tree hugger

Nonsense ramblings of a troubled heart

2011-10-13T19:42:00.000-04:00

It's been awhile.
And I'm not really sure where to start but here it goes. The other day, I was watching an older t.v show (and by older, I mean late 90's, which really doesn't seem like that long ago but that's beside the point...) and the main character was at a therapist. She had just found out that her parents were splitting up. She was devastated and willing to take all of the blame for this life-changing decision her parents were making when the therapist looked at her and said, "Stop making this about you. It's their situation. You have nothing to do with it. Be there for them...and let it go."
I immediately burst into tears because I am so guilty of doing this. I'm so concerned about being empathetic towards any situation presented to me that I immediately try to make the person who's confiding in me, feel better via offering a similar situation that I've been through up to them. It doesn't matter what it is. It could be anything from almost getting in a wreck that day to having a family disagreement. I always try to find an example in order to help the person in need understand that he/she is not alone.
But is this the right thing to do?
Is it the right way to go about trying to be there for someone?
I am constantly fretting over whether or not I am being selfish. I can't seen to differentiate between being there for someone or making it about me. This is a battle that I have fought with myself for as long as I can remember. I guess this is because I'm what one might call a "fixer". I want to help. I want to make things better. Because I believe with all my heart that everyone deserves happiness and the privilege to be happy. I don't know when to let go and stand back. I feel like the times I have stepped back, so to speak, I have only brought more disappointment and more unhappiness when all I was trying to do was give the person some space to wallow in their grief, knowing full well that I couldn't possibly understand what he/she was/is going through.
I don't want to be that person who constantly says "I know" or "I understand" or "God has a plan" or whatever. Because I don't know, I don't always fully understand and I'm not so sure at times if God does indeed, have a plan.
I'm just as clueless as the next guy. And I feel like a failure.
Why?
Because, it seems, I have spent my whole life searching for a person to be there for and quite possibly to save. I have been in countless relationships (both friends and lovers) that prove this fact and though I have finally found my soul mate, it is not me who has done the saving, but me who is slowly being saved. And in realizing this simple fact, I have found that the reason I put myself into those countless situations was/is because it left me being able to focus on someone else s problems, other than my own.
But now I'm at a loss. I don't know how to focus on me and my countless issues without feeling weak and selfish. And I don't know how to care for other people anymore because I spent so long focusing all of my energy on doing just that and leaving me out of it. I lost myself in the middle of it all and it would be so easy to do it all over again.
But this time, I don't want to.
Because this time, it's me that needs to be fixed....and in all honesty...
That scares the absolute shit out of me.
What if I'm beyond fixing?
Wow. I don't think I've ever admitted that to anyone...and that includes myself.
So there you have it world. I can scream it at the top of my lungs, but would it matter? I"M SCARED!!!!
"I'm suddenly afraid and I don't know what I'm afraid of..." And I don't have anywhere like a Tiffany's to go to Holly....so where does that leave me?
I'm at a crossroads trying to balance everyone else's life with my own...and I feel like I'm suffocating because I couldn't tell any one of you the reason as to why I feel this way.
I'm trapped in my own mind of swirling conversations and I want out.
I want out so badly, I could scream. Because what right do I have to feel this way when there are so many other people in this world who suffer more than me? What right do I have to complain or cry or yell or be angry? I've survived a lot, but in retrospect it's nothing because the same ghosts continue to haunt me and I don't know how to make it better.
I just want to feel better.
That's all I want for anybody but it seems too much to ask of anyone to make it so.
Am I being too selfish or too selfless?
I guess it's a fine line.
I just don't know which way to turn anymore. Going in circles is definitely not working...so what now?
What now?

Shopping Spree!

2011-04-21T07:43:00.000-04:00

So I found out about this deal at a store, much like that of Bed, Bath and Beyond, or perhaps IKEA. You know the kind that have EVERYTHING! Well anyway, I forget the name of the store but the deal was that for one day, and one day only, customers could fill up an entire cart of merchandise and spend only one dollar.

ONE DOLLAR!

It was insane! And there was no limit on the amount of carts you had. (I had 3 so had to have my whole family come and help navigate.)

There was polka dot everything from dishes to canisters to pillows (of which I got at least one of everything:). And I found this really super cute "just married" picture frame that hangs on the wall and holds three pictures (The hanger is a layer of silver daisies...so perfect!)

I have to say that my favorite find was a pair of salt shakers in the shape of, you guessed it, COWS! (For any of you who know me well enough...that is what our kitchen is mainly accessorized with. I see any kitchen appliance, dish, ect in the shape of a cow and I go absolutely ballistic!).

I also found a plethora of blankets and some cushions all mismatched colors for our dining room chairs (to help cover up the fact that our cats use said chairs for their own personal scratching posts).

Three carts full for only three dollars.

It. Was. Amazing.

And then I woke up....

Yep. It was only a dream.

I may never know true happiness again......

Billy Joel

2011-04-02T11:04:00.003-04:00

I discovered the other day while at work that Billy Joel songs make me think of ex boyfriends.
Strange? Yes. And it's funny that I haven't made the connection until now. (Perhaps it's because our only source of music is the radio and the mindless songs that they play over and over and over again. Billy Joel may be a constant repeat, but I'll take him over Katy Perry any day.)
It's not that I don't like Billy Joel. He's no Jon Bon Jovi....but really, who is?
It's just that somehow, over the years, his songs make me think of certain people who have come and gone in my life that I really wish I could manage to never think of again.

For example, every time I hear the song Piano Man, I think of the boyfriend I had my senior year of high school.
Donald.
Now he was a rare and "special" breed of guy. He played the piano. In fact, he took lessons from his grandmother and I would often go with him to watch him practice. The annual concert was coming up and it was time for him to choose a piece to play. He chose Piano Man, at my request, because he knew I liked the song.
Now before you go on thinking that it was a sweet gesture, in the long run, it never really mattered. Plus, he had never even heard the song before he had met me, so he knew nothing about the lyrics or what it was about. (Of course this was coming from the same guy who liked Metallica's version of Turn the Page better than Bob Segar's.....Here's your sign.)
Anyway, I'm not going to get into the horrendous details of our relationship. It's over. It's done. And quite frankly, not worth repeating. I broke up with him before his big concert though and I remember him coming up to me telling me that I didn't deserve to watch his performance. I didn't really care but later found the video tape in my locker.
I watched it later that night.
Let's put it this way, it was not "sad and sweet" and he did not "know it complete".
The song has never been the same for me since.

The Longest Time used to be one of my favorite songs. And it was kinda sweet when a different ex boyfriend, Austin, left me a voicemail singing the ENTIRE song.
However, it wasn't so sweet when he later accused me of being a slut and went on a rampage about how I was a bad influence and how he knew that God was disappointed in him for being involved with me.
Perhaps "God's" voice was the one he was actually "hearing in the hall".
Sadly, the song kinda makes me cringe now. All I can hear in it is the echo of Austin's voice and the way the words he later spoke cut me to the core.
Damn you Billy Joel. Damn you!

My Life is such a true "screw you" classic. But unfortunately, it only reminds me of a time when I applied it to the people in my life that truly mattered. I was so lost and alone and the guy I was so lost and alone with at the time doesn't even deserve to have his name mentioned.
Now, when I hear this song, it only reminds me of how stupid I was for falling for the lies and it no longer remains on my playlist of loud, angry "f*** you" rock anthems.
The rolls switched from my family to the very person I thought would "save me" from whatever it was I was running from.
It's sad really.
And such a waste.
"Go ahead with your own life. Leave me alone", could not be more appropriately applied than here.

OK. So I don't hate Billy Joel. It's not his fault that I had a bad run of idiots for boyfriends. (Come to think of it, there were only a few decent ones strewn in with the idiots....)
I still love Uptown Girl and We Didn't Start the Fire. And it's not only his music that brings back the memories of "love" gone awry. (Don't even get me started on The Rascall Flatts, Guns and Roses or Jimmy Buffett....another blog for another time perhaps.)
It just goes to show how truly important music is in our lives. There are still some songs I can't really listen to because it's just too painful to remember. But there are also songs, much like the Billy Joel ones, that remind me in a good way how far I've truly come in life and love....and how very blessed and happy I am now.
So now, when I hear these songs on the radio day in and day out, I kinda smile to myself. It was all a lifetime ago. But....
It's still rock and roll to me.

Family Ties

2011-03-10T08:23:00.000-05:00

I'm not really sure what I'm going to accomplish in writing this post, however some things have been nagging at me for quite some time and I feel I need to get them out. So here it goes.

Family has always been something that is very important to me. It was only within the last few years that I realized how very important it all is. My immidiate family (aka my brother Pat and my parents) have of course had our ups and downs but all in all, we're strangely close. I think it freaks people out sometimes. My parents were the type that always kept the door open for our friends, which were always coming over and staying the night and hanging out. In fact, I can remember several times, coming home and finding a couple of friends of mine hanging out with my Dad in the living room.

I hear that this is not the norm.

One thing my brother and I didn't have regular access to was grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. In the early years, we saw all of these people 2, maybe 3 times a year. My parents would always load us up in the car and make the 6 hour + drive it took to get us there, only to spend a few days. It was a very rare occasion when they would load themselves up and make the trek our way. The older we got, the less we saw these people. I noticed in the rare incidents that I saw my cousins, that like me, they were growing up too. And I knew absolutely nothing about their lives.

I wanted to.

I have these silly visions of being the cool, older cousin. Someone that any one of them could come to to talk with or vent to when they have no one else to turn to. I see patterns in the small tid bits of information I get via facebook or myspace, that I had to live and learn from when I was their age. I want to reach out, even SCREAM out and say, don't do it! Or I understand what you're going through. But I feel llike I have no right. They know just as little about me as I do about them.

What gives me the right?

Even when I do try to connect, it almost seems unwelcome. It seems as though in all the years that have gone by, it's too late to make that reconnection.

OK. So that's not completely true. I do have one cousin who I feel I have been able to reconnect to on some level and that's something I hope continues to grow. I treasure the fact that she seems just as willing to be a part of my life as I am to be a part of hers. And that goes for her parents too (my aunt and uncle.) They have all shown the same willingness to get together more.

But others. Not so much. I find myself getting frustrated at such comments as "when are you coming to see us again?" or "the phone works both ways." You're damn right it does. And I've been trying! Where are you? What gives you the right to try and make me feel guilty for not being in touch when I feel I've gone above and beyond in the past couple of years to make you a part of my life and try to be a part of yours?

Pat and I have already lost both sets of grandparents and one set of great grandparents. And the only things I ever knew about them come from the stories that I hear on occasion. That's it. I really knew nothing about any of them and now it's too late.

I don't want it to be "too late" again. But has too much happened? Has too much time passed to try to make it work? Are we all just a little too stubborn to let go of the bitterness and awkwardness that has formed between us?

I'll admit, I still have quite a bit of angst towards a second cousin of mine who I absolutely adored while I was growing up. She didn't come to our wedding because she couldn't find a pet sitter for her dog....really? I mean I love animals and all but SERIOUSLY? How can you, only a year before, tell my boyfriend to "take care of me because I am one of your most favorite people in the world", and then turn around and not make it to one of the most important days in my life? How can you justify that? When I heard you tell him that, it made me feel so special.

Now they're just words. And they mean nothing.

Not to mention that your father sat there and moped throughout the ENTIRE reception. Every picture I see, he's scowling at the camera. Why did he even bother to come?

And that doesn't even begin to describe my anger with you guys since. It's not even worth mentioning. I have no idea where to go from here. I have no idea if it would even be worth it.

All I know is that when Daddy Bo died, both of you were there for me in ways no one else could be. So there's that.

But is it enough?

All I know is that I'm tired. I'm tired of trying with no result. I don't know what else to do. Is it a lost cause? Do any of you even feel the same way? I thought family was supposed to stick together. Should I just give up? Would you even care? Growing up, I was so envious of my friends who had all of their family so close by. And even now, they stay in touch. I have one friend who travels regularly to see her grandmother. They're so close.

I never really had that.

I'm not really sure what the next step here is....I'm not really sure what else I can do. And sadly, I'm not sure if in the end, it would even be worth it to continue trying. Not until I can, at least, get a little something back. You're right, "it does work both ways". I can't be the only one trying. I need to see something on your end too.

The ball's in your court.

Now, all I can do is wait.

Being Mary

2011-01-29T18:03:00.000-05:00

Andrew and I have "discovered" a new show on the Soap network called Being Erica. It takes place in Toronto, Canada and it's about a girl who undergoes a different type of therapy in which time travel is involved. I know. Sounds a little silly at first but think about it. Wouldn't you go back if you could? Not so much to change anything but to try to learn from it in hopes that you can move on or even change something about yourself.

Andrew asked me the other day, "What would you go back and tell your 20 year old self if you could give her advice?"

I jokingly replied, "Stay away from ass holes and bald guys." (Unfortunately both of these traits may or may not apply to the same person....)

But the truth is, I wouldn't have listened anyway. (I didn't listen to the little voices in my head that only got louder and louder the more I ignored them. It wasn't until they were screaming at me that I realized I needed to make a change.)

So anyway, the show begins with Erica having to make a list of her top 25 regrets. Then Dr. Tom sends her back in time to relive them in hopes of helping her let go.

I've always gone about life in a way that claims, I have no regrets. At least that's what I tell myself and other people when asked. The truth is, that's bull shit. OF COURSE I have regrets! I'm not going to sit here and bore you with a typed out list of my top 25, but I am going to ask you, what would you do/change if you could go back? Would you do/change anything?

What if time travel therapy were possible?

It's funny how we perceive things. Many of us go about life constantly asking ourselves, "what if?" What if I had stayed with that person? What if I had had that child? What if I had called my grandmother more? And so on and so on. We rarely get a second chance. And quite possibly, if we could go back, events might not seem quite the same as how we originally remembered or perceived them. A person might not appear quite so wonderful and we might be reminded of why we chose the path we did in the first place. But why are we so quick to forget when things start to get tricky again?

It's a constant battle. Life. We grow so much, sometimes without even realizing it. And sometimes we regress, again, without even realizing. This is when we need to get back to the core of things. Go back to the basics. Remember who we are and who we are continuing to strive to be. It's OK to get a little lost. And I think it's normal to sometimes want to go back and re-do an event in our lives. Obviously not through time travel (though that would be pretty damn nifty.) But how can we be happy with our present, if we can't let go of our past?

We all have our regrets and perhaps things we wish could change about ourselves or our lives. The main thing to keep in mind is that no matter what, we have to be true to ourselves. So that's what I'm going to strive to do on a day to day basis.

Because I am Mary, and "being Mary" is who I want to be.

Instant Karma

2011-01-28T20:17:00.000-05:00

I am a firm believer in Karma.

I think that what we do on an every day basis, good or bad, reflects on our accomplishments and failures.

However, I also believe in God, or a higher being if you will (whatever you want to call him/her.) And I believe this God has a sense of humor....sometimes a very sick sense of humor.

For instance, I feel like I'm a pretty good person. No. I'm not perfect but I do try to go about life in a manner of "do unto others as they would have done to you." But if you really sit down and think about this statement...I mean really really think, not everyone's perception of what they would do or not do is the same.

For example, when going into a restaurant or a store, I try to always be conscious of people coming in and out and therefore, I often hold the door open and offer them to go on ahead in or out of said building. This is not the case for everyone though. SOME people apparently would love to be run over while trying to leave the restaurant with their hands full and then promptly have someone allow the door to close while you are frantically trying to catch it with your foot, while balancing your food with both hands. Not to mention the fact that some people don't require the use of the words, please, thank you and excuse me.

So having this similar situation presented to me only today, it got me thinking. Did I do something recently that instituted such actions to be made? Am I being punished for something, not even realizing what I have done? Or is it something that goes way back....some random mistake that I'm still serving time for? (If you want to get really deep with this thought, I am suddenly reminded of one of my favorite Indigo Girl songs, Galileo, and the lyric that states "And you had to bring up reincarnation over a couple of beers the other night. And now I'm serving time for mistakes made by another in another lifetime." But the verdict is still not out on whether or not I believe in reincarnation. So that is perhaps another discussion for another time.)

Or is God just up there,looking down at me, having himself/herself a good laugh as I turn around only to walk, smack dab into a tree and one of its branches pokes me in the eye? Hey. It's the challenges in life that make us stronger, right?

But seriously. I do feel that if you perform a bad act, such as killing some one or robbing a bank, you do eventually get what's coming to you. But what if you don't do any of these things?Or what if you do, but you don't get caught? It brings up that ever so popular question of "why do bad things happen to good people?" It's amazing how we can so quickly judge someone for doing something bad and then when something bad happens to them, it's not a surprise because we already have the answer as to why this bad thing, whatever it is, happened to them. When something bad happens to someone good, we are only left with the question of why?

The truth is, we really don't know why anything good or bad happens to any of us. It's all based on faith and what we believe or don't believe. But no matter how you look at it, you're looking at it blindly because no one truly knows ANY of this.

But our beliefs and our faith are what get most of us through life just a little less painfully. And this is why I go about life in a manner that makes me strive to be just a little bit better. A little more kind. A little more strong when someone I love is in pain. A little more positive when someone else can't quite see the light at the end of the tunnel. And I'm grateful to say that I have so many people in my life who are there to do the same for me.

So there you have it folks.You can call it whatever you see fit. I think I'm with the Beatles though because no matter what you do, good or bad, "instant karma is going to get you", whether you believe in it or not. We might not understand it and we might often find ourselves asking each other "why?" But I guess that's just the mystery of life....For whatever reason, I guess we just aren't supposed to know all of the answers. I think that's why most of us hold on to something opposed to nothing.

Skinny Jeans

2011-01-23T07:51:00.000-05:00

Conversation between Andrew and I this past Thursday before venturing out:

Me: "Which shoes look better with these jeans?" I am adorning an Ug boot (or rather, a much cheaper, non-leather version of an Ug boot that ensures the safety of our furry friends) on one foot and on my other foot is a cute Birkenstock-type shoe (also non-leather).

Andrew looks at both feet for a second, closely observing each foot and taking in the entire outfit so as to make the right decision. (Yeah right. It took him all of 2 seconds but we were in a hurry and this was why I was asking his opinion anyway).

Andrew: "To be honest, I like the regular shoes with those jeans better than the boots."

Awesome. I love my new boots and yet have not a thing to wear with them. I secretly want to choose said boots instead of my boring "regular" shoes, but then I'll make him wonder why I asked his opinion in the first place. But I want to look cute because we never go out on a week night and I want to step it up a notch. But now I'm self conscious about the boots.

Me: Looking at the boots, "Perhaps some other time ladies."

So we went out and I didn't think anymore of it.

Then Saturday rolled along. We were going to go check out a new shopping center in town and I was getting ready. Same jeans, different shirt, so I tried both styles again in front of Andrew so as he could make the decision again. However, before giving him the chance to say anything, I run off to the bathroom to check my reflection and compare each style with my outfit. Standing on the toilet, so as to get the full effect, I sadly come to the conclusion that the shoes still look better than the boots. I come back to the couch where Andrew is still sitting, hopping on one foot as I pull the Ug off of my foot.

Me: "I think I just need to invest in a pair of skinny jeans."

Andrew: Looking a little annoyed because I always have some snide comment to add about my weight. "Boosk. You're a size 1! Those are skinny jeans!!!!"

Did I mention how much I love this man? I almost didn't have the heart to explain to him the difference between the styles. But I'm stubborn.

"No. I mean skinny jeans are the ones that are really tight and tapered at the bottom so that you can tuck them into boots easier and they don't look all puffy."

He looked a little confused for a second but then came back to life with the comment: "I like boot-cut the best." Who knew that he did actually know the difference? Guess that's what I get for not giving him credit. But now that I think about it, I guess he was right on both counts.

Technically, a size 1 should be considered "skinny jeans". Perhaps, they should think of something else to call the other ones since they indeed, come in all sizes.

Thirty, Flirty and Thriving

2011-01-22T18:37:00.000-05:00

In two months time, I will begin a brand new decade of my life. I will say goodbye to my twenties and hello to the unknown and uncharted territory of my thirties.
I'm not really sure how I feel about this. Most of me screams out "BRING. IT. ON!"
I mean, why not right? It's not as though I'm severely attached to my twenties. The first half was pretty much complete crap anyway, so why not start this new decade of my life with a big bang?
I do, however find myself having more difficulty with my identity. I am comfortable in my own skin and have grown to know and love the person I have become, but when it comes to expressing it, I'm not sure what I am still able to get away with.
I've never been a conformist so fashion and style have never necessarily been an issue for me. But I do find myself more and more often standing in front of clothes racks, holding something up and internally asking myself "am I still able to get away with this?" I still wear t-shirts with 80's movies logos on them (shirts, I might add, that kids who weren't even born in the 80's are wearing....Now they're "retro". I'm sorry. When exactly did that happen?) I still have to shop in the juniors section of department stores because I'm so small and any time I do try to venture into the "adult" section, I start to twitch. Let me just say, I've never been the cardigan and capri wearing girl so many of us are. Not that there is anything wrong with that. It's just not me. I have my own sense of style but I feel like I need to create a new look for the next 10 years of my life.
It's challenging and I'm not sure why it has become such a big deal. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I just recently bought my first couple of pairs of brand new blue jeans since I graduated from high school....thrift stores are so underrated and yes, that includes goodwill if you were wondering. And don't even get me started on the adventure I had, trying to figure out what bra size and style I am.
I try not to think about it.
I think one of my main issues is the fact that i don't tend to live my life out in order. For example, I didn't have my first drink until I was 23...no wait, maybe 26? My college years were mostly spent crammed into a small bedroom studying. And my social life has only just recently started to become a little more exciting. Maybe I'm just a late bloomer?
I remember when I was in fifth grade and my best friend at the time had just started wearing make-up and dressing more sophisticated. (Well, as "sophisticated" as any fifth grader can dress in the late eighties/early nineties. Let me also add that this was the same girl who dressed in one of my Mom's old dresses and high heels and danced with a toothbrush in front of my entire family....Enough said.) I was still in holey blue jeans and multi-colored hair ties. I remember how hurt I was when she told me I was too immature. I mean Hello! I was 10! Who isn't immature at that age?! Needless to say, once we hit middle school, we didn't remain super close.
I didn't recognize boys as anything other than stupid until about eighth grade. But I was too shy to really admit it. When I finally did reveal to my best friend (different girl) that I did indeed "like-like" somebody...she told pretty much the entire class. And that was pretty much the end of that friendship.
By ninth grade, i was ready for my first true-life boyfriend, whereas several girls in my class (and some that were even younger) were already pregnant. I waited to lose my virginity until the year I turned 22...and that was an accident.
So anyway, I'm not sure if I should approach this new time in my life differently than what I've done in the past or if I should just keep trucking along as though it were any other birthday. Everyone keeps cracking jokes about the big 3-0. So what right? It's just another number, another year. I've always said, you're only as old as you think you are. I'm just not really sure how old I am mentally....
I'm watching friends, old and new, grow up so fast. In fact, I guess that's what I've always done. Everyone has always seemed to be in such a hurry to get to this age, to grow up, to be "thirty, flirty and thriving" and yet now it seems all anyone really wants to do is slow it down. Just a little.
I'm happy that I've gone about it a bit differently. And I'm happy where I am in life right now. I'm married to the most wonderful man in the world and most importantly, he gets me. He loves me for who I am and doesn't try to change me like so many people in my past have. My family is the best any girl could ask for and I feel very fortunate at how close we are. As far as work, well, I'll put it this way, it challenges me to strive for something more in the future.
So I'll say it again 30....
Bring. It. On.
I have a whole new set of goals and dreams to reach over the course of my next 10 years and I am determined to accomplish every single on of them.
Even if it's a little out of step from everyone else.

Lists

2010-11-01T13:00:00.000-04:00

One could say I'm a total freak when it comes to making lists. I make lists for EVERYTHING! In fact, here is a list of some of the things I make lists for:

Groceries
Target
Things we hope to own one day
Chores around the house
Errands to run
Songs I would like to someday download onto my ipod
Christmas Wants
Amazon.com.....(thanks to the evil bastards who just keep recommending stuff)
Blog ideas

Needless to say, the list goes on.....hardee har har.
And before you ask, the answer is yes. I am one of those people who will write down an item on a list, even if I've already finished doing said item, just so that i can mark it off.
What?
It gives me a sense of accomplishment. PLUS! It makes me feel all gooey and happy inside.
Hey. I never said I was normal....Oh! that's an idea. I could make a list of things that make me not so normal. For example:

When I eat bite sized crackers or small candy, I have to have an even number (1 piece for each side of my mouth), otherwise I just feel unbalanced.
Before I leave the house every morning, I have to find all six pets and kiss them goodbye. And if I walk by one I've already said goodbye to and pet him/her again, I have to start all over so as not to make anyone jealous.
When watching a t.v show on DVD, I often count the minutes in my head to gauge how much longer I have before the show is over. Not because I'm bored....but because my brain has to be doing something.
Speaking of t.v, I'm obsessed over the percentage of stuff we have taped on the DVR. I like to keep it low. Heaven forbid it go above 40....at this point, my head starts to spin.
I always have a fear that I have left something on inside the house that will make it catch fire, trap the pets inside and burn everything to the ground. I can't tell you how many times I have been late somewhere because I had to turn around to make sure I hadn't left the stove on...when I hadn't even turned in on at all that day.
One would think I would put everything I need before I leave to go somewhere in the same place. But alas, I don't. And I am constantly running around the house, trying to get everything together before I leave. Andrew gets a kick out of this one because I always leave before him and he always gets out of bed to wave goodbye. He's learned that he has a few minutes to spare when I rush upstairs to tell him I'm leaving NOW and yet, I'm still not ready once he makes it downstairs to kiss me goodbye. But I like to tell myself that this is one of the many reasons why he loves me.
I like Adam Lambert. There. I said it. Happy?

I also make lists of lists I need to make. See above the first list I wrote out, if you don't believe me.
Lists are just an every day part of my life. I can't imagine what I would be like if I didn't make them. It would drive me absolutely batty. I wouldn't know what to do next. Even if I don't get everything done on a list, it still comforts me that it's there, awaiting the blessed day that it will get scratched out once it's all finished.
It's the small things in life that make me happy, and more importantly...... keep me sane.
Though the thought comes to mind, that I am anything but, after re-reading this blog.
Oh well....
I. LOVE. LISTS!

Going Through the Motions

2010-10-28T17:39:00.000-04:00

I used to want to save the world.
I can remember being 10 years old and writing poems about the troops over in Desert Storm. I've always had a "hippie heart" so to speak and I've always wanted everyone to be at peace. Somewhere or some time along my way, I seem to have lost that connection. That will to do unto others as you wish them to do unto you, or however the saying goes. But what happened?
It's not as though I don't still treat people with the respect I would want to be treated with. I still say "please" and "thank you"...and I am known to pick up random trash on the street or in the park when I'm walking the dog. But that's as far as I let it go these days. I don't make any extra effort to lend a helping hand.
I remember one time in elementary school, one of my classmates' house burned down. I was so very sad for her and I wanted to do something to make it all better. As a class, we collectively got her new clothes and shoes....and I remember asking my Mom if it would be OK if we also got her a doll. I couldn't imagine having lost all of my prized possessions. I have always been a collector of sorts, not so much for the "having" of things, but the memory behind them. For instance, I still have most of my stuffed animals that I've collected over the years as I continued to grow older. And if you were to ask me when and where I got any one of them, I could tell you. This little girl had just lost all of that. I wanted to fix it.
It's safe to say that I have always been a "fixer". There was another time when my family and I were on vacation and we all got into an enormous fight. It was horrible and all I wanted was the yelling to stop. So I came up with the idea of "going back to bed" and pretending that we were all waking up and starting a brand new day. It worked for a little while, but if I remember correctly, there was still some fighting that followed. But I didn't have the mentality then that it takes to need to talk things out to make it better. And even then...sometimes that doesn't even work.
All of my past relationships (with the exception of one or two...including my wonderful husband:) have been guys who I thought I could help. I wanted so badly to "fix" them that I never even realized (until much much later) that if a person doesn't want to change...there is nothing anyone else can do about it...no matter how much you love him. I would get so caught up in their pain, that I didn't even recognize the pain that it was causing me...and the hole that was being burned into my own heart. It's healing now...but I'm not sure if it will ever completely go away.
And that's OK. I learned from these lessons...even if I made the same mistake more than once. My whole life, I heard how you can't expect to make the same mistakes over and over again, expecting a different result. And to any outsider...or in some cases, even an insider....it would have appeared that that was exactly what I was doing. But I never looked at it that way...I just continued to hope to get a different result because I wanted to succeed. I don't take failure very lightly and I'm not one to just give up. But I finally had to choose my battles and except the fact that certain ones, I would never win.
But maybe I wasn't supposed to?
I mean I wouldn't be where I am now without the zig-zagged path I took. And I'm proud of how much I have accomplished. But now I find myself getting back to basics and wanting to gain back what I managed to lose during the time I let myself get lost in everyone else. I'm tired of feeling jaded and held back by my past experiences. I am still capable of making a difference, some kind of mark on this World...no matter how messed up it seems to be.
I often hear myself complaining about how there is never enough time, never enough money, never enough this or that. But all we have in this life is TIME. And we have to make the best out of it. I need to wake up. Stop being a zombie going through the motions and dig down deep into the heart of it....whatever "it" is.
I still do want to save the world. And this scares me. I get so caught up and involved in the things I believe in and if I fail (again)....then what?
I'm only one person. But I still have a voice. A voice, that even if only one person listens to, will scream as loud as she can just to help that one person. That would be something.
It may not be the whole world....but I guess it's a start.

