I crave the fantasy.

I like old movies from the 1950s and early 1960s. There is a specific reason for this. I like a movie that makes me cry, either for good or bad. The ending must be tragic or unimaginably happy. You only find those kind of melodramas in the 1950s and 1960s. Oh sure, there are a few exceptions, but these days, movies are too realistic for my taste. I crave the fantasy.

One of my favorite movies is the "Imitation of Life" with Lana Turner (Sandra Dee is also in this movie, but not the way you are accustomed to picturing her). and John Gavin as the leading man. The movie is a rags to riches story, throw in some racism and good old fashioned Broadway, don't forget the romance. By the end of the movie if you don't have a box of Kleenex and new view on racism, you are not human.

Another favorite is Warren Beatty's first major role. He plays a gigolo. Vivien Leigh (played Scarlet O'Hara) plays an aging actress that has an affair with Warren Beatty. The movie is called, "The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone". This movie was remade for Lifetime, need I say more? Watch the original. This movie may not make you cry (unless you are of a certain age) but it will make you think. Or it will piss you off.

I like these movies because I have never outgrown the melodramatic. It may be 2009, but the violins still play in my world. I still live in a melodrama . One day it is all happy broadway show tunes with the tinsel and the glamour, the next, there is a tragic death scene with the lights being lowered on our heroine.

I continue to hope for an incredibly happy ending...call me old fashioned, call me sentimental.

School Clothes

When I was a kid school clothes shopping meant hitting all the garage sales in the closest big town. Our town was too small to "garage sale" in (garage sale can also be a verb in case you were not aware). I remember it well. We would load up in the Chrysler, drive to my grandmother's house 65 miles away, spend the night and be ready for the sales by 7:00 a.m. on Friday. If you waited until Saturday, all the good stuff was gone.

At a garage sale, we were used to getting the things that fit, and did not have holes or rips in them, and likely under $2.00 ($5.00 for a single piece was cutting into the budget and considered somewhat extravagant). The ideal find was a $1.00 or less. The most embarassing part of "garage saling" was when my mother would ask the homeowner if we could use their bathroom to try the clothes on.

I'm not sure if my stepfather got a raise one year or not, but for whatever reason I was able to buy some clothes brand new. I went to the mall, Sears. I will never forget it. The experience was so foreign to me. I felt out of place and overwhelmed by all of the options in my size. I was in the 4th grade and to this day I know exactly what I chose.

I chose a brown pair of corduroy pants (I ripped them within the first 6 weeks of school, but continued to wear them. The rip allowed some air in, that hot Texas weather is brutal in corduroy anything!). A pair of forest green polyester slacks (why my mother allowed this choice is beyond me, polyester in Texas and in the 4th grade! I looked like a substitute teacher in those pants.) and finally 2 pair of purple Sears brand jeans. I am not sure why I wanted 2 pair of the same color, or again, why my mother allowed that (the kids teased me constantly about wearing the same pants everyday).

I don't recall ever going to the mall again for school clothes. And to this day, I have never purchased one single item of clothing at Sears.

Green Stamps

If you remember S&H Green Stamps don't tell anyone! That will really give your age away. If you really and truly don't remember them, I'll fill you in a bit.

There were certain stores that would give you green stamps (literal green stamps) depending on your purchase amount determined how many green stamps you received. There were these booklets where you would lick and post the stamps. There was a catalog, incredible variety, of items you could choose to redeem your stamps for. This catalog had things like kitchen appliances, cookware, bicycles, clothing, large furniture, you could even save enough to purchase a car, vacations or insurance policies (I am not kidding).

When I was a kid I remember the green stamp books lying around the house. I'll bet there were 10 different stamp books in varying stages of capacity at our house. I doubt one book was ever completely filled. I never remember those stamps being redeemed. I do remember dreaming about what we were "saving" for.

As a very poor family, it seemed like the most likely way that I could obtain luxury items such as a curling iron or a jean jacket with shiny studs. That book of treasures was quite the escape for me. I felt closer and closer to reaching my goal everytime we would get new stamps at the store, I couldn't wait to lick each stamp and stick it in the booklet.

Those stamps and booklets disappeared when I was about 10 years old or so, not sure exactly when it happened. There is an online version of the green stamps, but it's just not the same.

You need something you can hold and look at, something tangible. It gives you hope. Bring back the stamps!

I'm sure it wasn't Woody Woodpecker

A friend of mine recently described her least favorite, almost sexual encounter. It goes like this:

She had been dating a man for a couple of months, sexless, but had fun together. They recently went on a cruise where I am sure the culmination of coupledom was to take place. Just picture a romantic cruise, water, moon and stars. Now picture, 55 year old man in cartoon boxers, a hairy back and a protruding tummy (her description was to think 7 month pregnant woman). The encounter may still have happened if anything else had been able to protrude.

I would mostly object to the cartoon boxers. With all the other things that you are unwilling or unable to control, why add to it with cartoon boxers? (I really wonder now what cartoon was depicted) That whole scenario makes him seem like the cartoon character.

Had it been me, the almost encounter would have ended something like this...."that's all folks!"

Sabotage the Blog

Yesterday, my 14 year old son said, "This is my favorite part of your blog". I looked at the blog and he had entered a post:

Title; son
Entry; my son is amazing

Of course I think he is amazing (gotta make sure he reads this one!). What now concerns me is that the little devil will be entering posts and you all will think I have lost my mind. Here are some things where you should question authorship if the topics appear in my blog:

Basketball; Acne; 8th grade girls volleyball team (hot hot hot); and of course...My mom Lori is the best mom in the world(he's amazing, Im the best mom in the world) or the flipside; My mom Lori is a total bitch (this could be more likely)

My kids cannot be trusted and are trying to sabotage the blog!

Morning Buzz

I am up early this morning. I am waiting on the coffee, making a mental list of things I would like to get accomplished today. "Good Morning America" is on in the background. I am not sure if it is just an early morning "buzz" or not, but today I feel better than I have in a while. The sun has not yet come up, but I feel a cloud moving out of my sky (how cheesy does that sound?lol).

I have already unloaded the dishwasher, have the tenderloin marinating for dinner, have the oven self cleaning, and I'm eyeballing some cabinets that need to be rearranged (I doubt I will do that today though). I will get the floors swept and mopped, I know this because I have the mop bucket and bleach staring at me. It takes some pretty major self talk to pump yourself up to mop these floors. Large areas, and you know by end of day no one will be able to tell I cleaned them because the kids and dogs will track snow in. But it will smell clean.

This feels like a good day.

It is not about you

Just a quick post for the three people that have asked me if they are the subject of the "liar" post. None of you are.

The real liar would not dare ask if it were about him because he has convinced himself it is all true.

A note about the three people that asked me if it were them. They all have one thing in common, each have lead extraordinary lives. I'll bet there are days when it is hard to believe it is actually their life they speak of (I know I can't believe my own life story sometimes).

