Saturday, September 24, 2005

Bubble Gum Dreams

After 4 glasses of red wine, a fabulous gourmet dinner and several loud let-it-all-out laughs, it is time to go to bed. I, of course, can't sleep and so I'm sitting here in my 12 year old cousins room, trying to stop the spins and thinking about various things in my life.

My cousin is a boy, 12, like I mentioned, and sort of shy. His room is immaculate. I don't know if it's clean and organized because they knew we were coming or not, but I can say that I honestly don't think that's the case. It's a deep powdery blue with red tab top curtains, large oak colored furniture and a silver TV. He has a new age type CD player, also silver and an electric guitar, red, in the corner. Over his bed is a NY Yankees pennant. (I'm in NY aferall-though his brother, my favorite boy cousin, is a Sox fan)

(I did just look down on the floor after that last paragraph to think and saw a pair of boxers on the floor. That's a little more normal)

What I'm finding is that both this boy and his room seem to be extraordinarily sweet and innocent. Everything is in order. Even his towel is hung on the door on a specific hook. It's amazing how orderly this room is. My favorite thing about this room though, is in the corner of his desk, almost so you can't see it is a picture of himself when he was little-maybe 5 or so, all scrunched up in a ball sleeping on a sidewalk or something-like he was waiting for a parade and couldn't wait. Right next to it is a picture of his mom and dad smiling and laughing with their faces close-the pose couples often choose when asked to take a picture.

It's very refreshing to me to see these things in a 12 year old boys room.

He also has gum balls and index cards with "Becoming a state in the United States" written in little boy writing on them and a box of Jelly Belly Jelly Beans. He apparently likes dogs and cars (something I didn't know) because he has some chachkas on the top shelf of his desk. My foot just touched a well-loved 5lb weight resting peacefully under his desk, and to my sheer delight, there are still stuffed animals hiding in the secret recesses of his room.

When will this end? When will this innocence that he still possesses be snatched away by people who want him to forget the taste of jelly beans and bubble gum? When will his 5lb weight be not enough and when will someone offer him drugs to enhance his performance? When will his best stuffed animal find itself stuffed into a box and stored away in the attic, stifled by the heat and the knowledge that youth has been stolen from his owner?

I hope the answer is never. I hope that he learns that being a grown up doesn't mean forgetting the taste of jelly beans or the feeling you get when you hug your best stuffed animal. I hope he remembers that although it takes time, lifting a weight is better than lifting a pill and that being able to blow the biggest bubble will still be cool to the right people.

I hope he remembers to laugh, and hope he can hold onto the curiosity in his heart, the spark of youth and adventure in his eyes.

I hope he remembers this room, and when life starts to hand him adulthood, he remembers that it doesn't mean he has to forget his youth.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Invisible and Sexy

I've mentioned it before-sometimes I feel like I'm not a memorable person. I get coffee at the same location almost every morning and have for about 3 years but they always have to ask me what I want but also always know what they other regulars want.

Today I felt invisible. I went to a different Duncan Donuts today, so I didn't expect them to remember me from 2 or 3 times I've been there. What I did expect though, is that they would at least serve me correctly.

When I got to the counter I ordered an egg and cheese on a croissant and an iced coffee with cream and sugar. While I was ordering, the lady who was taking the order looked at the man behind me and yelled his order to the person making the stuff. Now, my order was not yet even punched in, but I have already spoken the words to her. So I already knew that the guy behind me was going to get his stuff at the counter before me. Mad.

She had to ask me again what I wanted. I reiterated it and waited while she laughed-again with the guy behind me-and then I paid. She didn't say thank you, didn't say anything. In fact, she gave him HIS coffee before mine. When I didn't leave the counter she finally said that my sandwich would be at the other end. I had to ask for my coffee.

THEN-when I got to the end of the counter-HIS SANDWICH WAS WAITING FOR ME. UGH!!!! (He ordered a sausage, egg and cheese on a cinnamon raisin bagel. Gross)

My mom, although she's a crazy bitch, raised me right. I always say please and thank you and am always overly nice to service people. It's sad, but I think I have to start being a little more edgy and aggressive in order to be remembered. (Why don't they remember nice people?)

Does anyone else have this problem? Please tell me you do, because I'm about to start wondering why I'm not important enough of a person to be remembered.