Untold Stories

2010-08-26T07:48:00.000-04:00

I just finished reading one of the most endearing novels I have EVER read. Twenties Girl by Sophie Kinsella is a tale about a somewhat lost 20-something old girl named Lara Lington who gets enlightened by none other than the ghost of her recently deceased great aunt Sadie. Sadie appears as her 23 year old self and she is in search of a necklace she remembers wearing when she was the happiest in her life.
So the quest begins for Lara to find said necklace so that she can get rid of this obnoxious great aunt, who enjoys meddling in her life by screaming loudly at random people, making them do crazy things without them knowing why. The longer it takes, the more Lara finds out about Sadie and all of the untold stories that her family never knew. They become friends.
This is only a brief synopsis and I'm really not doing it any justice, but one scene in the story particularly reached out to me. It's when Lara takes a box of old Fred Astaire and Ginger Roger's movies to the nursing home in which Sadie passed away in. Her hopes in doing this are to possibly bring a smile to some of the faces who perhaps remember the first time they went to see these movies. As the nurse pops the tape in, Lara stands back and watches the faces of these people transform. Recognition hits them and a smile spreads across the face of an older man, sitting in a wheel chair in the corner. As Lara continues to watch, it's almost like they all transform into their 20 year old selves and it hits her. They are in old bodies, but they relive the happiest times of their lives day in and day out...and no one even knows or notices. They all have their own "Sadie" stories to tell.
This got me thinking, we ALL have our "Sadie stories". There is so much about my families' lives that I don't know about. Friends too. I look back and can see my great grandmother cooking us her famous macaroni and cheese while my great granddaddy sits in his ratty chair, drinking coffee out of a saucer plate. I remember the old picture of his and his brother in the army hanging on the opposite wall. And I can see so clearly the old glass coca cola bottles hanging out on the back porch in numbers. But this is all I knew. They were once my age. They lived through some of the most amazing history in the world. We read it in our history books in school, about the Great depression and World War 1 and all the wars that followed...but they LIVED it. They are a part of that history and so much more.
The same goes for my grandparents. Their lives before I came along are such a mystery to me. I remember hearing bits and pieces while growing up, but there is so much more I want to know. We take advantage of what we have when we still have it and the chance to learn more about it. But once these people are gone, their stories go with them. This perhaps explains my somewhat morbid obsession with cemeteries. There is so much history that never makes the fine print of the books we read in school.
So here is my challenge. I want to hear your story. Something or someone that you remember that has helped make you who you are. And if you don't tell it to me...please, tell it to someone. We only have so much time on this Earth and who knows where we go afterwords. The important thing is to leave something behind for those who come after you. Don't be an untold story. As miniature as you might feel in the grand making of history, you're a part of it regardless. If you want to leave your mark.....don't be an untold story.

Death in the Eyes of Lorelai

2010-07-15T11:16:00.000-04:00

This morning I woke up like I would on any typical Thursday morning. I tried to sleep in because it's my day off and, as always, was unable to. So, I got up, threw my flip flops on and took Leira for her morning walk.

Once outside, she did her typical sniff-sniff here, sniff-sniff there until she found the exact spot she wanted to urinate....decided that that spot wasn't quite good enough and then in mid squat meandered on up the sidewalk a little further. About 10 minutes (and a few false alarms) later, we were back inside and she was begging for breakfast.

I fed her and had to fight to distract the rest of the menagerie with bribes of kitty treats so that she could eat her meal in a somewhat peaceful state. All was well. All was normal. I saw Lorelai sitting in her usual patch of sun staring at what I thought was nothing. (Because it usually is...she likes to stare at things that aren't really there. Maybe a ghost?). I went over to pet her and she chirped and squinted her eyes in a happy state like she always does. That's when I saw it.

It. Was. Huge.

It. Was. Gross.

And I think.... is that a baby one beside it?.........

Me:"BOOOOOOOSKI!!!!!!!"

Andrew (in a half awakened state): "Mumble mumble mumble, what?"

Me: "There is a HUGE ass bug downstairs and it's staring at me while Lorelai is staring at it....and I think there is another one beside it and oh God! It's staring at me too and.....can you please come get it?!?!!!!.......NOW!"

I don't really get an answer, I just hear Andrew upstairs putting his pants on...(because why dispose of a nasty bug in your underwear right?) He stumbles downstairs to examine the bug. The three of us stare on.

Me. Andrew. And Lorelai.

Andrew is much braver than I am and is able to get a little closer. The bug is not moving but we think it's still alive.

Me: "What about her baby?"

Andrew: As he takes a closer look...."Um, I don't think that's her baby..."

Me: Freaking out..."Then what the hell is that?"

Then it clicks.

I look at Andrew. He looks back at me. Silently we understand. We both look at Lorelai sitting there all sweet and innocent....... guarding her prey.

She looks at us and I swear she was smiling.

It wasn't a baby bug....

It was the bugs head.

THE. BUG'S. HEAD!!!!!

Yep. My sweet little dilute calico kitty ripped the head off of said bug. Spit it out. And then sat there watching it die.....

I have no words.....

Vampires Vs. DMV...What are you more afraid of?

2010-07-15T08:17:00.002-04:00

So my wonderful sister-in-law Jenn and I FINALLY went to go see Eclipse last week. We had to wait longer than we initially wanted to because of other things going on and not being able to find the time to actually get together and go see it. But alas, the day finally came last Thursday when I got a text that went something like this: (Let me just make the point here that I am so very upset with myself for erasing all of the text messages that created the conversation that pursued once this first text was made. Therefore, some of this is a bit ad-lib, but you'll get the point:).

Jenn: "You, Me Eclipse? Tonight at 7? Come early. We'll go to Target and get candy:)."

Me: "Oooooh. Candy and Popcorn for dinner?!?"

Jenn: "That was my thought exactly."

Me: "I. Am. So. There."

Meanwhile, I go on about my day because I have several errands to run considering that, though being married finally is a super awesome experience, the process of changing one's name....is not.

First stop: the DMV.

Once there, I see that there is quite a large line ahead of me, with only one employee giving out numbers and only 2 other employees calling customers one at a time to do their business. (Really? I mean, with so many people being out of work, you would still think that the DMV would be able to round up some more employees.....I'm just saying.)

So anyway. I had only been standing there for about 5 minutes and the line had moved about a quarter of an inch within that time (Hey! I like to be positive.), when this punk-ass kid walks in, stands in line for a minimum of two seconds and exclaims: "This sucks."

He. Is. A .Genius.

And he talks to himself and sighs very loudly in my ear, which makes me want to turn around and punch him in the face. But I'm a newly, happily married woman and I want to make a point that it is possible for a single individual to wait in line at the DMV for 2 hours with a smile on her face.

So, yes. I became that person that everyone hates. You know, the one that always sees the light at the end of the tunnel, happiness and rainbows and blah blah blah. That was me on that day because I refused to let it get me down. (PLUS! I was going to see Eclipse that night with my best friend:). Extra bonus!

Speaking of which, about an hour had passed at the DMV and I was now sitting in one of those plastic chairs watching the screen in front of me, learning lots of facts about driving that I had, ahem, perhaps forgotten? I would educate you on such facts at this time, but I can't remember what they were.... However, I do remember seeing the story on Lindsy Lohan having to do jail time for skipping out on parole. (What has happened to the youth of America?) And also they showed a picture of Scarlett Johanson pumping gas....interesting stuff. Let me tell you.

I check my phone to see if I have any messages and I have three texts:

Jenn: "I am so excited!"

Jenn:"Yea vampires and shirtless werewolves."

Andrew: Vampires and Werewolves and ghosts...oh my."

I ignore Andrew's text and the fact that he is so clueless that duh! There ARE no ghosts in the Twilight saga. (He has so much to learn....). And promptly text Jenn back the ever-so grown-up expression:

Me: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"

Jenn: "I KNOW! I can't wait!!!"

Me:"Yea. Yummy werewolves with no shirts. Score!"

Jenn:" Mmmmm no shirts."

Jenn: "I mean, we will wear shirts:)."

Me: "We don't have to. Hee Hee."

Let me just interject here to explain above lesbian-type comment. It's an on-going joke that the whole reason Jenn married my brother Pat was to get close to me and because gay marriage isn't yet legal in North Carolina. It's just a joke though. Really. We aren't lesbians. Promise. So back to shirtless werewolves and sulky vampires that shimmer in the sun.

They. Are. HOT!

So the rest of my experience at the DMV wasn't very exciting. The sulky teenager (who was SO NOT hot like a sulky vampire) somehow ended up sitting two seats away from me and I would occasionally hear such comments as :"Come on! and Arrggggggg and I'm a pansy-ass white boy who can't wait patiently in line even though it's my fault I'm here because I did [insert something illegal here].....OK. Maybe not the last one but you get my point right?

Once it was finally my turn, I practically skipped to the lady and handed here my information. And.....

Nothing.

She just stared past me and started yelling across the office to the one other employee to turn her music down. Then she just stared, still not at me, but kind of above and beside me.

I continued to sit there and smile like an idiot until she finally asked me what it was I needed.

"Me: "I'm changing my name because I just got married!" (Big smile and BOUNCE!)

She said nothing, Just took my paperwork, typed in some information in the computer. When she did speak it was only to ask me for 10 bucks. I wrote her a check, still smiling and she handed me my little ticket with my new signature on it to give to the picture-taking guy. (Who, by the way, was also the guy handing out tickets to people waiting in line. Really DMV? Get your act together!) I went and sat down in another uncomfortable plastic chair, still smiling and bouncing my crossed leg back and forth, waiting for my new driver's license picture to be taken.

Then I heard something behind me.

"Arggggggggg."

Really? Could I not at least get a break from the stupid, patient-challenged teenager?

It was OK though, My name was next and even though it took 20 more minutes to be called, when I heard my new last name being spoken by someone other than family and friends, I beamed!

I went up and sat in, yet another plastic chair, smiling stupidly for what seemed like 5 minutes, while (I think?) the guy took my picture. (The reason I say "I think" is because he never actually told me when he was going to take it....)

I stood beside him waiting to see my new license with my new picture with my new name and he hands me a piece of paper with only a copy of my new signature. I looked at him blankly as he explained how my new license would come in the mail between 5-7 business days. It was at this point I had to decide whether or not I was going to continue smiling, because inside I was full of rage.

Inside Me: "You mean to tell me that I have stood here in line for 2 freaking hours beside a smelly, spoiled teenager who grumbled the whole time, reading stupid facts about driving and movie stars that I DON"T CARE about, and not even spoken to by the creepy lady at the desk over there that won't even look at me and I don't even get my license today?!?!?!!!!"

(To calm myself down, I had to "force" myself to think of hot vampires and barely of age werewolves.)

No. I didn't make a scene. But my insides were screaming. (See above.) I just took my new license (aka...little white slip of paper) and continued to practically skip out of the DMV.

So yes. I might not have that little piece of plastic with my new name and my new picture on it yet, but I can tell you one thing.....

I bet I was smiling.

Sick Days

2010-07-01T08:18:00.000-04:00

We all have them and we all feel a little bit guilty when we take them

I mean, think about it. We're calling into our place of work to let our employer know that we are taking the day off because we're not feeling well. And then we get to sit on the couch and do at least 3 out of 4 of the things I personally most LOVE to do. (i.e. Watch T.V. , read a good book, eat...if you aren't having the icky stomach poos and most importantly sleep).

I find it a little comical in some ways. Obviously, there are days when you wake up in the morning knowing full well that you aren't going to make it through the rest of the day without either passing out, coughing a lung up, or vomiting all over your co-workers, ect ect.

So why do we (and by "we" I mean the majority of us) make the actual "call in" as dramatic as we possibly can? Think about it. And be honest, if you have a cold, don't you manage a little cough or a sniffle on the phone? Or even make your voice sound all croak-y as if you are trying to sale to the person on the other end of the line that yes, you are indeed sick and not coming into work today.

Then there is the issue if you have to actually GO somewhere during said sick day because you need orange juice or cough syrup or Kleenex. Then you find yourself walking around the store in full alert by the off-chance that someone you work with might see you out and about when you're supposed to be at home in bed.

Maybe it's human nature to feel a little guilty when you take a day off to re-group. We offer ourselves excuses such as, well if I stay home today, it would be better if I went to work and got worse and then had to stay out multiple days. It's like when you go shopping and there's a HUGE sale and even though you weren't planning on buying anything, you come home with bags upon bags of stuff!

It's amazing how the human mind works. How we can convince ourselves that we feel or don't feel a certain way. Don't get me wrong. We all really do have our sick days. But admit it, sometimes they're "sick days" in that you just want to stay home and be able to grunge out and watch t.v, read a good book, eat whatever you want, and catch up on some much needed sleep.

I guess sometimes it's just easy to take advantage...or you feel like you're taking advantage when all you're really doing is trying to take care of yourself.

Or is that just another excuse?

C.O.R.P.O.R.A.T.E

2010-06-27T06:13:00.002-04:00

I would be a crappy business woman.

But before I go any further, when I look at the above title in all caps, it reminds me of the goose from Charlotte's Webb. You know the one; the snobby one that says "Double T, Double E, Double R, Double I, Double F, Double I, Double C...."

Hee. Hee. A talking goose.

But anyways. I have worked for a few corporations in my life and have abruptly decided. It. Is. Not. For. Me. I mean really? What is the point of up-selling? Don't most people go into a store or a business already knowing what they want and how much they are planning to spend? When I am asked something along the lines of "Do you want fries with that?" I want to look at the person, slap myself on the forehead and say, "Gee! Why didn't I think of that while I was ordering?" I mean come on!

The first job I ever had was at a well-known amusement park that shall remain nameless to protect the innocent. But my boss was all about Upsale! UPSale! UPSALE! The part of the park I worked in was actually a little barbeque hut. (And yes, you read me right....B.A.R.B.E.Q.U.E. .....as in dead pig...which is ironic due to the Charlotte's Web reference I made above...oh yeah. AND I'm a vegetarian....but that's beside the point.) I remember sitting in a meeting and sort-of listening to how we needed to sale more desserts, yada, yada, yada. And I couldn't help thinking to myself, "Really? You want me to ask families to spend ten bucks on a piece of crappy key lime pie just so you can get a bigger bonus at the end of the year? You pay me $5.75 and take more than half of it out of my paycheck bi-weekly to help pay rent on a 3 bedroom apartment that I live in with 5 other girls. Fuck you and your dessert. Not to mention the fact that a lot of these people save up for years to come to said amusement park and spend hundreds of dollars on tickets alone. An average meal for a 4 person household is somewhere between 20-30 bucks.....for a lousy hamburger and fries. That's one word INSANE! NO! I won't upsale your crappy dessert! If someone orders a piece of pie, that's what they get. If not. Oh well."

This job experience, though many good things came out of it, should have been my first clue that business woman? I. Am. Not.

Ironically, I later worked at Walmart...... Call me a hypocrite if you want. But when you have been out of a job for several weeks in a row, you take what you can get.

And this is what I got in short. Crappy co-workers.Crappy customers returning crappy merchandise. And crappy pay. Need. I. Say. More?

Currently, as most of you know, I am working in a veterinary office. Unfortunately, it is not privately owned. It's, yep! You guessed it, owned by a corporation who owns several hospitals all over the US. I have been working there now for 4 years and lately, I am starting to see all of these changes that seem to be revolved around making more money. Don't get me wrong, I understand that a business can't be a business without making money...but there is a line. And I feel like lately, we as employees are being asked to cross it.

I can't do that.

I won't do that.

I first and foremost do what I do because I want to make a difference somehow. I want to help animals and their people. And I don't feel like the way to do that is via raising prices and charging more for products our clients can get cheaper somewhere else. (And before you ask, yes. I do tell said clients where to get said products cheaper. Especially if they are already shelling out hundreds of dollars for their pet. In my world. It's the decent thing to do. ) I want to make my mark on this world before my time here is over....and I'm tired of stupid corporations and their mad money-making skills getting in the way of that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not all "Down with the government! Don't work for the man!" But there is a huge part of me that rather work for the underdog. I have worked for both independents and corporations and I have to say, I have much more respect for the independents. If I ever caught someone stealing at the little store I used to work at, I took it much more seriously and personally than if I saw it at Walmart...only because these people were my friends and they have worked so hard to accomplish the American Dream. I realize that all corporations start from a small business. But much like government can get, it's so easily corrupted. Where is the line drawn? How do we hold up to the humanity that most of us start out with? How do we keep from getting greedy? And more so, how do we avoid getting caught up in it all?

I don't want to be a part of it all. Even Wilbur (Yes. The pig from Charlotte's Web who need not know that I worked at a barbecue restaurant.) got tired of his fame and fortune. His biggest lesson learned was that at the end of the day, it's the small things in life that matter. Which makes me wonder? If spiders and barn yard animals get it.....

Why can't we?

Lorelai's Top 10 on TV

2010-03-27T10:48:00.002-04:00

10) Barack Obama...she loves that man.

9) Tales of Avonlea. When we were living in Pat and Jenn's spare bedroom, I would watch this show before going to sleep and she would sit at the end of my bed, little white paws curled up underneath her, and watch the screen religiously.

8) Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. ("There's something afoot at the Circle K")

7) Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. (What? She has an eclectic taste for classic movies. And Bill and Ted is definitely a classic for my generation.)

6) Where the Heart Is. During the last scene, right before they finally kiss, Lorelai came out of no where, sat directly in front of the TV screen, and stretched her paw up to touch the couple's faces. Classic. Movie watching. Moment.

5) The Closer. Actually. This is just her theme song. She grooves to the beat every time she hears it, strutting across the floor like she's Michael Jackson. I kid you not.

4) The DVD my friend Traci gave her that has the choice of chirping birds, butterflies or dragonflies floating across the screen. (She thinks they're real and I haven't the heart to tell her the truth...)

3) The mouse arrow on the computer screen, therefore making it nearly impossible for me to do anything on the computer.

2) Gilmore Girls. Need you ask why? They are her namesake.

1) The "Lorelai Show". Nope. Not Gilmore Girls again. This is the "show" of Lorelai staring lovingly at her own reflection when the TV is indeed off. Her favorite show for sure.

Why the World Doesn't Care When It's Your Birthday...

2010-03-27T10:34:00.002-04:00

1) The people you work with forget that it's your birthday until later on in the day when they claim to "make it up to you". Forget it. You screwed up. The damage is done.

2) One of your favorite epileptic patients comes in, having bloody diarrhea and the Dr. in charge thinks that she's in liver failure and not looking for a positive outcome.

3) The first thing your manager says to you is "did you change the x-ray chemicals?", reminding you of a few days ago when you got pulled into the office to be told of all the things you have been doing wrong...and making you bite your tongue when all you really want to say is, "Did you even look at the big sheet on the x-ray door that has my initials on it for the past week, therefore declaring that , yes! I checked the x-ray chemicals! Get off my back!"

4)The person you're closing with (the only other person closing that day) calls out because she has a headache...really? Take some tylonol for crying out loud!

5) Your supervisor goes home early, leaving only you and one other person to cover for the rest of the day. Happy. F***ing. Birthday. To. Me.

6) A big, mean dog still manages to beat you up and drag you across the floor....on sedatives! (How is that even possible?)

7) The dog having surgery the next day decides to bust his lip open on the cage door at 5:59 when you are scheduled to leave at 6:00, therefore making the cage look like he massacred a small animal.

8) Getting stopped by every stop-light on the way home, when all you want to do is snuggle with your fiance' and forget about everything that has just happened in your day. Your birthday.

Dramatic? Yes. But it's my party, and I'll cry if I want to.

Someone always has had a day that was worse...

2010-03-27T10:08:00.002-04:00

I was thinking about my week on my way home from work last night. My job has not been going well for the past month or so and each little thing just keeps building up more and more, making me feel like I'm about to explode.
Yesterday was bad because everyone around me seemed to be feeling the exact same way, so the lack of positive energy was making it worse. I felt like I couldn't breathe...you know, trapped and you can't get out. Being a vet tech is what I've been focusing on for the past 6 years. I'm leaning closer and closer to the idea of "I don't want to do this with the rest of my life."
I'm tired of not being recognized for the things I do accomplish . The only recognition is when I screw something up (which just seems to be a lot lately.) I'm a hard and dedicated worker and that's not me being conceited...it's just the truth. I know I have the personality that I don't gossip or complain or talk about people behind their backs...therefore everyone comes to me and I have to hear about it anyway (there's only one person there who I don't mind when she talks to me about things going on...and you know who you are:). But everyone else? I DON"T CARE!!!!! Keep it to yourself! Leave the drama at home, you're only making it worse for everyone, including yourselves so SHUT-UP already!
All this being said, I was wallowing about everything all at once when I thought about something. Apparently, there were 2 pretty major wrecks that happened yesterday afternoon on the road that I work on. One was a head on collision and the other one involved 2 pedestrians (14 year old girls) that got hit by a van...we know that one of the girls didn't make it. And here I was, pitying myself and my minuscule issues when someone else had just lost a daughter....somehow it doesn't come close to measuring up with my worries. It made me realize that no matter how hard a day I claim to have...someone else had it worse.
I'm a very lucky human being. I have the best family anyone could ask for. My parents have stood by me through thick and thin...even when they thought I was crazy. But I always had the feeling that they knew I would be OK. My brother is not only my brother, but one of my best friends and though we've had our issues in the past, I've always known he is there for me no matter what. My sister-in law is the sister I never had and I am so grateful to have her in my life. The man I'm about to marry (7 weeks from today!:) is my soul mate, best friend, shoulder to cry on, you name it...that's what he is. He's that "something missing" over all of those years of failed relationships. He's "it" whatever that means and I've never been happier. And not only am I marrying the most loving, wonderful, funny, handsome, sweetest guy in the whole wide world, I'm inheriting a wonderful family as well.....
So really. What do I have to complain about?
I'm still young. I still have goals and dreams. And my plan is to accomplish or at least try to accomplish all of them. I think the feeling I've been feeling for so long is that I have given up in the whole career department....and that is not what I do. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I'm not a quitter. So I'm not going to quit. I'm going to keep my head up high and focus on the good things in my life...because even if there isn't positive energy flowing around me where I spend the majority of my time (work), I know I'm going to come home to it and be around it where it matters the most. And knowing that is what has gotten me this far.
So bring it on life!
I'm ready for the next challenge you have in store for me.
You haven't lost me quite yet.

Constants

2010-03-10T18:26:00.002-05:00

I have a handful.
I'm not very good at staying stagnant. I like change and to move things around, whether it be in furniture or entire cities or states. I don't like feeling like I'm in a cage or as though I'm trapped. I've been like this since I was a little girl. My parents would often wake up and find that my bedroom door was closed and hear me bumping and moving things around in my room. They always knew to give me my space during such times so that i could work out my frustration on each piece of furniture finding a new "home" within my small bedroom.
In past relationships, I found myself getting antsy and dis-interested and no matter how much or how often I would try to mix things up a bit, I was never fully happy.
Because in reality, you shouldn't have to try so hard on the wrong things.
For example, liking someone.
In meeting Andrew, I learned very quickly that I not only love him, but I like him. Weird right? I mean, who knew that this was the key to what had been missing in all of those other failed relationships? It was so easy for me to fall in love and yet half the time (let's be honest...most of the time) I despised having to spend quality time with any one of those guys. They drove me crazy. Absolutely batty I tell you.
So there I was, jumping from one relationship to another in hopes of finding that something to feel the void/hole that had formed in my heart. I found myself often in search of a song on the radio that would make me cry in order to get out all of the emotion I had been holding back from everyone...including myself.
Because who cries if they're happy right?
Or rather, who seeks to cry when she feels she has no tears left?
That would be me, once upon a time.
Don't get me wrong, they weren't all assholes. I mean, some of them , their worst "crime" was only being lazy or loving me too much or trying too hard or not enough. (Then again, some were assholes...it just took me awhile to realize it...ahem 3 years.....sad? Yes. I know.)
Suddenly, it's as if this baggage has been lifted off of my shoulders. I would be lying if I said I felt no pain left from the other live(s) I have lived, but I at least feel at peace with it all now.
I have accepted that i can't change a person for the better, even though, I never realized until much later that this was what I had been trying to do. It doesn't matter how much I saw the fact that these people had something more in them than what they were offering. What mattered is that they didn't see this....and that's why we failed. You can love someone so unconditionally and yet, if he doesn't love himself, you find yourself in it alone.
And who wants that?
Now i find myself hearing those same songs that I once seeked out to hear when in need of an emotional outburst and you know what?
Nothing.
I have cried my tears for those songs and have none left to dedicate to them. The only thing I feel when hearing them now is a sadness for anyone who feels the way I once did.
Lost and alone with no where to go.
So back to my constants; the people in my life who have always mattered the most. This is what is worth holding onto.
My family, my small group of friends, and my BEST friend Andrew, who I feel has always somehow been there for me just waiting to find me at the exact right moment in our lives when we needed it the most. When all hope was almost lost. When the last twinkle of an almost burnt out candle was about to be blown out. He restored all in me that I felt had been lost.
And I'm so very happy to say that in almost 3 years time, I find myself still becoming antsy and wanting to move things around, but wanting him to be a part of it. Because he is now such a huge part of me.
The constant that will always be.

Why do I care?

2010-03-10T18:02:00.002-05:00

Something struck me the other day and I realized that this something has been with me my entire life. What is it you ask? Well, I'll tell you. It's the mere fact that I always have to feel acceptance from people. It doesn't matter who it is. I can't stand it if I feel like someone doesn't like me.
Not too strange you say. Everyone wants to be liked right? Well here's the strange twist to this feeling I have. It doesn't matter if i don't like the person or not. In fact, it's almost as if I crave for such people to like me more than I do the people I don't have a problem with.
Can. You. Say. Therapy?
But seriously. When I look back at most of the friendships I had growing up, I find myself , not feeling nostalgic, but almost as though I was cheated out of something. There was always so much drama and I always found myself getting stuck in the middle of everything. And the worst part of all of this is, that I also found myself in situations when I could have stuck up for someone, usually someone I actually cared about, and didn't because I wanted to be included and feel important.
I'm not proud of those moments.
So after thinking on this and letting it all out, I have found that I still crave such acceptance. I get along with most anyone, but there are a handful of people that I just. can't . stand. No matter how many outs or chances I give them to redeem themselves in my mind. And yet, I would be so upset if I found out that said people indeed don't like me very much either.
What. Is. That?
Does that make sense to anyone? I mean. Why should I care what they say or think about me? Why should I take the time to be offended? I doubt that they would do the same for me.
I guess what I'm getting at is that this subject makes me so sad and angry at the same time. I can't tell you how often I tried to feel accepted by someone, claiming for so long, for years, that she was my best friend. But when I look back at pictures or old videos, all I feel is heartache and ridicule and the hurt of not feeling good enough all over again. Even sadder? I made the effort to find this "friend" on facebook so that we could reconnect.
I know deep down that it doesn't matter how many times I write her or try to keep in touch with her, with no reply I might add. It doesn't matter how much I put myself out there to make an effort to re-kindle what I thought we once had. None of it matters because the only thing i am really trying to rekindle is the emotion I felt towards this person when I was 14 years old. I really did feel that we were best friends and that she treated me nicely, because at the time, that was the way I thought I was supposed to be treated, Though it wasn't nice at all. I'm permananlty scared by the arguments we had. by all of the effort it took me to try and be more like her, to feel accepted and loved by her.
but in reality, I never was.
So why is it that I am arguing with the little girl inside my head over whether or not I should keep trying? Why can't I just accept defeat and come to terms that I am lucky enough and very fortunate in the friends I have managed to make and keep over the years? Why does the haunting image of a little, teenage me keep popping up standing alone on the sidelines in a group full of people?
Why do I even care?

Wedding dress fitting x 2

2010-02-21T12:00:00.002-05:00

So I went for my second dress fitting yesterday and let me just say....so not a blast. The people at David's Bridal were very accommodating but standing still for an hour and a half turning this way and that so that they could put multiple pins in at all different angles, is not my idea of a fun time.
That being said...this was the second time I had to do this because the first time, they were unable to finish due to the fact that I'm vertically challenged.
On a side note, my stomach had been hurting all day and I was mortified at the huge possibility that while turned with my backside towards said seamstress, I was going to "pass gas" in her face. (As I was thinking about this, I also freaked out at the concept of "Oh my God! I cannot fart in my wedding dress!" )
That's just not decent.
I do have to say though that the dress is finally looking more and more like my own and I felt "preeeety".
I also loved the little girl who exclaimed "Oooooh. You're beautiful" when I walked out of the dressing room. (In that moment I inwardly proclaimed her as my new best friend.)
Also, for those of you are wondering, I managed to make it through the entire fitting without clearing the room.
Yea me!

Dream Job

2010-02-17T19:13:00.004-05:00

Is there such a thing? I have always told myself that I would never settle for anything; that if I wasn't happy, then I would find what it is that happens to be missing from my life. It seems like this works so well with everything but my job.
Don't get me wrong, for the most part, I love what I do. But there are days (many lately) that I often find myself wishing that I could be doing something else for a career. I love being part of a "master plan" in helping and doing all I can for our little, furry creatures, but it can be so trying. Sometimes, I'm not sure I have it in me anymore to remain strong on those days that are so sad; when an owner loses his pet, his friend, his companion after a 19 year relationship....it's hard to cope. Or when you hold a dying puppy, no bigger than one of my hands, and you feel it take it's last breath....these are things I have a hard time letting go of. I know that death is a fact of life, but being exposed to it so often can be such a hard burden to bare.
Sometimes, I want a job that I can leave at work and not worry about again until the next day I have to go in.
But is there such a thing?
I, unfortunately, don't think there is for me.
I have always been the type of person who becomes too involved and has a hard time accepting when I can't change something for the good. I don't think I've ever had a job where i was able to leave it once I clocked out for the night. Certain people, events, issues, pets or whatever always linger somewhere in the back of my mind and it continues to nag me until I'm sure I'm going crazy.
And it is so crazy. I mean the whole idea of work. I understand it and it's a great concept, but it takes so much out of all of us and our everyday lives. It takes us away from our home lives, our family our pets...the people we love most and work so hard for to take care of.
I see my co-workers more than I do my own family and I hate that. It doesn't seem fair or remotely make any sense. And the fact that I bring my work home with me makes it that much worse.
It's such a very thin line that's so easily crossed. You either "don't care" or let it consume you. I have yet to find that happy medium...and I don't think anyone else could ever convince me that they've found it either.
So where does that leave us?
We live in a world where what we "do" defines us. If you take a chance and step outside that stereotypical box, you are most likely to find yourself to be ridiculed and not taken seriously because it's not the "norm".
But I wonder.
What would happen if more of us took the chances that seem so "crazy" to the outside world? Even if we all failed in accomplishing them? What if more of us followed our dreams and made them a reality instead of just settling? What if we didn't give up?
Could the answers to these questions fill that empty void that so many of us feel?
I guess there is only one way to find out....
I just hope I'm brave enough to do it.

Focus

2010-02-11T11:35:00.002-05:00

Sometimes it's frustrating being me. For example, I love to write and when I'm driving or walking or in the shower or anywhere no where near a computer, I think of all of these great topics to write about. And yet, when I sit down to write about them, I can't remember any of said topics.

I am very much like that cow from that commercial. You know the one. The group of cows are running through the field and the one is exclaiming "I'm winning! I'm winning! "I'm....Ohhh! Dandelions!"

That cow would be me.

