A Damn Good Life

Recent Months in Pictures...
and then a story to lift your spirits, and your attitude :)



My babies
Easter 2010
(Thanks to Jennifer Tackett of www.photoreflect.com. Jennifer and her beau do BEAUTIFUL work!)

My sweetheart
Dan & I, March 2010
Memphis, TN

Our Sasha
(who I have to post an old picture of, because as of late, she's just a bitch:)

Dan's Kitty, Prowler
One of the most affectionate cats I've ever had the pleasure of knowing... and loving (just don't tell Dan;).

My new do.
Just because there always has to be a self-centered picture of me on my blog entries :P

This is what my desk looks like on a frazzled day :)

At work we host an activity we call "Remember When..." It's a group of folks who are alert & oriented, and some not-so-much, reminiscing about their childhood, school days, pets who have warmed and broken their hearts, the love of their lives, and so on... I love this activity because, although a resident may not know today's date or what he ate for breakfast that morning, he remembers "Esther", stares into the air lovingly and daydreams about their days together, rattling off nicknames and memories... walks they took together, places they dined, picnics they went on, music they danced to... and on and on...

I found myself thinking today, not only of the memories we create every single day, but also how the rush of every day life can so simply smoothie itself into a blender of chaos... all of the potential memories can so easily be lost among bills, chores, events we just couldn't say no to (even though we desperately wanted to) and burying ourselves in our work, whether it be at home or in an office.

I wonder if when our generation is in our 70s and 80s, will we "Remember When..."? Will we be able to see the face of the person we deeply loved, with closed eyes, and remember the sweet memories we created (or should have created) together? Will we be able to remember our girls' nights out, or what an impact our children, pets, friends and coworkers had on our lives. Will we have had an impact on theirs?

It's a sad truth that so many people enter work before dawn and leave long after the sun has said goodnight... that people dream of being someone they're not, spend their whole life living up to a standard they will never reach, when all the while, they could have been molding themselves into an amazing individual... someone who would be remembered for their uniqueness... someone who made a mark in history... even if it was just on the heart of one person.... someone who made beautiful memories.

I've learned in recent months to enjoy the small things, and I'm learning not to worry so much about the craziness of life which simply can't be controlled. I have learned to hold my babies, Dan and the kitties tight, take the time to snuggle and listen, enjoy the present, and know that we are all making beautiful memories to share in the future. I want to remember my life as it is... because it's a damn good life.

Happiness is...

Happy Tears

As many of you know, we are moving. The garage is packed with bunches and bunches of yard sale items, which will be traveling with us to our new home (bigger town... bigger yard sale turnout). We also have a crazy amount of trash bags filled with items not even a 1 cent price sticker would make someone feel guilty enough to buy, and we have been adding these into our regular trash pile on Tuesdays when those hulk-armed trash truck guys, bless their hearts, come to visit our curb.

So we have a big section of yard sale items, a bigger section of black plastic & a medium-sized "keep pile" filled with trinkets and necessities and impulse purchases we have learned to love, and can't part with.

This "keep pile" gets me into trouble. I reminisce. I sit and look at old purchases and get weepy. The can is what REALLY gets me in trouble. No, I'm not talking about the commode, though that subject has ventured to the surface quiet frequently in my blog-life. I'm talking about the photo can. You know those popcorn tins you can buy at Christmas for people you a) really don't like or b) have no idea what to buy, and don't feel like spending any real amount of your hard-earned money on? Well, we have one of those tins, popcornless and full of old pictures.

I can't tell you how many times this week I have made excuses to go out to the garage. I go out there and pull up two of our extra-ugly old dining room chairs (yard sale pile, if you're interested). I use one chair to sit on, and one to pile photos on. They depress me.

I seriously used to be a bean pole... a tiny little thing with a nice rack (the rack remains), pretty blonde hair and a wardrobe I was proud of. Because face it, when you are a size small/medium, you can buy just about anything you dream of in the clearance section.

I felt truly depressed all day today. This should be one of the happiest times of my life. We are getting out of the renting cycle by buying our first real home, I'm going to Vegas in a couple of months with good friends, my babies are starting preschool and we survived a week of VBS, my husband is on day shift after many, many moons of thirds and on and on and on....

So why am I feeling so blue? I go through these phases. I suppose people who jump for joy at the mere glimpse of an oven mitt they haven't seen in ages, or an extra box of Christmas decorations they find in July, are gonna find a valley every now & then.

I decided to just let myself bask in my blues today... stay in my jammies, take a few naps, pack only when I wanted to pack and leave the mundane household crap to my husband. After all, every day isn't like this... but once in a while I think it's forgivable.

In all honesty, I would be happy to sit here & pinpoint my problems for the whole world (or at least my 35 loyal readers) to see, but I can't. I know the few problems I do have are nothing compared to the issues other folks are going through.

I'm going to post some of my pictures now... some of the photos that make me sad. It's my way of soaking it in, sucking it up and letting it go. Enjoy...

