Single Status

Celebrate

2007-09-18T15:51:00.000-04:00

Well, it only took the fertility specialists 2 shots but it worked--I'm expecting. I'm in the safe zone now so I feel good to talk about it. I'm 16 weeks.

I finally gained some more weight. At first I lost a few pounds and I think the doctor was concerned. I certainly wasn't. It's not like I was counting caleries and I had been eating a few blizzards and shivers with candy toppings. At my last visit, the doc said you need to gain more. He'll be surprised when he sees me in a few weeks as I gained 10 pounds--eeks. I know it's healthy and that it's ok, but I'm not thrilled with the large numbers on the scale. It's difficult to accept. I can't wait until 9 months are up and I have a beautiful baby in my arms. So far, it's not been too tough of a pregnancy. I've just had a few problems here and there.

The View

2007-09-18T15:44:00.000-04:00

I haven't been so happy with The View ever since Meredith Viera left the show. At least when she moderated all the other women seemed to voice their opinion. Their seemed to be a lot of respect and equality. Then when Rosie came on, it seemed to become the Rosie and Elisabeth Hasselbeck show. The other women were like background settings. I miss Joy's opinion and feedback. I've only caught it once with Whoopi but it seemed aside from Elisabeth, on the date I caught, she was the only other active participant. What's going on and will the show get better? I miss all the women's viewpoint--hence The View.

Exercise

2007-04-26T15:03:00.000-04:00

So the eight pounds or so that I was struggling to keep off since before the wedding have found out where I lived and crept back onto my body. I've been depressed about it and annoyed putting on my clothes and feeling the tightness around my thighs and waist.

I was thinking about exercise but just couldn't get my act together until the other week. I finally made it back to the gym. And it feels great. I'm using baby steps to get there. I got a work out sheet to follow the gym equipment and when I can I am doing aerobics on the machines for 20 plus minutes. It makes me happy. Yippee. The tough thing is patience. I keep hoping the pounds will come off quickly but I know it's going to take some time.

So the other month I contacted an old friend from college. It felt really great and we actually got together as she came into town. Then she called the next week and I didn't get back to calling her until like 2 weeks after--rude, I know. But now I haven't heard back. I've emailed her twice and she's reading them or her husband could be and no reply. It's so strange. Hmph. I always wonder what is going on in people's brains.

A trip

2007-04-21T12:20:00.000-04:00

I just took a mental trip to 1998 when I went on my first trip to Israel. It was a mission trip with the Jewish National Fund. They paid for most of my trip and I just had to supplement my airfare. The only catch was that I had to get on and off a bus to look at 50 water reservoirs and was to be hit for a donation later in the trip.

The trip was spectacular from the start. I met some new friends--not everlasting, developed a crush, landing a boyfriend with another guy at the end of the trip and left with amazing memories.

Today I was reading my local Jewish paper and noticed a celebration for Israeli Independence day going on later in the month. Instead of a pony ride, they are having camel rides. The camel picture transported me back to my Israel trip when our group went to spend the night in the dessert with some bedouins.

During the late afternoon, they offered camel rides to the group. I wanted to go but had some fear. Not fear of riding the camel, but fear of smelling like one afterwards. It was cold during the day and later as the son set and temperatures reached below zero we weren't exactly going to shower. They did have shower stalls in a separate area that was in a noninsulated structure with no hot water. And, did I mention it was freezing? But after the ride, there was a big dinner around a fire and everyone went directly into the tent to sleep with the entire group. I just couldn't spare the thought of smelling like horse crap while trying to sleep on a mat. Dirty horses and camels smell the same--sorry.

Gazing back at the picture of the camel in the Jewish paper made me think I need to conquer a new fear. Sort of like crossing out items on your list of things to do before you die. I think there is a camel ride in my future. Heck, I'll be 20 minutes away from home and shower after.

The Next Step

2007-04-10T10:56:00.000-04:00

So my husband and I hit a point in the marriage--months ago--that we are ready to start a family. Although we've only been married about a 1 1/2 years, we're older than perhaps the average couple. But, who knew it would be so hard to conceive? The way my mom talked growing up, conception should have happened on our honeymoon.

I hear about 18 year olds everyday, who don't want a child, gettting knocked up from having sex just once. It's pathetic and aggravating. Plus I know of a young couple who has no promising future and they keep popping out babies. Of course, they are irresponsible, ignore their crying babies,have done drugs and yet--they are blessed with children. I don't understand the logic?

On the opposite spectrum, we are not drinking, have never done drugs, are taking great care of ourselves, have saved enough to support a family and nothing. Close friends have said "not to worry" and "it'll happen." I'm glad some much older friends advised us to go to a specialist. For once, I ignored my friends and I couldn't be happier. Although it's sad I've left them in the dark about my situation.

It's been four months now of seeing a specialist to discover we do have a fertility problem. Lot's of testing involved. We're still not sure what is going on but my husband and I have to go see other specialists now. It's frustrating to say the least. To further aggravate the situation, my husband's awful HMO is costing us another precious month because he couldn't get a needed referrel. He now has to make 2 appointments just to go to one appointment. So...when the doctors do get a game plan it'll be several months later. I wouldn't care if I were in my 20s.

It really is crazy. At least in my upbringing, my sisters and I spent our early adult lives worrying that we might or could have a chance of getting pregnant so we were careful and did every measure to make sure it wouldn't happen at an early age--including abstinance. And now, it can't even happen. I sort of wish, I had not been so careful in my early twenties. Perhaps I would have one child by now. Then I wouldn't be as upset. Of course, that probably would have changed my future outcome and I might not have met my wonderful hubby. Hmph.I'm just venting.

Lost time

2007-04-10T10:13:00.000-04:00

I disappeared for awhile because I wasn't able to access my account without going to Google. Problem was I can't find a name that suits me, isn't cheesy, and that's available. Any sugestions?

Men

2006-11-16T14:23:00.000-05:00

Do men only hear what they want? Sort of like children with selective listening--hearing dessert but not the word bedtime? It can be annoying.

A few weeks ago my husband asked me if I wanted to join him for a hoiday party. I said that I would like to. I thought it would be fun. I enjoy parties. He said, if not, he had asked a friend in his line of work who would go. He thought I might not want to go because I might be bored while he networked. I didn't care. I can hold my own.

