Saturday, December 31, 2005

Still Life-2005

As life unfolds....

...these moments were held together... your love, your laughter....

....and the light you shine on my heart.

There are many moments not shown; those I hold for myself.

Thank you for keeping me smiling.


Friday, December 30, 2005

2005 Year End Review

What a year 2005 has been. It's been a tremendous year for growth and change, and definitely a year of patience. I've acquired new relationships and strengthened many old ones; laughed more than I can remember and loved so much that at times it bursts right out of me.

I learned how it feels to let my laughter free (without restraint) and embraced my downfalls. I've learned more about other people and what it is like to love someone for all that they are-and are not. I've learned how to change a toilet seat, drain a basement full of water and hook up a sink.

I've lived, for over a year, alone. And though at times, it is hard to be brave and it is hard to have no one here to hug me when I'm down or to look at me and just "know" I've had a bad day, I survived. I've taught persistence and strength to people I did not even realize knew I existed and lent my strength out to friends who were short of it.

I've lived. I've loved. And that's more than I could have hoped's to hope and lots more tomorrows. Happy 2006 everyone!

January: I learned what a P trap is and how to dismantle and install a bathroom sink and vanity. I also learned that men in plumbing and home improvement stores are very intimidated by a girl who knows what she is talking about. I also overcame the physical fear of falling asleep in a dark and empty house.

February: Family cruise to Mexico! Fantastic fun in the sun. Went to my first nude beach (though I didn't get neked). Sang Kareoke for the first time in public and bought a major piece of art at an on board auction-and promptly returned it afterwards. (A pencil signed Dali) Briefly dated a boy who was balding. (Gasp!)

March: Dated a boy who was 6'6". Went to a ham and bean (I was wondering why the Hammonds had a bean dinner and I wasn't invited!!)benefit dinner. Bought a brand new silver Saturn.

April: DISNEY TRIP! Surprised Git Er Dunn with a treasure hunt/trivia hunt with the last clue telling him I'd be in the audience at his school's chorus performance at Walt Disney World. Proved how "007-ish" I really am with my dark glasses and my astounding ability to quickly duck behind trash cans and ice cream counters.

May: Met Mr. CM for the first time. Made a fool of myself by picking the scariest movie on the planet for our first date movie. Also thought for some reason he had a freckle identical to mine on his right ear, proving to myself that I must stop looking for "it must be fate" moments. Saw John Edward in "concert" and felt the most amazing energy I've ever felt in a room before.

June: I told God off. Blatantly. I told Him I was not ok with what he dealt me and that it was not fair and that I deserved to be happy just like everyone else. I learned that our souls pray for things even before we think them. Wrote a letter saying "It's not ok" to forget about me.

July: Had the most amazing birthday I've ever had because of my family and friends and Mr. CM. Started this blog in secret thinking it would be short lived and not successful. Went tubing with my sisters and laughed harder than I've ever laughed in public-while in the water.

August: I'm sure I was smiling and laughing. I had a good summer. I think this is the month I was presented with the skull and cross bones on my lawn mower.

September: Realized once again that I have no control over certain things and the only way to cope is to have faith and hope and to continue to focus on the positives.

October: Was thankful for my friend Skinny Pete when he once again came to my rescue during a catastrophe. Most thankful that HE waded through the knee deep mucky water in my basement and allowed me to stay at the top of the stairs and remain dry.

November: Tried my darndest to write a novel. Began posting "House Broken" and got so much positive feedback that I continue it every Thursday. E-friendships blossomed and I got to know 2 of you better.

December: Participated in Lantern Light tours at Mystic Seaport, reminding me how wonderful it is to perform for people. Rejoiced that I was not sick the week before Christmas. Was reminded yet again how wonderful my friends are.

Thursday, December 29, 2005

House Broken: Part 10

Financially she knew she could not stay in the house alone after he left. Though they had not yet talked about what she would keep and what he would keep, she was certain he would be fair when it came to the house. Her concern was that her father, who had handed them land without hesitation, would be upset at the prospect of it now leaving the family.

The home was an ego boosting build, boasting four bedrooms and two and a half baths. There was a formal dining room and living room with an oversized family room and eat-in kitchen. Upon entering the home, many people could not believe that a couple so young owned it. The walls were richly painted in slate colored greens and buttery yellows. Warm hard wood floors flanked the foyer and thick velvety sage carpeting wound its way up the stairs. In the kitchen, a large double window over looked the Connecticut River. They also had a perfect view of the Essex Steam Train, a local attraction; the consistant whistling reminded them of their time in Florida.

Her heart ached at the thought of losing the house; at the thought of all of the dreams that made up each nook and cranny; each little bit of character that came through when they designed the plans. It wasn’t so about the house, but the knowledge that though dreams may come true, they do not always last.

Like the spot in her heart, which she once reserved for him, the house they built on dreams would also soon be empty.

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Baby, It's Cold Inside

Sometimes it is hard to be brave. Today, that means it's harder to be alone. And I know. There are 16 of you who are saying, "You're not alone". And I know that. I do. But I am.

I live alone. I sleep alone. I wake up alone. I eat alone. I read alone. I sit and wonder about life alone. I worry about the house alone. I take care of the garbage alone. I clean out the closets alone. I replace the toilet paper less than you because I am alone.

When I need a hug, there's no one here to give it and when I just need someone to look at me and know that all I need is a smile, or to sit in silence and hear another human breath, there is no one breathing.

And somedays it doesn't matter. And somedays it is better this way. But somedays, like today, it would be really great to have someone smile at me and let me listen to their breathing.

I've realized that I am a much more social person than I ever thought. I enjoy being alone and I enjoy quiet time and I enjoy being able to leave my clothes on the floor or eat Berry Berry Kix for dinner instead of making chicken.

But I miss the interaction that goes with having someone to live with. I miss having support and miss knowing that although it snowed 6 feet I'll have someone to help, or that if the roof caves in I'll have someone's shoulder to cry on AND we'll fix the situation together.

And what's funny about all of this is that I've never had this kind of relationship. My ex-husband did little else but work and Jamie was, well, nuts. He created more drama than any house in the country could. So how can I miss something I've never had?

I think this is coming from the fact that my home owners insurance denied the claim I submitted for the flood and I am stuck with an $800 bill and an oil tank that is threatening to run out of oil. And it's no one's responsibility but mine. And that's both exhilarating and scary.

Which is why I said that sometimes it's hard to be brave.


Curiously Strong Breath

Everyone's had bad breath. Whether you ate onions on your sandwich for lunch or your meatballs are repeating-you've been there. Usually in these cases, you are aware of your foul breath and often mask it with a curiously strong mint or some gum.