It's like I need a little elf, or oh, a little fairy, that would be better, to sit on my shoulder and tell me when to focus. Oh! She could be a cow! I wonder what she would look like? I imagine her to be teeny tiny and have a bright pick pair of butterfly wings and a magic wand shaped like a big button. She would sit on my shoulder as I sit at the computer to construct a new excellent piece of writing. Each time I try to get distracted, she would tap me on the head and say "No. No. Focus..." and Moo soothingly in my ear.

The only problem with this scenario is that I very much like, happy, pretty shiny things....much like the cow-fairy I just described. Therefore, I would most likely find myself getting distracted by her prettiness (not to mention oddness) and still unable to produce a suitable piece of work. Then I'm just stuck in the same spot I was to begin with.

Woe is me. What am I to do?

Perhaps she could be a turtle instead? Now that's something to ponder.....

Hmmmmm.....

Happy Birthday Leira Dog!

2010-02-11T10:23:00.003-05:00

Our dog Leira's birthday was last Thursday and we got her party hats and treats! (Actually, to be honest only party hats....the treats were left over from the one's she got from my parent' s at Christmas...but that's beside the point.)

We sang "Happy Birthday" and everything. Awe. I bet you are wishing that you could have witnessed such a wonderful event. Well. Never fear! I have a video.

Yes....A video.

Enjoy!

I think there is a drug raid in order...

2010-02-11T10:01:00.004-05:00

So. Tell me if you find this odd. Andrew and I live next door (not exactly right next door. It's the next set of townhouses over...and yes. Ours are cooler.) to some people who we only see on occasion. This isn't the strange part. The strange part is that we usually only see them when it's pitch black outside and they are either loading or un-loading...get this...washers and dryers in and out of their van and/or truck.

What the heck is that all about? I mean, if they're part of a company or business that does maintenance on said washers and dryers that's one thing. But I don't find this to be the case. Here's why.

There are usually at least 3 of them, 2 to help lift the heavy artillery (I mean "equipment") in and out of the truck and one that stands by, sort of watching like he's a look-out or something. (You ask how I know this? Well obviously I can see them all perfectly from my kitchen window. No worries though. They can't see me because I am very very sneaky. I could be a spy. Really. I could.) Also, why would they always do this at night? What's the big secret about an old washer or dryer? why all the hush hush? And lastly.....

OK. That's all I have. But I honestly think the two details listed above are more than enough evidence that something is awry at the townhouse next door.

I think it's drugs. I mean, think about it. Cool, dry places to store lots and lots of marijuana and/or other gross, bad habit-forming badness....WHAT ELSE COULD IT BE?!?!!!

Hmmm. Maybe I could get a job at the FBI once I expose these drug dealers for the criminals they are! Maybe I'll be on the news! And famous...and rewarded lots of money because I helped clear the streets of Raleigh via exposing a dryer full of marijuana. I can see the headlines now:

"Drug Dealers Busted By Neighbor: A Small Vet-Tech, Hippie-Type in Scrubs. The Streets of Raleigh Now Free of Gross Badness."......

Or something to that effect.

What do you think?

Letter to Pets (aka: ye ungrateful masters of the house)

2010-02-10T19:06:00.002-05:00

Dear Lorelai, Tuna, Phoebe, Leira, Dip and Bianca,

Yet again, I have some small requests/favors to ask of you at this time. Perhaps you may remember hearing some of them once (twice, maybe three) times before, but in case you forgot, I am here to remind you. So here it goes.

Considering that I already owe at least $500 in vet bills (yes. this is with my 75% discount...), please refrain from making me think that you are "sick" and causing me to spend un-needed expenses just because you are "neglected" and don't get enough attention. This means:

Lorelai: I know that you prefer a tidy litterbox and that it is "un-fit" for you to have to urinate in cat litter that has already been soiled by one of your fellow felines. This being said, I do appreciate your efforts in refraining from peeing on a pile of clothes or a blanket lying on the floor. However, the Christmas tree skirt and the rug downstairs are also off limits. If you continue to do this, it makes me feel as though you have crystals in your urine again (even though she's on special food) and then mommy gets paranoid that you are going into renal failure and that your kidneys are shot and that I am a bad pet owner for "letting" this happen. If you hate going to the vet so much, knowing full well that I am going to poke you to get a urine sample, please make sure you really are sick before I have to do go far as to take you in for the Dr. to re-examine you (again).

P.S. Though, better than a rug or a pile of clothes, urinating in the spare bathtub (and I think maybe our regular one as well...though I try not to think about it) is. not. an. option. either.

Tuna: The only medical issue you have is your asthma and that seems to be under control at this very moment. Let's. Keep. It. That. Way.

Phoebe: I know all you want in life is cake and I get that. I mean. Who doesn't? But sweetie, it just can't happen. Cake isn't for kitties. Let. It. Go. (On a side note, though it's cute when you have your spaz-attacks, running up the stairs and then persistently running around in circles, chasing your tail...it worries me and makes me think you are having a seizure. Please stop before un-needed medical attention occurs in your world for no reason what-so-ever other than the fact that your mother is a hypochondriac for her pets.)

Leira: For the love of God! Tell me where the fleas are coming from! I can't keep bleaching every blanket, carpet, pillow, piece of fabric you touch because I see one flea, freak out and therefore think the whole house is infected. Also, though I love corn chips, the fact that you occasionally smell like them kind of makes me not want mexican food for awhile. This just makes me sad. You don't want momma to be sad do you?

Dip: You too make noises at times that sound like you are having a seizure. This MRRMAH loudness/nonsense needs to stop. Especially early in the morning when all you are really trying to do is get fed. Also, so not funny when you freaked me out that time because you weren't acting like yourself and I performed blood-work on you, only to find that you are perfectly healthy. What is that all about?

Bianca: My only request from you is not health related (though this does not incline you to develop a health issue of your own). All I ask of you is to stop egging Lorelai on. I know that you two have not yet come to terms, but if either of you lands on my face again when in the midst of an argument, words will be had. (Of the four-letter variety if you know what I mean.)

I believe this is all for now. Please let me know if you have any questions/comments to provide.

Sincerely,
Momma

Random thoughts

2010-02-08T18:53:00.002-05:00

On my way home from work today, I glanced over and saw neon lights running towards me. It wasn't until a few seconds later that I realized said neon lights were attached to a runner. Therefore, making me feel stupid and also like the lazy slacker that I am.

I helped put in a cat urinary catheter this afternoon and my job was to "protrude the cat's penis." The doctor was showing me how and I got it right first try. (Yea me!) This is when my co-worker looked at me and said, "Hey! You're good at that!"....Hmmm. Not so sure how I feel about this. Perhaps I should consider another line of work? (Oops. That sounded dirty...Did. Not. Mean. That. Get your mind out of the gutter!)

The other day (again at work since this is where I spend the majority of my time...) an owner non-chalantly accused me in so many words that i "hurt" her dog because she heard him screaming. I explained to her that he didn't like his temperature being taken and she looked at me and said "Well. It sounded like someone was hurting him!" I tried to reassure her that this wasn't the case while inside I was screaming "YES! YOU CAUGHT ME! I"M A CLOSET PET BEATER!" Phew. So glad that THAT"S out in the open.

I hate loud people. More so I hate loud, DRUNK people screaming in my ear about how I should get a wedding band with at least 1 or 2 diamonds in it, then when I tell said person that I'm not interested in diamonds, she exclaims "well you could just get something plain then." ....Grrrr

Speaking of drunk people. Have you ever noticed when you are the DD that the same conversation can pass between the same 3 people at least 5 times and they will act as though it's the first time the topic has been touched? (Note to self: Next time, I. wanna. drink!)

Do you ever laugh out loud while you are alone and find yourself looking around the room guiltily as though you might get caught? Not that I do that...really. I was just curious.

I like cows.

Top 10 moments of 2009!

2010-01-21T09:47:00.005-05:00

OK. Yes. I know I'm a little late with this post but it's been a bit crazy in my world of late...It's taken me awhile to catch up after the holiday season. But here it is, what you have all been waiting for (I'm sure:),my best of best top 10 moments of 2009!

10)DVR...see #5 below. The night that my favorite show kept being interrupted by the movement of the wind outside, made our decision to finally crack down and buy the stupid DVR.
9)At our engagement party when my Mom totally struck Andrew's Dad down. It. Was. Classic. Setting: Our little townhouse where we are enjoying the company of family and friends together at last. My Mom sitting opposite from Andrew's Dad and they are all conversing of top music hits and such. Andrew's Dad claims an answer to some obscure question asked and my Mom blurts out, "NO! It was such and such...." (In all honesty, I forget what the question/answer was in relation to...but it was hilarious!). Imagine. My mother, all sweet and quiet and innocent and she just blurts out across the room that my future father-in-law is indeed wrong. And to top it all off...my future mother-in-law sides with my Mom, leaving Andrew's Dad completely and utterly alone in his (apparently_ not so infinite wisdom in old t.v. and music). Priceless. Simply priceless.
8)The love of cooking coming back full swing. I used to always associate cooking with depression. As a teenager, I would stay in the kitchen for hours baking cookies and trying out new recipes (of course never to take a bite of any of it myself). It kept me pre-occupied and calmed me somehow. For the longest time, I had a hard time re-surfacing this love of cooking and trying out new foods. But now this love is back with a vengeance and I've come up with some very good results (per Andrew:).
7)The Vampire craze. It's strange considering how afraid I was, and still am, of Dracula. I have suddenly become obsessed with "Twilight-like" stories where the heroine falls for the vampire because he's "really a nice guy". I'm not sure what this says about me but I know I"m not alone in this, due to the fact that these types of books /movies/shows, ect have been some of the top-sellers for months and months on end. I am aware that these creatures are not being true to the "originals" that Bela Legosi and Vincent Price portrayed years ago. But I think the reason behind my new obsession is the fact that I always felt a soft spot for every "monster" my daddy introduced us to as kids. Pat and I grew up watching Frankenstein, the Mummy, The Wolfman, Godzilla, ect...and I loved each and every one of these characters because they all had some sort of human aspect to them. However, Dracula was one that I never felt bad for and each time he came out lurking from inside of that creepy-ass coffin, I wanted to stake him myself. My point is that now vampires have somehow been "redeemed". There are still your nasty ones...you know, the ones that want to stalk you, lure you in, ask you to invite them in, chew on your neck and then kill you....but there are some lovers out there too. One more thing. I know I have a problem because the other day, I found myself watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer upstairs, going downstairs to watch The Vampire Diaries, and reading one of the Sookie Stockhouse novels that the HBO series True Blood is based on. (Plus, I just bought the first season of True Blood on DVD.) I am not above it all to proclaim that I do have a problem and it must be addressed. But I'm not in any hurry to do so:).
6)Dip and Bianca coming to live with us. I make this specific event as number 6, not to be mean but due to the details surrounding it. The main reason, other than that they're wonderful cats and fantastic additions to our growing family, is that I had made a promise to my grandmother that I would find a great home for them since she was no longer able to care for them herself. She passed away soon after this promise was made. I fought with it for a long time, keeping these sweet kitties at the hospital, displayed up front in hopes that someone perfect would snatch them up. We all knew what the end result would be. Andrew had already called it when he saw the look on Mama Dot's face when she asked me to take on this task. He knew at that moment that we would eventually have 5 cats. And he was right. I knew that this is what she wanted and I couldn't deny it any longer. And I swear that she speaks through them when she sees fit to do so. I can't tell you how many times I have looked at one of them and felt her presence. "Speaking" beyond the grave has been a family tradition on my Dad's side of the family for years. And I have to honestly say, I have no complaints knowing that the people who have passed on in my life, are still very much with me.
5)Glee. Hey! Don't knock it until you watch it. It's an amazing show, full of sweet, lovable characters and story-lines. Not to mention, wonderful music accompanied by spectacular dancing. I. Love. It! (In fact, I already own volume 1 and 2 soundtracks AND the first volume of Season 1!) So exciting! I know what you are thinking and the answer is No! I. Am. Not Obsessed. Really...I'm not....
4)Road trip to Colorado on a budget. (And I mean...On. A. Budget.) It was fantastic! The way the Great Out West should be seen! Completely random stops including but not limited to old movie sets, great memorials, national parks and a Huge ass statue of Jesus. I ask you....Can it really get any better than that?
3) Andrew being at my Mom and Dad's to celebrate Christmas. I can't even begin to explain how wonderful it felt to have everyone I love the most together for Christmas. It's my most favorite time of year and one of the best Christmas' I've ever had. The 6 of us felt like a family and though I know there will be many more Christmas' like this to follow, this first one, I will never forget.
2)Meeting my idol Dar Williams. Do I really have to say more? (If so...please see blog post from August 2, 2009 intitled "Heroes".
1) Obviously...it was meeting Dar Williams...no wait, I already put that as my #2.....hmmmm. What could #1 be? I can't imagine....perhaps it has something to do with the ring on my left, ring finger. EEEK!!!! I'm finally getting married:)

Things that make me go...huh?

2009-12-07T18:12:00.002-05:00

I have currently ran out of face wash and not yet made it to the store to buy more. However, I have been using my regular body wash and yet, my face seems to be clearing up better than it was when I was using my face wash twice a day. Case in point? I have spent hundreds (OK, let's be honest...hundred singular...which is pushing it) of dollars on all different kinds of face wash. And now it seems all I had to do was use the body wash I already had.....interesting.
I was walking the Leira dog this evening and was completely stunned to see that someone on my road has put up a Christmas tree that appears to be spray painted white. To make it worse, it is covered in bright neon pink and green and yellow lights. Can. You. Say. Hideous? Perhaps that is a bit harsh. Who am I to be judgmental on Christmas....but really?
Speaking of said white Christmas tree listed above...I think I spotted a menorah in the same window.....Is that allowed for the Jewish?
I don't consider myself too much of a TV watcher. In fact, I can be pretty harsh on TV shows if I don't like the pilot. And yet...I watch The Nanny religiously. What. Is. That?
No matter what I do to try to prevent it, laundry always piles up and is a never ending process. Where does it all come from? And how do I make it stop?
I have found that children under the age of 2 are not interested in the present inside the box, only the box itself and perhaps the ribbon used to decorate it therefore causing a slightly possible chance that he will be visiting the emergency room sometime in his very near future...
When decorating the tree at work last week, I knew that one of my co-workers was having a bad day. Therefore I asked her if she would like to join in the Christmas spirit. She looked at me blankly and said "I've never liked decorating Christmas trees. I let my husband and son do it this year. All I had to do was buy one of those big boxes of multicolored ornaments at Target and I'll just throw them all away at the end of the year." I can't tell you how sad this makes me.
We have a dog that has been coming to work during the day to Hospital board. He is actually going to be boarding during the entire weekend. I walked in on a conversation of one of the technicians complaining about why he is boarding all of the time. I looked at her and said "His mom is in a wheel chair and can't take care of him during the day." She looked at me and replied, "I mean I know she has MS but......".......All I have to say is REALLY?
The paper towel dispenser attacked me today and made me pull a muscle in my neck. That can't be normal, right?
The movie Stigmata. Two words. Purple. Jellies.

Horror on Glendower

2009-12-03T10:38:00.002-05:00

There are times that I don't care too much for having a vivid imagination. For example, when the power goes out, I'm home alone and I still have to get ready for work. (AKA: Having to take a shower in the dark, scary bathroom...)

I think to myself as the lights flicker to a permanent "off" (of course perfectly timed to do so as Andrew is driving himself off to work...figures), "OK. This can't be too bad right?" I grab a couple of candles and walk up the dark staircase to the bathroom.

Even during the middle of the day, it is pitch black. I try to light one candle. Burn myself in the process and have false hope in accomplishing lighting it for the first time, only to watch the minuscule flame flicker out before my very eyes.

I glance around accusingly, "OK. Did a ghost just blow out my candle for shits and giggles?"

I try another candle, burning myself yet again, but manage to keep the flame intact. I follow suit by lighting several more candles and set them all on the toilet seat. I look around.

Um. The bathroom is still pretty dark.

Damn. It.

So I go downstairs in hopes that time will make the candle light seem brighter. (Shut-up. When you're scared, any excuse to prolong the situation works in the mind of the over-imaginative.)

I sit in front of our bay window because it is the only place in the house that lets a lot of light in. I stair outside and watch the stupid workmen who are responsible for this predicament.

I silently curse them.

The. Evil. Bastards.

I look at the clock and realize I cannot wait any longer.

It is time.

I make sure (several times I might add) that the front door is locked (back door too even though we hardly ever use it. But I can't take any chances.) I begrudgingly walk back up the stairs with my dog Leira at my heels.

I silently think to myself, "well should someone decide to break in while I'm in the shower, surely my dog or at least one of our 5 cats would protect me."

I try not to think too hard over the mere fact that said dog is actually afraid of at least one of said 5 cats and that most likely my last vision before being brutally murdered via being stabbed to death, would be of my pansy-ass dog's rear end sticking out from under the bed. (I think she thinks she's an ostrich?)

Guard dog she is not.

I make it upstairs only to find that my brilliant idea of waiting for the candlelight to get brighter has back-fired.

The "lighting" is just as dull as before.

I sigh, try the light switch one last time (just in case)- nothing but darkness and mocking flames.

"Here goes." I think to myself.

As I step in the shower, I turn to find Leira and one of our cats Lorelai sitting by the door to the bathroom.

Awe. Perhaps they would protect me after all.

While in the shower, I think I hear a noise downstairs. I peer timidly out from behind the shower curtain, Lorelai and Leira are gone...

Traitors!

I pick up the pace in the shower trying not to think of the random scenarios going through my head. For example:

The noise I heard is one of the workmen I had previously seen outside. But he is not a workman. he is in disguise and he is a known rapist/murderer and I am his next victim. He stalks around my downstairs dining room after breaking the lock on the front door and peers down at something on the kitchen table.

It's a notepad and what appears to be a short story. He thinks to himself, "Ah. She's a writer. Too bad she will never be published because she will be dead soon." [insert evil laugh here].

As for his appearance, he has a mullet and a handle bar mustache, clothed in tight dark jeans and a flannel shirt that barely covers his beer gut.

He creeps up the stairs to find me.

So as you might have guessed, in thinking of all of this, I am slightly panicked. I keep peering out from the shower curtain, expecting to see said scary ass man standing there in my dark bathroom with a hatchet. In doing this over and over again, the only thing I accomplish is managing to get shampoo in my eyes and panicking even more because now I can't even see my attacker coming. I try to open my eyes more and more but the burning is too much and I am now blind.

Forget it.

I've had enough. Still soapy and wet, I turn off the faucet and grab for a towel. (This takes me a few minutes considering I still can't see...)

I wrap the towel around me and slowly pull the shower curtain back.

Silence.

There is no one there.

Whew.

But what if he's hiding behind the door and he's just waiting for me to step out of the bathroom for him to do his evil deed?

I feel so small and trapped in my little, dark bathroom.

I hear a noise. I hear footsteps. I open my mouth to scream and then....

"Chiiiiiirp meeeeeeow." says Lorelai as she struts into the bathroom and looks at my fear stricken face.

She looks at me in a way that says, "It's OK Mama. Stop freaking out."

I begin to giggle at myself. Then my giggles turn into chuckles. Now I'm boiled over with laughter and I can't seem to make myself stop.

I. Am. Delirious.

One things for sure though. If this horrid thing ever happens again. I'm going to work dirty.

It's just not worth the effort.

Squirrel or Dog? That is the question.

2009-11-19T16:42:00.003-05:00

So for those of you who don't know this already, our dog Leira's favorite toy is her stuffed squirrel. (In all reality, it is no longer stuffed because she ripped all of the fun fluffy stuff out and it is indeed flat. Plus I don't really think it's a squirrel. Perhaps it's a cat...? But at any rate, it is not really recognizable now what type of "animal" it started out as...so we just call it her squirrel.)

And because of her love for her favorite toy, when I came across a squirrel costume in target around Halloween...I couldn't resist. I mean really? What is cuter than a dog dressed as a squirrel?

Can't think of anything can you?

No?

That's what I thought.

But I have a feeling that somehow during playtime with her squirrel and dressing her up like one, Leira might...just might be a bit confused.

This thought crossed my mind the other morning when I was taking her on her walk. We were quietly frolicking along the sidewalk when I saw a squirrel running across the street. It just so happened that a car was coming very quickly down the road (because people are stupid around here and drive too fast...ahem). I glanced up at the squirrel who had chosen that precise moment to sit and investigate an acorn....IN THE STREET!

Without even thinking, I yelled "Run squirrel run!" In which at this time Leira picked up her pace to full speed and started running as fast as she could.....

The squirrel made it but by this time I had another thought brewing in my mind...did Leira perhaps think I was yelling at her to run? Does she think she's a squirrel when indeed she is not? Have I given her some kind of inter-species complex?

I looked down in the middle of my thought process because Leira had come to a full stop. She was chewing on something she had found in the grass. I began trying to pry the contents out of her mouth and alas found that the object of which she was chewing was....

An acorn....

My God. What have I done?

Bless the Southern Culture

2009-11-08T08:07:00.004-05:00

Growing up in the outskirts of Asheville, NC in Buncombe County, I learned many phrases that might seem unusual to any outsider. Upon thinking of this fact the other day, I found that many of these phrases include the word "bless". We southerners like to bless everything. Here are just a few examples:

"Bless your Heart."

"Bless him."[insert "I feel sorry for you" face here]

"Did you hear that crazy lady bless me out?" (I found that Andrew had never heard of this phrase and when I used it he looked at me like he was confused. I didn't hold it against him though...he's one of them northerners.)

"That happens too me every blessed time." (This one's a nicer way to use the word "f***".)

In church, we like to scream "Bless the Lord." a lot. But I have also found that this phrase is also used in other circumstances such as when a child does something cute or stupid. This is when your grandmother looks at you and shakes her head saying "bless the Lord you is and idiot."

And last but not least, "Bless my soul."

Let me just say, I am very blessed (ooh! that was another one!) to have grown up in a southern culture. It is part of who I am today.

Bless my little heart.

Punch bug, slow bug...it's all the same when your'e being hit by your mother.

2009-11-05T16:11:00.002-05:00

My brother and I taught our parents the rules of the game "punch buggy [insert color here] back when I was in middle school....17 years ago.

Should you ever travel in the car with my parents in this day and age, you will be forced to hear from the backseat random bits of conversation interrupted by "Blue!" or "Green" and a swift punch into the opposite person's shoulder. And as if nothing happened at all, the conversation will resume.

For example, Andrew and I went to visit my parents a couple of weekends ago and this is the conversation we were forced to listen in on.

Mom: "I'm so excited about Jackson Brown, but I haven't brought myself..."Red!" (then punches my Dad mercilessly as hard as she can) to listen to him too much because i don't want to get too excited before the concert."

Dad: "Which Carrabba's are we going to?" (There are only two in Asheville and we always go to the same one so I'm not sure why he asks this question every time we go...it will always remain a mystery to me.)

Mom turns around to look at us in the backseat and is side-swiped by Dad's ruthless punch into her right arm "Silver" he yells.

Mom: without a bit of distraction, "where do you guys want to go?"

Andrew and I just stare completely baffled at the violence that sits before us.

On a slightly different note, I can't tell you how many times I have been driving my Mom somewhere when out of nowhere she hits me and almost startles me to the point I run off the road. I stare at her in the passenger seat looking so sweet and innocent, constantly reminding her that I am not Dad and that she almost gave me a heart attack.

Mom: "Oh I'm so sorry." (But it never stops her...nope. She still does it. She claims it's because she's so used to riding in the car with Dad. But I honestly think it's her way of getting back at me for giving her such a hard time when I was a teenager.)

It should really be a form of child abuse. I can see it in the headlines now, "Punch Buggy Lavender. It's Not To Late To Seek Help Now."

It could be the next episode on "The Closer."

An episode that I could completely identify with.

Obcession: Perhaps something of an addiciton.

2009-11-05T15:56:00.002-05:00

I have a problem. That's the first step right? Getting through the denial...the denial of "I can stop any time." "I don't really need to spend the money so I'll pass." "One excuse after another until it hits....

No longer do you have enough space to put them all. No longer do you even have the extra corner to throw in another bookcase in order to place them. You're stuck and yet....you crave more.

That's right. You guessed it.

Hi. My name is Mary and I am a hoarder of books.

There, I said it. Whew. I fell so much better!

But seriously, when is enough enough? I tell myself over and over again, "Mary, there are so many books on your shelves that you haven't read...and even if you try to read 4 and 5 at a time, if you keep buying more, there is no way to catch up."

But the buying of said books continues. From classics, to memoirs, to cheesy vampire series' I tend to drift to in the "popular teen" section. (Hey! I said I have a problem. I never said I was proud of it.)

I walk into a bookstore calmly and think to myself, "I'll just browse. I don't need to buy."

But then I see a shiny new cover of an author I collect (never mind that I haven't even read one word of said author...but her covers are preeety and shiny and I find myself addicted to buying the whole series before I even glance at the first page.)

Then there are those authors I am so in love with because I have read everything they have ever written and the moment they release a new book it's like homemade brownies to a pothead.

I. Want. Them. All. (books....and brownies)

Is that really so much to ask?

Maybe I just need a bigger place to where I can put more bookshelves and therefore more books. That would solve my problem right? And then...it wouldn't be a problem anymore.

I. Am. A. GENIUS!

Ooh. I think I'll go browse on Amazon right now.

You know, just to look.

You know the one...?

2009-10-29T15:08:00.001-04:00

My brother Pat used to work at Best Buy. He would often tell me stories of customers who would come up to him and ask him if he knew where to find a certain song.

Pat: "Who's the artist?"

Customer: "What?"

Pat: "The person who sang the song you're looking for."

Long pause.

Customer: "Oh. Well I thought that was why I am asking for your help?"

Pat: "Well what's the title?"

Customer: "I don't know."

I always got a kick out of these stories and gave an extra two thumbs up to him for putting up with such idiots. My favorite stories were the ones in which the customer would start singing the song he or she was in search of.

Singing very badly.

And off key.

And not with the correct lyrics.

I would have paid money to see this.

I was thinking about these memories today when I heard a familiar song on the radio. It reminded me of when I had first heard it and how I looked over and over again for the name or the artist who sang it. Then I remembered asking Pat.

And singing it to him (not fully knowing the words).

He just looked at me and shook his head.

Me: "What?"

And now I know. He thought I was one of "those" people.

But he's wrong.

I mean, I don't count.

I'm his sister....

Am I right?

Am I?

Leira's Halloween Costume

2009-10-29T15:06:00.001-04:00

Best. Seven. Bucks. EVER. Spent!

Leira's first road trip!

2009-10-14T19:27:00.012-04:00

This past weekend, Andrew and I decided to take a little road trip up to the mountains. Since it was rather last minute and we didn't want to kennel Leira (because in all reality...she hates to be kenneled and we're suckers and hate to upset her in any way...) there was only one solution: she would have to come with us.

We were somewhat hesitant about this decision because dogs are only allowed in the cabins if you pay $150 fee. (But who wants to pay that and who likes to follow the rules? Come on people! Live dangerously!).

We're such rebels right?

Right. So our other concern was that she had never ridden in the car for longer than an hour. This was a 6 hour commute. To our surprise, this was her reaction to said 6 hour commute:

"Ma! I was sleeping!"
(She was sleeping and she looked so darn cute I had to take a picture...but I woke her up and the picture resulted in this...)

We made it to our destination around 1:30 (ish) in the morning. I went inside to retrieve the key while Andrew stayed in the car with Leira. (We. Are. So. Sneaky.)

We got to the cabin and settled in for the night. Leira (and Andrew and I) were exhausted from the drive so we went to sleep pretty quickly.

The next morning, I woke up somewhat early and took Leira out for a walk. I looked around cautiously to make sure that no employees were sneaking about and walked outside. She was so cute and so excited! She had never seen mountains before and she seemed to be so overcome by everything that was surrounding her.

Andrew got up soon after and we decided to take Leira for an even longer walk (eek! she was so elated!) We found a big field and were disappointed that we had forgotten her favorite tennis ball (though her stuffed squirrel, she never leaves the house without). We found we didn't need a ball. All we had to do was stand a generous distance apart and "pretend" that we were throwing a ball back and forth. (I never said she was a genius...) She found this game to be great fun as she ran back and forth between us. Now tell me, isn't this the happiest little mutt you've ever seen?

"Look guys! I iz faster than the wind!"

We went back to the cabin and ate some breakfast and took a nap. Then we went out again for a short hike in the Great Smokey Mountain National Park. We were walking along the path and came across this sign:

But rebels? We are! So we continued on. And Leira. Loved. It! She was so happy and so alive! Though she didn't really know what to do when she came across the rocks and the river. She gets two thumbs up for trying though:).

"What exactly do i do now guys?"

We made it through checkout the next morning without getting caught!

"I iz sneaky too right mama?!!"

In following the tradition, (my family has been going here for years) we visited the dam and took pictures in all the places we always take pictures and then we traveled home via the parkway. Let me just tell you, the Blue Ridge Parkway in the fall is one of the most beautiful places in the world to me. All of the colors and trees and mountains and fresh air.

I. Love. It!

Here's a glimpse of our experience:)

"Daddy's got belly mama!"

"Can I peez here?"

Our little family (minus the 5 cats:)

All in all I would say that Leira's first road trip to the mountains went very well. I am so proud of our little mutt. She is truly the best dog a girl could ask for.

"I iz so done."

early morning realization

2009-10-14T19:15:00.002-04:00

I woke up this morning, as I always do and I had to pee. So I got up, stumbled across the carpet, managing to only trip over one of our 5 cats and barely missing the fan that stands right in front of our bed. In the bathroom, fully unharmed, I followed normal procedure.

Suddenly, I heard something (someone?) slam into the door and a small "click". The door swayed open and in came, not one, not two, but three cats looking at me with hungry eyes and smacking lips. Tuna, Phoebe and Dip did not seem to care that i needed to take care of my bodily functions before partaking in feeding them this morning. It just was. not. acceptable.

But what could I do? I mean really. I had no way of shoving them out the door without peeing all over myself. And there the three of them sat.

Just staring.

And staring.

And staring....

OK. Creeped out by all of the staring and now wishing that I had just held it and fed them all first. But now I have a new deli-ma....I am pee shy. And all I could focus on was the 6 little beady eyes staring at me.

And that was when they decided to belt out a chorus of meows.

I love my pets but seriously? Give a girl some privacy.

I'll only say this once. You've won this battle little ones...but the war is not over.

Next time...

I'm locking the door.

