LaughingEden

Day 42 - Buh-Bye

2011-02-11T11:27:00.002-05:00

Mubarek just stepped down. YES!

Day 41 - The Shoe Thing

2011-02-10T11:27:00.000-05:00

I think the Middle Eastern tradition of holding up one of their shoes in protest and disgust is really funny. I'm trying to imagine us doing that here in the United States. So odd.

Day 40 - There's Literal and Then There's Just Rude

2011-02-09T20:58:00.002-05:00

I did a bunch of baking today for a tea at a local preschool. (I just love getting paid to bake!) You would think that the real story here would be how my oven exploded in the process of making banana-nut mini-muffins and how my ex-firefighter-current-contractor husband saved the day, but...it's NOT.

I had a bunch extra of those banana-nut mini-muffins - probably about four or five dozen, so I decided to take them into work and put them in the main workroom for my co-workers to enjoy. I put them into an aluminum tin I had with a lid and threw in a stick of butter (muffins are always better with butter) and put a little sign on the top saying, "Banana-nut muffins - help yourself!" About forty-five minutes after I get to work, Sarah (a co-worker/friend) comes up to me and says, "Did you bring those banana-nut muffins in?" And I replied, "Yup, did you get a couple of them?" She said, "Uh, NO. I didn't have a chance. Terry (This REALLY annoying co-worker that gives people fist-bumps on a regular basis) picked up the whole container and told me that she was going to take them to her next class."

WHAT?! THE?! F----?!?!?!

Lisa (front desk lady that was standing there with us) and I just stared at Sarah with our mouths hanging open. When I finally recovered a bit, I said, "Are you serious?" and Sarah said, "Yeah, when I looked at her kind of oddly about it she said, 'Well it says to help yourself'!!"

WHO DOES THAT??

Day 39 - Blinding Light

2011-02-08T19:38:00.003-05:00

This morning, I was holding a light up to a page I was trying to read (I'm old and the eyes are going.) and by mistake I turned the light towards my face and was temporarily blinded by it. It suddenly struck me how odd it is that the same exact thing you need to see better can also blind you.

Isn't that weird? The irony of it? I guess it's the same idea behind the "Too much of a good thing" adage. Things that taste oh-so-good are oh-so-bad for you if you eat too much of them. Love is such a powerfully wonderful force but obsession or loving someone that isn't good for you can destroy you. Exercise can change your health for the better but too much exercise can literally kill you (think eating disorder).

I honestly don't know where I'm going with this train of thought but it's had me thinking all day about only accepting what we need in amounts that are good for us in our lives and knowing when to stop. When to pull back. When to walk away. I hate that I'm 45 and just learning some of this now. That's what getting stuck in 1984 will do to ya, I guess.

I really do think I'm getting better at it though. I know now when to walk away from an unhealthy friendship and not feel regretful about it or like a failure. I know when I need to make some changes about my job situation. I know how to set better limits as a parent and in my marriage -what's acceptable to me and what's not - and remain unapologetic about it. (NEVER apologize for insisting on what is right.)

It feels good, and liberating, to have things be so much clearer to me now. I'm finally growing (up) I think.

Day 38 - Pet Peeve #3

2011-02-07T19:23:00.002-05:00

People who pull out in front of you, cutting you off, who then drive REEEAALLLY slowly. It especially annoys me when someone does this when THERE IS NO ONE BEHIND ME. I mean seriously, you couldn't wait another three seconds until I passed by you and pulled out then?? And why, if you're such a "careful" driver (today someone who would not go faster than 25 in a 45 zone) are you pulling out into oncoming traffic, cutting someone off and thus creating an unsafe situation?? It so pisses me off.

Day 37 - From Bad Actor To Murderer?

2011-02-06T10:15:00.002-05:00

I'm watching The Towering Inferno right now (I know, I watch too much TV.) which I've never seen before and up pops OJ Simpson. Freaked me out a little bit. He's a really bad actor. And most likely a really terrible person. What happens to people? How does one end up being a wife-beater - or worse? I could go into all of that right now - theorizing, analyzing, speculating - but I don't think he's worth it. I'm just going to fold laundry and enjoy the 70's flashback. Those clothes and hairstyles are bitchin'!

(I'm also getting the feeling that this movie might be pretty upsetting to watch post-9/11.)

Day 36 - Renee Zellweger Kicks Ass

2011-02-05T23:36:00.002-05:00

I'm watching Case 39 right now and it's scaring the bajeebers out of me.

Day 35 - Uhhmm...Yeah....

2011-02-04T20:57:00.000-05:00

Me. Yoga.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Day 34 - Yoga

2011-02-03T21:47:00.002-05:00

I start yoga in the morning. I'm hoping it helps with my hip. I'm old. My hip hurts. All the time.

All. the. time.

We have no insurance so my prayer is that I get some relief. Limping around is getting really embarrassing.

I bought the mat, have the cute yoga clothes, got driving directions and it's a go. Eek!

Day 33 - Egypt

2011-02-02T22:01:00.002-05:00

What the heck is up with Egypt? And what do they have against Anderson Cooper? Sheesh.

I am all for liberty and freedom and certainly for a citizen's rights to fight for those things, but turning on the American press is a big mistake. HUGE. The tide of support will go against them if they don't remain focused on their original goal - democracy.

Careful everyone. Innocent people will continue to get hurt - or worse - which is really no different that what is being protested about Murbaraks rule over the Egyptian people in the first place. Calm and reason are critical here.

Day 32 - Random

2011-02-01T08:47:00.003-05:00

I need a vacation. Bad. I think about it all day, everyday.

I don't think that Vince Vaughn would be so cute if he weren't so tall.

"I think that maybe I should let go of all of the anger." "Then what would you do with all of your free time?" Great line from SATC!

I don't understand the Kardashians - AT ALL.

I love Starbucks Double Chocolately-Chip Fraps.

I miss an old friend.

I won't lie...I wish I were rich.

Fatso is absolutely irresistible.

Day 31 - Tired

2011-01-31T23:30:00.000-05:00

I've been working 3-4 jobs in recent weeks and I'm really tired. Seems there's no time to write and ponder and meander through my thoughts. It's good to be busy but it's a tough pace. Going to bed now....

Day 30 - What a Fool Am I

2011-01-30T11:28:00.000-05:00

I was foolish to be hopeful.

Day 29 - Sunny With a Chance of Hope

2011-01-29T10:14:00.004-05:00

It's sunny and beautiful here today! 63 degrees for the high which isn't too bad for the end of January now is it? Such a vast change from just a few weeks ago when the state of Georgia was shutdown for a week because of snow and ice.

Emma has a color guard competition at a local high school today. She doesn't perform until 3:00 so I am getting some stuff done here at home until then. I can hear the drums from here as the school is close by. Perfect weather for a competition like this and I'm looking forward to doing something different and fun today. Much needed diversion.

I hate it that things are so hard right now. But I love that I always find hope somewhere along the way.

Day 28 - Ready...

2011-01-28T11:51:00.002-05:00

...for things to be easier. I need some relief. Bad. Really bad. I need things to ease up. I need my life to stabilize. It's not just something I want - I need it to. Desperately. This branch can only bend so far....

Day 27 - This Sucks

2011-01-27T21:52:00.001-05:00

I'm thinking that there's nothing worse than feeling disappointed in your kid.

Day 26 - Pet Peeve #2

2011-01-26T22:05:00.003-05:00

Those stupid postcard things in magazines. HATE them!

Day 25 - A Little Life Renovation

2011-01-25T01:00:00.001-05:00

I saw this poem in a book I'm reading and I really liked it. Maybe because I'm the daughter of a carpenter and the wife of a contractor, it resonated with me. The author is unknown and it was found mounted in a dusty old frame at St. Mary's Church in Rye, Enlgand:

Upon the wreckage of thy yesterday,
Design the structure of tomorrow.
Lay strong cornerstones of purpose, and prepare
Great blocks of wisdom cut from past despair.
Shape mighty pillars of resolve, to set
Deep in the tear-wet mortar of regret.
Work on with patience, though thy toil be slow,
Yet day-by-day thy edifice shall grow.
Believe in God - in thine own self believe -
All thou has desired thou shalt achieve.

Day 24 - Believe Me, I KNOW

2011-01-24T19:56:00.005-05:00

As a reflection on yesterday's post and just for clarification...

I understand and am fully aware of how sad my being stuck back in 1984 is. I am even willing to admit that it's sometimes downright pathetic. Knowing this is why I'm talking about it - in an attempt to figure it out - and get UNSTUCK.

I don't want to live like this forever. I want to get better and be happy and at peace and CONTENT, which seems unfathomable to me at this point, but it's what I want for myself and for the people around me that I care about and that care about me.

So, I will babble on here about it all because, well, that's what a personal blog is about - talking about whatever goes on in my head and in my life.

If it gets annoying for anyone that might be reading this out there, I completely understand and that's what's so great about the little red X on the upper right corner of this page. I don't say that bitchy, just...as a matter of fact. But I do hope that you will come back once in a while to check out my progress. Maybe we'll all discover that I'm not so pathetic after all.

I saw this and it was a good reminder to me about having a more positive life even after you feel beyond repair. It's a little sappy but still wise:

You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she has lived
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday
You can remember her and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
Or you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

~David Harkins - Silloth, Cumbria, UK1981

Day 23 - Expectations

2011-01-23T13:42:00.003-05:00

I was talking with a co-worker the other day about her daughter's engagement which led to a discussion about marriage. Her daughter is 24 and I mentioned that I was the same age when I got married and when I look back on it now, I can admit that I was probably too young. That's when she revealed to me that she was 19 when she got married. NINETEEN!! Before I could catch myself I blurted out, "Why did you do a thing like that??" Luckily, she has a good sense of humor and laughed as I fumbled to back peddle on my insensitive remark.

She explained that they loved each other and didn't see any reason to wait. And that, although they have had their ups and downs over the years, they have never once talked about divorce. I found that fascinating. I thought all married couples got to a point where they considered it once or twice (or more times) in the course of a lifetime together. I mean, how could you not? Two individual people living together for YEARS are bound to seriously consider getting out. I couldn't understand how they had escaped that.

Then I took a harder look at her life. She never went to college, has three kids and was a stay-at-home mom for many years while her husband ran a successful contracting business. When the economy tanked she found work at the school and does a great job there. I admire how she works full time but still manages to run a busy household successfully. Cooks nearly every night and is cleaning and doing laundry all of the time. And, aside from miserable financial pressures resulting from her husband's business struggling, she is happy. She loves being a mom and keeping a home and doesn't seem to need much more.

I thought about my own struggles with being completely restless all of the time. I am constantly displeased with the state of my life and how....utterly BORING it seems. I always want to be planning the next trip or wishing I could go to more shows or hating my drab home and wardrobe and how dull the weekends are. I struggle every single day with time passing and knowing that my life feels just as directionless as it did the day before and feeling hopeless about it all. As a friend said to me, "It sucks that other people are out there living our lives, doesn't it Rach?"

Contentment eludes me.

Then it occurred to me that maybe it all comes down to expectations. Maybe the most that my co-worker expected from her life was to marry a nice man, have some great kids and live her life peacefully in the suburbs of Georgia. And get this - maybe that's okay! Could it be?

When I was younger I always thought I'd do great things. I thought I would never fall into the trap of doldrums and hum-drum. I thought I would get my doctorate and have my own practice and get a vacation home on the beach and travel the world. But, alas, the furthest I've gotten is Georgia. (Although I did go to San Francisco once, years ago, for a week. That was fun.)

What the hell happened? I sit here, in my mid-forties, in my house of disrepair in the middle of freaking Georgia with a job I hate, my husband's business faltering, my daughter (who is New Yorker through-and-through) who wants to leave on the first plane out of here, poor as dirt, in debt and lost.

At the risk of getting all Dr. Phil about it, I think I got stuck on October 25, 1984, my freshman year of college, the day of my sister's fatal accident. I think that when my sister died, then my mother got sick, then she died, then my brother got sick and then he died - all within the four years I was in college - all I could do every single day was survive it. Get through that day. That's the most I could hope for myself anymore - to just get by without losing my mind from the grief and fear that consumed me each day. And when I look back on it, I see that those events led to a snowball effect that puts me right where I'm at today - in the middle of freaking Georgia - wondering what the hell happened to my life.

I barely got through my undergraduate work, so I never did pursue my graduate work and that doctorate that I had always dreamed about. A bachelor's degree in sociology doesn't get you far in life. Certainly not a vacation home on the beach or any of the other things I had longed for.

Maybe if I had been stronger. It felt herculean to just get through each day so I cannot imagine the strength it would have taken to do more than that. To accomplish more. To achieve greater things.

Or maybe if I just had lower expectations for my life I would have found contentment long ago. I'm not really sure.

But at least I'm finally asking the questions.

Day 22 - Feeling Tired But Good

2011-01-22T12:21:00.003-05:00

Just had our friends over that lost their house and cat this week to a fire. It was great to see them and have a chance to talk and laugh and cry together.

Day 21 - More Hurting Going On

2011-01-21T11:38:00.002-05:00

What a 24 hours it's been. A co-worker lost a brother suddenly to a brain anueryism yesterday. I am hoping we can all surround her in prayer and in love.

A neighbor and friend lost her home and beloved cat in a fire. (DO NOT LEAVE YOUR DRYER AND/OR WASHER RUNNING WHEN YOU ARE AWAY FROM THE HOUSE OR ASLEEP.) Thankfully, she and her family were not hurt but they have to rebuild their lives - both figuratively and literally. I am hoping that the hateful neighborhood drama amongst the women will ease and that we will be able to rally around them. I cannot even imagine what it's like to lose so much in a fire.

Day 20 - It's Just Not Right

2011-01-20T10:30:00.008-05:00

Years ago I was in a restaurant with Emma waiting for some friends to show up. It was a Friday and early evening. As I sat there, watching family after family come in and be seated, I started noticing a pattern and it was really starting to piss me off. There were the dads, some in jeans and a sweatshirt, others in suit pants, dress shirt and loosened tie having just gotten off work. They looked relaxed and ready for the weekend.

There were kids, lots of kids of all ages. Some were whining because they were hungry. Some were coloring on the paper tablecloths. Some were interacting with each other goofing around. Most of them, despite the whining, were having a good time.

