Thank you!!!

First off, thank you to all that serve our country so I have freedom. Your selflessness is amazing and I salute you.

C is in town for the week! Yay!! We both think that I should have today off of work since we're dating and he is in the Air Force. Somehow I don't think my boss will agree.

Have I ever mentioned how badly Boston traffic sucks??? It sucks a lot. Everyone is in a rush to get NO WHERE! And to all the idiots that think beeping your horn in traffic in a tunnel will get you anywhere? Um....you deserve a smack. Of course, me getting on the highway in the wrong direction didn't help matters any. I just don't get it. I did the same thing when I lived outside of Providence. I could never figure out if I had to go north or south. So C got a little tour of Boston while I figured out how to get us home. It took roughly and hour and a half to make a 30 minute drive.

So happy he is here. Did I mention that? Except for one thing. I have to work. Let me tell you, getting up to go to work sucks when he's home in bed snuggled in with the dog and cats. Ugh!!!

Home...I like the sound of that. I'm pretty settled in the new place. But let me tell you, having him there completes the apartment.

Do you think the Air Force will be pissy if I just keep him there? I'll have to think about that. I'm pretty sure they would frown upon it. Treason or something like that!

Will power!!!!

Shoes....purses.....droooool......

My BFF sent me the following text message yesterday.

"You...Me...Tomorrow....Coach Outlet. I have coupons".

That bitch! There are two things that are my weakness. Purses and shoes.

I used to ride a Harley and be "one of the guys". A few years back, I was in an accident and I swear to god, it did something to my brain and turned me into a girly girl. I traded in riding boots for Jimmy Choo's. Saddlebags for Coach and Kate Spade.

So the mention of Coach Outlet...and coupons? I'm there.

So here is where the issue comes to play. I have a lot of things that need to be done in the new place to make it mine. Paint on the walls....new floors (the current ones look dirty no matter how many times I wash them), new curtains etc. Plus normal monthly bills.

I walk into the store determined not to buy anything. And then I smell it. Purses....leather...heaven. I think I walked around for almost 30 minutes with two bags in one hand and the coupon and credit card burning a hole in my hand in the other. I mean, we're talking 50% off on both bags already. Plus an additional 20%! And then BFF asked me the question.

"So, what color are you painting the living room?"

*sigh* ::shoulder droop::

Take the bags...Just take them. Put them back. I can't do it. And we left.

Then we walk by White House/Black Market. And there is the most amazing pair of shoes in the window. Hmm....it won't hurt to look.... $150.00 shoes. For $29.95. OMG! And they are comfortable. And they even look amazing even though I am in desperate need of a pedi. Come on! Shoes that still look good on un-pedicured toes??? For $29.95?!!! I must have them!!!

As I march up to the counter with my find, my now former BFF asks, "So where to you want to go look for curtains?"

*sigh*

Fine! Take them! Take the shoes! Make them go away!!! Do it fast!!!

To salvage my night, I did find cute curtains in a pretty blue for the living room for $9.95 a pair!

Oh and my BFF? I guess I'll keep her anyway. She told me I had to.


(I think I'm going back tomorrow for the shoes anyway....)

Bad dog! No cookie!

I'm slowly settling into the new place after the disaster of moving. I actually was excited to find my belt so I didn't have to walk around all day hiking up my jeans like an idiot. Still haven't located the box that contains my contact lenses though. I hate wearing my glasses in the rain.


The cats have become accustomed to the place for the most part. Salem hid for the first day and Max just walked around like a king. I was worried about how they would be. The one that I didn't worry about was THE DIVA. My Chihuahua. She usually fits right in anywhere as long as she's with me.

Apparently not this time. We've been having small issues with peeing in the house. Minnie has been puppy pad trained since I adopted her, and has never had a problem before. In the new apt, she has to walk through the kitchen to get to "her" bathroom. Diva has decided that she cannot walk on linoleum floors and does her Bambi on the ice impression.

It's quite pathetic and she has no problem running across the floor to get a cookie. Last night I constructed a path of towels from the living room right up to her "spot". She went and all was happy. Same thing this morning. Until....

I walked into the living room before I left for work and she looked right at me, squatted and pee'd on the rug! ARE YOU KIDDING ME! Well, Little Miss Spiteful is now in solitary confinement in the bathroom until I get home. I'll admit, I'm a little nervous to see what's going to await me.

Proceeding with Caution

So it's no secret that my dating life is usually less than wonderful. It's taken a strange twist over the past few months and I think I'm into something good. But of course, there are speedbumps in the road.

Step back in time a few months with me. I'm addicted to Facebook. And all the stupid little games that keep me from getting bored at night. So on one of those games when you can interact with others, I found myself talking a lot with C.

It started with football talk. Then emails, text messages, phone conversations and a nightly online date to chat. So we decided it was time to see if the connection we both felt transcended electronics into the real world. Of course there was a little matter of 1300 miles between us.

So we decided he would make the first trip. Let me tell you, I was a nervous wreck when I picked him up at the airport. But surprisingly it was only strange for about 15 minutes and then it was like we had known each other forever. I really had the best weekend!

We have so many things in common. I can relax and be the total dork that I am and he laughs along with me. He indulged my sense of the ridiculous when I wanted to watch the Yo-Yo Guy in front of Quincy Market.

And the topper was that he loves my dog! There are not many men who are secure petting a 4 lb Chihuahua. I had to check his bag when he left to make sure he didn't dognap her!

The bottom line? I finally find a guy that I can be myself with and he's 1300 miles away. Going to be interesting to see how this is going to work.

Moving Day- The day you find out who your friends are!

I've decided there is nothing worse than moving day. That's the time you really find out who your friends are.

I decided about a month ago to start looking for a new place for a few reasons. First, my commute was killing me. Second, there were more problems with the apartment I was residing in. I got tired of hearing "We'll send someone right over". Yeah, that never happened. The last straw was when I woke to find my bathroom flooded from the upstairs apartment for the 4th time. The landlord told me that the upstairs neighbors must have dripped water on the floor from the tub. Seriously? There was 3 inches of water in my tub. How much water did they "drip"?

So I started looking. I found this cute little place that was about 20 minutes from work, instead of the hour plus that I currently drive. And there were so many bonuses! Heat and hot water included. A fenced in back yard for the dog. A walk in closet for me! Yay!!

So while preparing for the move, I happened to watch a show on A&E about hoarders. And I was horrified.... (I know, bad pun!)

Ok, granted, I'm not that bad, but I am a bit of a pack rat. And the way I figure is those people had to start somewhere. So I began the mission of throwing things away. Apparently I didn't throw enough out. I don't know where I had half the crap that I moved to the new place, but it became very clear that it wasn't going to fit in the new apartment.