Cheap Entertainment = still being broke

2009-10-08T10:07:00.011-04:00

Here are a few pictures I would like to share. Please enjoy and have a lovely day:).

"I iz hunting rabbits"

"We iz Mirror images"

"If youz leaves, I will peez."

"We iz lovers not fighters."

"I iz model too yes?"

"I iz not drunk daddy!"

"Will youz marry me too mama?"

"I wuz told there would be cake!"

Nap time + pets = No sleeping...

2009-10-07T22:10:00.003-04:00

I got sent home from work today because I wasn't feeling well and my boss didn't want me getting everyone else sick. (Understandably so...however, in all honesty, we've been all passing around the same virus for about a month now...but that's beside the point.)

I had scheduled a doctor's appointment for 3:30 and it was only noon by the time I got home. I found this to be the perfect opportunity to take a nap.

Let me just say, 3 out of our 6 pets had something else in mind.

I grabbed one of my favorite fleece blankets and fluffed my pillow just right. I snuggled down into the covers, laid my head down and breathed a sigh of pure comfort. (Other than the fact that I was coughing consistently and my nose kept running so I had to keep switching sides.)

Leira curled up on one side of me and Bianca took her position on the other side. We were all nice and comfy when Leira decided to take it upon herself and act like she was having a seizure.

She isn't epileptic.

And I still don't know what the hell she was doing. She would be lying completely still and then suddenly start rolling on her back and trying to catch her tail. (She isn't right. Bless her.)Then she would do her favorite of all favorite things when she's trying to get someone's undivided attention. She slammed her paw down on my face.

Repeatedly.

Until I finally opened my eyes after trying to initially ignore her, and told her to cut it out.

Once she finally settled in, I got my self comfortable again only to start having a severe coughing attack. This, of course got Lorelai's attention as she came out of no where. She was suddenly on the bed chirping her concerned meow and head butting my forehead to make sure I was OK.

I found this to be very sweet and had to smile. But then she froze. It seems at that moment, she came to realize that Bianca was on the bed curled up with me as well. (They are still trying to work things out...)

So there I was. Lying in between 2 cats that were staring non-blinking at each other. All I could think of was that my face was in the direct fire zone. I didn't dare move. I didn't dare breathe. (This didn't really take much effort considering my already stuffy nose.) I just prayed that somehow I would not be involved in the attack that was sure to pursue.

It was like standing in the middle of a western show down.

I. Was. Scared. Shitless.

Growls were coming from both ends. Neither would close their eyes fully due to their distrust for one another and not wanting to put their guards down.

What seemed like hours later, they finally decided the situation was OK. (Apparently my being in between them was enough distance for them to be civil. Let me just say that my face was so very grateful. So very grateful indeed.)

Ah. Now I can rest I thought to myself.

And it was about this time that Leira decided to have another spastic fit. When I opened my eyes this time, i found my cute, sweet mutt sitting there looking like Santa Claus.

How's that? You ask.

Well I'll tell you.

She had managed to find a white fur ball on the floor and thought it would be a good idea to chew on it. It was hanging from her chin just right.

Seriously?

I wrestled it out of her mouth and being too exhausted to throw it away, I stuffed it under my pillow. (I know. I know. I'm totally gross.)

It took another several minutes for everyone to settle down once again, but finally my head was resting on my super soft pillow and I was beginning to fall into a deep sleep.

And then...

My stupid phone rang.

Are you kidding me?

Of course this sent everyone running, pouncing all over me in my confused state of trying to locate where the horrid noise was coming from.

Once off the phone, they were all sitting there looking at me oh so innocently.

I couldn't be mad. They were all just too darn cute.

But next time I decide to take a nap during the middle of the day...they're all getting locked out!

What Do You Hear In These Sounds?

2009-10-04T09:44:00.002-04:00

Lately I've felt a bit off kilter. I can't really explain it but it's like I'm in a room and yet, I'm not. I find myself stuck in the middle of conversations that I have no idea what they're about. I find it hard to focus on the world going on around me and yet I also feel envious of people though I truly know nothing of their lives. I live vicariously through other peoples adventures and pictures that I view on facebook. I feel like everyone is going somewhere but me. I feel stagnant.

For some reason, I view this as a bad thing, when I know deep down it is not. Being stable is something we all strive for, both mentally and physically. I have reached this goal and still, i am lacking.

It is not that I'm ungrateful. I truly have no right to complain or argue this point. I have a loving family. I am engaged to the most wonderful man in this world. I have a beautiful home and a steady job. I have six crazy pets with the best personalities any pet owner could ask for.

So what's missing?

Sometimes i feel empty; almost zombie-like. I run through the motions of every day life with each day that greets me. I get up, take a shower, walk the dog, check my email, get ready for work, go to work, come home, fix dinner, watch t.v and go to bed. "Routine" is an understatement in the world I have let myself become a part of.

Routine is not something I want to welcome.

I lack the motivation to reach out for those long lost dreams that i have always dreamed. Small things like taking dancing lessons or a yoga class. Joining the roller derby. Marching in a protest. Going on a music festival tour. Traveling to India.

The dream I am most challenged by is that of becoming a writer. I don't wish for the fame or fortune. The only wish I hold is to be recognized and heard. It's not that I feel my thoughts, random as they may be, are worth such recognition. It's only that this has been my biggest dream for as long as I can remember. And all I am doing is continuing to put it off day by day. Through making my life so routine and not making the time to really commit.

My mind voices excuse after excuse. I'm too tired. I have no inspiration. It's been a long day. I have no time.

The only excuse my mind seems to avoid is that I'm scared.

Writing is the one inanimate thing in life I do not want to risk failing. I have held onto it for too long. If I failed....I'm not sure where I could go from there.

But the only way to risk probable failure is to try. And the only way to succeed is to try. No one ever said it would be easy.

I just need to get off my lazy ass and do it.....

You say goodbye and I say...hey! Where did you go?

2009-10-01T21:20:00.004-04:00

So I was waving goodbye to Andrew a couple of mornings ago;(Something that we do every morning, while Lorelai, Leira and Dip usually watch whoever is leaving first drive away to start their day.)

On this particular morning, Tuna was hanging out close by. I turned to wave at Andrew as he drove away...

And I hear this big BANG!

I looked all around me to try and figure out the source from which it came and saw....

Nothing.

Then, I looked up....

And this is what I discovered:

This would be Tuna....

on top of the door frame to our front door....

?????????

This is your last warning:

2009-09-30T08:40:00.002-04:00

Dear Lorelai, Tuna, Phoebe, Leira, Dip and Bianca,

I am writing (again) to remind you (again) that Andrew and I are not your slaves. You do not own this little townhouse we live in and what you demand of us is not always going to happen (even though we are suckers and usually give in).

So here is a list of things that we would like for you to work on:

1) Lorelai: I love that you have taken the position of sleeping on my head every night, but if you could please refrain from licking, biting and screaming in my ear once it's time for you to get up...that would be great. (Also...even if it's time for you to get up, this does not mean it is time for me to get up).

2) Tuna: I am so very happy that you have sucked up your pride and have begun to sleep beside me again, but if you could just keep these couple of things in mind, that would be fabulous:
-Stop licking and chewing on the bedspread. Nothing is worse than waking up to that crunchy noise of a cat's tongue on fabric and then sticking your hand in a pile of cat drool.
-Stop trying to tear things down off of the bulletin board. They are there for a reason and I would like them to stay that way.

3) Phoebe: We will not now or ever have cake to give you...so stop asking for it:).

4) Leira: It is so super sweet that you love to sleep right in between us every night. But enough is enough. When we ask you to get off the bed, we mean for you to stay off the bed. (Not to sneak back onto it when we are finally back asleep and unconscious only to wake up with your butt in our faces again.)

5) Dip and Bianca: I just have one question to ask you; You are so quiet for most of the day, where the hell did you pick up the vocal chords to scream/meow/squeak at the top of your lungs when you think it's time to eat? And then you act so sweet and innocent and loving the rest of the time. I ask you, either drop your other personality or seek help and get medication.

Thank you for your time. Much love to you all.
Mary and Andrew

Breaking News!

2009-09-26T10:58:00.002-04:00

I was just surfing the net, looking for some sweet movie quotes to somehow add to our wedding ceremony and suddenly saw at the bottom of the screen "Breaking News!"

I thought to myself, "wow, I wonder what's happened now."

And sadly, my curiosity got the better of me and I clicked the link that was quietly taunting me as I tried to ignore it gleaming in my peripheral vision.

And this is what I read:

"Breaking News! Britney Spears reveals to Leno how she lost 26 pounds!"

Really? I interrupted my wedding planning to find out this tidbit of information?

I. Am. So. Ashamed.

Stress

2009-09-21T18:54:00.002-04:00

I apparently don't cope very well with stress.

OK. That's kind of an understatement.

For example, all it takes is a stupid fax not to go through and a huge headache to set me off into a fit of mental issue tears.

OK. Not really. it actually takes a lot more than that but once it starts to build up (which is completely and utterly my fault), it just takes one small thing to throw me over the edge. And the poor fax machine and the person standing beside me when it wouldn't work got the brunt of my somewhat psychopath tendencies. (I really don't have these....or do I?...insert evil laugh here)

I started yelling and didn't even know where the voice coming out of my vocal cords was coming from. Then I looked at my co-worker who asked me if I was OK and I said "yes."

She proceeded to call me a liar and I proceeded to break into a fit of tears like an idiot. (OK Where did that come from?!?!)

Sometimes i don't even know that there is anything wrong because I am so focused on everyone and everything else that is going on around me. I don't even stop to ask myself, "Hey! how ya doin'?"

I wasn't doing as well today as I thought I was (obviously) but nothing a good cry and a good talk with an excellent friend couldn't cure.

It's moments like these (embarrassing as they may be) that I realize I am not alone in this cruel, unfair world and that i have so many people who care about me. I mean truly care. Not because they have to but because they just do. (Without me even asking them to. How awesome is that?!?!)

It's just nice to be reminded of that on occasion.

But it's nice to have some alone time to myself too (if that of course includes having 5 kitties and a dog close by to keep me company:). And I think I'm going to go partake in some Tylenol, a nice pair of comfy jammies (that are far from matching) and a good book.

Good night world. Tomorrow i shall awake with a new challenge awaiting me I'm sure, but with the new-found knowledge that it won't be awaiting me alone.

My parent's are so rock and roll

2009-09-20T10:40:00.003-04:00

So I got off from work yesterday and was checking my voice mails while driving home. I noted that my Mom had left one and as always, I slightly panicked hoping that everything was OK. While I was awaiting the automated voice to shut-up and play my mom's message, I suddenly heard this voice of pure excitement on the other end of the phone. It sounded something like this:

"Oh my God. Jackson Brown. Coming in November! Dad and I got tickets! (gleeful laughter followed). Call me back. Oh my God! Jackson Brown!!!"

I was sitting there listening, thinking to myself "Who was that?!? when I realized it was my Mom. She sounded like a little teenager going to see her favorite band. It. Was. Too. Cute.

So obviously, I called her right back, She answered:

Mom: "Hello" (giggle giggle)

Me:"Hey! How are you?"

Mom:"Good." (Jeez I could feel her smiling through the phone.)

Me:"Are you excited?"

Mom: (lots of giggling and spastic, random sentences) "Oh my God. Eek! So excited! It's Jackson Brown! 4th row tickets! Oh my God! Jackson Brown! Eeek!"

Me: "I don't think you're excited."

Mom: (laughing like I just told the best joke in the entire world). "Yeah. Dad and I went and stood in line for tickets this morning. "(How cute is that?)

Me: "From what I can tell, it sounds like you're seats are really close. Are you going to be able to handle it?"

Mom: "Hmm hmm." (shriek of giggles)

Me: "Are you sure? Because he's pretty hot."

Mom: "I know! And it's just going to be him and his acoustic guitar! (Just let me say here how completely jealous I am.)

Me: "Wow. Dad might have to pack along your breathing machine just in case." (She has sleep apnea)

Mom: (fit of giggles...I haven't heard her this excited since I told her Andrew and I are engaged. In fact...this might take the cake over that!)

We continued to talk about each others weeks and the pets and wedding stuff, blah blah blah and then we hung up the phone.

As I was walking into my house, I couldn't help thinking to myself, wow, my parents are pretty cool. They are 6o years old and going to a concert in Asheville. I can't think of very many older couples who would take the effort and time out to do this. But my parents have always been this way. Music has always been such a huge factor in their lives and they passed it on to me and my brother Pat. I can't tell you how very grateful I am to have been exposed to such artists as Bob Dylan, Pete Segar, Elvis, The Beatles, Peter, Paul and Mary, Joan Baez (the list goes on and on) at such a young age. It's so very awesome to know how cool my parents really are. And it's small moments like these that remind me, you're only as old as you think you are.

You're so Rock and Roll mom and dad! I hope you guys have a blast!

Leira's new admirer

2009-09-18T19:21:00.003-04:00

Our dog Leira is a very good sport about being the only dog in a house full of five cats. (Granted, they do seem to have an arrangement with each other to distract me while the baby gate between the litter boxes and the rest of the house is down. It is during these moments that Leira manages to sneak in and have herself a quick "protein bar"....if you catch my drift.)

Leira loves all of her furry friends but I have noticed that she's not so sure about the newest additions to our family (Dip and Bianca...the two white, alien-like cats that have taken over the joint.) She eyes them warily as they stalk through the house like each others shadow.

And the first time Dip tried to lie down beside her (granted he did just plop down practically on top of her) she jumped so high, I thought she was going to hit the ceiling fan. It was kind of sad...though I have to admit it did make me laugh that something 1/4 of her size could scare her so badly.

But she's working it out. She can now sit in the same room with them at least. And I'm so proud of my brave little mutt for facing her fears. Here is an example of how far she has come:

Dip and the Leira Dog having a bonding moment. We. Are. So. Proud! (notice how she's sitting very still...)

(Even though Leira jumped up and ran out of the room right after this picture was taken. It's progress though. Baby steps. Baby steps.)

Fall decorating

2009-09-18T19:02:00.004-04:00

I love love love the holidays! Once October finally hits and stores start putting out all of the Halloween and Christmas decorations (it's so sad how Thanksgiving gets jilted...) I get so super excited like I'm 5 years old all over again. I've always adored decorating. (I was that kid who decorated her room with paper Halloween pictures taped to the window and a set up on my dresser with the spider web stuff you can buy. I. Was. So. Cool.)

But I haven't been able to get fall decorations since then...perhaps it has to do with the fact that my mom would buy me the decorations when I was younger and I have yet to have been able to afford to buy my own since I became an adult. I'm sure she would buy me some now if I were to ask her...but I have pride people. I. Have. Pride.

But guess what guess what!?!? I bought my very first fall decoration the other day at Michaels. Hee! It's one of those cute scarecrows that you can put in your yard to greet cars as they drive by and guests as they walk into your home. I imagine that people drive by and see my little scarecrow and think to themselves "now isn't that sweet. Look at that family getting into the spirit of things. I love her! (him?...I'm not sure but I did name it Bridgett.)

I have been eying these scarecrows with their cute farmhand clothes and little bow ties and hats for nearly 3 years (I know...sad right?) and now I have one. And she is standing at the very front of our cute townhouse awaiting our next visitor. And I have to be honest....

She kind of scares me.

Every time I look out the front windows, I jump back because I see her non-moving frame standing there like she's ready to attack. Then I have to remind myself that she is not the little girl from "The Ring" planning to throw me down a well, she's my cute scarecrow named Bridget and everyone loves her and smiles when they drive by.

Right?

This is not a face I should be concerned with....even if she were real...and looked like that...like she wants to eat my soul...

Hmmm...I might have to retire her after this year....

To Do List (9/17/09)

2009-09-17T10:11:00.005-04:00

This is a list of things I should be doing today and yet, I find myself still sitting at the computer...funny how things work out right? Oh well, at least I'm writing, which I'm trying to do a little everyday. So that' s something, right?!?!

*Laundry (It's practically done...most of the clothes are clean. They've just been sitting in the hamper for almost a week....)

*Vacuuming (But I have to go to target first to get the good smelling carpet stuff so it smells nice and clean instead of like you just vacuumed....)

*Which brings me to Target
List: Rug for downstairs hallway to cover the pee-stains on the carpet (Leira kind of had a regressing period with potty training for awhile....speaking of which, she's barking at me to go out...)

*Walk the dog (OK. One thing done and checked off my list!....You didn't even know I was gone did you? I am very very sneaky...)

Target List Cont.: Bathroom cleaner
Cute pink planner for wedding details
Halloween costumes for pets(hee hee:)
Nice smelling rug stuff

* Clean bathrooms (Though I do need to go to Target first to get bathroom cleaner...see above)

* Wipe down kitchen counters

*Clean litter-boxes and sweep kitty bathroom (Yes. With 5 cats, we just GAVE them their own bathroom)

*Go through wedding stuff to see what's left to be done (Need cute pink planner...see above...and possibly wine to have on hand so that I don't start ripping my hair out from the stress?)

*Catch up on correspondence (I.E. Email Cousin Brandon to let him know can't come to housewarming party because have to work and am on call this weekend...total bummer:( ; write officiant for wedding to let know we won't be using her florist or caterer; call bridal shops to schedule appointments for trying on (or rather Jenn trying on:) bridesmaids dresses; call/email caterers and florists with questions....)

*Go to pharmacy to pick up medication and ask why co-pay went up $15 more. (What's up with that?!?!)

*Clean out car (But I'll be honest...this particular duty has been on my to-do list for the past several months. But I had 2 peoples travel in my car unexpectedly last night and was so completely embarrassed by the shape it was in that I made myself promise to clean it out today...or maybe this weekend...perhaps next Thursday when I'm off?)

*Dust, spray windows. (I think we have some pledge and windex around here somewhere...perhaps should add to list for Target.)

Target List cont. cont.: Windex
Pledge (The kind that smells like lemon...wait, do they all smell like lemon? Hmm.....something to ponder...)

OK. Well....looks like I'm going to Target and getting started with my day! Oh wait...but it's raining and I do need to take a shower....perhaps I'll read some of my book too.....I have the whole day ahead of me! Wow! Is it really almost 11?......

Top 10 Break-up songs:

2009-09-17T10:11:00.000-04:00

Here are my top 10 break-up songs. I don't usually tend to use other artists words/lyrics in my own writing, but each one of these songs has proved significance at some time during my life so I thought I would share. I will say though that I am so truly grateful that I have moved on and now am able to hear these songs in a completely different way. No more tears to cry and no more darkness to blind, but I still love this music so dearly and it will always hold a very special place in my heart.

10) Gravel- Ani Difranco

"and maybe you can keep me
from ever being happy
but you're not going to stop me
from having fun
So let's go, before I change my mind
I'll leave the luggage of all your lies behind (One of the best.lyrics.ever!)
cuz I am bigger than everything that came before
you were never very kind
and you let me way down every time
but oh, what can I say, I adore you "

9) I Will Survive- Gloria Gaynor

"It took all the strength I had
not to fall apart
kept trying hard to mend
the pieces of my broken heart
and I spent oh so many nights
just feeling sorry for myself
I used to cry
Now I hold my head up high
and you see me
somebody new
I'm not that chained up little person
still in love with you
and so you felt like dropping in
and just expect me to be free
now I'm saving all my loving
for someone who's loving me "

(Classic!)

8) Somebody More Like You- Nickle Creek

"I hope you finally find someone
Someone that you trust
And give him everything
I hope you meet someone your height
So you can see eye-to-eye
With someone as small as you"

(Shot Down! SO there!!)

7) Do You Sleep- Lisa Loeb

"you kick my foot under the table,
i kick you back;
i can't say i'm able to
stand for you or
fall for you ever again.
wish for a perfect setting?
wishing that i am letting you
take me where you want me (Forget it buddy.)
all over again?
you can't give yourself absolutely to someone else."

i don't know, and i don't care
if i ever will see you again.
i don't know, and i don't care
if i ever will be there." (Been there. Done that. Not turning back ever again.)

6) Monkeywrench- Foo Fighters

"One last thing before I quit
I never wanted any more than I could fit
Into my head I still remember every single word
You said and all the shit that somehow came along with it
Still there's one thing that comforts me since I was
Always caged and now I'm free"

(For those of you who know me well, you know that every time I hear this song I turn it up as loud as the stereo will go and scream at the top of my lungs...especially during this part. My favorite!)

5) Landed- Ben Folds

"Till I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's bye-bye, goodbye, I tried
And I twisted it wrong just to make it right (So true. So true.)
Had to leave myself behind
I've been flying high all night
So come pick me up...I've landed

If you wrote me off I'd understand it
Because I've been on some other planet
So come pick me up... (And you were all waiting to pick me up...when I probably didn't deserve it at the time...thank you...)
I've landed" (And my feet are firm on the ground!)

4) Positively 4th Street- Bob Dylan

"I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you

Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You'd know what a drag it is
To see you" (Ahem...)

(As my mom would say, "This is the greatest put down song ever!" And I have to say I agree:)Love me some Dylan!)

3) Springstreet- Dar Williams

"This year April had a blizzard
Just to show she did not care
And the new dead leaves
They made the trees look like children with gray hair
But I'll push myself up through the dirt
And shake my petals free
I'm resolved to being born
And so resigned to bravery"

(I love love love any analogy that involves a tree. Dar Williams, you are the love of my life...except for Andrew of course:)

2) If It Weren't For You- Stacey Earle

"Oh where would I be if it weren't for you
I guess I'd have nothing so how could I lose
So from you I'll take nothing, no nothing at all
With nothing to stop me, it's right down the hall

I'll reach for the knob then I'll
walk through the door (And it was the best thing I ever did in my life.)
And I will feel nothing for you anymore
And if you see someone that you never knew
That's where I'd be if it weren't for you" (So I guess I do have something to thank you for....dumb-ass)

1) Taught Me Well- Alice Peacock

"You hate to be ignored
Or maybe you're just bored
So I opened up my mail and there's a note from you
You say you're checkin' in
To see how I have been
Hey I'm doing so much better if you'd like to know the truth
You taught me well
You were my teacher and I thank you
For the hell you put me through I'm very grateful
Cuz ' I finally really learned what was important
In my life
And I thank my lucky stars everyday I'm not your wife
You're selfishly absorbed
You're childish and a bore
And I used to hold the anger in my stomach like a fist
But in time it was quite clear
That only I was suffering here
And having gratitude for you was the way out of this
[Chorus]
You taught me well...that life is for living
It's not about taking, it's all about giving
You taught me well that sometimes what we
Want is staring us right in the face
And the power of forgiveness, the power of
Grace...of Grace"

(So I posted this whole song because it was like Ms. Peacock wrote it specifically for me. This song served as my theme for quite some time. And I will never forget the meaning it holds for me...)

Annoyance....

2009-09-16T07:52:00.002-04:00

Here are a few things that have already annoyed me today.....(And I've only been up for about half an hour)

1) I'm almost out of shampoo (one more thing to add to the shopping list for tomorrow)

2) It smells like something died in the cat's bathroom where we keep the litter boxes (apparently someone's breakfast DID NOT agree with them)

3) Leira and I almost got plummeted by, not one but 2, cars this morning when I was walking her...I swear if someone hits my dog, I will kill them....

4) I have to leave for work in 14 minutes and my head hurts.

5) My head hurts (And I mean it's pounding!)

6) It's raining and I would rather spend the day reading a good book snuggled up on the couch than going to work and feeling more and more like an outcast and getting beat up by big dogs and mean cats. (I'm not bitter....I just need a loooooooooooong break)

7)My face looks disgusting...no really, you would think that I'm a 13 year old with all the acne I have accumulated from stress.

8) Oh yeah I had a really bad dream that I would rather not share (but it was one of those that made me wake up mad and hurt and like I wanted to punch somebody)

OK. I'm done. I truly am thankful for having a job and a home and our pets and Andrew and family and friends. I'm really not as depressed as I may sound. Just need a break....but tomorrow is my day off and I can look forward to that today:). So that's a plus. Yay for Thursdays! Perhaps I won't encounter any more annoying things....? We'll see:).

Death via baseball bat

2009-09-13T08:56:00.002-04:00

For weeks on end we would hear the constant beeping of our old x-ray processor at work. And we always threatened once we finally got a new one that we would have our revenge...our "Office Space moment" if you will.

I am happy to say that the day has come and this is me....taking all of my frustrations out on an x-ray machine....

via baseball bat.

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=743509585&ref=name

In other words, I may be small and peaceful, but piss me off enough and this could be you. Consider yourself warned and have a lovely day:).

Creepy spider come what may

2009-09-12T09:46:00.002-04:00

I love nature and all living things. Let me rephrase...I respect nature and all living things. (Bugs and snakes are fine as long as they stay away from me and mind their own business.)

I don't even kill bugs. I'm known for setting them free back into the wild at work. (Yes, I am one of those people who can strategically place a sheet of paper under a bug and throw a cup on top to carry it outside....though if someone else offers to do it...I don't decline such generosity.)

All this being said, there has been this spider outside of our house in front of our front door for the past 4 days. She is big. She is scary. And I am determined that she is planning to cease our existence as we know it.

When I come home, she stares at me.

When I take Leira outside for a walk, she waits.

She sits still in her web but I know she is watching my every move, and trying to figure out the best way to stun me and spin me into her web.

When I close my eyes, I can see her.

I can't sleep in fear that she might kill me when my defenses are down.

Here's the thing, it's going to be me or you Charlotte, and it's not going to be me.

I heard Andrew going outside last night and I warned him of our leery intruder. When he saw her he simply said, "Oh my God! That's a huge ass spider!"

"Yes. Yes it is."

Five minutes later he was out there with his big can of Raid. Spray spray spray. Die spider die! (Though he did inform me that he just sprayed her web in hopes that she would take it as a warning and flee.)

When I woke up this morning and looked out the window, she was gone.

I hate to tell you Wilbur, but Charlotte is dead.....

Maintenance

2009-09-12T09:45:00.000-04:00

JESUS is here and he's mowing our lawn!!!!

No really. Our maintenance guy is named Jesus and he's doing just that.

Just wanted to share.

Have a lovely day.

Wedding planning reunited

2009-09-12T09:05:00.002-04:00

Beware all of you vendors, this is your last warning. I am back on the right path and NO ONE, I repeat NO ONE will stand in my way!!!!! (insert evil laugh here).

I am organized. (or at least I will be when I buy a cute, little...perhaps pink? wedding planner to write all of my lists and information in)

I am energized. (well, sort of. I am still suffering from getting back into the swing of things after traveling so much... but I'm almost there!)

I am prepared. (Now where did I put that magazine clipping with the cute toasting flutes?)

I am focused. (Wait...where was I?)

I am dedicated. (Weddings are preeeety:)

I am creative. (I can so make all of the bouquets and programs...really. I can do this. I printed out directions and everything.)

And I have Super Matron of Honor Woman! (That's right bitches. Beware! She had a wedding. She knows what to look out for. And most of my past boyfriends feared her...and still do if they're smart. Don't. Mess. With. Her.)

Most importantly, I'm in love. (And that is the most driving motivation I could have.)

Most beautiful, perfect, wonderful wedding!!!! Here we come!!!!

Cheap

2009-09-12T08:49:00.002-04:00

In this economy, Andrew and I have fond many cheap ways to entertain ourselves. (But in all honesty, we would do these things anyway because we're homebodies and rather stay in than make the effort to look decent and go out into public....)

I would have to say that the most fun source of entertainment we have found is that of "talking" for our 6 pets. (I have mentioned this before. They all have their own individual voices with the exception of Tuna who goes back and forth between being a mute and a British sailor...)

So last night I was starting to walk up the stairs and Andrew was about to take Leira out for her last pee for the night when I looked up and saw Bianca staring down at me.

I have to be honest here...this kind of freaked me out. Both her and Dip have these little alien faces that aren't at all cat-like and when they look at you a certain way, it's almost like they are staring through your soul. (I can't tell you how many times I've almost peed my pants waking up and finding the two of them staring at me like they were going to eat my brain or something....freaky).

So Andrew started talking in Bianca's alien pod-person voice.

"Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you."

And sadly, I always find myself answering our pets though I am aware that it is not them really talking...(No really. I do do this. I found myself standing in the laundry room with the door shut one day and Andrew was talking to me with Lorelai's voice on the other side of the door. I swear to you that I stood there and had a five minute conversation with my cat about dolphins....When I opened the door and looked at Andrew, I just said one thing: "Speak to no one of this.")

"I'm not afraid of you Bianca. Why are you staring at me though?"

"I want to ask you a question."

"OK. Go for it."

Silence. And yet the staring continues.

I have at this point become distracted and start walking further upstairs only to find Lorelai standing directly behind Bianca staring at me as well. I burst out laughing because it looked as though Lorelai was holding Bianca at gun point making her "say" what Lorelai wanted her to....

So Andrew of course plays along and in Lorelai's voice says, "Now say this....hee hee hee" (Lorelai kind of has a possessed laugh....)

I. Was. Hysterical.

Seriously. I was laughing so hard I almost fell down the stairs.

This is why we work. He gets me and I love him all the more for it.

Morning play with the pets

2009-09-12T08:44:00.003-04:00

This morning, I walked upstairs to find Andrew swaying an old pajama pants string in front of Dip, Lorelai and Tuna. They were all going to town (especially Tuna:) and trying to catch it. Then suddenly, Leira came out of no where and caught the string!!! (Yes...the dog....not one of our 5 cats....but the dog...).

She began running around in circles with said string in her mouth and looked longingly at Tuna to start playing with her. She would grab the string and thrust the other end in Tuna's face. Then look at us like "Why isn't he playing with me?!?!"

Perhaps Leira it's because you are 40 pounds and you almost jumped on top of him in your excitement over a pants string.

We need to talk. You aren't a cat.....

But I haven't the heart to truly tell her that she is not one of her 5, little furry friends, but that she is indeed a dog.

Do you think they have therapy for this sort of thing?

Refrigerator

2009-09-12T08:40:00.001-04:00

I opened our refrigerator door this morning and this is what I found:

1) 8 oz carton of 2% organic milk

2) Beer

3) Wine

4) 1/2 a tomato (we can't keep them on the counter because Tuna will eat them...yes, he's a freak)

5) 1/2 bag of shredded cheese that may or may not have reached the moldy stage....it was too early this morning for me to risk looking

6) 4 jars of salsa..... (Yes 4...why do I keep buying salsa?!?!!! What is up with that?)

Needless to say, I don't think even Rachael Ray could make a wholesome meal out of these ingredients....we really should go to the grocery store today

It amazes me...