Just wanted to clear that up.

And now, the real fun begins

Sometimes it takes a lot of screaming and tears to get to the bottom line with your teenaged daughter. I found this out tonight. This is not the first time, but this one was a bit of a shocker.

After a week of really bad behavior. First by her, then by me(I would not have won a mother of the year award today, let's leave it at that). She had a breaking point where I honestly thought she was going insane. She started laughing and crying simultaneously and said " Can I tell you something? Can I tell you what I think my problem is?" Of course I said "Sure."

She then said, "You have been right about something for the last few months." Well you can imagine the jolt my system took over this statement alone. She proceeded to confide in me that she has strong feelings for her "best friend" Josh. I have predicted for quite some time now that he would be her first real boyfriend. Of course everytime I would bring it up and try to discuss it she would tell me how crazy I was.

She wants to tell him that she really really likes him, but does not want to ruin the friendship. Plus she says she will do almost anything to spend time with him. So my hormonal, in love daughter has turned into a lunatic and cannot think or act in a reasonable fashion (who amongst us has not gone a bit crazy over a boyfriend/girlfriend?).

After some tears, some laughter and a nice long conversation...she is still grounded. I think we are passed the screaming part for now. That is a start.

Now all I have to do is talk to her father...wish me luck.

Liar! Free Thyself!

Liars. I am sure you know at least one chronic liar. I know one that I so want to "call out", but I don't. The lies are meaningless. They really don't have much, if anything, to do with me. They are usually about women that he gets, or money.

I have come to a conclusion. People that are chronic liars seem to have sad lives. It is less painful to live in their fantasy world. I get it.

So I decided to post a lie to see if I feel better. Ok, the following is all a lie but I do this in the interest of science:

I am a 32 year old woman with about $15,000,000 in the bank. I have several profitable investments. I have a boyfriend that is 39, also rich (he invented texting, you know, phone texting). My children are all perfect A+ students that wear purity rings and each hopes to serve the church by saving babies that have Aids in third world countries (what darlings my children are). I no longer need to work, but to keep my brain active I continue to write a series of novels that are quite successful (I donate all of the profits to babies with Aids in third world countries. My kids take after me).

End of lie. Back to reality.

Nope. I do not see the attraction to lying about one's life. I actually feel worse that none of it is true.

Maybe I should tell the liar how much better he would feel if he would just accept the reality.

Does this really need a title?

Now this is the way to begin a post is it not? Well at least for the women (y'all can thank me later). Besides sharing a photo of a nice looking man, I have a few other things I would like to share.

I am so sick and tired of men waxing or shaving their chests. It's enough already! When did it become the "norm" that men shaved or waxed their chests? That ship has sailed (all the while I am picturing him on a ship)and it is no longer sexy to have a bare chest.

So for all you men out there! Stop waxing and shaving your chests! We like you to be manly.

I had to come up with something to share this photo...that's the best I have. Still, that chest works for me!

I think I was being interviewed

I had the second interview today. I'm not sure if I will get the job or not(over qualified for one, under qualified for the other is my take) but it was one hell of an interview. I learned a lot about what this field is about, what the stressors are, what the rewards are. I also learned a lot about my interviewer...

She has been married to her husband for over 30 years. She has been the single provider for her house of 5 for the past two years (her husband was injured at work). Her husband once cheated on her and she shook the woman's hand, 6 years later he tried to kill that woman and went to prison. The interviewer stuck by her husband while he was in prison, about 2 years I think.

I don't know what to think about all of this. I am not real sure why she told me these things. I hope I got my points across about the job and why I wanted it. I better make a call on Monday just to make sure she understands that I want the job and what my strong suits are.

I guess if nothing else, it comes through that I am a good listener.

The long and short of my day

Today was one of those days where I felt like I was really "on". I had an interview that was good enough to be asked to return tomorrow for a second interview. I looked fresh instead of tired and....Wait a minute! I have to stop right here. I didn't wake up feeling fabulous and fresh. I only felt that way after leaving the interview.

My interview was at a senior center (you may recall I am attempting to work in the senior care field). Being surrounded by the elderly made me feel young, energetic and full of life (wait for it, wait for it, this is not the bad part, you know one is coming).

Here is why I think I felt so damn good after I left there. As I said, first the elderly made me appreciate my youth (in comparison I am young, no laughing please). Second, my interviewer made me appreciate the rest of my life. I left thinking....thinking...how can I say it? Ok, I left thinking I was glad I was not a midget! There I said it.

My interviewer was a midget, maybe a dwarf, I'm not sure which. Very nice and personable and obviously good at her job. I did notice she struggled for some routine things that you and I take for granted. It made things like losing weight seem attainable and much easier somehow.

Her primary job is to make people feel better. She did that for me today.

I'm still glad I'm not a midget.

Sugar and Spice and Rarely Nice

As I have aged I have mellowed, somewhat. At least I was starting to mellow, then my daughter hit high school. Now I find myself turning into a stark raving mad lunatic. It is right about this time in a teenager's life they begin to think that anyone over 30 is stupid. The parents are stupid, the teachers are stupid. Everyone is stupid.

If I hear the word stupid or the phrase "I don't care" one more time...

I didn't totally forget what teenagers are like my oldest is 23; but that oldest one is a male child. Here is the difference in male and female children, THE MOUTH. Girls do not know when to shut up. Boys get into trouble with grades or speeding tickets, maybe even something a little worse. Those problems get resolved, the teenage girl's mouth never ends, never has a resolution, it just goes on and on. She will say whatever comes into her wisdom deprived brain, not ever considering the consequences.

I completely understand why this phenomenom occurs. It is well documented that women tend to have better verbal skills than their male counterparts. Men do not express their feelings in a verbal way as women do. Therefore, the teenage girl is in a sort of training, trying to hone her verbal skills.

She has a long way to go to perfect those verbal skills.....ughhh

Godspeed Mr. President

It is official and it is awesome, President Obama. It does not matter whether or not you voted for him, the history and the hope were both palpable today.

There is no need to say more. Godspeed Mr. President!

The Dog I call Cowboy

My son has a dog named Chief. This is the laziest dog you have ever met. He is part lab, part retriever, as far as I can tell. I have two dogs, Hansel and Gretel, they are pure bred Shelties. They cost a lot of money and have lived long lives. Too long(i think they are 13 this year). I keep hoping they won't be able to find their way home, inside joke. The Shelties act like puppies. They are not my kinda dogs. They 'yap' a lot. They are hyper. They still eat shoes and crap on the carpet.

I used to think I didn't have a type of dog.

