One year ago today, my world changed forever. I was at work, just like any other normal Wednesday morning, when I got the call. My sister was trying to get me on the phone to let me know that my father was being ushered out of the house on a stretcher at that moment and Mom needed me to meet her at the hospital. Of course, before she could say another word, I was gathering my things and digging for my keys. Hospitals are something we don't play about or use lightly in my family, especially in regards to Daddy. After several major heart attacks requiring 2 triple bypasses, 6 stints and 4 angioplasty, every chest pain was very serious.
I met my mom in the emergency waiting room and walked with her to the admissions desk to fill out paper work. When the nurse asked for a signature regarding what to do if he died, she broke down. I have never seen my mother cry like she did at that moment. I gathered her in my arms and held her until she calmed down a bit. It was heartbreaking to hear.
As she was signing the papers, I turned around to see them wheel Dad from the ambulance unloading area to the operating room. The plan was to insert an emergency pace maker, because there was no more tissue to operate on around his heart and arteries. It was all scar tissue from the trauma of his previous surgeries. This was his only hope.
The nurse walked with us to the operating waiting room and left us with the knowledge that it would take at least an hour before anything was known. On the way up, I ran into Andy's aunt, who was there for her husband, after he had suffered a heart attack as well. He was in the operating room next door to my father. We sat in that big empty room for a while, until Mom couldn't take it anymore. We decided to walk to the convenience store just on the other side of the hospital, so that she could get some more cigarettes (ironic, huh?). On the way back , we took our time and talked about what was going on. Momma made the strange comment that she didn't think he was going to come home this time. Of course, I replied that she shouldn't say things like that cause Daddy can survive anything. He HAD to make it through.
But he didn't. We got back up to the waiting room, only 45 minutes after they had wheeled him up and immediately the receptionist lead us to a different small room. The crosses on the wall hinted where we were and why. Sure enough, 15 agonizing minutes later, the doctor entered followed closely by the hospital chaplain. The doctor quickly and calmly informed us that Daddy hadn't made it through the surgery. I remember the shock and crushing weight that hit my chest, but the rest is only flashes of pictures of the next few hours. My mom pulling me to her tightly, crying, repeating, "Oh, God. I knew it. I had a feeling. I knew it. Oh, God." I couldn't breathe. Then the chaplain had to interrupt our crying to discuss the next step. Where should the body be sent? Would he be buried or cremated? Can he get us anything?
I remember calling my husband first. My hands shook so hard that I couldn't dial the number without help. He was at work and got approval from his boss to leave for the day and meet us at my parent's house. Then, we had to call my sisters. Two of them were already at the house, as they had been waiting for word of Daddy. The other was out of reach until much later that night. Somehow, Mom was able to drive us home, though we had to stop more than once to sob and hug. I almost passed out walking from the hospital door to the parking lot. When we got home, Mom and I just stood holding onto each other, until we could finally gather ourselves and walk into the garage. Andy just took the place of Mom beside me, close and comforting. We all sat in the open garage and looked at each other, lost for words. The only sound an occassional sob that couldn't be held back.
I had to call my boss and let him know that I wasn't coming back for a few days. Then, it was time to call my Dad's business partner and old friend. I don't know what was said or how understandable it was, but he knew. After that, it took some time before I could tell anyone else, because it was just too painful to say the words out loud.
My mom finally went inside the house and the bedroom they had shared. The wrappers from the medical equipment were still littering the floor where the EMT's had hastily thrown them. His shoes still lay beside the bed, waiting to be put on. The pillow just fluffing back out from the indention his head had created during the night. You could even smell his scent still lingering in the air. It was too much to bear. My sisters and I ran through the house, hiding everything of his- his hairbrush, jeans, wallet, pictures, belt. Everything. Still, it was almost impossible to walk through the place.
Eventually, we were able to calm down and start to breath again. But, we couldn't leave each other's sides for the following days. We slept on the couches and floor, going to our respective homes only to get clothes and personal things we would need soon.
The funeral was a few days later. I barely recall any of it, except how everyone was so wonderful and supportive. All of my friends, including some I hadn't seen in years, came and showed their love for Daddy and our family. It was a bittersweet reunion of old neighbors, relatives and family friends. I don't even know if I told them how touched I was to see them all there. How, without all of them, I couldn't have survived those next few weeks and months. How grateful I am that they let me talk about him and just listened when I needed it most.
So, today, September 28, 2006, I would like to honor his memory and the wonderful people who were and still are so very important to me. Thank you. I love you.
Rest in peace, Daddy. It's never "Goodbye", only a "See you later." I love you and miss you.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Monkey Business
Hubby and I decided to take a day off and go to the zoo last week. Now, I don't just like the zoo. I loooooove the zoo. I'm like a Weight Watchers drop out with a day pass to Wonka's Chocolate Factory. It had been a while since we'd made a trip out there and some new exhibits are on display, so to say I was excited would be understating it a bit. Mainly, animals fascinate me, but also? Because there's nothing funnier than a monkey diddling himself while a group of bystanders watch. And take pictures, because, OMG, HE'S JERKIN' HIS GURKIN, RIGHT IN FRONT OF US! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
The orangutans are by far my favorite. They are so expressive and clever. This guy was sitting way in the back until he saw us approach. That was when he came forth like Moses with the 10 Commandments, and plopped down directly in front of where we were standing. Andy had a soft drink, which we had to mortgage our house to buy from the machine (those price gouging bastards), and this orangutan really wanted it. But because we doubted Mountain Dew Code Red is on his diet menu, his dream couldn't come true.
"C'mon. Tell you what, I'll turn my head and wait for a mysterious drink to appear in my hand. That way, if anyone asks, I can say I didn't see the guy."
The orangutans are by far my favorite. They are so expressive and clever. This guy was sitting way in the back until he saw us approach. That was when he came forth like Moses with the 10 Commandments, and plopped down directly in front of where we were standing. Andy had a soft drink, which we had to mortgage our house to buy from the machine (those price gouging bastards), and this orangutan really wanted it. But because we doubted Mountain Dew Code Red is on his diet menu, his dream couldn't come true.
"Hey, buddy. Why don't you let me have a taste?"
"C'mon. Tell you what, I'll turn my head and wait for a mysterious drink to appear in my hand. That way, if anyone asks, I can say I didn't see the guy."
"What do you mean, No? Bitch, I'm thirsty and can rip your arm off and beat you with it."
"Yeah, well, screw you."
P.S. I've been trying to post these pictures for the past week and blogger has not been user friendly. So, sorry it's been so long since an update.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Happy Birthday to You!
Happy Birthday, Andrew!
Today, you turn twenty nine
and DAMN, you are still looking fine.
Your eyes are so warm and soft,
I wanna tumble you in the loft.
Your smile is so sweet and caring.
Your hunky chest is worth bearing.
Your hands are so strong and able.
I can't say what I'd do to you on that table.
Your arms are so safe and snuggly,
Please wrap those arms around me.
Your laughter adds happiness and pizzaz.
It doesn't hurt to be paired with that ass.
Your loving heart turns my head,
Makes me want to take you straight to bed.
My love for you grows stronger everyday.
That is all I'm really trying to say.
Today, you turn twenty nine
and DAMN, you are still looking fine.
Your eyes are so warm and soft,
I wanna tumble you in the loft.
Your smile is so sweet and caring.
Your hunky chest is worth bearing.
Your hands are so strong and able.
I can't say what I'd do to you on that table.
Your arms are so safe and snuggly,
Please wrap those arms around me.
Your laughter adds happiness and pizzaz.
It doesn't hurt to be paired with that ass.
Your loving heart turns my head,
Makes me want to take you straight to bed.
My love for you grows stronger everyday.
That is all I'm really trying to say.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Wow! Look Another New Post! 2 In 1 Week! Woohoo!