2009-09-11T18:57:00.002-04:00

The story you are about to read is true, though the names have been changed (other than my own) to protect the stupid....

So I was making some call backs yesterday (i.e: getting progress reports on patients seen in the last week or so, etc) and I called an owner who had come in last week with a new shelter puppy. (We currently have an agreement with the Wake County shelter for those owners who adopt and bring in their new pet within 5 days. The first exam is always free as long as the pet is brought in within that time period and there are several other things included in the agreement as well. Unfortunately, a lot of times, new owners think that it is ALL going to be free...for the rest of their new pet's life and so on. So we have to explain that this is not the case. This is important "need to know information" for the story ahead.)

So i call the owner, from here on known as Mr. Dumb-ass, and he picks up the phone:

"Yeah."

"Hi! This is Mary over at __________ Animal Hospital and I was just calling to check in on Haley to see how she is doing since her visit here last week."

Long pause. "Yeah...well she's been vomiting, let's see...Monday....Tuesday...and also Wednesday." Another long pause (And I'm thinking in my head...but it's Thursday? Why the hell haven't you called us back?)

"Oh. Well how is she doing otherwise? Is she eating and drinking OK? How is her attitude?"

"Her what?"

"How has she been acting?"

"Oh. She's fine. She's just been vomiting some yellow stuff. And she's been eating except she hasn't eaten anything today."

"OK. Well I would definitely recommend that you have her seen if she continues to have the vomiting and a decrease in appetite."

Long Pause.

"Hello?"

"So....Why would I need to bring her in again?"

This was a moment where I carried a small pause. (Is he being serious? Am I being recorded?)

"Well sir. Since she has been vomiting for several days, she probably doesn't feel very well and should therefore be seen by a doctor." (AKA How would you feel if you had been vomiting for 3 whole days Mr Dumb-ass?!?!!!)

"Oh. Well if I brought her in, would it be covered under that whole shelter agreement thing?"

"Unfortunately, no sir it would not." (Meaning: Yea for you for adopting a new dog and saving it from a shelter life or early euthanasia...but just because you paid your $50 doesn't not mean that this pet is going to cost you nothing for the rest of her life!)

"Why?"

"Because she didn't come to you vomiting. If she had come to you with that particular issue, then yes, the treatment would be covered."

"Oh. Well she didn't start the vomiting until you guys gave her that medication." (Wow. This would have been some good information to have 5 minutes ago...)

"Oh. Well I apologize sir but I still recommend that Haley be seen."

"Do you really think it's that important?"

"If she continues to vomit, yes I do." (NO! I mean why else would I be wasting my time having this lovely conversation with you!?)

"Well what can I do to make it stop."

"Sir, you would need to bring her in to have a doctor see her because the vomiting could be due to several different factors."

Long pause. "So you can't tell me why she's vomiting...."

"No sir. I can't." (Seriously?)

"So is this serious?"

Oh. My. God.

"Again sir, I can't really tell you how good or bad of a situation it is because I'm only a technician and a DOCTOR needs to look at her to re-evaluate the situation. So if she continues to vomit, you need to have her seen somewhere."

"But it's not free."

"No sir. It's not free."

"I'll just watch her for a few more days and take her to my vet if she continues to vomit. Since you guys aren't going to do it for free." (Really? Are they going to do it for free? Very unlikely.)

"OK. Well I hope she feels better. Give us a call if you need anything."

Long pause.

"Hello?"

"You mean if she's still vomiting?"

"Yes. If she's still vomiting or not eating." (You are such a dumb-ass. I hope you don't have children.)

"OK."

"OK." (Jeez. Some people should not have pets.)

Let me just say, it's moments like these where I can only say through gritted teeth....I. Love. My. Job.

Randomness

2009-09-10T18:12:00.002-04:00

I was walking Leira this evening and stumbles upon several random things that I would like to share:

1) A teenager on his bike that was riding in front of me, occasionally looking back and then lifting his bike up to where he was only riding on one wheel. I'm not sure what he was expecting....perhaps he wanted me to say something like "Hey! Good for you! You are only about 2 seconds away from visiting the ER because you have broken your neck. Good job!" Coolest. Guy. Ever.

2) A lady mowing her lawn with ankle weights on....that's dedication....

3) What I thought was a run over green snake and after a brief freak out that it might not be dead and was perhaps looking at me and planning my demise...was relieved to find out that it was only an ugly shoestring. (But it was dead...very dead indeed.)

4) An abandoned little girls pink bike by the swing-sets in the neighborhood I walk in. It's actually been there for at least a month and it's a bit disturbing. I can't even begin to tell you the many scenarios that go through my head when I see that pink bike.

5) A random empty beer can sitting beside a recycle bin. Really? Was it that hard to put it INSIDE the container?

6) 5 cats staring at me through windows of one house....oh wait....that would be where I live.....

Food for thought.....

2009-09-06T09:43:00.001-04:00

Cake Cake Cake Cake Cake Cake Cake Cake Cake Cake........

Humanity

2009-09-05T14:47:00.002-04:00

I've had kinda a shitty day. Perhaps that was too blunt and pessimistic....I'll put it this way, it could have been better.

I got to work (yes, on a Saturday...sad face) and I had tons of phone calls to make so I was already a bit stressed about that. (Though thank you Mandy for helping me out with this:). Then upon making one of the phone calls, the guy started yelling at me across the phone line about how our hospital's communication has, and I quote, "completely gone down hill." Then he threatened to take all of his pet's records and have them transferred.

I was stunned. I was only the middle man who was asked to make a phone call and see if I could help in any way. I understood his frustration and I would have loved to help him further but him yelling at me was not going to make things better for either one of us. Then (like a complete over-sensitive little girl) I began to cry...on the phone...with Mr. Angry still yelling at me. (How humiliating...and talk about losing my pride.) I will say however, once he heard how upset I was, he did apologize and took the time to tell me it wasn't me he was upset with and yada yada yada. But here's the thing...he knew this before he started yelling at me so why did he have to take it out on me in the first place? I don't understand people's rationale sometimes. I just don't get it. And I know I shouldn't take it personally but I do and I can't help it. I want to help when someone is feeling upset (even if it's not my job to.) And this was one of my favorite clients so that made it even worse....

Next was the humongous dog in room 2 of whom we had never seen before and out-weighed me, not only in size but in strength. I couldn't tell if he wanted to eat me or lick me to death. And he kept barking the whole time when I was trying to get the history from his soft-spoken owner and I had to keep repeating myself and asking her to repeat herself and it was a huge mess. The big (perhaps scary...but actually sweet?...not sure at that point)dog then decided to jump up on the exam table (on his own I might add) and I looked up and saw his big head and tongue (not to mention teeth) right in my face.

Once i finally finished getting a history and going over the treatment plan, I took him back to take his temperature and get his weight and such. And let me just tell you...he was the absolute dumbest, goofiest pit bull I have ever met (and I've met some goofy pits in my time). But he was sweet as anything and all he wanted to do was lick everybody.

Last, but certainly not least....a cat tried to kill me and one of my co-workers. I haven't the energy to tell this tale (no pun intended). But towels, gloves, urine, teeth and claws were all involved.....use your imagination at will.

I love my job, but some days I wish I could go back to retail....though once I did have a guy throw a piece of a fan at me when I was working in customer service....I swear I'm a nice person. The general public just happens to include a bunch of assholes and I apparently have to deal with a lot of them.

I will say, and end this short (hmmmmm perhaps not so short...oops) rant with this: my faith in humanity was completely restored when I went to Target and overheard a little girl talking to her mom about Michael Jackson.

"How many people do you know who can moonwalk like Michael Jackson?" (How. Cute. Is. That?)

I never heard her mom's answer but the fact that this small individual knew who he was made me smile. So I send out a huge "THANK YOU" to the little girl who will help to live out his remembrance.

Maybe at least she won't grow up to be an asshole.....

Wedding planning

2009-09-03T18:59:00.002-04:00

When Andrew and I got engaged almost 5 months ago, I was so elated about planning and getting things done and making everything perfect. I became obsessed with wedding magazines and websites and bridal shows. We found our ceremony/reception sight within the first 2 months and soon after, I (or rather my parents:) bought my wedding gown and then we went cake tasting and tried out a caterer. We have already registered at 3 places and we (or rather my parents:) have bought most of the decorations for the reception (i.e. vases, bubbles, guest book and pen, flower girl basket, ect). But now I'm stuck....

I have been communicating with our officiant, who is also the same person who owns the place we are getting married, via email. And we have been going back and forth about prices for the caterer and florist that she sometimes uses for couples who don't want to have to plan everything on their own. We thought we were good on a caterer...but alas, this seems to be a total bust. Apparently Jeanne (our officiant) is concerned that the caterer we were thinking of using won't put on a good "presentation". (What does that mean exactly?....I haven't a clue!) But now she is recommending someone else who has a "great presentation"! and higher quality food and so on and so on. There is one catch however. This particular caterer wants to charge us (or rather my parents) $500 more than the other one....WHAT? I realize that Jeanne is trying to help but seriously? We're (or rather my parents:) running out of money fast.

So I got this information last night and upon waking up this morning, I thought to myself "maybe we should go a different route as far as catering?" But I, never having planned a wedding in my entire life, have no idea how to go about this. So now I have this on the wedding planning plate and I have yet to really find out about what's going on with our potential florist (who might be charging us a fee to speak with her in person...?...Is this customary you ask...again...NO IDEA!!!!).

OK OK. I know what you're thinking. I'm being a completely selfish "bridezilla" because only a couple of things have not gone according to plan. But here me out. About 2 months ago, Jenn (my matron of honor:) and I started looking for bridesmaids dresses. We went to the David's Bridal here in Raleigh and let me just say...so not impressed!!! The lady who "took care of us" was completely distracted the whole time and acted as though we were an inconvenience. Jenn tried on several dresses and yipee!!!! we found the right one! It was the perfect length and color and everything! The lady of course wanted to know what size we needed to order, blah blah blah but we wanted to wait it out. She seemed extremely annoyed and thrust-ed her business card in my face (that of which I tore up when we got back to the car and placed in my wedding planning scrapbook once we got back home). But it was all good. We had found the bridesmaids dresses! One more thing to check off of the list.

So all of this being said, in my excitement, I went online to admire the dress once again and send a picture out to all of the rest of my lovely bridesmaids, then I noticed one small, minor, but particularly important detail. The dress was not listed as being available in the color I wanted....."that can't be right?" I thought to myself. "I'll just call them tomorrow...."

I made the call on my lunch break the next day and immediately was put on hold after telling the person on the other line my dilemma. I was forced to listen to horrible R & B elevator music (who knew they made such a thing?) and was finally (5 minutes later) asked AGAIN what it was I was holding for. (I believe the second time someone got on the phone, it was a different person than the first time).

"So what did you need?"

I sighed. And told the second employee what I was inquiring about.

"Oh..." (LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG PAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSE......) "Hold on a minute..."

More elevator music....but staying calm.

Five minutes later. "Yeah. We have that dress (this was the first girl I spoke with....).

"I know. But do you have it in that color?"

"Oh, let me go see..."

"Wait!"...but she was gone and I was talking to the horrid music.

Five more minutes pass and I'm about to hang up when the girl gets back on the line. "Yeah, we don't have that dress in that color."

Long pause. "OK then. Well I guess I won't be shopping at your store again!!!!!" And I hung up.....

Yes. I know I know. This was so completely immature but the bitch had it coming. That's all I have to say.....I mean seriously? Isn't it their job to make sure each of their potential shoppers have a good experience? I used to work in customer service and even though I couldn't always provide what the customer wanted, I at least tried to help them leave happy and satisfied. I swear, the words, "thank you" and "I apologize" really go a long way with most people. That's all I'm saying...that's all I was asking...but no. Everyone at the David's Bridal in Raleigh is a bitch. Fair and square.....but that's all I have to say about that.

So this was the beginning of what feels like a long streak of negatives in the wedding planning department. Jenn and I tried again to look at another boutique and at least they were nice but they didn't have what I wanted. (Who knew this would be so hard?)

And I went to order my wedding invitations this morning and found that they have been discontinued...(are. you. kidding. me?)

OK. Be calm. I have several months to get everything in order. But I'm really starting to wonder.....

Maybe we should elope.....?

If I were a super hero...I would be...?

2009-09-03T11:36:00.002-04:00

Invisible....

Do you ever go out in public and feel invisible to everyone outside enjoying life around you? I often have moments like in the first Princess Diaries movie when people kept sitting on her because they didn't see her there...And sometimes, I even find myself staring at someone I see on the street and having the empty thought that they can't see me because I'm not truly there.

It's like I'm living outside of myself and I can't quite conjure up the thought that someone else might take the time out of their busy life to notice me. I often feel left out in social situations and I wonder if it's just me being paranoid or if there is really something to this. I mean, I chose to be the way I am to an extent, but i don't think any of us truly choose to be an outsider on purpose.

I hear bits and pieces of peoples' conversations that involve underlying racism, politics and going to the next Kenny Chesney concert. (I don't even know who Kenny Chesney is!?!!) I'm not judging. I'm only pointing out that I have nothing in common with these people. My handful of friends is exactly that...only a handful and we don't always agree on everything (who does?) but we at least respect each others opinions and views on life.

I was heart broken the other day when I heard someone say that "Protesters against the war don't care about the danger soldiers embrace. All they care about is starting another uproar and doing drugs and being lazy...." Or something to that affect. I couldn't believe this point of view, though I really did try to see that side of the picture. The truth is I have friends who are soldiers and those who are against war. I am in fact, one of those protesters...and yet, i have never done drugs and I'm NOT lazy...at least I don't think I am. What a sad point of view to have when one can't even comprehend a solution that succeeds death and violence....

Sometimes I feel so alone and I can't even begin to fathom what it feels like to be "normal". But maybe it is normal to feel this way on occasion? But I guess just once, it would be nice to feel like I fit in somewhere outside of my own home...it would be nice not to always feel so....

invisible...

Top 10 things that cheer me up on a rainy day:

2009-09-01T10:00:00.002-04:00

10) Well, in all honesty, I like the rain, especially when it's late at night and I can hear it tap tap tapping on the window panes. It relaxes me and makes me feel safe inside our cute little townhouse, snuggled up under the covers with Leira curled up right between Andrew and I. This is what life is all about.

9) Staying in and eating junk food, watching old movies and laughing until I cry (or vis-versa depending on the flick). There are just some movies that I can watch over and over again and never get enough.

Some that immediately come to mind: Breakfast At Tiffanys, While You Were Sleeping, 13 Going on 30, Harry Potter.....and so on and so on

8) Taking a nap. Let's be honest, any day that I actually get a chance to do this is a good day:). I totally took this for granted when I was little. I wanted to spend every moment I could wide awake in the hopes that i would never miss anything. But these days, a nap picks me up just like that and I'm ready to conquer the world once again. Without such naps...i can still conquer the world...only a bit more sluggishly.

7) Having the extra time to "stalk" people on Myspace and Facebook. Don't judge! We all do it and you know it!!! What better way to keep up with ex's and old "friends" from high school than to check out their recent updates and statuses and pictures without having to actually TALK to them?!?! GENIUS! And my happiness increases in points each time I come across an old classmate who is now fat....that's right. I am woman hear me roar! Grr...

6) Rearranging furniture. I go through spring cleaning more than the average person. I like to have little changes around me such as moving the couch an inch to the left or moving bookcases from one corner to another. It makes me feel refreshed. And it also helps me to feel like my life is not at a stand still. I think in some cultures, this is called Feng Shui.....in my culture, I like to call it "Mary's bored and needs something to do so she's going to move things around until she gets tired or distracted by the task of doing something else."

5) Baking cookies. I love the smell of fresh baked cookies!!! Especially on a rainy day. It's like the extra rain smell adds to the flavor or something. I can't quite describe it. Just trust me on this: Chocolate+rain= yummy yummy goodness.

4) Watching the rain from our bay window in the front of the house with a kitty on my lap (or 2 or 3 and so on and so on:). This is pure bliss. Nothing can quite take the place of this....hee that rhymed!

3) Playing with the dog. Andrew and I have this game we play with Leira where we'll chase her up and down the stairs and all around the house. We'll go in separate directions in order to confuse her (which really doesn't take much) and sometimes we'll hide behind a closed door to see if she notices. This is a very fun and cheap form of entertainment. Ah. The classic moments that make up our lives.

2) Staying in my pajamas all day. Do I really need to say more than this?

1) Reading a good book or 2 (most likely of the memoir or vampire/witch/werewolf persuasion as of late...depending on the mood). Quiet time+a fantastic read= happiness and pure content.

Letter to our cats.

2009-08-07T18:44:00.002-04:00

Dear Lorelai, Tuna, Phoebe, Dip and Bianca,

I have finally come to the conclusion that if I were ever to happen to pass away in my sleep, you would still find a need to sit on my head, bite on my ears and scratch at my face during the wee hours of the morning.

The coroner would see these scratches and bite marks and suspect foul play, only to discover that these injuries were made after I had indeed died.

It is not that I do not think you care for me as your mother. It is just my feeling that you care more about food when it is breakfast or dinner time. I do not take offense to this.

However in retrospect, I would like you to all to consider why there are times when, instead of getting fed immediately, you get tricked and sent out of the bedroom without getting fed first. This is not because I do not love you. It's because at the time my priorities = sleep first, feed cats later.

Also, I want to make the comment that you have officially brainwashed dear, sweet Andrew into believing that he is your slave. I know this because he actually made that very comment to me the other morning when I was half asleep and wondering why my head felt so heavy (Thank you Lorelai for that).

Let me just say that neither Andrew nor I are your slaves. I know this might be hard to accept. But life is hard.

Get over it.

Should any of these thoughts need to be discussed further, we would be more than happy to listen to your questions/comments/complaints. But in the mean time, please keep this thought in mind each morning before you start screaming, clawing, climbing and sitting on people's heads....

Stop it.

Yours Truly,
Mary and Andrew

Addition...

2009-08-07T18:39:00.002-04:00

So I have another addition to add to my top 10 blonde moments! (That would make 11 right?)

The other night several weeks ago, Andrew and I were standing in the hall talking about going to see Joan Jett (Let me just say, we did and it. was. awesome!) But anyway, we were standing there talking about it and Andrew mentioned that the concert was going to be in Downtown Raleigh on Saturday during "Downtown After 5" (This is a typical summer thing in Raleigh where they hold live music downtown and such.) I then proceeded to ask Andrew (and was completely serious at the time...)

"What time does downtown after 5 start?.......

Ahem.

I never said I was a genius.

Heroes

2009-08-02T08:00:00.008-04:00

We all have a hero or two right? For whatever reason, we often put certain people up on a pedastool because he or she inspires us in some way or another.

I was introduced to one of my heroes several years ago during my Women In Literature class. It was custom for our teacher to start off each class with one of her favorite songs to try to get us into the mood.

When she played "When I Was A Boy" by Dar Williams, I remember sitting there, listening to the lyrics, anxious to know who this musician was and how on earth I had never heard of her before. I was so excited! I mean, I have always been a huge fan of music and I love love love to "discover" new artists, especially those that aren't "famous" in the pop-culture sort of way. This woman's lyrics were so endearing. And it was like she was inside my head.

My teacher then played another song by Dar called "The Babysitter's Here" and I was hooked! It was that same sort of feeling one gets when he or she finds a four leave clover out in the backyard. I couldn't wait to find and buy and listen to everything this person had ever written.

It's not everyday that you find an artist who is so diverse in the subjects she writes about; from childhood to being a woman to rivers to science experiments, politics, the environment...all of the subjects I personally hold so dear.

From that day forth, she has been an inspiration in my life.

A few years ago, I was able to go see her in concert at the Orangepeel in Asheville. I. Was. So. Excited!!!! The guy I was dating at the time (he who shall not be named...little inside joke there), and I arrived extra early so that we could get a good seat. I was jumping up and down from anticipation and acting like a complete freak/stalker and he was complaining about the girls standing in front of us.

"They better sit down when Dar comes out!'

In my head I was thinking....Who does he think he is calling Dar Williams by her first name? I mean really! She's DAR WILLIAMS!

I ignored him...come to think of it, I did that a lot...hmmmmm...hindsight's 20 20.

But anyway. The crowd goes silent and she arrives on stage. I am taking in the moment when suddenly I hear "he who shall not be named" screaming at the girls in front of us because they haven't sat down yet...

I.Could Have Died.

And there was Dar Williams, a bit distracted and she heard him and asked him what was wrong.

"Don't you think it's rude Dar when you arrive early to a show and people come and stand in front of you blocking your view?"

There he was calling her by her first name again. Thoughts of murder were running through my mind....this was my idol. And he was ruining it!

But because she's Dar Williams, she simply exclaimed "It's only rude if the people who showed up early are upset by the ones who showed up later and stood in front of them..."

The girls immediately sat down and the show began.

It. Was Perfect.

There she was, singing all of the songs I knew and it was over much to soon. We were yelling and clapping and screaming "Encore! Encore!!!"

And she finally came back out.

Within the first note, I knew what song it was and I started jumping up and down. She was playing "The Babysitter's Here".

Oh. My. God! Incredible!!!

I looked over at "he who shall not be named" and....

The bastard was crying...

CRYING!!!!!

Seriously!

How selfish can one be to put me in the position of having to "take care" of him once again during a true historic moment in my life.

Did I mention he was a bastard?

But the concert came and went and it would be a few years until I had another chance to see my inspiration play once more.

That time came only a few weeks ago when my mom sent me (because she's awesome like that:) an email informing me that Dar Williams would be playing a show during Bele Chere this year...for free!!!! And outdoors!

Finding this out was like being told I would be able to go back in time and experience Woodstock '69.

Only better.

So Andrew and I immediately decided that we could not miss this show. I had to be there!

She was playing on a Friday night and I had to be at work early on Saturday but I knew it would be worth it. I mean. We're talking Dar Williams!!!!

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!

We drove to Asheville Thursday night and spent Friday morning and afternoon with my parents. Then we headed out to Downtown Asheville where the event was to take place. We walked around some. (I've always loved Bele Chere and I hadn't been in a few years and Andrew had never been so he was excited as well). We stopped by the booth I used to always work at during my more pronounced "hippy" days and I saw a friend of mine I used to work with. Then we headed to the stage.

A whole hour early.

What? I wanted to get a good spot.

We plastered ourselves directly in front of the stage and waited.

And waited......

And waited...................

I was starting to get a little antsy when I looked up and saw her.

There she was. On stage. Doing her own sound check (how cool is that?). And she was eating.

"Oh my God!!! Look Andrew she's eating! I got a picture of her eating!"

Did I mention I'm just a bit spastic?

Andrew just laughed and smiled at me because he's wonderful and he would have been the same way should it have been Jim James from My Morning Jacket eating right before his eyes.

I will just mention here, this normal everyday activity may not seem so exciting to a normal person.

I'm not normal.

And seeing Dar Williams chew her food right there in front of me was magical.

Simply magical.

Then the concert began...and let me just say.

Best. Concert. EVER!!!

She played every single one of my favorite songs, old and new and she was so great with the audience. She even took several requests. The kicker of it all was that she played "The Babysitter's Here" and when I looked over at Andrew....

HE WASN"T CRYING!

Because he.....IS NOT....a bastard:).

Other than this, my favorite part was when she strummed the first note of "When I Was A Boy" and I was taken back to being in that classroom once again, hearing her music and lyrics for the very first time. This woman was the whole reason I ever picked up a guitar in the first place.

And alas. Again. It was over much too soon.

I was grinning from ear to ear and bouncing up and down and I noticed a few people walking back stage. I looked at Andrew and we followed suit.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting but suddenly Dar Williams was standing right in front of our small group and asking us casually if we could walk around to the other side.

I was a zombie. I just followed and it was like watching everything around me in slow motion. The gate opened slowly and the security guard stepped out and said "Just don't crowd her." And this is when it hit me...

I was about to meet Dar Williams. My hero. My idol. My favorite-est "star" in the whole wide world.

I say this with complete elegance.....

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek! Yipeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!!!!!!!!!"

Ahem.

I stood there shaking, trying to figure out exactly what I was going to say when Andrew, lovely fiance' that he is, stepped out and got her attention,

"Dar. I want you to meet your biggest fan Mary." (It's ok that Andrew called her by her first name because she and I were about to become best friends and start touring together anyway!)

I looked at her. She looked at me and she said "Nice to meet you Mary." And held out her hand.

I shook her hand and said......

"Bllehew hwhkksj dsahdksjaklkl;"......

Yeah....I couldn't tell you what that means either.

However she did seem to understand somehow that I wanted her autograph as I handed her a random piece of paper I had found in my purse in a nice, cave-man like manner.

I do remember spastic-ly asking her if I could have my picture taken with her and she said "Oh! Of course! Who's taking it?"

It took me a second to find Andrew because to be honest in the whole moment, I had forgotten anyone else was there....

But he was standing there waiting for the moment. I smiled my biggest smile and he took the picture.

I looked at Dar (remember...we're best friends now so I can call her that) and said "Thank you." And then....

I think I hugged her....

Yep. I'm pretty sure I did. (Sadly. I don't really remember....?) But yeah. I think I hugged her.

Did I mention how spastic I am?

When Andrew and I walked away (let's be honest...he walked, I skipped and jumped and acted like a 5 year old again screaming "I just met Dar Williams! I just met Dar Williams!".....can you say restraining order?....that poor girl...),But I knew I would never forget that moment.

Thank you Dar Williams for putting up with your fans...both normal and crazy. You truly are the best and we love you!!!!

Andrew and I awaiting the concert to begin.

Dar Williams eating!!!!! So exciting!!!

I love this shot! (Thanks Andrew for being the photographer during this ultra-cool event!)

The moment....

Top 10 things that scare me...

2009-07-16T08:19:00.004-04:00

10. Public Restrooms. This includes but is not limited to: Porta-potties and rest areas. I have been inside a porta-potty all of 2 times in my life and since the last time have vowed never to go into one again...It. Was. Disgusting. People are so gross...(And this is coming from a person who has to clean up dog shit at least twice a day). I'll leave it at that.

As for the rest areas...it's not so much the public part of the restroom that scares me. (Though I will admit...the majority of the female gender apparently doesn't know how to wipe the seat after they're done...)It's more the people that hang out there that scare me. I've never been to a rest area and not seen at least one bearded, creepy old man standing outside watching every person that goes in. This is where my "make no eye contact" rule comes in. (Hey. If I don't look directly at them., in my mind that = I'm safe:). The same applies for random people standing on the side of the road with "will work for food signs".... and clowns.

9. This brings me to my next worst fear...CLOWNS! Oh. My. God. Whose ever idea it was to dress some middle-aged man or woman in a clown suit and put crazy make-up on was insane. INSANE! Who finds that entertaining? And it doesn't matter if they are skating around on an ice rink with little kids singing "What a great time for a great taste at McDonald's". (That's a little tribute to the old McDonald's 80's commercials.) But seriously, adding ice skates onto a clown? That only makes it easier and faster for them to catch you!

And let me just say, the clown from Poltergeist that suddenly became possessed and attacked the little boy scared the absolute s*** out of me! I mean seriously, I thought I was going to kill over from having a heart attack at the mere adolescent age of 12. One word: C.R.E.E.P.Y.

8. Accidentally eating meat at a restaurant. You ask why is that? Wouldn't you know what to order since you're a vegetarian and all? One would think it was that simple. But truth be told, I have had a few experiences of which this has happened.

Once I went to one of my then favorite Italian restaurants and ordered spaghetti with marinara sauce. Knowing that sometimes, chefs will marinate their sauce in beef stock, I specifically asked if it was vegetarian. They told me yes. So I'm sitting there eating my meal and suddenly feel my face turn as white as the dress I was wearing. I asked my mom to inspect my spaghetti and have a taste. (If you have ever been to a restaurant with me, you have probably seen me do this more than once:). She tasted it and told me it was meat. I. Could. Have. Died. I got the waitresses attention and informed her that I was a vegetarian and this is what she said to me:

"Oh." Giggle Giggle. "You didn't know?"

I looked at her for a moment and replied calmly,

"I thought I did know because whoever I talked to when I called and asked told me it was vegetarian."

"Oh." Giggle Giggle. "Well sometimes the cooks will lie."

I could have choked her with my meat-laced spaghetti.

Another similar, yet not so dramatic occurrence, is the whole reason why I just eat cheese pizza from fast food places.This is because one time I ordered mushrooms and took a big bite and found that a piece of sausage was in my mouth. I screamed and spit it out...which brings us to #7.

7. Sausage. Or anything coming from a pig. What is it exactly? My family can attest to this fear when once we were at Briggs (Best. Breakfast. Ever.) and somehow my hair landed in the sausage on my dad's plate. Suddenly I was screaming "Ah! I've got sausage hair!!!" And the entire restaurant was looking at me like I was crazy.

6. Charles Manson. And yet, no matter how frightened I am of this man, I am truly fascinated by any book, t.v., special, article, ect. the news has to offer me. I have no explanation for this.

5. The random things that go bump in the night. I hear these noises all of the time and am convinced that it's something of the super natural persuasion. I also hold these beings (?) responsible for the socks that go missing in the laundry. And there is nothing more scary than the idea of a ghost wearing just one of your socks. Think about it people....think about it.

4.Vampires. I. Hate. It. When anything is choking my neck or touching my neck. Perhaps it is because my mom used to always dress me in turtle necks (all colors of the rainbow...gotta love the 80's). But I feel like anything touching my neck, whether it's a necklace or a sweater or whatever, secludes me from oxygen and I suddenly feel like I'm suffocating. Hence the reference to vampires...they choke you with their teeth. And the whole idea of that freaks me out...

3.Drowning. Perhaps this certain fear comes from the fact that my brother and his friends use to always find it funny to dunk me and hold me under the water a little too long...I will say however that they did not think it was oh so funny when I discovered how quick of a reaction I could get when I started kicking frantically and landed in areas I will not say. (Use your imagination.)

2.Cartman from South Park. Creepy ass cartoon cooked that kids' parents and fed them to him....That's just messed up. And that episode marked the end of my South Park phase.

1.My own ability to hurt myself (unwillingly mind you) via falling down the stairs, running into brick walls, getting hit by a parked car, tripping over invisible objects....the list goes on. And I have yet to kill myself by accident. This is truly a miracle.

Here's the thing...

2009-07-09T09:09:00.002-04:00

Caution: This might offend....

I woke up this morning thinking about several issues that have always been important to me. For example, I have always had a soft spot for all living things, whether it be people, animals, plants or insects. I don't believe that the killing of any of these beings is right. Yes, I know that through natural selection, animals kill one another for food, territory, etc but they do it as an order to survive...not out of cruelty to one another.

