Night on the Town

After my parents left yesterday from their Thanksgiving visit, I had time to go to my girlfriend's house to take her family photo for Christmas cards. Surprisingly JA asked me months ago to take the family picture - why is clearly beyond me, but I was more than happy to help! After jumping, I mean standing, all over their furniture and having a picture removed from the wall, I think JA had a photo worthy of keeping! She did tell me that maybe I should take photography classes to get better handle on taking pictures, maybe she's onto something!

Less than ten minutes after I got home, TS arrived at the house for the remainder of the weekend. It is the first time that TS has ever been to my house, so I was pretty excited. We hit the local bowling alley for some much needed beer and for my usual ass kicking in bowling. Of course she didn't let me down!

We came back to the house to hangout and try to figure out our next plan of action, since it was pretty early. Several other friends joined us at my house and we finally hit the town. I have to say that I seldom go to the bars, especially in "my town".

We ventured out and hit a nearby bar that I hadn't been to in almost a decade. When we walked in there was a side room of the bar and a few people were playing a Wii. After we ordered our first round, the Wii became available and we headed over to give it a try. Four of the five of us were Wii virgins. We had a great time playing bowling and baseball. When we finished the Wii there were actually games in this room as well and we played Trivia Pursuit for Dummies. I have to say, we had a blast. I love playing games and hanging out and I loved the fact that TS didn't even have to go outside to smoke!


We left that bar and headed off to the karaoke bar. Three sang karaoke while two of us opted for pool. Clearly we were all shocked when last call was at 12:45p.m. and we were all pushed out of the bar at 1:00p.m. prompt. The cool thing, a local church in the area offers free rides for you and your car, within a ten mile radius to be sure that everyone gets home safe! They also state, No Tipping. How cool is that?


We left that bar and headed to where everyone seemed to be going next. That bar actually had karaoke too, but about ten minutes after we got there, they were announcing last call! If a bar closes at 2a.m., why is last call at 1:20a.m.? So bizarre. I have to say that I found the elderly man in the cowboy hat that was smitten with dancing with JN almost as amusing as this sign posted on the wall:





With alcoholic munchies we headed to Meijer to pick up some more alcohol and refrigerated (they do exist!) hash browns. What I found in the parking lot left me pondering, what?



We came back to the house and ransacked the food making scrambled eggs and hash browns and eating leftover turkey, fluff and pumpkin pie. After some small convincing that everyone should stay the night, we drank more and played a very close and competitive game of Cranium Wow!




Nothing beats a great evening of good friends, good laughs, good times, good drinks and great memories!

Black Friday

For the first time in several years, I found myself all snuggled and warm in my bed during the wee morning hours of Black Friday. I had scanned all the black Friday ads the night before, several times in addition to checking out the websites days before.

There just wasn't anything that seemed worthy enough to drag myself out of bed to deal with lines, rude people and missed deals. Nothing that warranted leaving my safe cocoon of blankets and pj's on a blistering cold, yet not snowy morning, to fight the fight.

And I'm not sorry at all.

Mom and I did manage to hit some of the stores by 11:30a.m. There were a few things that I was interested in - a Wii, Wii fitness, Nano Ipod, and a GPS but again nothing that I had to have, especially at 4a.m.! I did manage to get a Wii as well as a GPS; however, I think tomorrow I'm getting the Garmin 750 instead of the Garmin 200 that I purchased. Seeing that my son decided maybe we should get an MP3 player for the cost difference of an IPod that will work in my car, I figured I would be better off getting a GPS with a built in MP3 player. Sounds like a good idea at least.

I didn't have to fight any crowds. I even picked up a few extra things and didn't have to stand in any long lines. At the first store, I patiently waited in line and had my first interaction with rudeness...Why did I go out on Black Friday? I had left enough room between the person in front of me and myself (mind you there were only four people in my line!) and this middle aged woman and her mother kept moving lines looking for the fastest. The mother walked between myself and the customer in front of me to get to the next line. The adult daughter stopped in front of me and asked me if I was in line. What? Seriously.

I politely answered yes, while my not so polite mother snickered. Apparently not to this woman's liking as she made sure she was loud enough to her mother to comment, "I didn't think it was funny. Oh how rude." She made a few more snarky remarks.