Then there were the moms. My gosh, the moms. They looked tired. They looked rather disheveled. I noticed that many of them looked older than their husbands. Hair thinning and unhealthy looking. Skin sallow. Frown lines.

It really made me mad. By the time my friends showed up I was indignant and outraged. "It's just not right!"

I just don't understand what we women do to ourselves - and our lives. Why are we so hard on ourselves? Why do we let other people be so hard on us? Why are we so hard on each other? It's disheartening. It weighs on me heavily and has for years.

I spent my lunch hour with a coworker yesterday. She is really hurting. She runs herself ragged at work (seven days a week late into the night) and still feels like she doesn't measure up. A somewhat unappreciative boss and an enormous workload has caused a real hit on her self-esteem - and her health.

It's just not right.

I then had dinner last night with a friend who is also hurting. She is grieving so much in her life and feels so lost. Her husband seems to be bop-bop-boppin' along in life which inevitably leaves her very lonely.

It's just not right.

Our neighborhood has gone through a real trial in the last few months. Families that all used to be friends are no longer friends. It's all rooted in women being unkind to other women.

It's just not right.

I don't understand it. I never will. It's a waste of life, of breath, of love, of laughter, of time, of joy.

IT'S JUST NOT RIGHT.

Day 19 - Long Day

2011-01-19T22:44:00.002-05:00

Blood test this morning. Subbing at the front desk after that. Working my regular job after that. Dinner with a friend to cap off the day. I'm pooped and feel uninspired about writing. I'll try to do better tomorrow.

Day 18 - Random

2011-01-18T21:54:00.002-05:00

I love my Kindle

I love carrot cake

I love that my application for some free (much needed) meds for my heartburn was approved today.

I love that I have a job

I hate my job though.

I hate that Greg's truck broke down tonight. (WTF??)

I hate not having any money.

I love that I'm trying to figure some big things out.

I hate my dirty house.

I love my cat Fatso. He makes me laugh.

I'm exhausted.

Day 17 - MLK

2011-01-17T17:00:00.003-05:00

I live in Georgia. I think I've mentioned that before. One cool thing about living here is that we're at the heart of where Martin Luther King, Jr. did some of his best work. Where he preached and taught and led that all important fight for civil rights. Ebenezer church is just right downtown and it's awe-inspiring to think of all that took place there.

Thank you Dr. King for all that you did for all races, most importantly the human race.

Day 16 - Doors Closing

2011-01-16T09:40:00.002-05:00

I feel doors closing here lately. I can't really explain it but it just feels like things here in Georgia are approaching an end. I felt this way in New York the last year we were there. One by one, the things that made our lives here work are no longer working. I had this overwhelming feeling at Christmas that it would be our last Christmas here. I have no idea why, I just did.

I kind of hate it when I feel this way because change is stressful. Even good change. Moving here 14 years ago was a good thing for us at the time, but it was hard. And whatever changes are coming our way in the coming months are going to be hard too.

But I just have this tugging, pulling feeling from somewhere else. Like a magnet from where we're supposed to go next is drawing us away from here. I just wish I knew where that was and how it would play out. I'm a bit controlling that way. (But who isn't??) I pray that whatever it is and where ever it is, ends up being a better fit for us.

Day 15 - What a Weird Week

2011-01-15T10:43:00.002-05:00

Emma's school - which also means my job - was closed everyday this past week because of the snow! and ice! and low temps! Snowpocalypse 2011. It really threw things off here in Georgia. Now I'm all thrown off. With five weekdays plus two weekends plus Martin Luther Kind Day it will be ten days out of work after just four days back at work after two-and-a-half weeks off of work for Christmas break.

I have become stubborn in my mind and heart about going back to work on Tuesday - I feel put out by it - like, How DARE they expect me to have to work again!! I don't wanna go back. Now, now, don't get your panties in a bunch. OF COURSE I'm happy to have a job to back to (especially in this economy). OF COURSE I'm thankful to be employed (especially in this economy). OF COURSE I know how lucky I am (especially in this economy). I. GET. IT.

But I still don't wanna.

I like being at home. I like not having the stress of work drama. I like puttering around doing what I want to do with my day. That may make me sound like a spoiled brat but, hey, at least I am honest about myself and my brattiness.

My stress level went from a 1.5 on Monday to an earth-shattering 10 on Friday with just the idea of having to go back - in four days. There's something very wrong with that and I'll have to take a closer look at it in the coming days and weeks. I really need to figure this one out because I really need to work because I really need the money (especially in this economy).

Sigh....

Day 14 - Pet Peeves and a Virtual Cocktail Party

2011-01-14T08:27:00.007-05:00

I may, from time to time, discuss my pet peeves on here in hopes that a minor rant about them will ease my intense reactions to them.

Pet Peeve #1, 2011 - People who use Facebook as a platform for their political views. Don't get me wrong, I'm not denying their right to do this, I'm just saying how unbelievably annoying it is. Especially when it's the same people over and over again spewing the same bull crap. Half the time I think it's just to get a rise out of people to spark a political debate because they're so bored with their own lives. And I must say, I'm finding that I'm equally annoyed with people that do this who are spewing things I completely agree with politically! To me, it's the equivalent of people bringing this crap up at a party. It's rude and annoying and a real buzz kill.

Hmmm...those last two sentences are kind of interesting as they just came falling out of my rambling, ranting thoughts, through my fingertips and onto the keyboard. It's kind of true, isn't it? That Facebook is kind of like a cocktail party? Albeit one you can wear your pajamas to, but still, the same principles apply. We show up, never knowing who all is going to be there, and exchange small talk and share tidbits of ourselves through witty banter. We mingle. Share photos of our kids. Update those we haven't seen in a while. Make an appearance. Then we leave until the next soiree. I wonder if someday in-person cocktail parties will be obsolete?

ANYWAY, I got sidetracked there...if you're reading this and enjoy heated political debates on Facebook. Please reconsider. It's annoying.

Day 13 - The Art of Everything

2011-01-13T10:30:00.001-05:00

I believe that everything has an art to it. Every task, every job, every profession...there's an art to it. It doesn't matter how menial it seems to the majority, there's still a rythym and cadence and steps to be taken to accomplish it successfully. I started thinking about this one day years ago when I was getting my nails done. I watched the nail technician do her job and she was good at it. She went through all of the necessary steps to complete the job just as she had been taught in nail technician school (what is the proper name of that?) I'm sure. But just because you follow the necessary steps, doesn't make you good at something. She knew just how much powder and liquid to put together to fill in my acrylic nails just right. She knew how to polish the nail so there wouldn't be ugly lines and bubbles. Not everyone can do that. I doubt I could. So, what seems a rather lowly profession actually has some real requirements of skill to it. Skill that not everyone can accomplish. This alone makes it worthy of notice and appreciation. And respect.

I was watching the garbage men the other day and noticed how the driver would stop at just the right spot and how the others would jump off at just the right time and pick up the garbage cans and swing them just so into the back of the garbage truck. Not a single piece of garbage landed on the street or remained in the garbage can (I checked later). Theres' skill to that. And art. It's something I couldn't do well.

I find myself watching people do their jobs. I am full of admiration as I watch the cashier at the grocery store or the teller at the bank or the clerk at the post office or the attorney in the courtroom or the accountant at her calculator. They all do something that I might be able to do after some training but...I might not be able to do after some training. Afterall, we're not all cut out for everything.

I'm 45 and find myself wondering what I am cut out for. That makes me feel a little (a lot) pathetic. I bake. I craft. I write. Am I really cut out for any of it though? The only thing I know to do is to keep...DOING. So here I am. Doing.

Is there an art to doing?

Day 12 - Baking

2011-01-12T14:04:00.002-05:00

I bake. I'm a baker. I love to bake. No cooking though. Hate to cook. For the longest time I couldn't really figure it out - why I loved to bake but hated to cook. I mean really, what's the leap? Ingredients mixed together, put in a hot oven, people eat it. But then I realized that I'm not that into food - eating it, I mean - but I AM into sweets. LOVE to eat sweets! For me, the end results of cooking just aren't worth the hassle, but the end results of baking! Now that's worth it!

I've started a baking business. Tastes of Eden has been launched! (I was going to name it "Taste of Eden" - singular - but Greg said it sounded like the title of a porn movie.) Baking for the people at Emma's school for years has finally paid off (sort of). Word got out around the holidays about my baking and people actually started paying me for my services. What a hoot! Now, I'm in a place with it where I'm trying to figure out how to proceed. The holiday baking boom is over and how do I parlay it into the rest of the year? I'm thinking about Etsy and using Facebook to begin marketing myself for long distance business. It's nerve racking and exciting at the same time.

I'm also thinking of starting a new blog dedicated to the baking side of my personality. Recipes, anecdotes, ideas, discussions....we'll see. Could be fun!

Day 11 - Unprecedented!

2011-01-11T18:24:00.002-05:00

Another snow day today and a third called for tomorrow! I don't think that ever even happened when I lived in New York! Georgia is iced over and in a state of emergency. There is really no choice but to stay home and surrender to it. To be honest, I'm really enjoying the heck out of it. I love sitting by the fireplace, eating junk food, watching 80's TV, baking with Emma, reading, catching up on movies, surfing the web....no complaints here AT ALL.

I'm also realizing how much this job is stressing me out. I tend to internalize any stress I'm going through and it inevitably ends up coming out with some sort of illness or injury or other signs of ill health. For weeks (months?) I've been having a terrible time with my hip. It hasn't been this bad since college when everyone was dying. My hair is also falling out and my doctor thinks it's the stress of the job. Something has to be done but I just don't know what that is right now. I'm kinda trapped and it SUCKS.

I haven't worked since last Friday and my hip is doing great and my hair loss has ebbed. Coincidence? I DON'T THINK SO.

I hope that this year brings me and my family better health and stability.

Day 10 - Snow Day!

2011-01-10T00:10:00.002-05:00

We are having quite a blizzard out there right now! Well, a blizzard for Georgia. About 3 or 4 inches have fallen so far and there's no end in sight or warming of the temps anytime soon. They're expecting about 6 inches with an inch of ice mixed in. I'm sure in about 24 hours this is just going to be one big pain in the neck, but for right now it's just beautiful and wonderful and exciting.

Oh, and the best part? SNOW DAY!!! They closed schools throughout Georgia before the first flake ever hit the ground. Smart move though considering how bad things look right now.

I remember those days when my brothers and sisters and I would sit around the radio waiting, waiting, WAITING and desperately hoping that they would say the name of our school. And that moment when they did? Oh the joy! The unmitigated happiness that took over us as we danced around the kitchen in our pajamas.

(To my mom's credit I do not have a single memory of her reactions when our school had a snow day. What a freaking nightmare for a mom of seven!)

Emma and I snuggled under a blanket, ate fresh-baked brownies and watched P.S. I Love You while the snow came down tonight. I will treasure it always. I know these moments with her are numbered now. She will be off to college in three-and-a-half years and I'm going to grab these special times and hold tight to how awesome they are. She's hurting right now but is so strong and wise and lovely. I really admire her.

Now, I'm off to bed and am really looking forward to our free day together in the morning! G'night.

Day 9 - Hallways

2011-01-09T10:30:00.001-05:00

It was January of 1987 and I was walking down the familiar main hallway of the college I was attending and I felt very alone. It was just a few years earlier that I was walking those hallways with my mother and sister, Joanne. My mother worked at the college in the accounting department and my sister was a graphic artist and the director of marketing.

I suppose a lot of people wouldn't want to attend a college where they had their mom and sister working and, believe me, I resisted strenuously at first. But, free tuition is hard to pass up, so there I was.

It turned out that having Mom and Joanne there with me was a lot of fun and, in the end, a blessing for me. I got to spend time with them during what we would all too painfully realize later, were their last days. The three of us would OWN those hallways on our way to lunch together or through the main lobby on our way out to do something fun off campus. We were formidable. Me and Mom at 5'9" and Joanne at 6'2". The seas of people naturally parted as friendly hellos were exchanged.

Towards the end of October in 1984, I was getting the hang of this college thing as a freshman. I was making friends and doing well with my studies. I hung out with Joanne a lot. She was ten years older than me but we were good friends. She was always the type of person who could meet whomever she was talking with where they were at in their lives and find some way to relate to them. I had never known of anyone who didn't like her.

But then the accident happened and she was gone.

Mom and I faced those hallways together after that. For a while anyway. Then Mom got sick a few months after Joanne died and the next two years were full of her illness. She died my junior year, January of 1987.

I was alone in those hallways then. More alone that I had ever felt in my life and it was excruciating. I felt like I was facing the world - albeit my small world at a tiny liberal arts college in upstate New York - so very alone. It felt huge to me. And sad. And extraordinarily lonely.

Then, one night I had a dream. In the dream were those familiar hallways and I saw four people walking together. Three of them laughing with each other and the fourth quietly keeping them company. As the dream went on I realized that those three people were me, my mom and my sister together again and happy. Upon closer inspection I realized that the fourth walking beside us was God - there all along with us, walking beside us. Ever present and solid for us.

I woke up from the dream startled and crying. As I lay awake in the dark of my dorm room I was engulfed again in grief as I realized anew (as I did every morning) that Joanne and Mom were gone and not coming back. But I also realized this time that God was with me, as He always had been, keeping me company and quietly giving me strength. I was not alone in those hallways or in any other part of my life. He was walking beside me, always.

That morning, I got showered and dressed and gathered my books for my first class. I left my dorm room and held my head up higher than I had in a long time as I walked those halls. I felt stronger. Taken care of. Loved.

---------

It's 24 years later now - January of 2011 - and I've been feeling overwhelmed again with all that is wrong in my life as I try to make those things right. Two of my brothers have died tragically since those days long ago when I was in college. My two remaining sisters have had serious illnesses that have put their lives in jeopardy and it's been a heartbreaking challenge for all involved. My dad has two forms of cancer at the moment. My spiritual life is in shambles. My husband's business is faltering and we have no idea what we're going to do financially. My daughter is facing some stiff challenges in her life - ones that I cannot fix - which always breaks a parent's heart. My home is in disrepair on many levels - physically, spiritually, emotionally. My health is not good and I am unable to do anything about it as we have no health insurance. I am in a job that has nearly brought me to my knees with its craziness and unhealthy management.