“Wild animals never kill for sport. Man is the only one to whom the torture and death of his fellow creatures is amusing in itself.”- James AnthonyFroude

This simple statement holds true for not only the senseless killing of animals, but for killing our own kind as well. This being said, I don't feel that it is right to kill any human under any circumstance, including the use of the death penalty and in the acts of war. This does not in any way meant that I am against our soldiers who risk their lives for this country every day. I have a high respect for these individuals and their selflessness. I can't even begin to imagine what their everyday lives are like.

(Let me also note that I am not trying to offend all of you meat-eaters out there. Just stating how I feel. That's all:).

But there has to be a better way. I'm not saying I have the right answer or any other alternative at all. But no one ever got anywhere by making the same mistake over and over again. (I can attest to that on a personal level).

Now I know that many might convey these thoughts of mine to be complete "hippy garble". But here's the thing. Do any of us truly want another living soul to die?

Believe me. I have gone through that whole "phase" so-to-speak of dressing the part of a hippy, displaying tons of bumper stickers on my car, blasting Ani Difranco from my crackly car radio speakers while she's singing about how "America is not a true democracy". I was outraged when Bush was re-elected and couldn't understand how anyone could perceive him as a true leader. I was angry and trying to fight this inner battle of "why do bad things happen to good people", questioning God and asking the eternal why of everything. I've been there. Done that.

And it got me no where in the end but where I am today.

I still stick by my beliefs and morals as I always have. And I respect anyone who might disagree with me, however I expect the same kind of respect back. In my opinion, there is a very fine line between politics and religion and the personal value that each of these topics hold. It doesn't matter to me if you are republican, democrat or liberal. It makes no difference to me if you are Christian, Jew or Muslim. If you describe your faith as religious or spiritual. In my opinion, and that's exactly all this is; we are all EVERYTHING. We all "come together" as the Beatles once said and make the world what it is through, not only are differences, but our likenesses. Sometimes I think we focus too much on such ""differences...when in all reality, that's not what's important.

What's important is that we are alive and that we should treasure each day to the best of our abilities. We are all here for a reason, whatever that reason may be....even if at times it seems faulty. The purpose is there. Live it out.

And be at peace....

Top 10: Blonde Moments

2009-06-28T21:44:00.001-04:00

Here is a list of my top 10 "blonde" moments. Please do not judge...whether you admit it or not, we ALL have them. These are my favorite thus far....

10. When I was a freshmen in High School, we were all assigned an English term that we had to teach to the class in an interesting way. My group got the word hyperbole.

As a brief refresher, a hyperbole, according to the ever-so trustworthy Wikipedia, is "a figure of speech in which statements are exaggerated."

I forget how exactly our group chose to teach this term to our fellow students. However, I do remember very well that the other 2 guys in my group were deadbeats and decided that I should do all the work for it.

Being the nice gal that I am, I went along with it on one condition. One of them would have to do most of the talking in front of the class. Public speaking, for me, has always been an absolute nightmare. I get a dry throat, which makes me feel as though I'm going to vomit any second. I start pacing back and forth in my mind and try to memorize exactly what I'm going to say over and over in my head. Then, once I get up in front of a group of people, whether it's only 2 or 20 or 200, I inevitably forget what I'm about to say and stutter all over my words making it completely impossible for anyone to understand what the hell I am talking about.

That being said, you can imagine my hesitation when I found out 5 minutes before our presentation, my dead beat group "partners" had changed their minds and decided that I was also going to present the whole project.

Oh God. I'm going to hurl....

So we get up there. I take a deep breath and I look at my loving classmates. I had known all of these people for years, some of them since kindergarten. It was no big deal right? Right. So...here it goes....

I open my mouth....

Silence.

I try again...

Nothing.

And then, I guess to help me along, my teacher asked us what our term was.

Yea! I know the answer to that one. So I blurted out...

"Hyper-bowl! Our term was hyper-bowl!"

And yes....that's exactly how I said it. I said it as though this fictitious bowl needed to be on ritalin....what the hell?

(For those of you who didn't catch it, the word phonetically is pronounced "hye-PER-bə-lee".)

My teacher was so nice though. She just smiled and corrected me gently but not at the expense of all the other students who were giggling and laughing and pointing....

I know they thought I was an idiot. But somehow I made it through the rest of the presentation. This was only the beginning of a long slew of embarrassing moments when it came to public speaking.

9. Andrew and I play this game often where one of us will ask the other a trivia question. It's usually while we're taking one of our infamous road trips and we're just trying to keep things interesting. These trivia questions are usually movie, t.v. or music related but sometimes we'll stump each other with a history or sports question.

(OK. Let's be honest, we all know that I know absolutely nothing about most history and sports trivia...My smarts are usually in English and Literature....except of course if you want me to pronounce something correctly. See "blonde" moment #10).

So this being said, sometimes I get people confused with who they really are. So one day, Andrew and I are driving around and he asks me to name a player on the Lakers team. I stare at him blankly.

First of all, I'm not even sure if he's talking basketball or football. And he wants me to name a player? Ok...here it goes.

I look at him confidently and say the first name that pops into my head.

"Stonewall Jackson!"

Ha! So there! He didn't see that one coming now did he! I. Am. So. SMART!

And then I look at him and see that he is laughing. No, not laughing...more like cackling at me.

"What?" I say. "Do I have the wrong team?"

He can barely get the words out and every time he even tries to talk, he glances at me, sees the look on my face and then starts howling again.

I start to get a little annoyed.

"Well, are you going to tell me? What's so funny?"

He finally gets a hold of himself and says, "Stonewall Jackson? Really? Are you being serious?"

He looks at me again and sees that I am and therefore this throws him into another fit of laughter.

I stare ahead in front of me wanting to plummet myself out of the car into on-coming traffic.

And finally, he breaks it to me. Apparently...Stonewall Jackson was a general in some war...(who knew?). But in my defense, doesn't the name "Stonewall" sound like a basketball (or football?) player's name?....

Doesn't it?

8. I hate being wrong. (Who doesn't?) But I especially hate being wrong when I'm being so adamant that I'm right. For example, one day my family and I were sitting around talking about random things when the subject turned to Disney World. We were discussing how much we all were amazed that my old Pontiac Grand am "Betsy" made it to and from there so many times. So I made the comment "Yeah I know. She's been there and back 3 times! Crazy!"

My dad looks at me and says, "No. She's only been there and back 2 times."

I look at him knowingly. "No. remember? I drove her to Florida when I lived there. Then back again. (That's 2 times right?) Then when I went a couple of years ago. (3)

He stared at me. "But that only makes 2 times."

"No No No. It's 3."

I kept trying to explain to him the logic of how many times and I was starting to get frustrated...did this really matter anyway? I kept trying different angles to approach it and kept coming up with the same result. And he kept telling me that it was only 2 times, there and back.

So I tried the first route again. "I drove her to Florida when I lived there. Then back again. (That's 1 time) And then I drove her there and back a couple of years ago...that's 2 times and then....."

He looked at me.

Crap. I knew I was caught..."And then...."

Oops. Look at that. He was right all along...

7. Scary movies are not my forte'. (See previous blog from 3/5/09 if you don't believe me.) I am the type of person who has mapped out in my head where I would hide should someone try to come in my house and kill me. I've even tried fitting myself between the mattress and the box spring (the perfect hiding place right?). And I've timed it out exactly and done trial runs to make sure I am prepared for any possible sudden attacks.

When I was in high school, there were often times when I found myself being home alone. I did not like these times. Even in the daytime, I had a hard time occupying myself enough to not sit in quiet too long and imagine all of the non-existent noises I was hearing.

One day. These noises were not non-existent. They were real. Someone was trying to get in the house. Needless to say, I panicked.

So I thought to myself. Mary. You can do this. You have to protect yourself. I could hear whoever was trying to get in getting closer and closer to achieving their goal. So I decided then and there that I would be brave and defend myself. I grabbed the nearest thing to me to use as a weapon. Not a knife. Not a shovel. Not a piece of rope.....a hairbrush.

Yes. A hair brush.

You ask me, what was I thinking? (See title of this blog...)

So dangerous hairbrush in hand, I started creeping down the hall. Said attacker was getting closer, but I had my weapon and my plan in mind. (And yes, I was going to beat him senseless with my trusty hairbrush...and no one was going to stop me.)

I was getting closer and so was he. I heard voices. (There was more than one of them). They were coming in the door. I could hear it creaking and their footsteps were getting closer to me. I reached the end of the hall. I knew that as soon as they rounded the next corner, they would see me, "weapon" in hand and pull out their own defenses. I decided then and there to act fast. I wouldn't give them the chance to see me first. Here it goes.

I rounded the corner and charged!!!!!!!!!! Hairbrush held high and screaming like a banchie! But stopped short...

There standing in front of me was my brother and a couple of his friends. They looked at me. I looked at them. Then they saw the hairbrush. They looked at me again....

I tried to play it cool (so what if I had forgotten they were coming over that day? So what if my brother was holding his house key in his hand and I hadn't reasonably deducted the fact that his putting the key in the door was the scary noise I was hearing...)

They continued to stare at me. I had nothing.....

So I walked away.

But trespassers beware. You won't be so lucky....

6. One of my most favorite t.v shows is "Alias". Any show where the woman is always the one that kicks ass is something I am highly entertained by. But that's beside the point.

One day, not too long ago, my brother Pat and sister-in-law Jenn and I were sitting at the kitchen table. We were talking about the show and Jenn mentioned how she missed Sidney (Jennifer Garner's character) dressing up so much like she had in the first couple of seasons. Then she made the comment: "I mean the show is called "Alias", you would think they would keep that up right?"

I looked at Jenn and it clicked. "Oh!" I said. "That's why the show is called "Alias". I always wondered that."

Pat and Jenn stared at me like a cow does at an oncoming train.

I stared back innocently..."What?"

5. Growing up, Pat and I loved watching old Dr. Who episodes. It was my Dad's fault actually. He was the one who introduced us to the British show and we were hooked from the beginning. Often times, we would sneak into his room while he was sleeping and snag one of his tapes of episodes from his closet and watch it all day long. We even made up a Dr. Who game where we would build forts and go on "missions" and such. Good times. Good times.

We were talking about the show one day, many, many years later and Dad said something about the robotic dog in the show named K-9. I didn't hear all of what he was saying because when he mentioned the dogs name, I had an epiphany. Suddenly I blurted out:

"Hey! That's cool. The dog's name was K-9...you know, like canine. Like the species...!"

Yea me! I'm so. Smart.

Pat looked at me and my dad started laughing. "Really?" They said in unison.

I looked at them back. "What?"

4. Oops! I forgot to put a # 4! So me forgetting to count will serve as my #4 blonde moment!

3. The infamous chicken bone- (See blog from 4/2/09)

2. Pat and I loved to ride our bikes when we were little. It was one of our favorite things to do. (What kid doesn't like riding a bike?)

One afternoon, we were doing our normal obstacle course of riding up and down the driveway and all the way around the house. We would do this multiple times throughout the day and try to make it more interesting along the way.

So I get this brilliant idea that when Pat was going around the house one way, I would go the opposite way and we would pass each other and go from there. However, I forgot one minor detail. I somehow neglected to tell him that I was going to do this, so he was never pre-warned that I was coming.

So there we were, I was going one direction while he was going the other...both at full speed and it looked as though we were going to meet in the middle....literally.

Suddenly I realized that he wasn't slowing down and he was headed right towards me....we were going to crash.

So what did I do you ask? Well naturally...I panicked.

I swerved to my right to get out of the way, failing to remember that the only thing directly to my right was a huge hill that ended up at the bottom of our property. Not so bad, right?

Right.

So one would think I would hold onto the bike with all my might, hoping that I was still on it by the time I reached the bottom of the hill and was able to break. Right?

Wrong.

Instead, I decided to go all evil canevil and I jumped off of my bike, thinking I would land softly on the ground.

Unfortunately, this was not the case. Instead of landing on the ground, I landed right smack dab, face-first....into a tree....

Yes.

A tree.

I. Am. Brilliant.

1.So I had been at my current job for about 3 months when I had to resort to calling them one morning to let them know I was going to be a bit late. When asking me why, I reluctantly answered that I was lost....

Yes. Lost.

On the way to work.

At a job I had been working at for 3 months.

Lost.....

But let me explain. I had gotten up extra early to go by the post office and took a different route. I thought I knew where I was going and ended up in a while different county....

It was sad.

Very sad indeed.

Top 10's!

2009-06-28T11:45:00.003-04:00

I am going to randomly start posting lists of top 10's! It's going to be a mixture of things, from moments to movies to music to whatever. Hope you all enjoy! Leave comments and feedback along the way if you would like! Or if you have any ideas of your own, I would love to hear them! (Read them?:)

LOL Pets!

2009-06-26T22:19:00.013-04:00

I love my pets! So much in fact that I have spent 2 hours creating these "Lol pics" of each and every one of them.

Yes, this is the kind of thing I do in my spare time.... Sad? Maybe...but I love to get a good laugh and this was free!!!!

Cutest. Pets. Ever.

Did I give you my debit card?

2009-06-25T16:16:00.003-04:00

Everyone who knows me well enough knows that I have my own idea of what organization is. There could be a pile of papers on the floor somewhere and to an innocent bystander, they could very well appear to be in disarray. However, in my world, this would not be the case. just because they look that way, does not mean I don't know what's there. They are all organized according to whatever system I see fit at the time.

This being said, there are several things that I often "misplace" and have a tendency to run around the house looking for. Andrew laughs at my morning ritual as I run up and down the stairs trying to find each of these things before leaving for work. The list includes, but is not limited to:

My keys
My sunglasses
The current book I'm reading
My phone
And.....
My debit card

I know. I know. It would make more sense to set everything out the night before and have a special place where all of these things are located so that I'm not running around every morning, rushing to get to work on time. But that's not how I function....apparently.

The last item in this list (aka my debit card) I am constantly "losing" via placing it in my back pocket and it getting washed in the washer, placing it in my purse and it somehow getting stuck in the little notebook I carry, ect. ect, ect.

I try to put it right back in my wallet where it belongs...really I do. It just doesn't always happen. And most of the time, I'm really lucky because I find it right away. No worries. Ahem...notice, I said "most of the time".

So as many of you already know, Andrew and I went to Vermont last year. We left early one morning and drove straight through. Upon arriving, we drove through the small town of Bennington, VT in order to get to the place we were staying in Wilmington, VT. Needless to say, when we saw this little town, we couldn't wait to explore it. It had all of these cute, little shops, and beautiful churches and a monument. And I was also extremely excited to find out that it houses the cemetery where Robert Frost is buried. So cool!!!

So it was decided. The next morning, we would get up and drive to Bennington to further explore it. That morning we set out. We walked across the street and ate at the little bakery. We sat on the porch and watched the little town come alive. It had been drizzling a little but once we had finished our muffins, hot tea and coffee (delicious!), it had stopped. We decided to start our journey into Bennington.

Once we arrived, we sat in the car briefly to make sure we had everything we needed. I distinctly remembered getting my debit card out of my wallet and putting it in my back pocket so I wouldn't have to carry my purse. We had our sunglasses. Andrew had his wallet. We were all set. We got out of the car and I turned around to laugh at my crumby parallel parking (I blame it on the fact that I'm too short to see how far I am from the curb...), and we started walking towards the cemetery.

We were standing on the corner of the street, waiting for the bird to chirp on the "walk" sign and I instinctively placed my hand in my back pocket.

"Uh oh."

Andrew looked at me, "What?"

"Did I give you my debit card?"

"No....why?"

"I can't find it....Oh shit. It's our first day and I've already lost it!! What are we going to do? What if it fell out of the car when we got out? What if someone already found it and is using it right now?What...."

"Calm down. Let's just go back to the car and look for it."

And so we did. We looked inside the car. We looked inside my purse. We looked underneath the car. On top of the car. Underneath the car parked behind us. Under the seats again. We looked everywhere. And...

Nothing.

I just sat there in the driver's seat with a solemn look on my face. We were hundreds of miles away from home and had no access to half the money we had saved for this trip. Needless to say...

We were screwed.

But Andrew, oh sweet and loving man that he is, didn't panic. He remained calm through it all. (Let me just say this is one of the things I love the most about our relationship. When one person is down, the other is right there beside them, helping to keep them up.) We sat in silence. And looked out at the little town we had yet to explore.

I started to panic and began flipping the car seats up and back down, looking through every nook and cranny and then....

"AHA!!!!" I exclaimed.

"What? What?? Did you find it?"

"Oh sorry...no. I just found the other pair of sunglasses I lost last year. They were under the seat..."

He just looked at me....

"What?"

So we continued to look. And look and look.....AND......

"Oh! There is a God!!! Thank you Thank you Thank you Lord!!!!!"

"What? Did you find something else you lost?"

"No! I found it! I found it! It was between the seats the whole time! And you were worried that I lost it! See, I knew I would find it. No big deal. Right?"

Silence....

"Andrew....?"

He just stared at me for a moment and then said only one thing: "You are never ever ever allowed to take out your debit card other than to buy something and then you are to put it right back in your wallet. Agreed?"

"Ok." I said "Agreed."....."Yea! Now we can start our vacation!!!"

He just smiled at me. "I love you." he said.

"I love you back. "

Sigh. This is why we work. And it was the best. vacation. EVER!!!

Me after Andrew told me I couldn't take my debit card out of my wallet. (Hee hee. Notice how far away from the curb I am:)

Congratulations: You're a Woman.

2009-06-25T12:18:00.002-04:00

Being a young girl of 11 or 12, it is often too embarrassing to discuss certain topics with your parents, especially your dad because he's a "boy" and he just couldn't possibly understand what your going through.

My dad has always had his own approach on things which in retrospect is why we get along so well. For example, when I was little, I would often have nightmares about "woofs" (aka wolves) and this would on most occasions land me smack dab in the middle of my parent's bed, spread out as far as I could be leaving the two of them very little room to get a decent night's sleep. I imagine that this soon grew to be a problem in their world.

One night, I had had a particularly disturbing dream about the "woofs". I remember waking up and being too scared to pry myself out from underneath the covers to make the long journey across the hall to get to my parent's room where safety awaited me. Every little noise was too loud and I swear that there was something else in that room with me when the lights were off. I looked over and there was a huge dark figure staring at me from across the room. (Obviously a "woof"). Once I did finally make it to my parent's room (don't ask me how for I have cleansed the frightening moment from my memory), they lead me back into my room and turned the light on.

There I was, standing in between them holding both of their hands, staring at the figure that had been glowering at me in the dark. It turned out to be a chair with a bunch of clothes on it. As hard as I tried to convince them, my parents would not believe that the scary monster thing had replaced itself with this chair and clothing and would most definitely be back looming at me once I was in bed all alone with the light off.

They stared at me with the sweetness of a tired set of parents wanting to help their scared child, but not quite sure how to explain the imagined "things that go bump in the night".

It was here that my daddy knelt down beside me and asked me what my bad dreams were about. I proceeded to tell him about the scary "woofs" and how they would chase me and I could never run fast enough. He then asked me if I remembered watching the old movies that he always watched about the mummy and Frankenstein and the wolf man.(He was sure to leave out Dracula because he knew my dreaded fear of vampires and sharp fangs...)

I thought he was being silly. Of course I remembered those old movies. Those times with my daddy, nuzzled up underneath his arm with my head on his chest, eating popcorn were some of my most favorite-est moments ever!

I looked up at his big, smiling daddy eyes and said "Mmmhmmm. I remember."

"Well." He said. "Those guys are friends of mine and they have promised to protect this house and everyone who lives in it. If you see them in your dreams, they aren't there to scare you, they are there to take care of you."

This obviously made so much sense to my 3 year old mind. And this was the beginning of being able to sleep a full night in my room all by myself, with the exceptional occasion of super scary bad dreams that even my "protectors" couldn't drive the fear away. It was these nights I landed back into my parent's bedroom.

So all this being said. From the time I was little, my dad and I always had a special bond. But then the day came when something happened that I could only talk to my mom about. It was something horrible. Something life-changing. Something so totally gross and embarrassing. Something daddy couldn't fix.

Yep. You guessed it. It was my period.

Ew! Oh no! What do I do? All these thoughts plummeting in my head. Mom was at work and I was stuck. I did the best I could with toilet paper but from there I was lost. My stomach hurt. I couldn't tell if I was hungry or if I was going to throw up. It was the worst. day ever.

I told dad I wasn't feeling well and went to bed at 2 in the afternoon. My mom got home a few hours later and came in to check on me.

"Dad said you weren't feeling well. Are you ok?"

I just stared at her. Surely she would notice this huge change in me just by looking at me. Surely she would know that I'm a freak now and that my life was over.

But she just looked at me.

I stared back.

She stared back.

I couldn't say it out loud. It was too horrible.

I sat there holding my stomach and she finally figured it out. (Hello! Wasn't it obvious?...my poor mom...). She tried to comfort me and tell me that it was normal and that I wasn't dying and that this was a good thing. Blah blah blah.

I begged her not to tell Dad or Pat. All I needed was my older brother to point and laugh and make me feel like even more of a weirdo. And she finally convinced me to come out of my room and face eating dinner.

She left to give me some space and after a few minutes, I convinced myself that I was pretty hungry. She didn't notice so surely dad and Pat wouldn't notice. Because they're boys and they're oblivious....

I slowly walked out of my room and down the hall to the kitchen. I kept telling myself not to make eye contact with anyone. I would just act like nothing happened and everything would be fine. I would eat dinner and then go back to bed.

And then it happened. Suddenly my dad was standing beside me with his hand out like he was going to shake mine. I looked at him blankly, then stared at his hand. Then he said the dreaded words:

"Congratulations. You're a woman."

I. Could. Have. Died.

I looked at my mom who was trying not to laugh, "You told! I can't believe you told!"

I was mortified! As we all stood there in silence. Someone uttered a chuckle. Then another chuckle came. Then another. Someone was laughing. And that someone....

was me.

It wasn't so bad of a thing after all and I did live through it. (Dramatically...but I lived). But not without the help of my dad's weird child-rearing technique. He was (and still is) always doing stuff like that. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Once a Daddy's little girl, always a Daddy's little girl.

Windows. Eating Disorders. And. Bloody Noses

2009-06-25T10:31:00.002-04:00

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."- Eleanor Roosevelt

Keeping this famous quote in mind, I was 17 and a senior in high school when my boyfriend at the time, a freshmen (I know! That should have been my first clue!) told me that he thought I was chubby. Being a girl of that age and never really having a self-esteem, of course I believed him.

So I stopped eating. But he loved me and he was just looking out for me. These were only a few of the excuses I offered up to all the true friends I had when they kept telling me he was no good for me and that they were worried about me.

Donald was a very jealous guy. I couldn't even look at any of my guy friends around him, let alone talk to them. He would get so upset and make me feel like I was a slut. I remember one time when we were in band class and a friend of mine (a guy) was making faces at me so I jokingly made a face back. I turned around and Donald was staring bullets at me. It actually made me cringe. After class, he later told me that he didn't want me talking to this friend of mine anymore. I was so torn. John had been a friend of mine for several years and I wasn't about to let go of that friendship...but I loved Donald and he loved me, so what was I supposed to do?

My friends continued to worry about me as they watched my self-esteem deteriorate along with what little extra pounds I had to lose. But I still stuck by this guy because "he was all I had". this was the beginning of a long series of guys who treated me badly. He was one of many who was very disturbed and need help. And of course me being someone who likes to solve people's problems, wanted to reach out and help and "fix" him. I was constantly reaching out to losers like this who refused to accept that they need help and thrived on making those who cared about them miserable. In fact, it's not until somewhat recently that I stopped trying to fix everything and realized that it is not my job to solve everyone's problems. Though, I have to admit, I do still struggle at times.

There was a time in Donald's and my relationship where I was beginning to see and feel all of the things that everyone else had seen and felt at the beginning. But I felt trapped. I didn't know how to end it on a positive note and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. So I did what every teenage girl does when she's in a bind...I tried breaking up with him over the phone. This way, I didn't have to see his pain and I didn't risk the chance of feeling so guilty and losing my courage to end it.

I'm not exactly sure how it happened. But as I tried to break up with him over the phone, he began saying horrible things that I have sense forgotten and made me feel like the guilty party. By the end of the conversation, I was begging for his forgiveness and asking him to take me back. He refused unless I could find some way to make it up to him. It was late. And I remember that my Dad was still up. He took one look at me with the phone clutched in my hand and tears streaking down my face and I could see the hurt in his eyes. It wasn't until later that I understood what he was hurting over. I asked him if it would be ok if I went over to Donald's house for a little while because we had had a fight and I needed to talk to him face to face. Reluctantly, my Dad said "ok" and told me to give Donald a message from him "he owes me".

I got in my car and dialed Donald's number on my cell phone and told him I was on the way. He then proceeded to tell me to park at the end of his long drive way so that his parent's wouldn't see my car. I asked him if he could meet me because it was dark and I was scared to walk alone. He said:

"No."

I thought I deserved that so I drove to his house. Parked the car at the end of the drive and walked the long distance to get to his house. I knew he wouldn't want me to come in the front door so I went to his bedroom window and knocked. He opened it and helped me in, saying something about how I felt a little heavy. The only other thing I remember about that night is how hard I was crying and how mean he looked and how much I begged for him to take me back. I don't remember how long I was there or what he said exactly but I do remember crawling back out of the window and waling back to my car. Alone. But still having a boyfriend.

Pathetic. Right? Yeah. I know. But I was a different person then and it took me a long time to grow out of that.

Donald and I dated for several more months and he continues to tell me he didn't approve of my friends and notice my flaws. When the time arose for the annual senior party, I was so excited about getting all dressed up and going to a dance, but he told me I couldn't go with anyone. Him being a freshmen, he wasn't allowed to go. He almost talked me out of going at all, but my friends wouldn't have it. I remember being there and dancing and having so much fun. One of my really good friends at the time, his name was Brent, told me how pretty I looked and made the effort to call Donald to let him know that I looked so nice and that I wished he was there to dance with me. Of course Donald took it the wrong way, but at the point I didn't care. I wasn't going to let anyone ruin this special night. So I danced. And I had fun. But something in me still felt guilty. Something clicked.

This isn't normal. This has to stop.

I don't remember the gory details. But I do remember that it was a struggle getting rid of Donald. I did finally break up with him a few months after the senior party and suddenly it was him meeting me at my locker, begging for his forgiveness. It was suddenly him who was sitting kneeled down beside me at the lunch table I always sat at, telling me how it looked like I had lost more weight.

One afternoon. I was getting ready to leave when I turned around and he was there. Crying and throwing a fit. I told him to leave me alone and then I noticed that his nose was gushing blood. I freaked out and got him a lot of tissue and sat with him until it stopped. At this point, he had missed his bus so I offered to drive him home. It was impossible for me to separate myself from him completely because for some strange reason, I still wanted to help him. I still wanted to be there for him, even if he had never been there for me. This was something I struggled with every day.

Then I broke. I don't know what did it exactly but I had had enough. I had kept my calm for too long and he had crossed the line.

It was a normal day. i was sitting at lunch with my friends when he came up to me and sat on the floor beside me. I tried to ignore him but he continued to sit there and taunt me. I told him to go away and we would talk later and yet he stayed. The bell rang. I got up to throw my trash away and he followed me. I started walking faster to get away from him and he continued to pick up speed. I stopped. Turned around and suddenly had a voice.

"WHAT!!!! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME!!!!?!!!"

The whole lunch room grew quiet and everyone was staring. But it was just me and him. This was our fight.

"I HATE YOU!" He yelled.

"GOOD!!! MAYBE NOW YOU"LL START LEAVING ME ALONE!!!" I walked away and didn't look back. No longer was I going to allow this guy to make me feel sorry for him or to make me feel guilty for things that were not my fault. I was done and I wasn't going to do it any more. More importantly,

I was free.

He knew I was done. And he just stopped. He stopped meeting me at my locker. He stopped following me. he stopped talking to me. He stopped.

And I lived on and made it through. My first life lesson that love isn't always fairytales and day dreams. Sometimes love is a whole different meaning. A whole different word that hasn't been found yet. Sometimes love is unexplainable. And you just have to let it go.

Floating the Boat

2009-06-25T09:24:00.002-04:00

I have never been the "popular girl". Nor have I ever really wanted to be. I always kind of fit in wherever, making friends as I went along. I was in the band so a lot o my friends were also in the band...and yes I guess that would make me what most would call a "band geek"...should you want to put a label on it. And I guess I should go ahead and say too that the handful of friends I did have in high school were mostly boys. No...I'm not and never have been a slut. I just get along better with guys. Always have. They don't hold grudges and they are far less dramatic than most girls I know. (Though I can think of a few exceptions....).

One of my best friends in high school was a guy who at one time I would have considered dating. Ok, let's be honest, we did go out on one date and I thought it was great and awesome and oh he's so wonderful and oh my God he kissed me!!!.....but he never called me again that summer and totally lead me on...the little rat. So needless to say. We tried. It didn't work out and we would have killed each other anyway now that I think about it. We were always destined to be friends and I think we are both happy to say that we have kept that friendship going since we were in 6th grade. From here on out, we will call him Jon.

So Jon and I would randomly hang out at least once every other week or so. He would show up at my house (un-invited) sometimes when I wasn't even there. I would walk in and there he would be, sitting on my couch, talking to my Dad. But I loved it. It's just how we were. Completely random. We never really had a plan. We would just go with the flow....and it didn't always include being involved in something that was....let's just say it...legal.

For instance. One night Jon called me up to see what I was doing, which was nothing, and asked me if I wanted to hang out. He was meeting two of our other mutual friends (another John and Shaun...confused yet?:) ....Yes, both boys), and they wanted to know if I was up to tagging along. Of course I said "sure! Why not?"

I got ready and met them in the food lion parking lot right down the road. This is where we parked. Then we started walking.... I started thinking to myself. They seem to know where they are going and have yet to inform me of this small, apparently unimportant detail....perhaps I should ask. But wait. We're headed towards the high school...no wait why are we turning? This is a...oh jeez.....this is a cometary!

"Um." I said in my small voice.

No one heard me and in fact, they began to pick up their pace. Mutual friend John grabbed my hand and drug me along.

Weird....

I began looking all around me as I continued to follow these 3 idiots through the creepy graveyard. What was that? Oh my God? We're going to die or get killed and we're already surrounded by dead people!!! These were just a few of the thoughts running through my mind. One other thought that kept breaking through went something like this.....

