculous, especially when a day later you're both professing your undying love and devotion. Seriously people, this is a marriage, there are children involved, this is where the whole "don't air your dirty laundry" comes into play.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Today was a Good Day
I woke up this morning and I cussed at the cat and I made coffee and then I remembered. That is like a big deal in my book. When I remembered it didn't make me want to kill anyone, it didn't even make me cry, but it did make me sad.
I can do sad. I did my laundry and then I headed to my parents house to drop off some stuff I had. On the way there I passed the thrift store.....I couldn't pass the thrift store....so I went in. I found some cute stuff, then headed on to my parents house.
I wasn't sure they were home and I wasn't sure that I wanted them there. But my Mom was. I walked in ready to be mad. "Where were you? Do you even know how much pain I've been in?" But she was and she did. She couldn't handle it, but she did. She gave me coffee and she listened to my stories, and she took me out to look at her garden and I know she cared. Not the way I would've cared, but the way she does.
She gave me some cards that went to her house instead of mine. They meant a lot to me. She asked me what they said...I weighed it. Reading them to her I would cry, and finally getting that she doesn't cry...I said "They are sympathy cards and they mean the world to me."
I feel like I'm healing. There is a big part of me that feels like this is so disloyal to Benjamin At what point do you live everyday knowing that your son died the way he did, and be ok?
It's the old "ok" question.....and it makes me feel like a traitor.
I can do sad. I did my laundry and then I headed to my parents house to drop off some stuff I had. On the way there I passed the thrift store.....I couldn't pass the thrift store....so I went in. I found some cute stuff, then headed on to my parents house.
I wasn't sure they were home and I wasn't sure that I wanted them there. But my Mom was. I walked in ready to be mad. "Where were you? Do you even know how much pain I've been in?" But she was and she did. She couldn't handle it, but she did. She gave me coffee and she listened to my stories, and she took me out to look at her garden and I know she cared. Not the way I would've cared, but the way she does.
She gave me some cards that went to her house instead of mine. They meant a lot to me. She asked me what they said...I weighed it. Reading them to her I would cry, and finally getting that she doesn't cry...I said "They are sympathy cards and they mean the world to me."
I feel like I'm healing. There is a big part of me that feels like this is so disloyal to Benjamin At what point do you live everyday knowing that your son died the way he did, and be ok?
It's the old "ok" question.....and it makes me feel like a traitor.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Miscellaneous thoughts
I remember the day I learned how to spell miscellaneous, it was a grand day. I didn't have to write misc. anymore, I could actually write the word.
Why do people who ride bikes think that they have to wear spandex? I remember riding my bike for miles and miles and I don't think I ever wore spandex. It's a thing. "I wear spandex because I'm a bike rider" Well dumbass, I can see you're a bike rider, you're on a bike taking up a 4th of my lane and now I have to move over. How about you moving over Mr. Spandex. I'll bet your turn signal doesn't even work.
I made myself the grandest of dinners tonight. I cooked a steak, medium rare, sauteed some mushrooms and baked a potato, and then added some sour cream, some Wasabi to dip the steak in...it was scrumptious. Another good word.
I went out and took a walk by the lake yesterday. I sifted through the trash to find my beach glass. People are such pigs. Always bitching, always moaning, but rarely seeing their part in the problem. Shut up!
I sent the ex an email today, telling him that I was wrong for thinking he was something he wasn't.....like a good person or something. That the blame falls entirely on my shoulders since he's proven himself to be a dick time and time again. How shocked I was when he walked out on me when I had car problems, or my best friend died, or my kids drove me crazy or I hated my job...and for some reason I was shocked again, when he walked away while I mourned the death of my son.
Do I seem angry? I'm sorry, I totally mean to sound angry, but I should probably keep it to myself. It seems to make people uncomfortable. Not that I'm uncomfortable. Not sleeping, the guilt, the replaying of the whole thing over and over and over in my head. The hellish waking up, the nightmare of going to sleep knowing that I'll wake up again.
Sucks to be me.
What I really look forward to is more people telling me I'll be ok. That's what is important. Me being ok. I really like that look that they get on their faces, or I hear in their voices...you know, that judgmental look and sound. I had one lady say "He was 29, oh he wasn't that young" she also said that "Maybe this will open your other son's eyes"....oh, I'm absolutely, positive it did.
I'll be ok. My son is dead but what I'm thinking about is the day I'll be ok.
I'm NEVER going to be OK. MY SON IS DEAD. I DON'T EVEN WANT TO BE OK!
I made an appointment to get some counseling. I don't know how normal this amount of anger is....I've never had a child shot in cold blood in front of his brother before. Hopefully they can help me shed some light on the way I feel. But the one thing I promise you, the one thing I swear to God, I will never, ever be ok. I may learn to cope. I may get through my day. I may even laugh....but I will never, ever be ok.
Why do people who ride bikes think that they have to wear spandex? I remember riding my bike for miles and miles and I don't think I ever wore spandex. It's a thing. "I wear spandex because I'm a bike rider" Well dumbass, I can see you're a bike rider, you're on a bike taking up a 4th of my lane and now I have to move over. How about you moving over Mr. Spandex. I'll bet your turn signal doesn't even work.
I made myself the grandest of dinners tonight. I cooked a steak, medium rare, sauteed some mushrooms and baked a potato, and then added some sour cream, some Wasabi to dip the steak in...it was scrumptious. Another good word.
I went out and took a walk by the lake yesterday. I sifted through the trash to find my beach glass. People are such pigs. Always bitching, always moaning, but rarely seeing their part in the problem. Shut up!
I sent the ex an email today, telling him that I was wrong for thinking he was something he wasn't.....like a good person or something. That the blame falls entirely on my shoulders since he's proven himself to be a dick time and time again. How shocked I was when he walked out on me when I had car problems, or my best friend died, or my kids drove me crazy or I hated my job...and for some reason I was shocked again, when he walked away while I mourned the death of my son.
Do I seem angry? I'm sorry, I totally mean to sound angry, but I should probably keep it to myself. It seems to make people uncomfortable. Not that I'm uncomfortable. Not sleeping, the guilt, the replaying of the whole thing over and over and over in my head. The hellish waking up, the nightmare of going to sleep knowing that I'll wake up again.
Sucks to be me.
What I really look forward to is more people telling me I'll be ok. That's what is important. Me being ok. I really like that look that they get on their faces, or I hear in their voices...you know, that judgmental look and sound. I had one lady say "He was 29, oh he wasn't that young" she also said that "Maybe this will open your other son's eyes"....oh, I'm absolutely, positive it did.
I'll be ok. My son is dead but what I'm thinking about is the day I'll be ok.
I'm NEVER going to be OK. MY SON IS DEAD. I DON'T EVEN WANT TO BE OK!
I made an appointment to get some counseling. I don't know how normal this amount of anger is....I've never had a child shot in cold blood in front of his brother before. Hopefully they can help me shed some light on the way I feel. But the one thing I promise you, the one thing I swear to God, I will never, ever be ok. I may learn to cope. I may get through my day. I may even laugh....but I will never, ever be ok.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
What is the definition of brave?
I'm wondering who decided that living was brave and dying was not. Who said that? Why is staying alive and breathing air brave?
It seems to me that for as long as I can remember, breathing has been hard. I have made the decision time and time again to keep on doing it and I'm wondering why. What the fuck am I doing this for?