Man how I not only love shopping, I love being around strangers shopping for the holiday (Of course that comment was heavily decorated with sarcasm and a large bow on top!)!

Editing

I would have to say that I'm not the biggest fan of editing. I will occasionally proof my own writings, reports or ramblings, but not always. Especially not in my blog. My blog is just something that I slap together my current thoughts, throw it out there and move on.

This week seems to be editing request week. My "homework" the other day for my son was to proofread and edit his essay on the movie, "March of the Penguins". Seeing that he's in the 6th grade, I figured I wasn't the best of people to ask, but due to lack of anyone else in the home, I won by default.

My dad taught English in college for a year or two (possibly more). Maybe I inherited some of his skills, I doubt it though. I enjoy reading and writing, to an extent. In college I took a professional writing class and learned of different writing techniques. Some I use today, other's not so much out of laziness.

I received an email the other day from a "friend" that is applying to law school. Attached to the email was the personal essay and the email requested that I read the essay and offer input, insight and editing. Mind you, it was hard enough bringing myself down to a 6th grade level, but now put myself in the shoes of a law student applicant?

I don't know this person well enough to know how much editing they could handle. When people ask for help or an opinion, do they really want to know it? Or are you suppose to respond with the generic acceptance as you would about someone's new haircut or outfit?

Regardless, that's not me. If someone asks for my opinion or my help, that's what they get. Not always filtered and always pretty blunt and straight-forward. I have tried to tone down my approach, especially for those that I feel are more emotional or unable to handle the entire truth.

So, I found myself editing a personal essay, on Thanksgiving, about someone that I really don't know. Putting myself in their shoes as well as the board who would be reviewing the essay. I did try not to change the essay too much, but offered insight as well as a revised essay with suggestions.

And then I waited. Waited to get an email. Waited to see if the phone would ring. Waited for some acknowledgment of my revisions and suggestions. Waited to see if I offended this person so much that I would never hear back from them. Waited.

This evening I received a call saying that in my email inbox was another draft of the essay. No explanation of what the revisions were or my suggestions had been. But, figured it must not have been too bad since I not only received a call but another draft to read and offer my "emotional" take on the essay.

Here lies the problem. Edit I can do. Proof I can do. Revise I can do. Offer my emotional response to reading an essay, not so easy.

When I opened up the draft, I was slightly surprised that the majority of my editing and suggestions had been taken. Of course there were other changes that I would make to the newly added information, but I did manage to do my best and didn't send a bolded, marked up essay attached to my email response. I sent an email with suggestions and what I felt after I concluded the essay.

Overall though, I'm still not sure what it means that people would ask me for advice on editing!

Thanksgiving

On a happier note, Thanksgiving Day turned out fabulous. The food was beyond delicious and it was all cooked and even still warm!

I felt a little lost in the kitchen since I didn't have much left to do while the turkey was cooking. I watched some of the Detroit Lions massacre and hung out with the family. I decided that my two boxes of Stove Top stuffing wasn't going to be enough to stuff the turkey so I made the stuffing from scratch!

My son raved about the stuffing! He loved it! I have to admit that the turkey was pretty fantastic too, with even the white meat being juicy!

What more can one ask for then being in the company of loved ones sharing a fabulous meal!

Temporary Thanksgiving Tirade

Thanksgiving should be a day of giving thanks. A day for appreciating our family and friends. A day to extend our love for who we are, what we have become and even what we have - tangible and not.

Unfortunately by mid-morning, I found myself in a Thanksgiving tirade. I was distraught after receiving a call that a good friend's father had a "stroke" (later determined to be an aneurysm) and was in the hospital. In lieu of the message and Thanksgiving Day, it seemed only fitting to call my own father to wish him and his wife a happy Thanksgiving.

I wish that it was as easy as that; however, the conversation with my step-mother left me extremely angry. She proceeded to carry on to say that she didn't know what to do with my ailing father. He hadn't taken his medication in sometime, including his insulin in at least a week. She was threatening him by telling him his kids should come down and discuss putting him in a nursing home. She whined about what to do and how she was just frustrated and at a loss. Mind you, every time (did I mention EVERY TIME) I speak with my step-mom, I hear the SAME story?

I have offered suggestions. I have offered support. I have offered nothing and only listened. I don't know what else to do.