And then there's the breath that you don't know you have. The cotton mouthed "I need a drink of water" breath. This is when true friendships are revealed...when instead of letting you plod through your day offending people with your stanky cotton breath, they tell you to brush your teeth or eat a mint. These friends should promptly be elevated in status, as everyone knows how hard it is to tell someone they stink.

There are times though, when I can not understand how someone can NOT know their breath is rank. Take, for instance, the "breath so bad I can smell it in when I pass your office" breath. I don't really think that I need to elaborate on this, however, for the sake of elongating this post, I will.

If your office smells like your rancid breath, you know it's time to brush your teeth.

If, when passing your office on the way to another location I can smell your rancid breath, it's time to invest in some mints.

If having a conversation with you requires a gas mask, it's time to get some gum.

And also, that smell lingers. I don't know how you do it, but, Bravo! You managed to somehow get your smelly breath to last, and last and last...well after you've left the building. Perhaps you are in the wrong line of work.

But here's my question to you, my smelly mouthed friend-even if you don't know that your breath is the source, don't you wonder what the smell is when you walk back into your office?!

Why aren't you tearing that sucker up trying to find moldy cheese or a leftover lunch container? How can you not be spraying cans and cans of air freshener and scrubbing your desk furiously trying to eliminate that God awful smell?

It just makes me wonder...that's all I'm sayin'.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Toosdae ?'s

Cure your Post Christmas Depression by answering some of these here questions...ok...cure MY PCD by answering these questions! >8-)

1. Would you rather have to hunt and gather all of your food or put all of your meals in a blender before eating it?

2. Would you rather be kept in the dark as long as possible about bad news or would you want to know up front and get it over with?

3. Do you have to return/exchange any gifts this year? What gift will you NOT be keeping and who gave it to you?

1. The thought of a liquefied steak dinner makes me a little queasy, but hunting and gathering all of my meals would be difficult, mainly because I can't see myself cleaning what I kill. I mean, have you READ Clan of the Cave Bear?!

2. I like the idea of going through life without struggle and conflict, however the feeling you get when you realize someone's been lying to you all along to "protect" you is one of the worst feelings in the world and I do not ever want to feel that pain again. So, I say, "Bad news-bring it on!" (Hopefully none of you have any for me.)

3. I had to return a coffee maker that my parents bought for me. I wanted one that brewed 1-2 cups of coffee at a time. It came with 2 travel mugs so that I could easily brew my java while in the shower and drink it on my way to work. My mother bought a Pod coffee maker that requires special tea bag-like "pods" and brews like, an espresso sized cup of coffee. The worst part is that the one I want is not in stock and so now I have to search Connecticut for my coffee maker. They did do well with all of the other gifts though, so I can't REALLY complain!

Monday, December 26, 2005

Respect Benches 380

7 letters, 1 little word...
The billboard intrigued me. Scattered from Hartford to Stamford, they simply say, "Operation Respect" and show the site,
Without even going to the website, I began thinking about how much better the world would be if everyone respected their neighbors.
If everyone turned to their left and smiled at a stranger-even if (and especially if) they were shorter than you, fatter than you, browner or redder than you, if they walked with a limp or talked with a lisp-the world would be a better place.
If everyone helped a stranger by holding a door, carrying a bag or offering a seat, I suspect we'd see more smiles than frowns.
If you start, I'll start, and he'll start and we'll start, and then everyone will forget what it was like to NOT be respecting and appreciating and loving and caring.
Respect. It has your back.
Check out the website. Even if you are not from Connecticut (Or the United States even) the concept is wonderful. I was shocked to read that 160K students stay home from school everyday simply because of bullies. I love that this program is geared toward children-but hope that adults embrace it as well.
Help cut the bull.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Happy Holidays!

Happy Christmahansaquanica Everyone!
I'm off to celebrate the bestest most fantabulous holiday with my family in Nueva York. I'll return on Monday...MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!

Friday, December 23, 2005

Hot Coals

Here's a question for you. If a parent is not watching their child and something happens to them because of this lack of supervision, who is to blame? Is it the place in which the accident occurred, or is the parent's fault?

There are incidences, I will agree, where the company is liable due to some sort of negligence. However, when a 4 year old child is not being supervised by their parents, it makes me angry to hear them blame the company when accidents occur.

Last night on one of our tours, a little girl sat on the opposite side of the boat from her mother. She was 4. There is a large, very hot coal stove in the middle of the boat which was separating the mother from her child. At no point did the mother think there was anything wrong with this. The tour guide did mention several times that the stove was very hot, "Mind the stove, it is hot." and not to touch it. Again, nothing from the mother...

Until the scene was over. She then called to her daughter and told her to "Come here!" The girl proceeded to walk past the stove and PURPOSELY touched the stove, with her palm open. The poor girl was burned, however only whimpered and whined, and said, "I didn't know it was hot!"

It was the kind of whine kids produce when they are not really very hurt and they think they are going to get into trouble for doing something wrong.

The family is inquiring about why the stove was hot and why it is not roped off. They are planning on "talking with someone important" tomorrow about it.

What really bothers me about this is that the mother did not seem at all interested in keeping her child safe, even after being warned that the stove was hot. In my opinion, it is her negligence that caused her child's injury. Had she been sitting next to her mother in the first place, she would not have had to walk past the stove, and would not have had the opportunity to curiously check to see if it was really hot.

I understand that children can be difficult and it may sometimes be easier to let them have their way instead of hearing them whine or have them make a scene. But shouldn't parents be taking more responsibility for their children? It seems like more and more people are shrugging off their responsibilities and are far too eager to pass blame.

Does anyone else agree? If you disagree, also share. I'm not a parent so my view could be off, but I somehow don't think so.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Adventures In Babysitting

Were you adventurous as a child? I was. One of my first memories as a toddler is of a day my Papa was babysitting me while my parents were working. I must have been around 3 because I could walk very well and could carry a conversation. I seem to remember that I was wearing a pair of burnt orange corduroys and a yellow mock turtleneck shirt...ah, yes, the wonderfully stylish 70's.

My Papa was a marvelous man. He was vibrant and silly and always had a smile in his eyes. He was very mischievous and loved playing jokes on people. He was a great friend to any toddler and I wanted to play.

But Papa had work to do. I remember standing on the red brick patio under the worn vinyl awning tapping my foot impatiently.

"Papaaaaaaa! I wanna pway wif you!"

"Papa has work to do Maggie. Go play with your dolly"

"No Papa! Pway wif me!"

"Mags, I will play with you later. Go play with your dolly and let me finish. Then we'll play."

Sadly, I imagine, I turned and walked to the door and went inside where I sat on the brown couch with big yellow flowers talking to my dolly, Baby Beth. (Who I still have, by the way) In my mind I waited hours, perhaps days, for my Papa to come back inside so I could play horsey, or hide and seek or some other fantastic game in which I was the apple of his eye. The only thing I heard was his hammer-he was still working.