Then on the way to dinner last night my husband said, "Oh, tomorrow I'll be home late." Why, I asked. "Because I'm going to that holiday party I told you about with my friend." Well, did you forget I was coming with you?

Yes, he had no clue. It was like we never had a conversation. Or, if we did, he went into the conversation thinking of the outcome he wanted. Never mind what we actually discussed.

He back pedaled and said, "Oh,I didn't realize you wanted to go. I'm sure my friend will be relieved he doesn't have to go." But then I was done. I had no more interest in going. Plus, I've been a little blue with my kitty being gravely ill and all. I haven't exactly been in the mood to make small talk with new people who probably felt the same. You don't exactly walk into an attorney firm's holiday party expecting to meet a new, best friend.

My husband kept insisting I should come. I had no more desire. I think I'm more annoyed that he didn't listen to me. I take it very personally when I have a specific conversation with someone and they have no clue it ever took place.
Won't my hubby feel like a 3 year old when I ask him to repeat back to me what I say in our next conversation!

Men.

Kitty Cat Blues

2006-11-13T15:09:00.000-05:00

Kitty Cat Blues

I love animals, and I especially love my baby cat I’ve raised now for the past 16 years. And, without bragging, I’d have to say he’s the sweetest and best cat I’ve ever known. He cuddles, coos, and acts like a baby and has been fairly low maintenance. Plus, he’s as loyal as a dog. He listens and follows me around the house. He jumps up when I snap my fingers to him. And, he comes when I whistle and call him.

My family got him as a kitten when my other cat died of liver cancer. And, he’s just been a joy. Recently, I’ve gotten frustrated with him because he’s thrown up on the comforter a few times and on the carpet. Don’t get me wrong, he’s always thrown up every few months, but I had to wash the comforter 3 days in a row from him and it just got to be a little much. Just when I would clean it up, change the sheets and remake the bed, he would do it again. I never understood why he couldn’t puke on the tile floor. That’s easy to clean. Then after I cleaned it up, he’d do it again. You get frustrated and tired of cleaning it! Plus, how do you disinfect carpet? Yuck. So I thought to myself, I love him, but one day when it’s his time, it’ll be nice when I don’t have to deal with it: cleaning all the puke, the litter box and being extra careful removing any plastic from the house –as he eats it. In addition, I’ve developed a dog and cat allergy. I can deal with that. I’ve been taking allergy shots for the past two years.

Now I’m feeling guilty like I gave him a death sentence. He hasn’t been feeling well the past few weeks. I took him to a new vet, and she told me he has water surrounding his lungs and he’s in distress. At home, however, he’s been his normal self minus not eating his hard food.So I gave him soft food. I thought I was taking him in just to leave with a laxative–not a death sentence. The vet actually wants to put him down. And, I tell ya–I’m a wreck. That’s my baby. I lost his best friend, another good cat, to a mouth tumor two years ago and I cried every day for a week when I came home after putting him down. He used to greet me when I opened the door to the house.

I called another vet for a second opinion. It just sucks. There’s never a good time for any death–whether person or animal. It always is hard. I hope he’ll be ok. I’ll keep everyone informed.

Something Weird

2006-10-12T14:58:00.000-04:00

I had a mini-twilight zone experience yesterday when I went on a work errand. I had to deliver some papers at this other office complex.

When I walked up to the front of the building about 10 men were outside smoking and watching me as I went inside. While I waited at the elevator, an older gentleman came inside and waited alongside with me. When the elevator opened, I walked inside and waited for the gentleman but he didn't come it. He yelled to me, "I'll just grab the next one!" Ok, did I step in dog poop or something?

Then I went to the floor and couldn't find the suite I needed. The suite label was in a tiny nook with no door or entrance. When I went to the next suite a woman there told me to cut through their office because the new office is waiting for a door to be cut out of the drywall and put in. Alrighty then.

After I dropped off my package, I went back to the elevators and waited for it to come up to the top floor. When the doors opened two gentlemen were inside and I waited a second so they could walk off. They didn't move and said to me, "are you coming on?" Ok, I thought, but I assumed they were leaving. As soon as I stepped inside, they left and one of them said, "Now, we can leave." Could it get any weirder?

AS I drove out of the complex I needed to make a left turn. A car was coming from the right and was turning into the complex I was leaving. The other car clearly had the right of way and wouldn't turn in until I left! Bizarro. Was everyone just being overly polite to me or did I just leave the twilight zone?

Family Holiday Dinner

2006-09-19T14:46:00.000-04:00

I'm planning my first Jewish holiday dinner at my house this Rosh Hashana. This is something I've thought about doing for a long time but never made time to do it. I figured being married was a good excuse to go for the gusto.

My Aunt and Grandma, who are organizing queens, have helped me plan the meal and have given me suggestions. I was going to do everything myself, but they suggested divying some of the menu selections to my sisters and mom. I think they are right so I've now asked for them to bring a dish.

I made my first Jewish, chicken soup this morning, and I'm so excited about it. The hardest part was finding a Kosher chicken by the house, which I have to say is utterly ridiculous. When I asked the butcher at one of the large markets to order a Kosher brisket, he answered, "we have some flat cuts of brisket." Yes, but I need a kosher one. "Hmmm, he said. I'll have to find out about that one." Of course, I never heard from him again.

I did find a bag of Kosher chicken cut up in quarters so used that. My kind neighbor said she'd put the soup in the fridge once it cooled down because I had to go to work. I can't wait to find out how it was after she snuck a taste!

My hubby cooked a brisket last night and then I'll cook some more on Friday. I'll be making matza balls from a mix too--also for my first time. I hope it all comes out great.

Politics and Healthcare

2006-08-18T17:00:00.000-04:00

I have a rant about politics and healthcare. With the election nearing, I'm so tired of hearing candidates and current office holders rambling about issues such as abortion and gay marriages.

Why doesn't anyone address real issues like the rising costs of health insurance, medical care and other insurance? Who cares what goes on behind closed doors between two people romantically? Do I see any politicians fighting for abused women and children getting beat up behind those shut doors? No, they are more concerned with sexual orientation and what their religion has to say about it. What's next? Telling married couples how they can have sex and in what position is religiously acceptable?

And, I'm sorry, but abortion doesn't affect everyone. It's a personal decision. I care more about healthcare that does affect everyone. Who is changing the rising costs of medical care? Who is fixing insurance companies who are charging super high rates for coverage, when they keep lowering what they cover and slimming down the medicines they cover? Most people can't even afford it and go without it--which creates more issues.