Along with my couch. Which is not paid off yet. And is now sitting soaking wet (did I mention it rained during the move?)on the curb. There was no way that sucker was getting in the apt. We tried everything! At one point while trying to fit it through the door with my father, he said "it's not going in there". At this point I was pretty bitchy about the entire thing and the following exchanged happened:

Me: Fine! Just move it back out!
Dad: I'm telling you that it's not getting in there.
Me: Fine! Take it out!
Dad: Nora, the couch is not getting in.
Me: How many different ways do I have to say FINE TAKE IT OUT!
Dad: You don't talk to me that way! I'll smack you in the mouth!

I felt 12 yrs old. After I apologized to him, I said, "Daddy, can you still smack me in the mouth when I'm 36?" We both laughed at that and decided that I'm stubborn like him, so it's his fault anyway.

Oh yes, back to moving day. You realize who your friends are when you move. Apparently I have two. I was told by all these people, "I'll be there! No problem! I have a truck!" blah blah blah...

Thank god I had the foresight to hire movers for a few hours. Other than my best friends that lived next door to the old place, no one showed. Or called. WTF? Seriously? So other than the moving crew that I only had for 2 hours, my moving team consisted of my 63 yr old father, my 68 yr old step-mother that has vertigo and COPD, my 60 yr old mother, who not only has one lung, but was also sick, my brother and my two best friends. It made for a long ass day. Did I mention it was raining?

Now the fun part. Unpacking. God bless my parents. The two moms set up my entire kitchen. Dad put the bed together. So that was one less thing to worry about. But this morning, I realized that my makeup is still packed. I couldn't find my contacts. Couldn't find a belt. Or the other shoe to the pair I wanted to wear today.

I'm never moving again.

Why even ask???

About three weeks ago, I finally got my vacation! Mom and I went on a last minute cruise to Mexico for 10 glorious days! We sailed out of L.A. which meant I had to get from Boston to California. I hate flying, so when we got to the airport, I decided that a few drinks to relax were in order. We're sitting in the bar gearing up for the flight with a few Jack & Cokes and talking about our trip when the bartender starts coming on really strong. I figured, what the hell, he's cute, I'm on vacation, I'll flirt a bit.

He made a few comments here and there about wanting to take me out. He didn't seem like the smartest guy, but he was cute, so we exchanged numbers. Pretty good for the ego right before I have to put on a bathing suit.

I'll post more about the trip later.

So, he sent me a few text messages over the next couple of days. Mom made the comment that he seemed "needy".


I got a text message from him Friday night saying hello and that I "owed" him cuddle time. Um...huh? I don't even know you yet buddy. So I suggested we meet for a drink first.

Hello...slow the Steel Magnolia moment down.

We made plans to meet at a local cafe Monday night at 6. At 5, the following text dialog happened. (The names or spelling have NOT been changed to protect the stupid)

Mark-"Nora, im going to be honest with u i dont think we would be a match not going to cafe take care."
Me-" Ok. No worries"
Mark-"U r not upset?"
Me-"Not at all. I agree. We both know that I am way to good for you anyway. Take care!"

Number deleted....

Is it shallow of me to want to date someone who can spell out the big words and use correct punctuation? Narrowly averted disaster on that one.

The burning question...if you don't think we're a match, then why the hell ask me out in the first place?

Mark at Cisco Brew Pub in Logan airport? Here's your sign

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned"

Finally!!! The months of lying to my mother are OVER!!! I'm going to be saying Hail Mary's and Our Father's until my knees are bleeding!!! I haven't been able to post about what been keeping me busy for the last few months in case Mom's decided to stop on by. I've been planning her 60th birthday party for the last three months and it was this past weekend, so now I can finally talk about it. So much work, but so worth it. My mom is the best!

My sister and I decided to plan a party. My sister has four kids and is a single mom. So that means I planned the party. Of course, Lil' Sis is loaded, so the deal was that I do all the planning and get the supplies and she would pay the catering bill. Ok...is it bad that I said fine??

But man, I was a basket case. I'm horrible at lying to begin with. And it's even worse when I try to lie to my mother. The woman just knows and manages to get it out of me. I have no idea how I managed to keep it from her.

On top of it, we decided to do family pictures that she's been begging for for years. Of course, guess who arranged that one? You got it. Me. It wasn't too bad and my friend Terri is an INCREDIBLE photographer!





We decided to do a beach theme since my mom loves the beach. There is a little place at the shore that my mom and I go to every year after a day at the beach for steamers and lobsters, so we decided to have the party there. It was the perfect location. I had special invites made up that were a message in a bottle. Then I saw a picture of the perfect cake. But they wanted $500.00 to make it. Well, I decided to make it myself. Yeah...don't know if I'll be doing that one again!!! It took me three days to make the cake. Everything on it is edible. But it came out awesome and my Mom and the family were wicked impressed.

There is no way she looks 60!!

She was so surprised by the entire thing. We spent the night at a hotel at the shore and then the next day at the beach. It was a total blast. I'll post more pics when I get a chance. Now I'm off to plan a road trip for Mom and I from LA to San Francisco.

Are.You.Serious.

What is wrong with men? Seriously. The ex that I mentioned in the previous post just did not take the hint. Not that it was bad enough that he told me that he would cheat on his wife with me, he took it one step farther and sent me a text message. Of his penis. With the following caption:

"FW: Do you have someplace to put this? Love you baby".


Did you notice the first part of the caption? The part that says "FW:"?

That's right. He forwarded on the text that he had SENT TO HIS WIFE!!!

ARE.YOU.SERIOUS?

So I sent him a message thanking him for sending me a text that he had sent to his wife. Asked him to send me a wedding picture as well, because that would just really make my day.

Seriously. Who does that? Did he really think it would change my mind? Hmmm. Let's see. We lived together for 7 years. You didn't marry me. You married her after less than two years, but yet you want me to allow you to stick your dick in me? While your married. Yeah, I don't think so pal.

I will admit that I contemplated posting the picture, but even I'm not that cruel. Well, maybe I'm not. I'm still thinking about it.

If this is what is out there, then you know what? I'm all set. I'm quite happy being single.

Long time...

God, I didn't realize how long it's really been since I posted! It's amazing to me that my life has been extremely busy, yet, I haven't had anything to say. So I'll try to condense what I can remember, and hope that Faith will forgive me for being away so long.

First off...Max is still fighting, thank god. It's probably not going to be much longer, so I've been hanging with him and letting him sleep on my lap a lot. Which means I haven't been able to type. He's giving me a break for a few minutes. It's been very strange thinking of life with out him around.

Then my ex Scott came into the picture. We've been apart for about three years now. Max and I allowed him to live with us for almost 7 years. He knows that Max's days are numbered and since he'll be here visiting his family (he lives in S.C. and has been married for about two years now). Would I mind if he came to see Max. Ok...fine. I'm ok with that. There are no hard feelings, and he was with Max and I for a long time. And me, in my oblivious little world that thinks the best of everyone, didn't realize that allowing him to see Max opened up the flood gates of :

"Do you remember that night.." (yeah, I remember that night. And it's OVER!)
"How about that time we went camping..." (I DESPISE camping, And always have.)
"Do you remember the night we met?" (yeah....you were rude!)