Hmmm, I probably should have thought out the whole "Ask Me a Question" thing, cause well, there's really nothing left to the imagination with me. As I said, my life is an open book, so everybody pretty much knows everything. Plus, there are very FEW people who know about my blog, (at least, that I know of...) because I was to afraid to whore it out to everybody, like SOME people I know. *Cough* *Hily* * Cough* Why? Because I write about my family a lot. And my in-laws. And my boss, sometimes. So, I'm just going to skipover that little segment, but still feel free if there is a burning question on your mind.
Instead, I am going to post some Tales From the Married Side. (You know, like Tales From the Dark Side? Only with less, umm, dark.)
A few nights ago, while Andy and I were driving down the road, discussing my efforts at giving up fast food and limiting my coke intake (Notice, that could mean ANY soft drink. That's what Southerners call all of them cause that's how we roll.), he said something that will make me love him forever. "I wouldn't want you to lose too much weight, because then we couldn't share socks." Yes, that is word for word.
Yesterday evening, we were at the grocery store, you know buying food, so I wouldn't be so tempted to just go out and grab a burger for lunch, when we reached the Mac and Cheese Department. "My, God, we are going to go into the poor house, buying YOUR brand of macaroni!" He still freaks out that I'm willing to pay over $2 a box, so that I don't have to eat the kind with the powdered cheese. This came up one other time that will live in my memory forever. See, we have this conversation Each. And. Every. Time. we grocery shop. So, after one particularly fiesty round of My Kind Is Better Than Your Kind, we get to the register and the check out guy says, "This is the good stuff. I can handle a lot of generic foods, but I can't stand powdered cheese macaroni!" Thank you.
Before the shopping, we had dinner at Huey's. Hey, you can't shop on an empty stomach! It makes you buy crap and that's just no good for anybody. While waiting for the check, I asked Andy if he thought it would be dorky for me to ask the waitress what kind of pickle spears they served, because sweet aunt maple, they were wonderful! He said, "Yeah, but only cause it's going to have a follow up question about the ranch dressing." (The pickles? They are Schwartz's brand, but apparently, they can't be found in the store. I looked. Repeatedly.)
Instead, I am going to post some Tales From the Married Side. (You know, like Tales From the Dark Side? Only with less, umm, dark.)
A few nights ago, while Andy and I were driving down the road, discussing my efforts at giving up fast food and limiting my coke intake (Notice, that could mean ANY soft drink. That's what Southerners call all of them cause that's how we roll.), he said something that will make me love him forever. "I wouldn't want you to lose too much weight, because then we couldn't share socks." Yes, that is word for word.
Yesterday evening, we were at the grocery store, you know buying food, so I wouldn't be so tempted to just go out and grab a burger for lunch, when we reached the Mac and Cheese Department. "My, God, we are going to go into the poor house, buying YOUR brand of macaroni!" He still freaks out that I'm willing to pay over $2 a box, so that I don't have to eat the kind with the powdered cheese. This came up one other time that will live in my memory forever. See, we have this conversation Each. And. Every. Time. we grocery shop. So, after one particularly fiesty round of My Kind Is Better Than Your Kind, we get to the register and the check out guy says, "This is the good stuff. I can handle a lot of generic foods, but I can't stand powdered cheese macaroni!" Thank you.
Before the shopping, we had dinner at Huey's. Hey, you can't shop on an empty stomach! It makes you buy crap and that's just no good for anybody. While waiting for the check, I asked Andy if he thought it would be dorky for me to ask the waitress what kind of pickle spears they served, because sweet aunt maple, they were wonderful! He said, "Yeah, but only cause it's going to have a follow up question about the ranch dressing." (The pickles? They are Schwartz's brand, but apparently, they can't be found in the store. I looked. Repeatedly.)
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Everybody's Doing It...
Yup, I give in. I will be happy to answer any questions you can put to me. My life is already pretty much an open book, so it shouldn't be too hard.
In the meantime, let me know what you think of this new outfit. I think I like it better, it's easier on the eyes without the bright orange.
Until I get some questions, how about another 'Fun With Your In-Laws' story? Yes, you say? Alright, here goes.
My sister in law and mother in law both work VERY close to my work (like within blocks), so for the last several weeks, I've been meeting with my SIL for lunch. Mrs. B works for a hospital and hasn't been able to get away to join us. Until last week.
SIL and I went to a nearby deli and MIL called to say that she was free to have lunch with us. So, she arrives, we get our food and are getting settled at the table, when SIL's phone rings. She takes the call outside, leaving me and Mrs. B alone, who lets me know she's going to fix her drink before walking off.
About 3.5 seconds later, MIL returns and says, " I've never been here before, where do I go to get my drink?"
I reply, "Oh, over there on the other side of the salad bar, under the sign."
"You mean under the neon DRINKS sign?"
Hmm, who'd have thought to look there??
In the meantime, let me know what you think of this new outfit. I think I like it better, it's easier on the eyes without the bright orange.
Until I get some questions, how about another 'Fun With Your In-Laws' story? Yes, you say? Alright, here goes.
My sister in law and mother in law both work VERY close to my work (like within blocks), so for the last several weeks, I've been meeting with my SIL for lunch. Mrs. B works for a hospital and hasn't been able to get away to join us. Until last week.
SIL and I went to a nearby deli and MIL called to say that she was free to have lunch with us. So, she arrives, we get our food and are getting settled at the table, when SIL's phone rings. She takes the call outside, leaving me and Mrs. B alone, who lets me know she's going to fix her drink before walking off.
About 3.5 seconds later, MIL returns and says, " I've never been here before, where do I go to get my drink?"
I reply, "Oh, over there on the other side of the salad bar, under the sign."
"You mean under the neon DRINKS sign?"
Hmm, who'd have thought to look there??
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Donkeys and Stuff (aka I Put The Word Donkeys In The Title To Catch Your Eye)
Okay, let's see, where were we? Oh, right. Donkeys for cheap. Well, upon reflection, this isn't really that great of a story, except to me. And maybe Andy, cause he was there to see me laugh like a hyena at it. However, to let you know what I was referring to (because I know it's been boggling your mind for weeks now), I noticed an ad in the classifieds for a pair of donkeys for $325. $325 for a PAIR! For some reason, that really cracked me up. I mean, what a deal! The ad mentioned that they were young, fat and great predator control. How can you NOT buy them? AND they deliver (the seller, not the donkeys)! My hands literally shook with the need to pick up the phone.
In other, more interesting news... DAMN! I forgot. I have no interesting news. Jeez, how embarrassing.
Um, well, there was the Breakfast Club meeting that took place a few weeks ago. Lots of alcohol and Mexican food was consumed. The word "ejaculation" may have been shrieked loudly. And, the someone (not naming names here) that said it might also have shaken her well shaped hinny across the smoking section. Thank you girls, I needed that, by the way. And, OMG, Look out, Sept. 9th.
Moving on...
I have recently lost a reader due to her company blocking the blog world. Ugh. That sucks, but I hope she can catch up with me sometime from home, though with a young son reeking constant havoc, I understand it's hard to find the time. Then again, she pretty much knows everything that is ever going on anyway. And Kat, if (yeah, right, WHEN) you do read this, your comment about Andy's and my love (is that proper grammer? I have no idea.), totally made me tear up. So sweet of you.
I also want to give some major props to my homegirl, Stef. She generously donated her vacation time, sweat and tears to help with the NOLA victims of Hurricane Katrina. You can read about her experiences here. Stef, I admire you and can only hope to be as kind hearted as you have shown yourself to be. Seriously, there will be some extra jewels in your crown in heaven for what you have done.