In Windsor, Canada... see Detroit?
This was my first real trip away from Joel after we got married.
I went with my friend Linda. We went to a strip club called "Danny's".
I'm still looking for the pic of me with my stripper.

This Santa was a perv, and I had bad hair... but I was happy...

What in the hell was I thinking?!?!?!



Teddy & I. I still miss Teddy... a lot.



This was me ready for my Junior Prom in my room at Mom & Dad's house.
My fascination with hot famous men started really young...
I loved this Prom dress.



Mom putting my veil on before the wedding.
CROCODILE TEARS..... Wahhhhhhhhhh!



Chris & I with our Cabbage Patch Kids.
I believe in the end, we probably all owned 25 Cabbage Patch Kids.



At my thinnest... a few years back.
Would ya believe I still thought I was fat?
Duh!



I thought I had a huge fat roll in this picture.
Double Duh!



On our honeymoon




Why didn't anyone tell me how terrible my hair was? :P




This was when I was running, doing the WW thing & in the best shape... oh, and orange from self-tanner :P



Joel with Teddy...
More sobs....... Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!




Fishing with Dad on vacation In PA.

I'm going to go burn the can now. Goodnight.

Enter with Caution... Tree Huggers Welcome

My life in cars...

Mom's 90's GrandAm... yep, I hit a pole with it.

My punishment for running into the pole. It backfired... I loved my little car!

Our current car... a Lumina from 1492.

But OUR tires are not as pretty as the one's above. See?


Our current van... a Chevy Venture... we still owe $100,000,000 on it! YAY!

My future car... a 1970 Volkswagon Convertible Beetle... in Pink!

My other future car... a red BMW... I may have to cut off my legs, but it will be worth it...

I'm a tree hugger.

I have hit many stationary objects in my driving life. In driving school, I was more interested in impressing my absolutely edible driving instructor than I was learning to actually... drive.

Somehow I made it through the class & then went on to take my driving test... 3 times. I did fabulously on the written exam, but guess what? The written exam doesn't mean a damn thing if you can't actually drive. I hit cones the first two times I attempted the driving course. The 3rd time I hit a cone, but it didn't actually fall over. It just weebled and wobbled without falling down. So the teacher, get this, passed me! Woot Woot!

Every time I failed that test was like a slap in the face. Mom took me to Delaware (the town in Ohio, not the state, although I thought about it) because we heard a nasty rumor that there was an evil instructor in Marion, our town. We drove home the first two times, the non-passing times, and I'd cry and cry... I was NEVER gonna be able to drive. Damn cones! They were way too damn close together! SUCKERS!

You have to know me to understand why me driving is such a fear to so many of my family members & friends... and sometimes even myself. I'm blind... honestly, I'm blind... did you know you can be blind and still be able to see? Basically, if you see really sucky and squint more than you don't to see perfectly normal-sized objects, you are blind... legally. If, like me, you can't see a damn thing at night, and even when you put your glasses on or contacts in, you're still squinting to see the golden arches 1/800th of a mile from McDonald's, you are positively blind.

Every time I go into the BMV to renew my license I get squirmy, sweaty, silly and stupid. Seriously! I take my number from the maddening little number-machine and sit there, in the presence of Marion folk talking about the current drugs they are taking and who their dealers are. It's always a lovely errand to run. When they do finally call my number, normally 6-8 hours later (okay, I'm exaggerating a bit, but it feels like it!), I walk a fake saunter up to the desk, my head held high, full of fake self-confidence & enthusiasm, smile sweetly and put my head up against that little machine... and GUESS! That's right, I can't see any of it, so I guess. I pray my 6th sense will kick in, and I'll recite the correct letters... or numbers... hell, I don't even know if they are numerical or alphabetical... I've never seen them. It's always the same story. The chick or dude looks at me blankly, and as if they don't know what in the hell to do with me, they just stamp me as 'daylight restricted' once again. Almost 14 years of daylight restrictions. Believe it or not, I'm quite okay with that. I realize how lucky I am to be able to drive at all. Although I am blind, I can see... sympathy vote? YEAH BABY! Driver's License? YEAH BABY! I shouldn't but I do! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah!

So the day I finally got my drivers license, I got home and my mom reluctantly let me drive over to La Rue, a little town about 15 minutes from our house. My little sister went with me. Looking back, I realize my mom must have prayed on her knees the entire time we were gone. I can't even imagine my kids driving. The mere thought of it makes me grip my chair in panic, and I hear that feeling won't ease up as they get older. They're never driving. I just decided that. :) Aw, I feel better.

So anyway, Tara and I were on our way to La Rue, windows rolled down, listening to "California Knows How to Party" by 2PAC. I thought I was extremely cool listening to that song over and over again in Mom's red GrandAm. That car was hot at the time... not hot as in stolen... hot as in HOT! Even though I couldn't see the boys I drove by, I liked to assume they were admiring my car, my music & my skills. I'll never know.