And the kicker.....

"You're the only one I would cheat on my wife with" (I don't think so...)

I mean seriously. Are you kidding me? Once you said "I do", for me that became "I won't". EVER!

I did let him visit, but made it clear that it was ONLY to visit the cat. I mean seriously. Did he not realize what it's like to know that I was with him for 7 years, and he never married me, and then marry a woman (that ironically, I gave him dating tips for) that he knew for less than 2 years? Yeah, I don't think so.

It's been a strange time for me when it comes to men. I've been dating on and off. I met one guy and our first date was taking our dogs to the dog park. It was nice. I thought there was potential there. He was willing to not rush me. Now, he's just boring me. Please...for the love of god, please don't text message me unless you actually have something to say!!!

"How was your day? I'm going out for a bit, talk to you later" does not constitute as a reason to text message me!! And if you want to make plans with me...just ASK! I hate the beating around the bush crap of :

Him- "What are you doing this weekend"
Me- "I have a few errands to run, and going out with friends Friday night"
Him- "Oh. I have no plans all weekend. Guess I'll just hang out at home alone with my dog all weekend".
Me: "Oh....That's nice."

And I know that he's waiting for me to ask him to do something over the weekend. Sorry...If you want to date me, you need to put in a little more effort than that. Why can't people just be straight forward?

Then two strange things happened to me this weekend. I went out with a good friend of mine Friday night that I have known for YEARS! We always have a blast together, and there are no romantic interest on his part or mine. But, 10 martini's later...we're kissing in the parking lot. How the hell did that happen? Even though it was very,very nice, I don't think it's something I want to revisit. I adore him, but there are things about him that I can't stand. Being shallow for one.

Flash forward to Saturday night.

Another friend of mine, Jay, stores his motorcycle in my garage during the summer. So when he dropped off the bike for the night, he came up to visit. Gave him the customary hug and kiss and he's got to go and try to make it A KISS.

I mean, seriously. WTF is going on? Is it because I really don't want to be bothered right now? Maybe it's because the one guy that I wish would want me, doesn't?

Which is another thing all together. I adore this guy, that will remain nameless at this time. We had a great friendship, a great physical relationship, but he doesn't want to be involved with me romantically. So I have to settle for the friend route. I don't have a choice in the matter. I guess I'd rather have his friendship, than nothing at all. But damn, when I sit there and listen to him talk about these girls that he's dating that break his heart and don't appreciate him I just want to say "HEY!! You have someone sitting right in front of you that would give you the world on a silver platter! Wake the hell up!!!"

But as my wise Dad told me..." No one ever said life was fair".

And that folks, is my rant for the night.

Yeah, That's right, it's my fault.

I'm not sure how I went from the best weekend to a nasty week.

First off, it was my birthday on Sunday and we got the whole family together which was awesome. And the weather was beautiful. It's never nice on my birthday. It's been 90 degrees here the past four days. Now, I live in New England, so that is pretty much unheard of in April. I loved it!! But much like the New England weather, wait 5 minutes, and that will change.

Oh boy, did it ever. My sweet boy Max had to go to the vet on Tuesday. He's 17, and hasn't been feeling up to snuff. $291.10, and two hours later, the results are in. Max is in the beginning stages of kidney failure. I'm devastated. We're going to try and keep him comfortable, but it doesn't look to good in the long run. Could be as much as a year, could be a few months. We'll have to see. It's tough because Max is my boy. I've had him for 17 years. I got him two weeks after I moved out of my parents house and he's been the longest relationship I've had! He's been through more states, apartments and my dates, and yet he still loves me unconditionally. And he's so sweet. I mean, how could you not love this face?

You're going to stick that WHERE???

Then there is today. I don't understand why some people can't take responsibility for their own actions, yet blame others for their lack of success.

Most days I really like my job. I enjoy the clients I work with and look forward to the new challenges that each day brings. And not to sound snooty, but I'm damn good at my job. Even if I didn't like it, I make sure I give 100% to my clients. I set pretty high standards for myself. The problem is that I expect others to hold themselves to those same standards, and rarely do they meet expectations. There is a man that I've worked with for the past year. We'll call him Steve. Steve and I were hired the same day and began our training for our job at the same time. He had an advantage as he had more experience than I did, and was hired at a higher level than me. On our first meeting, we had to share a rental car. He didn't offer to let me drive, told me I would have to ask him for it if I needed it, and I better not smoke in the car. The next day I got my own rental. Over the next week of training, I got to know my other co-workers in the home office and started to develop relationships with them. Steve treated them all with disdain. As if they were not as intelligent because they are from the South, and we are from the North. When I left to come back, I walked around and said goodbye to people I'd be working with and expressed that I was looking forward to working with them. Steve just left without a word.

Over the past few months, Steve has been a huge slacker at his job. Letting client requests slide for weeks, and in some cases over a month. Management put him on notice and told him he had to step up. Well, instead of doing anything about it, he made snarky little comments to me for the past month that it was my fault he got a notice. Well, the shit hit the fan today. Our boss flew up and gave him his walking papers. He said goodbye to everyone in the office, and those who weren't an email. Except me. He didn't say a word. Just walked out the door. It wasn't my fault that he didn't do his job and I did. I didn't make him look bad, he did that himself. Plus, I found out that he was given a verbal warning and three written warnings and still didn't change his actions! But yet blames me!!! He had over three months to correct the issues.

I just don't understand how somewhere in his narrow little web-surfing republican mind that this was my fault. And what do I get for my performance? I have to take on all of his clients, plus mine for the same pay as I've always made. Oh well. I like a challenge. And I like my job. I made a commitment to this company and I intend to live up to it. It's not my fault if others don't do the same.

Dating

Have I mentioned lately how much I despise dating? Um, yeah. I don't know if it's because I'm getting older and have less tolerance for it? Or dating via text? Is it so difficult to pick up the phone and make a quick call? You don't have to have a two hour conversation, but if you're going to try to make plans for a first date, I think it's kind of tacky to do it via text.

I met a guy a few weeks ago when I was out with my girlfriends. Honestly, I was skeptical at first because the guy was young. 11 years younger. But hey, I was flattered at the same time. So I gave it a shot. We talked for a bit, and he seemed like an ok guy. And at the very least, I'd get dinner out of it.