As for this blog. No, I am not done with it. I'm enjoying the new scenery, but it just doesn't seem to fit. So, don't be surprised to see more changes coming this way. It may take time, as I only have a computer at work, but be patient with me. This goes for actual blogging as well. I am very aware that I don't update as often as my bodacious buddies, but really, do you want to be bored with the mundane details of my mundane life? Didn't think so. That said, the coming month is going to be a very full one, so perhaps it will be busier around here. But, I'm not making any promises. Again, I can only play when the cat's away; if you catch my drift and I think you do.
Anyway, I just really wanted to get something new up on the screen, so forgive the randomness of this post. Until next time, my lovelies.
In other, more interesting news... DAMN! I forgot. I have no interesting news. Jeez, how embarrassing.
Um, well, there was the Breakfast Club meeting that took place a few weeks ago. Lots of alcohol and Mexican food was consumed. The word "ejaculation" may have been shrieked loudly. And, the someone (not naming names here) that said it might also have shaken her well shaped hinny across the smoking section. Thank you girls, I needed that, by the way. And, OMG, Look out, Sept. 9th.
Moving on...
I have recently lost a reader due to her company blocking the blog world. Ugh. That sucks, but I hope she can catch up with me sometime from home, though with a young son reeking constant havoc, I understand it's hard to find the time. Then again, she pretty much knows everything that is ever going on anyway. And Kat, if (yeah, right, WHEN) you do read this, your comment about Andy's and my love (is that proper grammer? I have no idea.), totally made me tear up. So sweet of you.
I also want to give some major props to my homegirl, Stef. She generously donated her vacation time, sweat and tears to help with the NOLA victims of Hurricane Katrina. You can read about her experiences here. Stef, I admire you and can only hope to be as kind hearted as you have shown yourself to be. Seriously, there will be some extra jewels in your crown in heaven for what you have done.
As for this blog. No, I am not done with it. I'm enjoying the new scenery, but it just doesn't seem to fit. So, don't be surprised to see more changes coming this way. It may take time, as I only have a computer at work, but be patient with me. This goes for actual blogging as well. I am very aware that I don't update as often as my bodacious buddies, but really, do you want to be bored with the mundane details of my mundane life? Didn't think so. That said, the coming month is going to be a very full one, so perhaps it will be busier around here. But, I'm not making any promises. Again, I can only play when the cat's away; if you catch my drift and I think you do.
Anyway, I just really wanted to get something new up on the screen, so forgive the randomness of this post. Until next time, my lovelies.
Friday, August 11, 2006
The Anniversary Post
Real posts? Did I say something about real posts coming up soon? Alright, if you insist...
My husband and I recently celebrated our 5 year anniversary. Dear Lord. 5 years. Typing that out is so much different than just thinking it. Where the hell did the time go? We've actually been together for a total of 9 years. Sometimes, it feels like I have known him forever. Other times, I look at him and think WHO IS THIS GUY IN MY HOUSE?
Still, I can't imagine a day in my life without him. He is my rock and my strength, though I probably don't tell him that often enough. (I'm not going to start now, either. Don't want him thinking I've gone soft on him.) He still surprises me, even after all this time. Occasionally, he'll crank up the radio, turn off the tv and pull me into the living room floor for dancing. Or, he'll simply put my feet on his lap and start massaging them, without being asked. It reminds me again how very lucky I am.
It's funny how relationships change over time. I thought when we married that we couldn't be happier. Little did I know that Andy was having doubts about marriage and our future together. I've never talked about this before, except with him, but not because it bothers me. It simply never was a big enough deal to me. I know that sounds crazy to most of you, especially the newlyweds. How can she say he loves her if he doubted their SOULMATEY-NESS? To be honest, I completely understood his fear and hesitancy. I had some of my own after the wedding. I think every married or committed person does, even if they can only admit it to themselves. I mean, it's our life that we are promising away, how could we not question something that big, at least a teensy tiny bit? But, I also know that having these thoughts does not mean we love each other any less, only that we don't want to hurt each other later on.
Despite all, we've stood the test of time. So far, anyway. And in these years, our love has matured, grown and developed. It finally occurred to both of us that no matter our doubts, we were meant to be together. Andy has said he knows exactly when his epiphany came. 2 years after being married, we were vacationing in FL, when he realized this feeling he had wasn't going away. I don't think I really had a sudden dawning realization, so much as the truth has crept up on me over time. It was love at first sight, but it took time to understand how deep it went.
I love the feeling of us against the world that I have with him. I know I can tell him anything and it will not change his feelings for me. He knows the same about me. I remember reading in a Paul Reiser book how unfair it really is to be a spouse. He talked about how most people try their hardest to keep up a perfect front for everybody else, but the one person that they should be worried about looking good for, got the privilege of checking your nose for hanging boogs. Why do we worry about impressing people that mean next to nothing to us, like a coworker or a checker at WalMart, but think nothing of asking someone who is supposed to find us sexy for the rest of our lives, if they can smell our sweaty pits? It's simple. It feels good to have that little bit of ugliness just between you two. Those are the little things that you share only with each other. You can hide your bad habits from the world but when you live with someone, it all comes out. It's almost like having a secret, just not as interesting. (Only, no one knows it's uninteresting, because it's just between you and your other half. See how that works?)
This year was a bittersweet anniversary for us. I say that because it has been a terrible year for me, but each year spent with him is also the best year of my life. Without the hardships we have faced, we wouldn't have the closeness that we do. Without our arguments and fights, we couldn't appreciate the times of tenderness and laughter. We are known for playfully bickering, but I think the undercurrent of love is pretty obvious to most. I may call him an ass, but it's said with the utmost adoration.
Originally, I intended this post to be a *gasp* brag session of what a wonderful and expensive night we had, but it doesn't seem that important now. Sure, the dinner WAS fabulous and the atmosphere romantic, but the company was what made it special.
I wonder if anyone noticed that I am wearing his pants today?
My husband and I recently celebrated our 5 year anniversary. Dear Lord. 5 years. Typing that out is so much different than just thinking it. Where the hell did the time go? We've actually been together for a total of 9 years. Sometimes, it feels like I have known him forever. Other times, I look at him and think WHO IS THIS GUY IN MY HOUSE?
Still, I can't imagine a day in my life without him. He is my rock and my strength, though I probably don't tell him that often enough. (I'm not going to start now, either. Don't want him thinking I've gone soft on him.) He still surprises me, even after all this time. Occasionally, he'll crank up the radio, turn off the tv and pull me into the living room floor for dancing. Or, he'll simply put my feet on his lap and start massaging them, without being asked. It reminds me again how very lucky I am.
It's funny how relationships change over time. I thought when we married that we couldn't be happier. Little did I know that Andy was having doubts about marriage and our future together. I've never talked about this before, except with him, but not because it bothers me. It simply never was a big enough deal to me. I know that sounds crazy to most of you, especially the newlyweds. How can she say he loves her if he doubted their SOULMATEY-NESS? To be honest, I completely understood his fear and hesitancy. I had some of my own after the wedding. I think every married or committed person does, even if they can only admit it to themselves. I mean, it's our life that we are promising away, how could we not question something that big, at least a teensy tiny bit? But, I also know that having these thoughts does not mean we love each other any less, only that we don't want to hurt each other later on.
Despite all, we've stood the test of time. So far, anyway. And in these years, our love has matured, grown and developed. It finally occurred to both of us that no matter our doubts, we were meant to be together. Andy has said he knows exactly when his epiphany came. 2 years after being married, we were vacationing in FL, when he realized this feeling he had wasn't going away. I don't think I really had a sudden dawning realization, so much as the truth has crept up on me over time. It was love at first sight, but it took time to understand how deep it went.