We got to La Rue, I pulled into the parking spot, and BAMALAMA BOOM BOOM, I hit a pole. Yep, head-on, ran right into a pole... first day I had my license. It cracked Mom's license plate cover. Accident number ONE. Luckily, probably because I'm blind, I didn't get grounded, chored to death or stood in a corner. I think I got the sympathy vote on that one. :P

Not long after the GrandAm incident, I came home from school to find a little grey Plymouth Horizon in the driveway. I believe it was a 1987 model... not new, but new to me and I LOVED IT! I had to push on the gas just the right way to get the car to start, and there were tricks to driving it, but to me, that was more special than driving a normal car. No one could just jump in my car & drive it! I was the only master! The master of the Horizon! Yeeeeehawwwwwww!

There have been several driving incidents over the years involving me and various cars. Over the past few years, I have hit more mailboxes than I care to admit. Oh, hell, I don't mind admitting it... I have hit an average of 10-15 mailboxes, some in succession. It's not that I don't drive with caution... I truly do... I use more caution than the average driver due to my lack of vision. I do, however, focus on not going left to center, which in turn makes me hit mailboxes. You see, it's really not my fault. If the lanes were wider, I'd be fine. The town of Prospect is a dangerous place... small lanes. They aren't even really lanes... they're tiny little tightropes, just begging for you to mess up and hit something.

That brings me to my next story, or confession if you prefer...

A few years ago, pre-babies and in my skinny-mini days, I led Weight Watchers meetings. That's right... I was a leader! Scary thought, eh? Anyway, one Monday night after our weekly meeting, I decided to pull left out of the Southland Mall (which is a beautiful mall by the way, if you ever decide to take a field trip to Marion :P). It was dark. There was snow... and no lines whatsoever on the road. Everything was snow-covered. I turned anyway, and got into what I thought was the turn lane. I looked behind my right shoulder to see if there were any cars coming, and while I was looking back to my right, I was veering to my left. I ran head-on into a mini van. I immediately felt terrible. The driver got out of the van... a chick around 30. She had a few kids in the van, and I soon found out she had no insurance and no driver's license. She was busted, and it was all my fault. It was very cold that night, and when the deputy got to the scene, he asked me to sit in his car. When he called in my driver's license, the dispatcher read off my information, and then added "DAYLIGHT RESTRICTED ONLY" in a stern tone. BUSTED! The cop didn't even know what to do with me. He said he didn't know what to charge me with, if anything. He told me he'd be at my house the next evening at 7pm. UGH! 24 hours to dwell on what was going to happen to me. I just knew I was gonna go to jail, get beat up cause the Marion hookers and druggies would think I was stuck-up and prissy, then be put on house arrest for the rest of my days on Earth... I scared myself half to death... then the cop got there.

Mr. Nice Cop didn't charge me, although after further investigation, he explained to me that my driving after dark is just like someone driving without a drivers license at all. The crime I committed was one step below a felony... the highest misdemeanor possible. I was a criminal! Fortunately I wasn't convicted. And I rarely drive after dark now. :P Just sometimes...

So, the freshest incident in my mind occurred this past Sunday. My husband was doing a little job at my boss's new house. Hubby & boss's hubby went to get a part at Sears, and I decided to take the kids to get pizza. Backing out of the long driveway was a challenge for me, as long driveways always are. I veered off the path twice and had to pull forward and re-group. After my second re-group, I started to back up. My backup assist started beeping really fast, and then WHAM BAM BADALADA BOOM BAH, I ran smack-dab into a tree. I'm a tree hugger. The kids thought this was incredibly funny, and begged me to do it again. . I was too anxious to get out of there! I was afraid my boss could hear the crash from the house. I didn't even care about the van... after all, it has a missing side mirror due to a prior mailbox jumping out at me and several scratches from my friends & I running into other cars, etc. Yeah, that's right, I tend to hang out with other crashers... and they're not even blind! :P

I did feel that I should call hubby after tree-hugging, so I did. The worst part of this whole situation? The guys had been talking about the possibility of me hitting that tree even before I hit the tree. Nice of them to tell me. :P Joel assured my boss's hubby that I had backup assist so I should be fine. See, normally backup assist starts beeping slowly, and the closer you get to the car, tree, person, curb, monkey, barn-yard animal etc, the faster it beeps. It failed me Sunday. SUCKER!

I've been pulled over various times. I've only had one speeding ticket, which a haggy female trooper on St. Rt. 23 gave me one time on my way to work in Columbus. She was out to get me. I wasn't going THAT fast... 15 over is nothin'! Joel has told me of crazies going over 100mph in a 55 zone. My speed seems quite normal compared to that. Jeez! ;)

One time I got pulled over coming home from Marysville. I was following the flow of traffic on Rt. 4, going nearly 70mph in a 55mph zone. A deputy passed our long line of cars coming from the opposite direction. I slowed down a bit, saw him pass and then inadvertently sped up again. He flipped on me, pulled me over and let the long line of speed offenders in front of me speed along their merry way. I pulled off onto a side road, as to save myself from the pure embarrassment of it all. As soon as I parked, pretty lights sparkling behind me, who do I see? My dad. Yep, Dad pulled right up to the stop sign I was sitting beside. Oh the horror! I cried and cried! The cop asked me what was wrong, as I had been acting perfectly normal, and then suddenly lashed out in convulsions and full-on crazy-woman-ness. He let me go.