Because I still had my shoes on (it was a sin to go outside without shoes on) I went back outside.


"Yes Maggie..."

"I wanna go home."

He laughed his chuckly laugh. The one that he used when something amused him, but in a loving way.

"Go ahead Mags." And he kept hammering.

It's important to note here that Papa has 6 children, and all of them lived past their childhood. I am, however, the first grandchild. The next only came 6 six years later, and so it seems he was a bit out of practice on his "What not to say to children under 10" laws.

So, my Papa told me I could go home. And that's what I did. Or...I tried.

The neighborhoods in New York back then were safe. We knew the names of every family on the street from start to finish, and they knew ours. It extended out past our blocks and so we had a tiny little community of people who were a part of our lives, however indirect it may have been.

I wandered. Houses looked the same, streets became mazes. I do not remember much about the trek, but I remember one house was very large and dark, and the grass seemed spikey. I avoided that house.

I am uncertain how long I was gone, but it was long enough to get about 2 blocks up from my Nana and Papa's house. It must have been a long time-remember I was only 3. Little legs don't walk very fast. I apparently knocked on several doors asking the inhabitants, "Is my mommy home?" and when they said "No" I would leave and continue to the next house.

Luckily someone recognized me and called my Papa before anything happened to me. My mother, needless to say, recruited my Aunts and Uncles to babysit me from then on.

But Papa always let me have the bestest adventures in all of New York.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Bursting At The Seams

Close your eyes...can you smell it? The faint smell of Obsession and cold leather. Aunt Sue just got back from her boyfriend's house, and now everyone is home. The house is bursting at it's seams and loud, boisterous people are crowded around the table, their likeness is unmistakable; it's in their eyes, their noses, even in their hands.

The spaghetti sauce is too thin, but that's the way he likes it. Nana makes it that way for him, I know, because she loves him more than anyone in the world. He balances her silliness, gives her new material to work with; he laughs at her jokes. She's cried with laughter at his. I have seen it, it is real.

Manicotti filled pans line the counter, meatballs are stolen from the pots. A child laughs, it's my sister, curly hair flying crazily as she dancing in the center of the room. "Watch me!" she squeals, her chubby cheeks dimpling with her smile.

Someone, an uncle, tells a dirty joke-one that I am not supposed to hear so another someone yells, "Oh! Shhhh!!" and I blush. I heard the joke, and I understand. I want to be included because I know what they are talking about, but I still enjoy being their little angel; their almost grown up niece.

It's almost midnight now and people smell of wine and garlic and their cheeks are rosey and they are warm. My eyes are heavy and I blink through yawny tears quickly so no one sees. We're all piled in the living room, mostly on the floor, but I'm on someone's lap. My sister is nestled in my mothers arms, asleep against her will.

Presents are divided, handed out to each person. Only one-the get it started, and then we will wait until tomorrow.

I am lost in the frenzy of "OOO's!" and tissue paper and I look around at all of the people I love, knowing in my heart that my real gift has no ribbon and does not fit neatly under the tree, but sits all around me in my grandparents house which is bursting at the seams.

Christmas Eve. 1980's style.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Toosdae ?'s

Here are this week's questions. Be a dear and answer them-you know, because it's Christmas an' all!

1.Would you rather eat four entire fruit cakes or drink a gallon of egg nog in one sitting?

2.What is your favorite Christmas tradition?

3. Are you "famous" for any holiday dish? What is it?

1. Fruit cake has raisins in it, right? I'll take the egg nog. Though drinking a gallon might make me feel ill, the very thought of having to digest like, 50 raisins makes me sick. And thinking of those shriveled little things expanding in my stomach is just too much.

2. My favorite Christmas tradition is opening presents with my family. We open them early because we travel on Christmas Eve. We all pile into the living room behind our mounds of presents and go around the room opening up one at a time. It takes a couple of hours and we are all silly and happy and laughing-even my cranky mom and my impatient dad. We usually get dinner or lunch afterwards and have a jolly old time.

3. It's not a holiday dish but one year I made a hot crab dip that made everyone swoon. Yeah, it was that good. So, people bug me to make that every year. I also make a killer hot artichoke dip.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Tears On My Blog

When something tragic happens to someone you love, how do you react? Is it immediate or more of a slow burn? Are your feelings out in the open or do you tend to hide them well? What does your reaction say about you?

I don't know the answer to that last question, and I wish that I did. Not that knowing the answer would change who I am or how I react, but it would give me some insight on what makes up the person I call Me.

In times of crisis I tend to be reserved; I show no panic, no tears. I plot in my head the things that need to happen now to make the situation better, often knowing that nothing I can do will accomplish that. I sometimes wonder what people think when they see my reaction-or lack there of.

When told that my grandfather died in 1999, I simply asked at what time and if he was sleeping, and walked into the bathroom and sat on the floor quietly thinking about him for a half an hour. I then thanked God for taking him softly, said a prayer and told my Papa that I loved him...and went on with my day.

People expect you to cry. They expect you to fall on the floor, whaling and screaming and cursing. But I don't. And I don't know why.

It does not mean that I am not feeling sad, or uneasy or angry. Because I was sad. It does not mean that I loved him any less than any of my other family members who did cry. Because I do love him very much. What does it mean then?

Yesterday something horrible happened to someone I love very much; and watching the message being delivered was hard for me. I watched confusion turn to panic turn to grief turn to strength. In 30 seconds. While tragic, it was also beautiful-and I know that is strange to say. But it was. It was life. It was love. It was real.

But I am no less real. Though my love for my friend can not compare to the love this person has for him, I do love him very much. I feel pain for him, and am hurting because he is.

I suppose all of this is just my way of crying; my way of letting the feelings of "I can do nothing" out. Tears come in many forms. The important thing is that they come. And that we face them. And that we let them go.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Under The Weather

(There may be a post later)

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Zippy Twinkle Toes

What's your Elf name?
Post your answers-share in the silly fun!
I am:
Zippy Twinkle Toes

House Broken: Part 9

He was working as an engineer on the steam train that day and looked particularly adorable in his light blue denim overalls. She loved the way he seemed born to drive the train-the way his soul actually glowed when he was in the cab, driving guests around the theme park on a train that was a piece of history.

On this day, the air was warmer than usual and the sun was relentlessly bright. The lack of a breeze made her skin sticky and she was very uncomfortable in her costume.

The train station was just above her work location, and when the trains were idol, she could see the engineers in their cabs. Three trains ran that day, and his was now in the station.