On another topic totally not related at all-the other day a local radio station talked about women wearing sexy underwear on an ordinary day to make them feel sexy. I think the overall consensus was that although this sometimes happens, we don't put it on specifically to make ourselves feel sexy.

Today I have on what I would call sexy underwear. They are under jeans, my hair is in a ponytail and I have on a navy fleece zip up. (It's cold in the office) I do not feel sexy.

This could be though, because I have on my silly socks. They could be zeroing each other out.


This post is going to make me seem really shallow and bitchy. I guess I'm ok with that because I know it's not entirely true, and also, I know that you all have thought this at some point or another.

Have you ever been talking to (in the dating sense) someone who's not particularly-let's say, good looking? And you totally know that you are, although not God's gift to the world, better looking than they are? And then they let you know they are not interested and you're like:

"Dude, you should really think twice about that decision."

One of my friends recently started online dating and knowing I've done it, asked my advice/opinion. She's been talking to one man in particular who she was really sort of excited about, but they didn't yet exchange pictures. Finally she convinced him to swap photos only to see he was a total hag and quite frankly, heinous. She, on the other hand, is quite pretty-and I'm not just saying that because she's my friend.

After sending him a picture of herself, he immediatly wrote to her and told her that he was no longer interested because there was no attraction.

And yup, I get it-either your attracted or not. It's an electricity between 2 people and sometimes it exists and other times it doesn't. It's why people are either friends or lovers and it's what ultimately differentiates the two.

But this guy called it off just because of her photo. And, let me remind you-he's a hag. (Ok, that's harsh, but he's pretty fugly, complete with a snaggle tooth and all) She, incidentally, didn't think he was "that bad...maybe a little hairy, but you can shave that" (Gag)

So here's my question-do you think maybe he was truly turned off by her pretty face, gleaming white teeth and big blue eyes? (I think she should have done a profile to show off her larger than average boobs-I think geeks like that) or do you think maybe he was intimidated? Because they are clearly in different classes-superficially speaking.

I told her to tell him exactly what I said earlier-that she thinks he should reconsider this decision because he cant' be sure when the next opportunity will present itself.

Poor pretty lady...she'll never get the chance to find out if Quasimoto is really her Prince Charming...

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Birthday Laughter

Today is Matt's birthday, (Matt=ex-husband) and this year I am finding it harder and harder to hate him. I know that's a good thing, because it means I'm healing & have given forgiveness that I hadn't before. I find it funny when I talk to people about him they are taken aback when I say nice things. And I would be shocked too.

Except, it's me we're talking about here. I'm not normal.

The other day I was talking about Jamie and mentioned that I still have a few cards that he gave me to remember the good side of him. Mr. CM (Yes, I know, but let's face it, the name fits and now I can't think of another blog name for him. Deal) was sort of surprised.

The truth is, people who are bad sometimes do good things. And regardless of whether or not they had ulterior motives or not, it made you feel good. Regardless of whether or not their feelings weren't true, yours were. Even if I was given an elephant card as a bribe, the card was chosen because he knew I loved elephants, and he knew it would make me smile. And it did. That was real. I smiled and felt happy that he at least knew that much.

I suppose it is strange (or at least out of the ordinary) that I do this-that I pull out good memories of the people who flooded my heart with bad. But I know that today I still laugh when I hear "Mr. Robato" and the silly dance Matt made up to go along with it. And when I think about the time Matt inadvertently video taped his penis because he didn't know how to turn off the camera and then ended up showing the video to his male friends on his dad's huganic TV set-I almost double over in tears. I can still hear Nelson saying, "Oh, A-get that off the screen!!!!!!! What were you doing?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!" in his fantastic Puerto Rican accent.

So on this day, I say "I forgive you" and thank you for making me laugh and for teaching me that even if I cry, my smile will always come back.

Oh, and Happy Birthday.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

There're Ponies To Be A Pullin'


There's nothing like a good story about a Pony Pull to liven up an evening...and when someone claims they "could just watch someone pulling a pony forever" well, it's just darn funny. (Who brought the closet porn addict?) I think this also calls for a blow on ye olde horn.

Thanks for a hilariously funny night-it was WAY better than any diner in CT.