Then the text messages started the next day. Can you have dinner tonight? This, of course after I'd already told him I would be away for the rest of the weekend. So he switched it to one night during the week. Ok, great. Then he cancelled. Then makes plans for the following Saturday. And never called to make arrangements where to meet. I sent a message. No response. Until midnight on Sunday. I mean, seriously. Then he had the nerve to ask to "Make it up to me". Are you serious? Three strikes and you're out, pal. So I politely told him to lose my number and let me know when he grows up and becomes a real man.

The best part was when he called me two nights later at 1 am asking if "Greg is there". Ok, your number came up on my phone, dumb ass. Did you think I would not realize who it was? Note to self- always listen to your gut. I knew I was skeptical for a reason.

Not sure why I'm getting asked out by guys that are 10 years or so younger. I mean, I'm lucky, I don't think I look almost 36. But do they think that I'm hard up or something? This whole "cougar" movement is really screwing with my love life. How can I have a relationship with someone who wasn't even born until the 80's?? Unless you lived through the torture of 80's music and the horrible clothes of the 70's, we really have nothing to talk about!

Then I heard from an old friend who is just getting back into the dating scene after a divorce. We agreed to meet for dinner. Very attractive man. We have similar interests and we're both single. I was looking forward to it. So we made plans for dinner on Saturday at 7.

He showed up at 8.

Ok, he did have a valid reason for being late. But still. Is a phone call or even a text too much to ask for? "Hey, I'm running late, I'll call when I'm almost there." I don't think that's too much to ask for really. Is it that I just have certain standards that I expect people to meet? Is it unreasonable to expect common courtesy?


My grandfather asked me once why I had never married. I told him, "Papa, I'm waiting to meet a man just like you!" Well, I'm still waiting. And starting to think that my grandfather was one of a kind.

Life Makeover

I've decided that I need a total life makeover. Part of this could be because of the upcoming birthday that is rapidly approaching like a freight train bearing down on Nell Fenwick tied to the tracks.





Yeah, Where is the damn Canadian Mountie when I need him?

I've been taking stock and have found much coming up lacking. Granted, I'm better off than most people. I have a job. I have a new car that's paid for. I have a wonderful family, and great friends.

But I have no life. Seriously. How does one get a life? I started the gym this week, in preparation of actually having a life. The goal is to lose 40 lbs. Got my first reality check there. Holy shit, am I out of shape. I had a session with the trainer at the gym that totally kicked my ass and made me totally disgusted with myself. I thought it was strange that all of the exercises they showed me didn't involve any of the equipment. I mean, I could do all this stuff at home.

So, I know what I have to do. Then...it happens. They try to sell me the "training package". Ok. It's part of the job. They present all the benefits of working with a trainer, and I am totally psyched for this! Great! Someone that will kick my ass into shape. Then they give me the prices. I have to sign a contract for either 3, 6 or 12 months. Enrollment fee $149. Plus $60 a session for a 1/2 hour! On top of the $40 a month that I pay just to go to the gym!

I double checked the price list, and I totally didn't see anything about dinner and foreplay included in the ass fucking they are offering. I mean, they could at least throw in complementary lube.

Then my friend tried to get me to join one of those on-line meet people sites. And they asked what my hobbies are. Um...yeah. What the hell do I do? Let's see. I read. A lot. Not really a group activity. I walk the dog. At least until she gets tired after 4 blocks. Then I carry her. Then it dawned on me. I really have no life.

So I made the big mistake of talking to my Mom. Though I have admitted that Mom is awesome, but sometimes she gets totally in Mom "lecture" mode, and all it does it get me pissed off. Spouting off all the pearls of wisdom that Mom's do.

"The only one who can change your life is you!"
"You have to be happy with yourself before you can be happy with someone else".
"You need to get out more with your friends"

And it went on and on and on for about 20 minutes. Yes, this is all great advice. But where the hell do you start?? What happened to the idealistic girl in her 20's that was ready to conquer everything and enjoy life to the fullest? What happened to the passion for life that I used to have? The only thing I can think of is that she turned 30. And started worrying more about making everyone else happy. I lost sight of what I wanted from life. How do you get that back?

So if you have any suggestions on where the hell to start, please pass it on. I need all the help I can get.

A few quick hits....

I've been slacking a bit, I know! (Sorry Faith). So here are a few quick hits and updates.

1. The family is all finally home! I can finally relax and plan my own vacation. And I can tell you, I won't be calling any of them!

2. I still say it was not a date. But...my friend could teach some of the guys I've been out with a few lessons on how to treat a woman on a date. Not only did he insist on paying for dinner, he kept up his end of the conversation and did not spend the entire time staring at my breasts.

On to new business.

When the ex and I split, he included a bookmark that his son had made me for valentine's day in the box with my things. Now, not being a cruel person, I decided I had to acknowledge it. So I sent him a thank you note telling him how much I loved it. He drew pictures of the dogs on it. Very cute. I figured that it was up to the ex to decide to give it to him or not. What I didn't expect is that his son would call me from the grandmother's phone. Sigh...I thanked him again, but apparently the ex figured it was a good idea to not tell the kid that we're not dating anymore. Yeah, really great. So when the kid asked when he would see me, I told him he really had to just talk to his father about that. I felt like a shit.

Last thought of the day. Whoever came up with the great idea of "Spin" classes should be beaten. No, worse than that. They should be drawn and quartered.

I went to my first spin class on Sunday. All of my friends have raved about the classes and how much I'll love it. I woke up bright and early Sunday morning to go to my first class at 9:15. Now this is huge for me, because I am not a morning person, and Sunday's are made for sleeping in.

So I arrive at the gym in my little workout clothes with my bottle of water and towel. The class is pretty crowded for a Sunday morning with people of all sizes and ages. A lot of them were a lot heavier than I am. I thought to myself "Ha! Piece of cake!"

Then the perky Irish instructor comes in with her little blonde pony tale and fit, toned body. I hated her at first sight. Then the class began. 55 minutes of hell. Stand up, sit down! I felt like I was at church. After the first 10 minutes I was praying to god like I was in church!

I start to realize a few things.

1- I am WAY out of shape.
2- The sweats I'm wearing make my thighs look like jello stuffed in gray sausage casing.
3- The sweats look ok at home. Where no one can see me.
4- I'm so short that when I try to stand and pedal, the seat repeatedly slams into my ass/crotch.
5- I wonder if I will have to have the seat extracted from my ass in the ER.
6- Why is the 65 yr old lady next to me making this look easy, damn her?

Oh, who am I kidding? I lasted 30 minutes and three days later, my ass still hurts.

A Date? Or not a date?

I had to pick Mom and Sis up from the airport on Tuesday. So at lunch, I ran out to fill up the car with gas because Boston traffic sucks, and you never know how long you'll be sitting in it. I wasn't going to take my chances with a half a tank of gas. I was having a pretty good day, and had actually gotten up early so I had taken my time with hair and makeup. Thank god!