Yeah....it's a lot.

My job requires me to walk the hallways of my daughter's school after hours. I deliver the mail late in the afternoon and it is very quiet. The students and teachers have gone home and there is only the occasional custodian. I see the various classrooms and bulletin boards, decorated for whatever particular season it is - pumpkins for October, turkeys for November, snowmen for December - and I realize that I am walking familiar hallways again. And feeling alone again. I think about how these hallways could easily represent the paths of our lives and the various seasons as we pass through them. It feels like a very scary, isolating season that I'm going through right now and I long for peace of mind and for things to ease up.

Then, out of the blue the other day, I am reminded of my dream from years ago and the lesson that it taught me. I am not alone. God is with me still. Walking beside me through the seasons of my life, keeping me company and guiding me.

So, as I write this, I think about the shower I will take in a few minutes and how I'll get ready to face this day - another hard one. My head will be held higher than it was yesterday and I will take a deep breath and walk through it - not alone at all - but with all of the companionship and help that I need.

We'll get through this together. We always do.

Day 8 - Craziness

2011-01-08T17:42:00.002-05:00

I'm sitting here watching CNN as they report about Congresswoman Giffords being shot. So sad. A lot of pundits having a lot to say, but very little being said about the lax gun laws in this nation. It's always so stunning to me how most people don't make a connection between these violent incidents and the easy access to guns. 1+1=2. Simple.

Day 7 - SATC

2011-01-07T10:21:00.000-05:00

It's on at 10:00 in the morning and at 8:00 at night now! How come I never get tired of this show??

Day 6 - 24 Years

2011-01-06T11:05:00.002-05:00

Today is the 24th anniversary of my Mom's death. Sad really. Although I'm glad she's not suffering here on earth anymore. She was a tough lady - had a rough life - and in many ways I admired her. I thank her for my sense of humor and my strength and, well, for giving me life.

I love you Mom.

Day 5 - Normalcy

2011-01-05T07:47:00.002-05:00

All I want to accomplish by the end of 2011 is some normalcy. I want Greg to have a job to go to everyday that he enjoys and can earn a living at and then come home. I want the same for myself - a job that I can go to that I can weave within the needs of my family members, earn a few bucks and then come home. I want Emma to go to school, do her best, have some fun and come home. I want our evenings to be calm and peaceful and a time that we can just BE.

I want to be able to pay our bills.

I want to be able to go to the doctor and not have to worry that if I do, we might not be able to buy gas or groceries that week.

I want to be able to do some modest repairs and maintenance on my home.

I want to be able to belly laugh again and mean it.

I want the same for Emma.

And just now, this second, I heard on Good Morning America that Roseanne Barr is planning on running for President. Yeah, that will bring some NORMALCY.

OMG....

Day 4 - Answers

2011-01-04T08:24:00.003-05:00

I've learned over the last 14 years that being a good parent doesn't mean always having all of the answers. Being a good parent means being willing to look for the answers until you find them.

I am doing that now for my daughter about some things and I'm scared. I want to do right by her. I want her to have what she needs and what will make her happy. I feel bewildered and lost and completely incompetent.

But, I've been in this position before - many times since she was born - and I will seek the answers until I find them for her, praying that I get it right.

Day 3 - I Seem To Annoy People

2011-01-03T11:09:00.004-05:00

I've noticed lately that I really seem to annoy people. I can't really figure out what about me is so annoying, but apparently it's out there because people keep deep sighing around me. I try not to take it all personally. People have so much going on in their personal lives that I'm barely more than a tiny little gnat in their lives. But I'm still that gnat. You know, the one buzzing around your head and you can't swat it or catch it or kill it EVEN THOUGH YOU WANT TO SO BADLY. That's me apparently. Or at least that's how I feel. It's a rotten feeling. And since I haven't been able to figure it out all of these years I tend to become reclusive. Withdrawn and hesitant about interacting with others.

I was talking to a friend about all of this one time and he said, "Maybe it's not you. Maybe you just need better friends."

Huh, I thought. LIGHT BULB MOMENT.

I'm working on it. It's hard, but I'm working on it. I want friends. I want kind friends. Friends that are funny. Friends that are in this life thing with me for the long haul.

New year, new friends? I sure hope so.

Day 2 - Driving

2011-01-02T09:15:00.000-05:00

I went into work the other day. I work at a school. Of course all of the parking lots were empty because the school is closed for the holiday break, so I seized the opportunity to get Emma behind the wheel!

If you have children you know what a shock this is to a parent's system - teaching their kids how to drive. This routine of "I remember when she was in diapers! She shouldn't be driving!" feeling is not a new thing. It's as old as automobiles, I suppose. But it's still a shock. She's only been on the earth for fourteen-and-a-half years and in a few months she'll be able to get her learner's permit. It's insanity really. Seems that 25 would be a more logical age to put someone in charge of a two-ton room on wheels.

But away we went and you know what? She did GREAT!! I was pleasantly surprised and really relieved that she seems to have a natural ability to understand how to tune her body into the way the car moves and breathes. There were a few lurches and bumps but she quickly got the hang of it.

Next, she'll be wanting to do donuts.

Day 1 - Time

2011-01-01T16:25:00.003-05:00

I bought a few new calendars for the new year. Half off at Barnes & Noble. Gotta love that!

I'm the type that likes a clean slate. A blank canvas. Fresh start. It makes it seem like so much is possible and creates anticipation of what's to come. Knowing that life can turn on a dime is what makes it exciting.

But....

It also makes it really, REALLY scary. One of the calendars I bought was a no fuss, no muss type of calendar. No cutesy pictures of kittens or flowers. Just a red, black and white thing with large spaces for each day so you can write lots of stuff in it. Good for busy people.

It also has something I've never seen in a regular wall calendar before. The last two pages comprise "year-at-a-glance" layout which makes it possible to look at all the days of the year at once. I thought it might come in handy for Greg to be able to map out his current and upcoming jobs with different color markers for the various types of work. We're! Getting! Organized!

After looking at if for a few minutes though I started to get that familiar, nagging anxiety again. I was looking at all of those days and months ahead for 2011 and it was completely freaking me out. How will I know if I'll even be around on March 4th or August 2nd or next Christmas? Maybe I'll DIE tomorrow and not get those days with my daughter or my friends or other family. Maybe Emma will die. Or Greg. Or someone else I love.

It's happened before.

Someone I love is here and I have plans to go to the movies with them the next day and then...they're gone. Not here. Life can change on a dime alright and suddenly you're in more pain that you knew existed just a few minutes earlier.

IT MESSES WITH YOUR MIND.

It's been a long time since that first loss. The first one that messed me up so bad. I imagine that most people think I should be over it by now. But the changes are forever and it's part of who I am now no matter how much counseling I get or how much I try to reason with myself or how frustrated those around me might get about it. It just....IS.

In 2011 I'm going to try to post every day. Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. How many bloggers say that and it never happens? ALL OF THEM at one point or another. But it's just a soft goal. If I don't one day, or two or many more, I'll forgive myself. It's just a blog entry. It's not a tragedy. But I would like to write more. To explore what can be tapped out on the keys of my laptop - what I might discover about myself or others or life.

So, here we are. Day 1. Let's see what happens!

Still Hurts

2010-09-11T11:01:00.002-04:00

Nine years. Feels like yesterday. Like any kind of grieving, it never stops hurting, you just find a way to move forward with the grief as your uninvited companion.

Many blessings to those families who lost loved ones on this day nine years ago. Their heroism is beyond measure and I am forever grateful.

Just Don't Look At It

2010-09-05T18:39:00.004-04:00

Greg got a new haircut. It's a buzz cut from the nape of his neck to about halfway up his head and then it's his regular length. I was proud of him for doing that. He knows I get bored with the usual "look". You know what I mean - the uniform that men of his age wear - khaki pants, polo shirt, some sort of brown leather shoe, hair cut short and parted on the side or slicked back. YAWN.

The three of us were riding in the car last night and Greg asked Emma what she thought of his hair and she's like, "EH."

EH???

He questioned her about her response, "You don't like it? I wanted to try something different." She replied, "Welllll....it's not terrible. I mean, it's okay - you know - if you're not LOOKING at it or anything."

I swear, that kid....so damn funny!

The Big L

2010-08-15T16:32:00.002-04:00

Every time I sign onto AOL and don't hear, "You've got mail!" because I don't have any new e-mails, I always imagine it saying, in that same peppy voice, "You're a big LOSER!"

Hahahahahaha!!!!

My Two Selves

2010-08-08T11:48:00.003-04:00

A while back I wrote this post:

http://laughingeden.blogspot.com/2009_05_01_archive.html

It's about how hard it is to try to be okay for everyone else in your life but inside you know that you'll never be okay again - not really - not in the way that you were before whatever it was that changed you forever happened. Changed you in a way that wasn't all that great.

I just finished reading Every Last One by Anne Quindlen and she seems to have nailed it in her writing much better than I did in mine.....

"I have two selves now, the one that goes out in the world and says what sound like the right things and nods and listens and even sometimes smiles, and the real woman, who watches her in wonder, who is nothing but a wound, a wound that will not stop throbbing except when it is anesthetized. I know what the world wants: It wants me to heal. But to heal I would have to forget, and if I forget, my family truly dies."

So you see? There's no way to ever be what you were before. The you that everyone wants back so they can be more comfortable around you again. So that they can be comfortable with what's happened in your life.

There are days that I'm really bitter about that. Bitter about others being inconvenienced by the tragedies in my life. I often want to scream at them, What's happened to me is hard on YOU??? Walk one day in my life, with the burden of grief I carry. ONE DAY!! I dare you.

But, then, there are days that I totally get it. I get the instincts within all of us to get things back to normal and be okay. Because when things are okay and normal, it means you're safe. All of the upheaval of tragedy makes you feel really unsafe and scared. It shakes the firm foundations you've based your life on - turns them to dust and you're slipping and falling and grabbing at something - anything - to anchor yourself. To steady yourself again.

I remember when my sister, Joanne, was killed. I left the hospital and went to my friend T's house. I stayed there for days. I finally had to go home to get ready for the funeral and I desperately didn't want to. I knew instinctively that once I went home, to the home that Joanne had been a part of, it would all be real. She would really be dead. Gone forever. Never to walk in that door again. Never to sit in the living room watching a movie with me again. Never in the kitchen baking with me again.

I knew that as long as I stayed at T's, as if it were just another of the hundreds of sleepovers I'd had with her, then Joanne's death could just be a bad dream I'd had. Everything could be normal and okay.

My instincts were spot on: going home was hideously painful. Gutted me. Forever changed me.

But here I am, many years later, changed but surviving. Laughing as often as I can and loving in a way that maybe only someone that's been through what I've been through knows how to love - fiercely and striving towards the unconditional.

I'm living my life as best I can.

I think Joanne would be proud of me for that.

Another Day

2010-08-05T21:44:00.002-04:00

I'm tired. But still thankful.

~A new friendship with a neighbor

~Polka-dot pajamas

~Baking

~Thunderstorms

~Water

Faith

2010-08-04T19:26:00.003-04:00

"I've ceased to believe."

"Believe in what?"

"In sense, in justice. In life."

~Philippa, Heaven

It wasn't so long ago that I was at a place in my life where I realized I believed in nothing anymore - God, marriage, friendship, family, the church, health, joy, life, myself....

It was an awfully scary place to be and I'm so thankful that I've clawed my way back to believing in a few things again. I still struggle on some fronts but I'm working on it.

Trying Hard to be Grateful

2010-08-02T00:09:00.003-04:00

Ever get to a point when EVERYTHING is crap and it all hurts and pisses you off and if you don't want to cry then you end up laughing this ridiculously maniacal laugh that scares the people around you?

Yeah....that's where I'm at.

But there are still many things to be grateful for and here are just a few:

1. Mad Men (so damn sexy!)

2. My daughter's innate wisdom

3. Coupons!

4. Jennifer Weiner

5. That I can eat tons of crap all day and still lose a pound overnight. (I don't know why that happens. It just does. Don't hate me.)

Five Things I'm Thankful For Today...

2010-07-24T22:17:00.003-04:00

....Starbucks Double Chocolate-Chip Frappuccinos.

....True crime television shows.

....A washer and dryer in my home. (I remember having to go to the laundromat!)

....Dooce.

....People with Midwestern accents. (You betcha!)

What I've Noticed About My Daughter

2010-07-24T22:03:00.002-04:00

She's very tall. She has now surpassed me in height and it kind of freaks me out.

She hates injustice.

She NEVER hangs up her towels.

She loves stories.

She thinks I'm nuts.

She's someone that you think isn't paying much attention, but then later, you learn that she was TOTALLY paying attention.

She surprises me with her music choices. In a matter of three months a while back she went from Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift to Muse and Skillet. Not sure how I feel about that...

She does not care if her clothes are wrinkled. I know EXACTLY how I feel about that.

She loves to play Slug Bug. (My arms have bruises.)

She's funny. A very dry sense of humor.

She's argumentative. Drives me crazy sometimes.

She has good instincts. She always has.

She knows her own limits. She always has.

She sleeps a lot.

She's very brave. So very brave. Braver than I ever was as a kid and it truly amazes me.

I love her.

Words That Elude Me

2010-06-22T12:19:00.006-04:00

I dream of being a writer. I love words. The idea of stringing a bunch of words together in a particular order of my choosing - and having people respond to those words in a way that's positive for them - would be such an amazing thing to me.

But, aside from a brief post the other day, I have found that I cannot write here lately. I have so much roiling inside of me every second of every day recently, and you would think that this would be a time of great creativity. A great releasing of the words. The feelings. The emotions. Cathartic, right?

Um, yeah...not so much.

I feel like I'm going to explode. It's an actual physical feeling of pressure inside of me that makes me want to open the valve and scream a primal scream so loud that it would make the earth shudder. Spew a million words with my frustration and sadness and fear and anger. Say these words in an order and in a way that would make sense and express all that's happening inside.

But, you see, that's not my style. As my mother said years ago when my sister died and someone made the comment to her that we were "very calm" (this person was wondering why there wasn't a lot of weeping and wailing) - "We're German. We don't do that."