Chief has changed all that. He is my kinda dog. He snores. He is really just a big old baby. Even after a bath, this dog still smells, and not like Herbal Meadows...He is the sweetest dog I have ever met. He is my kinda dog. Chief does not require a lot of maintenance, although, I dote on the old thing. He has the most expressive eyes I have ever seen. He sleeps in my bed, against all of my protesting that he smells it up and leaves too much hair on the bed, I don't move him. He doesn't ask for much. Food, some water and to be let out a couple of times a day.

This dog turns me into an old softie. He doesn't beg to be pet, but I can't help it. I pet him constantly. He has these flappy ears that require attention. He barks at cars, that is his only exercise. There is only one problem with Chief. He was named after the Kansas City Chiefs football team. I am a Dallas Cowboys fan.

I secretly call him Cowboy. He is my dog now....shhhh...no one needs to know. Good ole' Cowboy.

Red Feet, Black Feet...they are all Feet

Tomorrow is an historic day. Our first black president. Before I comment on my feelings about this, I have to share a few stories.

My grandparents were very judgemental of others, no matter the color. But in their household was the only place I remember real prejudice. It was a large family and the grandparents were the center of them all. And they were all prejudice. The "N" word was used frequently, "jokes" were told with black people being the butt of them. Even back then, I was uncomfortable with the "jokes". But more than that, I knew they were ignorant.

When I was about 9 years old, a black family moved in across the street from the grandparents. I don't remember what the bricks in the backyard were originally there for, but I do remember what they asked us to do with them. The grandparents tried to convince all of the grandchildren that it was a game. They told us to take the bricks and throw them at the black people's home. I don't recall any of us actually doing it, but I can't be sure.

At any rate, both of the grandparents are dead now. They did not live to see the election and inauguration of Barack Obama. I wish they had. I would love to know what they would say. It is hard to find fault in President-elect Obama or his family. Unfortunately, I am sure they would have found something. If nothing else, just that he is black.

But, what is even more shocking than that. I once heard my children's grandmother read a Dr. Seuss book about feet. The book says something along the lines of..red feet, green feet...and when it got to black feet. The grandmother said "we don't like black feet". This phrase was uttered by the same woman (by the way she lives in Iowa) that has since voted for Barack Obama. She sings his praises. What a change, what a welcome change!

It would be easy to criticize the grandmother that said she didn't like black feet. But what is more impressive, she learned to look passed color and focus on what is good for the country. She learned to look at the person, not the color. She is proof that you can continue to grow as a person no matter your age.

This is not the end of my enounters with racism amongst my own family. I have a younger sister that once tried to commit suicide because our parents hated her for dating a black man.

All of this having been said. I know this election effects black people on a very deep level. But it does me too, and so many of my family members and friends. I can see the beginning of the end of racism. We are not to the end yet. But thinking how far we have come in my lifetime, I can only hope that my children's generation is the one where it ends for good.

Next, gays and lesbians. Let's end all prejudice. Tomorrow is a good start.

Television for Women

I wanted to watch something funny today. Instead I ended up on the Lifetime channel. That is the furthest thing from funny. Let me give you the afternoon's lineup. A girl in junior high that is so bullied she tries to commit suicide; another movie where a 12 year old dies from luekemia. But there is hope, tonights lineup features a young man that commits suicide because he is gay and his parents don't understand him (bonus this one is a true story).

I want to change the channel but it is almost hypnotic. I am in some sort of trance from television induced depression. The only positive aspect of watching this depressing, IQ reducing trash, you are glad the movie is not about your life.

This channel is a drug. There should be some sort of warning label attached to its programming schedule that says you should not mix alcohol with the watching of Lifetime.

I gotta go, there is a movie about a woman whose husband beats her. I may as well get a margarita, this could be a long night.

Dear Derek

Derek will probably never see this. For whatever reason, I feel the need to "talk" to each of my children. And I must be honest. Derek is the product of my first marriage. I was 16 when he was born. I was a horrible mother to him, still am. You may wonder why at this age am I still a bad mother to him. I wonder too. I think I have so much guilt and so much to make up for that I think it is impossible, so I really don't even try.

I think our children just want us to be honest, so here goes. Derek has been cheated. He has been cheated out of a good mother. I cannot make up for it, I don't even try anymore. I haven't tried for years. I always felt like I was so bad to him that no matter what I did it would not make a difference. That is a shame. He has become such a good man and I have nothing to do with it.

We kind of grew up together. That is sad for him. I did not know how to be a mom to him. He always had his grandma, thank god. She has been his mother. I'm not real sure how he thinks of me. We do not talk. I have tried, but the guilt is so consuming that I cannot talk to him for "real". He does not call on Mother's Day, my birthday or Christmas. I don't blame him. I tried talking to him on those special holidays, he never returned my calls. Again, I don't blame him. I wouldn't have called back either.

I don't know what else to say. I'm just really sorry.

You are not just the Middle Child

This is for Courtney. Courtney is my only daughter (and the only one of my three children I was able to name). I try to make each child feel special. I call her my favorite daughter, she is my only daughter. I call Derek my favorite oldest son, and I call David my favorite youngest son. But again, this is for Courtney.

Courtney does not get the best grades in school, she slacks off, I'm still not sure why. But, she is so much like me in so many ways. Number one, she is jealous of both of her brothers, she is the middle child. I understand this role. I am the middle child/oldest (to be explained later). As the only girl she finds it difficult to see where she is special. She does not see where she excels. I do.

I never thought I wanted a girl. I used to think I wanted 3 boys. As soon as I was pregnant with Courtney I knew she was a girl. It made me be a more "girly" woman.

She reads my blog. I kinda wish that she didn't. She knows me well. I guess it doesn't matter that she reads my blog, she still knows me.

I remember when I was pregnant with her, the last few weeks of pregnancy I lost a pound or two. I was huge, make no mistake about it. There was a day (her father went to every doctor's appointment I had) where I lost 2 pounds about 10 days before her birth. Her father and I were in Walgreens check out line. He turned to me and said " You are looking a little light, get the King Size Snickers". To this day, that is the nicest thing a man has ever said to me.

She does not understand how much she was wanted and cared for, even before she got here. Her father and I focused on her before she was even born. She has been the focus, good and bad, ever since. She challenges her father, she doesn't know that he expected this, from the day she was born!

Here is what she inherited; stubborness; smartassness (is that a word? I'm sure she will tell me) she is a tough little girl (she will never reach 5'5). She has battled asthma (and oh what a battle). She is so funny. There is not a day that goes by where I don't laugh at something she says. She does one other thing that neither of her brothers does, she worries about me constantly. I know somehow this is my fault. I sure wish she didn't worry about me. She says she doesn't want children. That would be a shame if she doesn't have any, she would be a great mom.

None of us know how long we will live. But here is what I know. I live on through that short, tempermental daughter of mine. Courtney, you are not overlooked (she thinks she is)! I expect great things from her. I can't wait to see what her adult self brings to the table, it is sure to impress. She just doesn't know it yet.