When my son died everyone told me he's in a better place...really? What place is that? It's not here with me. How and why is that better? I don't believe in Heaven and the only Hell I believe in I'm living. I have been living, it's been endless and I'm tired.
I have seen, felt, imagined the end so many times. It seems like it would be releasing and pleasant but I can't do it because it is considered being a coward. It would hurt the children I have left. The children. They are grown men. And now instead of 3 I have 2. I have this gigantic hole where he used to be. He needed me the most and I let him down.
I guess now I see why living is brave. Because when you suck at it and everything you do is just one more mistake it IS brave to face another day. Eventually it's going to catch up to you and everyone will know you for the fraud you are...and that day, you will either fight for your life or you won't.
It seems to me that for as long as I can remember, breathing has been hard. I have made the decision time and time again to keep on doing it and I'm wondering why. What the fuck am I doing this for?
When my son died everyone told me he's in a better place...really? What place is that? It's not here with me. How and why is that better? I don't believe in Heaven and the only Hell I believe in I'm living. I have been living, it's been endless and I'm tired.
I have seen, felt, imagined the end so many times. It seems like it would be releasing and pleasant but I can't do it because it is considered being a coward. It would hurt the children I have left. The children. They are grown men. And now instead of 3 I have 2. I have this gigantic hole where he used to be. He needed me the most and I let him down.
I guess now I see why living is brave. Because when you suck at it and everything you do is just one more mistake it IS brave to face another day. Eventually it's going to catch up to you and everyone will know you for the fraud you are...and that day, you will either fight for your life or you won't.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Granddaughters
So I'm talking to my granddaughter about her time at camp....she said she had a blast, but the canoes were too old and the pond too dangerous. A dangerous pond? Old canoes? Where exactly did she go to camp!
I asked her if they at least had camp fires. She says yes, she got burned at one on her collar bone. Burned? What the heck? So I'm asking her how burned? Is it bad? Did it blister? How big is it? Nickel size? Dime? Quarter? And she says...."it's like a medium sized vampire bite." Hahahahaha!
God I love that girl.
I asked her if they at least had camp fires. She says yes, she got burned at one on her collar bone. Burned? What the heck? So I'm asking her how burned? Is it bad? Did it blister? How big is it? Nickel size? Dime? Quarter? And she says...."it's like a medium sized vampire bite." Hahahahaha!
God I love that girl.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Today
Today was just another day. I woke up, I stretched, and then I remembered how my son died. I decided today I had to do something, one thing everyday.
I went to work, that was one thing, but not one extra thing so I called to get the police reports on what had happened. On the third call I got a nice lady who told me the investigation was still pending...whatever that means, the officer is working so I'm sure he's not too worried.
Then I decided to go withdraw from school. My books are sitting here, I've moved them around some, but I certainly haven't done anything about them. I should withdraw so at least I don't have an "F" on my record. I haven't had an "F" since highschool and I wasn't paying for my education then. I just don't care. I want to care, I try to care....I just don't.
So I go to the school to withdraw and she thinks my reasons are valid but there are forms to fill out. Ok. I'm ok, I can do this, I fill out her forms.
Then she hands me ONE FINAL PAPER. This is the one where I explain why I'm withdrawing, and it asks for proof. I ask "Do they want my son's death certificate, I don't know where to get that, do you?" She gives me a website. Oh My Lord...it's got ancestry in it's address. I say "He died two weeks ago", she gives me the address to the Wisconsin court house.......he lived in New Mexico.
She says, "An Obituary will work." I say, "I don't even know if he had one. I'll look. I hope my ex didn't list my name as 'unknown'." Ha. Ha.
I came home and looked it up....jokes on me. I wasn't listed at all. My son was motherless.
I went to work, that was one thing, but not one extra thing so I called to get the police reports on what had happened. On the third call I got a nice lady who told me the investigation was still pending...whatever that means, the officer is working so I'm sure he's not too worried.
Then I decided to go withdraw from school. My books are sitting here, I've moved them around some, but I certainly haven't done anything about them. I should withdraw so at least I don't have an "F" on my record. I haven't had an "F" since highschool and I wasn't paying for my education then. I just don't care. I want to care, I try to care....I just don't.
So I go to the school to withdraw and she thinks my reasons are valid but there are forms to fill out. Ok. I'm ok, I can do this, I fill out her forms.
Then she hands me ONE FINAL PAPER. This is the one where I explain why I'm withdrawing, and it asks for proof. I ask "Do they want my son's death certificate, I don't know where to get that, do you?" She gives me a website. Oh My Lord...it's got ancestry in it's address. I say "He died two weeks ago", she gives me the address to the Wisconsin court house.......he lived in New Mexico.
She says, "An Obituary will work." I say, "I don't even know if he had one. I'll look. I hope my ex didn't list my name as 'unknown'." Ha. Ha.
I came home and looked it up....jokes on me. I wasn't listed at all. My son was motherless.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Breathe
Sometimes all you can do is just keep on breathing. It's not that you want to, it's that you have to.
My youngest son died 11 days ago. It was ugly and unwarranted and in front of his brother. He was shot in the chest by a police officer. I have a moment where I am not just living and I see him, even though I didn't see him, trying to get up...the shock that must have been on his face, the shock that had to be on his brother's face as that shot rang out.
The shock that I'm living....
I wake up every morning and for five seconds I just wake up, then I remember that I lost a son. He will never, ever be here again. Ever. Then my mind moves on to the son that is living with that vision in his head and I know he will never, ever be the same person he was on June 3rd.
To this day no one involved has called me to tell me my son is dead. I know he is, I read the news story on the internet & called the hospital where they told me he was never brought in. Eventually my middle son borrowed a phone since the police took his and called me to tell me that my baby was gone. I knew. Then I went to his funeral.
He wasn't perfect, he had problems, but he also had many, many people who loved him. He had a kind soul.
I remember asking him one day if he was mad at me. I wasn't the best Mom and he had every right to be, but he wasn't. "You did the best you could, Mom"......he was forever forgiving.
One day I'm going to wake up and for more than five seconds I am going to be ok, for now I will say I am. No one wants to hear that I'm not. What are the stages of grief? Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression & Acceptance? I'm hanging out in Anger. I love the sounds of little children, I loathe the sounds of young adults having fun. I have no patience. I am very ready to hurt someone, and I'm not sure it matters who.
I heard a song the other morning and it struck a chord. Anna Nalick "Breathe" Life is like an hour glass glued to the table.
The end.
My youngest son died 11 days ago. It was ugly and unwarranted and in front of his brother. He was shot in the chest by a police officer. I have a moment where I am not just living and I see him, even though I didn't see him, trying to get up...the shock that must have been on his face, the shock that had to be on his brother's face as that shot rang out.
The shock that I'm living....
I wake up every morning and for five seconds I just wake up, then I remember that I lost a son. He will never, ever be here again. Ever. Then my mind moves on to the son that is living with that vision in his head and I know he will never, ever be the same person he was on June 3rd.
To this day no one involved has called me to tell me my son is dead. I know he is, I read the news story on the internet & called the hospital where they told me he was never brought in. Eventually my middle son borrowed a phone since the police took his and called me to tell me that my baby was gone. I knew. Then I went to his funeral.
He wasn't perfect, he had problems, but he also had many, many people who loved him. He had a kind soul.