We approach all things with stoic faces, practical attitudes and an infuriating need to stand up straighter and taller in spite of it all.

My daughter has inherited this way of reacting and coping, and I must say, it's the thing that she's inherited from me that makes me the saddest. (Which is really saying something considering that she also got my enormous ears and unfortunate saddle bags.) One of her teachers told me this past year, "Emma is completely and utterly unflappable. I have never known anyone young or old with that kind of unflappability." At first, I was flattered. But upon reflection, it just made me really sad. Appearing unflappable is a rough way to go in life. The calm veneer will serve you well in many ways. But in the end, all of that STUFF is left inside of you and you are alone with it. And it eats away your happiness and backs up on you when you are your weakest.

My sweet girl...I am aching and worrying about her so much these days. She is hurting about so many things and seems completely stuck as to how to talk about any of it. How can I teach my daughter to find the words if I cannnot myself?

I hope I can find the words again soon - and the order they need to be put in to express all that I want to express. I hope my girl is okay. I hope I can stop bawling.

I mean, I am German after all. I need to represent.

Not So Fast

2010-06-20T18:53:00.004-04:00

I've learned recently that you don't have the right to say "The past is the past" unless you've learned from the past. Most of the time that people use this handy quote is when they've done something wrong....and it's hurt someone they care about...but they are getting tired of having to deal with the consequences of that wrong action...so they conveniently say, "The past is the past. Why can't we move on?"

Moving on is a luxury only earned by doing whatever you have to do to rectify the wrong you've done and prove that you've truly learned something from it - enough not to do it again.

I'm just sayin'....

ARGH!!

2010-03-08T09:08:00.002-05:00

On my eyelid.

At the age of 44.

WTF??

Who gets pimples on their eyelid? Who gets pimples when they're 44?

So ridiculously annoying!!!!

The Fabric of Our Lives?

2010-01-27T16:47:00.012-05:00

I've always had issues with my figure. What girl doesn't?? I know I'm fortunate in that I'm fairly tall (5'9") and fairly thin (currently 136), so I try not to complain too much. But my long and lanky figure is also problematic. My inseam is 34 inches so finding pants long enough is a hassle. I'm also very short-waisted so finding shirts short enough is a hassle. My high waist is also very thick and if it weren't for my moderate saddle-bags I wouldn't have any illusion of a waistline at all. I am also lacking in the hips and ass area. And alas, my shoulders, double chin and big ears are also a problem - which basically makes me one big hot mess.

The other day I ran out of my usual underwear. I typically wear Fruit of the Loom cotton bikini undies. Not glamorous but very practical and they do the trick. The trick being to cover my ass and allow me not to feel naked in my clothes - which seems like an oxymoron - but since I said it, it's just MORON.

Anyway, I ran out of my FOTL bikinis because I was lazy and didn't get to the laundry and all I had left were a couple pairs of these lacy satiny jobbers. (Not much occasion for those lately unfortunately. Although...maybe if I WORE them more often, I'd have OCCASION for them more often - IF you know what I mean.) So, I put on a lacy pair, got dressed and then got on with my day. About halfway through that day though I noticed that I kept having to hike up my pants. Step, step, step, tug...step, step, step, tug....and on like that ALL DAY. It was driving me crazy. But then it occurred to me, Hey! Maybe I've lost weight! That MUST be it! That's why these old-jeans-that-used-to-fit-just-right keep falling down! That thought made me happy so I gladly tugged away the rest of the day and was even a little puffed up about the weight I'd lost without even trying. Wasn't I so amazing?! I can lose weight just by merely EXISTING!

The next day, I was down to that last pair of satiny undies (I still hadn't done any laundry) so I put on those bad boys and then put on a pair of black yoga pants over them. (No, I don't do yoga. I just like the pants.) Now, in case you didn't know, yoga pants are made of a stretchy jersey type of fabric that tends to cling to your skin snugly. I was sure that this would solve the I've-lost-so-much-weight-that-I-have-to-tug-up-my-pants-all-day problem. But it wasn't to be. An hour later I noticed that I was still tugging them up every few steps. Step, step, step, tug...

That's when it hit me.

I haven't lost weight. IT'S THE SATIN UNDIES. All of these years, little did I know, that it was my practical cotton undies that had been keeping my pants up. My assless, hipless, waistless figure gave nothing for the pants to hang onto. The friction from the cotton-on-cotton held my pants in place whereas the slippery satin ones just let them slide on down all willy-nilly like.

I was so disappointed. Disillusioned. Distraught.

I had not lost weight. And even worse, I was not cut out for the sexy satin undies. I was doomed to be a cotton undies gal forever and there was nothing I could do about it.

Or so I thought.

When I told my tale to Emma and lamented my boring underwear destiny, she sighed heavily, closed her eyes as if to find her patience somewhere deep inside of her soul, took a deep breath and said, "Why don't you just wear a belt, Mom?"

My Next Husband

2009-12-14T12:00:00.000-05:00

I have a new crush. Big time. One that hit me quite suddenly about two weeks ago when he made me laugh.

I hate to admit this but...I'm pretty easy. If you have a nice smile (I have this thing about mouths), pour me a glass of wine and make me laugh, you can be pretty confident that your chances of getting lucky are quite high.

This man has a great smile and I just know that if I asked him really nicely he'd happily pour me a glass of wine. I've known him for a long time - always thought he was cute and extremely talented - but didn't think about him much beyond that. Then I saw him interviewed on television and learned that the. man. is. FUNNY. He had the audience cracking up and me SWOONING. I decided right then and there that I was going to marry him. That he would be my next husband. That I would meet him somehow and that we would get married.

It's good to have goals.

He's currently in a committed relationship. Oh, and so am I. But that's neither here nor there. We will get married. And he will smile at me a lot and pour me lots of wine. He may even sing to me sometimes which would be fan-freaking-tastic. But mostly he'll make me laugh a lot. Then he'll get lucky. Marriage is give and take after all.

So Michael, if you're out there, and you happen to read this, I'm here.....waiting.....waiting to be the next Mrs. Buble. (I even have "Our Song" picked out. You're going to sing it to me at the wedding. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KeKtB2EhdaE)

An Old Friend Reaches a Milestone

2009-12-12T16:33:00.003-05:00

Happy birthday dear old friend. And even though you're 40 today I don't mean "old" as in OLD. Forty years looks great on you, I'm sure. I miss you and hope you have an amazing celebration. You deserve that.

Where Does She Get This Stuff?

2009-11-21T23:35:00.003-05:00

Emma told me today that she's "just humoring" me. I don't even know what we were talking about. All I remember is my shock over her saying that to me. I don't think, in the tone and mood that it was said, that it was meant disrespectfully. I think she just happened to learn a new catchphrase and used it perfectly. It made me laugh out loud and feel proud of her that she's developing quite a sense of humor. She laughed too.

What a great thing. Us laughing together.

25 Years Ago

2009-10-27T07:24:00.003-04:00

Two days ago marked the twenty-five year anniversary of the day we got the phone call that would change us forever. It was the beginning of a series of events that destroyed us in a way, but also made us stronger in a way too.

I would rather have stayed the weaker version of myself, frankly.

My 29-year-old sister, Joanne, was stepping off a commuter train. A conductor didn't look back like he should have and moved the train forward. She stumbled. She hit her head on the concrete platform.

And died.

Today marks the day that they took her off the machines that were keeping her alive.

Oh, how I miss her.

Being Brought Up To Speed

2009-10-21T18:48:00.004-04:00

Emma is thirteen. Thirteen is hard. Not hard in the way I feared when I thought about thirteen so many years ago when she was a baby. I feared she'd be addicted to meth or something by thirteen. But she's not. She's a great kid - good grades, well-behaved, involved in some fun healthy activities, lots of friends.

But...

It's still hard.

She wants more independence from me and I understand that. It's what we all really ultimately want for our kids, isn't it? We want them to be healthy, happy, independent, contributing adults. They aren't going to get there if they remain dependent on us. It has to happen sometime and thirteen seems to be the age that the inevitable occurs.

But oh how I miss her. I miss knowing everything about her life (her friends do now). I miss being the go-to person in her life (her friends are now). I miss hanging out with her (she hangs out with her friends now). I miss her wearing princess dresses (none of her friends would be caught dead in one now).

I will admit that I'm one of the more fortunate moms though. She does seem to share more with me than her friends share with their moms. The silence that descends between mother and child at this age is so very hard to accept. And from what the other mothers tell me, they have to keep getting their hearing checked to make sure they haven't suddenly gone deaf. Ooooohhhh, I haven't gone deaf. WHEW! It's just my kid pretending that I don't exist! What. a. RE-LIEF!!

With this in mind, I will take any little tidbit of information about Emma's current life that she chooses to grace me with. The other day, on the way home from school, she tells me that Matthew finally asked Marilyn out - "FINALLY!" This was big news indeed. Matthew had been trying to build up the courage to ask Marilyn out for weeks. (Which, I always thought was kind of funny because Marilyn is hardly an intimidating girl, and she liked Matthew and Matthew knew that she liked him so....what's the big risk really Matthew? Man-up and ask the girl out already!)

As Emma and I were chatting about this - when he asked her, where he asked her, how he asked her, what she said back when he asked her, etc. - she concludes the story with, "And then the WHOLE CLASS was staring at them all during lunch! It was EMBARRASSING!"

I was confused. "Why was everyone staring at them?" She sighs deeply at my ignorance and says, "Because they sat together at our table and they've never done that before so everyone knew that they were going out now."

Oh, I see. I get it now.

"So, when you 'go out' you have to sit together at lunch?"

She sighs very loudly again, rolls her eyes, looks at me with a disgusted expression on her face and replies, "It's STRONGLY advised, Mom."

Six months, eleven days, fourteen hours and nine minutes until she's done being thirteen.

Narrative on Grief

2009-10-05T15:36:00.002-04:00

Grief may be a thing we all have in common, but it looks different on everyone.

It isn't just death we have to grieve...it's life, it's loss, it's change.

And when we wonder why it has to suck so much sometimes...has to hurt so bad...the thing we gotta try to remember is that it can turn on a dime.

That's how you stay alive. When it hurts so much that you can't breathe. That's how you survive....

By remembering that one day, somehow, impossibly, you won't feel this way.

It won't hurt this much.

Grief comes in its own time for everyone. In its own way.

So the best we can do - the best anyone can do - is try for honesty.

The really crappy thing, the very worst part of grief, is that you can't control it.

The best we can do is try to let ourselves feel it when it comes...

And let it go when we can.

The very worst part, is the minute you think you're past it, it starts all over again.

And always...

every time...

It takes your breath away.

Grey's Anatomy
2009

One of Those Lifetimes

2009-10-04T17:32:00.002-04:00

Lately, I feel like everyday is about all that I do wrong and all that I don't do right.

It's discouraging.

From Here to There

2009-10-02T15:17:00.007-04:00

I went on a trip last week. A special occasion. One that I frankly never thought I'd get celebrate. But I did, so I went. And it was fun!

Except for the getting there and the getting back that is. I hate that part. Every time I travel I try to psyche myself up for it. Talk myself out of the foul mood (and mouth) that I have by the time I reach my destination. I just hate it so very much. Drive the car to the parking lot, take the parking lot shuttle to the airport, take the airport train to the plane, take the plane to the next airport, take the train (or tram or whatever that particular airport is calling it) to the baggage claim, take the shuttle to the car rental place, drive the rental car to the hotel....

HATING IT!!

Right about the time I get to the car rental place I am fit to be tied. So pissed off. Irrational, I know, but it just drives me nuts, all of the transferring of bodies and luggage and purses and carry-ons and just OMG all of the CRAP!

None of that even addresses the fear I have of traveling. I never liked the idea of dying in a car or plane crash, of course, but ever since I had Emma, that fear multiplied exponentially. If she's with me I worry that her life will be cut short or that she'll be maimed or paralyzed and have to live with the trauma of that. And if she's not with me, I worry about dying and leaving her behind without her mom and having to live with the trauma of that. It's a lose-lose.

This was compounded last week by the fact that it occurred to me as the plane took off from Atlanta-Hartsfield Airport, how completely and utterly INSANE flying is. I mean, it really is - INSANE. It's just nuts. But all transportation is, I guess. Hundreds of millions of us get inside these little rooms with seats in them and proceed to roll about on these things called roads so we can get from here to there quicker than our feet can take us.

Then, when we fly we still get in a little room - a long tubular room - and sit our asses down and then we let another person - the pilot - rev those engines full speed and lift the tubular room that we're all sitting in (that includes a gas tank with hundreds of gallons of flammable liquid in it) OFF THE GROUND AND INTO THE SKY. All so we can get from here to there faster than our cars or buses or trains or subways can take us.

It's crazy stuff, I tell ya. CRA-ZY.

But here's the kicker. I love to travel. I want to see every country in the world. I want to experience other cultures. I want to meet the people and smell the smells and see the sights. Whenever asked, "What would you do if you had a million dol----" They don't even have to finish their question. My answer is always a definitive, "Travel."

So, I suck it up and try to do better with my mood and patience each time I go somewhere. I work hard not to think about how totally bonkers it is to put myself on these various modes of transportation. And I always try to remember that, for me, traveling is not about the journey and all about the destination.

Did This Really Happen?

2009-09-11T19:29:00.002-04:00

I know this sounds stupid, but there are times when I still can't believe that the events of September 11th actually happened. It's still so ridiculously shocking. And so devastatingly sad. I tuck the memories of that day away most of the time because it's just too painful to recall the horror too often.

I love New York. I consider it home. I consider myself a New Yorker. I consider the people there my people. They're who I am most comfortable with. They are who I weep for every year on this day.

Much love to those families that are hurting today. Many thanks to all of the heroes.

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails?

2009-08-23T18:10:00.003-04:00

The other day I was on my way to pick up Emma from school when this guy, some joker in his twenties, cut me off pretty closely causing me to have to slam on my breaks to avoid an accident. I refrained from doing what I really wanted to do (which was flip him off) because I'm really trying to class it up more lately. So I put both hands up in the air, palms up and shrugged my shoulders, like What the heck did you do that for?!