By the way Courtney, you have never disappointed me or your father. We just can't wait to see what joy you bring to others! You have never disappointed! Middle children don't hear that enough. I hope she hears me now.

Love, Mom.

Redneck Mom and Diamond Dave

My youngest son, David (who now wishes to be called Diamond Dave lol) recently said to me that I am not like regular moms. When I asked him how I am not like regular moms, my sweet darling 14 year old child said, and I quote "you're a redneck son of a bitch". Now my sweet son, has been born and raised in Nebraska. I am from Texas. I believe that men should have knowledge of certain things such as fishing, camping, gun safety and the ability to change oil in the car. His father is from Iowa and by no means has knowledge of any of these things. So I have taken it upon myself to teach him what I can.

I have taken both of my youngest children fishing on mutliple occasions, made each of them learn to handle the fish. I have taken them camping to some nice places, and one not so nice place (we left there after 2 days and went to a kickass hotel lol). Anytime I am putting something together or attempting to repair something I try to explain what I am doing and why I am doing it. Each child has had to handle a screwdriver and a hammer.

I love professional football and understand it well, watch it with him often and...ok, hang on, his dad taught him all about football. His dad also taught me all about football. (ok this one goes to his dad)

He used to cry easily. As an example, he loves basketball and plays pretty much year round. But if he got frustrated or fell down he would cry. I thought I should show him his strength. So I introduced him to the "punching" game. That is where we each take a turn punching each other in the arm, start off easily and the punches increase in strength. Please don't get me wrong, I never hurt him. It was just a game to show how strong he could be. Everday he would initiate the punching game and he would arm wrestle me to see if he could win (he still hasn't won the arm wrestle, but anyday now he will).

That punching game started about 2 years ago, we don't play anymore, he hurts me lol. He also does not cry over simple injury or minimally hurt feelings (trust me I want him to be sensitive, just not overly sensitive).

Back to his comment on how I am not a regular mom... He's right, I'm not(at least not as far as yankee moms go, I'm cracking myself up). But I have done a good job of teaching things I think are important. Everything from fishing to how to talk to a girl. I have played the punching game, and held him when he was sad (if he ever reads this part he will be so embarassed!). He is a confident, strong, intelligent young man with a great sense of humor.

Hooray! for redneck moms!

Game Show and Other Motivators

I can't seem to get motivated. The Christmas tree is still up for god's sake. I have a ton of stuff to do. Where do you find the motivation to do what needs to be done? I have a few ideas on how to fake myself out.

1. Pretend like I am on a chain gang and am being forced to do it.
2. Imagine I am on a game show and a huge prize is at stake for the fastest tree taker downer.(The show would be called "Xmas Tree Take Down" and we would have to dress like elves)
3. Imagine that I have 2 hours before a fire destroys everything.
4. Pretend a new date is coming over.
5. Pretend that I am about to be interviewed and the home photographed for "Better Homes and Gardens".

I don't think of any things are happening for a few days, I have some time.

It's Flattering, but...

I attract an odd lot of potential "suiters". They are either too young or too old. Case in point, the recent movers that I used. I had given both a home phone number and my cell phone number to the movers. The second day the movers were here I had the distinct impression that one of the young men was flirting with me, if you call it that. He pointed out that he had popped a button on his jeans and then proceeded to tell me that the inside of his fly said "lucky you". I jokingly said, "young man are you trying to tell me something?", then laughed it off. His response to was hold a gaze for a moment. I quickly dismissed that he may be trying to flirt with me because I was not exactly looking my best, you know moving and all, not to mention that he had already provided me with his age, 24.

His idea of flirting did not end there, he stayed next to me a lot, every time he spoke to me it would be accompanied by a slightly uncomfortable staring into the eyes thing.

The movers finished and left. Later that evening I receieved a text that said "hey how r u?". I did not recognize the number, so sent one back asking who it was. The answer, yep, the button missing mover. The next text was "I can't stop thinking about you". Now ladies, we all know that if this were an age appropriate man we would be over the moon. However, he is about 6 months older than my oldest son so it's a little odd.

Both my son and my daughter were in the room with me. My daughter asked who was I texting, I told her. She commented that she had been privy to his "I'm missing my button lucky you" remark. The next text was him asking me out for a drink. I did not reply. My daughter encouraged me to go for the drink. You would think that she would get that he is an inappropriate date, I tried to explain this.

The next day, yesterday, he called 3 times, left 2 messages. I did not reply to those messages either. Then today, he called from another number that I did not recognize. I talked to him for a moment, told him that I was flattered but that I have a son almost his age and that I would pass but thanked him. He is a persistent little devil after the phone call he sent another message saying "please".

Trust me, I thought about it. But only from the standpoint that it was flattering. Now if he had been 25 instead of 24 that could have been a whole other story, just kidding.

Can someone 40 please send me a message that they can't stop thinking about me? Please.

Money, Health and Love... Choose Two.

I am sick and in the bed today. I have a lot of weird thoughts running through my mind. Enter, the deep post...

When you're up, it's hard to imagine ever being down again. When you're down, it's hard to imagine ever being up again. That line of thinking works in a lot of situations, money, love and health. Which makes me wonder, which one would you give up to have an endless supply of the others?

For me, I definitely want to keep health. So that makes it either money or love that I would scarifice for health. If I define love as the love of a romantic partner, I would give that up so that I could have an endless supply of money and health. However, if love is defined as the love of your children, I couldn't give that up. But then when I think about love of my children I would want to leave them a lot of money, so maybe it's health I would sacrifice to have an endless supply of money and love.

I'm stuck, it's either health or love (depending on the definition). It can't be money, because money can help your health and your loved ones. I guess if you were hard hearted, it would be easy to dismiss love. Imagine, if you could live healthy and wealthy? That seems like the best way to go...if only I hadn't had those damn kids it would be an easy decision.

I guess I better keep love, that one I'm sure of.

New Kitchen; Older Women

I sat in a friends kitchen recently. The kitchen is brand new, ultra modern with granite and marble and stainless steel appliances. Beautiful, but for one thing, it is in a 1920's era home. It reminds me of something, a reluctantly aging woman. Here's how...

The same way you can tell the kitchen is brand new compared to the rest of the house, guess what? we can tell when your forehead has just had it's most recent botox injection, it just doesn't go with the rest of the space/face. The same way we can tell that the stainless steel appliances don't go with a a 1920's home, we can tell your new perky boobs don't go with your tell -tale wrinkling hands.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am a huge believer in personal upkeep and maintenance. Even on occasion, and as necessary, perhaps a complete makeover. However, keep it classic. I am sick and tired of women dressing the same as their daughters, it looks ridiculous. I am sick and tired of all mothers trying to be MILF's (Mom I'd Like to Fuck). Why on god's earth would you want your children's friends to want to fuck you?