This year on Easter I, once again, was going 70mph in a 55 zone. Joel was home sick with bronchitis, and I had never been pulled over since he became a cop, so I wasn't sure if the cop-wife-magic would really work for me or not. Aiden sat in the back yelling that he didn't like the policeman. I was horrified. The cop asked me for my license, title & proof of insurance. I had my license, but none of the paperwork he asked for was to be found. I spit out "man, my husband is a cop... you'd think we'd be better organized"... he let me go. :P

So, although I've had many bouts with cops, polls, cars & bark, and the vehicles I've driven have the torture marks to prove it, I'm still alive, believe it or not.

I'm thinking of getting a driver... any volunteers?

Water, Coffee Creamer, Baby Carrot, Parmesan, Chocolate Sundae Anyone?

I'm used to my heathens. Like all kids, my children throw tantrums (yeah, don't tell me yours don't), smile wickedly when one of the other children gets in trouble... and their favorite thing to do? Play with things that are off-limits.

When they were little, the babies would open a gift (well, actually, we would open it for them, because they were born with ADD), and play with the box and/or eat the wrapping paper. No! They didn't swallow it. Sheesh! Give me some credit here.. I just let them gnaw on it a little. But they have always been more amused with household objects and packaging than an actual toy. That's just how they are. Give them a cardboard box, and some bubble wrap, and they're occupied for hours on end!

So, today is the last day of my 9-day hiatus from work. I laid the kids down for their nap earlier, and rather than tweeting, facebooking or emailing, I decided just to take a nap. The house is pretty much clean, I had chatted the hell outta my facebook and twitter friends, consciously decided to not do the work I brought home 9 days ago, and allowed myself to just veg. Aww... the couch...

I fell asleep quickly and woke up, what seemed like minutes later (it was actually 2.5 hours later) to Aiden yelling at me. I wasn't comprehending what he was saying. I'm normally a light sleeper, so those damn children must have tip-toed and whispered to do the damage I was about to see..

I heard Aiden yell at Joel. See, Aiden calls Joel, well.. Joel. He doesn't call him Daddy anymore. We think it's funny so we don't correct him (yeah, feel free to comment on our parenting skills. I can take ya. ;) Anyway, I heard him yell, "Joel, you can sleep longer if you want to, but Logan made a HUGE MESS!", and then I heard a door slam. Aiden was furious! I started laughing. He sounded like a miniature version of his mother & father combined.

So, I finally comprehended the twins telling me that Logan had made a "huge mess". I stumbled out to the play room/sun porch and about died! Then I started laughing like a full-on lunatic! ALL, and I mean ALL of the condiments (and many other refrigerated items) were sitting there. On the backboard of the basketball hoop, which they had placed on the floor, was a whipped up concoction of baby carrots, 10-12 bottles worth of water (we had NO water left in the fridge at all), hazelnut creamer (that kinda pissed me off, cause that's my favorite), Parmesan cheese and chocolate sundae syrup. See picture above.

Surrounding this lovely brew were emptied water bottles, ketchup, pickles and other various items which are off-limits, unless we are actually, well.. eating.

We decided the best punishment for such a sickening mess would be to make the children clean it up! The carrots were extremely slimy and gross, so this punishment did wonders! One by one, they carried carrots into the house. Aiden grabbed a jar of spaghetti sauce at one point, looked at me desperately and said, "Mommy, can you carry this? It's way too heavy for my little boy hands"... I laughed hysterically. He didn't find this funny at all. Someone had the strength to traipse out to the porch with the spaghetti sauce, so that person could obviously carry it back to it's home. He walked to the fridge like he was carrying a big box of horse dung, not a little sauce jar.

Aiden's comments left me startled. I was so amused, it was impossible for me to keep a straight face. Joel did the disciplinarian thing. He laughed in between, but unlike me, he was very careful not to let the kids see his amusement. I don't have that kind of control. And I certainly wasn't leaving! This was free entertainment!

Aiden screamed at Logan, "this is SO terrible. I'm SO disappointed!".. HA! As if he hadn't had a thing to do with it! So, we finally concurred that all three children played a part in this very organized, hilarious condiment scheme.

I couldn't help but spring some tears, and maybe a bit of pee, when Joel opened the window on the porch, and just threw the whole damn backboard outside... after the kids had cleaned it up. Joel doesn't get rattled very often, so this whole scene was extremely funny. The kids looked shocked. I know what they were thinking... "why did we just clean that up if JOEL was just gonna throw it outside?"... hehehehehehehehehe!

I asked Aiden why they did it... "cause it was fun Mommy"... and did you have fun cleaning it up? "Yes Mommy, I did"... wicked laughs! I couldn't take it! Joel says, "so, since you enjoyed making the mess and the cleaning up, will you enjoy the spanking you all are going to get?" Aiden: "No, but I won't cry"... Joel: "Oh yeah?" Aiden: "Yeah, cause you won't spank my butt, you can just smack my hand JOEL, Ok?" I couldn't hold it together at all.