He angrily slammed on his brakes causing me and everyone behind me to have to do the same (again!). I was so confused. He cut me off. I thought he was getting off pretty easy compared to the level of wrath I wanted unload on him. A palms-up shrug of the shoulders was quite mild in comparison. Why was he pissed off at me? Because I dared to question his choice to drive so dangerously with an emphatic shrug?

He accelerated again and off we all went down the road for a couple of miles until the next intersection where there was a red light. Joker dude moved into the left turning lane and I stayed in the straight lane. He screeched to a halt next to my car, holding up everyone behind him that wanted to turn left, rolled down his window and started spewing this load of vitriol at me that shocked even the New Yorker in me. Maybe it wasn't just the words and gestures he was using, but that he was angry with me at all. I was still so confused. What had I done to him?

As he ranted on and on - even when he had a green arrow and and everyone behind him was honking - I just stared at him and laughed. What else could I do? He was being ridiculous. So out of control.

Eventually the light to go straight turned green and I started to roll forward. He sees this and realizes that his time with me is just about up. I waved at him with a big smile on my face and in a last ditch attempt to put me in my place he yells at the top of his lungs, "WHAT ARE YOU? A GUY?" then he sped off with his tires screeching wildly.

Seriously? Is that the best that he's got for his parting shot? Was that supposed to hurt me? What does that even mean? Was a palms-up shrug masculine? Did he, too, drive away from me and think to himself, What the hell does that mean? Why did I say that?!

I hope so. I hope he did feel foolish, because with that kind of irrational temper, he's probably a wife-beater.

I hate wife-beaters.

Their Gang Sign Was a Gentle Wave of the Hand

2009-08-20T10:52:00.007-04:00

Last night, Greg and I were watching some murder and mayhem show that I'm such a big fan of. (48 Hours, 20/20, Dateline, American Justice, Snapped, Wicked Attraction, Primetime...love 'em all.) It was about a group of young teenagers that formed a "club" in which they, you know, killed people.

During one of the commercial breaks Greg says to me, "I used to belong to a club."

Me: "Oh really?"

Him: "Yes, I was twelve or thirteen and we called it Breezes and we wouldn't let any bad kids in - kids who swore. There was this one boy that kept wanting to be a part of our club but we kept kicking him out because he kept swearing. But then he kept coming back. And..."

Me: Interrupting him, "Wait a minute, your club's name was Breezes?"

Him: Looking at me, not sure why I had this incredulous look on my face, "Yeah, why?"

Me. "Breezes? Really. You named your club Breezes?"

Him: Getting annoyed, "Yes!"

Me: "When you were twelve or thirteen?"

Him: "What? What's wrong with that?"

Me: "It sounds like an air freshener or some sort of feminine product."

Him: "No it doesn't!"

Me: "Yes, I'm afraid it does. Breezes! The new feminine spray that leaves you feeling and smelling fresh all day long!"

Him: "Oh stop."

Me: "Well, I couldn't have been a part of your club anyway. I'm a 'bad kid'. I swear too much."

Him: "You're right, you couldn't have. I wouldn't have let you in."

Let me tell ya, it's SO intimidating to be put in your place by a Breezes member.

I Think I'm a Facebook Ho

2009-08-11T18:02:00.021-04:00

In life, I've always played it pretty safe. I was a "good girl" that never rocked the boat much. I had friends but not much of a life. In middle school and early high school I would go to the occasional birthday party and other special events, but I didn't Go Out. I was introduced to Going Out in 9th grade. I had made a new friend, a girl named Caroline, and she used to ask me every Monday what I did over the weekend. Um, what did I do?, What did I do?, I'd think as I racked my brain for something to say..."Uh, I went to the grocery store with my mom." I'd reply. She would give me a look something similar to what you'd give a puppy that had just been kicked.

After a while of this, her expression changed from one of pity to one of mild annoyance, "You need to Go Out more. Don't you ever Go Out?" Sure! I'd think defensively. I Go Out! I DO things! I have a LIFE!

Uh, yeah, not really.

Her persistence got me thinking...So people Go Out just for the sake of Going Out? They seek out fun and don't wait for an invitation to fun? What does one do when they Go Out? When one is Out how does one dress? When the person Going Out can't drive yet, how does the Goer Outter get to where one is Going Out? And lastly, how do I get these questions answered without actually asking the questions because the questions are just too embarrassing a set of questions to ask?

Luckily, Caroline was generous of spirit and soon enough asked me to Go Out with her one weekend. I made the announcement to my mother earlier that week that I was Going Out with Caroline that weekend, which led to a whole big discussion similar to the ones I'd been having with myself in the preceding weeks - "What do you mean, you're Going Out? Where are you going? What will you be doing?" But I played it cool, "You know, Going Out Mom. Just hanging out together for fun." Now it was her turn to give me a look. But this look was not one of pity or annoyance. It was one of distinct disapproval. "I don't like this 'hanging out' business, Rachel. Going Out just to Go Out - It leads to trouble."

I responded with the obligatory rolling of the eyes and reassured her that we were just going to the mall to walk around. "It'll be good exercise for me mom. And I'll make friends. And I'll get dinner for myself so you won't have to cook that night. And Caroline's parents will be driving us so you don't have to...."

Her turn to roll her eyes. But she relented and handed me twenty dollars.

So, that Friday I did Go Out. And boy, did I discover that Going Out was FUN! And I went Out every weekend after that. Sometimes with Caroline, sometime with other people I met while I was Out. My Going Out circle of friends was expanding rapidly and it was astonishing to me how much fun was to be had in the world if you just got Out more often.

Over the years, my Going Out repertoire grew and began to include school sporting events and adventurous trips to the various basements all around the town I lived in (because that's where teenagers hang out, doncha know) and dances and movies and, of course, the be all, end all of Going Out - PARTIES! So many parties. And do you want to know what I discovered at these parties? Boys.

Lovely, funny, silly, amazing boys.

And do you want to know what else I discovered? KISSING boys.

I discovered that kissing boys was AWESOME. Kissing is way underrated. Many people see it as the first step towards some other, better, end goal, if you know what I mean. Not me. For me, kissing was the best part. The way the stomach does that massive dip when the boy you're kissing is good at what he does....Spectacular.

So I kissed boys. And if I'm being honest, I kissed lots of boys. And one of the best things about my memories of them is that, for the most part (ahem), that's all I did with these boys. Lots and lots of kissing.

Fast forward nearly thirty (gulp) years to a being married for twenty years, having one 13-year-old daughter, lots of life behind me and a little thing called Facebook.

Facebook is really quite something. As I've written here before, it's amazing to reconnect with people that you knew years ago. There's something quite redemptive about it. Old questions answered, old hurts set aside with the wisdom of time and old friendships renewed.

There's also something quite bizarre about it too. When I look at my "Friends" list, I see it. There it is, my life in front of me, represented in one place all compressed together - past meeting present. It's very telling of who you are and who you were and who the people were that got you from there to here. How far you've come and how much you may still be stuck in some ways.

Two of the best features of Facebook are the status updates and the IM Chat option. Status updates are when your Friends write little blurbs about what they're doing, what's on their mind, how they're feeling, to vent or to communicate some news. The Chat option is when you can instant message your Friends that happen to be logged onto Facebook the same time you are. Being as nosy as I am, I check the Chat list fairly frequently to see who's on. Once in a while I'll have an IM chat but mostly I just play voyeur.

The other day, I was looking at the Chat list to see who was logged-on. It was a long list of men. Eight of them. Some from high school. Some from college. Some from after college. Some from a time I'd prefer not to get into here. All of them, but one, I had made out with.

WTF and OMG.

I am such a slut.

Can you imagine? It's like walking into a party and every guest standing around is someone that you've know personally. Personally, as in swapped spit with. Were nose-to-nose with. Made yummy noises with as your teeth clunked together.

I don't know...there's something very disconcerting about it. Having all of those experiences that took place over a ten-year-period, right there, compressed into one list - in black and white - in front of me. Makes me wonder, do other people have the same experience on their Facebook page? Is their (albeit, rather innocent) sexual history staring them in the face? Do they run the risk of entering a virtual room filled with all of those shared secrets between them every time they sign on? And the kicker is, that those seven boys on that chat list? They're only the ones that are Facebook members! They're just a small percentage of the boys that I actually kissed in that ten year period.

It's embarrassing.

Hello. My name is Rachel and I'm a Facebook ho.

MJ

2009-07-07T21:00:00.003-04:00

I was at Emma's swim meet when I heard the news. My first thought was of my friend, T, and all of the great times we had with Michael Jackson. My second thought was, He's free. He's finally free. I assumed at first, sadly, that it had been a suicide and was shocked to hear that it was his heart. It's like his heart broke one last time.

I watched the memorial service today and was sad, of course, but not weeping and wailing.

Until that is, his daughter, Paris, spoke in a pure from the heart unscripted moment. Then I lost it. Those poor kids. Losing a loved one suddenly can really do a number on you. I know.

I have felt ambivalent about MJ for years now. It was one of those situations where you heard the rumors, didn't want to believe them, but still feared them to be true. And then we were left never really knowing for sure the truth of the situation.

But I have to believe after hearing his daughter speak today, that he indeed was a loving father and that he didn't and couldn't harm children. That he was just eccentric and it caused unusual behavior and, in turn, he was misunderstood.

Whatever the truth is, it's between him and God now. And none of that changes the fact that he was a huge, happy part of my childhood and I'll always remember him for that. The guy could perform!

Thanks MJ. Rest in peace.

It's Hard, This Letting Go Thing...

2009-07-06T16:07:00.010-04:00

The other day we were at a 4th of July party and my girl, Emma, bopped on by me as I sat at the bar yacking with some friends. I impulsively grabbed her and wrapped her in a big bear hug. Squeezing her tight and kissing her cheek over and over again. After a few moments she said, "Mom...." as in, LET GO! You're crushing me!

I didn't. I held on and said, "Do I have to let go? Tell me I don't ever have to let go." Then we both laughed and I finally released her. But as I watched her walk away I suddenly became very sad. I truly was just talking about never wanting to stop hugging her at first, but then I know suddenly that I was really talking about something bigger without even meaning to. I see her ever-increasing height, her more woman-like curves, the lovely hairstyle she came up with on her own, the stylish outfit that she put together all by herself...and I realize in one crushing moment that I do. I do have to let go. That little by little for a long time now, I've been letting go. And I felt my heart break a little.

This motherhood thing that I've always struggled with has been going on for 13 years now and without even knowing it, the letting go has been happening all along. As it should.

But man...

It hurts.

I love her so....

Places. Memories. Secrets.

2009-06-28T23:00:00.002-04:00

I went somewhere the other day and it held memories for me. Memories that I couldn't share with anyone in my current life. And that made me sad. But it also felt kind of juicy. Do you know what I mean?

When you're a mom you learn very quickly that you have to share everything. EVERYTHING. From the moment you are spread-eagle on that delivery table sharing your privates with anyone who happens to enter the room, to present day and every day in between. You share your food, your craft supplies, your bed, your clothes and make-up (if you have a girl - or a very fancy boy), your time, your illnesses, your body (they're always crawling on, leaning on, leaving some sort of bodily fluid on, sitting on, your body), your running errands time, your what-was-supposed-to-be-MY-alone-time, your beverage straws, your car, your bathroom, your television, your husband, your....everything.....

So when you have a secret - when you go somewhere with your children or whoever else it might be and that place holds a memory that no one else in your life knows about - there's something very satisfying about it. It's something that is only yours. That you don't have to share. That no one even knows that you're not sharing because it's locked in the private vault of your mind and they have no access.

And they never will.

Unless you decide to let it out.

To share it.

There are several places like that for me. Places that hold a special place in my heart. Places that I had shared with someone else in the past but they are no longer in my life so now it's only mine. Mine to do with whatever I want.

I choose to keep these memories mine alone. Close to my heart. Safe in my mind. At the same time keeping others safe with the lack of information. Things they don't ever need to know about.

I often wonder if everyone has secrets like this.

Or am I the only one?

Bubbies

2009-06-21T17:04:00.002-04:00

WHAT is with the BREASTS on Real Housewives of New Jersey?! They're all huge! HUGE!!

Can You Say Codependent?

2009-06-21T11:32:00.002-04:00

Is anyone else as STRESSED OUT as I am about John and Kate Gosselin? I mean, seriously...my stomach starts to hurt every time I see a commercial or magazine cover about them. Can't those two kids just find a way to get along? I keep vowing that I will not watch the show anymore because I'm on the "I will not contribute the demise of this family by supporting the airing of their pain and suffering" bandwagon, but I gotta tell ya, it's hard not to watch. I can't not look at it. I'm in knots about the BIG Announcement tomorrow night. And we have what? Like 36 more episodes to go this season? What the hell are they going to fill all of those half-hour times slots with? Jon looking for an apartment? His first lay after Kate? (Or did that already happen?) Kate's ceremoniously taking off her wedding ring? The kids deciding how they want to decorate their "other room" at Daddy's house?

It's horrible! Just so very icky. I sure hope that the money they're raking in is still worth it to them in the end. They'll need it for all the therapy bills they're going to have.

12:50 p.m.

2009-06-10T19:02:00.002-04:00

That's the time we were at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum a week ago today. We had 12:45 tickets and decided to go to the museum cafe beforehand for lunch. It was a good lunch. We were all surprised because most museum cafes frankly aren't known for their tasty cuisine. They offered the usual fare as well as knishes which Emma thought was a funny word.

It was also the first time in my life I had to go through security to eat. In all of the places that we visited in DC in the previous four days - with all of the high security everywhere - not once did we have to go through security to get to the food. We thought it odd but when you're in that kind of situation (extreme hunger!) you go with the flow.

After lunch, it was about 12:50 and we entered the museum. And, of course, there was more security. We knew the routine by then and proceeded to put our purses and wallets in the plastic bins and on the conveyor belt to be scanned and then waited to walk through the upright metal detector. While we were waiting, a very nice security officer said to my me and my brother, "Please open your water bottles and take a few sips for me." We looked at each other with puzzled looks on our faces because that was a first. At every security checkpoint we'd encountered in the previous days, not one security guard had made that request. They either didn't care if we had water or told us we had to throw it out. We started laughing and the guard went on to explain that he just needs to make sure it's not an explosive liquid. I looked at him with a glint in my eye and said, "Well, this is vodka. Does that count?" He thought that was pretty funny. Laughed out loud and waved us through. Later that evening, my family and I talked about how much sense his request made. So much smarter than making everyone throw their water out!