I remember asking him one day if he was mad at me. I wasn't the best Mom and he had every right to be, but he wasn't. "You did the best you could, Mom"......he was forever forgiving.
One day I'm going to wake up and for more than five seconds I am going to be ok, for now I will say I am. No one wants to hear that I'm not. What are the stages of grief? Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression & Acceptance? I'm hanging out in Anger. I love the sounds of little children, I loathe the sounds of young adults having fun. I have no patience. I am very ready to hurt someone, and I'm not sure it matters who.
I heard a song the other morning and it struck a chord. Anna Nalick "Breathe" Life is like an hour glass glued to the table.
The end.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Ruts
Have you ever been stuck in a rut? No, I mean a real rut. I used to have a 100 yard red clay drive way in New Mexico. Monsoon season and that driveway was one very big rut. You could aim straight & follow the rut and get out, but one wrong move and you were stuck. Sideways....the only way out was to get back in the path of the rut and try to go slowly.
I've been stuck in a rut. Not a red clay rut, but a life rut. Wet red clay all the way out and one slip and I was out of the rut and just spinning my tires.
Sometimes the way out of a rut is straight through it. Hang on tight, keep the steering wheel steady and aim for the horizon. It does no good to complain about the rut, it is what it is. It does no good to fight the rut, the rut doesn't care how you feel. You can steer left and you can steer right, but the only way out is to just keep moving forward. Slow and steady.
Today I beat the rut. I got up, I went to the gym, walked 2 miles and burned 207 calories. I was sweating people! It was dripping down my forehead, that was awesome.
I colored my hair a really awesome slightly reddish color, got my nails done, took care of some work responsibilities, got my Mom my signature Mother's Day gift, went to the grocery store and got what I need, not what I want....except for the low calorie ice cream bars I let myself have, and now I'm home....not throwing myself into my housecleaning, but not sitting here looking at it either.
Oh, and I bought myself flowers, because I'm awesome.
I've been stuck in a rut. Not a red clay rut, but a life rut. Wet red clay all the way out and one slip and I was out of the rut and just spinning my tires.
Sometimes the way out of a rut is straight through it. Hang on tight, keep the steering wheel steady and aim for the horizon. It does no good to complain about the rut, it is what it is. It does no good to fight the rut, the rut doesn't care how you feel. You can steer left and you can steer right, but the only way out is to just keep moving forward. Slow and steady.
Today I beat the rut. I got up, I went to the gym, walked 2 miles and burned 207 calories. I was sweating people! It was dripping down my forehead, that was awesome.
I colored my hair a really awesome slightly reddish color, got my nails done, took care of some work responsibilities, got my Mom my signature Mother's Day gift, went to the grocery store and got what I need, not what I want....except for the low calorie ice cream bars I let myself have, and now I'm home....not throwing myself into my housecleaning, but not sitting here looking at it either.
Oh, and I bought myself flowers, because I'm awesome.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Cell Phones & other musings
Remember the days when the phone cord wasn't long enough for you to get any privacy? I'll bet most of you don't. Now we have cell phones. Cell phones cause car accidents, cell phones cause loss of intimacy.....oh really? You don't believe me? Talk to someone whose partner is obsessed with their cell phone. Today I had two conversations with two different people and both of those conversations dropped....I never heard from them again. Was that on purpose or just a part of cell phone living? Maybe they just regretted calling me...that wouldn't be the first time.
I have a pay as you go phone because I despise bills. When I bought it I paid extra to get double minutes, now every time I pay for 200, I get 400. That makes me happy...even if I do pay too much for those minutes I won't get a bill on the 25th of the month.
My son is a criminal. There I said it. It's weighing on me, it's making me question my parenting and my own morals and I'm not even sure what else. It makes me angry and sad. My son is a criminal. What an every day word for something that is really just so ugly. He does things with no regard for who else gets hurt. He gets caught, because if you notice I never said my son is a smart or good or wily criminal, just that he is one. He does stupid stuff that hurts other people and then he goes to jail. He sits in there and for all I can fathom he's right at home. The people that he's hurt, however, probably don't sleep that well, and for that, I'm sorry.
I tried, I want you to know. I did. I may not have been the best Mother but I did try to instill some morals in my children. Two of them have them, and even if their lives aren't the best, they seem to understand when they've hurt someone else and they react like we react when we've discovered that our actions have caused pain.
I have to go now. Remind me to tell you next time about the hole in my pants and how I fixed it, because that, my friends, is a much better story than this one has turned out to be.
I have a pay as you go phone because I despise bills. When I bought it I paid extra to get double minutes, now every time I pay for 200, I get 400. That makes me happy...even if I do pay too much for those minutes I won't get a bill on the 25th of the month.
My son is a criminal. There I said it. It's weighing on me, it's making me question my parenting and my own morals and I'm not even sure what else. It makes me angry and sad. My son is a criminal. What an every day word for something that is really just so ugly. He does things with no regard for who else gets hurt. He gets caught, because if you notice I never said my son is a smart or good or wily criminal, just that he is one. He does stupid stuff that hurts other people and then he goes to jail. He sits in there and for all I can fathom he's right at home. The people that he's hurt, however, probably don't sleep that well, and for that, I'm sorry.
I tried, I want you to know. I did. I may not have been the best Mother but I did try to instill some morals in my children. Two of them have them, and even if their lives aren't the best, they seem to understand when they've hurt someone else and they react like we react when we've discovered that our actions have caused pain.
I have to go now. Remind me to tell you next time about the hole in my pants and how I fixed it, because that, my friends, is a much better story than this one has turned out to be.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Sloth Like Sundays
Here I sit after taking 3 hours to watch Julie & Julia, pausing to clean, call the landlord about a heat problem and running to the store to get the ingredients for the potato salad I'm craving. I also picked up the ingredients for Bloody Mary's and am now enjoying the perfect Bloody Mary made with my brother's home made Worcestershire sauce and my home made pickled green beans made with my Dad's homemade pickle brine. It's a wonderful experience and I have to say my brother's Worcestershire sauce is so good I wanted to lick the spoon I stirred it with. Who knew you could make that stuff?
I had heat issues this morning. After layering shirt after shirt and wondering why I couldn't get warm I realized it was because the temperature in my apartment was dropping lower and lower and was at a not comfortable 62 degrees. After a phone call to my landlord he was here, johnny on the spot, and discovered a problem that could have cost him a boiler. I felt like a hero! Yay me!
Oh let me tell you about my two new discoveries. One is my Pledge Pet Hair cleaner. If you have pets this thing is wonderful. Just sweep it over the hairy spot and voila! It picks up the hair and doesn't leave that sticky residue those tape thingies leave. Zoey seems to want to challenge me on how many times a day I will use it by somehow managing to shed more hair than I even knew she had on my couch. Ha! I'm winning. I just grab my little pet hair picker upper and sweep it over the spot and my couch is once again unfurry.
My second awesome discovery is a new skin oil that my very talented and ambitious niece makes. I asked her for some samples to send to a few girlfriends and she nicely included an extra bottle just for me. I used it this morning and I love, love, love it. I'm hoping this might coax the pimple that has taken lodging on my cheek into submission. I will be sending out the five samples to a few girlfriends but if you are curious or think you might like some you can check it out on www.myskinandbones.com. It's great stuff.