Aiden looked over at me finally and said, "Mommy, I guess you're gonna have to go to the store and get some more of that cream for your coffee and water. I guess we can't eat tonight." Please remember, Abbi & Aiden are 4.5... they are twins... they are GOING to get into trouble. You know that saying, "what one doesn't think of, the other one will?" Well, it's amazingly true people! Logan, who is 2.5 is the tag-along. And the blamee. He doesn't talk much, so if the twins do something and they know it isn't right, Logan did it. They're learning... that we are a very smart Mommy & JOEL... not Daddy. Hehehehe!

Abbi sat on the couch pursing her lips, wanting a kiss. I laughed. Logan sat there holding his little tiny ass. I laughed. Aiden told JOEL he was sorry... I laughed. The kids were spanked. I didn't laugh, but I did as soon as they were done crying.

It was a fabulously entertaining evening here! No treats though. That broke their hearts more than the spankings. Aiden apologized several times tonight. He was very worried about the lack of water in the house. Little does he know we have faucets. He was also concerned about my morning coffee. I'm concerned too.

Tonight was, by far, the worst and the funniest event of my kiddos' lives. I'm glad it happened. I needed a laugh.

My Own Worst Enemy

At this very moment I should be in bed. It's 12:31am and, once again, I will be waking up tired tomorrow. Okay, I'm tired whether I have had 4 hours of sleep, or 10. I just love sleep. It makes me happy.... along with fancy coffee, flip-flops (or slip-slops as my Abbi calls them), Denis Leary and my family & friends, not in that order.

I have come to the realization that I am my own worst enemy. I will often tell a resident at work how pretty she looks, or how nice he looks in his new shirt. I often get the replies, "Oh, I'm so old... I'm not pretty", and they shrug me off with a chuckle. I always tell them that they are their own worst critic. WOW, I've never put MYSELF in that position before. Sure, I receive compliments now and again, but do I accept them with a simple "thank you" and move on throughout my day, a little spark in my step from their nice words? Hell No! I pick it apart, and wonder if they were just sucking up... to the point where I don't even enjoy it. Huh... I guess I should practice what I preach...

I am genuinely a nice person. When I tell someone they look nice, I mean it. As I've mentioned before, I see the good in people. The bad sneaks in every now & then, but that is just being realistic. I often wonder what people truly think of me? I won the award for the "Happiest Employee" at work last year. I wonder if that's how people see me... as "happy"? Most generally I am. I like to think people believe I have a kind spirit, and I'm fun-loving and easy to talk to. I like to think that my less-than-perfect physical attributes (I'm quite pale and practically blind) are less seen because of my sparkling personality.

The problem is... I may be able to figure out what others truly think if I allow them to think it... to me. If I stop pushing the kind words aside, and take them to heart. If I let the nice things people say get to me as much as the mean things they do and say, I'd be a new woman! Why is it we remember the bad remarks so much more easily than the good? Why are we honestly our own worst enemies, our own worst critics?

I may not receive a compliment tomorrow... but if I do, I'm going to take it to heart. I'll let it put a smile on my face, and an extra spark in that step. I may even say "thank you" without laughing or shaking my head.

I have learned something today... I need to allow people to like me... in order to like myself. I am a good person, and I'm going to let the world see it. And those who don't? Well, they have issues of their own, so they need not worry about mine.

Don't be your own worst critic or enemy... join me and mean it! You are wonderful, and so am I!

Take Me There...

Summer Vacation. The phrase sounds just like a little piece of heaven! My family & I went on vacations each summer when I was a little girl. I've been to many of the states in the US. I remember bits & pieces, but wish I remembered more... Here are some of my accounts from past vacations, which I have touched on in recent posts.


One of my more vivid vacation experiences is when my family went out west when I was around 7 years old. We took a 3-week trip and saw several states. I can clearly remember my dad, while pulling a travel trailer, driving on excruciatingly scary curvy roads. The 'curves' were much more like sharp turns, and most of the time, there were no guard rails to be seen.



I remember Dad having to honk the horn while going around these 'curves' and the horns still honking in my head long after we stopped driving.



I have 2 very clear memories from this trip... the first being absolutely amazing, in my opinion...



We were going around one of those sharp turn-curves I mentioned, and when we looked down, hundreds of feet, there were old cars piled at the bottom of this huge drop. I could not believe it! This was in Arizona. I believe there should be a name for this spot, and it should definitely be a tourist attraction to promote better driving. Those people that sped over the huge cliff learned their lesson... but they learned it a bit too late to change their ways. I like to think that the people survived, but there was no possible way of pulling the cars out of the pile-up hundreds of feet down. This was educational for me, and I still think about it. It was awful and amazing at the same time.