Again, it's ok to be beautiful, it's ok to look young. But, it is not ok to compete with your daughters and it's not ok to try turn your son's friends on. It is wrong. Just like a kitchen built in 2009 for an ultra modern home, doesn't quite feel or look right in that classic 1920s home.

I would like the kitchen and the women to make a return to classic, not old and certainly not brand new. Just fitting, and dare I say, age appropriate....

Packrat

Today I have been helping the Ex clean out his basement storage area. That is not entirely true, there are movers here to clear it out and I am to supervise their work. The Ex said to throw it all out. This is gonna be hard to believe but, I'm a packrat type person. This makes it impossible to follow his instructions about throwing it all out. I am pretty sure he must remember that I am a packrat, so I don't expect him to be too surprised that I could not follow his instructions exactly.

Until today he could have been considered a packrat as well due to the following: We have been divorced 10 years and he has had another marriage and divorce in that time period. You cannot believe all of the things I found down there that actually belonged to me.

For one, I found my birth certificate (trust me, no one used it to steal my identity, they want better credit than what I have!). I also found old artwork that I purchased as a very young woman (if you consider Target a gallery lol. I crack myself up.) There was an old marble lamp down there, that I am pretty sure I got when I was 19 years old. Oh wait, maybe we got that from his grandmother when she died.

At any rate, it was like being in a time machine. I kept remembering, how I had acquired each piece and how old I was when I did. Needless to say, it was hard to throw those things away. Therefore, I did not throw them all away.

That artwork from Target might be worth something one day!

Mommy

Remember when you used to sit up all night with a sick child? Not the kind of sick where the child would cry and scream and go rigid in your arms. I mean the kind of sick, where they didn't make noise, but they had a temp and they were listless. That is the kind of sick that really worries a parent (I'm trying to break myself from just saying mom when it comes to children, I know you dads worry too).

My 16 year old daughter is sick. She has asthma and last night and today she has really struggled with it. I haven't seen her this sick with it in a very long time. All day long she has sat on the couch, I have heard her labor for each breath, she let's tears fall from exhaustion.

The only thing she has asked for today...control of the t.v. ( I am so sick of "The Girls Next Door"; 'Rock of Love, Charm School"; "Snoop Dog Fatherhood"; and anything to do with "E! True Hollywood Story").

But, I have gladly watched each show because there was one other thing she asked for, her mommy.

Even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes

Did you ever get the feeling that some really good shit was about to happen you (I'm sure I could have put this more eloquently)? I have that feeling now. I'm pretty sure part of it is due to still reveling in the ex boyfriend's misery. But, it's more than that (although that in and of itself has provided hours of warm fuzzy feelings).

I am an avid Texas Hold 'Em player (pretty good one too). I rely partially on gut feelings and instincts. In poker you can have a streak of bad cards or even poor calls that set you back. But every now and again, you just get a winning hand...you are due.

There is an often used saying in poker"Even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes". Can't you picture this squirrel? I can. He hunkers down and goes on the search, bumping into trees, occasionally sticking his nose into a thorny place. But he never gives up because he is hungry. Walla!(that is what we say in Texas, otherwise known as Voila) he finds a nut. Oh happy day! I'll bet he is so happy to find the nut that all he had to go thru to find that nut dissipates, he doesn't think about it. He thinks about his nut. This triumph provides him the necessary elation and energy to look for the next nut.

I think I smell a nut.

World Class Ass

I have to admit something kinda bad about myself, but I am willing to bet you have been gulity of it too. At least I sure as hell hope you have been! I sometimes get pleasure out of seeing some of my old boyfriends lives in turmoil...I know, I know, bad. The karma from this thinking cannot be good. I just can't help it.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not all of my ex boyfriends that I derive pleasure from their pain. It's only the ones that were assholes, the ones that would be happy to see my life in turmoil. The ones that wished me ill will (I am sure there are more than I can count).

I mention this because recently an ex boyfriend has been featured in the news, not once, but twice, for some pretty bad business dealings (bad enough to make the news anyway). Ordinarily, I would just think "Oh, poor so-and-so". But this particular so-and-so, is a world class ass. As an example; he once tried to file a lien against my house for windows installed, that he gave as a gift. He filed a false harassment charge against me (which he dropped prior to the court date). He broke into my house while I was sleeping with my boyfriend, then proceeded to beat him up.

These are only some of the things I have endured because of the world class ass. So, I think I am slightly justified in relishing in his misery. The only thing that could possibly make it better, is if he knew I was relishing in his misery. I have so wanted to send an email or text with some bogus bullshit remark like: "So sorry to hear of your troubles." You know, something that would sound nice but really isn't and he would know it wasn't nice, but, what's he gonna say? that kinda message... See, I told you, it's just pure evil on my part.

I will not send any sort of message, none. The reason I won't send a message...because I know he would send me one if it were me in his shoes.

I will let him keep the title of world class ass. Besides, he's gotta know I know, right?

Huff and Puff for Tips

Today I am having a pool table moved. Now this is not cheap to do, $245 plus tax. If you have never had a slate pool table moved, let me explain the process.

The pool table consists of 3 pieces of slate, so the bumpers and the felt must be removed to get to the slate. The legs are removed from the frame. Then the whole thing must be reassembled and leveled. Knowing how much work is involved, I always tip for projects like this.

HOWEVER, today these people are annoying me. First thing, one of the movers says is, "We have to go down stairs? I don't wanna do it." ( I have had this pool table moved 3 times never heard such a thing) The next thing said, by the same one of the two is "You may want to consider replacing the rubber." hmmm...never heard that one before either. So I ask, "What is the rubber?" He nicely explains it is inside the leather bumpers and can affect your game. So I ask how much is it to replace the bumpers, "another $300" is the response. I politely tell him, no thank you. He kinda huffs at this. I begin to wonder if he was trying to do an "add on" because of the flight of stairs.

Well, 30 minutes later, the two men (one of which is politely silent) begin to move the pieces of slate. At the bottom of the stairs, where I am sitting nearby, the talkative one, begins the huffing and puffing in a very dramatic fashion. He continues this display for about 2 minutes. I ignore him.

Second piece of slate, same dramatic huffs and puffs. Third piece of slate, he is frustrated I have not commented on how difficult a job this must be, so decides to make sure he lets me know. The mouthy mover says the following "Our tip is usually $25 a piece, but this is a nice table." Hmmm...is he threatening me with injury to the table if I don't respond with an increased tip amount?

I say to mouthy mover "For such a young man and someone that does this for a living, you sure are out of shape." The polite, quiet mover now laughs.

Well, when we get to the table's new home base. There is a problem, doorway is small and there is an immediate turn when entering that room that does require some pretty fancy maneuvering, they have to dissemble more of the table, this is gonna cost extra.

Mouthy mover no longer has any comments or any huffs and puffs. Wanna know why? Because now he is actually working and doesn't have the time to perform his dramatic huffs and puffs.