Ok, enough of the commercial announcements this morning. On to my potato salad. Have a wonderful Sunday!
I had heat issues this morning. After layering shirt after shirt and wondering why I couldn't get warm I realized it was because the temperature in my apartment was dropping lower and lower and was at a not comfortable 62 degrees. After a phone call to my landlord he was here, johnny on the spot, and discovered a problem that could have cost him a boiler. I felt like a hero! Yay me!
Oh let me tell you about my two new discoveries. One is my Pledge Pet Hair cleaner. If you have pets this thing is wonderful. Just sweep it over the hairy spot and voila! It picks up the hair and doesn't leave that sticky residue those tape thingies leave. Zoey seems to want to challenge me on how many times a day I will use it by somehow managing to shed more hair than I even knew she had on my couch. Ha! I'm winning. I just grab my little pet hair picker upper and sweep it over the spot and my couch is once again unfurry.
My second awesome discovery is a new skin oil that my very talented and ambitious niece makes. I asked her for some samples to send to a few girlfriends and she nicely included an extra bottle just for me. I used it this morning and I love, love, love it. I'm hoping this might coax the pimple that has taken lodging on my cheek into submission. I will be sending out the five samples to a few girlfriends but if you are curious or think you might like some you can check it out on www.myskinandbones.com. It's great stuff.
Ok, enough of the commercial announcements this morning. On to my potato salad. Have a wonderful Sunday!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Nifty Fifty?
I was just reading my friend's blog, well written, funny, creative and all about turning 30. When I was thirty I had a tight ass and a flat belly (I'll bet she does too). My hair didn't have any gray in it and I could still wear short shorts. Today....not so much.
My belly hasn't been flat in about a decade, my ass has long since gone south, the hair has gray about every six weeks if I neglect it and short shorts? Yeah, those would be my underwear.
Recently I had some health issues. It turned out to be nothing but for about a week there I was pretty nervous and actually making plans in case of the worst. Who would take my cat? Could I move back in with my parents? Maybe I should switch shifts at work so I can make my Dr's appointments.....but, like I said, it turned out to be nothing. I'm sure my cat and my parents breathed a sigh of relief.
What this whole thing DID do, however, was make me realize my age and my limitations. Those limitations were even greater because of the sedentary lifestyle I leave, my love of wine and my lack of will power when it comes to tobacco products and those deep satisfying inhalations accompanying a cup of coffee in the morning or my favorite (for the moment) alcoholic beverage at night. Basically I had turned myself into a sloth.
So I joined a gym and gave up the nicotine (again). Giving up the nicotine is proving to be less difficult than I had imagined but joining the gym has become quite the adventure. I think adventure is good for me, so I am embracing in wholeheartedly...with arms that can barely open a pickle jar and legs that threaten to buckle on my way down the stairs. You see, with the membership came a free consultation with a personal trainer. Oh, he was pretty on the eyes and I swear I could've bounced a dime off of his ass, not that I was looking at his ass or anything....
I explained to him that I had hit 50 and I wasn't pleased with the direction my body was taking. Noticeably DOWN. He gave me one of those smiles 28 year olds in top physical condition gives to someone like me. It was sympathetic, it was understanding and it was with twinkling blue eyes....he said "I can help you".
I wanted nothing more than to show this guy that I could do this. I may be 50, but I still got it, or have it, or at least could find it with some gentle guidance. The exercises he showed me couldn't be sanctioned by the AMA, I'm not even sure they're legal. He had me standing with my legs spread wider than the width of my not so slim body and he wanted me to bend. BEND? With my back straight and my eyes straight ahead. How was I supposed to know where to put my hands when I inevitably fell over. And then....then...he handed me two 10 lb. weights. I THOUGHT HE LIKED ME!!
I did three of the exercises he showed me (cheated on the reps) and 30 minutes on the treadmill (where I burned off 100 calories then went to my parents and ate 1100). My legs feel like rubber and my shoulders feel like I picked cotton all day.
I'll be back tomorrow though...because dammit, I'll show him! Fifty may not be nifty, but it isn't a quitter either.
My belly hasn't been flat in about a decade, my ass has long since gone south, the hair has gray about every six weeks if I neglect it and short shorts? Yeah, those would be my underwear.
Recently I had some health issues. It turned out to be nothing but for about a week there I was pretty nervous and actually making plans in case of the worst. Who would take my cat? Could I move back in with my parents? Maybe I should switch shifts at work so I can make my Dr's appointments.....but, like I said, it turned out to be nothing. I'm sure my cat and my parents breathed a sigh of relief.
What this whole thing DID do, however, was make me realize my age and my limitations. Those limitations were even greater because of the sedentary lifestyle I leave, my love of wine and my lack of will power when it comes to tobacco products and those deep satisfying inhalations accompanying a cup of coffee in the morning or my favorite (for the moment) alcoholic beverage at night. Basically I had turned myself into a sloth.
So I joined a gym and gave up the nicotine (again). Giving up the nicotine is proving to be less difficult than I had imagined but joining the gym has become quite the adventure. I think adventure is good for me, so I am embracing in wholeheartedly...with arms that can barely open a pickle jar and legs that threaten to buckle on my way down the stairs. You see, with the membership came a free consultation with a personal trainer. Oh, he was pretty on the eyes and I swear I could've bounced a dime off of his ass, not that I was looking at his ass or anything....
I explained to him that I had hit 50 and I wasn't pleased with the direction my body was taking. Noticeably DOWN. He gave me one of those smiles 28 year olds in top physical condition gives to someone like me. It was sympathetic, it was understanding and it was with twinkling blue eyes....he said "I can help you".
I wanted nothing more than to show this guy that I could do this. I may be 50, but I still got it, or have it, or at least could find it with some gentle guidance. The exercises he showed me couldn't be sanctioned by the AMA, I'm not even sure they're legal. He had me standing with my legs spread wider than the width of my not so slim body and he wanted me to bend. BEND? With my back straight and my eyes straight ahead. How was I supposed to know where to put my hands when I inevitably fell over. And then....then...he handed me two 10 lb. weights. I THOUGHT HE LIKED ME!!
I did three of the exercises he showed me (cheated on the reps) and 30 minutes on the treadmill (where I burned off 100 calories then went to my parents and ate 1100). My legs feel like rubber and my shoulders feel like I picked cotton all day.
I'll be back tomorrow though...because dammit, I'll show him! Fifty may not be nifty, but it isn't a quitter either.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Rant
It's early morning & I have to go out and do what it is I do to put food on my table and in Zoey's bowl, but first I have to get this off of my chest.
Why do grown women let themselves be completely taken over by not so grown up men? What is it in our make up that makes us think that our life is so sad and shoddy that it needs the direction of someone else, even if that someone else barely has a life of his own?
If you're reading this and wondering if I'm talking about you, chances are I"m not, because the person that I'm talking about would never take the time to come here and read anything that doesn't start with the name of the loser that is living in her house. The same person who in the first 3 months of their relationship was in court and the hospital and taking up all of her time with his 50 year old drama that she suddenly decided that being needed was a higher priority than anything in her life before that. This is the same person who can no longer answer her phone and the only reason I even know she's alive is because she signs into Facebook to post about him. When I threatened to send the police to her house to check on her she said "I can't talk to you when you're like this"...um, honey, you haven't talked to me in months so don't flatter yourself into thinking you know anything about me or "how I am".