Now this is a pretty good size station. They have like 8 pumps on each side of an island. As I'm standing there pumping gas, a truck pulls up behind me and a guy gets out and I gave a quick glance, and looked away. The guy is talking on a cell. Then I hear his voice. I look again, and realize it's an old friend of mine. We haven't seen each other in about three years and lost touch. And the funny part is that he didn't recognize me until he heard my voice. I've cut my hair and it's straight (when I take the time to battle all the curls). We exchanged numbers with promises to get together soon.

Now, we met through another friend years ago who wanted us to meet because he thought we'd hit it off. And we did. As friends. The timing just was never right. And then I see him this week. He looks wonderful. We had a great chat on the phone the other night and we're having dinner tomorrow. And part of me wonders if this is the time?

I mean, what are the odds of us running into each other like that? I live an hour away and though he works in the same town as I do, we haven't run into each other in the year I've been working here. I usually get my gas closer to home, and he was actually supposed to be working that day, but ended up having the afternoon off. Five minutes in either direction and we would have totally missed each other.

But...I'm in that "I want no part of dating" mode, so is this a date or not a date? I'm thinking I should just consider it as dinner between old friends. I don't want to rush into anything, but honestly, I haven't had sex since Christmas. I mean WTF....it feels like FOREVER.

In my personal "date or not a date" guidebook, it states if you don't shave your legs, then it's not a date. That covers two things. It makes it not a date, and it makes sure I keep my clothes on, so it might just be a solution.

I'll keep you posted.

Concierge Service

I've decided that I need to start charging my family for concierge services. Seriously. As I previously mentioned, I offered to drive Mom and Sis to the airport. I warned Sis that she better be ready to go when I get there at 6 am.

Of course she wasn't. I purposely got there 20 minutes early because I knew I'd have to whip her into shape. When I walked in the house she was still stuffing clothes into a suitcase. One of three. Not counting her purse and carry on. Um...no. I don't think so. I asked her what was in the second suitcase and she said "shoes". Are you kidding me? They are only going from Wednesday to Monday!! She had 10 different workout clothes, at least 20 little hootchie dresses (she's a mother of 4...um, yeah), 25 shirts, enough bra's and underwear for a month! She could have totally dressed corner of prostitutes for a month! And then a garment bag for her business clothes! At least 7 different suits! And they were all shoved in there with no order.

Um, yeah. No. Told her straight up, no way in hell. So at 5:40 in the morning, I repacked her suitcase. I got her down to one suitcase, a garment bag, carry-on and her purse. Then there was my Mom with her suitcase, carry on and purse. I swear to god, when I dropped them off at the airport they looked like the Beverly Hillbillies.

After safely delivering them to the airport, I drive to work to arrange to have Dad's wife's coat shipped back. What the hell ever happened to southern hospitality? They will ship it back if I send down a shipping bag, label with the account number on it. I mean, seriously. I was going to give them the account number over the phone! So not only do I have to pay to get the coat shipped back, which was fine, but I also have to pay to ship the damn bag down there!

And then I get home. And get the phone call from Mom and Sis. The hotel is horrible. The rooms look like something from the 70's. The rooms and halls smell. They are afraid to sit on the beds, and can I find them a new room. I looked up the hotel and read the reviews. I can't believe they even booked there. One review talked about roaches in the hotel. There was maybe two reviews that were actually positive. Three calls later, they are booked into the Hilton. They lost one nights stay, but I think it was worth it.

Today comes the call from Dad. How does he get home over the Tapanzee Bridge instead of the GW? And why didn't I take the GW when I used to travel. Well, that's easy. The GW is a clusterf*ck, that's why!!! I don't care why time I used to travel through New York, I never made it over the GW without at least a 45 minute delay. So gave Dad the routes he needed to take from Cape May, NJ over the Tapanzee home to MA.

And not to be outdone...Mom called on my way home. Apparently she went to use her ATM card today and it wouldn't work. Turns out the new ATM card she got last week was not her ATM card, but her credit card and now she has no cash for the week. So first thing tomorrow morning, I have to Western Union money out to her so she has cash for the week for tips etc.

Sigh...I can't wait until everyone is home so I can relax. I'm going to need a vacation to recover from their vacations!!!

I think I'm broken....

Don't most people have a filter that stops things from coming out of their mouth?

I think mine is broken.

I'm not talking about the filter that stops mean things from coming out of your mouth. I'm talking about the one that doesn't let you say no to people. Or before you can stop yourself from saying "I'll drive you to the airport", the words are out.

For example, my mother and sister are going to San Diego for a week. While Mom and I were discussing the cheapest place to park at Logan (there is none) I hear the words coming out of my mouth. "I'll drive you to the airport." Then it hits me. They have to leave for the airport at 6 A.M. I live 45 minutes away. Which means I have to get up at 4 to get them and drive them to Logan, then go to work. Ouch...Did I mention I'm NOT a morning person? But it's my mom. And according to my sister, I'll rack up daughter and sister points. What ever the hell that means. I didn't have the heart to tell my sister that I'm full up on points.

Example two- The bio-dad calls today. He and the wife # 3 are on vacation. They are currently driving back up the coast from Florida. Apparently Wife left her coat in a diner somewhere in South Carolina. All he knows is it was called Kettle something. So being the good daughter, I Google Kettle Diner in South Carolina. Turns out the Kettle Diner is actually in Jackson, North Carolina and yes they do have the coat. But I have to call the General Manager tomorrow to see if she will agree to ship it to me if I give her the UPS account number.

And hour later, Dad calls again. Can I get him the number of the Mirage in Vegas. Now since I can't follow the logic of why he wants the number in Vegas when he's in North Carolina, I made the mistake of asking. Turns out that they are staying in Atlantic City for the night and wants to know which hotels are affiliated with the Mirage. Christ Jesus, why didn't he just say so? So I look it up. The Borgata. Here's the number Dad. Have fun on vacation.

So I guess my other question is why is everyone on vacation but me?

Operation Prada

Well, it's been a week since the breakup and I had to decide if I had anything at the ex's place that I really needed to have back. I didn't really want to have to go there for two reasons.

One, it's a 40 mile drive. I hate that drive. Two, it's been almost three weeks since I've seen the puppy, and I knew I would get upset if I had to say goodbye to her.

So I went through the mental list. A few sweatshirts. Bathroom stuff (hey, I'd rather smell like mango than musk. Sue me) A pair of slippers. All these things I can live without. Then it hit me.

My black Prada purse is hanging on the back of the bedroom door. Shit.

It's not like it's a Target one that I can live without. It's freaking PRADA!

So my best friend offered to go with me. Thank God for her. We decided to go Friday night after he went to work. I really did not want to hear a grown man beg. It's kind of pathetic. Friday afternoon I get a text from her.

"Is Operation Prada still a go?"

I just about pissed myself laughing. So I sent her the theme song from Mission Impossible.