So I did something for the first time. I got angry. Very angry. So angry on Thanksgiving Day that I was yelling and screaming expletives, while my parents and son sat in the other room looking shocked and horrified. I had had enough. I was tired of listening to the broken record. Tired of her saying that as a grown man, she shouldn't have to open his pill bottles or make him take his medication.

So let him die. Leave him and let him die or continue to stand by him and watch but clearly don't help. Don't help him to live.

My anger even went so far as to say that as his wife, she made a commitment to help him through sickness and in health. She threw the daughter card at me and said that I wasn't doing enough for him. Absolutely, she was correct! I don't live with him! He is not my husband!

The conversation was ended shortly after with me wishing her a Happy Thanksgiving and giving her my love. My father, apparently par for him, was still in bed and wouldn't be getting out of bed until about 2p.m. Apparently another reason that he doesn't take his morning medication, because she leaves for work at 1p.m. Anyway, I asked her to wish my dad a Happy Thanksgiving as well.

After I hung up the phone, angry and upset I stopped cutting 1/2" bread cubes for my last minute decision to make homemade stuffing and I cried. I cried because I was so upset. Wasn't it suppose to be a Happy Thanksgiving?

Some eight hours later, my dad called me back. He mentioned that maybe he should have answered my call since he was awake. He then proceeded to tell me that it's just too much to take 18 pills at a time. He just gets tired of it all and has to decide which path he wants to take. That it is his choice and his responsibility to take his medication, not his wife's and not his children's.

While this is true for someone who is medically and physically competent, it would not be true for my father. It appeared that his phone call and response to me had been "coached" and rehearsed. For when he said what he needed to, he couldn't answer my questions or follow the conversation and he said he had to go.

It just makes me sad. How so many people choose to live and will do anything to increase their livelihoods and quality of life to no avail while others...

Loud Love

I have created new terminology...Loud Love.

Loud Love should not be confused with overly zealous, expressive, intense forms of intimacy.

My parents both turned 60 this year. My step-dad claims of ailing ears and often speaks extra loud, possibly borderline yelling. My mother has a very boisterous speaking voice. Therefore, when the two of them communicate, it could easily be misconstrued for arguing or disagreeing.

I prefer to term it...Loud Love. It just sounds more endearing...

Shopping Issues

It's time for me to rant (not in an angry yelling ranting way, but a diatribe way) about my shopping issues. While some of you may not realize this, I do have issues.

And lots of them.

There are some things that I have to have in a certain kind of way. I have to have all of the cupboards shut. I hate when lights are left on in a room, unless it's a soft light or lamp to navigate around the house. I hate when the toilet lid is left up. I hate slow drivers in the fast lane. I could list a million other potentially OCD traits and issues that I have, but I won't, not yet anyway.

I hate shopping. Unless I'm at the grocery store, then I meander in my own merry way racing through my mind of what I have, what I need, what I want and often referencing my grocery list of sorts. I price check between sale items, name brand and off brand. I love numbers. Regardless of the amount of items, by the time I check out, I will recognize or remember every price of every item I purchase. So yes, I am one of those scan law people.

Another thing I can't stand is when people put items back that they don't want in the wrong place. In an effort to purchase more chocolate cool whip, I noticed the stack and grabbed the top one.

For some reason, there were a ton of open register lanes. I also have a thing with bagging my refrigerated items together, freezer items, non-perishables, etc. In an effort that the cashier will bag in a similar fashion, I put the items together on the conveyor belt. Seldom is it bagged the way I would bag.

After I started putting my groceries on the belt, a woman gets in line behind me. I realize that I have a lite cool whip, not chocolate and inform the lady and suggest that she may want to go to another line as I need to exchange the item.

When I got back to my cart, it was empty! Someone thinking they were doing a good thing (likely the lady behind me as the cashier didn't seem motivated enough to tighten her velcro shoes...) had put all of my groceries onto the belt. Mind you, I was not thankful. My groceries, my time, my stuff - did I ask for help?

I have to say I was more than a little annoyed. I wasn't able to watch all of the prices on the monitor as they were being wrung up. I wasn't able to have my groceries attempted to be bagged the way I wanted them.

Did I miss the fact that I was wearing a sign across my forehead saying, "Welcoming your assistance for Good Samaritan Day?"