Today, exactly one week later at 12:50 p.m., a security guard at that very museum lost his life to a racist gunman. Although he wasn't the one that asked us to take sips of our water, I wondered if he was one of the ones that I had encountered that day. The one I had asked where the gift shop was? The one that I smiled at and he smiled at me as I passed by him? It made me sad to think about. And grateful. Grateful for all of the security we had to go through that week as we toured throughout the city. We thought it was such a pain at the time, but now I see how important it is and how brave all of those security men and women are even though their day-to-day activities may seem rather rote and mundane to us.

My prayers are for the family of that security guard tonight. Thank you for all you did to serve and protect my family a week ago. And all that you did to protect other museum guests today.

Many Adventures To Come? Who Knows!

2009-06-07T17:53:00.004-04:00

It's been a while! I'm one of those bloggers that drive me crazy - long periods of time between posts - and it's annoying. Things have been so busy. Emma finished her 7th grade year with straight A's (and a teacher's excellence award!). We went to Pennsylvania for Greg's dad's funeral (finally! don't get me started.). And then on to DC for five days to see the sights. The DC trip was a lot of fun and it was great to see so many of the things that Emma studied in history this past year. Emma started her summer swim team practices and has two weekend retreats coming up as well as...yup, it's time that I admit it publicly -- BAND CAMP!! She's decided to try color guard this fall and I'm hoping she has fun with it. It's always fun to try something new.

Speaking of which, I feel a deep, deep need to try something new and find some future direction in my life, but I'm not sure how. I am thinking of taking an art class and finally get off my butt and pursue my art work.

We toy with the idea of leaving Georgia nearly weekly now. I'm not sure how much longer we can stand it here and are praying for direction. I want to sell everything we own and just hit the road and travel for a year but that hardly seems practical.

I hate having to be practical.

That's about it for now. Lots of thought and stories to babble about but I gotta go. More later.

I Wish I Could Say It's Not True

2009-05-10T23:09:00.009-04:00

"Most things break, including hearts. The lessons of life amount not to wisdom, but to scar tissue and callus."

Wallace Stegner
The Spectator Bird

I've been through a lot - more than most in some ways. I don't say that in a self-pitying way just as a statement of fact. I hate that my family and I have had to endure so much. When I saw the above quote it really rang a bell with me. A loud, resounding gong of a bell rattling through me.

I wish it weren't so. I wish that when I'd survived these horrible things in my life I could have ended up being purely inspirational. An example of the human spirit and inner strength that overcame these terrible times with no change in me except for positive ones. Full of wisdom.

But it isn't to be.

I am damaged. And those damages are permanent. I am changed forever in ways that aren't positive, that have left me callused and full of scar tissue. I am more fearful. Less trusting. More cynical. Less adventurous. More anxious. Less fun-loving. More of what I don't want to be. Less of what I do.

I have found over the years that people don't want to hear this truth about me. They want to only know that I'm okay. That I'm fine in spite of it all. Even though they are intelligent people and probably know down deep inside of themselves that I'm not okay. How could I be? How does one escape permanent damage with all of the crap that's gone on? I guess for them to openly know and admit that all is not fine with me makes them uncomfortable - and sometimes even annoyed. I'm always surprised by that. The lack of grace and understanding others feel about the fact that all of these horrible things have left permanent scars on my heart and mind. It makes me feel like I'm not worth it to people to know the real me - they only want to know me if I'm "fine". People are willing to accept any positive changes my suffering may have brought about, but not the negative ones.

And there have been positive changes, I'm not denying that. I have a deeper understanding of life - a bigger picture, if you will. I know what is tragic and what is not. It helps keep things in perspective. I think I'm more gracious towards others and more sympathetic and empathetic than I was before. I've learned valuable lessons about life at a relatively young age that others may never have the opportunity to learn. Most importantly, I've been able to help others simply by understanding what it is to hurt a hurt so deep and devastating that you feel like you'll never stop shaking or that you'll never be able to smile ever again or that you will never again be able to take in a full breath of air because the hurt seems to have sucked all of the oxygen out of every room you happen to be in. I understand how devastating it is to come to the full realization that you will never feel normal again. Ever.

There's value to all of that, I know.

But it still sucks.

I would still rather have my sister and my mother and my two brothers back. I would forgo all of those positive things just to have them back in my life, even for a single day.

I remember reading an interview once with Charlize Theron. She was discussing how she witnessed her mother shoot her father dead in self-defense. How she didn't want that one incident to define her - to brand her. I understand that desire. That instinct to fight the damage that sort of thing must inevitably inflict. But the truth is, it did brand her. How could it not? And it's permanent. The effects of that sort of thing are forever.

But here's what I've learned - It doesn't have to control your life - but it will define it. It will make you into someone different than you were before - good or bad.

And that can be very hard to accept.

So very hard.

And if it's hard for me to accept that about myself then maybe I should be more understanding about how hard it is for other's to accept that about me.

It's just that...sometimes I get tired of being the understanding one.

So, if you're reading this and you know someone that's been through a really rough patch, I encourage you to try to be open and honest with yourself about who this person is now. And to accept them. And love them. And to let them know that you love them. No matter what.

Missing an Old Friend

2009-04-28T22:36:00.000-04:00

Happy Birthday Hannah. We wish you a fun birthday and a lovely 12th year. Dear Emma misses dear you.

What's next, bed bugs?

2009-04-21T21:15:00.007-04:00

Over the weekend we had to run some errands. I put on the jeans I had worn for a couple of hours the night before when we went to a performance by the United States Marine Corp Silent Drill Team at a local high school.

I put the jeans on and within a few seconds felt a sharp pain on my knee. Then another a little higher up on my thigh. It kind of felt like maybe there was a sharp something or other stuck in the fabric and poking me. I rubbed the area a few times and even put my hand inside to feel the fabric trying to find what it was. Nothing. I got zipped up again as it was time to go and, zing! Another sharp pain behind my knee and, ouch! Another one on my calf. What the...?!

I finally ripped the jeans off and turned them inside out searching for answers and there was nothing I could feel or see. So weird. But when I looked down at my leg, sure enough, there were these little red spots where I had felt the pain. Whatever, I thought. I put on another pair of pants and off we went.

But it wasn't over. The pain was getting worse. Throbbing, shooting pain. By the time we got to Target it was hard to walk normally. Clearly, I had been bitten by something, but what? While we were there we bought some Benadryl and I knew it was only a matter of time before it got better. No biggie.

When we got out to the car, Greg asked, "What do you think it was?" I replied, "Probably some sort of spider. Maybe it got in my jeans last night at the high school." He said, "What does it feel like?" I told him it felt almost like being stung by a red ant but worse -- "It's like...it's like...I ACTUALLY had ants in my pants! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

I crack myself up.

Emma did the obligatory, I'm-almost-13-and-I'm-stuck-with-this-loon-as-a-mom, eye-rolling and Greg just shook his head.

Seven Minutes

2009-03-31T18:31:00.007-04:00

No, not in heaven. But it was a little heavenly I suppose...

There's a lot of crap going on right now and my anxiety level is quite high. Normally, I don't consider myself an anxious person. I can be a very stressed out person. I can be a very depressed person. I can even have some very manic moments (Usually premenstrual - it's not a bipolar thing.) where I laugh so hard I start crying or cry so hard I start laughing. (Seriously, I'm not bipolar.)

But I don't think I'm a particularly "anxious" person.

But lately....lately...yeah, pretty anxious. I keep having to remind myself to breathe. And I keep doing this thing where I lean my head back and close my eyes repeating, "Breathe Rachel. It'll be okay Rachel. Deep breaths Rachel. Think of good things Rachel. RELAX RACHEL!" and then my head springs back up, my eyes fly open and I'm all anxious again.

Last night, I was flipping through the channels and came across The Hills: A Look Back With Lauren Conrad on MTV. I've already confessed my obsession with The Hills so I don't feel the need to get into that humiliation again here. (If you'd like to read about it you can look back in the August archives under "There's Gold In Them There Hills!" )

Anyway, I stopped surfing and sat there staring at the TV and became totally engrossed in the drama. Lauren and Steven, Steven and Kristen, Lauren and Jason, Jessica and Jason. I was mesmerized. Suddenly, an obnoxious commercial break came on and I was snapped out of my trance. I looked up at the clock then looked over at Greg and said, "For the last seven minutes I didn't think about one single problem AT ALL for the first time in almost two weeks. For seven whole minutes I thought about nothing else except for Lauren and whether or not she'll get her shit together with these boys."

First, he laughed pretty hard. Then, he strongly encouraged me to keep watching. (Which he never does because he feels the need to pretend that he hates The Hills. And yet...he always makes his way upstairs on Monday nights around 10pm for some reason....hmm. Odd.)

I did continue to watch, and while I don't think it's any real solution to all that feels wrong right now, I do believe that mindless shows like that - if kept in perspective (I know it's not going to win a frickin' Emmy) - can be a gift. An escape. And at this point, I'll take whatever I can get.

What I've Learned This Past Week

2009-03-23T00:37:00.004-04:00

This past week has been full of ups and downs. I've learned a few things:

1) People are a pain in the ass.

2) People are wonderful.

3) Some people will do almost anything not to face the horribly scary path that their children are on.

4) My daughter is a strong and wise girl. Her heart breaks, but she still finds laughter in the midst of it all.

5) I fear that I will never fully trust anyone ever again if this sort of shit keeps happening.

6) Prayer has helped me get through this situation much better than the last time this happened when I couldn't bring myself to pray at all. It has made it abundantly clear that I need to start praying about that situation finally. Maybe it will make it stop hurting once and for all.

7) I feel more strongly than ever in my resolve to be who I want to be no matter who the other person chooses to be. I will continue to strive for kindness and a loving attitude in the face of irrationality and cruelty. It ain't easy but it's the right thing for me.

8) I'm so very thankful for the people in my life that restore my faith in family and friendship.

9) Sometimes a big brownie, cuddling with a cat and watching a good movie does solve everything - for a couple of hours anyway.

10) I need to strengthen myself physically so I am stronger when stressful situations come along. I will be signing up for that fitness class. I need it. I deserve it.

Wonder what this coming week will teach me?

With High Hopes

2009-03-11T00:38:00.002-04:00

I've decided that when the next paycheck comes in this weekend I'm going to go out and buy a bottle of champagne. And I'm going to bring that bottle home and put it in the refrigerator right away so that it's chilled and ready to pop open for when we get some good news to celebrate. And I'm thinking that it doesn't even have to be stunningly great news like a new job or winning the lottery or a someone giving us an around-the-world cruise as a surprise. Maybe it will just be that Emma got a great grade on a tough test. Or that I finally hung some pictures up around the house. Or that the weather was nice enough and my foot pain-free enough to take a long walk.

And yes, I will admit that there's a part of me wondering if this just means that the bar is set real low for us right now. But I'm not wondering about that enough to stop me from inviting hope for celebration in my life. I have hope.

That's a great thing.

I'm Working On Complaining Less and Saying Thank You More

2009-03-03T08:30:00.001-05:00

The house needs cleaning. It always needs cleaning. That fact is hard for someone like me to accept. I like to make lists. Lots of lists. Make a list, complete a project and then cross that task off the list with flourish. But the cleaning never ends. You get it done and then it gets dirty again (rather quickly it seems) and then you have to do it again. It's the same with exercise for me. It never ends. You have to do it regularly and frequently. FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.

I'm better with finite tasks. Come up with a project, plan for the project, shop for the project, schedule the project, start the project, complete the project and then...and then! Scraaatchhh that item off your list. Ahh, the satisfaction is palpable.

But oh, the cleaning. The horrible, dreaded cleaning that consumes my mind. Consuming because although I hate to clean, I immensely enjoy a clean house. I love walking into a room and seeing shiny surfaces, dust free corners, spotless rugs, breathing deep and smelling that fresh, just cleaned smell. Love it, love it, love it. But it eludes me. I get discouraged and frustrated with the other creatures in the house that seem hell-bent on undoing all that I do. Sometimes, on a bad day, I think it's maliciousness, but mostly I think it's just carelessness or thoughtlessness or simply being oblivious to the mess.

Just a few days ago I was sitting around trying to muster up the energy to clean the bathroom. And resenting the hell out of it. Wishing that I could afford a housekeeper. Thinking about how much better the quality of my life would be to just have the damn cleaning taken care of. To be able to stop thinking about it for the first time in my life. To just have it DONE. For heaven's sake, is that asking so much?!

That afternoon, I decided to watch Oprah. How to describe the images...people like me, people like Greg, people like my sweet Emma...

They were living in homeless shelters, in tents, in their cars, in their offices. They had lost their jobs, their cars, their homes and all but the barest of their belongings. These were good people - hardworking people - people that just had one too many things go wrong for them. One more maybe than me or you.

It was sobering, of course. Scary. This past year has been rough for us, as it has been for so many others. But by the grace of God we've been able to keep our home. A home with four bedrooms, two and a half baths, dining room, living room, kitchen and a big back yard with deck. And every inch of it has been moaned over, bitched about and neglected to some degree. All because I hate to clean, Greg hates to work on our house after working other peoples' houses all day and Emma simply refuses to pick up after herself - her one area of complete stubbornness.

So, as I sat on my bed watching these people on Oprah - a boy who knew just getting a cake would be a lucky thing for his eleventh birthday, a woman who cried over how dirty her fingernails always were now, a mom desperately trying to keep her young children away from the male population at the shelter they stayed in, a couple that used the shower at the local fitness gym because there wasn't one in their office that has now become their home.

As I watched these people I was humbled. And mortified. And ashamed. Not of them, but of myself. Embarrassed that I had the nerve to complain about having to clean my house when I knew that these people - and thousands of others like them - would do almost anything to have what I have. To have the "problems" that I have. How dare I lament the lack of a housekeeper. What a spoiled brat I am. The only thing keeping me from having the clean home that I want is my own complete and utter laziness.

I promptly got off the bed and went and cleaned the bathroom.

Happily.