I hope that if I ever hook up with some loser who takes over my home, my life and my mind that someone slaps me...HARD.
Why do grown women let themselves be completely taken over by not so grown up men? What is it in our make up that makes us think that our life is so sad and shoddy that it needs the direction of someone else, even if that someone else barely has a life of his own?
If you're reading this and wondering if I'm talking about you, chances are I"m not, because the person that I'm talking about would never take the time to come here and read anything that doesn't start with the name of the loser that is living in her house. The same person who in the first 3 months of their relationship was in court and the hospital and taking up all of her time with his 50 year old drama that she suddenly decided that being needed was a higher priority than anything in her life before that. This is the same person who can no longer answer her phone and the only reason I even know she's alive is because she signs into Facebook to post about him. When I threatened to send the police to her house to check on her she said "I can't talk to you when you're like this"...um, honey, you haven't talked to me in months so don't flatter yourself into thinking you know anything about me or "how I am".
I hope that if I ever hook up with some loser who takes over my home, my life and my mind that someone slaps me...HARD.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Planes, Trains & Automobiles
Travel much? I don't, not as a matter of my daily, regular life. I have lately though. Two months ago I took a plane from Wisconsin to New Mexico. I know they've made those planes smaller, pretty soon we're all going to be sitting on the wing of one of those Styrofoam airplanes we had as kids hoping for an updraft. The 6'5" guy sitting next to me didn't seem to notice, but maybe he thought the natural place for his elbow was in my ribcage.
Two weeks ago I took a train into Chicago. I like those train rides. Not too long, not too short. I forgot to bring any reading material with me though and really picked a bad seat because I was facing away from the rest of the passengers. No one to observe. Fortunately a couple of Great Lakes sailors out for the weekend sat behind me and kept me amused for the entire train ride. Their plans included a lot of "bouncing" from here to there and I'm guessing from their plans to "bounce" to the 5-25 club, whatever that is, a lot of alcohol. Am I getting older or are our sailors getting younger. They looked like they were 14.
On the train ride home I was once again left with nothing to read. I don't know why I'm so compulsive about getting where I have to go with time to spare because I had plenty of time to stop at one of the shops and pick up a magazine or a paper, but I didn't. Instead I got on the train and waited for 20 minutes until it was departure time. I wasn't worried, though, because I figured I'd just amuse myself the same way I did on the way into the city. I'd just eavesdrop on people's conversations and come to my own conclusions on what kind of life they were living.
Well only in my world does a person get on a train and figure out about a fifteen minutes later that the entire car is filled with deaf people. You can't eavesdrop on deaf people, at least I can't. Besides the fact that I don't know any sign language except I love you, a few letters and I think the sign for Mother, it's rude to stare. And once again I chose a seat in front where even if I wanted to stare, which I didn't, I couldn't without turning around. I spent the entire ride sitting in front, staring ahead and wishing I had remembered to bring my book.
Last week I had a meeting in the "industrial" part of town. Have you ever noticed how much people use their horns in those kind of areas? Is it because they're used to noise? Do they have more to say and they say it by pounding on their steering wheel? Are they just angrier? I was startled over and over again by the sound of horns. Were they honking at me? Was I going the wrong way? Are they long lost friends of mine who also happened to be cruising the industrial area trying to find the right building?
Traveling can bring out the best and the worst in people. Whether you're a giant man who thinks that because he's just large and not over weight he gets to take up his space and mine, or a young sailor excited about getting some time off and enough alcohol to last him until the next weekend, or just your everyday person who gets behind the wheel of your car and suddenly thinks that everyone else on the road is their enemy or at the very least trying to sabotage their plans to get where they are going, I think how you travel says a lot about who you are.
At the last stop on my train ride the deaf man who sat in my peripheral vision stopped and signed something to me. I hope he was saying "Have a nice day" and not "Bet you wish you'd have remembered a book, huh?"
Two weeks ago I took a train into Chicago. I like those train rides. Not too long, not too short. I forgot to bring any reading material with me though and really picked a bad seat because I was facing away from the rest of the passengers. No one to observe. Fortunately a couple of Great Lakes sailors out for the weekend sat behind me and kept me amused for the entire train ride. Their plans included a lot of "bouncing" from here to there and I'm guessing from their plans to "bounce" to the 5-25 club, whatever that is, a lot of alcohol. Am I getting older or are our sailors getting younger. They looked like they were 14.
On the train ride home I was once again left with nothing to read. I don't know why I'm so compulsive about getting where I have to go with time to spare because I had plenty of time to stop at one of the shops and pick up a magazine or a paper, but I didn't. Instead I got on the train and waited for 20 minutes until it was departure time. I wasn't worried, though, because I figured I'd just amuse myself the same way I did on the way into the city. I'd just eavesdrop on people's conversations and come to my own conclusions on what kind of life they were living.
Well only in my world does a person get on a train and figure out about a fifteen minutes later that the entire car is filled with deaf people. You can't eavesdrop on deaf people, at least I can't. Besides the fact that I don't know any sign language except I love you, a few letters and I think the sign for Mother, it's rude to stare. And once again I chose a seat in front where even if I wanted to stare, which I didn't, I couldn't without turning around. I spent the entire ride sitting in front, staring ahead and wishing I had remembered to bring my book.
Last week I had a meeting in the "industrial" part of town. Have you ever noticed how much people use their horns in those kind of areas? Is it because they're used to noise? Do they have more to say and they say it by pounding on their steering wheel? Are they just angrier? I was startled over and over again by the sound of horns. Were they honking at me? Was I going the wrong way? Are they long lost friends of mine who also happened to be cruising the industrial area trying to find the right building?
Traveling can bring out the best and the worst in people. Whether you're a giant man who thinks that because he's just large and not over weight he gets to take up his space and mine, or a young sailor excited about getting some time off and enough alcohol to last him until the next weekend, or just your everyday person who gets behind the wheel of your car and suddenly thinks that everyone else on the road is their enemy or at the very least trying to sabotage their plans to get where they are going, I think how you travel says a lot about who you are.
At the last stop on my train ride the deaf man who sat in my peripheral vision stopped and signed something to me. I hope he was saying "Have a nice day" and not "Bet you wish you'd have remembered a book, huh?"
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Idiots
I wish the news was filled with people skipping at gas pumps and foiled bank robbers but it's not....
It's not.
Ok, there is the Olympics and I would thank you CNN if you didn't decide this is something I care about, because I don't. I just don't.
I care about our babies. All those little babies that deserve to have parents that adore them, and they don't. When was the last time you heard "A stranger took my baby" and believed it? Strangers don't take babies, not unless they are slicing them out of your womb.
Maybe I just read too much news. Maybe my morbid curiousity keeps me in tune with all the really vile things that people do to each other.
In my defense, I watch every happy story I can find, and I smile, sometimes I cry, but I always feel better.
It's not.
Ok, there is the Olympics and I would thank you CNN if you didn't decide this is something I care about, because I don't. I just don't.
I care about our babies. All those little babies that deserve to have parents that adore them, and they don't. When was the last time you heard "A stranger took my baby" and believed it? Strangers don't take babies, not unless they are slicing them out of your womb.
Maybe I just read too much news. Maybe my morbid curiousity keeps me in tune with all the really vile things that people do to each other.