I love the feeling of us against the world that I have with him. I know I can tell him anything and it will not change his feelings for me. He knows the same about me. I remember reading in a Paul Reiser book how unfair it really is to be a spouse. He talked about how most people try their hardest to keep up a perfect front for everybody else, but the one person that they should be worried about looking good for, got the privilege of checking your nose for hanging boogs. Why do we worry about impressing people that mean next to nothing to us, like a coworker or a checker at WalMart, but think nothing of asking someone who is supposed to find us sexy for the rest of our lives, if they can smell our sweaty pits? It's simple. It feels good to have that little bit of ugliness just between you two. Those are the little things that you share only with each other. You can hide your bad habits from the world but when you live with someone, it all comes out. It's almost like having a secret, just not as interesting. (Only, no one knows it's uninteresting, because it's just between you and your other half. See how that works?)
This year was a bittersweet anniversary for us. I say that because it has been a terrible year for me, but each year spent with him is also the best year of my life. Without the hardships we have faced, we wouldn't have the closeness that we do. Without our arguments and fights, we couldn't appreciate the times of tenderness and laughter. We are known for playfully bickering, but I think the undercurrent of love is pretty obvious to most. I may call him an ass, but it's said with the utmost adoration.
Originally, I intended this post to be a *gasp* brag session of what a wonderful and expensive night we had, but it doesn't seem that important now. Sure, the dinner WAS fabulous and the atmosphere romantic, but the company was what made it special.
I wonder if anyone noticed that I am wearing his pants today?
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Not really an update...
I know I haven't updated in a bit. But, it's been cah- raazy, around here, y'all. I have a lot of stuff that I want to post about, but I haven't had time to sit down and put my thoughts into a coherent passage. But to dangle some carrots, here are some of the things I will be writing about very soon (perhaps, hopefully, tomorrow, but probably Friday):
The anniversary
The drinking
The Breakfast Club
Donkeys for cheap
Thanks for all the great feedback on my new look. I can't take credit where it isn't due though, so thank you to blogskins.com. Check it out if your blog is in need of refreshment.
The anniversary
The drinking
The Breakfast Club
Donkeys for cheap
Thanks for all the great feedback on my new look. I can't take credit where it isn't due though, so thank you to blogskins.com. Check it out if your blog is in need of refreshment.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Hrmf
RECIPE FOR A BITCH
INGREDIENTS:
1 ADULT WOMAN
DIRECTIONS:
Put woman outside in sun to fry until crispy.
Add a dash of PMS and shake well.
Now let it sit until it's running late for everything.
Serve Pissed Off
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
What you talkin' bout, Willis?
Have y’all ever had a Freudian slip? No? Nah, me either.
Well, except this one time.
See, a very good friend of mine was about to get married. So, one sunny afternoon, Kat, her mother and I went shopping for wedding gowns. As we were browsing the endless aisles of white froth and lace, my eyes fastened on a miraculous creation of a gown. Soft, white, and delicately embroidered with purple flowers, the gown called to me, like a mother to a kid when it gets dark outside. “Kim! Kim! Look at meeeeeeee!!!!” And oh, how I looked.
Then, I turned directly towards Kat and her mother and said, “Next time I get married, I’m wearing this dress.”
“The NEXT time you get married?” K’s mom laughed.
Umm, yeah. I’d only been married for 2 years at the time.
I thought about that little conversation last night as hubby and I were watching “How I Met Your Mother”. The couple in the show was being forced to split and had decided to opt for a long distance relationship. So, of course, being a woman, I had to ask.
Me: “What would WE do if one of us had to move out of the country, if we weren’t married?”
Hubby: ”Well, I guess we’d either rush and get married and move together or split up.”
Me: “Do you think we could have a long distance relationship?”
Hubby: “I guess we could give it a go. If you moved, you’d have to stay single over there and I’d try to stay single back here.”
(Notice the try part of that statement.)
Guess we’re even now.
Well, except this one time.
See, a very good friend of mine was about to get married. So, one sunny afternoon, Kat, her mother and I went shopping for wedding gowns. As we were browsing the endless aisles of white froth and lace, my eyes fastened on a miraculous creation of a gown. Soft, white, and delicately embroidered with purple flowers, the gown called to me, like a mother to a kid when it gets dark outside. “Kim! Kim! Look at meeeeeeee!!!!” And oh, how I looked.
Then, I turned directly towards Kat and her mother and said, “Next time I get married, I’m wearing this dress.”
“The NEXT time you get married?” K’s mom laughed.
Umm, yeah. I’d only been married for 2 years at the time.
I thought about that little conversation last night as hubby and I were watching “How I Met Your Mother”. The couple in the show was being forced to split and had decided to opt for a long distance relationship. So, of course, being a woman, I had to ask.
Me: “What would WE do if one of us had to move out of the country, if we weren’t married?”
Hubby: ”Well, I guess we’d either rush and get married and move together or split up.”
Me: “Do you think we could have a long distance relationship?”
Hubby: “I guess we could give it a go. If you moved, you’d have to stay single over there and I’d try to stay single back here.”
(Notice the try part of that statement.)
Guess we’re even now.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
The Leg Bone's Connected to the Hip Bone...
It was the summer of 87 and I was all of 8 years old. I remember that I had just learned how to ride a bike (yeah, a little late in life- what can I say), but didn't have one of my own. Instead, I depended on my good old buddy, Jason, to allow me to mooch bike privileges from him. It was so freeing to ride around with my hair blowing in the breeze. Until the damn thing turned on me.
We were taking turns zooming down Jason's driveway, which was at least a 45 degree angle and I was up. I jumped on the banana seat and was off. Problem was, I didn't make that turn that should have put me into the street and on a straight path of smoothness. Instead, I slammed into the curb of the driveway across the street and flew over the handle bars, landing on the concrete curb. Immediately, my friends ran for my parents, who then came rushing out, picked me up, got us in the car and took off for the hospital. My leg had swollen up to the size of a small Chilean boy and HURT. I mean, HURT, y’all.
Like most hospitals, they gave me a toy when I was admitted to the ER to help take my mind of the swollen-ness and hurt-y-ness of my leg. It was a ragdoll with a green dress and apron that I instantly fell in love with. She’s still tucked away in the attic, safe in my trunk of memories to be shown to the future generations. Like they’ll care, but whatever.
Now, to explain a little more clearly, this wasn’t just any bone that I had broken. Oh, no. It was the femur. Which, for those of you who don’t know, that’s the thigh bone. And it also happens to be the largest one in your body.
I was laid up in traction for the next 6 weeks. A pin was pushed through my left calf, just below the knee and was attached to a pulley with 10lbs of sand suspended from it. This was supposed to straighten the leg and ensure proper healing. I don’t know who came up with the idea of correcting a bone this way, but I hope they didn’t quit their day job. It sucked. Then came the body cast. You know that trend from a few years ago, where people shoved one pant leg way up and let the other hang normally? Picture that. Only 50lbs heavier and itchier. Very much itchier.
Going home was probably the worst part. As much as I missed it, I knew it was going to be down hill from there. My sisters teased me unmercifully, tickling the toes that I couldn’t even reach, moreless protect. Sometimes, I was toted outside to watch the others go swimming in the backyard (Did I mention it was July? H.O.T.). It was torture. But, the most embarassing things were not of any of my sisters’ doings. School registration came up while I was still mending and my mom had to pull me around with her in my little red wagon. On top of that, or maybe I should say under that, I was forced to wear adult diapers. They were the only things that fit over my cast and covered up my nevermind. Wait. What? I didn’t tell you that the cast had a big hole cut in the crotch for bathroom purposes? Well, in that case, I won’t mention how my poor mother had to lay me across the commode in order to take care of business and that by the end of summer, all the toilets in our house were roughed up and the paint was gone from the harsh plaster scraping it. No, I don’t think I want to talk about that.