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok. Now that that's out of the way. I was noticing that it was starting to get dark. So here we were. At a cemetery. Walking/running to who knows where...oh yeah. They do! And they aren't telling me ANYTHING! And Mutual friend John is still holding my hand (what's up with that?) but I'm too afraid to let go....Then we stopped.

"We're here." Jon said.

"Where?" my meek little voice exclaimed. Then I saw them. Coffins. Empty coffins. I began to ask, "What are we...." when I heard it. Water. Running water. I turned my head and alas. There it was. The french broad river. I didn't have time to think before I realized that I was helping Jon push one of the empty coffins towards the river. Jon and Shaun were already in theirs ready to take off.

You might ask yourself at this point, why did you go with them Mary if you were so scared and had no idea you were going to be doing this in the first place and isn't that illegal and blah blah blah. Well, I will now answer your these very reasonable questions with the same answer I gave myself when asking them to myself.....

There is no way in hell that I am running BY MYSELF back through this creepy graveyard, in the dark, with no flash light, having no idea where the road is because I'm lost, listening to all of the creepy dead people moan around me, envisioning scenes from Michael Jackson's thriller while zombies plan to attack me....at any rate. Prison has to be better than any of those thoughts. I'm sticking with the boys on this one....

And somehow through all of this "logical" thinking. I looked around and found that everything was moving quickly around me. I looked in front of me and there was Jon grinning. I looked down and there I was. Sitting. In a coffin. Floating. Down the french broad river.

At this moment in time, Jon thought it would be so super funny to start rocking the coffin back and forth and send me into hysterics. But then I started to laugh. It was actually kinda fun. And who was going to catch us anyway? I mean, who else knows about this place and it's dark and nobody's out this time of night and wait....are those lights up ahead? What's that noise?

Jon and the other two in the "boat" floating beside us seemed to notice about the same time I did. It seemed that there was construction going on at the building across from the river and the lights we were seeing were those shining on the building and illuminating from the construction worker's helmets. This would not have been a big deal if it hadn't of been the exact spot where we were planning to "dock" the boat per say. There was no way we were going to be able to do this without anyone seeing us...which meant we needed to get out now because we were picking up speed with the current and fastly approaching our only other option.

So Jon frantically started "steering" the coffin towards the side of the river so we could jump out. In all honesty, I'm not sure how he made this happen but we still didn't make it fast enough. Under the bridge we went and we were closely approaching the bright lights. We did however make it to "shore" and managed to drag one of the coffins out of the water...the other one didn't make it and continued to float down the river.

We stayed low to the ground to prevent anyone from seeing the 4 kids that mysteriously came out of the french broad. Once we got our bearings we realized that we were right across the street from the parking lot that held our nice, safe cars. Please understand, when I say, "right across the street", I really mean across 4 lanes of oncoming traffic. So we did the only thing we could do.....we ran! we ran hard and fast and we didn't look back.

The only thought in my head during this moment was next time I hang out with these guys, I am NOT wearing flip-flops.....

But we made it. We made it safely back to our cars and I looked at my loving friend Jon and said these three little words.

I. Hate. You.

He looked at me and grinned. I snarled at him and ordered him to take me home. From that day on, I was sure to ask him before hanging out with him, "Where are we going?"

Mama Dot

2009-06-25T08:17:00.002-04:00

I woke up the morning of my grandmother's funeral hours before I was to be picked up by my brother and sister-in-law. I wanted to give myself plenty of time to make myself presentable. Most importantly, I wanted to look beautiful for her.

I got up, and in a zombie-like state, went through the motions of showering, drying and straightening my hair and placing it in a perfect bun at the nape of my neck. I then went through the, let's be honest, not so daily routine of applying make-up and covering up all of the imperfections. I then went to my closet and selected the only pair of dress slacks I own and a nice shirt to wear with them and laid them out on the bed. I stared at them scrutinizing their very being. Was this really happening? How did all of this time pass so quickly?

In thinking of this, I was suddenly back on her couch watching soap operas with her and taking in the scent of her freshly noxema'd face. She was sitting in her chair filing her nails and I was watching her every move. I was maybe 7 at the time and then and there I vowed to grow up to be as beautiful as she was.

She was flawless. I can't remember a time when she didn't have her lipstick on. Even if she was only walking around in her house coat and intricate slippers, her face and nails were always made up. Hair perfectly in place with bobby pins placed accordingly to hide any thinning that she didn't want anyone to notice.

I loved hearing stories of when her and my grandfather, Daddy Bo would go out dancing and to night clubs. They loved vacationing and going out for drinks. They were very popular indeed.

We called her Mama Dot because she didn't want the word "grandmother" to be associated with her. Not because she was resentful, but because she had this horrible fear of getting older and losing that beauty that everyone always complimented her on. To me, she was always beautiful and I never quite understood why she couldn't continue to see that as the years passed.

In all honesty, I always felt a little awkward around her. I was more so a tom-boy than a princess though I did enjoy dressing up and playing with dolls too. However, if you gave me the chance to climb a tree or play in the mud, I was right there in the middle of all of it, getting dirty and ragged and feeling anything but beautiful.....

One day, sitting on her couch and playing cards, she told me she had something for me. She got up and went to her bedroom to get it. I remember sitting there in anticipation. What could it be? I was so excited!! She came back and placed something small and shiny in my tiny hand. I looked at it and there before me was the most beautiful bracelet I had ever seen. I had no words. I just looked at her in awe. She then proceeded to tell me that it was a tennis bracelet and all the little shiny jewels in it were diamonds. She gave me a chance at beauty that day.

So as I was still staring at my clothes, I suddenly remembered that I still have that bracelet. And in that moment, finding it and placing it on my wrist was the most important task of that morning. I ran to my jewelry box which contains mostly old hair-ties and costume jewelry from Halloween party's that have come and gone. I opened one of the little drawers and there it was. Still so shiny. Still so beautiful. The perfect symbol of how I always viewed her.

Suddenly, I had all the confidence I needed to put on the clothes I had selected. I slipped on my little, black ballet flats (yet another tribute to her) and applied just a little more lipstick that i had found shoved somewhere in the bottom of a drawer. I looked in the mirror....and sighed.

When we got to the grave site later on that day. It hadn't completely hit me until I saw her coffin. It was blue, her favorite color. Not just any blue. It was what I would call "Mama Dot Blue". It was perfect and I began to cry.

Everything else is kind of a blur, but I remember hearing several people talking and feeling as though they were staring at me throughout the service. Later I found out why.

It appears that everyone knew upon seeing me get out of the car, that I was her granddaughter. Later on that day, several people came up to give me a hug and exclaim, "you look so much like her. She was so beautiful. Like a movie star."

These words, more than any other that was said to me that day, helped more than I could have ever thought. I'm not being vain. It just meant so much to hear people say how much I looked like her when all I ever wanted as a little girl was to be and look just like my Mama Dot.

We get older with each day. Some of us don't even notice. Mama Dot was a woman who did notice, but in my opinion, took it with grace . I don't think she ever fully knew how truly beautiful she was, both inside and out. She never gave herself enough credit and I wish, more than anything, that I could tell her now how she always inspired me. It is my hope that she knew this.

When the long day was over, I happened to glance down at my wrist that held the bracelet that she had given me so many years ago. Somehow it seemed even shinier. Perhaps it was just the way the light from the street lights outside were shining on it through the car window. But I can't help but wonder if this was her way of telling me she did know how I felt.

I looked up at the sky that night and instead of seeing the one lonely brightest star up in the sky, I saw two equally bright stars shining down on us. Daddy Bo had died almost 10 years before and I know he had been waiting patiently for the day when they would be together again. So I will leave the two of you with this simple statement:

Dance Mama Dot and Daddy Bo. Dance your hearts out and thrive in being young again. Most importantly, know that we all love and miss you so much.

Until we meet again....dance.

Dentist...(aka Hell in a chair)

2009-05-11T08:00:00.002-04:00

Now I remember why it took me so long to go back to the dentist. It had been several years (I won't reveal exactly how many because it makes me feel gross...but it was too long...I'll put it that way.)

But now I finally have insurance and the kind I have actually assigns me a dentist in my area and I can always change it if for some reason I'm not satisfied with the service. But let's be honest here. Who in their right mind would be satisfied with someone constantly poking and prodding in your mouth for a solid hour? So here is what I remember of my near death experience. (Note: I say remember because I'm 99.9% positive that there was a time that I might have blacked out...)

So being the somewhat OCD person that I am. I printed the directions on how to get to the dentist office before hand. In doing so, I was informed that my dentist office is only about 5 minutes away from my house. I had an entire hour before I had to be there and I was already getting antsy. So I decided to go by the bank and target really quickly before my appointment.

I'm not really sure what I was thinking because every time I hit Target's parking lot, it's like my I.Q. starts decreasing in numbers. I walk around like a zombie looking at all of the pretty, shiny stuff all neatly aligned on each shelve. And suddenly several minutes have gone by and more things are in my cart than were on my list to begin with. I look at my watch and it's already 10:45. My appointment is at 11.

Crap! I've got to go!!! But I should still be fine, I think to myself. Because it takes 5 minutes from my house to get there and I'm already closer than if I were leaving from there. I should actually still make it a few minutes early right?

Wrong...

I forgot to take into account one minor thing. I never ever ever do well with directions. It' doesn't matter how simple they are. I always manage to screw up at least once. In this particular instance...I missed the damn turn not once, not twice but yes...3 times. But let me explain.

So I'm driving down Glenwood, a road I am actually becoming more and more familiar with the longer I live here and I'm watching very carefully all the numbers go by. I'm looking for 9104. I watch the 8000's go by. The numbers are going up so I know I'm going the right direction. (I have to pat myself on the back for this one, because there have been occasions of which I was going the complete opposite direction than I should have been and didn't realize it until I was 45 minute's out and had to turn back around.)Me + directions = very very stupid. I blame my father for this......

So anyway. I reach the 9000's. I'm getting close and it's only 10:52! Yea me! Wait...did that just say 9200? but I'm looking for 9104...how did I miss...? Oh well, maybe it was on the other side of the street and I didn't see it? So I go down a bit further until I find a place where I can turn around. I turn around and realize that the office must be on the side of the street I was originally looking for it on because the numbers on this side are odd numbers. Ok. I just missed it. I make a U-turn and am going the right direction once again. It's 10:56. Ok, I still have time... the numbers 9106 catch my attention.

Damnit! How did I miss it again? Where the hell is this place? Maybe this is a sign that I shouldn't go...how did I end up back on the interstate...did I even start out on the interstate? It's 11:02.

I get back on the road I need to be on and I make several turns into shopping centers to see if I've somehow missed this place because it was hidden within one of them. I haven't. So I turn back onto Glenwood. And just when I was about to turn around for a forth time, give up and go home, I spotted it! I turned my steering wheel sharply, squealed my tires and somehow landed in a parking space in front of the building 9104. I look at the clock. It's 11:08. Oh well. At least I made it right?

I look around me and notice that the building is a bit dingy. There are some construction workers hanging around outside and they are staring at me. I don't make eye contact and get out of my car. It's then that I notice the sign hanging above the door of what must be a bunch of offices within one building. The sign says "Asian Mart".

This confuses me because I am not Asian. Ideas begin to run through my head that I am not supposed to be here. So I go back and sit in my car. The construction workers are still eying me. What's up with that? I sit there for a couple more minutes. Now I'm really late and it would just be too rude to show up now right? I can always reschedule.

But I know myself too well. I knew that if I didn't get out of the car right then and there, it would take me another several months to finally get up the nerve to schedule another appointment.

Suck it in Mary. Ok. I'm going in.

I walk into the building and make several turns until I reach my destination. When I walk in, several eyes behind the front desk look up at me. I apologize for being late and the lady hands me some forms to fill out and I give her my insurance card. I sit down, expecting to wait, because you always have to wait at the dentist right? Then I hear it.

A lady's voice says "Mary Short?"

I look up cautiously and know....

It is time.

She walks me back to a small room where the dreaded chair awaits me. I don't sit in it until she gestures for me too. To break the silence, I apologize once again for being late.

She asks me about a tooth I had specified on one of the forms. And I explain to her how it gets hot and cold sometimes with certain foods or if I'm drinking something cold. I tell her it feels like a cavity. She takes a look and pokes it with her probe-y thingie.

"Does that hurt?"

She is unaware of this but I am literally screaming in my head.

"A little." I whisper.

She then informs me that it's not a cavity but only some enamel loss. And then she starts to take x-rays of my mouth. This procedure has changed a little in the past _ years. I don't remember this scary plastic thing that they place in your mouth along with the x-ray film. All I can think to myself is, "Is this thing sterile? And how many mouths has she put this same contraption in?"

She starts jamming the film in my mouth, exclaiming "Oh you have a tiny mouth!" Giggle giggle giggle. Jam JAm JAM!!! I could kill her. All I have to do is reach behind me and grab her little probe and Jam JAm JAM!!!

I was getting used to the x-rays until the last two when she points the scary laser beam tube in front of my face. Am I supposed to close my eyes I think to myself. Why does she get to go behind the wall?

Ok. X-rays are done. Phew. Now she's attaching a bib to my shirt and sitting down beside me instruments in hand. She pokes my sore tooth again...

I swear to God, I will rip that thing out of your hands so fast.....

Ok, she's moved on. Things are starting to go a bit more smoothly until she reaches my bottom incisors...

"Ow Ow Ow!!!!" I scream in my head.

"You've got a bit of tarter build up down here. This might be a little sore."

"No shit. Really?"

Pick pick pick. All I can think of is fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.Pick pick pick. "You are being such a trooper." Giggle Giggle.

Really....?

I'm trying to go to my happy place so I'm tuning into the music on the radio and then. Oh no. Dear God no. Are you kidding me? Nope. This experience is destined to be a nightmare. Screaming at me from the speakers is none other than, you guessed it,

The Rascall Flatts.....

Shoot me. Just shoot me now.

Pick Pick Pick. Ok seriously? I thought we were done with that tooth and established the fact that it hurts!!

Oh yea! She's getting out the polish! That means I'm almost done right?

Slowest. Polisher. Ever.

And as I'm sitting there, I'm trying to remember if it's ok to swallow. I mean. What happens if I swallow a big chunk of bacteria and it seeps down into my internal organs and I die. Right here. In this dreaded dentist chair? Oh God. I'm going to die! I'll never see my friends and family again. I'll never get to march down the isle in my pretty wedding dress. Oh God....

I"M GOING TO DIE LISTENING TO RASCALL FLATTS!!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I think this might have been where I blacked out. (Not really, but I mine as well have. ) I don't remember much more after this. But suddenly, miss goody two shoes was done and she was calling in the dentist to double check behind her.

And then I hear his voice. Wait. Is that? Oh for the love of everything Holy. It sounds just like Jon Lovitz.

(For those of you who need a footnote here...I can't stand Jon Lovitz. Who thinks he's funny? I mean really....).

"Jon" asks me how I'm doing and I stare blankly. The hygienist has to speak up for me and tell him about my tooth. He opens my mouth again to take a look and...

Ow Ow Ow!!! Poke poke poke. "Yeah. That's just some enamel loss. It's not a cavity."

Ok, hadn't we already established that?

He takes a look at the rest of my mouth and exclaims that my gums might be a little sore for the next couple of days.

You think?

And then he says the blessed words I'd been waiting for. "Ok. You're all set!"

Oh happy day! I could have hugged him and danced out of the office singing "The Hills Are Alive!" I was so happy. I hadn't died. My life was not over. I made it I made it!!! Yea me! It wasn't so bad really. I mean, it was a little uncomfortable but nothing too horrific. Why was I so scared?

I'm literally singing in my head once I hit the parking lot and grab my keys to get back in my car and go home. But there is something in my hand that I hadn't noticed before.

Somehow between the time "Jon" gave me the ok to go and the time I got back to my car, I had done what the little card in my hand told me I knew couldn't be true. I wouldn't right? I mean. Why would I do that to myself? How did they get me to agree....? Oh no! What am I going to do?

You guessed it...

I have another dentist appointment in 6 months.....

Please Don't Go Girl

2009-04-12T08:54:00.006-04:00

My brother Pat and I kinda had a love/hate relationship going on when we were younger. It ranged from him randomly throwing tennis balls at my face to give me bloody noses and me getting fed up with it so I hit over the head with a cabbage patch kid, to if any of his friends made fun of me or upset me in any way, he would make it known very quickly that that wasn't allowed.

One of my fondest memories is when for my 9th birthday, he surprised me and lip-synced "Please Don't Go Girl" by New Kids on the Block. I can't think of very many 12 year old boys who would want to do that for his little sister on her birthday. This memory was brought up once again at his wedding when he surprised me again and had it played so we could dance to it. (Incest as it may seem. It was really sweet and meant a lot:).

There were many days growing up that we had no friends over to play, we only had each other. So we would spend these days building forts out of couch cushions and running around the yard playing Dr. Who. (My dad and the influences he brought upon us:).

At Christmas time, it was tradition for us to set up a little "movie theater" in the living room (which consisted of my dolls and stuffed animals sitting in little chairs) and watch Christmas shows and movies for hours and hours on end.

He came to all of my dance recitals and I went to all of his baseball games. And though it was never said out loud that we actually wanted to do these things, I truly believe that was the case. It wasn't as though our parents dragged us to these events. It was just common knowledge that we would go and that it wouldn't be so bad.

We genuinely cared for each other, even at such young ages. There is a running gag in my family about how I broke his arm...which I guess if you think about it, it's technically true because I was the cause. However, hear me out. We were taking turns jumping off of his bed and it was his turn. He deliberately told me not to jump out in his way because he was going to make a big jump! Me being stubborn and not always willing to do what I was told, of course jumped out right when he was jumping. He tried to maneuver in a way to avoid hitting me, therefore landing on my foot (adorned with purple jellies:) and landing on his arm in the wrong way. It's not like I did it on purpose. I was just being stubborn (as usual...a trend that I have still yet to outgrow.)

It was all of these things that planted the core of our relationship. And I have always considered myself lucky to have a big brother that I actually get along with. The older we got, the more our relationship started to change. We were no longer just brother and sister, but friends. This was such a huge deal to me. I could talk to him about anything and he would confide in me as well. In fact, I was one of the only people he would confide in.

One of my favorite memories during this time was when we were both in college (him at NC State and me at UNC-Wilmington). I drove down to meet him for dinner and we had to wait for like 2 hours before we were served. So we sat out in the parking lot and talked, actually talked about everything. I remember going home that weekend and feeling so relieved that I had such a wonderful friend in my brother.

For whatever reason, things began to turn not too long after that. We were both going through some rough times and never really sat down with each other to discuss what was really going on in our lives. We drifted apart. Things were said on both ends that were mean and hurtful. And in thinking about this time in our lives, it still hurts me tremendously. I knew I would always have him as a brother, but my greatest fear was that I would forever lose him as a friend. We were both, not only growing up, but growing apart. And we were having a really hard time trying to meet each other in the middle.

I personally was lost and in too deep. Not sure if I was able to pull myself back out of the decisions I had made, not that I ever regret these decisions because I'm a firm believer that it is part of what got me where I am today. I don't like it. And it's not fair, especially to everyone else who was involved. But I can't change it. As much as I wish I could when it comes to everyone else's feelings, that's the only regret I have.

There is no need to dig back into these memories to make my point which is this and only this. We managed to fight through it. And though it took some time to get there, we made it and we are closer today than we have ever been. We have each other back and that's what really matters. No. We can't change the past. The only thing we can do is accept it. And I think it's safe to say that we're both ok with doing that.

I love you Patch and I'm so very proud to have you in my life, not because I have to have you there. But because I want you there and because you have become one of my best friends again. Thank you. (Hopefully this thanks needs no explanation.)

Confession (and I'm not even catholic:)

2009-04-11T23:18:00.002-04:00

I have a confession to make.....I want to flaunt my happiness!!!! Is that really such a bad thing? Why do I have this constant fear that I'm going to offend somebody if I'm always wanting to talk about how happy I am with things in my life right now. I mean, I should be happy, right? I have a wonderful family and we all actually, not only love, but LIKE each other. That's a big deal! And I'm so happy and in love that sometimes it hurts because I just feel like I'm going to burst! I'm no longer frustrated because the person I'm with isn't communicating well enough or because I don't trust him or whatever....I actually get frustrated because I can't stress enough how in love I am without using the same expressions and wording over and over again. It's like, there are no words that can truly display the love and affection and friendship we hold and cherish with each other.

So why is it that I sometimes find myself feeling guilty in certain company? Maybe it's because I know what it feels like to always be sad. I don't like to think about it. And I don't ever want to go back to that time of my life, even in memory. But I am sympathetic to those who can't seem to find whatever it is they're searching for in life, whether it be friendship, love or God, or all of the above.

It's like we're cursed to have this constant need for searching for that something that we can't even begin to define. And sometimes it's right there. Right in front of your face screaming at you. I used to think that everybody can find happiness if they search hard enough within themselves, even though there was a time when I can honestly say I had completely lost hope. But it's hope that holds a person together. And it's this same hope that saves so many of us from falling off the deep end completely. But some people give up.

I guess that's why it makes me so sad when I see someone lose that hope. And then I feel neglectful because inside...I don't want to feel sad. I want to be happy. Is that selfish? Is there a way to separate the two from one another? I mean, is it possible to be so utterly happy and still feel bad for everyone else who can't find the same sort of happiness or even catch a quick glimpse of it? Why can't I just let it go? Why do I have this incessant need to make sure everyone else is ok? When will I learn to accept that it's ok to not only take care of me, but to not feel guilty for doing so?

Because the truth is. I'm actually happy with me and I want to shout out to the world and scream "HELLO WORLD!" Life's a fact and you make of it what you will. You only have the one chance so why not make it the best you can possibly make it? Why not take advantage of what you have without taking it for granted? Why not accept things for the way that they are and if you can't, find a way to change it. It's possible! I've seen it. I'm living proof of it. So stop complaining. Stop being miserable. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Live your life to the fullest you can. Be happy and honest with yourself and the people around you. That's the reality. That's the truth. And that's the beauty behind it all.

I'm tired of feeling bad and letting it get in the way of my happiness. Life is too short. And if that makes me a cynic or a horrible person, than I guess that's what I am. It's not that I don't care, because I do. In fact, I care more than most. (Hence the fact that I'm taking time right now to write this all down:). But no longer will I let these things get in my way. It's not worth it in the end and I'm not meant to fix it anyway. I've found that out the hard way and even now have to remind myself from time to time that I don't have to "save" anyone but myself. And I've done that but not without the help of all the people around me who do really care about me.

Happiness should not be a burden to bare. And no longer will I make it one. So here it is, I'm gonna flaunt this happiness with every bit of my being because that's part of who I am. No one ever got anywhere through being negative. And you never know, perhaps it might rub off on somebody along the way.

The Proposal

2009-04-11T15:45:00.002-04:00

I woke up This Sunday morning and upon coming out of the bathroom, glanced over at the sleeping person in the bed and thought to myself "that is my future husband." I can't even begin to describe how this made me feel. This is something that I've been long awaiting in so many ways and it has finally happened. I'm really getting married!!!

Saturday, April 4th was the day, though I was completely unaware of this. Andrew woke up that morning and decided that he was going to pop the question. He had apparently had the ring for some time. In fact, it came in the mail on a day that I actually checked it. So I held the package in my hand, unknowing what was inside and that it was the key that defined the happiest day of my life.

I had to work that Saturday and I remember lying in bed with the dreaded feeling of having to get up so early during the weekend. I also remember in looking back that Andrew had draped his arms across me and held me really tight. I love when he does that. It makes me feel so loved and safe and warm.

I went to work and had kind of a rough day. So when I got home, I just wanted to hang out with Andrew and do something fun. We decided to go to the park and walk around a little bit. We get there and I notice that Andrew is acting a little weird....yes, weirder than usual which I know to most of you this probably seems like a bit of a stretch. We had gotten out of the car and I noticed that he hadn't locked the doors. So I asked him if he was going to because I had my purse in the car.

So this is what he does. He walks back to the car, opens the car door and closes it again.....doors are still unlocked.

"You ok?" I asked him.

"Jeez what is wrong with me?" He mumbled to himself. So he opens the car door again, pushes down the lock and closes the door. To understand what is wrong with this picture is to know that you can't lock the doors on his car without turning the key and locking it from the outside...therefore...the doors are still unlocked.

I stare blankly at him and he starts walking away from the car. "Ok." I think to myself. "Um...the doors are still unlocked...are you sure you're ok? Do you need to eat something?"

"Mumble mumble mumble."He walks back to the car for a third time and finally succeeds in the trying task of securing my purse.

It's a beautiful day outside and lots of families are out and about together. One of our favorite things to do is people watch so we were strolling along the park taking everything in. As we start walking back to the car, Andrew taps his pocket and asks himself..."What is that?"

I freeze and make a slide glace to him....and......

He takes out his cell phone.....damn it. By this time, my mind is drifting further and further away from the thought that a proposal might be coming soon.

We run a few errands and try to figure out what we're going to do that night. I had previously texted Pat and Jenn to see if they wanted to hang out but his friend Andy had also said something earlier in the week about hanging out too. After discussing what we were going to do, we were going to try to play it by ear and most likely stay home and hang out and watch a movie or something.

We get home and we're sitting in the dining room, playing with the cats and taking up the sun. The prettiest time of day is around 4 o' clock when the sun is coming in from our bay window. I was lounging on the little love seat and Andrew mentions that he might just go hang out with Andy anyway.

"Ok. But what if Pat and Jenn call?" I ask.

"I don't know. I don't know what I really want to do."

"But you said about an hour ago that you wanted to stay in."

"Yeah. I think I do."

"Ok then." I go upstairs to use the bathroom when I hear my phone ring. My phone is downstairs and I'm running down to try and catch it before it stops, but merely break my leg in the process so don't quite make it. Me+stairs+running=bad thing.

I check my voice mail and it's Pat wanting to hang out. So I ask Andrew if he wants me to just invite them over and we can still all hang out.

He comes from somewhere upstairs (where he went up to get the ring while I was distracted...who knew he could be so sneaky? and says, "You know. I think I am just going to go hang out with Andy."

Are you kidding me? I hate when he's being wishy washy and he KNOWS this! Why can't he make up his damn mind?

In other words...by this time I'm upset. I stomp around with my phone in my hand exclaiming sarcastically, "I wanna stay in, I wanna go hang out with Pat and Jenn, I wanna go out with Andy, I wanna stay in...blah blah blah! Which is it? What do you want to do? It's not that hard of a decision!"

He stares at me blankly..."Well what do you want to do?"

"UGHHHHHH!!!! Fine! I'll just go hang out with Pat and Jenn and we'll meet up later."

He's standing in the kitchen. staring at me through the opening that separates the kitchen from the living room where I am standing and stops and says "This is so perfect. This is so us."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He stares lovingly at me and shakes his head. I'm livid and refusing to look at him in the eye for too long because he knows every time I do, I just melt and forget everything we were just arguing about. What were we arguing about? He walks out of the kitchen into the dining room and grabs a book off the shelf. It's my "The Personality of Birthdays" book and he sets it on the counter in front of me.

"Open it to your birthday."

"Why? I know what it says..." Grumble grumble grumble.

"Just...open it to your birthday."

"Fine!!!" I start flipping towards the back of the book, he interrupts me...

"I think it's more towards the front."

"Grumble grumble...I know what it f***in' says."

I make it to the page of my birthday and stop short. There on the page is one of the 365 post-it notes I gave him in his stocking during our first Christmas together. In my writing, it says "I love you" and placed below it is the date he put it there which was sometime in May last year. It's what was beneath this note that caught the majority of my attention. There was another post-it that said "I have a question to ask you......"

I gasped and stared blankly at the page, full of so much emotion and looked over at Andrew who was now standing beside me.

"I've been trying to figure out the perfect way to ask you this. Everyone has been giving me ideas from doing it on top of a mountain or in a fancy restaurant. That's not us and I wanted to do it from the heart and I knew I would know when the right time came. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
(Let me just say before I go any further that this is only the gist of his speech. What he actually said was so much more beautiful and moving but I could never replicate it. Plus, it's all kind of a blur because it all happened so fast.)

He gets down on one knee and grabs my hand and says "My last name, you, your first name me?" (Translation: Will you marry me?":)

"YES!!!!! Yes yes yes yes yes!!!!!" I'm jumping up and down at this point and practically tackle him.

"Wait." He says. "Did you say yes?"

"Yes! Wait, did I actually give you the chance to ask?"

"Yes!"

We stare at each other and it's so obvious how we feel about one another. We may have our stupid arguments, but....wait.

"Did you start that argument on purpose?"

He smiles at me and says "I got you good."

Wow. I am not an easy person to surprise and he was right. He did get me good. And it was perfect. It was so us and I wouldn't have changed a thing. The day I had been waiting for had finally come and I was speechless. I didn't know what to say. I still really don't.

I'm so overwhelmed by so many emotions, but in a good way. Everything seems brighter and happier and glow-y and good. Everything between us seems that much better, even though only the one thing has changed. We're engaged. But actually knowing. Actually having this ring on my finger that I so adore, is everything and more than I could have ever dreamed of. We can now talk more openly about our plans for the future, our future, and it makes me so very happy to know that we're going to be together for the rest of our lives.

I had woken up that morning expecting to have just a regular ordinary Saturday, but it turned out to be the happiest day of my life. I love you Andrew! 'Till death do us part and longer. "Forever" is what makes us unique, because we believe in it and because it will last and because we are meant to be. But most of all, it's because it's "True love. You think this sort of thing happens everyday?"

2009-04-03T07:04:00.002-04:00

I have always been a firm believer that a child's perception of things is very critical during the time of elementary school . I think it takes a lot of patience to work in that setting and to be a teacher who is able to look outside the box and encourage a child's imagination when teaching subjects like art and music, ect. For example, my mom always tells us that she knew she would never be an artist because when she was in first grade her teacher told her the windows on the house she drew were too big. Something so small being said can affect a person for their entire life. It could close doors that were never really opened enough to explore the creativity and challenges that might have been able to be pursued.

Believe it or not, from Kindergarten to half-way through second grade, I was a talker. All of my report cards during that time of my life display a statement or 2 about how socially interactive I was and that sometimes, I had a hard time staying quiet when I was supposed to.