Who is regulating the companies and allowing them to stop covering needed prescription medicines, as they tell those they cover to buy OTCs. Well, if OTCs worked, then we wouldn't have a need for prescriptions would we?

It's sad that everyday working people and their children can't afford to go to a doctor when they are sick. Socialization isn't exactly the answer either, unless the problems of it are fixed.

And the choices of insurance companies for small businesses is slim to none. I'd like to see a politician with a backbone take care of these issues. It's not a new problem, but it's one that in the last 15 years has gotten worse. It can't keep getting ignored.

2006-07-29T22:34:00.000-04:00

This was a poetry exercise I attempted. It kind of fizzled at the end. I'm not sure if I did the assignment right but if anything, it got me writing. I shared some poetry with a friend once and he felt weird reading it, and thought it was a little too personal, like a glimpse into my diary. But, I told him, that's what poetry is--feelings,pain & life. And, p.s., I promise, I'm not an angry or bitter person.

Colors

I was lying next to dad on a velor, biege blanket
Listening to the slowing rhythm of his breathing.
His thin, sky blue, nightshirt rising slowly up and
deflating again, then pause, like a hot air balloon perhaps descending.

Tears streamed down my pale face, turning gray with fear of what's next.
The crystal ball showing Mom clearing away her gray clouds to make room, in the future, for the handyman lying out our porcelain tile, gray under my feet.

The black night now turning blacker in my new isolation.
The irony of loosing not one, but two parents that evening.

I shuffled my pink, fuzzy slippers on the hard tile from my parents'
room down to the front hall and peered through the horizontal blind, searching for the sound.

I make it back to my room and try to sleep on the hard bed, much like life. Afterall, not everything can be as warm and comfortable as a feather filled bed. Dream on.

Pantylines

2006-07-09T22:47:00.000-04:00

I used to be a granny panty type of gal. Well, that is, from the time I could wear big-girl panties until my college years. Heck, I didn't care, and besides, I'm all about comfort. I don't like little, tiny uncomfortable undergarments. Did I mention my extreme modesty?

In college I got sassier and switched from the cotton to the satin and silk variety. I even owned some high cut french styles that were popular. Eventually, I settled into all the different bikini styles. They aren't granny panties, but they aren't crotch riding either. It's funny how most guys consider hipster, bikini undees grandma-ish. No worries. I'm happy.

But then, came the hot,green velor, body fitting sweat outfit. I had reached a point of muscular tone definition and flatter stomach than I had in a long time in my life, and I bought it. I'm used to wearing baggier styles, but I was trying to get outside the box. The bottoms hugged the tush just so, and I wondered if my pantylines would show. Way in the past, I never thought about pantylines showing until a friend at work started pointing it out to me. Man, I must have done my fair share of embarrassing pantyline no-nos and was so unaware. Sort of like putting on black underware and slipping on thin, tight white pants.

I put on my new outfit, and sure enough, when I turned around, my butt was outlined in all its glory and looked neatly wrapped in my underware. You could trace the panty outline--including the crotch lining. Oy. I tried on another pair of underware and still no good. I tossed it aside and decided to ask the girls at the salon later that day to get their suggestion as I got my nails done. I should have guessed their solution. "Commado" they unnamamously nodded. Wha, ha, what?? I can't wear no panties. I'm a double protection type of gal. Thankfully, soon after, I discovered some boyshort undees. They were perfect and you couldn't see the outline. By the way, I have ventured into t-backs but if you wear the wrong pants and don't look carefully, you can see the outline of the t-backs too, and I don't want people knowing what undees I'm wearing. Afterall, they aren't outerware!

Friends with Exes

2006-05-08T15:02:00.000-04:00

Lately, I’m finding myself thinking of a few exes. Not in a sexual, yearning type of way, but just out of natural curiosity of how their well being is. I wonder if that is natural and if other women or men, who are married, ever think about their exes?

I have been recently wondering about one in particular. Would it be wrong for me to get in touch with him and reopen the lines of communication? Let’s name the one I’m referring to as C, to protect his identity.

The reason I stopped the lines of communication with C was out of necessity. It was becoming unhealthy for my current relationship. Although, he is the one who ultimately cut ties because he got angry at me for something silly. I didn’t bother to resolve it and let it stand.

When the incident happened, I didn’t apologize because I knew I had to distance myself from him. After being in a long distance relationship for 7 ½ years, I met someone else and in 11 months fell in love and got engaged. I think my new relationship wasn’t easy for him. I felt bad, but staying in touch was upsetting my fiancé. Staying friends is not always easy for all parties.

Plus, I was staying in touch because at the time I felt bad for him. Pity is never a reason to stay friends with someone. He had a few life crises to deal with and my heart went out to him, and I felt I couldn’t just end a friendship after all those years, at that point in his life.

My family didn’t understand my friendship. I guess it’s one of life’s big questions. Do you stay friends with your exes? For some people it can work, but it can also be awkward.

Take Me Sailing

2006-05-02T12:09:00.000-04:00

In college, I joined the sailing club to meet boys, but I never did learn to sail. All I took away from it was a t-shirt.

My husband, D, has a Hobie cat 16 idly sitting on the side of our house waiting for the perfect day to take out. This past Saturday was the day. D hasn’t used it since he met me, which would be about 2 years now. When I went with him to pull it out of the backyard, it didn’t look good. The trampoline looked dry rotted, but he said it was fine and would hold up. There were a few large holes in it already. He mentioned that perhaps he would sell it after the day, but really wanted to take it out.

The wind blew wildly--it was the perfect day at the park to fly kites and sail. I hesitated in joining him as I didn’t want to flip in the lake. He promised me that wouldn’t happen and really wanted me to accompany him. Our neighbor, a friend of my husbands, offered to come when I said I wasn’t interested in going at first. I decided to finally suck it up and just try it out.

It took awhile to get it out and down to the lake and about 15 minutes to assemble it and put up the sails. As we were getting it together a man and his wife pulled off the side of the rode and asked us some questions about the boat and mentioned they would like to buy one if we were interested in selling. We told him that actually, we were interested in selling it. We exchanged phone numbers and went on our way.