7 weeks later, it was time to get the thing cut off. Now, if you’ve had a cast removed, you’ll understand what I’m talking about. The nurse comes at you with a circular saw buzzing at about 200 miles and hour and tells you to lay still. Riiiight. They cut and I freaked, but soon it was done and the cast was off. Which exposed the flesh underneath. Which was not pretty. Sometime during the healing process, hairs had sprouted and grown, skin had dried and flaked. Course, I didn’t care at the time. Pronouncing myself well enough to go home, I jumped from the table and immediately dropped to the floor, like an anvil on Wile E. Coyote. Kerthump! The muscles had atrophied and it took months of physical therapy to get it all back in working order. Therapy that could be painful at times and was totally not fun.
But! Every cloud has a silver lining. I got to miss the first month and a half of 3rd grade.
It was sooo worth it.
We were taking turns zooming down Jason's driveway, which was at least a 45 degree angle and I was up. I jumped on the banana seat and was off. Problem was, I didn't make that turn that should have put me into the street and on a straight path of smoothness. Instead, I slammed into the curb of the driveway across the street and flew over the handle bars, landing on the concrete curb. Immediately, my friends ran for my parents, who then came rushing out, picked me up, got us in the car and took off for the hospital. My leg had swollen up to the size of a small Chilean boy and HURT. I mean, HURT, y’all.
Like most hospitals, they gave me a toy when I was admitted to the ER to help take my mind of the swollen-ness and hurt-y-ness of my leg. It was a ragdoll with a green dress and apron that I instantly fell in love with. She’s still tucked away in the attic, safe in my trunk of memories to be shown to the future generations. Like they’ll care, but whatever.
Now, to explain a little more clearly, this wasn’t just any bone that I had broken. Oh, no. It was the femur. Which, for those of you who don’t know, that’s the thigh bone. And it also happens to be the largest one in your body.
I was laid up in traction for the next 6 weeks. A pin was pushed through my left calf, just below the knee and was attached to a pulley with 10lbs of sand suspended from it. This was supposed to straighten the leg and ensure proper healing. I don’t know who came up with the idea of correcting a bone this way, but I hope they didn’t quit their day job. It sucked. Then came the body cast. You know that trend from a few years ago, where people shoved one pant leg way up and let the other hang normally? Picture that. Only 50lbs heavier and itchier. Very much itchier.
Going home was probably the worst part. As much as I missed it, I knew it was going to be down hill from there. My sisters teased me unmercifully, tickling the toes that I couldn’t even reach, moreless protect. Sometimes, I was toted outside to watch the others go swimming in the backyard (Did I mention it was July? H.O.T.). It was torture. But, the most embarassing things were not of any of my sisters’ doings. School registration came up while I was still mending and my mom had to pull me around with her in my little red wagon. On top of that, or maybe I should say under that, I was forced to wear adult diapers. They were the only things that fit over my cast and covered up my nevermind. Wait. What? I didn’t tell you that the cast had a big hole cut in the crotch for bathroom purposes? Well, in that case, I won’t mention how my poor mother had to lay me across the commode in order to take care of business and that by the end of summer, all the toilets in our house were roughed up and the paint was gone from the harsh plaster scraping it. No, I don’t think I want to talk about that.
7 weeks later, it was time to get the thing cut off. Now, if you’ve had a cast removed, you’ll understand what I’m talking about. The nurse comes at you with a circular saw buzzing at about 200 miles and hour and tells you to lay still. Riiiight. They cut and I freaked, but soon it was done and the cast was off. Which exposed the flesh underneath. Which was not pretty. Sometime during the healing process, hairs had sprouted and grown, skin had dried and flaked. Course, I didn’t care at the time. Pronouncing myself well enough to go home, I jumped from the table and immediately dropped to the floor, like an anvil on Wile E. Coyote. Kerthump! The muscles had atrophied and it took months of physical therapy to get it all back in working order. Therapy that could be painful at times and was totally not fun.
But! Every cloud has a silver lining. I got to miss the first month and a half of 3rd grade.
It was sooo worth it.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Fun With Song Lyrics #148275
(Unknown Reggae song playing on radio)
Andy (singing) : " If you need help, I'll throw you a goat..."
Kim: "A rope, honey. I'll throw you a rope."
Andy: "Oh, right. That makes more sense."
Andy (singing) : " If you need help, I'll throw you a goat..."
Kim: "A rope, honey. I'll throw you a rope."
Andy: "Oh, right. That makes more sense."
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Reunited and It Feels So Good...
Recently, I was surfing the net when I came across the website of an old friend from my middle and high school years. We didn’t go to school together, instead meeting in the church I attended with a neighboring family. We were pretty close back in the day, but I stopped attending services and shortly after, she got married. It had been 6 years since I saw or spoke to her last and, obviously, many things had changed, but talking to her sorta felt like coming home. I had missed her very much, but time had faded that feeling and talking to her brought it all rushing back.
Lucky for me, this isn’t the first time that I’ve been able to reconnect with a loved one that I believed was lost to me. Many moons ago, one of my bestest and oldest friends and I weren’t very close. We had been the greatest of buddies for so many years and then things changed. Growing up, outside relationships and immature emotions tore a hole in our friendship that I was afraid would never mend. However, God does smile on us humans, because a couple of years after our parting, we met again and the old spark of familiarity and bonding flared brighter than ever. After a few months and more than a few deep conversations, our relationship flourished. Now, it’s a rare day that I don’t count on this girlfriend to help me cope with life, love and family. My friendship with this particular woman is something that I am extremely proud of and have no intention of letting wane again. Kat, you are the voice of reason in this otherwise chaotic world and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I will make sure that nothing ever comes between us again. Love ya, girl.
It was just a year ago that another group of girls also came into my life after playing a smaller role many eons earlier. We attended high school together, but that was the extent of our knowledge of each other. Then, fates intervened and brought us all together again on an alumni website and we forged a friendship that I pray will last the rest of my natural life. This bunch of wild women is my support, encouragement and inspiration. In high school, we could not have been more different and most likely would not have hung out, even if given a chance. As adults, we’ve learned to appreciate the unique qualities in each other and it has brought us closer than we ever would have been if we’d met back then. It seems as though God knew we weren’t ready and He held us apart until the time was right. Liz, Casey, Hilary, and Stef, y’all are some of my closest friends that I know I can share anything with. Thank you for never judging and standing by me during the times that I’ve needed you most. I heart you.
Naturally, I don’t have the corner market on reunions. There have been some that, while I was not directly involved, have affected my life in a tremendous way. My parents had one such reunion. After 23 year of togetherness, my parents adruptly separated and divorced in 1999. I tried to act like it didn’t bother me, but the truth was it rocked my very world. I was one of the few whose parents had stayed married even AFTER the last kid made it through schooling. Up to the day they parted ways, they had been a hand holding, booty grabbing affectionate couple that this was NOT supposed to happen to. Fast forward 5 years. My mother and father are standing in a gazebo in a park, and a preacher is in front of them. They were remarried almost a year before Daddy’s passing. I could never believe how fortunate I was to be one of those kids whose parents really did reconcile. So many dream about it, but so few are that lucky. I have never been as grateful for anything as I am that my last memory of my Daddy was with my Momma.
You would think that with the inventions of the telephone and computer, remaining in touch with others wouldn’t be difficult. Yet everyday, people allow good relationships to grow stale until they eventually fade away into nothing. Work, hobbies, and daily routines become more important than connecting with those you love. It’s such a waste when we all could use a friend. Keeping the communication lines open is something I strive for and that will not change, no matter how much time has gone by.
There’s a Girl Scout camp song that goes, “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.” It’s never been summed up better, so I won’t try.