I don't know how she did it, but she made a situation that should have been upsetting, freaking hysterical!

Operation Prada was a total success.

Followed by Operation Tequila...

and Operation Hangover.

I have the best friends!

Na na na na na na Na na na na na

"I guess I just lost my husband, I don't know where he went"

So the drama is finally over. I've decided relationships are kind of like plants. If you don't water them, feed them, and give them some sunshine, they die. Which is an ironic analogy for me, because I think I have a black thumb when it comes to plants. But it's true. The ex-SO didn't really do anything wrong. He just didn't do ANYTHING. At all.

I do feel a bit bad that it all went down the day before Valentine's Day (aka Capitalist Bureaucracy Holiday). But that is the only thing I'm feeling. I keep thinking that I should be sad. Or miss him. But I feel nothing. Well, I kind of miss the puppy. I got more love and attention from her than I did him.

I guess the only thing I'm dreading is dating again at some point. I've had a few winners in my past. There was the guy that I met through a friend. We'll call him Mark. Mark showed up over an hour late. Wearing ripped jeans (think Def Leppard shredded) and a doo rag. On.A.First.Date. Because we had a friend in common, I actually went. In the middle of dinner, we had the following conversation.

Mark- "So, are we going to have sex tonight?"
Me- blink. blink.
Mark- "I don't like condom's. But I've been tested and I don't have any diseases."
Me- "Listen, pal. I don't know who you'll be having sex with tonight, but it sure as hell won't be me!"

Waiter! Check please!

So I'm really dreading entering into that world again. But the good thing is that I'm pretty damn happy with my life alone. If I meet someone else down the road, great. But I won't settle for a selfish bastard EVER again. But if anyone UP THERE is listening? Try not to send me anymore of the idiots for awhile. I really need a break.

Asshat

For the first time in god knows how long, I was looking forward to a Presidential Address. I was so excited to finally hear a President speak in coherent sentences. Then came the the question and answer section. Unscripted! Yes! I can't wait to hear his answers. Then some asshat has to ask the Stupid Question of the Night.

"Mr President, what do you think about A-Rod's admission to using steriods?"

*Blink. Blink*

Are you kidding me? We are in one of the worst financial situations we have seen in decades. Our troops are dying in Iraq. And your that is your big question?

You deserve a bitchslap.

Grace part duex

So the crutches met their demise this morning. Do you know how hard it is to walk on those freaking things when there isn't any ice? Well, thanks to my wonderful landlord, I have a freaking ice rink in my driveway. So the crutches took a nice little flight across the driveway, after which they were unceremoniously run over by a car. Multiple times. Oh yeah. My car.

The crutches and I have a bit of history together. Before I became a girly girl, I was a biker bitch. But a classy biker bitch, IMO. Well, maybe not all the time. But I digress.

My love affair with motorcycles started about the same time as my first tattoo. Incidentally, the same guy who talked me into the tattoo was the one that owned the Harley. After a few years (ok, a lot of years) I decided I was tired of waiting for someone to take me on a ride, so I bought my own for my 30th birthday. It opened up a whole new world for me. There was nothing else I enjoyed as much as hopping on the bike and feeling the sun on my face.

Then...it happened.

Biker's are a strange lot. When one of us dies, it's a sign of respect to ride to the wake/funeral. I was riding alone to a friend's wake about 4 years ago and I was about a 1/4 mile away from the funeral home when an asshat driving a blue Ford Taurus pulled out in front of me. Of course she was talking on a cell phone and "didn't see me". Let me tell you, the worst feeling in the world is that instant that you realize there is no way in hell you're going to be able to stop. In that split second I thought "Oh shit. This is going to hurt".

SMASH!!!

Oh yeah. That hurt. My first thought as I was lying on the ground in a puddle of gas was "My mother is going to freak". The next was "Shit, I broke a nail!"

Then the pain hit...For the love of god. Horrible.

But I'm one of those people that doesn't scream and cry and carry on. I crack jokes. After I tried to take a swing at the twatwaffle who hit me. (tough to do laying on the ground.) The EMT's arrived and started checking things out. They advised me that no, they didn't think it was a good idea for me to have a cigarette at that time, and what hospital would I like to go to (there are 4 in the surrounding towns). Hell, Med City has a Dunkin Donuts, so that's where I want to be. It would have been a more enjoyable ride if I hadn't felt like every bone on my body was being smashed with a hammer and if the ambulance hadn't hit every pot hole on the drive.

We arrive at the hospital and they tell me they have to cut my clothes off. Ok. I get that they don't want to move me too much until they know what's wrong, but I have my favorite bra on from Vickie's and that sucker costs $60 and fits perfect! I told the doc, no way in hell you're cutting that off. "Well, Nora, we need to get it off you." Hey, you're a guy! Figure it out!

Turns out I had fractured my pelvis. In two places. Apparently, it's not a normal thing to slam your pelvis into a gas tank of a bike at 40 mph. Who knew?


That dent at the base of the tank? Yeah, my pelvis did that.


Then the long months of mortification started. It was bad enough that my father was in the room when the doc comes in with the x-rays. Dear old Dad now knows where every body piercing is and what type of birth control I use. Thanks for that, Doc.

There is nothing they can do for a fractured pelvis. I had to stay off it, and stay still. Of course, both my parents wanted me to come recover at their houses. Yeah, not going to happen. They both live an hour away from me, and I have cats to take care of. I made them take me home. I figured that my place is all one level, so it would be easier. In retrospect, this might not have been the best thing.

It's 4th of July weekend. And my cable goes out. Of course they can't fix it until Tuesday, so the only station I got had a Rocky marathon. Back to back. Over and over again. FOR THREE DAYS. I can't drive. Get in and out of the shower alone. It's very humbling to ask a friend to help you get into the shower. Then there is the challenge of carrying things. How do you carry a plate of food while on crutches? I lived on PB&J for three months. I would put them in a ziplock back and throw it from the kitchen to the living room. Or carry a glass of soda or coffee? Yup. Threw a can of soda and then had to wait to open it. The delivery people in the neighborhood and I became fast friends, let me tell you. After a month of being stuck inside, I started hitting on the PeaPod delivery boy (he was maybe 21).

Peapod guy "Where do you want it, Ma'am?"
Me- "I've been stuck inside for a month, that's a loaded question"
PG- "I mean your groceries"
Me- "Oh. In the kitchen. Thanks"

I wept when the doctor told me three months later that I could get rid of the crutches.

To this day, when I hear "Eye of the Tiger" my pelvis aches.

Just call me Grace

Yesterday I actually started out in a great mood! Looking forward to giving myself a break from the whole diet thing. After all, it was Superbowl Sunday. That's a good enough reason to dive into some wings and nachos, right? Besides, I was drinking Mich Ultra, and that really doesn't count. The SO and I went to his buddy's house to watch the game. Now, since my Pats were out of it, I wasn't as excited as I could be, but even I was impressed by James Harrison's 100 yard interception return for a touchdown in the 2nd quarter.