Is it wrong to tip each mover a different amount? Yeah, probably. So I write the check, include a tip, and say ever so sweetly " I could have done without all the huffing and puffing".

As the two movers leave, huffer puffer mouthy mover, turns to me and gives one last huff and puff. We both smile.

A toast to the "Susans"

How many people have you "cut out" of your life? For me, this number is so large I hate to contemplate it. However, there is one that sticks out above the rest.

Let's call her Susan. I have known Susan for about 14 years, my second longest "relationship". Susan sold me my first house, has seen me go thru a pregnancy, a divorce, a drug problem, and countless boyfriends. She has seen me rich, poor, skinny and fat. She has been mostly supportive of all of these things (sometimes she was little too vocal for my taste; but always meant well).

A few years ago, we went on a vacation together. Here is where I should insert a caution to anyone else contemplating vacationing with a friend. After that vacation, things kinda went to hell.

Even though the relationship was hurt by the experience, Susan has never given up on me. She always inquires as to my well being, as well as my children, and whomever I happen to be in a relationship with at the time. She continues to be supportive, and I continue to be a bit vague. My being vague has nothing to do with her personally. I have long since gotten over the vacation "thing". Now it is just that I am in that "hermit" mode.

I hope that one day soon, I will emerge from this hermit mode and then can tell Susan how much I appreciate her never giving up on me. It's a sign of true friendship and caring when someone keeps up with you even when you are absent in the friendship.

Here's to the "Susan's" in all of our lives. Maybe one day we can each be a "Susan" to someone else.

The Ex's Response...

Thanks, you made me tear up. I honestly feel the same way, but could not have put it as well as you did. You can never be without the ones who know you best. Although we have differences, we did establish an amazing core, and I think that has and will remain with us forever.




ME: I think he put it pretty well, don't you?

A note on the EX...

I have been married and divorced 3 times. Oddly, I really only count one of them as a marriage(whole other story as to why). I count my third husband. We have been divorced almost 10 years. We have 2 children together that we have shared custody of for the past 10 years, and I have another son from my first marriage.

The first 2 years were pretty difficult, as far as learning to share custody. We parent differently, that's a good thing, but it can make it difficult to see the other persons vantage point and ultimately come to an agreement.

Even after all of these years, I can still count on him, and he can count on me. This would never have been the case if we didn't have the children as our lifetime bond. But we do, and I am glad.

We both have maintained the ability to keep the kids first. In doing that, we share something no one else can, no one else can love kids the way their parents do. That's a bond that is there whether you get along with your ex or not.

Recently, the last year or so, I have experienced some life changes that have really set me back. Depressed me actually. I have "cut out" so many people from my life (I kinda regret this). But he has never been cut out, for more reasons than just the kids. He knows me better than anyone else in this world (the important stuff to know about someone, not the insignificant things). He can tell immediately when I am depressed, happy, etc. He always knows what to say and what to do in a crisis. I think he gets that quality from his father, and I hope he passes it on to our son.

Out of a failed marriage, I got 2 great kids, and a friend for life. I wish I could say that all my exes are great friends, but they aren't. One outta three ain't bad....

Doug's Response

I'll bet you have been wondering how Doug would react to the post about him. I was wondering too! It occurred to me that he may not see the humor, or that it really isn't just about him, but, also men in general. But, have to be honest with you, it was a pretty accurate portrayal, at least in my eyes.

The response:

Doug did find the humor in it! Yea! But, he also said it made him think about whether or not he is critical of women , etc. I think the fact that he actually thought about it shows solid character.

But, the part I like best....Last night during our online discussion, he made a conscious effort to repeatedly turn the conversation in the direction of what is going on in my life. Even when I tried to talk about him, he would call me an enabler (perpetuating his behavior of self talk). I thought that was a man that really paid attention (so few of them out there); plus he delivered the line with great humor (another great trait).

I am so glad he possesses a great sense of humor and humility. We could all learn a lot from Doug.

So, you want me to Blog about you...

Ahhh, the blog. My new passion or addiction (I'm that personality type, addictive) whatever you want to call it, has inspired some other addicts. In just a few days, I have discovered another personality type, the one that can't believe he hasn't made it into your blog. I heard from him yesterday, and today. He was curious why he hadn't made it into my blog yet, well Doug, now you have. ...we may both regret this.

I can't give you all the exacts of Doug's location, occupation etc. But, Doug wanted to make it to the blog, so I can tell you other things about him. Doug is my online buddy. I play online poker with him. We have been playing poker and talking for about 3 months. I have learned a lot about Doug, things you might not share if you were talking in person. It's funny how talking online lends itself to "spilling your guts". So, since I am the one with the blog and Doug is not, I'm gonna spill my guts about the things he tells me. (brace yourself Doug!)

Doug seems to have some 'issues" with women. He says he hates them. This viewpoint comes from him having been single for 3 or 4 years (whoop tee dooo! im on 10 years single and I don't hate men). Doug has this problem with his ex-wife, he can't stay outta her pants. Actually it's her boobs(dammit he paid for 'em!). Because of this affection for this ex-wife he cannot maintain a relationship with a new woman, well, that's not entirely it.

WARNING! THE FOLLOWING IS A GUIDE FOR ALL MEN

Doug repeats some of the same dreary mistakes that most divorced men do. Such as (here it comes men). He tends to talk too much about his own interests and not enough about anyone else's. If I hear one more thing to do with running, I swear, I am gonna run off a cliff!

Doug is truly a nice person, but as most men, refuses, except on special occasions, to let down the guard. I like those times the best.

Doug also makes some snap decisions about women. Maybe women do this too, but, I truly believe that women give men a lot of "chances". That in and of itself may be wrong. But at the end of a relationship we usually know we have tried everything, I don't think men can say this.

Doug is also vocally critical of the women in his life. He tells them that they are too thin, fat, whatever. Then he is surprised at how insecure the women in his life are....go figure.

In the end, Doug is a good guy, he is no different than other men. He just really, really does NOT understand women. So, why do I like Doug?

He is honest. Women don't like to hear a lot of honesty. We say we do, but, we really don't.

Doug, in the future, make it all about the woman...If you can make a woman happy, I promise you, you will be happy. It's just the way it works, sorry guys.

By the way, hope you liked making it into my blog Doug.....still friends?

Im Larry, and this is the REAL Furnace Guy Larry

If you read yesterday's post about Larry, the maintenance guy...this is part 2.

Larry, the maintenance guy showed up at 7:30 a.m. this morning. WOW! Earlier than I had anticipated (you will recall he said 8:00 a.m.). I put the coffee on, grabbed my blanket.

I gave up on Larry at 3:00 p.m. I could no longer stand the cold, my patience was running thin, his stories were no longer endearing. I'm just too fucking cold to be patient! I really have shit to do, but I am so frozen I can't! Literally it is so cold, the only thing I can do is sit in the utility room, or under the covers in my bedroom. Even that is no longer acceptable.