Lucky for me, this isn’t the first time that I’ve been able to reconnect with a loved one that I believed was lost to me. Many moons ago, one of my bestest and oldest friends and I weren’t very close. We had been the greatest of buddies for so many years and then things changed. Growing up, outside relationships and immature emotions tore a hole in our friendship that I was afraid would never mend. However, God does smile on us humans, because a couple of years after our parting, we met again and the old spark of familiarity and bonding flared brighter than ever. After a few months and more than a few deep conversations, our relationship flourished. Now, it’s a rare day that I don’t count on this girlfriend to help me cope with life, love and family. My friendship with this particular woman is something that I am extremely proud of and have no intention of letting wane again. Kat, you are the voice of reason in this otherwise chaotic world and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I will make sure that nothing ever comes between us again. Love ya, girl.
It was just a year ago that another group of girls also came into my life after playing a smaller role many eons earlier. We attended high school together, but that was the extent of our knowledge of each other. Then, fates intervened and brought us all together again on an alumni website and we forged a friendship that I pray will last the rest of my natural life. This bunch of wild women is my support, encouragement and inspiration. In high school, we could not have been more different and most likely would not have hung out, even if given a chance. As adults, we’ve learned to appreciate the unique qualities in each other and it has brought us closer than we ever would have been if we’d met back then. It seems as though God knew we weren’t ready and He held us apart until the time was right. Liz, Casey, Hilary, and Stef, y’all are some of my closest friends that I know I can share anything with. Thank you for never judging and standing by me during the times that I’ve needed you most. I heart you.
Naturally, I don’t have the corner market on reunions. There have been some that, while I was not directly involved, have affected my life in a tremendous way. My parents had one such reunion. After 23 year of togetherness, my parents adruptly separated and divorced in 1999. I tried to act like it didn’t bother me, but the truth was it rocked my very world. I was one of the few whose parents had stayed married even AFTER the last kid made it through schooling. Up to the day they parted ways, they had been a hand holding, booty grabbing affectionate couple that this was NOT supposed to happen to. Fast forward 5 years. My mother and father are standing in a gazebo in a park, and a preacher is in front of them. They were remarried almost a year before Daddy’s passing. I could never believe how fortunate I was to be one of those kids whose parents really did reconcile. So many dream about it, but so few are that lucky. I have never been as grateful for anything as I am that my last memory of my Daddy was with my Momma.
You would think that with the inventions of the telephone and computer, remaining in touch with others wouldn’t be difficult. Yet everyday, people allow good relationships to grow stale until they eventually fade away into nothing. Work, hobbies, and daily routines become more important than connecting with those you love. It’s such a waste when we all could use a friend. Keeping the communication lines open is something I strive for and that will not change, no matter how much time has gone by.
There’s a Girl Scout camp song that goes, “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.” It’s never been summed up better, so I won’t try.
Monday, June 26, 2006
A MeMe from SillyHily
A real post? Nope, I'm still stalling...
Here goes. Six weird things about me:
1. I am terrified of several silly things, like monsters under the bed and clowns. After watching Poltergeist with that CLOWN DOLL UNDER THE BED, can you blame me? Ever since then, I have jumped onto my bed from about 2 feet away. (And I made Andrew put the clown doll that his grandmother gave him in the attic. But, not just in the attic- it had to be tied into a garbage bag first.) Not to mention all those stories of rapists that hide under your bed and cut your achilles tendon (or whatever that muscle is), so you can’t stand up or walk. Some of that finally stopped after I got married, but even now, if I’m at home alone, NO WAY am I just walking right up to that bed. Huh uh. Who knows what may be under there?
2. I sucked my thumb until I was 12. I can’t remember if I revealed that little tidbit before, but there you have it. I had buck teeth and was almost put into braces. Kids made fun of me. Do the math- 12 years old is 7th grade. 7TH GRADE, people. Thank goodness for the Nintendo bribe from my parents or I might still be doing it. And thanks to my teeth for moving back to their rightful place before any brace/ retainer-esque intervention. This habit is still with me to a degree. When I’m in deep thought, I have a tendency to rub the bridge of my nose with my index finger. Course, key term here is "deep in thought", so don' t bother watching for it.
3. I HATE confrontations. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind speaking my mind and defending my opinions. BUT, those shows like 60 Minutes and 20/20? When they confront the child molesters and crooked store owners? It makes me cringe. I have had to leave the room, because my chest hurt so much just watching it. For some reason, I get all embarrassed and nervous for the person caught in the act, even if they are really bad people. I KNOW they DESERVE to be publicly humiliated and punished, but all I can think about is how scared and exposed they must be feeling at THAT moment. No hate mail, please. I am NOT DEFENDING anyone, especially not those internet predators.
4. I MUST FOLD every piece of laundry possible. The only thing I do not fold is my own underwear. Yup, that means that I DO fold Andy’s. In our house, even bras and socks get folded. Somehow it makes me feel better, knowing the dresser drawers are neat and tidy inside. However, I hate actually folding clothes. That’s why they just never get put away. It doesn’t seem to bother me that the ones still in the baskets are not folded. It’s just something about them in the drawers all strewn about and haphazard I can’t stand.
5. I refuse to eat beans. Andy makes fun of me because I can eat a whole bowl of chili and not one bean. When all else is gone, the beans will remain, like roaches after a nuclear bomb explosion. Unless, I manage to secretly scrape and mix them into Andy’s bowl when he’s not looking. (Oh, yes, I have.) Recently, I have been trying to slowly introduce beans into my diet, but it’s not working so well. The habit to avoid them is still there and so is the ambivalence. Unfortunately, Andy’s dad, Mr. B, is VERY BIG on the bean eating issue. More than once, we’ve argued over dinner, when he tried to spoon some on my plate.
6. I fantasize about.... swimming. A lot. I used to swim everyday growing up, when we had a huge in-ground pool. I learned quickly and was a pretty good swimmer by age 4. But, that house was sold about 11 years ago and now I don’t know anyone with a pool. Except my sister in law, and y’all already know how I feel about that. Having said this, I do not want a backyard with a pool, when it’s time to move from our current tent of a house. They are a ton of work, money, time and effort. I’d much rather have FRIENDS that have pools. (*hint*hint*)
Hmmm. You know, you never realize how bat-shit-crazy you sound until it’s actually written out in front of you. Gee.
Here goes. Six weird things about me:
1. I am terrified of several silly things, like monsters under the bed and clowns. After watching Poltergeist with that CLOWN DOLL UNDER THE BED, can you blame me? Ever since then, I have jumped onto my bed from about 2 feet away. (And I made Andrew put the clown doll that his grandmother gave him in the attic. But, not just in the attic- it had to be tied into a garbage bag first.) Not to mention all those stories of rapists that hide under your bed and cut your achilles tendon (or whatever that muscle is), so you can’t stand up or walk. Some of that finally stopped after I got married, but even now, if I’m at home alone, NO WAY am I just walking right up to that bed. Huh uh. Who knows what may be under there?
2. I sucked my thumb until I was 12. I can’t remember if I revealed that little tidbit before, but there you have it. I had buck teeth and was almost put into braces. Kids made fun of me. Do the math- 12 years old is 7th grade. 7TH GRADE, people. Thank goodness for the Nintendo bribe from my parents or I might still be doing it. And thanks to my teeth for moving back to their rightful place before any brace/ retainer-esque intervention. This habit is still with me to a degree. When I’m in deep thought, I have a tendency to rub the bridge of my nose with my index finger. Course, key term here is "deep in thought", so don' t bother watching for it.
3. I HATE confrontations. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind speaking my mind and defending my opinions. BUT, those shows like 60 Minutes and 20/20? When they confront the child molesters and crooked store owners? It makes me cringe. I have had to leave the room, because my chest hurt so much just watching it. For some reason, I get all embarrassed and nervous for the person caught in the act, even if they are really bad people. I KNOW they DESERVE to be publicly humiliated and punished, but all I can think about is how scared and exposed they must be feeling at THAT moment. No hate mail, please. I am NOT DEFENDING anyone, especially not those internet predators.