I did realize that I was overcharged for at least one of my items and I had to rummage through the bag to find it.

I think it comes down to being nice or doing something for self-serving reasons. There is nothing wrong with paying it forward, just be sure that what you plan to do is something that someone would actually want and appreciate. Otherwise, sometimes it's best to be a little patient and let people do things their own way.

'Tis the Season for Shopping...Is it January yet?

Shower Surround Remodel

On Friday, in honor of my birthday(s) present to myself, I had a new shower surround installed. I really do like it! Actually, anything (well almost anything) would have been better than what I had. I know that it could have been worse, but I was tired of the different hardware, the discolored walls and the caulk.

I had a 4" tile, one piece acrylic surround installed. The installation included replacing the tub hardware, switching the new hardware for the existing unreplaced hardware, updating the plumbing lines, switching the lines, raising the shower and shower head, and installing a built in curved shower rod.

I have to admit (yes, I do admit and acknowledge my issues) that I'm not the easiest of customers. If I know what I want, I want it. The tub hardware to be installed in my brass bathroom, was going to be chrome. Mr. Tub asked if that was OK. WHAT? How in the world would that be remotely acceptable? Fortunately for Mr. Tub he had an extra brass drain kit in his truck or else he may have suffered some limb damage.

I remembered to mention to Mr. Tub that the hot and cold water lines were backwards. Mr. Tub didn't want to believe me. I'm pretty sure after nine years, I know if the hot water is backwards (I think). To verify, I made a few calls and proved that it was in fact backwards. Mr. Tub was still leery (afterall I'm just a dumb girl) - why he didn't turn the water on for himself, I'm really not sure. Needless to say, Mr. Tub switched and soldered the lines, and now the lines are...wrong. WHAT? I have no idea how in the world that is possible, but what's another nine years with it being wrong?

I did forget to mention that the shower head was to be raised. How is a girl suppose to remember everything? He raised it a few inches, but nothing too significant.

The walls were sound other than some rotting behind the hardware/faucet wall, which Mr. Tub willingly replaced. He also lowered the downspout to eliminate splashage (what a guy!).

During the process, I occasionally snuck in to take a peek and a picture of the process. Mr. Tub admitted that he is NOT a fan of the 4" tile. Great. He said even with the squeegee that water stays in the grout lines. Too late now.

I have to say I do really like the shower. My biggest complaint...the curved shower curtain rod. I guess I'm not that trendy. My son LOVES it. However, it's chrome. Why in the world would I have purchased a chrome/stainless steel shower curtain rod? After a few phone calls with the salesman, I left it that it was completely unacceptable. Brass or white. Apparently the rod doesn't come in either, hmmm... So Mr. Tub actually went to Menards to find me another shower rod. He came back with some built in two-track contraption in white that I just wasn't fond of. So he put back up the curved one and I'll wait for my straight brass rod replacement. Regardless of the color, I am not a fan of the curved rod. It shows the shower wall. I'm pretty sure it's too late to change my mind now with the drilling holes where they are, so I'll forever show shower wall. Sigh...such is life I suppose.

Healthy Apple Dip

Along the lines of recipes, another of our long-time favorite snack came from a presentation on Healthy Snacks over 10 years ago.

While I do not agree with the comparison, "If you like caramel apple dip, here's a healthy alternative.", it has become a staple snack throughout the years in our home. I do have to admit that when I first heard the recipe, I thought it sounded rather...disgusting.

Apple Dip:
Peanut Butter
Yogurt (Vanilla or any flavor)
Apple Slices

Like the fluff recipe, we switch this up every time as well. The directions call for equal amounts of peanut butter to yogurt. Feel free to experiment if you want it creamier, add more yogurt. My favorite is adding vanilla yogurt, but for variations, add any flavored yogurt.

A healthy simple snack that kids and adults love!

Fluff

My son loves Fluff. Not the traditional pistachio fluff that many have for holidays or Watergate salad as it is often called, you know, the fluffy stuff with marshmallows and/or nuts...

The fluff my son loves, is a quick and easy recipe that I was introduced to about 6 years ago. One that due to my crude directions, is slightly different every time I make it. In addition to the directions, or lack thereof, it's different due to the variety and experimental change. The fluff recipe that I have came from Cindy R. and Weight Watchers.