I wish I was that graceful. I'm not.

Somehow, I managed to slip on the ice and chip a bone in my ankle. Are you kidding me? I was totally sober, so it's not like I even have a good excuse for this level of stupidity. So now I have to hobble around on crutches for a week. Yeah. You should see the level of grace that I'm sporting on those suckers.

Is winter over yet, because I'm pretty much all set with it!

25 Things...

1. My Mom is my best friend. I hope to become half the woman she is someday.

2. I feel that I value the people in my life more than they value me.

3. I have two cats and 1 1/2 dogs. Minnie the Chihuahua is my baby. She changed my life. Unconditional love is something that only Mom's and Dogs really understand. My oldest cat, Max is 17 years old and my first love. I got the second cat, Salem, when my then boyfriend told me if I got another cat he'd move out. He lied.

4. I am obsessed with Elvis. I spent 6 hours in Graceland, ate PB & banana sandwiches and cried at Elvis's grave. I wore a dress and heels because I didn't want to be disrespectful to the King.

5. I'm a bookworm. I have always read everything I can get my hands on. When I was younger, my mother used to take my books away when I was in trouble. I considered watching TV punishment.


6. I will watch the Godfather if it's on TV. No matter how many times I've watched it, I can't change the channel.

7. I have been engaged twice. Married, none. I think I may have commitment issues. Actually, I know I have commitment issues. I haven't found a man worthy of committing myself to forever. That's my issue.

8. I used to own a Harley. I loved it until I was hit by a woman talking on a cell phone. I spent 3 months alone in my apartment, with a broken pelvis, contemplating life under the influence of Vicodin. I realized life is too short to be miserable. And that PB&J gets old when you eat it three meals a day for three months.
.
9. I have 10 tattoo's. 6 body piercings (other than my ears) I don't regret any of them.

10. I had a stuffed owl as a child. My parents told me it flew away. I believed them.

11. In the blizzard of 78, our old Italian neighbor ate my pet rabbit, Thumper, when he couldn't get to the store for food. I hope Thumper gave him indigestion.

12. My favorite color is red. I have red in every room of my apartment in some way.

13. I trained to be a cop. I wish I didn't give it up to move back North. Corporate America pays the bills, but it will never be my passion. I am still looking for my passion.

14. I have over 10,000 songs on my ipod. And I'm not even done loading the cd's. I have forgotten more random music knowledge then most people will ever know in their life.

15.To date, the worst day of my life was when my dad died. I can remember every vivid detail, every second of that day. I still wake up at 4 am expecting to hear the phone ring. I wait for it to fade, but it doesn't.

16. I can't stand the quiet. There is always a radio, IPOD, CD or TV on. From the time I wake up in the morning, until the time I go to bed. I think I would rather live in the dark, then to live in silence.

17. The happiest time of my life was when I lived in VA Beach. It was also the worst.

18. I hibernate from November to April. The cold makes me bitchy.

19. I never thought I wanted children. But I offered to be a surrogate for my best friend. And yes, I would do anything for her. She has saved my life on more than one occasion.

20. I used to want plastic surgery. Big boobs, smaller nose. The older I've gotten, the more I've realized that if someone loves you only for your looks, that it's not the type of love I want.

21. I hate to be the one to end a relationship. I take the coward's way out and pick fights. I hate to hurt anyone, even if I know that the hurt will fade, and it's the best decision for both people.

22. Most people think I'm a cold, tough bitch. Those people don't really know me. I would do anything for those I love.

23. My dad taught me the most important lesson in life. "I may not always be right, but I'm never wrong".

24. Most days I forget to eat. Unless someone reminds me.

25. I thought my 20's were the best times of my life. Then I realized in my 30's that I hadn't seen anything yet. I am actually looking forward to what my 40's have to bring. I think women start to come into their own in their 30's, and the world better watch out when they perfect it in their 40's.

Tired

Do you ever have those days where you are just tired? Of everything and everyone? I'm having one of those days.

This may turn into a rant. I apologize in advance.

I never make resolutions. Ever. Why make something that you know your not going to keep? Well, I think it's time to make one. And keep it. My entire life I have done everything to make everyone else happy. Even if that is at the expense of my own happiness. I give so much of myself and never expect anything in return. But you get to a point where you have nothing left to give. I'm tired of accepting less than what I give. Now, I've already mentioned that I think my mom is wonderful. I'll say it again. She is the one person in my life that I can ALWAYS count on. She has never let me down or fallen short of my expectations. Is it sad that she is the only one?

I'm the type of person that remembers everyone's birthdays, anniversaries. Their kids birthdays. I am the grandchild that always calls, visits. I am always the person everyone calls to bitch, or ask advice. Or fix their computer, TV, IPOD. It's always "Can you do this", "Can you help me with that?" But I don't feel that I have anyone to lean on. Including my SO.

I have to say that he is a great guy. But I think it's my fault that things are falling apart. I set a pattern from the start of not asking for what I needed from him. And doing too much. And in doing that, I set the pattern for our relationship. I was too available. Did too much. Made things too easy. In the 6 months we've been together, we've been out to dinner 4 times. Twice with his family, twice with mine. I don't think we've ever been out to dinner alone. He's been to my house once. I am there 3-4 times a week. Even though I have an hour commute to and from work, and then another 40 minutes to his house. He is a very quiet guy. But am I wrong in thinking that you should talk to the person who is supposed to be in love with you?

We barely ever go out. Night after night of being in the house gets old. For example. I told him that I wanted to go and see "Grand Turino". So he surprises me. Not with a night out, but a copy that he got somewhere to watch at home. Am I a bitch for being pissed because he just didn't get it? I.Wanted.To.Go.Out.

We just got the puppy fixed. The poor thing broke my heart. He doesn't let the dogs sleep on the bed. Which is fine on most nights. But she didn't cry as long as I was holding her. So instead of letting her sleep in the bed with us, I slept on the couch with the dog. Because he doesn't compromise.


I'm a people person. He is not. I feel like we lead two separate lives and he really doesn't know me at all. I've made things to comfortable.

I'm not sure where to go from here. How do you talk to someone who won't talk? How do you fix a relationship with someone who thinks nothing is wrong? How can he be so blind not to notice? Can you fix a relationship when you've started to resent the person?

All these questions, and I don't have answers for them.

Makers Mark

Wait, That should have said Making Your Mark. Though a little bourbon wouldn't be bad right now.

I was having a conversation with a friend of mine that has just gone through a breakup and is being very reflective about the decisions he's made in his life. He was wondering how to "make his mark" on life.

It got me thinking. What kind of mark is more important? I guess it depends on how you look at it. Do you want to make your mark on society so that someday you're a Wikipedia entry?