Leave it to those crazy Dutch people. The toilets in one Amsterdam airport have fake flies tattooed into the urinals. Why, you ask? It's to reduce the spillage-or shall I say the splatterage. Having a target apparently reduces about 80% of said splatterage.

C'mon? Really? I understand some people are just naturally more coordinated than others-but is it really that hard? And I also understand that sometimes, you just can't control where it goes. (Ever try peeing while squatting in the middle of the Mojave dessert? Not good) And also, I guess the taller you are, the harder it is to go the distance...but men, c'mon? Do you really need a target? Or is there some weird man pee fantasy in which you just like peeing on stuff?

And the choice to use a fly of all things is nasty-why not just use? Hmmm, I dunno, a target? (Or a ganja leaf-you know, 'cause they're in Amsterdam)

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Elaborate Please-Lunchtime Blahs

How many pair of underwear do you own? And why do they say, "Pair of underwear" when there's only 1? If I own 20 individual underwears, do I have 10 pair? I own a lot of underwear. I recently did laundry and put away 20 pair and there were more in there that were clean. Excessive? Maybe a little, but when I travel I usually bring along extra just in case, though I'm not sure what kind of horrible event would make me change my undies everyday.
I've always wanted to take a delicate wine glass or champagne flute by the stem and smash the bulb on the edge of a marble counter top. Does anyone else want to smash something? Just once?

I've also always wanted to smash a pie or a cake into someone's face. Now this is somewhat of a sin to me, being the cake girl, but just imagine how great it would feel! The smoosh alone would be worth it.

Have you ever stuck your finger in a big bowl of jello? Isn't that sucking sound awesome when you take it out?

AM or PM? (Or sunrise, sunset-here come the Jewish readers)
PM/Sunset unless it's talking to someone interesting until AM/Sunrise, then it's both.
Do you belong in the "I have to shove as much pudding into my mouth as I can" club? If so, what flavor? Yes, I do and it's rice puddin.

Hard or soft? (Here come the porn lookers)
Mostly soft, but sometimes hard. You know, when the mood is right.
Give or receive?
Give. Unless I'm over powered and then receiving is super sexy.

Vague questions. Creative answers?

*This is an update from the original post, as are all of my answers, which didn't first appear*
Or how about no answers? Yeah, that works too. Blah!
I didn't want to answer these because I thought it would be interesting to see what everyone else chose out of the air. Oh well, I suppose you all did wonderfully last week. I still love you.

I Spy?

I'm pretty sure I always wanted to be a detective. For as long as I can remember, I've been intrigued with deviance and the people who walk the line of danger. I've always been enthralled with solving the puzzles and finding the bad guy.

I remember when I lived in NY I was shopping at Macy's with my Aunt. While in the dressing room, someone's purse was stolen. I was little, maybe 4 or 5 at most but I remember standing by my Aunt when the police were asking her questions.

"Did you see anything?" and "Did you happen to look at the time when you heard the commotion?"

My Aunt, who was still a young teenager herself, didn't see anything. They were about to move on when I said, "She had brown hair." The cop, I remember, chuckled and bent down to me and said, "Oh yeah Sherlock? You saw her hair?" I didn't know who Sherlock was, but I knew I did, in fact, see the ladies hair.

"Yeah, it was brown and it was this long." I pointed to the middle of my Aunts back. That night at dinner, my Papa teased me, but in a proud way. I felt like a hero, even though the ladies' purse was never recovered.

In CT, my cousin and I would round up the other kids in the neighborhood and play in the woods behind her house. We lived right on the CT River, and so it became the backdrop of our childhood. Trail after trail we scoured the valley for clues-to what I do still do not know. We'd track footprints for hours, mapping out which trails we already analyzed and which ones we needed to pursue. We even spied on a few patrons of the park-but only the shady ones. Once we even "discovered" a biker/murderer right here in our tiny town. He turned out to be a priest. 8-)

I should have looked upon that misjudgment as a sign of my inadequacies as a mystery solver. I should have known that deep down, I'm a coward and I wouldn't be able to hold my own when push comes to shove. Sure, I have a creative mind and it sometimes allows me to see things in a different light, but when faced with danger-I panic.