He tooted the whistle once, signifying that the train would be leaving shortly. It is a sound that will forever hold a special place in her heart-a high pitched steam infused toot, with the after effect of steam billowing out of the train. When she looked up at the station, he was leaning out of the cab, looking back at her.

“C’mon up!” he motioned.

She shook her head no and laughed, pointing to the turnstiles that she had to stay near.

“Come ride with me” he yelled, breaking the rules and calling attention to himself and to our courting.

“I can’t! I am not on break!” But as she said that, her relief came over and told her to take her break.

He gave her a thumbs up as he tooted the horn again, letting the conductors know that it was last call, the train would be leaving soon.

As she climbed the last step to the train station platform, he stepped out of the cab and extended his hand.

“You’re chariot awaits, my dear.” He said in his best Prince Charming voice.

She lowered her eyes and gave him her best “I want to be your Cinderella” look and finished it off with her sparkling smile. “Thank you” and she took his hand.

The inside of the train’s cab was extremely hot, as it was a true coal running steam train. Teams of 2 people drove the train in shifts throughout the day, maintaining the fire and keep a schedule. They also cooked hot dogs.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yes, but I won’t have time to eat.”

“Sure you will” and he opened the hatch to reveal bright orange embers. Set on top was a tin foil packet filled with juicy hot dogs, waiting for her to indulge.

Laughing, she asked, “Did you plan this for us? A hot dog luncheon on this here train?” she asked in a Southern accent.

“Yes ma’am, I sure did! I even brought the buns!”

It was outrageously silly and off the wall things such as these that made her want to be near him. She wanted to soak up every detail of his quirky mind, of his crazy antics and unique sense of humor.

“Well, thank you. I do believe this is the craziest most original date I’ve ever had. And I love hot dogs!”

She stayed with him and his partner for 3 rounds and 2 hot dogs and then she had to go. Her shift was almost over and she wanted to be sure she relieved her friends before going home.

“Thanks again for lunch and the ride. It was a nice change. I really liked it.” She was beaming-obviously excited about the attention he was showering on her.

“Anytime. I’ll see you around, ok?” He looked around quickly, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. It tasted salty, like the hot dogs they just ate for lunch.

As the train pulled away, she closed her green eyes and let the sounds and smells of the moment envelope her whole being, allowing her to once again appreciate how lucky she was to be standing where she was, and that the engineer of the train that was pulling away liked her.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Googled Again

Today I had scads of people (ok, not scads...4) visit me from Google searches. But that's a lot more than usual. What where they searching for?

The every popular: Tourrettes Syndrome

And then...Silly Laws and Lipgloss (HUH?)

Addicted to plucking

And, Eye Ulcer

Yesterday I had a few people visit because they were searching for the Transiberian Orchestra, Carol of the Bells, and also Blind.

The Hairigami is also getting me some hits. Nice.

It also appears someone yesterday had a hankering for ice cream and Googled "Maggie Moo" (for the ice cream place) and I pop up there now too.

I know, I'm a geek, but it really makes me smile when I show up on Google.

Should I just post random words here and there to get more hits?

Beer, sex, flamingos, Trafalgar Square, rhinoceros, Playdoh, Tequila, Hairy Dogs, Third Base, Hand lotion, Cold and flu season and Christmas trees.

Let's see what I come up with now!

(Yeah, I know. I already SAID I was a geek)

Golden Balls and Itchy Feet

Do people really still go bowling? I was amazed yesterday when I drove past a bowling alley (at 9:30am!) and saw like, 25 or 30 cars in the lot. Who are these people and why are they bowling at 9:30am?

Do any of you know chronic bowlers? I’ve known of people on bowling leagues. But these are people who have other things in their lives and typically join the league with friends and a promise of free beer. And maybe a trophy.

But at 9:30am on a Tuesday, there were at least 25 people bowling. At 9:30am. And that’s not even counting the other people they may have brought along with them. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never woken up and thought, “Yesterday was a really shitty day. I’m callin’ in sick and I’M GOIN’ BOWLING DAMN IT!” Nope. Not me. I’d choose maybe, um…shopping. Perhaps for shoes that don’t require disinfectant prior to wearing them…freakin’ bowling. Are you kidding me?

Who are the people who bowl at 9:30am on a Tuesday? Let’s see…I’d say someone named Biff and probably Chuck. Their wives Candy and Sue tag along and chain-smoke in the corner (though I think it’s now illegal in there too…but I could be wrong). Sue is prego-Candy is doing her nails in the same white trash pink I spoke of last week. They’re looking forward to having lunch with their men: Cheese dogs and beer.

Do these people really exist?!?! I almost wanted to forgo my eye exam just so I could go in and observe.

I know, I know…some people bowl for a living. They train vigorously day in and day out, picking up balls, swinging their arms and practicing that cool, “I just got a strike” hand move that’s always followed by a “YESSSSSS” or a “Who’s number one?!” (I know you know what I’m talkin’ about, so don’t even try to deny it.) But I find it hard to believe that the people I saw parked in this particular bowling alley are some of the world’s best bowling contenders.

And do the world’s best bowling contenders still look like my stereotypes? Or did they “clean up good” once they won their first golden ball? Did they switch their Bud Ice for Guinness or Sam Adams? Do they snack on honey-roasted cashews instead of corn nuts? Do they-gasp-wash their hands after playing?

Oh, to know the details of a chronic bowlers life…

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Toosdae ?'s

1. Would you rather slip on a banana peel and crack your tailbone or be attacked by a herd of squirrels?

2.Would you prefer to go to the doctor, the dentist or go sky diving?

3. Have you ever cheated on a test? Tell me about it.

1. This is a tough question because right off the bat I think, "No WAY would I want a herd of squirrels all over me." But then I started thinking about the whole length of time in pain aspect of this question and a tailbone takes a while to heal. You also would have trouble sitting down, laying down, and well, moving. So, after careful consideration folks, I'd take the squirrels. Bring it you furry little nut lovers!

2. Ever been on a motorcycle? You know how sometimes, bugs fly into your face? I think it would 500 billion times worse when sky diving. But birds might be involved. And as some of you know, I have a freakish addiction to lip balm. This has nothing to do with sky diving. It has to do with the dentist. Even thinking about his chalky rubber gloves resting on my lips for a 1/2 hour is making me uncomfortable. So, I'd choose the doctor. Even if I was getting a shot, I think it would be better than the other 2.

3. I haven't blatenly cheated, no. My freshman year in high school I sat diagonally in back of (on the right side) the smartest girl in school. She was a junior, and lucky for me, she was right handed. One day we had a pop quiz and I didn't study and while I was (truthfully) looking around in space trying to conjure up the Spanish words for the English ones on the paper, I saw smart girl write the first letter of the word, which made me remember the word I needed. She happened to be on the same questions as I was and so though she didn't give me the answer, she gave me clues...I think I got a 95%.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Deal Gone Bad

What is the thing in your life that makes you stop and say, "Wow. I'm in a completely different spot than I thought I'd be."