The three of us, got on the hobie cat and picked up some wind speeding down the lake. We were sailing about 30 miles per hour. The trampoline started breaking in several places and we moved around so our butts wouldn’t fall through. It was pretty fun. A few minutes into the ride it got hairy and we started to tip. My husband and I fell off, but his friend managed to hang on to the front and re-balance it so we could get back on. I purposely wore a life vest as I figured. I heard stories about my husband’s sail boating days from his friends and I came prepared. I tried lifting myself back onto the catamaran, but couldn’t. Darn weak upper arms. My husband grabbed me by my shorts and hoisted me up wedging my bathing suit simultaneously up the whole crack of my body. I was hoping nearby boaters didn’t get a crotch shot. I performed minor surgery to get my bathing suit out of my crack!

We caught some more wind and sailed some more, and then, as we were turning to head back, it flipped again--this time spilling all of us into the lake. We couldn’t right side it. We struggled for a while trying to flip it back, but it wouldn’t budge. Water had filled up in one of the hulls. We had a leak.

Two nice boaters came by and trolled around us. Being a typical man, my husband didn’t think we needed help, but I waved one of the boaters to come closer. He waited to see if we made progress and then jumped in the lake to help. It took about 15 minutes to flip it back and the few boaters around us clapped. I asked my husband if he would mind me getting a ride back in a real boat. I met him safely back on shore. Thank goodness fellow boaters are so nice. Usually, when we are on the lake, we are the ones rescuing everyone.

So...if anyone is in the market for some hobie cat parts, we're definitely interested in selling.

Wedding Dress

2006-04-27T18:20:00.000-04:00

I have a dilemma–not huge–and I’m not sure what to do. What do I do with my beautiful wedding dress? I had the big day, strutted my stuff and now I’m stuck with a gorgeous wedding dress that I paid way too much for. I tried to be cheaper, but even as a thin girl, I had a lot of trouble finding a dress that fit great with sleeves that I liked. If I had large fake breasts I may have had an easier time. I’m sure the early 90s would have offered me more “sleeve” options, but hey I was never in a serious relationship then.

Why don’t wedding dresses have good resale?

Now, it’s been 5 months and it’s still in my closet. I haven’t even dry cleaned it yet. Gross, huh? My girlfriends tell me if I want to sell it, I’ll only get $100 and that would stink. I’d rather keep it and pay $150 to have it preserved if that’s the case. I don’t have the heart to just give it away because I paid way too much for it. If the dress was under $500 I could part with it easier.

I don’t want to put it in consignment either because I wouldn’t want it to get ruined by people trying it on. You should see how girls treat clothes in retail stores. They can be so cruel.

A part of me wants to hold on to it even though the chances of having a daughter or niece who’d want to wear it or fit into it are slim. Especially because it’ll go out of style. Giving it away to charity is a great idea, but it’s still hard to do. Unrealistically, I’d like to sell it for half the price and then I think I could feel good. But at this rate, in the back of my closest, it’s going nowhere but out of fashion, fast.

Everything Worth Reading

2006-04-20T15:43:00.000-04:00

So...a friend just leant me a really good, chick book, Everyone Worth Knowing, by Lauren Weisberger. She’s the author of the Devil Wears Prada. I have to say it’s wonderful. It was so addicting-- I could have lost my job over it. I brought it to work and kept stealing glances of it when I was incredibly busy. I was ashamed at my behavior. I think I’m an addict of some sort.

Anywho, as much as I loved the book, I had wished it wasn’t so predictable and also the lack of attention to some details when other details were brilliantly illustrated was disappointing too. I guess no one is perfect. All in all it’s a recommended read.

The weird thing is, I’m so glad the book is over because I couldn’t stop thinking of the characters before that. I seem to have that problem with lots of good books. The characters become alive in my head like real people and I wonder what they are doing. I guess that makes a good writer and shows the inspiring writer or schizophrenia in me!

But it did inspire me to write some more on my own and gave me some motivation! I know that sounds weird though.

Any other good books to recommend? I found The Da Vinci code even more incredible.

Flying to Vegas

2006-04-05T22:06:00.000-04:00

I just got from Vegas Monday night. I fly Southwest and I tell ya, the airline has a good thing going for them with cheap deals (which I appreciate), but I hate the no assigned seats and the A,B,and C line ups.

For those who don't know about the airline, seats are basically first come first serve. The faster you print out your boarding pass the more chance you have of getting an A seating. If you are getting a last minute ticket you are most likely to get a C and have to wait until everyone else boards the plan to get on and find a seat.

People who fly the airline get nuts about getting a good seat. It made me anxious, and I even got a little nutty on the way home, lining up with the other fools a half hour before boarding. And then, I still didn't even get a good seat.

On the positive, I met two really cool people. One woman worked for Head Start in El Paso and the other lived in San Antonio and was visiting her boyfriend in San Diego.
My flight from Orlando was brutal. I flew for like 9 hours with 3 total stops as layovers. I was ready to get off in Albuquerque and say forget it. I won't go to Vegas. I was done flying. But I held on. I made it there at midnight EST, and I started at 3:00 EST.

It was really cool though. This time I stayed off the strip at the LV Hilton which was mediocre. They had good gambling but we were so far from everything that transportation got expensive getting to the main strip. They have the monorail now, but it's about $5 each way and taxi's were averaging 15.00 from our hotel. I think traffic might have been worse because of the March Madness and all. But the LV Hilton did have good games. I won a few times on video poker (so addicting) and some slots.

If any of you go, you have to go to Ellis Island, off of Koval ST behind Bally's and go to the restaurant and order the steak dinner off the menu. It won't disappoint and the portions are huge at about $5--it's a great bargain. Plus they have cheap eats for breakfast.

For Now

2006-02-24T19:47:00.000-05:00

For now, I'll just keep writing under my old title or...trying to write if I don't get any lazier. I've been hit with a bad case of procrastination these days. I have not felt like doing anything, and I have a lot to do with organizing after moving into a house with my husband. Plus, I haven't had any energy to work on my columns. I've let them slip by for now. I'll have one due soon, so I'll need to get going.

I need to be putting energy into something like my new house. You should see how messy the pantry is. We just threw in boxes, cans and other food. What a mess. And, our bedroom and closets need major organizing. Of course, I haven't touched anything except peeling off wallpaper I'm not too found of. It's become a huge and consuming project. But it's got to get finished if I'm going to paint. I have other things to do but I get so OCD about peeling off the wallpaper. I just can't stop. My manicurist would scream if she saw my nails. I've been using them to peel and scrap. Oy.