The second memory I enjoy recalling also took place in Arizona and has to do with my father, who can be extremely funny and impulsive! My brother wanted a cactus. He wanted a cactus really bad. My dad finally got so tired of hearing about the cactus, he pulled over on the side of the road in Arizona, walked right out to a small cactus and tried to rip it out of the ground. Dad's hands were covered in spines and I knew, although he had very rough and tough hands from years of work, he had hurt himself. It was an experience... I promise you that! And I still bring it up to my dad! Impulse cacti-picking is not for the weak or faint of heart. :0) We did not come home with a cactus. My poor brother. My poor dad's hands.



Now, I would like to share with you a wonderful memory from a summer vacation with my family when I was in the 4th grade. Our family went to Hocking Hills to camp in Ohio (a couple of hours from home). There were many activities going on at the shelter house, and when we camped, I tended to get involved in the activities taking place, and liked to make lots of friends (and boyfriends)...



I heard through the campground grapevine that there was going to be a singing contest! My love for singing pushed me to enter. I sang "Somewhere out There" from The American Tale. I won! I remember being so excited! My prize consisted of riding on a golf cart to the campground store, and picking out any t-shirt of my choice, on the house! I chose a pink Garfield shirt. I wore it to bed for YEARS! I'm sure it still resides in my parents' attic. I may even see it again one day! I remember Garfield was half gone last time I saw it, from repeated wash & wear. I was extremely proud of that t-shirt!



The following story is my first real vacation memory with my husband... and I still ache to go back:

Last November, my husband and I went to Atlantic City, New Jersey for our 10 year wedding anniversary. It was amazing! We budgeted and planned, and it was 4 days and 3 nights of bliss! Although it hovered between 50 & 60 degrees while we were there, and the sun didn't come out until the last day we were there, it was magical!



Joel, my husband, is very laid back... so laid back that I often get discouraged, because he is perfectly content to sit at home and stick to the routine of life. I am not this way. I like to experience things! To be impulsive (thanks Dad!) and try new, fun things! Vacations have always been on the top of my list of things to do, but Joel has always been nonchalant about vacationing, so I have pretty much let it sit on the back burner, just keeping it warm enough to know that one day I'd fire it up, and we'd finally escape Ohio!



When we started planning our trip, I was so extrmely excited! Joel didn't seem so excited. He had never seen the ocean. That shocked me! I couldn't wait to show it to him, and although he was not doing cartwheels at the thought of seeing a hugely beautiful body of water, I knew he'd be impressed once we got there.



I was right. Joel loved the vacation experience just as much as I did. I remember one night we had returned to our hotel room after walking on the boardwalk, having a homeless man yell at us (and others) to "GO DIE", eating pizza on the beach and checking out the strip of casinos. Once we got back to our room, I washed my face, got ready for bed and settled in. Joel looked at me and said, "you wanna go down to the casino?" I was in heaven! Such a shock for me! Joel was finally doing something on a whim! Atlantic City was bringing out the best in my husband. I liked it! I loved it!



We did a lot of things the 4 days we were there. I was so happy. I missed the kids, but knowing they were safe, I was able to truly enjoy myself and relax... and so was Joel. I can't wait to go back... whether it be Atlantic City or another city... I am looking forward to a WARM trip to the beach!



My dream vacation is to rent a house right on the beach... to watch the kids playing in the sand, building sandcastles and screaming with joy! My husband will write "Joel Loves Kelly" in the sand big enough for passing airplanes to see. I will sit on the beach with my collection of books, my notebook for future blogs, my babies surrounding me and my husband staring out at the ocean, that he once didn't care about, in awe... I want to start making our own vacation memories... ones the kids can laugh about and blog about one day...

I hope to be there soon...

My Friend Heda

Warning: This blog post is NOT for those folks who do not enjoy cryptic humor. You won't understand the humor in this at all if you were not born a neurotic, slap-happy goofball. You must have a very special mind to appreciate a head of lettuce talking to you... very, very special. Read on if you dare... but I warned you!



Dear Reader,

My name is Heda (pronounced Head-a). I was delivered at Meijer in recent days. I cannot tell you exactly which day I was thrown into the lettuce bin. I was buried beneath many other lettuce heads of all shapes and sizes (well, mostly round, but we all protrude in various areas). Some heads were rotting onto me, and I was so very thankful when I began making my way to the top of the bin. I would rather be eaten than to live like this... in my own private lettuce hell.



So today I reached the top! Oh, what a glorious day! I sat there for a while, glaring at shoppers choosing my fellow heads, and then I decided to change my attitude. After all, I was at the very tip-top, and pretty soon I knew I couldn't be ignored! It was MY TIME TO SHINE!


So I enjoyed the sprinkles of water the workers sprayed on me, and basked there, changing positions whenever possible to show off my succulent-ness and my fabulous figure. I had very few protruding areas. I was the perfect choice for the woman eye-balling me. I had almost perfect roundness. And so did she!


The woman picked me up and fondled me with expert hands. She fingered my rear and squeezed me like a juiced-up lemon. I was so sure she would pick me! I was so overly excited I could hardly take the suspense.