For me it's today: 12/12

Today's the day I was married. Isn't that freaky? Though I have memories and it does have meaning, it's so strange for me to think of myself as someone who's been married. Especially because my life today is so different and I've experience so many wonderful things NOT being married it makes me shiver to think I may have not experienced them.

It also makes me shiver to think I could still be married to Matt. I know, I know, it sounds mean. But he was really rather dull in comparison to people I've met over the last 2 1/2 years I've been divorced. In fact, I just stumbled upon something he wrote and thought, "This is so without passion".

In true Maggie fashion, here are some good things I remember:

1. Woo Hoo and the chase.
2. The Christmas Parade. (You may get some of this in House Broken...)
3. "You'd better let me sign these fiance is about to have an E.P.I.S.O.D.E!"
4. Slow dancing in our new room.
5. Mr. Roboto
6. Cramming into the minivan to see if we'd all fit for our NYC trip before the wedding.
7. Buying me the perfect bouquet, even though it was too expensive, just because I loved it so much.
8. Telling me you didn't get a piece of cake b/c you knew I'd give you mine and then watching the video later and seeing you had at least 4! (This still makes me giggle)
9. "DO YOU SEE THESE TEE-SHIRTS? I'M THE GROOOOM AND SHE'S THE BRIIIIDE....(mater of factly) we're getting on that plane."
10. "We came all the way from America just so I could buy Smarties from this store...please let us in." and then..."Wow. I can't believe that fucking worked!"

So, here's to memories, but also, here's to deals gone bad.

Looking forward to more days filled with passion and laughter, and less with tears and frustration.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

Weekend Randomivity

Warning! Radomivity below:

If you have balls big enough to wear a Santa suit AND marry someone who wears a hat that resembles crazy blue fraggle rock hair, be a little more lively. There's a certain amount of "This dude's gonna entertain me" that goes along with dressing crazy. Follow through or get off the boat.

It's nice to see that employees are kept in line and seem happy to work in a retail location. It's not nice to hear a manager scold a very attentive salesman because he went out of his way to help me. It's nice to see said manager turn red when I replied, "I for one appreciate the extra service and am definitely going to come back here because of Tim's generosity."

100 Calorie Oreo packs are a great idea if you are watching what you eat, but only if you are not a hard core chocolate lover-they're less chocolatey than Teddy Grahams. If you are a crunch lover like me though, you'll like 'em.

Having neighbors who help you shovel can make your heart explode with happiness. Especially if you live in my crappy ass neighborhood with Scary Boo and the Mean Disability Lady.

Thong underwear can make you crack up more than once. Especially if they really weren't there in the first place.

You're next tour will be clowns! Only have 1 leg? GREAT! We'll take you...deaf and mute? No problem!! C'mon in!

It's funny to hear a man call a woman a slob in the middle of the Christmas Tree Shop. It's even funnier when she goes back to argue that she only knocked over the display because she lost her kids and doesn't have time to clean it up...and continues to argue when the man finally replies, "If you have time to argue you slob, you have time to pick this up." and walked away. Merry Fucking Christmas you slob!

Being let in on a secret (YOU know who you are..yup, you...YES, you!) makes me feel special.

Muddy water...gone!

If you call me and leave frantic messages on my phones, SOMEONE BETTER BE DEAD. That's all I'm sayin.

Having a friend give me his honest opinion on something close to my heart makes me grateful for his friendship.

I liked it a lot. tmitntlytmif.tmyap.

Oh How I Love Thee

Oh Mr. Cableman, how I love thee.

Thank you for re-connecting my cable so that I can once again stare blankly into the nothingness they call "entertainment". Thank you for unlocking the door to hours upon hours of "secret" family recipes on the Food Network and riveting, life changing stories on TLC.

Thank you Mr. Cableman for giving me the power to lay for hours surfing through infomercial after infomercial, making me realize that I too, can have the body of a 20 year old supermodel and also make a smoothie in under 15 seconds. Thank you, thank you, thank you, for without this 'education' I might have otherwise perished.

Oh, Mr. Cableman, you gave my freedom back to me the other day when you reconnected my telelvision, my portal to laziness; my eternal link to another world-freedom to do nothing on a random Wednesday night and perhaps a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Oh, Mr. Cableman, how I love thee...

Friday, December 09, 2005

Tea In China

Give, and it will be given to you... for the measure you give will be the measure you get back. ~Luke 6.38
I recently came across someone who mentioned that he snowblowed his neighbors driveway last year on a whim to be nice. He then followed that statement up with: "But I never got a 'thank you' so needless to say, I only do my driveway now."
I understand completely that I often expect too much from people-that I expect that people are good and caring and that they want to help others. And I understand that people fall short in my eyes too often, and it's my own fault.
However, I believe this person has something wrong with his brain and quite possibly his heart.
First, let me recap. He did a good deed-without being asked. This is a step toward greatness in my mind. I'll even say it's sexy. People who do things for others without being asked and without provocation is one of the most wonderful qualities in a human being.. But he clearly was not doing it out of the goodness of his heart. He was looking for recognition.
"Needless to say, I only do my driveway now." I understand that it was impolite for his neighbor to not say thank you. (This is another topic for another post) However, if he was looking for a thank you, perhaps he should have knocked on the door and said, "I snowblowed your driveway, you can thank me now." He might as well have. He did not do it simply so his neighbors life would be easier that day.
Doing things for people to make them smile, or to stop them from frowning should be the only reason for doing something kind. Seeing their cheeks twitch and the light in their eyes should be your reward. And, if you do something anonymously, knowing that the receiver is most likely shocked and touched by the gift/act is worth more than any tea in China.
Give without any thought of return, and feel your heart soar.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

House Broken: Part 8

Read Part 7: Here.

"I'm going to start looking for a new job this week. Maybe in the city. I can live in Hoboken with my cousin until I find something of my own."

She was shocked. Although she knew that living in the same house as roommates would not be as easy at it sounded, she could not imagine having to live in their large house alone.

They built the house just four months earlier, but had been planning it for almost two years. Excitedly naive, they laid on their bed pouring over different house plans, dreaming of the children they would fill the rooms with. Modifications were made, rooms added, color swatches chosen-all for a house they were not yet even sure they could build. Her parents owned land, and talk of gifting it to her for as a wedding present made them sick with anticipation. When the time finally came, they not only knew which house they would build, but also which face plates they would have on their light switches. Life was that predictable.

"You're moving out? When?" She couldn't help it-she sounded nervous. She hated letting him see how affected she was by the thought of being without him.