I had to go outside and sit in the truck for awhile, run the heater and defrost. As I sat there, I decided another night in this frigid home (Omaha has single digit temps btw) was just not gonna work. I called my ex husband (he really is a peach, I mean it, nice guy) told him of my latest "issue", of which I have many and god bless him he listens to them all. Told him I need a place to stay tonite, of course he didn't have a problem with that.

It's right about this time, my cell phone rings. It's Larry's boss. His boss, Ashley, tells me that Larry could not admit to himself or me that he just can't fix the furnace (he has all but rebuilt it at this point). But, she tells me that an honest to god, real live HVAC contractor will be here this evening to repair it. I tell her I appreciate her call and look forward to warmth, and to please tell Larry not to feel badly.

Well, I guess I can tell him myself...Larry shows up with the REAL HVAC guy, named, you guessed it, Larry. (Did you ever see the Bob Newhart show?, I think the brothers were both named Darryl).

Anyway, Larry #1 talks to Larry #2 the entire time he is inspecting the furnace. Larry #1 keeps saying he did that, yep he did that too. Larry #2 is rolling his eyes. 30 minutes later...

I have heat, and a dinner invitation from Larry #1. I think I'll pass...I'm pretty sure we already had a date, it left me a little cold.

Larry, The Maintenance Guy

Last night, my furnace stopped working. So today, I called my crusty old maintenance guy, Larry (I live in a townhome, where maintenance and yard work are part of the deal). I say crusty because I have only seen him around the property, never actually talked to him. He doesn't exactly seem the type for small talk. Well, Larry showed up 20 minutes later, about 9 a.m. God bless him! As he worked he felt the need to explain exactly how a furnace works. I really just wanted to watch an old movie and be warm, but I appreciate his taking the time to let me know how it all worked. He also wanted to discuss Husker football, his ex wife, his daughter, and a "bowl" game he went to in 1969, he says he will never forget it (I expect after 40 years he is also not likely to stop talking about it anytime soon either).

Honestly, the man had me in a near comatose state from all the chatter. But I figured if I sat and talked with him while he worked, I could keep him "on the ball". It didn't hurt that we were both in a small utility room either, two bodies in a small room was generating warmth.

It is now after 3 p.m. guess what? still no heat, he says he will have to get parts tomorrow. I began to wonder why it took him so long to realize he needed parts that he could not get on Sunday. I think I know. I suspect Larry was feeling a glowing warmth from treating me to the stories of his life. Despite the frigid temperature, Larry seemed radiant. With each new story he told, he seemed to become warmer, in temperature and character. He didn't resemble the crusty old guy I once thought he was.

Larry says he will be here at 8 a.m., I have no doubt he will be 10 minutes early. I will have hot coffee ready for Larry, I will wrap myself in a blanket, sit in the utility room with him, until all the stories are told and I am once again warm, both from the furnace and the stories.

The chirpping and the hot firemen

Tonight I was so cold, but it's Nebraska, it's always cold. I asked my daughter to turn the furnace up, I still can't get warm (this will be important later).

Anyway, as I sat at my computer playing on line poker, I complained to the other players that my smoke detector kept chirpping at me, I need to replace the battery I am sure. So everyone at the table gives ideas on how to stop the chirpping; hit it with a bat, throw a golf ball at it etc. Seriously these were all ideas. I finally take a break from playing to go and check it. You know the one button that you push to check it, I pushed it. Battery seemed fine, the detector responded.

So now I begin to think it is malfunctioning. It is next to the thermostat, I check the thermostat to see if it is warming up or if I am just cold blooded tonight. The thermostat reads 60!!! It has been set on 73! Now I check the vents, cold air blowing. Now I check the furnace, there is hole in one of the hoses, and the furnace room is cold.

Bingo! I know what this is! I am certain is is Carbon Monoxide...think about it; furnace malfunctiong, hole in hose, detector going off when it registers just fine. So, I get my utility bill out and find the area to report Carbon Monoxide, it says to call 911.

I am leary of this as I don't want to appear foolish, but, I have a daughter with asthma, and I am really concerned. I call.

The 911 operator asks about my emergency and then connects me to the fire department. I tell them I may have a problem, explain the circumstances. I am instructed to get my daughter, my pets and myself outside and wait for them to respond. And oh how they respond! Two huge fire trucks and a police officer!

I lead the super freaking hot fireman to my door, telling them I feel a little silly with the response. I am now in the house with 6, count them 6 firefighters, and one police officer. The CO detector they bring with them registers no problem. The tell me it is indeed a smoke and not CO detector and that it is the battery (it only tested ok because it is also hard wired to the house apparently). I have them look at the hole in hose. Guess what? It's a water drainage hose, no problem.

So I am left with an embarrassed 16 year old daughter that thinks I am a total kook, a cold house (something is wrong with the furnace) and wonderful sweet dreams of the hot fireman. That makes it worth the call.

I hope my cat gets trapped in a tree soon.

Hope Returns!

Today, the impossible happened. It is not really necessary that you know what it is, just that you know, it is always darkest before the dawn; and today, I saw the dawn.

Nope, it's not a job, but it is an incredible opportunity that is providing me with some relief, and some calm that I have not felt in a few years.

My daughter says she has not seen me this happy in years, she is not wrong.

When really good things happen to you, unexpected, out of the blue things; does it make you begin to think there has to be a god? or something like good karma? I am thinking about it now. It makes me want to do good things, I hope I don't lose this feeling anytime soon.

The woman responsible for providing me with this opportunity does not realize just how great it is, I don't have the words to tell her.

I feel hopeful, that is what it is, I feel hopeful. You can probably tell by the first two posts that I was not feeling so hopeful then, oh my how things change! So, I guess the lesson here is, just when you think there is no hope, it really is just around the corner. I used to say, "Your life can change on any given Tuesday", this time it was a Saturday!

I hope something good happens to you today too!

Starting Over

I feel like I am literally starting over. I have sold my business, in an industry I spent 17 years in. It is time for a new, fresh start. This sounded like such a a good idea at first, it still may be. But, what I am finding is that I sure picked a bad time in our economy to start over. With the layoffs and stockmarket the way it is, and baby boomers still in the workforce, I am not in demand the way I thought I would be.

I had visions of choosing between multiple offers, all clamoring to seduce me to their company, begging me to bring my vast knowledge of business to their boardroom. You live in the same world I do, bet you already guessed, this is not happening.