With joy.

Yes, JOY people. Complete and utter joy to be cleaning the toilet. My toilet. The one that I own. And two others just like it.

What an absolute privilege. One that I'll never take for granted again.

You're It! From Dooce To Me To You

2009-02-18T16:32:00.004-05:00

Here's another "tell the people about yourself" things. This has the marriage angle so it seems a little less self-indulgent than the list in my last post. But I still wonder, Does anyone even give a shit? Either way, here we go....

What are your middle names? Anne and Edward (sounds like British royalty)

How long have you been together? We dated for four years and have been married for nearly twenty years. Unbelievable. I won't elaborate.

How long did you know each other before you started dating? Couple of months.

Who asked whom out? He asked me out. I'm way too shy to make the first move.

How old are each of you? I'm 43 (OLD according to Dooce - thanks a lot!) and he's 45 (ha! he's even OLDER)

Whose siblings do you see the most? Mine, although not enough for my liking. They live far away.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple? Money. Not having enough of it. Sucks.

Did you go to the same school? We went to the same college.

Are you from the same home town? No, I'm from rural Ohio (see below) so I'm all hick. He grew up mostly in New Jersey so he's all, you know, NEW JERSEY-ISH.

Who is smarter? We're smarter in different ways about different things.

Who is the most sensitive? Um, me. Although I find myself more cynical as the years go by and less over-sensitive about most things. I have a whole "whatever" attitude now about a lot of things that used to really bother me.

Where do you eat out most as a couple? We usually go Italian but enjoy fondue the most.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple? Probably Haiti.

Who has the craziest exes? Oh, it's so him. CRA-ZY ladies...I'll leave it there.

Who has the worst temper? Depends. We're both pretty even-tempered but I'm crankier day-to-day and he's louder once he does get mad. I don't yell much. Not a fan of the yelling.

Who does the cooking? He enjoys it more and is better at it but I've been doing more lately. Hate it with every fiber of my being.

Who is the neat-freak? I used to be but I've given up. Greg and Emma and the cats outnumber me. It's exhausting and probably in the top five list of things that upset me and create daily stress for me.

Who is more stubborn? I'm told I am but I refuse to believe it.

Who hogs the bed? GREG! He's big! I'm long but he's big. Plus, he's a flopper.

Who wakes up earlier? I used to but now he does.

Where was your first date? We went to see the Oscar winner Street Walkin' . It was very romantic.

Who is more jealous? I used to be but now...eh. (See above answer about who's more sensitive.) He's jealous occasionally and it always takes me by surprise. Mostly because I can't believe that I would elicit those kinds of feelings in someone else.

How long did it take to get serious? Probably six months or so. I was the girl that never wanted to marry so the idea of being someones girlfriend did not sit well with me for a long while.

Who eats more? Definitely Greg.

Who does the laundry? Mostly me. He keeps drying my pants which is a huge, HUGE no-no because they shrink in length and it really pisses me off. I half think he does it on purpose so I don't want him to do the laundry.

Who's better with the computer? Greg. He's an egghead.

Who drives when you are together? Usually him, but we call him grandpa so you can just imagine how much fun I have being in the passenger seat. "GO FASTER!!"

My 25 Things

2009-02-17T19:24:00.003-05:00

This thing is going around the internet, primarily on Facebook I believe, where you tell 25 things about yourself. It seemed a bit self-indulgent to me but I did it anyway, tagged a bunch of people on it (tagging on Facebook is when you alert other people of your choosing on Facebook of a "note" or new photo you've just posted on your page), and then deleted it a few hours later because the anxiety of being that exposed to that many people nearly sent me over the edge. Total TMI situation.

THEN I reposted it again but didn't tag anyone on it and I felt much better about that scenario. Yes, I'm a total freak. Especially when you consider that very few people have any interest at all WHATSOEVER in learning anything more about me. I'm clearly not that interesting.

But this is my blog and I'll be a self-indulgent egomaniac if I want to. So here are my 25 things:

1. I am from rural Ohio.
2. My grandfather is a founding member of Alcoholics Anonymous.
3. I love movies. LOVE them.
4. I'm the youngest of seven children.
5. I've lost three siblings and my mother and it has had a profound effect on me.
6. I still miss them every single day.
7. Emma is an amazing person in so many ways and I'm afraid that most people will never see her - really see her - because she is so shy.
8. There is no way to overstate how important laughter is to me.
9. I have a blog that very few people that know me have seen.
10. If I won the lottery the first thing that I would do is travel the world. I know I'm supposed to say that I would feed hungry children or something, but I would travel and love every minute of it. THEN I'd feed hungry children. (I promise)
11. My dream job is to be a writer.
12. Emma was a surprise. One that I was not at all sure I wanted. I'm glad I was so wrong. She has allowed me to experience love in its purest form.
13. I went away this past October for a month simply because I could and because I desperately needed to get away. I think a lot of people think I went to rehab. I did not. I went to a beach house in St. Augustine and it was an adventure that I will never, ever forget and that I will always be grateful for.
14. I think that there are two things seriously lacking in the world - kindness and people extending each other grace. I'm still a work in progress on both.
15. I love Crunch Berries cereal and Hostess Ho Hos.
16. I really want to meet a transvestite. I think to know one would be really funny and shake up the sometimes boring suburban life that I live.
17. I hope to move to New York City one day. (Maybe I'll meet a transvestite.)
18. I watch two MTV reality shows. (Please don't judge me - I also watch many documentaries, classics and other "deep" and "meaningful" programming.)
19. I think Greg is a good man.
20. Two of my best friends are from my childhood and I'm so privileged to still have them in my life.
21. I'm fascinated by true crime stories. Sometimes it concerns me a little bit.
22. I love every single color that exists. I wouldn't wear them all, but I love them for their mere existence and contribution.
23. I broke my foot twice in an 18-month time period. It's embarrassing.
24. I know I watch entirely too much television but I remain completely unapologetic about it.
25. Even though I struggle with the whole subject matter, I still always want God in my life.

And I should have added a 26th item - I'm a FIERCE baker!

Enough Already!

2009-02-11T14:33:00.001-05:00

I am so sick of hearing about the octuplets' mother.

Facebook is Freaking Fantastic!

2009-02-02T23:22:00.005-05:00

I finally crawled out of that rock I was under and joined the world of Facebook. And I gotta tell ya, I've seen the light of day, and it's FANTASTIC! What an absolute hoot it is. There was this whole world of "friends" and "cupcakes" and "poking" and "walls" out there buzz, buzz, buzzing along every day without my knowledge and I'm glad I joined this new (to me) land of the living.

In the week or so since I've joined, I've made contact with old friends from high school and college, old boyfriends, teachers, my high school prom date and even people right here in my neighborhood that I haven't visited with in a while. It clearly expands your world by opening you up to your new and long lost friends and, in turn, their friends as it is a continuous thread of interconnections. Once someone is on your "Friends" list, all of your other friends and all of their other friends are connected. (In what seems to be a somewhat safe and limited way so it doesn't get creepy.)

On a higher level it also seems to have a redemptive value to it. Before this kind of technology came along relationships would end through a break-up, a move, simply fading away, growing in different directions...and people were always left to wonder, "What if?" or "I wonder how he (she) is doing?" or "Whatever happened to her (him)?" or "I wonder if he (she) still hates me?"

Whether the relationship ended badly or just simply ended, there's something so amazing about being able to interact with these people again when some time has passed and old baggage has disappeared. Whatever may have felt threatening or confusing or weird or hurtful back then, is now something that just feels fun and nice and rather sweet today.

How incredible that the days of never knowing that kind of redemption are over. It makes me wonder about the future and what other gifts of technology will pop up that make our lives more fun and easier and healing. I can't wait!

Wonder Where She Got Her Sense of Humor From

2009-01-28T15:25:00.008-05:00

The last few weeks since Greg's dad died have been hard. I've known for years now how hard it is to lose someone you love, but I haven't had to see Greg go through losing a family member of his own. He loved my family members that have died but it's different when it's your own father or mother or brother or sister. This is all new to him.

What happens when someone you loves dies (at least for me and some others I've talked to) is that so much changes for you internally - your heart breaks, you mind spins, your body fatigues - and it's overwhelming. But your external life changes very little. You still have to go to work, you still have to go to class, you still need to get gas, you still need to go grocery shopping, you still have to take care of your children, you still need to be nice to other people...you still have to get on with it. The friction created between the two truths is extremely difficult and the pain of it can really eat away at you.

But! In every situation there can be found laughter, and Emma is often the provider of that laughter.

When we were in Hilton Head to visit Greg's mom, Sharon, right after Pete died, we stayed at a hotel down the road from Sharon's house. As you can imagine, Greg was a little stressed by this time. His father just dying and his mother being, um, challenging was finally starting to get to him.

The day finally arrived for us to head home. As we were packing up and getting ready to check-out Greg went and got one of those luggage carts. When he brought it upstairs he was trying to get it through the room door for some reason. Well, it wouldn't fit. He kept backing it up and pushing it forward, but it just kept banging into the door frame. I was in the bathroom area brushing my teeth while this was going on but I could hear it - back and forward and bang, back and forward and bang, back and forward and bang. I peeked my head out of the bathroom area and there was Emma standing there watching him do this. She didn't offer to help. She didn't get out of the way. She didn't say a word. (I think because by that time we were tip-toeing around him a bit) She just stared at him doing this over and over again.

Finally, after banging the cart into the doorframe about ten times, Greg stopped trying and just looked up at Emma with the most frustrated look on his face.

She looked back at him deadpan and with that completely straight face says, "Troubles?"

I nearly gagged on my mouthful of toothpaste and had to duck back into the bathroom to bust a gut laughing.

That kid makes all of life worthwhile.

I Have a Dream Too

2009-01-19T16:07:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow is a big day. The first day that "Yes We Can" will be tested. Can we? Will we? Will I?

Clearly, big changes need to take place in my own life and also in the life of the country. Will we pony up? Are we up to it? It's gonna get harder before it gets better for a lot of us and I wonder if we - I - have the kahunas to make it happen. I think I do.

I hope I do.

No, I do. I absolutely do.

I listened to Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech today and I thought about how a big part of that dream is coming true tomorrow. It's monumental. It's historic. It's unbelievable! How fantastic that we are transforming into a time of hope. Hope for this country's troubled times and hope that this country is making such strides in the fight against racism. A long way to go but a long way come.

As I watched all of the coverage on the various talk shows and news channels today I reveled in this great feeling of hope and excitement. To be a witness to this kind of history. To want to keep my daughter home from school to watch it all happen. In a way, there are no words to clearly express how big it feels.

But....then....I felt kind of sad about that. I must be nuts, I thought. Sad? Really? What a freaking downer you are Rachel.

That's when I realized it. I have a dream too. I dream of the day when a black man - or woman - being sworn in as president is not historic. Is not new. Becomes so common that it's "no big thang" as they say. I dream of the day when the same is true for a Latino American or an Asian American or a Jewish American. The day that we all truly have become simply, Americans.

That's the country that I dream of for my daughter and my daughter's daughter. A country whose citizens looks back at video from the year 2009 when a black man named Barack Obama becoming President was so huge and they'll wonder at that. Even giggle at how silly our country was that it hadn't happened sooner.

In the meantime, I will enjoy tomorrow for all that it is in this time in our history. I will let myself feel that excitement and live in the moment.

And hope still - always - for a better future.

Thanks for the Memories Pete

2009-01-04T18:53:00.002-05:00

Today is a sad day. Greg's dad died suddenly this morning and our hearts are hurting.

We will miss you Pete.

Another Year Goes By...

2008-12-31T16:05:00.007-05:00

Time passing is a big (HUGE! actually) issue for me. It's hard to explain to people without sounding a little crazy. I suppose it is kind of crazy - born of a crazy set of circumstances. But it's a topic too big for my hangover to take on right now so it'll be a subject matter for a future post. Right now, I will just list a few of my goals for 2009. I hope to reach 2010 a better person than the one that rang in 2009. She ain't bad but...there's always - ALWAYS - room for improvement....

Goals For the Year 2009

Swear less. (dammit)

Become gainfully employed and ease my family's money woes.

Let go, once and for all, of a lost friendship that still hurts my heart (it's hard to accept that this person doesn't give one wit about me anymore and I need to find a way to move on for good).

Spend more time with my growing daughter to stay connected for the turbulent years to come.

Take a class - yoga? pilates? creative writing? swing dance? I dunno yet...

Meet a transvestite.

Hopefully travel more.

Plan my next adventure.

Use fewer exclamation points - excitement is good but I think I'll try to actually have more of it in life than just in my writing about life. (Thus the desire to meet a transvestite - wouldn't that be a hoot?)

Take better care of my house.

Have a grown-up party.

Take on a new fashion that I'm normally too shy to attempt.

Find grace.

Give grace.

Create more.

Pray more.

Write more.

Laugh more.

Love more...always try to love more....

So Very Scary....(I'm really not that slutty)

2008-12-29T12:23:00.021-05:00

The following is an actual e-mail conversation I recently had with my friend T. It all started when she sent me a photo she found on Facebook. (which I won't show here but it was of a big fat dude with graying hair) Note: The names of some people have been changed to protect their privacy. (And also to protect my ass!)

T: Do you know who this is?
Hint: you made out with him years ago. ( I know that does not narrow things down much!!!)

R: What the...?! I have no idea! I made out with him? Tell me! Tell me!

T: HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA. Facebook...
A hint : he had dark hair and glasses then!

R: That can't be John Barrett! Did he wear glasses? Who else had glasses? It's so scary to me that I can't pinpoint it. Is he from N. High School? I'm such a slut...

T: I'm really torturing you...aren't I? Yes! N. High School. Not when we were there though.....

R: David Russell? He didn't wear glasses did he? I will be stunned if that's who it is! I can't think of who else I made out with that was older (or younger).

T: Brother of someone special.....

R: Jennie's brother? No freaking way!

T: Nope... someone who was a bit heavy then....This is fun...I never knew you made out with Jennie's brother - you slut!