Case in point: "My evidence." What you should be seeing is a Waco-like compound/house set off of the road. It will have 10-15 "No trespassing" signs, a few "Beware Of Dog" signs and empty (or filled with dead bodies) oil barrels blocking the driveway. There is also a skeleton of some dead animal nailed to the most prominent tree as a warning to those who dare pass. The gravel driveway is ripped up with large divots, making it nearly impossible to drive over. The yard is riddled with old pickups, motors and outboards-all of which seem to be over 20 years old.

What you got: A picture of my leg as I drove by because the owner of the house came out after I pulled away. (OK-what you really get is nothing. N-o-t-h-i-n-g, nothing. Why? B/c the photo won't upload. Stupid slow computer. Possible update later) Carry on. Never mind-got it! Carry on-again...

It was a total balk. I'm so ashamed. Sherlock, ladies and gentlemen, is dead...Honey Buns Taste Yummy....

Monday, September 19, 2005


*Hot Boy Alert*Hot Boy Alert*Hot Boy Alert*
*Hot Boy Alert*

Do you see his lips? YUMMY! Don't ya just want to bit the bottom one? Just watching him makes me bite mine! And then, look at his cute little freckle on his temple. Scrumptious. Simply, scrumptious.
It's like a special little "kiss me here" target.
He's got pretty killer eyes too.
Oh-the show? It's pretty good too.

Things That Made Me Smile

Things that made my sketchy smile come back today, even with the doldrums...

*Being told by several different people "You look cute today", "You look kinda cool today", "You look cool today" and "I like your outfit, it looks good on you". It's always nice to get a compliment, but when you get 5 or 6, it's phenomenal.

*Having a friend who also knows it's National Talk Like a Pirate Day, and having him call me to actually talk like a pirate. On a side note, I think I should take an impromptu trip to my favorite place to ride Pirates.

*The fact that I just wrote "to ride pirates" making me sound like some sort of slut. I mean, don't get me wrong, there are a few hot guys who work the attraction, but I wouldn't fly down there just to ride them. What kind of girl do you think I am?

*Hearing someone say, "I need you" made me feel happy. Not because they were sad and not feeling good, but because it made me realize that even if I'm not feeling good, there are still people in my life who want and need me in theirs. It's always nice to be needed.

*I stuck to my diet today. The last time I dieted I lost 45 lbs without exercising at all. I gained about 1/2 of it back in the last year and am happy to say that I am now adding exercise. This hopefully means I'll be hot again soon, and flocks of boys will want and need me. 8-)

*I saw my breath this morning when I walked to my car. This is wonderful because it means sweater weather is around the corner. And that means nothing but good times from October 1st to January!

*The fact that my boss and I have a good relationship so I can be silly and sarcastic with him. I like that I was able to say, "Oh...that's too bad. So she didn't wait for you?" when he commented on an ex-girlfriend's name change.

*I like that a random stranger (ok, not so random-our UPS guy) ragged on someone I don't particularly like because they don't work. He said, "...and the guy in there is clipping his nails. I didn't want to interrupt that!".

*I figured out what the random post it notes were on my desk. After a long hectic week of being out of the office, I randomly posted reminders to myself on my computer screen, only to confuse myself because they were just jots....12969, 21542, "A Lot Less", "Look up for Todd". Luckily as I worked thru the morning, each note became obvious. Now the only post it I have stuck to my desk is the note from Judy telling me a customer invited me to go to Italy with him.

*My basement did not flood during this weekend's rain storms.

*There is a small chance I might get to go to Florida in October! It's very small chance, but can you imagine how incredibility happy this will make me? I may just stay there forever if I go, so maybe it's not a good thing...(HOLY COW! I'M ALMOST SO EXCITED!)

*I saw the most beautiful sunset today driving through the city. The sun was enormous and peachy orange and so intense it made my eyes water. Enveloping the sun were translucent rays of light in all different shades of purple. It was magnificent. The sun's reflection on the buildings was also breathtaking.

So it appears that although I think I am in the dumps, I did laugh and smile a lot today. It's wonderful.

Now hopefully I can go back to entertaining you.