In my defense, I watch every happy story I can find, and I smile, sometimes I cry, but I always feel better.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Geez I'm Grouchy
Seriously....I am so grouchy. I did my laundry. I even mopped my floors...I'm still grouchy.
I'm grouchy because my internet sites aren't working like they should. I'm grouchy because people are stupid and as much as I tell them they are, they don't listen. So, they're still stupid.
I'm grouchy because I'm dressed in sweats and a tee shirt and yesterdays underwear and no one cares.
I'm grouchy because I have friends who are dealing with extreme pain and I can't help them.
I'm grouchy becuase if Betty was here we would discuss those friends and we would come up with a plan and we would both feel better, even if our friends didn't.
I'm grouchy because my son is grouchy because he's not being treated the way he should be. I try to help but being Mom that hardly ever helps (remember your Mom telling YOU?)
I'm just grouchy...aren't you glad you aren't here?
I'm grouchy because my internet sites aren't working like they should. I'm grouchy because people are stupid and as much as I tell them they are, they don't listen. So, they're still stupid.
I'm grouchy because I'm dressed in sweats and a tee shirt and yesterdays underwear and no one cares.
I'm grouchy because I have friends who are dealing with extreme pain and I can't help them.
I'm grouchy becuase if Betty was here we would discuss those friends and we would come up with a plan and we would both feel better, even if our friends didn't.
I'm grouchy because my son is grouchy because he's not being treated the way he should be. I try to help but being Mom that hardly ever helps (remember your Mom telling YOU?)
I'm just grouchy...aren't you glad you aren't here?
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Saturday Morning Musings
It's early, too early...but I've been up for hours. Snowplows...my arch nemisis. Just let the snow lay there for awhile you early rising, loud engine bastards. It's ok though, I like the early mornings. I watched Mr. Ed fool Wilbur into thinking he had parrot pox by covering himself in green dots with food coloring. Man that was one smart horse.....or Wilbur was mentally ill and should have been taking lithium. I'm kind of going with that second one.
I watched Joe Rogan do stand up. Do you know who Joe Rogan is? He's the guy who used to host Fear Factor. It was an old show from 2005 but this is what I do on Saturday mornings. I watch stand up because I like to start my day laughing. He's a pretty funny guy too. I never knew that. He was talking about how stupid people have no idea they're stupid. Well if anyone should know, it's him. How many people did he watch eat raw animal parts for money? I mean, come on, there are certain things you should just never put in your mouth, let alone your digestive system. I don't care how much money someone is offering me, I am not chewing on a goat penis. Which is how I know that I'm at least a few rungs above the really stupid people.
You know what I really love, the stupid criminal stories. I remember one where a girl tried to use her boyfriends ski pass. When she got caught she said she was transgender. His parents were shocked when the resort called. They had no idea their son had these issues. I had to give her credit for thinking on her feet though.
One of my favorites was about two guys that thought using a sharpie was a great way to make a disguise. I don't think they thought that through. I wonder if it ever occured to them why criminals usually stick to things like ski masks and pantyhose? It's hard to lose permanent marker when you're running down the street with a few cops chasing you. Made for some pretty embarrassing mug shots too. Not nearly as embarrassing as Nick Nolte's, but right up there.
You know, if you're going to be a criminal you really should plan ahead. If I'm going to start shoplifting or robbing banks or carjacking I'm going to make sure I'm wearing a flattering color, my hair is done and I use waterproof mascara so when I cry at the police station (you never know, sometimes crying might get you somewhere in a situation like that)..."Oh, lady, please don't cry. We hate that. Here, just give us the keys to the car, I'm sure the two kids in carseats in the back seat will be fine with a little counseling and just get the heck out of here. Oh, and don't do it again!"...but just in case crying doesn't work I don't want to look bad when I end up on TruTV's Dumb Blogs. You never know when you might meet Mr. Right.
I watched Joe Rogan do stand up. Do you know who Joe Rogan is? He's the guy who used to host Fear Factor. It was an old show from 2005 but this is what I do on Saturday mornings. I watch stand up because I like to start my day laughing. He's a pretty funny guy too. I never knew that. He was talking about how stupid people have no idea they're stupid. Well if anyone should know, it's him. How many people did he watch eat raw animal parts for money? I mean, come on, there are certain things you should just never put in your mouth, let alone your digestive system. I don't care how much money someone is offering me, I am not chewing on a goat penis. Which is how I know that I'm at least a few rungs above the really stupid people.
You know what I really love, the stupid criminal stories. I remember one where a girl tried to use her boyfriends ski pass. When she got caught she said she was transgender. His parents were shocked when the resort called. They had no idea their son had these issues. I had to give her credit for thinking on her feet though.
One of my favorites was about two guys that thought using a sharpie was a great way to make a disguise. I don't think they thought that through. I wonder if it ever occured to them why criminals usually stick to things like ski masks and pantyhose? It's hard to lose permanent marker when you're running down the street with a few cops chasing you. Made for some pretty embarrassing mug shots too. Not nearly as embarrassing as Nick Nolte's, but right up there.
You know, if you're going to be a criminal you really should plan ahead. If I'm going to start shoplifting or robbing banks or carjacking I'm going to make sure I'm wearing a flattering color, my hair is done and I use waterproof mascara so when I cry at the police station (you never know, sometimes crying might get you somewhere in a situation like that)..."Oh, lady, please don't cry. We hate that. Here, just give us the keys to the car, I'm sure the two kids in carseats in the back seat will be fine with a little counseling and just get the heck out of here. Oh, and don't do it again!"...but just in case crying doesn't work I don't want to look bad when I end up on TruTV's Dumb Blogs. You never know when you might meet Mr. Right.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Ok I'm Angry
I have a new granddaughter. A new one. This is my fourth grandchild. Ask me how many I have a relationship with. None. Not one.
I am so angry. I have a granddaughter. She's 10. She's perfect and we were close. Her Mother decided that she shouldn't know us. Ok.
I have a granddaughter, she's 2. Her Mother is deciding now if she should know us.
I have a grandson. I don't even know his name.
I have a granddaughter. She was born today.I have high hopes.
I am so sad.....
I am so angry. I have a granddaughter. She's 10. She's perfect and we were close. Her Mother decided that she shouldn't know us. Ok.
I have a granddaughter, she's 2. Her Mother is deciding now if she should know us.
I have a grandson. I don't even know his name.
I have a granddaughter. She was born today.I have high hopes.
I am so sad.....
Saturday Reflections from the Window
I love Saturday mornings. I don't have to get up, but I do...because who wants to waste a day where you don't have to go to work.
I took my car down for it's emmissions test today. I had to, it's got to be registered by next week and I've lollygagged as long as I can. I love the word lollygag. I want to lollygag all the time, but I'm not rich enough to lollygag. So I work, and on Saturdays I lollygag. Anyway, my car passed...just in case you were holding your breath waiting. Now I can lollygag.
Another one of my favorite words is plethora. I have a plethora of paperwork I need to file, but maybe I'll do that later, today I'm lollygagging.
Next week school starts. I have to take math. I think it's unfair that I have to take math. I'm 50. I have a job, bills and a checking account. I can obviously do some kind of math. Can't they just give me credit for having gotten this far without ending up on a street corner with a sign and a cup...or a short skirt and no discretion?