Something Profound

2006-02-07T22:28:00.000-05:00

Giving people advice is tough because no one really wants to hear the truth. They just want affirmation that what they are doing is fine.

Relinquish My Title

2006-01-27T09:32:00.000-05:00

I have some news to share. Most of my friends know but for those who don't, I'm no longer single anymore. So now a dilemna. Can I keep my blog title or do I have to change it and shut this one down?

Any opinions on the matter?

Driving Home

2006-01-25T15:08:00.000-05:00

I've discovered a secret of making every green traffic light. Spill a cup of coffee in your car. It doesn't necessarily have to be hot. It can be a stale cup. I accidentaly flipped my travel mug over with the remnants of my morning coffee still inside.

I wasn't in any type of rush. I figured I'd grab some fast food napkins in my glove compartment and clean up the little spill. I did my best as I made every light all the way to the highway.

Why didn't I pull over you might ask? I thought I had the clean up under control, that is, until I got home. Most of the coffee spilled on the passenger side of the car. When I opened the door I saw it had gotten all over the carpet. What a mess!

So now I've let you in on a little secret.

Caught up in the past

2005-08-19T19:28:00.000-04:00

I was reading an old magazine the other day, from November of 1996. My entire life has changed considerably since. Then, I was 24 years old working in marketing sales and my dad was still alive and just having been diagnosed with cancer. I was dating this one guy, but ended it when he wanted to spend more time with me. However, I thought he was being selfish because I wanted to spend time more with my father.

I wanted to do as much father-daughter bonding activities as I could. It typically was spent putting together a 2500 jigsaw puzzle of hot air balloons. We didn’t talk much. We just spent quality time together putting together this puzzle like missing pieces of our unknown future.

When dad got tired and went to rest I would continue on enjoying the silence of my contemplative thoughts. Part of the time I spent undoing the pieces that dad incorrectly jammed together. I didn’t have the heart to tell him they didn’t match. He noticed right away of course, and he would get upset with me telling me I ruined his pieces. I played stupid and said that, “No, I had already pieced the cluster he worked into the inerts of the puzzle.” Then he would retreat softly with an, “ok.” And, after awhile, he didn’t comment on the whereabouts of the pieces that he put together.

It was nice when it was completed--including the chewed up pieces complements of our dog’s individual contributions.

After that dad retreated to his bed, where he remained through the rest of his illness to watch television where he was most comfortable.

The evil pimple

2005-08-18T16:32:00.000-04:00

Just when I thought I was over puberty–it revisited me like a poorly digested meal. I was enjoying porcelain quality skin into my late 20s when my dermatologist diagnosed me with rosacea. Lucky me. Not only do I get pimples for the heck of it, but I get ones that visit in the same spot for several weeks at a time. And don’t even think about squeezing them—they aren’t squeezable. They just hurt. Plus, I get red and splotchy cheeks when I exercise, get too warm or when I drink wine.

And, why is it, before any special event a pimple has to form in the most conspicuous spot on the tip of the nose, middle of the forehead or between your eyes. I think I always got a pimple right before a big date.

I am having a party this weekend and word must of gone out because I awoke the other morning with a red one to the left of my mouth. Thank you pimple fairy g-dmother. I feel blessed. This pimple will be in all the photos taken this weekend to be remembered for eternity.

I’ve been careful not to touch it and I’ve been putting on topical medicine twice a day. And, to no avail, I can’t shake the little bugger. Last night I thought for sure it was going away, but today it feels larger and it hurts. Maybe I’ll have better luck tonight.

Moving Target

2005-08-02T16:07:00.000-04:00

I can’t believe it happened again. I got rear ended driving to an appointment during lunch time. It frustrated me to no end. The biggest problem, aside from being injured and having to deal with an additional stress in everyday life, is the frequency of the occurrences.

On my way to the office this morning I thought about the amount of people who have hit my car and I wondered if I could get some infamy out of my misery-- like earn a spot in the Guinness book?

My friends are joking, telling me to remove the bull’s-eye from my vehicle–no, kidding, eh? There must be one that I can’t see.

My sisters said I should sell my car and buy a Hummer. I’d love too, and I’m sure I’d feel indestructible in it, but the gas costs would kill me.

The weirdest aspect of the accident is I was just telling a friend about a good luck charm that I had in my car– a car mezuzah with a prayer inside. I kept it in my consul and just showed someone the other day telling them it protects me and I’ll never get in an accident again. Well, after the accident, I thought–hey, my mezuzah didn’t offer me any protection. And, when I went to find it, to check for any defects, it was no where to be found. It had vanished! It’s the most bizarre thing. No one has been in my car. I haven’t had my car’s inside cleaned and who would break into it just to steal that? It only has value to me and most people would not even know what it is.

It’s a mystery I’m hoping to uncover.

Asian Cuisine

2005-07-29T15:04:00.000-04:00

My sister and I had lunch the other day at our favorite Japanese restaurant. Over the past 7 years, sushi has become so popular that there are as many restaurants on each corner block in town as there are churches. It's G-d vs Sushi here.

We chose this restaurant because we both love some of their unique roll combos they make. When we first ate sushi, it was so addicting we ate at this restaurant at least three times a week or more. The staff got to know us, but it didn't have any other benefit other than us knowing the waitresses by first name and vice verse.

For the past three weeks, the service at this restaurant has declined. On my last visit, I waited twenty minutes to get my bill and to pay for it. There's nothing worse when you are wanting to leave a place and can't.

Anyway, we went to the restaurant right before the busy lunch crowd. We placed our food order, were served our drinks in a timely fashion and then sat and waited over an hour for our meals.

Our waitress never came back to check up on us. We had to snag another to get our food, and of course, by that time it was stone cold. I wasn't about to waste another hour of my life sending it back when I had to get back to the office.

My sister complained but it did nothing. I didn't even bother saying a word because I knew it was in vain. What was the point? Most Asian restaurants don't give you a free drink, appetizer or dessert. Complaints go on deaf ears. You just get "Sew Solly."

There are plenty of other sushi restaurants in the area that I like which are better, cleaner and nicer. Therefore, I've decided to boycott my once "favorite" restaurant.

Vacation

2005-07-08T11:22:00.000-04:00

Sometimes you just need to get away from your life. I'm not sure if it's work that gets routine or daily life, but it's replenishing for your spirit to take off and go some place new.