4. I MUST FOLD every piece of laundry possible. The only thing I do not fold is my own underwear. Yup, that means that I DO fold Andy’s. In our house, even bras and socks get folded. Somehow it makes me feel better, knowing the dresser drawers are neat and tidy inside. However, I hate actually folding clothes. That’s why they just never get put away. It doesn’t seem to bother me that the ones still in the baskets are not folded. It’s just something about them in the drawers all strewn about and haphazard I can’t stand.
5. I refuse to eat beans. Andy makes fun of me because I can eat a whole bowl of chili and not one bean. When all else is gone, the beans will remain, like roaches after a nuclear bomb explosion. Unless, I manage to secretly scrape and mix them into Andy’s bowl when he’s not looking. (Oh, yes, I have.) Recently, I have been trying to slowly introduce beans into my diet, but it’s not working so well. The habit to avoid them is still there and so is the ambivalence. Unfortunately, Andy’s dad, Mr. B, is VERY BIG on the bean eating issue. More than once, we’ve argued over dinner, when he tried to spoon some on my plate.
6. I fantasize about.... swimming. A lot. I used to swim everyday growing up, when we had a huge in-ground pool. I learned quickly and was a pretty good swimmer by age 4. But, that house was sold about 11 years ago and now I don’t know anyone with a pool. Except my sister in law, and y’all already know how I feel about that. Having said this, I do not want a backyard with a pool, when it’s time to move from our current tent of a house. They are a ton of work, money, time and effort. I’d much rather have FRIENDS that have pools. (*hint*hint*)
Hmmm. You know, you never realize how bat-shit-crazy you sound until it’s actually written out in front of you. Gee.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Lovin' the Memes.
HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW ME..
Here’s another quiz that WTHIT sent me a long time ago. I will try to post something a bit more substantial later today. If not then, maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. Eventually, I'm sure. Whatever.
Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. hostess at Pig-N-Whistle
2. receptionist at Airport Toyota
3. preschool teacher
4. insurance agent
Movies I would watch over & over:
1. Grease
2. Napoleon Dynamite
3. Joe Dirt
4. Little Women
Four tv shows I love to watch:
1. American Idol
2. The Office
3. CSI: Miami
4. That 70’s Show
Four places I have been on vacation:
1. New Smyrna Beach, FL
2. Gatlinburg, TN
3. New Orleans, LA
4. Hilton Head, SC
Four websites I visit daily:
1. All Blogs of Friends (see side bar)
2. Amalah
3. Go Fug Yourself
4. Celebrity Smack
Four of my favorite foods:
1. steak & potatoes
2. chicken enchiladas
3. those fried onion things at steakhouses
4. Uncle Bens' chicken flavored rice
Four places I would Rather be right now:
1. snuggled in bed with hubbie
2. spending time with my mom
3. shopping with friends
4. park with my doggie
Four songs that make me cry:
1. “Stand By Me" by Ben E. King
2. “Tears in Heaven" by Eric Clapton
3. "Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox" by Joe Diffie (played at Daddy’s funeral)
4. “Porcelain" by Red Hot Chili
Here’s another quiz that WTHIT sent me a long time ago. I will try to post something a bit more substantial later today. If not then, maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. Eventually, I'm sure. Whatever.
Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. hostess at Pig-N-Whistle
2. receptionist at Airport Toyota
3. preschool teacher
4. insurance agent
Movies I would watch over & over:
1. Grease
2. Napoleon Dynamite
3. Joe Dirt
4. Little Women
Four tv shows I love to watch:
1. American Idol
2. The Office
3. CSI: Miami
4. That 70’s Show
Four places I have been on vacation:
1. New Smyrna Beach, FL
2. Gatlinburg, TN
3. New Orleans, LA
4. Hilton Head, SC
Four websites I visit daily:
1. All Blogs of Friends (see side bar)
2. Amalah
3. Go Fug Yourself
4. Celebrity Smack
Four of my favorite foods:
1. steak & potatoes
2. chicken enchiladas
3. those fried onion things at steakhouses
4. Uncle Bens' chicken flavored rice
Four places I would Rather be right now:
1. snuggled in bed with hubbie
2. spending time with my mom
3. shopping with friends
4. park with my doggie
Four songs that make me cry:
1. “Stand By Me" by Ben E. King
2. “Tears in Heaven" by Eric Clapton
3. "Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox" by Joe Diffie (played at Daddy’s funeral)
4. “Porcelain" by Red Hot Chili
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Father's Day Special
This Sunday is Father’s Day. For me, this is the first Father’s Day without my Father. It’s only been 9 months since that day, but our family has already had to go through all the “first year days”, except Father’s Day (most of those firsts were within 4 months). Thanksgiving, Christmas, Daddy’s birthday, my parent’s anniversary, my birthday, all of the major holidays have come and gone. Heck, my sister’s birthday fell on the one full day that separated my Father’s and Grandmother’s passing. So, yeah, we’ve been through this before.
But for some reason, Father’s Day, I have a feeling, is going to be different. Not because of its importance, though it surely is that. Before Daddy died, we never really celebrated Father’s Day. It was always the same old ‘get them a card and call to say you love them’ routine. The problem is this is FATHER’S DAY. Everything is geared towards Dads. Every which way you look, there they are. Dads. Only, none of them are mine.
I have nowhere to mail a card this year. I have no one to call and tell that I love him. There is not going to be a Father’s Day dinner in my family’s house. It hurts my heart to know that I have to talk to a wooden box with only his name engraved upon the lid.
Therefore, I am dedicating this post to my wonderful Father, though he’ll never be able to read or see it. This is part of my way of honoring and remembering him.
You loved me with your whole heart.
You watched me learn and grow.
You taught me to be independent.
You laughed at my antics and jokes.
You disciplined my rebellious side.
You boosted my confidence and self esteem.
You pushed me to be the best person possible.
You showed me how to be strong.
You gave me courage to face all odds.
You supported me in my decisions.
You encouraged me when I was down.
You gave when I had nothing to give back.
You shared everything you had with me.
You walked me down the aisle at my wedding.
You guided me when I lost my way.
You picked me up after a stumble.
You spoiled me endlessly.
You made me who I am today.
You were everything a Father should be.
Happy Father’s Day.
But for some reason, Father’s Day, I have a feeling, is going to be different. Not because of its importance, though it surely is that. Before Daddy died, we never really celebrated Father’s Day. It was always the same old ‘get them a card and call to say you love them’ routine. The problem is this is FATHER’S DAY. Everything is geared towards Dads. Every which way you look, there they are. Dads. Only, none of them are mine.
I have nowhere to mail a card this year. I have no one to call and tell that I love him. There is not going to be a Father’s Day dinner in my family’s house. It hurts my heart to know that I have to talk to a wooden box with only his name engraved upon the lid.
Therefore, I am dedicating this post to my wonderful Father, though he’ll never be able to read or see it. This is part of my way of honoring and remembering him.
You loved me with your whole heart.
You watched me learn and grow.
You taught me to be independent.
You laughed at my antics and jokes.
You disciplined my rebellious side.
You boosted my confidence and self esteem.
You pushed me to be the best person possible.
You showed me how to be strong.
You gave me courage to face all odds.
You supported me in my decisions.
You encouraged me when I was down.
You gave when I had nothing to give back.
You shared everything you had with me.
You walked me down the aisle at my wedding.
You guided me when I lost my way.
You picked me up after a stumble.
You spoiled me endlessly.
You made me who I am today.
You were everything a Father should be.
Happy Father’s Day.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
What's for Dessert?
Okay, maybe some of you already know this, but I am head over freakin' heels in love with my husband. I met him at Wal-Mart many years ago and never looked back. He's been my rock and my strength, never moreso than the last few months. He's my soulmate without a doubt in my mind.