I've been reading the news about the tragedy in Haiti. It sure makes you count your blessings. I have a plethora of those too. I have the ability to lollygag on a Saturday, warm and secure in the apartment I pay for out of the checking account I balance with the money I make from my job. Those poor folks are living in tents and looking for their loved ones and burying them by the thousands in mass graves. No one should ever have to do that. I thank God for the ones that have survived and the kids that they have allowed to come here to the families that can keep them safe and warm and fed....so they too can lollygag on a Saturday.
I had a dream last night....about my granddaughter and her Mother. It's a long story but it made me sad. One day I'll tell that story, but not today. I have another granddaughter waiting to make her entrance into this world we live in. She should be here any day now. I'm going to focus on that.
Back to lollygagging. Have a safe, warm and happy Saturday.
I took my car down for it's emmissions test today. I had to, it's got to be registered by next week and I've lollygagged as long as I can. I love the word lollygag. I want to lollygag all the time, but I'm not rich enough to lollygag. So I work, and on Saturdays I lollygag. Anyway, my car passed...just in case you were holding your breath waiting. Now I can lollygag.
Another one of my favorite words is plethora. I have a plethora of paperwork I need to file, but maybe I'll do that later, today I'm lollygagging.
Next week school starts. I have to take math. I think it's unfair that I have to take math. I'm 50. I have a job, bills and a checking account. I can obviously do some kind of math. Can't they just give me credit for having gotten this far without ending up on a street corner with a sign and a cup...or a short skirt and no discretion?
I've been reading the news about the tragedy in Haiti. It sure makes you count your blessings. I have a plethora of those too. I have the ability to lollygag on a Saturday, warm and secure in the apartment I pay for out of the checking account I balance with the money I make from my job. Those poor folks are living in tents and looking for their loved ones and burying them by the thousands in mass graves. No one should ever have to do that. I thank God for the ones that have survived and the kids that they have allowed to come here to the families that can keep them safe and warm and fed....so they too can lollygag on a Saturday.
I had a dream last night....about my granddaughter and her Mother. It's a long story but it made me sad. One day I'll tell that story, but not today. I have another granddaughter waiting to make her entrance into this world we live in. She should be here any day now. I'm going to focus on that.
Back to lollygagging. Have a safe, warm and happy Saturday.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Loving the imperfections of others
I'm not perfect. Are you? If I died tomorrow, would I be ok with what I left? Would everyone that I loved know that I loved them?
My friend lost her son this week. He was much too young, he had so far to go. He left a son. A beautiful little boy who will grow up with stories about his Dad. No experiences.
When you give birth to these kids you don't expect it to go badly. You only want the best. Maybe you aren't the best Mother, maybe you made the wrong choices, maybe you just didn't know....you never want to hurt your kids.
I can't imagine losing one of my children. I can't imagine how I would feel. I can't inagine that anything would ever fill the hole in my heart.....
Rest In Peace Kenny, know that you were loved.
My friend lost her son this week. He was much too young, he had so far to go. He left a son. A beautiful little boy who will grow up with stories about his Dad. No experiences.
When you give birth to these kids you don't expect it to go badly. You only want the best. Maybe you aren't the best Mother, maybe you made the wrong choices, maybe you just didn't know....you never want to hurt your kids.
I can't imagine losing one of my children. I can't imagine how I would feel. I can't inagine that anything would ever fill the hole in my heart.....
Rest In Peace Kenny, know that you were loved.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Vacation Day One
Well I made it. I beat the snow by minutes. I thought I might lose the battle as I circled the airport looking for the cheap parking. I found the $13 a day park in the snow parking but couldn't find the $5 a day parking in the snow parking. A very nice German lady pointed me in the right direction.
Ticketed, through security, I got the pat down but I prefer to think of it as a mini rub down "Just a little to the left please...yeah, that's the spot."
I boarded the sardine can they like to call an aircraft & I thought I was doing ok. I was sitting by the window because I'm not picky, another woman chose the aisle seat. Ok. They announced it was a full flight & every seat would be taken. Oh the suspense. Then I saw him, the hulking 30 something guy with the legs up to my waist. I knew it was him the minute I saw him.
He made himself comfortable. Very comfortable, in his space, in my space, in the woman with the purple shirt who sat by the aisle's space. I wanted to be her so much at that moment. It took everything I had not to climb over the seat in front of me and head for one of those emergency exits over the wing.
Then he brought out the laptop, the tray came down, his knees came over and so did his elbows. I thought the warmth of his arm in my waist was a little familiar since I didn't even know his name, but it didn't seem to bother him much.
The very funny flight attendant (gotta give Southwest credit, their planes may suck eggs, but they have great help) came by to take our order. Trying to fight off a cold I ordered orange juice. When I saw the look on his face as it was passed to me over his laptop I finished that one and had another. Then I had some coffee, with cream and sugar please. I noticed his elbows moved in as he protected his keyboard. I didn't have time to order a Bloody Mary.
I ordered one at a restaurant during my layover in Phoenix. For $10.98 I got a little tomato juice, I suppose there was some vodka in there, and a stalk of wilted celery. I ordered some fries. I think they pick them up after the lunch rush at McD's. Oh well, they were ONLY $3 and they helped the Bloody Mary go down. When I dipped them in ketchup they made it seem like there really was some tomato juice in that drink.
They had the weirdest tile in that place. It was supposed to look like grass but it didn't quite measure up and I kept thinking it looked like a really big mouse pad.
The short flight from Phoenix to Albuquerque was uneventfuil, the Flight Attendants not nearly as amusing. They said that flight was completely sold out tooT, however, the center seat in my row never did get taken. I wonder if someone was doubling up in the back because they saw the look in my eyes. Hey, I could've handled it for 50 minutes.
It's good to be back in NM. I'm staying with a friend who ironically came home to frozen pipes. I hope she doesn't mind that I used some of the babies water to make my coffee this morning. Maybe later we can cruise by my place & see if I still have any of my frozen pipe arsenal left in the back room.
Ticketed, through security, I got the pat down but I prefer to think of it as a mini rub down "Just a little to the left please...yeah, that's the spot."
I boarded the sardine can they like to call an aircraft & I thought I was doing ok. I was sitting by the window because I'm not picky, another woman chose the aisle seat. Ok. They announced it was a full flight & every seat would be taken. Oh the suspense. Then I saw him, the hulking 30 something guy with the legs up to my waist. I knew it was him the minute I saw him.
He made himself comfortable. Very comfortable, in his space, in my space, in the woman with the purple shirt who sat by the aisle's space. I wanted to be her so much at that moment. It took everything I had not to climb over the seat in front of me and head for one of those emergency exits over the wing.
Then he brought out the laptop, the tray came down, his knees came over and so did his elbows. I thought the warmth of his arm in my waist was a little familiar since I didn't even know his name, but it didn't seem to bother him much.
The very funny flight attendant (gotta give Southwest credit, their planes may suck eggs, but they have great help) came by to take our order. Trying to fight off a cold I ordered orange juice. When I saw the look on his face as it was passed to me over his laptop I finished that one and had another. Then I had some coffee, with cream and sugar please. I noticed his elbows moved in as he protected his keyboard. I didn't have time to order a Bloody Mary.