That's what I did this past Fourth of July weekend. Some friends invited David and me to their "cottage" in Winnipeg, Canada. It's such a beautiful place and a different experience that you find in Florida. In Florida, some lucky people have their beach condos where they go every weekend minus a few weeks in the winter. In Winnipeg, some people have their cottages on the lake where they go for a short time during the summer on the weekends because their winters are so brutal. During the winter their lake actually freezes over. Most of the housewives get to stay the entire summer with their kids while their husbands commute in on the weekends. If the wife works then the whole family commutes each weekend.

The neatest thing about most of the islands on the lake is you have to take a boat to get to the cottage. The one I visit isn't accessible by land. There are few that are. There's nothing more strange then loading luggage onto a boat to get to your destination or driving in to the local grocery store and tying the boat up on the dock before going inside. Definitely a different world.

Just this past Friday we were on our way to Canada. We were going to be there for Canada day-- so I had to prepare myself for a night of drinking. The 7 hour flight and 2 1/2 hour drive into Kenora to get to Lake of the Woods wasn't too bad. We arrived around noon.

David and I planned to relax, fish and pan for gold with our friends' children. A nearby island used to be a gold mining place. For such a prissy type of girl, I never realized how relaxing it is to fish. I really enjoy the peacefulness of it. And, there is nothing more exciting then catching your own fish and being able to cook it up for lunch. I'm still working on baiting my line and touching a fish to remove the hook before throwing it back. David brought me gloves this year, but we kept forgetting to put them on the boat. I felt bad to make David bait my jig so often. I'm sure that got annoying.

Our friends' cabin is in a small cove where usually there's good fishing. The only problem is the logs sitting at the bottom of the lake. It used to be an old logging community so there are a ton underneath, but the fishing hooks get snagged on them constantly. I got frustrated after my seventh snag. It's not bad if you can get unstuck, but poor David had to keep rescuing my line. And, each time I lost my minnow and sometimes a jig. How annoying.

Going to Winnipeg is one of the most relaxing destinations. I find that I'm too far away to worry about home. There's nothing I can do if there is a problem so it's best to just enjoy where I am.

With all the hustle and bustle of every day life and responsibility staying in the moment can be difficult, but not in Winnipeg. Your only responsibility is sitting out on the deck overlooking the lake as the fresh air blowing through your hair.

Reconnecting with the Past

2005-06-01T15:07:00.000-04:00

Saying Hello to your first love

Nineteen years old seems decades ago. Looking through snapshots sparks my memory and the figures move on the coated paper as I thumb through them. The year is almost forgotten without my pictures, but ingrained in my brain at the same time. I could never completely forget the summer when I met my first love, Will.

It’s funny the details we remember and the memories we forget. l had gone to a dance club downtown with my sister and best friend. I wore funky, striped rayon pants with a black tank top. He watched me dance for awhile before joining me on the dance floor. At the end of the night, he asked me for my number. I gave it to him even though I wasn’t really interested. I was flattered more then anything.

A few days went by before he called. He asked me out for a double date, and I invited a high school friend of mine. We met the two guys at the movies. My friend and I weren’t impressed by our dates, and we laughed about the scenario the whole ride home. I didn’t even have an opinion about Will.

But, Will called me the next day and for some reason I kept talking to him. Eventually we developed a great friendship, and he seemed smitten. He was in the Navy and during sub school he would write me love letters, pre-email, and mail them along with silly things like our names in made from bent paperclips wired together in a heart.

He kept telling me he loved me early in the relationship, and I told him he was infatuated. He couldn’t possibly love me in such a short time. I do remember the moment I fell in love with him though. We were sitting in a movie. Ironic how I can’t remember which movie, but a feeling came over me and hit me in the head like the weight of the world. I turned to him in the darkness and whispered, “I love you.”

From that moment on I was high on life. We enjoyed each others company as often as we could until he had to leave for his tour of duty. He was to be stationed in Hawaii on a sub for months at a time. He informally mentioned to me that we should get married. He was impetuous like that. I adored the way he wore his emotions on his sleeve in contrast to the steel armor I dressed in.

I told him I was entering into my sophomore year of college, and I couldn’t leave my university to transfer to a strange place. Later I realized I made the right choice but it didn’t seem like it then. He said we’d keep in touch through letters and that he’d fly me out to see him. The letters came in drabs. I wrote back with perseverance. I even called and left him a message or two that went unreturned. An invite never presented itself and soon the letters all but stopped. I was devastated. I cried each night for several months. I was depressed. I didn’t seem to care anymore about college. I wanted my love back.

I’m not sure what brought me out of my stupor. It might have been my good friends at school. Either way, I eventually snapped out of it and tucked my mementoes of my first love away in a small suitcase. I had cassette tapes of his favorite and our favorite songs, a polo gingham black and white shirt with his cologne sprayed on, one dog tag and his gold baby ring. But I thought of him often.

Occasionally, a waft of Will’s favorite cologne Eternity reminded me of him. One time, a whiff of that stopped me dead in my tracks at the mall. I literally froze for a few seconds and had goose bumps. I always wondered what happened to him and why? Was he still living? Did he get in with a bad crowd? Was he married? It’s hard moving on with no closure to a serious relationship, but I managed fine.

A year ago, I was cleaning out a dresser drawer and stumbled across a few love letters, a dog tag and a baby ring. I had parted with the other things and only kept the latter. I decided I no longer needed these items and that they should return to the rightful owner or his family. And I went on a mission to find my first love.

Your first love is always the hardest to forget. I’m not sure why it is so and not true for your second or third love. Maybe it’s because of the physical closeness that’s shared.

I sent a basic letter out to an address that I found on the Internet and I found him. Plus I sent him his ring and dog tag. He forgot he gave them to me. Will and I have just begun asking each other many questions. It’s neat. I find it very cathartic. I’m glad to find him alive. He’s married and has two children. He is a school teacher. He even sent me a photo and he looks the same except for the receding hairline. I’m happy for him.

I thought when I found him I’d just send him back his things and it would be final. I’m glad to know that he’s interested in staying in touch and reconnecting an old friendship. I have no disillusions about our reunion nor do I expect a thing. I know in my heart, he’ll always be my first love . . . but definitely not my last.

Attack of the home parties

2005-05-02T15:27:00.000-04:00

If you aren’t sure what home parties are perhaps Mary Kay or Tupperware rings a bell? These parties are run by consultants, usually stay at home mothers, who work for a company selling their products. At the parties the consultants need to recruit others to work under their supervising so they can build their own line therefore increasing the amount of money they earn.