Just then, out of nowhere, my plump would-be friend dropped me onto the tiled floor. She stared at me for a minute, turned her head in all directions to make sure no shoppers had witnessed her clumsiness and walked away! SHE WALKED AWAY! I just sat on the floor in shock. Thankfully I was sitting in a come-hither position. I knew I couldn't be resisted for long. I had no heads to compete with! I just knew I would be the first one to be noticed. I stuck out like a.... well, a head of lettuce on the ground.


Just then it hit me! Nobody would ever choose me over the others. I was tarnished! Think of all the feet that had walked on the same floor I sat upon. My heart began to break... my leaves wilted a little at the thought.


And then I had a moment of hopefullness. A tall, redheaded silly-looking girl walked by. She looked at me, turned her head and told me she would be back. Was she coming back to buy me? Was I finally going to escape the evilness of Meijer? I prayed! I wanted to be adopted. If just for a short while. I didn't care... I wanted to scream "you can eat me! Just take me home!" But I didn't.


The redhead came back then. I had seen her giggling all the way down to the cheese section and back. She walked up to me, cell phone in hand, and just as she leaned down, I knew she was going to pick me up! ADOPTION DAY! I couldn't take the suspense! I was panting I was so excited! "Come on redheaded mama... take me home!"


As she knelt down, she giggled at me once more and snap! Took my picture. She stared at me for a moment, and at that very moment, I could hear her thoughts.... she was thinking "I want to run over you... over and over and over you with my cart, but I'll resist because you are a perfectly good head of dirty lettuce. I'll leave you here to be plucked up by some other poor sucker." It was terribe... mostly because this redheaded hag was staring at me with such amusement in her eyes, and yet she was thinking of mowing me down!


I stared after her, willing her to trip. She didn't. Little did she know that I would later be gathered by a rich old woman, and after getting me home and into the refrigerator, she would pass away in her sleep, dreaming of the fabulous garden she never had. She had picked me out and washed me, thinking that she would make homemade coleslaw, and impress her lazy garden-club friends with her 'special coleslaw' from her fenced-in non-existent garden she allowed no one near.


I gloriously rotted in her refrigerator for 9 months. No one ever found me until the house was sold. I prayed the new owners would keep me, but my moldiness and lack of lustrous leaves must have turned them off. I was thrown into a dumpster, and later into a huge heap of trash, where I would become even more rancid over time, finally disintegrating into nothingness.


I do not wish this upon any of my lettuce friends. Lettuce all get along. Lettuce not drop lettuce and cabbage and other garden friends at the store, and not pick them up to allow them another chance to find a home. Lettuce love one another... we lettuce know you will eat us. We are okay with that. We just want to be chosen. We just need a moment in the sun. Lettuce have peace... between human and vegetable... LETTUCE.


Your Putrefied Friend,

Heda Lettuce



A Note From the Redhead:


Dear Heda,
I do apologize that I did not pluck you from your sad place on the Meijer floor. I had no idea you were so distraught. I did laugh at you. I couldn't help it. And you read my thoughts correctly... I did wish to run over you with my cart... repeatedly... over and over... but I didn't. I simply took your picture. What harm did that do?

Heda, I need you to know that the reason I did not adopt you is because I did not need you. I needed no lettuce for the spaghetti and garlic bread we were having for dinner. I simply needed cheese.

When I first saw you, I didn't know what to think of the fact that you were sitting all alone in the middle of the floor. I don't believe I've ever seen a single head of lettuce on the floor at the grocery before. I have now! And that's why I laughed!

You DID shine today though... I must tell you... I sent your photo to my friends. We talked about you all evening! Heda, I hope you understand that I did not mean to hurt you. I just needed a laugh, and you provided that. I hope you enjoy your lettuce heaven. Lettuce have peace on Earth! God Bless and Goodnight.

Your friend,

The Redhead

Pulling Out the Aquanet, LipSmackers and Boombox... My Tribute to the 80s & early 90s

This post is proud to be part of:


I'm sitting here tonight in my rainbow leg-warmers, eating Pop Rocks, listening to my NKOTB cassette tape and contemplating playing Twister. I'm getting ready to put on my leotard, work out to some Jane Fonda, bedazzle my pretty pink Caboodle, and then when it's all done... I'll lay down on my daybed with the satin pink ruffled bedspread and read some Judy Blume. Since my hair will get flat from laying around, I'll have to pull out my comb, tease my hair and spray it with Aquanet, only after applying Sun-In for that beachy look. After that, I'll break out my breakdance moves, while listening to my pink boombox and drinking some Tang. How enjoyable it is being in my 80s/90s timewarp!

I was born in 1979. I was a child of the 80s and early 90s. I enjoyed my scrunchies, my huge bangs, my tight-rolled jeans, my music (ie, Poison's Unskinny Bop, Def Leppard's Hysteria cassette, ALL of Debbie Gibson's music, C+C Music Factory, Tiffany's I Think We're Alone Now, Cyndi Lauper's True Colors and Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, New Kids on the Block's Hangin' Tough and Please Don't Go Girl and MANY more). I also enjoyed my Lik-Em-Aid and Hubba Bubba... and who could forget nose candy... LOL... just kidding... I never went there... well, kinda...