I ordered one at a restaurant during my layover in Phoenix. For $10.98 I got a little tomato juice, I suppose there was some vodka in there, and a stalk of wilted celery. I ordered some fries. I think they pick them up after the lunch rush at McD's. Oh well, they were ONLY $3 and they helped the Bloody Mary go down. When I dipped them in ketchup they made it seem like there really was some tomato juice in that drink.
They had the weirdest tile in that place. It was supposed to look like grass but it didn't quite measure up and I kept thinking it looked like a really big mouse pad.
The short flight from Phoenix to Albuquerque was uneventfuil, the Flight Attendants not nearly as amusing. They said that flight was completely sold out tooT, however, the center seat in my row never did get taken. I wonder if someone was doubling up in the back because they saw the look in my eyes. Hey, I could've handled it for 50 minutes.
It's good to be back in NM. I'm staying with a friend who ironically came home to frozen pipes. I hope she doesn't mind that I used some of the babies water to make my coffee this morning. Maybe later we can cruise by my place & see if I still have any of my frozen pipe arsenal left in the back room.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Vacation!!
I'm heading out this morning, weather permitting. Going to fly home for a week and catch up with my kids and my friends and my house. I keep trying to juggle the short time I have there, I guess it will be ok. A person can only do what they can do, right?
I could've picked a better time, maybe a warmer time, but I needed to get out of here and re-group. It's been a year and a 1/2 of major changes: different jobs, new place, different climate, two different apartments, school, new friends and I feel like I need to just get back to the place where I spent over half of my life and touch base or touch down. Something to make me come back here with a new energy and a new outlook.
My bags are packed, there's not too much snow on the ground, the cold I've been trying to fend off for a week took this opportunity to settle in and take hold. I'm hoping a nice steamy shower will knock some of it loose and I won't be hacking and wheezing on the airplane. Have you ever sat next to someone like that? I have and I wanted to open a door and bail about half way through the flight. I wonder if they're going to let me take my cough drops on the plane? It would definitely be in their best interests.
Ok, I'm just about ready to head out. Of course the snow had to start again. Nothing in my life is ever easy but it's always an adventure.
See you on the flip side.
I could've picked a better time, maybe a warmer time, but I needed to get out of here and re-group. It's been a year and a 1/2 of major changes: different jobs, new place, different climate, two different apartments, school, new friends and I feel like I need to just get back to the place where I spent over half of my life and touch base or touch down. Something to make me come back here with a new energy and a new outlook.
My bags are packed, there's not too much snow on the ground, the cold I've been trying to fend off for a week took this opportunity to settle in and take hold. I'm hoping a nice steamy shower will knock some of it loose and I won't be hacking and wheezing on the airplane. Have you ever sat next to someone like that? I have and I wanted to open a door and bail about half way through the flight. I wonder if they're going to let me take my cough drops on the plane? It would definitely be in their best interests.
Ok, I'm just about ready to head out. Of course the snow had to start again. Nothing in my life is ever easy but it's always an adventure.
See you on the flip side.
Friday, January 1, 2010
January 1st, 2010
I have to practice writing 2010. I kind of like it. Its full of nice even numbers and can be divided easily by 2.
Well the new year is here. I'm a fan of new years although I've noticed they're coming closer & closer together. Is someone stealing days, maybe even weeks, from my years? When you're young it seems like everything takes so long to happen: Growing up, getting your license, your first date, turning 18 and then 21, school drags on FOREVER. Then you get to be my age and the only thing that seems far away are those days of things taking forever to happen. My oldest son turned 31 on Christmas day. 31!! I remember when I thought I was too young to date someone who was 31, now I'm the Mother of one. What the heck happened here?
The news has been weird lately. Is anyone as relieved as I am that the terrorist on flight 253 was wearing clean underwear? Wouldn't that have been embarrassing for his Mother if he hadn't. Granted, not as embarrassing as her already having to deal with the fact that her son is a psycho nut, but still. The poor woman has enough to deal with.
Did you guys read about the woman who was caught in a stolen van with a blood alcohol level of .70? Geez, after about .50 you gotta wonder how she even got the bottle to her mouth. Maybe she was having it pumped into her system intraveneously. I wonder if she had on clean underwear.
I doubt Charlie Sheen is having good holidays, but Tiger Woods should send him a thank you card for taking the focus off of him. Jon Gosselin had a break in, now they're saying it was a hoax. I'm not sure who staged the hoax but I have my ideas. Even with the threatening note stabbed into the wooden furniture he barely got a paragraph. See, Jon, that's what happens when you think you've got something you don't, mainly any kind of talent or anything interesting or redeeming to share with the rest of us.
Did you know the name Miley is increasing in popularity? Seriously folks, it wasn't her name to start with, it was baby talk for Smiley and now you're saddling your poor daughters' with that? There's a woman who will never be able to lie about her age. Besides Miley Cyrus is an odd little girl. I watched her show once and there was something about her that just gave me the heebie jeebies.
Did you see the supposed picture of JFK with the naked women on the boat? TMZ didn't have much to say once it was proven to be an old playboy photo shoot, but even if it hadn't, who didn't know that JFK liked to diddle with the sweet young things? Um, Marilyn Monroe! Hellooo!
Well that's the news for now, at least the part that caught my attention. I hope your first day of the New Year is a good one, and all those that follow just get better.
Well the new year is here. I'm a fan of new years although I've noticed they're coming closer & closer together. Is someone stealing days, maybe even weeks, from my years? When you're young it seems like everything takes so long to happen: Growing up, getting your license, your first date, turning 18 and then 21, school drags on FOREVER. Then you get to be my age and the only thing that seems far away are those days of things taking forever to happen. My oldest son turned 31 on Christmas day. 31!! I remember when I thought I was too young to date someone who was 31, now I'm the Mother of one. What the heck happened here?
The news has been weird lately. Is anyone as relieved as I am that the terrorist on flight 253 was wearing clean underwear? Wouldn't that have been embarrassing for his Mother if he hadn't. Granted, not as embarrassing as her already having to deal with the fact that her son is a psycho nut, but still. The poor woman has enough to deal with.
Did you guys read about the woman who was caught in a stolen van with a blood alcohol level of .70? Geez, after about .50 you gotta wonder how she even got the bottle to her mouth. Maybe she was having it pumped into her system intraveneously. I wonder if she had on clean underwear.
I doubt Charlie Sheen is having good holidays, but Tiger Woods should send him a thank you card for taking the focus off of him. Jon Gosselin had a break in, now they're saying it was a hoax. I'm not sure who staged the hoax but I have my ideas. Even with the threatening note stabbed into the wooden furniture he barely got a paragraph. See, Jon, that's what happens when you think you've got something you don't, mainly any kind of talent or anything interesting or redeeming to share with the rest of us.
Did you know the name Miley is increasing in popularity? Seriously folks, it wasn't her name to start with, it was baby talk for Smiley and now you're saddling your poor daughters' with that? There's a woman who will never be able to lie about her age. Besides Miley Cyrus is an odd little girl. I watched her show once and there was something about her that just gave me the heebie jeebies.
Did you see the supposed picture of JFK with the naked women on the boat? TMZ didn't have much to say once it was proven to be an old playboy photo shoot, but even if it hadn't, who didn't know that JFK liked to diddle with the sweet young things? Um, Marilyn Monroe! Hellooo!
Well that's the news for now, at least the part that caught my attention. I hope your first day of the New Year is a good one, and all those that follow just get better.
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