I sold my business in June of 2008. Since then I have had a real awakening. For instance, the last interview I went on went a little something like this; I am sitting in the lobby of the building, having been cleared by security, given a name badge etc. As I sit there waiting for my interviewer, I notice 2 other potential candidates (I am now assuming for the same position) going thru the same security briefing etc. As the 3 of us sit waiting to be called for an interview I closely survey my competition. I feel pretty good, my new $300 interview attire is far more professional and current than what the other 2 are wearing (I think this is a plus for me). I am a little older than one, and a lot older than the other (I still think I am the leading candidate based on this), one appears to be mid 30s, one appears to be late 20s. I am 40 (pretty sure we have established this). I am certain that neither has the professional experience I do, so, bring it on! Give me the job!

It is right about this moment that the interviewer comes out and addresses us as a group. She says exactly the following: "We are not really hiring right now. I am going to give you 2 choices; you can either complete a formal application now or come back when we are actually hiring".

WHAT!!?? I am livid, I don't let it show. But I am thinking about the callback that I received from the company just the evening before to confirm my interview time, I am thinking about the $300 spent on this outfit that I now feel looks like a table cloth. I decide to maintain composure and see how I might be able to save this day. So I politely ask if I do complete an application at this time, will it be saved and reviewed when they are hiring, the response "Won't really do you any good".

Then why the hell give me 2 options, I think to myself. The other 2 candidates are not quite as polite as I . They each have a nasty comment and storm out (somehow, I still feel like I win lol).

This is a perfect example of what is happening in our workplace environment these days. We are all scared, and for good reason. I just showed up for an interview and was told to go home, a lot of people are showing up to work their regular schedule and told to go home. Of the two options, oddly, I prefer to be told to leave at the interview time. I did not count on it, people are counting on their jobs to be there.

So, after many months of disappointment I am considering something way out of the "norm" for me. It is something I think I would be really good at, plus my soul needs nourishing, and I think what I have in mind is just the thing to do it. Before I tell you what it is, keep in mind, I have been an accomplished and successful business woman. I have pushed a lot of paper, talked on the phone for hours to clients, etc. Been responsible for payroll, taxes, keeping vendors happy, keeping clients happy, preparing and giving industry related speeches, and have even appeared on local television as an expert, along with notariety in a national publication.

So, what am I considering? I am considering, and actually hoping, that I can become employed as an in home senior care provider. Just recently received an email in response to my inquiry about the position, I am really excited. So what's the problem (besides the fact that I don't have the job yet)?

The problem is, what will other people think of my new occupation? This is not a glamorous position, not a well paid position. I am relatively well known in my community, my friends tend to be accomplished business women and men, with not much charity in their hearts. I will become the talk of happy hour (can you believe what she is doing now?). I know this to be true, I know there will be one or two that will try to "defend" me. Do I really need defending? And let's try to visulaize the next function I attend....all asking me how I like my new job, what do I do, etc. Now, we all know what the job will entail, cleaning, talking, cooking. But I don't think that fully encompasses what I envision. I want to help someone, I want to make someone happy. That is hard to verbalize to a group of people that base your worth on your income and the handbag that you carry.

It could be that I am being too harsh on them, although, I don't think so. It could be that I have not fully come to terms with such a life changing move, I don't think that is it either. So, why am I worried about this? I think it is because I know, it is more than just a job change, it will probably change my life. All of this and I don't even have the job yet...

40 year old resolutions

I know i promised to finish the story, I just can't right now. So..that being said, off to another blabbering moment (c'mon really, that is what this is for right?).

I have lost so much in my life that at each New Year I promise myself it will be different...this year. But guess what, it never really is. Don't get me wrong, there have been moments, when I thought "this is it, new year, new me". Newsflash, I am always wrong. I am always the same me. Well, not quite the same me. I am the wanna be me. Do you know what I mean? It's like I know what kinda person I wanna be, I feel like I know how to get there, but I never do. I end up being a loser, over and over again. Yep, loser.

I used to have the kind of New Year's celebration where I knew I would accomplish my goals. I don't have those anymore. Is it because I am older? Is it because I don't expect to accomplish goals? What the fuck is it???? I mean seriously, what the fuck is it???


I want to feel young and invincible again. Does that really go away completely? I am guessing yes. At least right now I am guessing yes. Tomorrow, I hope that the young, invincible me makes an appearance.

Hmmm, young me still not here. So, I am forced to deal with 40 year old me. I don't like 40 year old me. I like 30 year old me. She was cool. She could do anything. 30 year old me could accomplish all of her goals, I never doubted her. She was pretty fucking hot. If 30 year old me could not accomplish all that she wished for, she was so cool, that she knew she would do it next year. Well, it is next year times 10. I still like 30 year old me better and she was way more confident.

I guess we both know that 30 year old me will not be back (sad isn't it?). So what can I truly expect from 40 year old me? Let's take it easy on the old gal...My 40 year old resolutions are to not eat gravy from the pan; wear something besides sweatpants (gonna be hard); keep my roots colored so the gray doesn't show; clean the dishes after every meal (I know I won't do this); as long as I am at it, walk a mile a day (it's all the same bullshit, right?) I am really getting crazy now...back to something attainable...put full makeup on once a week. There, that is it. It is the best I can hope for.

I hate to think about 41 year old me.

Runaway Mouth on Runaway Blabbering

First, I did not intend to choose this blog "type". But, I am easy these days, I don't give a shit. It seems like whatever is chosen for me is ok. It seems like anything I would choose would be worse anyway. Wanna guess why I feel this way? Well, these days anything I choose seems to fail so why not let the "universe"choose for me? How much worse can it be? (all this will become clearer (is that a word?) as we get to know one another.

I'm not sure if I should begin with my failures or not, but, seeing as how they are so common and prevalent, why the hell not? Number one, anyone else ever lost over a million dollars in just a couple of years? (no drugs involved). Number two, Anyone else ever lost a home they once paid cash for? (no scheme involved here either, and btw that home cost over $250,000 10 years ago! in Omaha, NE.). Ok, so you haven't done either of those, here are a few more bonehead things...did you lose a job that was "sweet"?....let me clarify, I am uneducated, had a job that paid over $90,000 annually, that I loved and I was super good at. (mind you that $90,000 annually in Omaha, NE 10 years ago was pretty damned good). But, oh no, wait for it....it gets so much better. I was 30 years old and had the world by the balls (don't expect sweet talk from me) I was fucking hot, I mean hot, I should probably post a picture here but it is just too depressing(I will explain why later).

I am so not trying to depress anyone, but as long as I am, fuck you, you can be too. Did you ever have a time in your life when you thought you were "the shit"? No? well let me help you with what that feels like...Super good looking, young, rich, well known (maybe even call it famous, in your own backyard), the best clothes, shoes, jewelry, makeup, hair, vacations. This is only the tip of the iceberg. But, just like global warming, it all melted away.

It is now that I find it hard to continue the story. Isn't this where the healing is supposed to begin? I don't feel it. I thought if I wrote all this down I would feel better. I don't. I feel just as sorry for myself as I did when it all first happened. Sad thing is, we have just begun. I'll tell you the rest, and all the grisely details,it's just enough for now....