When I was in second grade, I found that liking my teacher Mrs. Tyndall was quite a challenge for me. There was another girl in the class with the last name "Long" and she was constantly confusing her name with mine (with my last name being "Short".) I mean seriously? How hard is it to get that straight? It was during her class that I remember getting my first multiple choice quiz where you had to color in the right circle with a number 2 pencil for the answer that you had chosen. She just passed them out and didn't explain how to do it...so I colored in all (and I mean every stinkin' one of them) of the circles for each question. (A little of my OCD coming out in my early years.) My friend sitting beside me had done the same thing because she hadn't understood how to do it either. Later, she called us to her desk and bluntly accused us of cheating. I wasn't even sure what that meant, but we were made to take the test again (after she rightfully explained how to do it). Somehow though, I felt like I was being punished.

The big day that I now look back on and can pinpoint when I started being so shy, was when I was sitting quietly at my desk in the back of the classroom, playing with a rope string that had come out of my shorts earlier in the day. I had tied it completely around my desk and was rotating it back and forth. Mrs. Tyndall told me to stop it and pay attention to the lesson. She didn't take it away from me. She just left the sting sitting there on my desk offering up temptation that no 7 year old can truly pass up. So, I waited a few minutes and then continued to play with my string. She interrupted class again and told me to stop. People were starting to stare. But again. She just left it there on my desk. It was like the forbidden string was taunting me, asking me to continue to play with it, telling me that it was no big deal. If it had of been , it wouldn't be sitting there anymore. So...taking all of this into consideration, I started playing with it for a third time.

Mrs. Tyndall lost her patience. Suddenly, she was towering over my desk, in my face, yelling at me in front of all of my fellow classmates. True. I wasn't paying attention. True. I didn't listen to what she had asked me to do. True...she was an evil bitch and must be destroyed....(Where did that come from?)

But seriously, all she had to do was take it away from me in the first place. It was too much to expect out of a little second grader to resist that sort of temptation. I wasn't back-talking. I wasn't disturbing anybody else. I was just playing in my own little world. In fact, SHE interrupted ME, now that I think about it.

And I was never the same. My report cards were never sent home again with the phrase "she's social but has a hard time keeping quiet during nap time." I went from one extreme to another...all because I was constantly being embarrassed in front of my classmates and I didn't want to be the freak. So I started to stay quiet and silently continued (and still do at times) to live in my own little happy world. And nobody, not even a mean, second grade teacher can take that away from me.

2009-04-02T11:35:00.002-04:00

I don't yet have children of my own. But I often think about what my brother and I put my parents through during each stage of "growing up". In talking with friends of mine that now do have kids of their own and thinking back on my parents, I can't help but wonder...how the hell can they keep a straight face at times when they are "supposed" to be serious and disciplinary? Here are only a couple examples that I can remember from when I was a kid:

My mom made baked chicken for dinner one night and had allowed my brother and I to sit at the counter while her and my dad sat in the living room. Our living room is a separate room leading in from the kitchen and the counters we were sitting at are located in the den facing said kitchen. Therefore, my parents couldn't really see what was going on when we got to eat at the counter. (This minor detail proves to be important later on the story.)

It was always customary for us to ask to be excused before leaving the dinner table. My parents would always look at our plates and often try and get us to eat one or two more bites before leaving. My brother Pat had already gotten his permission to leave the table and was off playing in his room, having fun while I was stuck sitting there all alone with my leg of chicken that I DID NOT want to eat.

My mom would periodically pop her head out to see my progress (or lack there of) and try to coax me each time to eat only a couple of bites. Stubborn little child that I was...I refused. After she had asked me to eat it quite a few times, I could tell she was starting to lose her patience with me. So I got a great idea. I would sneak out of the room very quietly, dreaded chicken in my hand and throw it away. Then sneak back into my chair, unnoticed and exclaim "I'm all done!"

I was a genius!!! The trouble was, finding a trash can that my parents were unlikely to find it later on. So I obviously chose the one in the bathroom. So. Brilliant! I slid off the chair like a quiet little ninja and sneaked out of the room, into the bathroom, opened up the cabinet and tossed the chicken in. Die chicken, die! No longer will I have to eat you. I smiled mischievously and crept back into my chair.

"All done!" I exclaimed. Awesome. I would still have time to play before bedtime.

My mom comes in the room and looks at my plate. She stares for what seems like an eternity and then looks me straight in the face. (Oh no.)

"So you ate it all huh?" She says inquisitively. I nod my head and flash her my prettiest toothless grin. She nods her head. "Wow. You ate every last bit." Why is she taking so long? I wonder to myself as I anticipate jumping out of my chair and running to my room to play with my dolls. She takes one last long look at my empty dinner plate and says, "Where's the bone?"

Silence.

My lip quivers and gush! Out come the tears. I regretfully slither out of my chair, with my head hanging down, walk her to the bathroom, open the cabinet door and point into the trash can. I'd been caught and now I was going to have to eat an even more gross piece of chicken because it had been in the trash can for several minutes.

My mom did not make me eat it, but I did get sent to my room. This, I believe was my first protest in eating meat and my first glimpse of my future in later becoming a vegetarian.

There was another time when I was about 4 or 5 years old and my mom was starting a bath for me. I went ahead and got in while the water was still running to give my feet a chance to get used to the temperature. I remember my mom standing by the sink, looking in the mirror when suddenly the sound of a good stream of water, other than what was coming from the faucet, entered the room. My mom looked at me with horror and saw none other than me...stark naked, peeing in the very bath water I was supposed to be bathed in.

To be honest, I do not fully remember the result of this other than my mom screaming "What are you doing?" and grabbing me out of the tainted water as fast as she could. I didn't understand what the big deal was. After all, I had been doing this for some time without her even knowing. I will say though, after that day, I did it no more. Perhaps this explains my present fear of taking a bath unless I know the tub is really clean.

More stories later. Stay tuned.

We're gonna get healthy!

2009-03-29T08:00:00.002-04:00

Andrew and I were sitting on the couch last night watching "Pretty In Pink" (a true 80's classic) and we got on the topic of not feeling healthy enough. I was complaining about how I don't really do anything very active during the week other than walking/running around the vet's office doing appointments and such. And he was concurring that he felt similar because he sits at a desk all day long.

So i said, "we should start running!" (Let me just make a small, perhaps insignificant note here...I have never been a runner. Yoga and Pilates= more my speed.)

Knowing Andrew and his unwillingness to make an actual plan (he likes to be spontaneous), we came to an agreement that we would motivate each other to try to walk/run at least 3 times a week. Today was our first venture out and this is how it began:

6:10am: Phoebe jumps on my face.

6:12am: I open my eyes and see 10 staring back at me....never a pleasant sight.

6:13am: I finally break (as I always do) because I'm awake now and there is no point trying to pretend that I'm asleep so the vultures will go away...because they don't care. They just want breakfast.

6:20am: After almost breaking my neck trying to reach the light before someone trips me, blocking Leira strategically to prevent her from eating any of the cat's food and then getting the correct food in all the correct bowls (Tuna and Phoebe on regular adult, Lorelai currently on a mixture of adult and a urinary tract diet and Dip and Bianca on a Senior formula) , I crawl back into bed. And I lay there on my back, eyes wide open and stare at the ceiling. (Sleeping in...never really an option.)

6:23am: My eyes are fluttering shut and.....I hear someone hacking. (Damn it!) I fumble for the light and turn it on just in time to see the 2 piles of vomit that Lorelai has just thrown up.

I don't do vomit early in the morning for I might vomit myself. So Andrew (wonderful boyfriend that he is) grabs a towel and the resolve (best.cleaning.up.pet.goo.EVER!) and I check on our furry friend to make sure she's ok. She's fine. Just a combination of eating too fast and getting used to a new food (even though I mixed in equal proportions of old and new food like I'm supposed to. Why can't my pets be text book?)

6:28am: Back in bed.

6:29am:Leira shoves her paw in my face. And I hear a random scratching sound like someone is in the litter box in the bedroom. But wait...there is no litter box in the bedroom. I fumble for the light switch again and see that Lorelai has indeed urinated on a pillow that I had left on the floor. (well, at least she's peeing more now...)

I get up, throw it and previous vomit soiled towel into the washing machine and go ahead and start it to prevent the smell from lingering.

6:34am: Said washing machine is processed! It starts making this horrendous noise like it's going to attack any minute and I exclaim to Andrew, "Our neighbors officially hate us." He gets up and turns it off.

6:36am: We look at each other, "Do you just want to get up and go running?"

Defeated, I say "Ok."

6:42am: We're in our running gear, stumbling over Leira trying to get our socks and shoes on but she knows something's up and she's going to get to do something very exciting in her world and she can barley contain herself! I get one sock on but struggle with the next because she keeps sneaking up behind me and licking my armpit....so.not.cute.

6:45am: We make it downstairs and find yet another pile of vomit (this time a hairball so Dip or Bianca is most likely the culprit) and another spot of urine on the carpet. (Really?)

6:48am: Resolve is put away, icky spots are drying and Leira's leash is on. We walk out the door and begin our jog.

7:00am: We soon discover that Leira is not equipped for jogging (even at our slow pace.) She keeps getting distracted by all of the smells and keeps looking up at us like "jeez guys, where's breakfast?" She too exhibits a bit of dry heaving and doesn't quite vomit, but does shake her head resulting in a big pile of slobber landing on the very top of her head. This apparently makes her feel better and she picks up speed.

Overall the jog (let's be honest, mostly fast-pace walking...?) went pretty well. And we both do feel better, having got up and started our day using some energy. Our next goal is Tuesday morning (but it's not a "plan" per Andrew...we're going to wing it.)

I've decided that the earlier morning events resulted from the pets overhearing our conversation from the night before and wanting to help "motivate" us to get up this morning.

If this is the case, I love you guys, but your technique needs a bit of improvement.

It just goes to show

2009-03-20T18:27:00.003-04:00

I work in a profession that offers ups and downs periodically throughout the day. One second, I could go into an appointment and see a new puppy or kitten and the next could be filled with my co-workers and I struggling to keep a suffering pet alive.

I must say that the clinic I work at is located in an area where most of our clients can afford what's needed to be done to keep their pet healthy. The majority of our patients are up to date on vaccines and come in at least once a year for their exams.

But we do have a handful of clients that aren't as great about keeping their pets current on everything whether it's from the economy being bad or from their lacking ability to see the importance of why we recommend these things to be done.

No judgment is being placed. I completely respect the decisions made by most owners in most situations, but sometimes we are brutally reminded why we give the whole spill each time a pet comes in for vaccines. That these things are important and it's important that we keep reaching out, especially to that small group of people who doesn't see a need in having it done on a yearly basis. Because bad things can happen. And in Gin's case, they did.

Every time we see the name of this Rottweiler (or any other owned by this particular owner), the other vet techs and I practically draw straws as to who is going to go in. The owner thinks it's humorous that her dogs would bite you in a second. And she has even admitted to encouraging it when she's in her own home with them. I don't know why she has this mentality. Perhaps she likes feeling "protected" by them, but it puts our staff in a difficult situation any time they need to be seen. And I'll admit first hand. I'm scared to death of her dogs.

Gin was a 3 year old, female who was exhibiting signs of vomiting and diarrhea. She hadn't eaten in several days and her energy level was decreasing by the hour. If you have never smelt parvo, consider yourself lucky. It's a smell one never forgets and it sticks with you for the rest of the day. It is more common for puppies to get it than adult dogs because puppies are more susceptible to diseases since they are working on building up their immunity through the first several months of their lives. This is why puppies get so many vaccinations during their first year and why we continue to vaccinate on into their adult lives. Gin had not been vaccinated for parvo for some time and this was her diagnosis.

To me, it's almost worse seeing a bad dag let you do anything to her. She just laid there as I put her catheter in and started her on fluids. She just laid there when I gave her an injection of medication through her skin. And she just laid there the countless times that we all took turns going in and cleaning up after her. All this from a dog that would, in any other case, rip you to shreds the moment she had the chance to. It's almost like she knew we were trying to help her.

Gin never got better. In fact, her health continued to go down hill. The doctor called the owner and suggested having her taken to a 24 hour facility where she could be watched around the clock. She was informed that Gin's prognosis was not looking good and that we were ill-equipped to do much more for her. The owner elected to come visit her and make her decision from there.

The moment that Gin saw her "mama", she immediately started whining, sending the owner into a fit of tears. Seeing her suffering like that, the owner elected euthanasia.

I was almost angry with this person. Not because she made this decision, but because all of this could have been prevented. I couldn't understand why she hadn't taken action before hand. But maybe she just didn't understand the importance? I guess in retrospect, we'll never know.

When she walked out of the room, I could barely look her in the eye. Though I was upset for her and very sad for the situation, I couldn't really hold back my anger. As she was getting ready to leave, she looked at the doctor and said, "This is probably going to sound mean."

Here we go, I thought to myself. She's going to blame someone else. She's going to cause a scene.

She didn't do either of those things. She said, "I still have medications for Gin at home. Would it be ok if I donated them to a family that needs them for their pet but can't afford them?"

My heart sank. I had stood there and judged her, expecting her to show her ass, and she did the exact opposite. I may never understand her as a person. I may never understand the way she is. But one thing I do understand now is that she did love her dog. And in the end, I guess that's all that really matters.

It just goes to show. Things aren't always as they seem. Sometimes it takes a sad event to be reminded of that, regardless if we understand it or not. I'd like to think that in the end, Gin did know we were all on the same side. And perhaps, in a silent way that only pets have the ability to show us, we all came to an understanding.

May your soul rest in peace Gin. We will always remember you.

It doesn't take much

2009-03-20T07:22:00.004-04:00

So yesterday was my day off. I spent the morning volunteering at the SPCA as I do every Thursday. Then I came home, took a shower and started cleaning the house while listening to the Pat Benatar station on Pandora. (I was totally rocking out!)

After some extensive cleaning, including, but not limited too, spending an entire hour shoveling out all 4 (yes 4) litter boxes, emptying them completely, wiping them down with Clorox and then refilling them (and not 2 seconds later , I turn around and Tuna is taking a dump....figures).

I'm off track....Right. So then I decided to go run some errands.

My first stop was Goodwill where I found 3 books and a pair of jeans for only $5.50! (Awesome!) However, I did have to try on the jeans in a dressing room with very thin walls and I could hear the lady beside me having an argument....with herself. Very strange. I couldn't understand what she was saying, but she kept going on and on and on and on and saying "Oh Lordy" over and over again. Later I saw this same customer up at the cash register asking over and over how much each item was, not even giving the poor cashier much of a chance to answer. And she's allowed to go out in public...crazy!

Then I went to Target to get some essentials (shaving lotion, soap, toilet paper, ect.). My cashier was a bit odd and kept looking at the toilet paper with a side glace...almost like he was embarrassed by it. (Hello. We all use it buddy...not. that. weird. of a purchase.) Then he proceeded to shove it in my face after ringing it up, saying "Here!". I almost dropped it as I was trying to put my debit card back in my wallet (yea for me putting it back where it belongs....that's another story).

Next was the bank...not all that interesting due to the fact that I never see the money that goes in...it's already pretty much spent. So sad. Next was bath and body works where I got an excellent deal on hand soap (3 for $10!!!). A whole lot of awesome-ness:).

By this time, I was in great need of some socialization. I went home and walked Leira, fed everybody and then sat by the window (like the puppy I apparantly am) until Andrew came home. Leira and I greeted him at the door where she thin sat real pretty and showed him her brand new collar. (So cute and green with POLKA DOTS!!!). So exciting. Then we proceeded to follow him upstairs, as I stopped to show him all the cleaning I had done and asked him about his day.

We were laying on the bed when I suddenly got the urge to try one of my sweat shirts on Leira to see what would happen. (I've been trying to convince Andrew for months that she would look so super cute in a little hoodie.) This was the result:

By far. This was the most entertaining and interesting part of my day. Gotta love cheap entertainment. It doesn't take much to make us happy.

The Things I hold Onto

2009-03-11T13:02:00.002-04:00

1) Memories (both good and bad)

2) Friendships (Even those of whom I haven't been in touch with for awhile. I hold each of you dearly in my heart.)

3) Old pictures and photo albums.

4) Baby clothes and stuffed animals.

5) Movie posters.

6) My mom's old stethoscope.

7) Old calenders with picture's ranging from animals to Audrey Hepburn.

8) Old cards and notes.

9) C.D's and movies collected over the years.

10) The pain caused by others.

11) The pain I caused towards others.

12) The happiness caused by others.

13) The happiness I have caused for others.

14) Music.

15) Peace.

16) Serenity.

17) The beauty of the world around us.

18) My parent's house, my old home.

19) Past and present pets.

20) Knowledge.

21) Understanding.

22) Books.

23) Daddy's hand.

24) One last glance.

25) My grandmother's beauty.

26) My grandfather's old zippo lighter.

27) Smiles.

28) Frowns.

29) Ups.

30) Downs.

31) Love.

Saved by the bell

2009-03-11T13:00:00.000-04:00

I was thinking about this show this morning because the song was stuck in my head. (To make a long story short, Andrew gave me his old phone to use to replace my phone that Leira decided to eat. His old ring tone is the saved by the bell theme...hence why it has been stuck in my head for the past 2 days.) One of the lines being "If I slump in my chair, then she won't know that I'm there" (yes! I know all the lyrics...jealous?) made me think about when I was in 5th grade.

Our teacher handed out individual copies of "Reader's Digest" to all of the students and we were asked to read the story portrayed in a certain section of the magazine...I forget which section that was. We were given a certain amount of time and then were told that we would have to give a short synopsis on what we had just read. The reading part I wasn't so worried about, but I hated the idea of talking in front of my fellow classmates.

Oh well, I thought to myself, it's a few minutes out of my life and then it will be over. I glanced down to see the title of the story I was about to read....and saw that dreaded word....SEX.

Oh God.

I spent the majority of our given time, trying to think of what I was supposed to say when it was my turn. I never even said this word out loud and I was blushing even thinking about the word alone. All I could find myself thinking about was when my parents sat me down to have "the talk", which involved me sitting between them and them placing a book in my lap. I don't even remember this conversation. All I remember is staring down at the book and not even wanting to touch it. Of course they chose this time in my life to tell me about Santa Claus as well.

I have never been the same since.

As I was watching the clock slowly tick by the minutes, I suddenly got an outstanding idea! I was sitting in the back row and all I had to do was slump really low down in my chair and my teacher wouldn't even see me! Brilliant!!! I was going to make it out alive after all.

It was getting closer and closer to my turn. Suddenly, there were only two people left to go in front of me. Now one. Now....silence.

"Oh. There you are Mary. I almost didn't see you."

Was that my name? Oh God. She said my name. What do I do? , random thoughts popping in and out of my head on what to do or say.

I looked to my left. I looked to my right. No one there to help me. The boys were starting to snicker. Stupid boys. Why do there have to be boys anyway? They're gross and stupid and icky...

Oh..... right.

Suddenly this huge figure was towering above me. I tried to look up at her but my neck failed me. She was saying something. What was she saying? Her voice was getting louder. She was pointing at the betraying magazine lying on my desk unopened.

"WHAT WAS YOUR STORY ABOUT? WHAT DID YOU DO WITH YOUR TIME?"

She was yelling at me. And all I could do was stare blankly. I was getting in trouble and it was her OWN stupid fault for not looking at the headlines before hand.

I continued to say absolutely nothing as she flailed about, pointing and yelling...and finally giving me an x-mark on my once clear record of never getting into trouble. (There was a board with all of the student's names on it. There were several columns and we were each allowed 3 strikes before we got after school detention. I now had 1.)

But I never said a word.

She was evil for making this assignment. All boys were evil for laughing at me. Reader's Digest was evil for writing such an article (one that I still have no clue what it entailed.) And above all, the most evil of all things evil...was sex.

The bell rang, but it was too late. Class was over . The damage was already done.

Dreaded S.E.X that you are. I shall never forgive you for this embarrassment. Oh why oh why could I have not just this once, been saved by the bell?

Lorelai

2009-03-11T08:00:00.000-04:00

Our cat Lorelai has a personality of her own. Her facial expressions alone tell us exactly what she's thinking about any given situation.

Lately, she has taken up watching t.v. She used to only watch "The Lorelai Show", which consisted of her just sitting in front of the blank screen and watching her own reflection move around as she did. But now she has stepped up and shown more interest than just her pretty face on the blank screen.

She had previously shown an interest in Gilmore Girls (Why wouldn't she? That's where her namesake came from.) However lately, she has broadened her interests which have included the following: Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure (A true classic), Barrack Obama's address on the stimulus plan (our little democrat), and the ending of Where the heart is.

The most recent interest (Where the Heart Is) included her sitting on the bookcase watching the movie intently. The movie was finally building up to the ending scene (when Folley and Novalee finally get together) and here comes Lorelai, appearing out of nowhere and sitting directly in front of the t.v. As the two characters stare at each other on screen and lean in for that awaited kiss,Lorelai suddenly reached her paw up onto Folley's face and stared lovingly.....therefore sending both Andrew and I into a fit of laughter.

Perhaps you had to be there, but I still burst into a fit of giggles when I think about it. Who knew she would be such a romantic? God love her. She is definitely an individual.

Lorelai: Aspiring to be the next U.S. President

Writer's Block

2009-03-09T07:55:00.002-04:00

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! The fear of all fears when it comes to trying to be a successful writer. It has happened folks. For the past 3 days I haven't been able to think of anything to write about! So sad so sad.

And it seems like every time I do think of something,I'm driving or have no access to a computer or a pen and paper.I think to myself, "It's OK. I won't forget it." And alas, I get home and it's forgotten. What to do what to do.

Maybe I should get a tape recorder. Seems like I had one lying around here some where. What ever happened to that thing? I don't have any tapes for it anyway...or batteries...plus there's the whole possibility that I sold it...but I don't remember.

I do have a notepad in my purse, but I don't feel comfortable writing anything down when I'm in the process of driving. Believe me, I have tried this before, and it wasn't pretty. I either go back and try to look at what I wrote down and can't even decipher it, or I almost end up driving off the side of the road.

Hopefully this is just temporary. Though I'm sure as soon as I get in the car to drive to work, I will think of something. Woe is me.

Better luck next time.

Dreams

2009-03-06T08:00:00.002-05:00

I keep having this reoccurring dream that I'm drowning. I'm usually walking along the beach and suddenly the tide starts getting closer and closer to me. No matter how far I stray, even if it's to the nearest beach house, the water always finds me and sucks me away.

On several occasions in these dreams, I will come very close to drowning, gasping for air each time a wave plummets me. I always seem to find my footing and suddenly I'm back on the shore again. The last time I had this dream...my head never broke the surface again. I remember reaching for Andrew and our eyes locking; fingers almost touching, then realizing that he wasn't going to be able to save me and mouthing the words "I love you".

Sad. Right?

But then I started thinking. What could this symbolize? I have always kind of been a "keep it to myself" sort of person. There are certain things I just don't talk about and if I do, I am only able to talk about them for a certain amount of time before I close up completely and change the subject. Maybe the "drowning" is a symbol for this avoidance.

Maybe Andrew's reaching out for my hand and me almost taking it, but pulling back, is a symbol of me not opening up enough to him or anyone else that I love. I don't know why I do this. I don't think it's fear. I've never been afraid to do anything. I didn't get where I am today by being afraid.

But maybe it's because I have taken so many chances in my past and this is what makes me hesitant. What if I take the chance in opening up completely and then only get hurt again? Not necessarily by him or anyone else, but by myself. What if I let out what I'm feeling and say it out loud, only to feel worse in the end because it's out in the open and therefore becomes more than my burden to bare?

I can handle hurting on my own, but I've been the cause, or the link to the cause of someone else hurting way too many times. I don't want to do that again. But I don't want to drown either.

Beware: Evil Family Members Unite

2009-03-05T12:33:00.000-05:00

So, I was downloading pictures from my phone to my email address the other day because I need to get a new phone....(because Leira decided to try to eat my current one...) and I came across this picture:

Pure evidence that my brother Pat and sister-in-law Jenn are E.V.I.L.

For those of you who have not had to suffer through the torment that is the movie "The Strangers", don't waste your time. Two words: Scary Ass Shit! (OK, that's 3 words, but I'm only trying to get my point across).

During the whole movie, I was curled up in the tiniest ball possible, wedged against the arm rest and Andrew's shoulder. I was focusing more on the random comments flowing throughout the theater (Among my favorites being: "That's f***ed up" and "Oh she'll have sex with him, but she won't marry him"...this comment actually coming from a guy. Yea for you buddy!) than the actual movie itself.

So anyway. After the movie ended, we went to Andrew's and my apartment. Before entering the door completely, I made him and Pat search inside all of the closets, under the bed, behind the washer and dryer, ect, for person(s) hiding and waiting to come out and kill me. After, I got the all clear, Pat and Jenn left, but not without laughing at me. AND. Pat just thought it was hilarious to wait about 5 minutes and then sneak back up the stairs and bang extremely loudly on the door. So not funny!!

After being terrified and getting absolutely no sleep that night, I opted to skip Sunday dinner at Andrew's parents to stay at home and get some rest. I swear to you, not 10 minutes after he had left and was well on his way, I received this on my cell phone. (I share it with you again for dramatic emphasis).

Yes. That's Pat with a bag on his head.

You are both bastards and will one day suffer when you least expect it.

Radio

2009-03-05T08:36:00.000-05:00

I must say that since my c.d. player in my car broke a little over 1 month ago, I have been indeed suffering through the horrible music the radio has to offer. I find myself hitting the scan and seek buttons more often than stopping to listen to a randomly good song that happens to be playing. And let me just ask, why the hell are the same damn songs played over and over again? Is there no originality in this business? If I hear Guns and Roses' "Sweet Child o' Mine" or Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust" one. more. time. I am likely to scream and pull my hair out, therefore causing a wreak and likely having to convince the police that, no, I am not on drugs.

And why is it that every time I scan and it lands on 93.9, another Madonna song is playing? How many songs could she have possibly written? I mean, don't get me wrong. I like Madonna as much as the next guy, but designating a whole radio station to her seems a little overboard if you ask me.

One other thing, Delilah is a bitch. (Sorry for the harshness). She is so mean to the callers that call in to vent and reveal their life's latest sob story and she just sits there and judges them, making comments that are far from helpful. And what's with the music she chooses? Someone could be calling about just loosing his wife in a car crash and she would play "Life is a Highway". That's just wrong.

I will say that I do like 88.1. They seem to focus a lot on local music and newer artists out there trying to get their names out. Unfortunately, however, this station doesn't seem to want anyone to know who these people actually are. I have been late to work on many occasion because I'm stuck, sitting out in my car trying to figure out who sang the song that just played. And each time, I have yet to find out. One would think I would learn that this information is apparently not meant for me to have. And yet, my stubbornness prevails.

So, here is a list of music I would play if I had a radio station:
Over the Rhine
Dar Williams
Norah Jones
Pat Benatar (though some may say shes overly played as well, but I cannot deny my love for her)
Aimee Mann
Indigo Girls
David Wilcox
Ari Hest
Pat Short (a little plug for my brother...he's awesome! www.myspace.com/patshort))
Bob Dylan (Why isn't he played more? Hello! Best. Lyricist.EVER!)
Rusted Root
Ani Difranco
My Morning Jacket
Fleet Foxes
The Arcade Fire
The Be Good Tanyas
Beck
The Bangles
Louis Armstrong (Who doesn't adore him? And I do a great impression of his version of "Hello Dolly", so singing with him in the car would be oober fun!)
Debbie Gibson (Who Loves ya Baby? That's right, I do)
Belle and Sebastian
Camera Obscura
Nickle Creek
Prince
Just to name a few....

Here is a list of artists I would NOT include:
Nickelback (If I hear "Look at this Photograph" one more time...I swear I will kill myself)
James Blunt (though I do like that one song...but that's the only one they play and if you think about the lyrics, it's creepy)
Rascal Flatts
Ozzie Osbourne (for personal reasons and also because he chewed off a pigeon's head. That's cruel people. C.R.U.E.L)
Fall Out Boy
Destiny's Child
Eminim
Furgie
Ashely Simpson
Jessica Simpson
Britney Spears (Though I'll give her credit, she doesn't look like a drunk whore anymore. Yea for her!)
Guns and Roses (Because they have played them into the ground and almost ruined them for me)
Pink
Red Hot Chili Peppers

And anything else that makes me want to vomit.....

Take it as you will, but the radio sucks.

New Snowglobe Case!

2009-03-04T08:53:00.000-05:00

Yea! It's finally here! I have been waiting for this moment to arrive for what seems like an eternity. OK. Perhaps that sounds a bit dramatic, but let me start at the beginning.

I started collecting snow globes when I was around 11 or 12. They're the really, pretty Disney ones that are extremely well made and look just like the characters from the movies. (I know. Geek alert! Right?) Oh well. I will flaunt my geekiness with pride gosh darn it! (Who says gosh darn it? I do! That's right...) But anyway, these snow globes have traveled along with me to many an abode, but for the past 5 years, I have had no where to store them. So alas, they have been sitting in their individual boxes, collecting dust and playing their pretty music for no one. So sad. So sad.

So about a year ago, my dad mentioned to his friend J.R. that I had been wanting a special cabinet to put my special snow globes in for display. His friend J.R. is the sweetest man you could ever meet (aside from my own daddy:), though he does look a bit like Yosemite Sam and carries a gun in his boot.

He was more than happy to accept the challenge so the project began.

Each time I went to see my parents in Asheville, I got to see the progress that was being made. Suddenly, the cabinet was starting to look like a real cabinet with glass doors and everything. (So exciting!) J.R's wife Sheila even made the handles out to look like miniature snow globes with The Little Mermaid and Cinderella characters painted on them (yes...I'm still 5 years old, but I love it!:)

I kept thinking it was finished each time I laid eyes upon it, but dad kept finding more things to do to it. For example, it needed to be sanded, stained, yada yada yada. Good God it was taking F.O.R.E.V.E.R. (Not really...but I'm not the most patient person in the world...ask Andrew. )

The other day, I got an email. It was from an email address I had never seen before but I clicked on it anyway, hoping that it wasn't spam. No. It wasn't It was my father. (Who knew he could use email?...Just kidding daddy...you know I only tease because I love.) This magical email enclosed the words I had been waiting to hear (see?). "We are bringing up your cabinet this weekend". A choir sang, bells rang and angels got their wings.("Way to go Clarence!") The day had finally come.

And it's so preeeeety! It sits in our dining room and welcomes us home every day from work. Andrew loves to surprise me with winding up a different one every day so we can hear it's sweet Disney music. They are all displayed once again, finally breaking free from their styrofoam cages and singing their beautiful music. My own "Enchanted" in the form of a cabinet specifically designed for snow globes. Life could not be any sweeter.