Or do you want to make a more personal mark?

On the ones that come from you, come after you? For example. My step dad, Joe. Little background for you. Joe was a very quiet guy. Not flashy. Where he worked, he didn't want to be management. Was happy with what he did. Was happy and content with who he was. He could be rigid and stubborn in his thinking. But he was fair. He died 5 yrs ago. I think while he was alive, he never thought of the impact he had on others lives. We didn't.

There were over 500 people that came to his funeral. And cards to our family came for weeks after. Some where from people who he only dealt with via phone at work.

His granddaughter was 6 days old when he died. The youngest grandson was not even born yet. But they both know who Papa Joe was. The type of man he was. And that is because of us. His wife, his children. Those who came from him, and me, who did not. Because of us, his grandchildren will know the man he was. And will hopefully pass that to their children. The wife he chose stood by him for 25 years. And makes sure he lives on in us, in the grandchildren.

So, will that mark last 150 yrs? Maybe not. But what is more important? Making a mark that affects the lives of strangers? Or making a mark on the lives of your family, children, and friends?

I know what I would choose.

Minnie, Max and Mom

My entire life my mother has been terrified of animals. All animals. Cats...Dogs... If it had fur and more than 2 legs, she wanted no part of it. Growing up the only animals I could have, had to be in a tank or a cage, and even that was pushing it.

When I first moved out on my own, the first thing I did was get a kitten. Max is my baby and he's now 17. He and my mom came to an understanding. He stayed away from her, she stayed away from him. Though this understanding had a lot to do with the squirt bottle I armed her with.

Max





About a year and a half ago, I decided to get a dog. I had watched a story on the news about all these bimbos who wanted little dogs to carry in their purses and when they realized they were more than an accessory, they dumped them in shelters.

The day I found Minnie, who is a 6 yr old Chihuahua, and informed my Mom that I was adopting a dog, she was less than thrilled with the idea. She tried to talk me out of it. One conversation went something like this:

Mom- Did you see what happened to Paula Abdul today?
Me- No, Ma, what happened?
Mom- She tripped over her Chihuahua and broke her nose.
Me- And???
Mom- I think that's a sign.
Me- A sign? What kind of sign?
Mom- I think Dad is sending you a message not to get the Chihuahua.
Me- Wait...Let me get this straight. Dad, from beyond the grave, made Paula Abdul trip over her dog to send me a message not to get a Chihuahua?
Mom- Exactly!

Over the past year and a half, she has come to love Minnie. She's her "grand-dog". But I think it has a lot to do with the fact that she can "boot her like a football" if she gets too close.


Minnie




Seriously? How can anyone be afraid of a dog in a coat with a fur collar?

In Shock

So, I was thinking about posting a funny, witty story that a friend and I had the other day, when my ex called. (More on ex's later) A good friend of ours was cooking dinner for his girlfriend last night and as he went to get something out of the fridge, he had a massive coronary. He was dead before he hit the floor. 37 years old.

I am in total shock. I have no idea how to feel, what to do, what to say. How does that happen to a 37 year old man in the prime of his life? What is the purpose? That's why I thank God for every day I wake up. Life is too short. Live each day like it's your last.

Rest in Peace, Adrian.

Happy Freaking New Year...I'm fat...

As I uploaded pictures from Christmas on the computer, I couldn't help but notice that I looked fat. I thought to myself, maybe it's just the way I was standing. Or sitting. Or maybe it was just the outfit. Then, on New Year's Day, I decided to step on the scale.

Then I got off the scale. No way that could have been right. So I got my dog. I know she weighs four pounds, so I put her on the scale to test it out. 4 pounds. Hmm... maybe I should try the other dog. She weighs 6 lbs.

The t-shirt I was wearing...that's what added to it. Oh! and the water-bra. That weighs at least a pound. So I stripped naked and got back on the scale. With my eyes closed. Slowly I opened one eye...then slammed it shut. Thought to myself, maybe something is wrong with my contacts? Opened the other eye. Sigh....

I slowly come to the realization that I officially weigh more than I ever have in my life.

I decided to blame it on the SO. He's 6'6" and can eat anything he wants. If I was 6'6", I'd be the perfect weight! But, I am 5'3". So unless I figure out how to gain 1'3" in height, I better work on losing 30 lbs instead. My goal is 30 lbs by June. I would like to get back to my pre-boyfriend weight. So if I have to suffer...so does he. Let the fun begin!

Christmas Gold

Dad + Mom's ass= Dad appearing to kiss Mom's ass.



Christmas Gold, my friends. Christmas Gold.

What family is really normal?

Since I just started this blog, I'll give you a bit of the back story on my family. Get comfortable, this could take awhile.

Cast of Characters:
Mom- my mom
Dad- my Dad
Mike- Step dad (father of Sis & Bro)
Ann -wife # 2 (Mother of Sis & Bro)
Ursula- Wife # 3 ( just a muther...I mean, Mother)

I am an only child. Then my parents got divorced.

Now this is where things get a little confusing, so try to keep up.

My parents and their best friends, Mike & Ann* all get divorced. Then Dad marries Ann and Mom marries Mike. Between them, they have three children.

So, over the years, all four of the parents are thrown together at various functions for us kids(Plays, dance recitals, communions etc. Amazingly, they are able to be civil for our sakes. (somehow Dad & Mike remain friends)

Then tragedy strikes! (cue dramatic music) Dad and Ann get divorced! And shortly after, Dad meets Ursula. and gets married.

As the we got older, my sis and bro got married, had children. Still, they all remained civil. Mike passed away in 2003. Devastates the family.

flash forward a few years. Mom, Ann & Ursula in the kitchen of Sister's house

Ann: (Dad's ex wife # 2 " He took me on a cruise to Aruba"

Ursula: (Wife # 3) " He took me to Rome"

Mom *blink*

Ann: " He bought me a gold and rubies"

Ursula: " He bought me platinum and diamonds"

Mom: * blink blink*

Later on that day...

Mom pulls me into another room and asks

Mom: " Did you hear Ann & Ursula trying to one-up each other?"

Me: "Yeah, Ma. I heard. and I'm proud of you that you didn't jump in there"

Mom: " I didn't jump in because I had him when he was poor and I got nothing. The way I figure it, I trained him for them, and they owe me half of everything they got!"


I love my Mom.



*names have been changed to protect the idiots...

Mojo Part Duex

As I said before, the SO and I adopted a puppy together. I will state again that it was his idea to get said puppy. Because I am weak when it comes to puppies, I went along with it. I figured my dog Minnie would love the company. So we picked out this cute little Chihuahua and named her Mojo. The breeder said that she was the most laid back one in the litter. And she has the sweetest little face. Which is probably the only thing that saves her life on a daily basis.



Yeah... I reminded him that HE was the one that wanted a puppy.