Some people compare these jobs to pyramid schemes because in a sense one person makes money off of another person down the recruitment line and so forth, but it’s not. They are 100% legal.

I’ve noticed the parties have gotten out of hand. Each day I learn about a new one that’s come on board. There are basket parties, jewelry parties, purse parties, candle parties, bath and body parties, make up parties, perfume parties, scrap booking parties, cooking parties, other food parties, bead parties and more.

There isn’t a party yet I believe that hasn’t been thought of, and as I write I’m sure another is being dreamt up. I suggested to my mother someone should start a knit your own socks party.

I recently went to a Bead Retreat party. It’s where you make a piece of jewelry. Could you believe I had to pay $10 as a so called “sitting fee” –just to be there. I didn’t realized it was such a privilege. Plus, once you are involved, you get railroaded into buying something you have to assemble. After listening to the consultant speak and explain her products, each person had to choose a bracelet to piece together.

I didn’t particularly like any of the bracelet choices, but I had to pick something. I settled on one of the most difficult kits. I sat next to my friend’s mother-in-law and it got so hard to see the small beads that she lent me her reading glasses. In my defense, they were tiny.

Halfway through the project, I gave up and let her mother finish my mini-project. I’m generally a crafty person, and I used to make my own jewelry at home. But this didn’t thrill me.

I’ll admit, these home party concepts are brilliant. In fact, I talked my sister into being a consultant for The Body Shop. Companies are raking in millions of dollars while offering people part-time work at their own discretion. For profit making, these jobs assert, the more time you put in--the more you will make out. And, why not work doing a craft that you love?

Happiness and Weight Gain

2005-03-08T16:08:00.000-05:00

Happiness, I’m told, not depression has contributed to my recent “relationship weight gain.” My quads and my lower belly are trying to outgrow my petite 5'4" frame. Who knew my thighs could be so happy?

Fellow friends and acquaintances say happiness and weight gain go together like a french manicure and a Louis Vuitton hand bag, but I disagree. It doesn’t have to be like that.

I first noticed something was wrong at the beginning of winter when I put on my first pair of heavy slacks. Attempting to cinch the waist, I noticed an inch gap between the button and the fastening hole. Hmph, I threw down the pants in a pile and slated it for Good Will. I grabbed another pair and the same thing happened. Well, I told my shattered ego, those pants were outdated anyway. Then, when I had trouble zipping a skirt, that’s always been a little big, I realized, Houston, we have a problem.

What happened? Who broke into my home and shrank all my clothes? This must be the worst case of vandalism I ever heard of. I had to stop and think. It must be the woman who comes to clean once a month. I’ll have to talk with her about laundering my clothes. My second thought was, if my tops were rising above my naval, perhaps my prayers have finally been answered and my boobs were growing! My boyfriend confirmed otherwise.

I wondered what happened, but then like a projectile thrown out of a window at my head, I realized how I contributed to extra pounds in the past ten months. My boyfriend’s enjoyment of eating hotdogs on the weekend (100 percent beef and kosher) and an oversized cup of sugared soda to wash it down became my weekend tradition too. And suddenly, my three times a week workout didn’t fit into my busy time schedule anymore.

Is happiness and my own security to blame for my gain? There are drugs for depression. How do I convince my doctor I might need a pill to curve my happiness. I have started to portion control a little, and I have bought the South Beach diet book. I’m still on chapter one though. Time will only tell if I can add will power to my stability.

Always a Bridesmaid

2005-01-27T16:08:00.000-05:00

Always a Bridesmaid and never a Bride . . .

I can still hear my dad muttering this cliche when I was in my early twenties. Lord, did he think I was so hopeless I’d never get married past 23? The thought often haunted me.

I guess I couldn’t blame him. He commented after I was asked a fourth time to be a bridesmaid in another friend’s wedding. He probably wondered why everyone else was getting married except me. I assured my father he shouldn’t worry. Maybe he was more concerned with the money I had to keep borrowing from him to pay for all the expenses of a bridesmaid’s obligation. My post college degree job paid me less than $20,000 a year which kept me still living at home.

I’ll assume he was more concerned with the money. There is the dress to buy which can run anywhere from $160 and up. Then there are other expenses of shoes, special undergarments to purchase, dress alterations, hair and makeup, a manicure and possibly pedicure, a shower to throw, shower gift, wedding gift, and bachelorette party to partake and share in the costs. Did I leave out anything? In a sense, being a bridesmaid is like having your own mini wedding. Does six mini-weddings equal one? Because if so, this is my sixth stint as a bridesmaid. I might have unknowingly experienced my own wedding . . .see Dad, it finally happened.

And don’t forget about the bride and her family’s expenses. Supposedly, an average wedding can cost an average of $20,000. Maybe that’s why everyone tells me to elope.

Now, in my 30s and still never having experienced a wedding of my own, I wonder if the brides-to-be considers the job they bestow upon their friends when they ask them to be a part of their wedding? When it’s my turn will I expect the same? I’m sure I’ll be just like every bride before me. Is it all part of the American wedding tradition or American consumerism?

Recently, a good friend asked me to be a bridesmaid for her second wedding. I never expected to be a 30 something bridesmaid. Was my father’s predication correct?

Whichever way you look at it, this April I’ll be gliding down a white carpeted area (aka vinyl) in the beautiful gardens of the Ritz Carlton to help celebrate my friend’s Spring wedding. And who knows, if I’m lucky, I’ll be the girl to catch the bride’s bouquet.

Ringing in the New Year

2005-01-10T16:36:00.000-05:00

I’ve always loved New Years. I loved it so much that I would get upset when my parents went out for the night and left me home alone with my sisters while they were out New Yearing. I’d stay up past midnight watching tv and be sad I had no one to kiss to ring in the New Year. When I look back on it now it seems so strange. Why on earth would a twelve year old be sad because she was home alone on the eve of a New Year? If I was smarter I would have invited over a friend.

When I was old enough to go out and party, believe me–I did. I took every opportunity I could. And for some reason, I noticed a correlation. The older I got, the more fun the parties got–especially at 21. Could the connection be the alcohol I was legally able to consume? Hmmm. My favorite part of the parties was at midnight my girlfriends and I would make our rounds and kiss every guy wishing them a happy new year. What better excuse to kiss new and strange men then with new year kisses? Besides, we never heard any complaints.