"I don't know. I have to find a job first. I can Hoboken until I find my own place if I get a job in the city. I'
ll just keep my things here and come back when I need them."

It irked her when he said things like that-just assuming that anything he did would be okay and that no one would ever question his thinking.

"If you move out, you're out. I can't keep having you come back and forth, never knowing when you'll be here and when you won't. That's no way to live."

"It's my house too. I'll keep things here if I want. I won't be living here and we both know I travel a lot so I won't be here for any significant amount of time. Besides, I pay for most of this house, don't forget."

He stared at her, daring her to counter him, daring her to argue so he could make her feel inferior.

And with that look, he defeated her always.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005


I'm going to Walt Disney World!!!!!!!!!


(I just booked my airline tickets)

Yes, I'm a bit of a Disney freak-but in a good way.

Pour Some Sugar On Me

"I want to run or die or get fucked up. I want to be blind and dumb and have no heart. I want to crawl in a hole and never come out. I want to wipe my existence straight off the map. Straight off the fucking map. I take a deep breath. Let's go."
From this book.

I've been lucky enough in my life to never have been truly addicted to anything. I drink, but not a lot, I've never smoked and only tried pot twice. Though I am by no means a skinny girl, I've not ever been a binge and purger nor do I seek comfort in food.

But I have felt like I've wanted to wipe my existence straight off the map. And some days it still creeps in.

"Right off the fucking map days" came when I loved but wasn't loved back-when my husband needed my help but refused to let me in, when my sisters didn't know-couldn't know, what I was going through or why I couldn't stop it, when I realized I was being used and that nothing I knew was real. It comes when I realize my bills are higher than my pay or when I come home to an empty house and no one but creditors or telemarketers have called me, emailed me or sent me mail.

And then I take a deep breath.

"I stand and I pick up my tray and I walk to an empty table and I sit down and I start eating. The oatmeal is gray and mushy and disgusting but the sugar tastes good. It soaks into my tongue and its sweetness is the first taste I have recognized aside from whisky or wine or smoke or vomit since the evening of my accident. I like the sweet and the taste means that some of my senses are coming back."

Let's go. I tell myself. Stop trying to wipe yourself off the map. Stop trying to disappear; stop trying to find the hole that will never let you out. Start small; breathe. Next step-a smile, and a giggle will surely follow.

The sugar is working-my senses are coming back.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Toosdae ?'s

Hello Toosdae Todies! You know the drill. Fill my comments section with your loveliness!

1. Would you rather wear a big, plastic cone collar like animals wear to keep them from licking themselves OR braces that don't allow your knees to bend?

2. What's the farthest you've traveled? Tell me 1 weird/funny thing that happened while you were there.

3. Which of the seven dwarfs personifies you the best: Dopey, Sneezy, Sleepy, Bashful, Grumpy, Happy , or Doc?

1. I think I would rather wear the knee braces. Only because I remember being very annoyed once when I couldn't see around a corner when something was blocking my line of vision and knowing that the cone would prohibit any peripheral sight would just drive me batty. And also, I live in a one story house, so if need be, I could just stay here and have people visit.

2. I traveled to France. While there we went to Versaille where you had to pay to use the bathroom. The person I was with took the correct coinage out and presented it to the attendants. As we were walking into the bathrooms, we were stopped and told in French to stand outside because we didn't pay enough. We double checked, but were confused because we had indeed correctly paid. After about 10 minutes, Matt gave up and simply walked over to the garden area and peed in front of everyone. (It was December too-frigid!) I, on the otherhand, had to wait another 2 hours before we left. When we got back to the hotel we asked the front desk how much money we had (still thinking we'd made an error) and they confirmed we were right. Apparently they just didn't want us using their toilets.

3. I'd definitely say Dopey is first, then Happy and Bashful-though people say I'm outgoing, I'm really quite shy sometimes. And lately at work I have been Grumpy.

Monday, December 05, 2005

Isn't It Ironic

Do you ever notice that when you complain about something, it happens to you? For instance:

I complain about people blocking my way in the grocery store with their carts, and sure enough, I become oblivious to a man trying to pass me in the pickle isle.

Or when I talk about someone who is always late and then I end up being late the next day.

And how about when I see someone's unkept hands and think to myself that she really needs a manicure and then I suddenly find myself painting my nails with white trash pink polish.

I especially enjoy the irony of me complaining about bloggers who never update their blogs because they think they have nothing to say, and then find myself in the exact same predicament...

Irony. Gotta love it.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Tales From A Schooner's Belly

Things I learned on opening night:

1. That my fake husband Dr. Evil knows a lot of useless things, but all of them make us laugh. (I must add that he also knows a lot of useful things too.)

2. I have to invest in gel insoles. Although I am wearing boots that have relatively no heal, my knees and legs are killing me! Course this could also have to do with the fact that for the first 2 hours I refused to sit down because I didn't want my bustle to fall.

3. Drunk people equal big fun. They cheer loudly when Mr. Nicholas arrives safely home, quiet down when Mrs. Nicholas shooshes them and make sexual innuendos about us when we say,
Mrs: "I have to get my husband home to his family."
Mr.: "Yes, I have much to do tonight"

4. Tours that have small children just look at you in a confused state...."But mommy, why is SHE wearing Santa's coat"....and, "Was THAT Santa?"

5. Wheelchair tours suck. All I can say is I'm just now beginning to feel my toes again. Brrrrr.

6. I can go 10 hours without peeing.

7. Getting out of costume (4 layers on the bottom plus boots and 4 layers on the top) is hell when you are zonked.

8. By tour 5 you are exhausted and really starting to wonder "WHY did I do this??" but then you get a fantastic group and it re-energizes you. See "Drunk people equal big fun" above.

9. The white haired lady who stood in the stairwell is dumb. Anytime an actor bumps into you on the way in and dramatically motions for you to get out of the way on her way out MEANS YOU SHOULD MOVE!

10. Christmastime is wonderful. Looking out over the water in picturesque Mystic, hearing carriages pass by with people caroling is really heartwarming, and it makes me happy that I am a part of that.

DING! Fries are done!

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Holiday HooHa

Happy Christmas everyone! Tonight's opening night! Judy has forgotten her lines (AAAHHH) and my eyeball is still ulcerish (OOOWWW) but it's officially the Christmas season and I couldn't be happier!!

Yesterday after work I went and got my Christmas Tree. I was helped by an overly friendly (quite hot) Home Depot boy. Today was the perfect day to put up a tree because:
1. It was VERY cold out. My nose and cheeks got red while picking out a tree. I even had my winter coat and gloves on. AND it snowed on the way home. *Sigh*
2. I was feeling down because of the whole eyeball thing. What better way to cheer myself up than a night with shiny balls and wine?
3. Tomorrow starts the Christmas play-now I am 100% in the spirit!