However, my love for him reached new heights this weekend. (WAIT! Before you report me for inappropriate content, that's not what I meant.) He said something to me that no man has ever said, which touched my heart deeply. No, it wasn't "I love you," "You're beautiful" or anything like that, which he does say regularly. (hmm, brag much, Kimpossible?) It was even BETTER.
As we were ordering our dinner, I was a bit tempted to include some sort of cookie/candy coated ice cream for dessert. Since, like most average people, I don't really NEED that extra sugar, my willpower kicked in and I decided to forgo it. Now, my husband had been waiting for me to finalize my order, so he wondered why I had chosen to give up my favorite treat. When I mentioned my reasoning, do you know what he said?
This man is awesome. Andy looked me straight in the eye and said, "I wouldn't mind if you gained a little weight."
WUHHHH???!!??
How in the world did I manage to get so lucky?
However, my love for him reached new heights this weekend. (WAIT! Before you report me for inappropriate content, that's not what I meant.) He said something to me that no man has ever said, which touched my heart deeply. No, it wasn't "I love you," "You're beautiful" or anything like that, which he does say regularly. (hmm, brag much, Kimpossible?) It was even BETTER.
As we were ordering our dinner, I was a bit tempted to include some sort of cookie/candy coated ice cream for dessert. Since, like most average people, I don't really NEED that extra sugar, my willpower kicked in and I decided to forgo it. Now, my husband had been waiting for me to finalize my order, so he wondered why I had chosen to give up my favorite treat. When I mentioned my reasoning, do you know what he said?
This man is awesome. Andy looked me straight in the eye and said, "I wouldn't mind if you gained a little weight."
WUHHHH???!!??
How in the world did I manage to get so lucky?
Friday, June 09, 2006
Sis
They have found suspicious lumps on my sister's cervix. She will go in for testing and perhaps biopsy next Wednesday, then we have to wait 2 weeks before the results are in. She is scared. My mom is scared. I am scared.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
School of Etiquette
One day last week, I held the door open for a man as we were leaving work. He commented to me that he thought everyone with manners was gone. I replied that, "No, we're here, you just have to find us."
This quick exchange got me thinking. I am always confused about some "mannerly" things, like the door holding. How close behind you does the person need to be before you'll hold the door? If they are further behind, do you let the door swing shut after you? Or, do you hold it anyway and force them into that akward run/ jog to catch up? If you decide to stand and hold the door, what do you say to them when they approach? This line of questioning can also be applied to the elevator. When to hold and when to fold? (and if you don't hold the door, do you talk to the others that made it in about those left behind?)
Another conundrum (great word, huh?) is how do you help someone that doesn't want assistance, but you know you should? We have this elderly man that lives next door to us, who is very independent. He is alone, except his daughter and son that come by to visit every couple of weeks. On several occasions, my husband has spotted this man attempting to carry his groceries from the car into the house. Obviously, Andy jumps right in to help, but is usually rewarded with the man telling him, loudly and firmly, that he can handle it and DOES NOT NEED HELP. But Andy knows that Mr. H can't do it all by himself, after all he's well into his 80's, is on oxygen and has serious problems walking, moreless navigating the stairs to the back door. Because he is a good southern boy, Andy convinces Mr. H to let him help, but you can see the begruding loss of independence on Mr. H's face. It makes you wonder if you are doing him a favor after all.
This segues to another topic: face issues. I don't know how to word it any better than that. What I mean is- what about people with stuff on their face? Do you tell them or just let it be and hope someone else lets the person know? Do you risk your own embarassment over having noticed the offense or try to not stare when they have a big boog a'hangin'? How about breath? Surely, everyone has had a conversation with someone that was a little too, ummm, close. Should you warn the masses of impending hallitosis doom? Or offer the mouth breather a mint?
Here's another one and this is for those of you in committed relationships- do these same rules apply to your partner? Is there door holding, even if your other half is lagging behind? Do you point out things to your significant other that you normally would not with a stranger? In our household, what needs to be said, gets said. So, if you've got dragon breath, I'm letting you know. I expect it to be reciprocal, after all, you don't want to run off the one person that wants to kiss and cuddle even after seeing you lick mayo off your own eyebrow.
This quick exchange got me thinking. I am always confused about some "mannerly" things, like the door holding. How close behind you does the person need to be before you'll hold the door? If they are further behind, do you let the door swing shut after you? Or, do you hold it anyway and force them into that akward run/ jog to catch up? If you decide to stand and hold the door, what do you say to them when they approach? This line of questioning can also be applied to the elevator. When to hold and when to fold? (and if you don't hold the door, do you talk to the others that made it in about those left behind?)
Another conundrum (great word, huh?) is how do you help someone that doesn't want assistance, but you know you should? We have this elderly man that lives next door to us, who is very independent. He is alone, except his daughter and son that come by to visit every couple of weeks. On several occasions, my husband has spotted this man attempting to carry his groceries from the car into the house. Obviously, Andy jumps right in to help, but is usually rewarded with the man telling him, loudly and firmly, that he can handle it and DOES NOT NEED HELP. But Andy knows that Mr. H can't do it all by himself, after all he's well into his 80's, is on oxygen and has serious problems walking, moreless navigating the stairs to the back door. Because he is a good southern boy, Andy convinces Mr. H to let him help, but you can see the begruding loss of independence on Mr. H's face. It makes you wonder if you are doing him a favor after all.
This segues to another topic: face issues. I don't know how to word it any better than that. What I mean is- what about people with stuff on their face? Do you tell them or just let it be and hope someone else lets the person know? Do you risk your own embarassment over having noticed the offense or try to not stare when they have a big boog a'hangin'? How about breath? Surely, everyone has had a conversation with someone that was a little too, ummm, close. Should you warn the masses of impending hallitosis doom? Or offer the mouth breather a mint?
Here's another one and this is for those of you in committed relationships- do these same rules apply to your partner? Is there door holding, even if your other half is lagging behind? Do you point out things to your significant other that you normally would not with a stranger? In our household, what needs to be said, gets said. So, if you've got dragon breath, I'm letting you know. I expect it to be reciprocal, after all, you don't want to run off the one person that wants to kiss and cuddle even after seeing you lick mayo off your own eyebrow.
MeMe
I am – creative.
I want – world dominance.
I wish - I could see the future.
I miss – my Dad.
I fear - death and whatever lies on the other side.
I hear – horrible elevator muzak. I can even hear it in my dreams.
I wonder - when it'll be my turn.
I regret – giving up on school, but not enough to go back.
I am not – emotional.
I dance – when I clean my house (in my underwear).
I sing – when I drive.
I cry – by myself.
I am not always – ambitious.
I make with my hands – I plead the fifth. (we'll go with peanut butter sandwiches)
I write – letters when I am angry at someone. Then I rip them up.
I confuse – the expressways through town.
I need – time alone.
I should – exercise.
I start – big projects that I HATE finishing.
I finish – big projects that I SHOULD NEVER HAVE STARTED.
I want – world dominance.
I wish - I could see the future.
I miss – my Dad.
I fear - death and whatever lies on the other side.
I hear – horrible elevator muzak. I can even hear it in my dreams.
I wonder - when it'll be my turn.
I regret – giving up on school, but not enough to go back.
I am not – emotional.
I dance – when I clean my house (in my underwear).
I sing – when I drive.
I cry – by myself.
I am not always – ambitious.
I make with my hands – I plead the fifth. (we'll go with peanut butter sandwiches)
I write – letters when I am angry at someone. Then I rip them up.
I confuse – the expressways through town.
I need – time alone.
I should – exercise.
I start – big projects that I HATE finishing.
I finish – big projects that I SHOULD NEVER HAVE STARTED.
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