But lately, the partying has really slowed down. In fact, this New Year most of my friends stayed home with their significant other. I did the same. Although getting sick did have something to do with the slow down, but my boyfriend and I were in bed and asleep by 11:00. I wasn’t even disappointed that I stayed home and slept before midnight. And, the next day I realized, New Years was just another day.

Naive, bud weiser

2004-12-22T18:58:00.000-05:00

Last night I met a friend at a local bar. It was Tuesday night —aka Karaoke night. Yes, that’s right my friends. It used to be more widely popular, but now the singing fad has evaporated into the bar scene background.

Thankfully, if you are secret wanna be pop singer like me, you are glad a few bars have preserved the activity. I love to sing, and although I perform better in private -- I occasionally like a public appearance. At home, the acoustics in my shower are amazing and I blow Mariah Carey away. You’ll have to trust me on that one.

Anyway, I got to the bar before my friend, and when I walked in I realized there was a Christmas party going on. That explained a packed parking lot in a place that’s usually vacant—especially at the beginning of the week. It was all starting to make sense.

As I waited by myself, several people from the party approached me to say hello and to offer the food that was being served buffet style. Finally, my friend arrived and he and I delved into the song book absorbing every title and artist’s name like sponges.

I couldn’t decide what to sing. Was my voice strong enough for Streisand? Christina Aguilera? Or, would I put everyone to sleep with Cyndi Lauper’s, True Colors? Would I get nervous and start shaking causing my soft voice to slip into vibrato like some opera sensation, or would I remain calm? These thoughts poured through my head as I tried to pick one song.

This girl from the holiday party approached my friend and I to say hello. She was asking us what we were going to sing. She was very cordial and of course, we were friendly back. I figured she was an overfriendly girl that had been drinking. After awhile, she took a seat with us at the large table, and we thought nothing of it.

I asked her if she was going to sing, and she replied, she was waiting for her “partner.” I wondered about her use of the word, “partner,” but I figured she was referring to someone as her singing partner.

Finally, I filled out the slip of paper and got up to sing, True Colors. Boy am I glad only one person knew me—it was hilariously rotten.

Anyway, the nice girl kept talking with us and finally I think her partner arrived. Another girl with a ton of nose, nostril and ear piercings, but I wasn’t intimidated. In fact, she wouldn’t even look at me. Strange.

I finished my amaretto sour and then switched to water since it would be better for my voice if I dared to sing again. As I looked over the book of songs once more, the girl with no name, asked me what I was drinking. I showed her the bottle of water and she said, “because I’d like to buy you a budweiser.”

Whoa, back up please. Did I hear what I think I heard? The chick was trying to pick me up. I leaned over to whisper into my friend’s ear, but he just laughed.

Later as he walked me to my car outside, he said he knew all along! How did I not know? .partner? ….overfriendly?...intense eye contact? No way. So, then I wondered, do I look like I’m into other women? Do I dress boyish like? But then, what is a lesbian supposed to look like? Hmmm. Should I be flattered or insulted? I’ve remained indifferent, but I couldn’t wait to tell my boyfriend. I knew he’d get a kick out of it.

When I got into the car to leave, the smell of smoke in my hair, on my skin and clothes overwhelmed me. It had been awhile since I’ve stepped foot into a bar. And let me tell you, I forgot what it was like to be in a bar with cigarette smoking since the law went into affect banning the stuff in restaurants. Yulch. I couldn’t wait to go home and shower. In fact, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in the bar scene. In just under a year, the rules have changed fast!

Addiction of Coffee and Ice Cream

2004-11-12T11:33:00.000-05:00

I don't know about any of you, but everyday I take a drug approved by the FDA and sold in all grocery stores--caffeine. I know why people are suing the tobacco companies, but shouldn't the coffee-caffeine and soda addicts jump on board with a suit of their own? I'm officially hooked. Shouldn't coffee containers bear a warning label too?

Of course, a coffee addiction isn't life threatening, unless you consider verbal threats a coffee addict might spew to a passerbyer if they haven't had their daily cup-of-Joe. But, this addiction does have physical and emotional affects.

Without my daily cup of coffee I'm cranky, I may snarl or growl while passing you (and in my car with the windows up, I may add some expletives). Last,if I don't get my fix I'll start developing a nasty headache--definitely having a negative affect on my quality of life.

Along with coffee, I've gotten just as crazed with a new brand of chocolate chip mint (low fat) ice cream I've discovered. It should also come with its own warning label: step away from the carton as overindulging will make you fat. There's got to be a hidden drug in the ingredients.

Every night before I go to bed I'm compulsed to have a scoop or two of it or else! I'm sure years later, a scientific discovery will come out (or a memo from the company's own research department) that the mint, contained in the ice cream was actually the exact molecular structure of heroin but with mint flavor added. I know admittance is the first step. "I'm an addict."

In the beginning . . .

2004-11-10T16:14:00.000-05:00

Single Status
by Gail Simons

I could compare my "singleness" to the main character in the film Bridget Jone's Diary, but the only similarities are I sometimes write in a diary. Oh yeah, and my family bugs me about being single too!

I'd have to say the parallel ends there. Right now my single life doesn't have the happy, Hollywood movie ending-yet! In the film, Bridget found her life-mate. I tell everyone I'm still looking for mine. He's just playing a mean game of hide and seek. Come out, come out wherever you are, you little buggar.

How do singles meet other singles? I get unsolicited suggestions all the time from friends and family members. Even my grandma is in on the game . . .

Her most recent whim was to place a single's ad in the newspaper. Her best friend successfully did it for her grandchild. But when she mailed me some guys’ ads, I questioned her motives, as the average age she circled was 70! I think I’ll pass.

I recently heard about this woman who met her husband in a Pet chat room for German Shepard owners. First they bred their dogs, had a litter of puppies and ended up getting married. That’s a new one for love in 2000.

Speaking of meeting people-have you been to a chat room on-line lately? I know two people who met someone that way. Reminds me of You've Got Mail! Only neither one of them were Meg Ryan or Tom Hanks.

A friend emailed me with a good idea the other day. He said he was going to auction himself off on eBay -gone to the highest bidder! I suggested he put a minimum on the bid.

Let's get serious here. Finding the right person is vital if you want to be fruitful and multiply! But in the meantime, we have to enjoy life.