R: A bit heavy! Hmmm...I didn't really go for the pudgy fellas. You sure it was ME that made out with him? I can't think of who it is at all.
PS - Yeah, me and Jennie's brother. I don't know what it is with me my friend's brothers. I promise that I never got it on with Scott or Bobby. {T's brothers}

T: Thank goodness...well we know it wouldn't be Bobby.....we annoyed the hell out of him! Anyway,the someone special was someone special to ME in high school. Now you will get it!!!!

R: I thought about that. Mike Mitchell {T's ex-boyfriend} didn't have a brother did he? You didn't really have any other special someones back then did you? Who was that guy from that local college you dated?

T: It must be early Alzheimer's "Mike Mitchell didn't have a brother did he?" An older brother, who delivered the mail perhaps.....I think you are trying to forget!!!!
Here's my final hint: I guess Donna was right about you...

R: HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I just tried to call you....The only thing that finally tipped me off was the mention of Donna. I remember how she was kinda big, had a lot of blondish hair and hated me. I didn't remember that Mike Mitchell had a brother, I don't remember the dude's name (even now), I don't remember him being a mailman, I don't remember one detail of how it all happened. Do YOU? When did we make-out? Where? Was he any good? Was it more than once? Ewwwww!!!

I am such a hussy...

So Much Going On Lately

2008-12-24T22:00:00.000-05:00

It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Good things and bad. It all started when Emma asked if she could have a Christmas party. "Sure!" I said. Then she asked if we could have it the evening of the last day of school before the holiday break. "Sure!" I said. Then she asked if she could invite 11 girls. "Sure!" I said. But as the time got closer and closer and things kept piling up on my schedule, all I could think was, "FOOL!"

The party went off without a hitch though and was so much fun! I had no idea middle school girls were so LOUD. The screaming. Oh the high pitched screaming that went on. What a hoot. They decorated cookies, danced, listened to music, played Wii and Twister, and then did the ornament game. It was kinda scary at one point though because as I stood at the bottom of the stairs and listened to them being nuts up in Emma's room I thought, I can totally picture this same group of girls playing quarters in a few years. Hoo-boy it should be interesting...

Sadly, while all of that party planning was going on, I got a call from my friend, Lynne. Her father died rather suddenly. He had pancreatic cancer and had a successful surgery but succumbed to a secondary infection he got in the hospital. It seems so cruel to me...to survive that tough procedure only lose his life to something secondary feels so tragic.

His funeral was the day after the party in North Carolina six hours away so we got up at 4:30 that morning and were able to spend the day with Lynne and her family. It was great to see them even if the circumstances were so tough. His name was George and he was a dear friend. He was one of my college professors and was good to my family in our times of need over the years. I will miss you George. And I'm so sorry Lynne.

Last week was also finals week for Emma. This year has been tough academically but Emma pulled it off. Two high school level classes and she got straight A's across the board again. What a kid!

My brother and sister flew in yesterday and are staying here. Our family has dwindled in numbers over the years so it's not the same raucous affair of the past but I am so very thankful that they are here on this earth still and part of our holiday. I love them dearly.

It is now Christmas Eve and I'm thinking about all of these things and feeling so many different emotions. It's been quite a year. I feel sad for lost family. Sad for lost friendships. Worried about our personal financial situation and the whole country's situation for that matter. Proud of my daughter. Proud of myself. Love for my family. Love for those that have seen the best in me even when I couldn't see it in myself. Happy that I had an adventure of my own this year and hoping to have another one someday. Curious about the coming year and hoping that it's better for everyone. I think 2008 has worn us all plum out, as they say here in the south.

Merry Christmas and God bless!

Yo.u K'now, It's Ti;me.,.'.

2008-12-17T06:54:00.003-05:00

...to clean your laptop computer screen when you're constantly thinking that you've mistakenly put periods, commas, semi-colons and apostrophes inappropriately mid-word and mid-sentence in your writing.

What If I Just Let Myself Fall?

2008-12-08T11:50:00.002-05:00

A strange thing is happening to me lately. I feel it coming back. Threatening. The dark cloud always ready to consume me. The living, breathing beast that is depression.

I feel like it's always an undercurrent of my life every single day. Something that I have to battle and resist and make conscious choices about daily. Every day when I wake up I am a dichotomy of thoughts - knowing how unbelievably fortunate I am to have another day to wake up to, but also having to make the deliberate choice to get out of bed and live another day. To do. To be.

To mother. Thank God that I have to mother.

I've gotten so used to this fight against depression - and prevailing over it - that I was surprised yesterday when I had the thought for the very first time ever, What if I just gave in to it? What if I just stopped fighting it and let myself fall into that black hole again?

The idea of it both scared me and liberated me. That year of deep depression scares the hell out of me almost more than anything else. But it would also be a relief to stop the exhausting battle. To just let myself feel it all. Wallow in it. Roll around in it. Bathe in it.

But what a bore. My story and all of my reasons why I'm depressed are so boring. Real and valid to me, yes, but my pain is no worse in degree to almost anybody else's pain. We all have shit and mine is not special or more important. To let it take over me again seems so selfish and self-indulgent.

What to do...? What to do...? I think for today I will fight it again. Not let myself succumb to it. I will prevail again. The fight is worth it. People are counting on me and I need to win this one.

Tomorrow? I'll just make that decision then.

Just Call Me Scrooge

2008-12-05T09:00:00.002-05:00

I'm a nice person. I like Christmas. The gift-giving. The food. The parties. I love all of the pretty decorations and lights. I really do.

But almost nothing pisses me off more than decorating my own house. Every year I absolutely dread it. And every year I try to talk myself out of being pissed off about it. And every year I end up furious and in desperate need of alcohol.

I don't know what it is. It's so irrational. With every faux-pine garland I hang and every light I plug in, my grumbling gets louder (and more foul-mouthed) and my facial expressions gets scarier. Everyone in the house starts giving me wide berth whenever they pass by me and they try desperately to lay low.

Maybe it's because it takes two solid days to get it done. Maybe it's because I know I just have to turn around and take it all down again in three or four weeks. Maybe it's because I don't like to do anything halfway and I don't have the money, talent or time to do it the way I really want to do it. Maybe it's because Christmas stresses me out. Maybe it's just because I'm being bitchy.

It's all rather discouraging whatever it is.

But! It's done! I spent the last two days doing it - ALL day both days - and now it's done. And it does look pretty. I'm glad I did it. But I'm more glad it's done.

At least until the mother-%#*&$ first week of January anyway.

Psst! Her Pies Are Here!

2008-11-25T23:31:00.003-05:00

Last week, we had a Thanksgiving pie feast for Emma's class. I was in charge of it and happy to do it. The older the kids get the fewer opportunities there are to participate in the their school lives and I miss it. It's all part of the natural letting go process and it's healthy and normal, blah blah blah, but it also kinda sucks. So I organized with gusto and also happily made two pies to contribute. A mud cream pie and a pumpkin streusel pie.

The big day arrived and as I was standing at one of the two tables full of pies getting ready to serve the kids, Emma's math teacher sidles up to me and whispers in my ear, "Which ones are yours? We're going to steal them." I was so stunned but thought it was funny so I burst out laughing. How flattering! Of course, I thought he was kidding so when he just stared at me with a completely deadpan expression while I was laughing I was taken aback. I quickly realized that he was serious.

Well, when your daughter's math teacher asks for your pie, you give him the pie. I pointed him in the direction of the mud cream that was sitting on the other table and sure enough, he wanders over to it and while the other moms are busy serving the kids he snags it. I just stood there and shook my head laughing. What could I do?

About ten minutes later Emma's science teacher walks up to me and whispers, "Which ones did you make?" I looked at him with my eyes narrowed becoming very suspicious. He laughed and said, "Okay, I might as well tell you - I want to steal one to serve my family on Thanksgiving." What the...?! But again, what could I do? I told him that he better go get it immediately because the other one I made had already been taken. He scurried off and promptly took the pumpkin streusel and hid it in his classroom.

All reports later were that the pies were a big hit with those that consumed them, which is frankly a huge relief. All of that hoopla and then what if they sucked? So much pressure my baking reputation has created....

Emma better get an A in mather and science.

A Better Day

2008-11-24T00:20:00.004-05:00

Okay, so Saturday was kind of a bad day. Someone really pissed me off. But Sunday was better. And I hold out high hopes that today, Monday, will be even better still - and the week ahead too for that matter. I have much to be thankful for. A customer has a brand new condo on the beach in the Florida panhandle and they have given it to us for free (FREE!) for the long holiday weekend. 2008 will always be known to me as The Year of Florida Beach Condos and the luxury of it is not lost on me. The next couple of days will be quite hectic but by Wednesday morning I'll be headed south and towards the sunshine.

Yup. Much to be thankful for. (And I haven't even scratched the surface.)

No More

2008-11-22T13:47:00.004-05:00

No matter how much life - and the people in it - try to chip away at you, I've realized that they can't control what happens inside with your heart and mind. There's comfort in that for me. That I can decide what my inner resolve will be about myself and my life and what I eventually want for it. Not knowing how to get where I resolve to get someday is the hard part but it doesn't change my decisions about it. And that makes me feel strong. No one can hurt me more than I let them and I make the decision here and now not to let them and their hurtful behavior eat away at me any longer. It stops here.

Passing on the Nuts

2008-11-15T12:51:00.006-05:00

I went for a walk the other day at a local mountain park. It's beautiful here right now with the fall colors at a peak. I found a nut that was whole and intact (as opposed to all of the other partial nut pieces I saw along the trail) so I picked it up for Emma. A WHOLE nut! Boy, was she going to be excited!! So excited!!!

An hour later, I picked her up from school and, after listening to her tell me about her day, I gave her the nut. "Emma! I found a whole nut for you on the walking trail today!" She politely accepted it, but behind her smile I glimpsed a strange but familiar expression on her face. I recognized it immediately....

She thought I was crazy.

I was suddenly whooshed back in time to the many car rides with my mother when she would hand me some sort of treasure from her nature walks. A nut or a leaf or a pretty rock. I remember one time I went to my dorm mailbox in college and found a single, perfect pine cone sitting in there. (My mother worked at the college I attended - free tuition! - and she got the mailroom guy to put it in there.) I distinctly remember shaking my head and laughing about how crazy she was.

I don't know when I morphed from that girl into the woman I am now. One who picks up nuts that are whole and feels excited about them - and even more excited to give them to my daughter. Or that goes on for ten minutes about how the mountains look like they're on fire and, "Isn't it beautiful Emma?!" while she replies, "Um, sure." Or one that mourns when all of the leaves finally fall off my favorite tree because I know I won't get to see its beauty again for a whole year. And one that, when asked by a friend going to France what I'd like him to bring back for me, says, "A leaf. I want a French leaf." Not French wine or French chocolates, but a French leaf. I think he thought I was a little crazy too but he did bring me a leaf and I loved that leaf. (Note: He also brought back the wine and chocolates too and I thoroughly enjoyed them as well.)

When did I become my mother's daughter? Something I vowed never to become? I really don't know...but I'd like to think that I took the best of her and carry those threads of her quirkiness and goodness with me as I mother my daughter. And you know what? I still have that pine cone my mother gave me. I treasure it now because she's gone and it's nice to have a reminder of her funny ways of showing me that she was thinking about me during her day - and that she cared enough to give me the perfect pine cone she'd found.

So I'm going to continue giving Emma my weird nature trail finds. Maybe some day she'll find one of them in a box somewhere and she'll fondly remember how crazy I was. And that I loved her enough to give them to her.

Sur-Real World

2008-11-10T15:55:00.010-05:00

Emma had a sleepover Saturday night so I went to see The Duchess. (Which was really good but a bit depressing. I mean, I know of course, that women were treated horribly back then but it sucks to see it played out and to know it's a true story.) After the movie I went to Keegan's Pub - a local Irish bar - to have a drink.

Now, in order to tell you about this, I have to reveal something pretty humiliating about myself. I've already outted myself about my addiction to MTV's The Hills but I have failed to confess that I also watch The Real World sometimes. You know, "Seven strangers picked to live in a house and have their lives taped..." It's been around for 20 years or so and it's basically a romp of twenty-somethings who drink, fight, have sex and occasionally work.

Anyway, two years ago, in season nineteen the gang was in Sydney Australia and it was the usual mix of characters - a couple of slutty girls, the ex-frat boy, the recovering alcoholic, the somewhat sheltered often conservative country boy, the artistic girl who "just wants to work on her music", etc.

Most of the episodes disintegrated into a drunken brawl (or a drunken sexcapade) which is both fascinating and rather gross to watch. They also often talked about how hard their twenty-year-old lives are. Poor kids.

Back to Keegan's Pub! So I walk into the bar and I immediately notice some guy looking at me and smiling. He looked really familiar so I wondered if I knew him from somewhere. I'm such a lameass about remembering people so I figured it was a good possibility that we've met and I just couldn't place the where or how or when. I smiled back and found a seat at the bar. Then suddenly, it came to me! I KNEW who it was! It was none other than this guy....

It was Cohutta! COHUTTA!! That's right folks, good ol' boy Cohutta's ass filled that bar stool and he did it quite nicely too. He was the "somewhat-sheltered-often-conservative-country-boy" and one of my favorite characters that season. And no, I didn't talk to him. I'm not one to gush over pseudo-celebrities but it sure was one fun to watch him a few seats away. What he was doing in that bar in the middle of god-forsaken Georgia is beyond me. Going from months in Sydney, Australia back to fricking nowhere land is madness as far as I'm concerned but that's his decision I suppose. I guess you can take the boy out of the backwoods of Georgia but not the backwoods of Georgia out of the boy.

Too funny!

Sarah, Sarah, Sarah...

2008-11-07T12:33:00.002-05:00

I don't know about you but I've had people in my life that drive me crazy but I often can't seem to pinpoint what it is about them that makes me batty. Then one day they say something or do something that makes it all crystal clear to me - explains what it is in a nutshell. And all you have to do is tell someone else that story and they go, "Oooooohhhh...." and immediately understand what I'm trying to explain about the person and why they drive me nuts.

Well, that happened to me last night with Sarh Palin. The woman just cannot catch a break. I saw her on CBS Evening News. She was in a hotel lobby somewhere and was mobbed by reporters. One asked her about whether or not she was thinking about running in 2012. She waved her hand dismissively and replied: "Twenty-twelve? That sounds like years away."

'Nuff said.