It's nothing spectacular and all the ornaments are store bought because of, well, you know...the flood. But, it's mine and it smells DIVINE!!!! (Don't you just LOVE, LOVE, LOVE how wonderful a fresh real tree makes your house smell? It's fantabulous!)

I also found this card that a friend of mine made for me last year from my puppy. I no longer own him, but look at how ugly he was! He's so ugly he's cute. Those wrinkles get me every time. No jokes please, yes, he's the one on the left.

Think of me tonight-I'll be performing 18 times (Yikes!) from 6pm-10pm! And also, check out this fun Snow Globe. Or should I be PC and say "Frozen precipitation enclosed in a spherical or bowl-like container"? (It's better with your sound on)

Friday, December 02, 2005

To The "Bloggers" Of The World

Dear lazy or uninspired Blogger:

I know what it's like to be busy-to be too busy to even think about doing stuff that is fun, or not essential to your life. I can relate to waking up and not stopping until you fall into bed 17 or 18 hours later. Really.

But, for God's sake, if you have a blog, please update it somewhat regularly.

I understand that sometimes you think you just don't have anything to say. (Which I find doubtful-because the very fact that you even have a blog means you either talk alot in real life and needed to reach more people or you don't talk a lot and needed somewhere to vent/spill.)
But to all of you who clog the internet with blogs that haven't been updated since 2004....please delete them. The fact that your outdated blog is still up is a sign of laziness-not a sign of an uninspired segment of your life. And really, I hate stumbling upon a fantastic blog only to see that the last post was in April of 2002. The only reason that should still be up is if you got mauled by an angry bear and no longer A: are living or B: have hands.

My blog? Inferior to most. But at least I keep it updated. And if there comes a time when I can not or do not want to update it reguarly, I will pull the plug and make the decision final.

I hate indecisiveness and lack of follow through/commitment.

Fashion Ugg

I don't get the concept of gauchos. They look like a skirt...but they're really pants...they're capri-length...but weird and baggy...they are so not flattering that I have to stop and stare whenever I see someone trying to wear them.

And I'm assuming that when gauchos are worn with Ugg boots, it's in the hopes that one nasty disgusting trend plus one hideous trend would equal a good look. (Gah! + Gah! = OoohAaah)

Um, I don't know how to break this to you...but it didn't work.

Thursday, December 01, 2005


So. For those of you who care and even those of you who don't...

My eye hurts.

Why you ask?

Because of a little thing called a Corneal Ulcer.

If you think it sounds gross, you should feel it. It's not pretty.

House Broken: Part 7

“So, have you figured it out yet? We’re in Sarasota. The beach!”

She laughed. “Yes, I figured it out. Is this the surprise? We’re going to the beach?”

“Yes, but not just any beach, this is the beach I grew up on. My parents own that condo up there and I’ve come here every year for as long as I can remember. I thought you’d like to see it. And, you haven’t seen water this blue, I am sure.”

“I’m honored to be here in your presence, on your beach, on this very day. Thank you.” She playfully said in an official sounding voice.

“Let’s go.” He said, and jumped out of the car.

They took off their shoes and ran to the sand. It was pure white, and softer than any sand her feet had ever touched. Being October, there was hardly anyone there, and it seemed as though they were the only two people in the entire world. The water was, in fact, the bluest she’d ever seen; a beautiful hue of turquoise mixed with navy and capped with marshmallow white waves. The day was warm, but windy and the sky was crystal clear.

“You picked a perfect day for this. Thank you.” She said, and kissed him on the cheek.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and they hugged for a moment before continuing along the sand.

Later, she would remember their time on the beach with fondness- remembering the pride she saw in his eyes when he shared a part of his life with her. She’d remember how they sat in the sand, not caring about getting dirty, searching the waves for clues to their future, following the seagulls to their unknown destinations and knowing the only certainty they had in their relationship was that she was leaving in just two more months.

“Thank you.” She whispered, as they watched the sun retire in its pink and orange splendor.

“Thank you.”

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

One of THOSE Days

I need a hug.

Capture Your Spark

Do you know what it means to touch someone’s life? Do you believe that it can be done in 30 minutes? What about 5 minutes or even 60 seconds?

I do. I believe that everyone has the ability to touch a life no matter who you are or what your social status. It does not matter what degree you hold, or how much money you make; it does not even matter if you have friends or if you are a loner.

What matters is that you are you.

Somebody, somewhere will be searching-sometimes unknowingly-for the one piece of “youness” that stands out from the rest. It may be the “sign” they’ve been waiting for or simply an affirmation that people are still inherently good. It may even be as insignificant as wearing your hair a certain way, or the color it reflects in their eyes.

But they will remember.

And you may never know.

And that is okay.

We all have the ability to change a life, to alter a path, or create a memory. In a moment of clarity, I realized that not everyone believes this. It came to me in a wrap-up session after my dress rehearsal on Monday. There are 2 directors: a ‘Head’ Director and an ‘Artistic’ Director.

The head director is spunky and theatrical and her ideas always make sense-they always make the scene ‘fit’ better than they did before. I enjoy her input and am grateful for the coaching she provides.

The artistic director is witty and funny and charming. He inspires me to live.

The difference between these two people is this: The HD believes people can change lives. The AD knows what it feels like to do so.

I am having trouble communicating to you the feeling we all get when we listen to the AD, but I can tell you that people forget to breath. And it is not because what he is saying is life altering or he's revealing the formula for a secret healing potion for cancer-it is simply because he has learned how to capture and contain the spark that occurs when you make magic for someone.

I’d forgotten that I know how to do that. It’s been a long, long time since I stocked a hotel room with baby food or sprinkled pixie dust from an elevator to a little girls villa. And I am grateful to the AD for reminding me that I do not have to be at Walt Disney World in order to capture my spark.

Thank you AD. The twinkle I saw in your eyes on Monday gave me goose bumps. I hope you caught that spark.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005


Pedro and I often chuckle when I look at my blog stats to see who's read my blog. And it's not because I use the term, "Stat Whore" (though I think that did make him laugh) but because of some of the "Visitor Paths" people take to get to this little old blog.

This post in particular is one that gets a lot of activity. It's the name, I'm sure. I see a lot of Google searches for "Hairy Carey" and also for "Plucking".

This post also gets a lot of traffic. Some are searching for "Tourettes" but scary enough, alot of people search for "Hairy Nipples". Too many, in fact. But hey, if it gets 'em here, WHATEVER!

Other things that have gotten people here: Teen Flirting and Picking Your Nose.

Lovely. Rack 'em in boyz...rack 'em in...