Alright, so all joking aside, I think it's quite fun being a material girl in a material world. I DO miss my pink Caboodle with the multi-trays, all ready for my headbands, blue eyeshadow and Love's Baby Soft. The Easter bunny brought me Baby Soft for Easter this year, and you know what? I still love it! My friend Kara has also offered me her 90s Caboodle, which I plan to immediately bedazzle and fill with my crimper, my Swatch and my woven-thread friendship bracelets. All the while, I'll be watching The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink, wishing I looked like Molly Ringwald and hanging out with Duckie. Wow! I can't wait...

It's so funny looking back! Before tonight and my reminiscing with old friends, I had forgotten about so many of these things! I truly did work out to Jane Fonda & Richard Simmons... Mom was always stocked up on good VHS tapes!

I remember being outside in my jellies, toting around my Strawberry Shortcake doll with the HUGE head, with my boombox turned up so loud, screaming along to "We Built this City on Rock & Roll"... such good times!

I'd ride my bike to meet my friend Amy half-way, although she always wound up riding further than me! We'd watch Johnny and Baby dance over and over again, wishing we could hold on to those muscled biceps! Yum!

I also remember Amy & I laughing so hard at one of our sleepovers that I spit grape juice all over her bedroom! I didn't think miss Judy would EVER let me come back! Amy enjoyed staying at my house anyway because of the abundance of 'fun food'... I believe I remember Amy's Mom always making me drink the milk left in my cereal bowl, which I dreaded... I still don't do that. My kids do. I am SO becoming a true parent... do as I say, and not as I do.

I wonder how the kids of this decade will reminisce... in 15 years, will iPods and Laptops be a thing of the past? Will they laugh at the fact they used to listen to Katy Perry and Gavin DeGraw? Will they giggle uncontrollably about their low-ride jeans and their thongs sticking out above them for the whole world to see... (I laugh uncontrollably about that now)! Will they blush when they think about bikini waxes and having bars put in their ears, and the holes they have left behind.

I remember when it meant that a guy was gay if he had both ears pierced, and it was cool to wear bibs with one side unfastened. I just wonder if the kids of today will look back at this era and remember it as their 'Good Old Days'...

The world seems so much more complicated now that Bonnie Bell's Lip Smackers are no longer a must-have and we don't hear Tears for Fears on the radio anymore. It's a shame really... that bangle bracelets are no longer layered up our arms and Jazzercise is not the fitness group of choice.

Oh, to sit here and remember... it's such a nostalgic feeling... I feel like a young girl getting ready to watch Fraggle Rock with my Popple and my Pound Puppies. Maybe I'll Google Pogo Balls and Roller Racers and order some pre-owned goodness. If I do, I'll invite you all over! We can play with Teddy Ruxpin and call 867-5309 together. Good times ahead friends... good times...

Pure Profoundness

Okay, so believe it or not, this entry is going to be completely genuine and possibly profound. It's a reminiscence. When I find myself in one of these moods, I roll with it... not only because I enjoy the nostalgia, but also because it makes for fabulous writing!

As you can see by my last blog entry, last time I checked in I was NOT feeling nostalgic, nor serious. That was over a week ago. The blog feeling has just not been with me. Call it's bloggers block or typers thwart. Whatever it is, it sucks. I literally sat down at my computer every single night to type to all of my (4) loyal fans, only to find I had nothing intriguing to blog about. I tried. I truly did. I looked to other blogs for inspiration. I checked my other online outlets often, but no revelations came to me. Until today...

I recently ordered a book from Amazon, entitled More List Yourself. I remember having the original book a few years ago, and not writing in it, after deciding that it required way too much thought. Back then, I fought every single feeling I had, and refused to entertain any idea of improving myself from the inside, afraid that I might accidentally find a repressed feeling that I may not be able to deal with.

Today I embrace these feelings. If I remember something hurtful I FIND a way to deal with it. I have been very blessed, and have come to realize that I am not beyond asking for help.

Some forms of assistance I may require on any given day:

-Friends

-Texting

-Family

-Prayer

-Sleep (10-12 hours please)

-Alcohol

-Anti-depressents

-Anti-psychotics

-Anti-anxiety medications

-A cocktail of the above listed ingredients

-A good book

-A vacation

-Sex

-Dr. Christian Troy, the remote & my bed

-A good workout

-Again... a cocktail of the above mentioned items & man

-A bubble bath

-A hot shower

-A mani/pedi

-A dozen pillows, my bed & a stack of good magazines

-Catalogs & endless money

-Panera

-Vente Mocha

-A love letter

-Music

-Cool, crisp air

-Hot, steamy sex dreams

Add your own to create your own happy list. Just making the stupid list will enlighten you, and listening to Jason Mraz's 'I'm Yours' with your kids. Pure bliss!

See, I told you it would be profound!