This is me according to some silly blog test thing:

At Your Highest:You are engrossed in passions that mentally stimulate you.
Well, yeah. Duh. That's why they are passions silly blog thing.
At Your Lowest:You seek thrills and neglect what's important in your life.
Seek thrills? Well, I guess. I like adventure, but thrills? I dunno. And the things I tend to neglect are the things I know will still be here...grass, dishes, laundry-and I neglect those for people. Because they are the important things. In Love:You see dating as adventure and approach it with an open attitude.
I guess. I am usually pretty open to whatever happens, though really, I'm not. I hate dating, as discussed before, and am hoping to find the person who will take me on my last first date very soon. I don't necessarily want to get married right now, but having someone I'm comfortable with and vise versa and who I make laugh and who makes me laugh and makes me happy when I'm sad and someone to cuddle with and to hug and kiss and to play with-that would be stellar.
How You're Attractive:Your passion for life makes others passionate about you.
Ok. I can't comment on this because no one is currently passionate about me that I know of. And, if you are, please email me. 8-)
Your Eternal Question:"Am I Having Fun?"
I don't think I've ever said this. And I usually have fun doing almost anything if I'm with the right person. So I think the better eternal question should be: Are you cool enough to hang with me? he he he...

Sorry for the lame-o post, but I think I'm in a rut. Lately nothing really excites me, nothing makes me really smile and I'm bored with everything. TV, movies, books, blogs, music, even shopping. I can't seem to get excited about anything and I have a list of things I need to do but no ambition to do them. I'm secretly worried that all of the stress and should-be depression from last year and the year before are catching up with me.

I find myself looking for things to do, things to read, inspirational sayings and success stories to bulk up my happy side before it's depleted, but it doesn't seem to be working. I can't sleep and once I do sleep I can't wake up.

So what am I going to do? Go through the motions I suppose, but while doing that, I'm going to commit to going back to the gym. I know Judy, I did that 2 weeks ago and didn't go. But, I am now ready again. My bag's packed, my IPod is charged and loaded with songs (which of course, I hate at the moment) and my sneakers are by the door. I also packed a lunch, ensuring I stick to my low carb diet.
Elle was right, endorphins do make people happy. I just hope this works. I don't like the doldrums.

Besides, I have too nice of a smile to be frowning.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Love and Baseball

Most people, I would have to say, never truly experience the giving and receiving of unconditional love. Usually one person loves another unconditionally, but the other does not reciprocate-they may love that person back, but deep down (or sometimes not) they have a sentence in their head such as, "If he ever did *insert heinous crime of your choice* I would leave him."

Sometimes, 1 person has love to give another but is unable to because the feelings are not mutual and other times, the love is from a mother to her child, but the child is too young to realize that not getting macaroni and cheese for lunch does not give them the right to hate their mommy.

Although I love many people, I can honestly say that each person could do something to persuade me to hate them. No, I don't have a list of things they could do to push me over the edge, though actually pushing me off a ledge, besides possibly killing me, may also make me hate them.

The other night at dinner I realized that I do love one person unconditionally. My niece. Several weeks ago my family, who are all Yankee fans, and I who am a Red Sox fan, went to see a Yankees game. My niece, who is very animated wore her little red Yankees cap and clapped almost the whole time while chanting the "Let's go Yaankeees...Let's go Yaankeees!" cheer.

Ok. It was cute.

A week later I was on the phone with my sister and mid-sentence she said, "Hold on, I think something's wrong with Rye Bread" When she came back, she was laughing. "What happened?" I asked. "You don't wanna know." she told me. "Spill it. What happened?" "Dad's watching the Yankees game and she wanted me to watch it with her."

UGH. This is bad. Very, very bad. I love that Rye Bread loves baseball at this early of an age. I love that I am pretty sure I'll get to play catch with her and I also think I can have her follow in my footsteps and she'll play softball. But the Yankees?! UGH!

So, even a week later, on the way to NY to visit family Rye Bread and I played in the car. She was using my IPod and "Catch My Disease" came on-a song which starts with clapping. She violently ripped the ear buds away from her face and exclaimed "IT'S THE YAAANKEESS MOMMY!"

When, you ask, did I realize that it was unconditional love?? It was the other night at dinner. My sisters and I were in the middle of a conversation when we heard Rye Bread singing quietly. "What are you singing Rye Bread?" We asked. Course, she's in the "I'm too cool to talk to you" stage so she ignored us, but she did raise her voice a bit so we could hear her little perfect voice singing: "Let's go Yaankees-Let's go Yaankees!" And I couldn't help but look at her and bubble over with pride.

I'm pretty sure the part where it's not reciprocated will come in a few years once she realizes I dislike her team....but for now...we're pals.