Lunchical Lyrics

Have you ever had a stye
in the green of your eye?
I have, I do,
and it feels like poo.
Have you ever seen a guy
drive with his truck open to the sky?
I did, he stopped
and I wished I was a cop.
Do you like olives
and fresh mutsadell?
I do, they're good
and I think that you should.
Have you ever had something
stolen from your car?
I did, they're dead
and it's because they took my Mickey head.
Do you ever make up rhymes
just because you can?
I do, they're fun
and now it's time to run!

Toosdae ?'s

Hi Toosdae Lovers! Can you believe it's almost December already? (That's not one of the questions) Here yago:

1. Who is the freakiest/weirdest person you've ever met and why did they win that title?

2. How far would you go in order to fight for a parking space? Would you not fight at all, would you edge your car aggressively into the space or would you get into a yelling match?

3. What is the worst gift you have ever received?

1. The freakiest person I ever met was named Shad. I was actually warned about him by my trainer before I met him. He said, "Have you met Scary Shad yet?" Shad was tall, skinny and voluntarily bald. He rarely spoke and kept to himself but always had shifty eyes. One day he and I were alone in the back office of the hotel and he said, "Have you ever thought about how you'd like to die?" I don't remember my response, but I do remember dropping all of my uncounted money into my deposit bag and running (literally) out of the office. On an interesting side note, Scary Shad, let's say, used to *know* Goofy well.

2. I would typically not fight at all. I'd just mutter something like, "What the fuck jerk?! Are you kidding me?!?" and then pull away, though I'd secretly like to ram their car with mine.

3. The worst gift I ever received was from my mother on Christmas of 1997. I lived in Florida and I always noted how hot and sticky it was, even in December. To my dismay, when I opened the gift, it was a midnight blue velour turtleneck dress a la 1985. I don't know what she was thinking-oh yes I do-it was a free gift with purchase...for a gift she got SOMEONE ELSE! I couldn't even return it. I think my roommates and I used it for a rag.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Mags and the Magic Pajamas

I've got magic pajamas.

Yup. I know, you're jealous. And so you should be. They are simply fabulous. Not since the days of my footie pajamas have I been so enthralled with dressing for bed.

And I'm not exaggerating, either.

What makes them magic, you wonder? Well...the 3 times I've worn them I've gotten an incredible night's sleep.(Which is not always the norm) They are warm, but not too warm, and soft, but not slippery so I slide in the sheets. I'll have you know that these are two very important factors when discussing pajama qualifications in the pajama selection process.

There's a strong possibility that these magical pj's of mine also scare away evil dreams and fill my brain with love stories in which a handsome boy shows up at my door in the rain with a bouquet of my favorite flowers. When I open the door he whispers simply, "I love you" and we kiss and live happily ever after. (Of course I get him out of his wet clothes...I wouldn't just leave my poor baby in wet, cold clothes!)

Yup. These pajamas are wonderful.

They are black with a pink silky ribbon weaved into a lace "V" neck top.
This may or may not have anything to do with their magical powers, but I just thought you should know that they are, in fact, nothing special to look at, but I do believe that in their plainness, lies their magical powers.

The simple things people...always remember that it's the simple things.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Christmas Hair

Tomorrow is dress rehearsal for the play, and I finally figured out how to do my hair! AND I can do it all by myself...Ladies and Gents, take a look at Mrs. Nicholas's 1876 Christmas Eve hair:

Course, after I took it all out, I looked like I had 80's hair!

If only I had the Aqua Net-those bangs would have been smokin'!

Price Check On Isle 5!!!

My house looks like Christmas threw up in it. Today I was on a recovery mission. The great flood of 2005 damaged most of my Christmas decorations including a handmade angel I received as a wedding present, several handmade/friend made ornaments, 3 sets of lights, several in-house decorations and my stocking. Luckily my Disney ornaments and my stocking hanger from my childhood are fine.

What that means, is that today I had to take stock of what I did manage to save, and had to truck out to the store to buy new Christmas stuff.

What a cluster, I'll tell ya.

I went to Walmart-my least favorite store-because they always have cheap bulbs and lights. I wore jeans, my Westfield State sweatshirt, sneakers and a blue fleece hooded vest.

People kept asking me for help.

"Where are the gift tags?"
"Do you know where the ornament hangers are?"
"I'm looking for a tree stand, any idea where I can find one?"

It was only after the tree stand guy gave me a dirty look when I said:
"Um...I think they're over there, but I'm not sure..." did I realize that they all thought I worked there.

Because of my blue fleece hooded vest.

That is the very same color as a Walmart employee's smock.

And from behind, it's very confusing to stupid people.

There was a fourth man who started to ask me a question, but quickly realized I did not work there and stopped. He was amused at himself for making the mistake and this, in turn, amused me. So I helped him find what he was looking for. A little weird, but quite fun.

I did not end up getting my tree as planned because the store was so crazy busy that it was well past dark and though last year I was interested in doing it all myself, this year I am smarter and am going to solicit help. Ah weekend is just fine.

Saturday, November 26, 2005


It's official: I've been proposed to.
Read this post by Hamel.
Go on...I'll wait....No, really, you have to read it, otherwise this post will mean nothing. (He's really nice, he won't bite...g'head)

Back? Ok. Good. You may now proceed.


On behalf of, well, myself...I would like to officially accept this award with great honor and a great big "You-Picked-Me?" smile.

I welcome the responsibility of a post wife-leaving first date* but only because Hamel stated "I'll pay for the date (and the sitter), and she can pick what we do, from start to finish."**
Why, you ask, am I accepting this award? Well, kids, it's simple, really.

1. He's built in a "you can get engaged or fall in love" factor, which allows me to still pursue cute boys and hope for my "true love" moment. So, really, I have nothing to lose by saying yes.

2. He likes my bangs. I mean, C'mon-it's not often boys actually tell you what they like about you-but to have him like something as obscure like my bangs...he must really be sweet on me.

3. He says I rule. Anytime a man says, "You rule" ladies, you should run with it. This is a rarity, and should be taken advantage of.

4. I've always been a sucker for .50 cent rings-yes, Hamel, you'd have to splurge. I'm not a cheap whore, you know...I'm worth it.

5. The whole "backwards hat" thing. Any boy who promises to wear his hat backwards for me just because he knows I like it? OK IN MY BOOK. Especially when he says he'd wear it during my every waking moment. Course, he could get sick of that and slip me some Tylenol PM or something-I've gotta make a note of that.

6. He's a kind, generous man who has a passion for life. He loves his wife and children very much. What more can a PSWOH (Potential Second Wife of Hamel) award winner ask for?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to the grocery store to browse the frozen turkey section for that beefcake that Hamel referred to...

*God Forbid
**Someone is chuckling about that last part right now-do you know who you are?