For the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday I decided that maybe I would try a cranberry fluff. Seeing that I am not a fan of cranberries, I thought adding my favorite - chocolate - would make it pretty yummy. I have to admit that this is one of my favorite fluff concoctions, so far. It reminds me of a melted Wendy's frosty. Or maybe it's because it's not completely fat free! Prior to my cranberry attempts, one of my favorites is raspberry with pineapple, but I've tried a good dozen if not more variations over the years.

Pretty much the recipe is fool proof.

Chocolate Cran-Ras Fluff:
1 pkg. Sugar Free Cranberry Jello (Use any flavor/sugar free or not)
1 pkg. Sugar Free Chocolate Fudge Pudding (Use any flavor/sugar free or not)
1 Cup Raspberries (Use any fruit/frozen or fresh - drain juice)
1 8oz. Chocolate Cool Whip (Use any flavor/fat free or not)

Here's where the crude part comes in, since I think I believed at the time that I did short-hand directions I would actually remember what they meant!

Make the jello and refrigerate. When the jello begins to solidify, beat in the pudding (just the dry package - not prepared jello). Refrigerate. Fold in fruit. Mix in the Cool Whip. DONE.

I've refrigerated longer and shorter and the results do not appear to make much of a difference. Be sure that the jello is starting to thicken before adding the pudding, but short of being jello.

Feel free to explore. From healthier options to not so much. While this can be considered a "salad" or a dessert, clearly by adding the chocolate cool whip it is a dessert.

My son LOVES fluff and he enjoys switching up all of the ingredients for a different treat, every time!

Enjoy!

Wanting & Wishing, Always

Is it too much to want? Too much to want more? More than the standard, more than the obvious? Is it too much to occasionally want to feel wanted? To feel loved? To feel needed?

Maybe it is. Maybe I want that fairy tale feeling (minus the Rapunzel long-hair). The feeling that I'm the only woman in the world, the only woman in the room (Oh wait, I WAS the only woman in the room). All of this regardless of the need to feel independent, and non-needy in an I'm Every Woman type of way.

So when Mr. Date said to me tonight, "'Comon lets go to bed.", as I had fallen fast and hard asleep next to him on the couch, all I could think of was, "Is this all?"

So as I scrambled to my feet with my contacts half glued to my squinty, half-opened eyes, I decided I was leaving. Leaving because I wanted to stay. Leaving because I wanted more. Leaving because more than anything I wanted to feel his warm hand caress my cheek and have him lovingly look at me and tell me how much he wanted me to stay. How much it would mean to him. How much I mean to him (something in person; a non email/im discussion).

And as I grabbed my things to go, hoping for him to say something, ready to go to my car to grab my overnight bag in exchange for the cooking utensils sitting on the table, he said, "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

What is a girl to do? So I did only what I know best to do. I hugged him, thanked him for the flowers, and with my head held high I walked out the door and didn't let it hit me in the ass on the way out. And then, I sat in my car hoping that he would run out to stop me or that he would call (a girl can DREAM, right?), and with all my stubbornness and pride, I backed out of the parking lot and drove home.

Weather

Last Friday, I had my son rake the yard. While it wasn't as good as I would have done it, it saved me a tremendous amount of time! I came home and raked the remainder part of the yard and put all the leaves down at the curb for removal.

Monday, I came home from work to park on those very same leaves at the curb, newly covered with inches of snow. There was so much snow, that I even started up my newly reassembled snow blower to plow the driveway!

Seriously, I'm not ready for winter! I haven't even put away my fall outdoor decorations that are now covered in snow. I really hope that this early heavy snow isn't a sign for the entire winter season.

If it is, I'm ready to hibernate for the winter now!

Biggest Loser

I am a HUGE Biggest Loser fan. I LOVE the Biggest Loser. It is the only show that I religiously watch on television. Well actually, I think it's the only show I watch.

There are other shows that I sit in zombie-like style staring at the television that my son has on, but not watching.

I wish that I could shed the pounds in the same fashion. I wish that I could shed any pounds! I find the background stories completely inspirational. I am in awe by their motivation, drive and determination. I am also envious that they have 24/7 to devote to making themselves better. I also have guilt by eating during the show and not working out. If they can do it, SO CAN I!

I have to say that tonight I was disappointed by Colleen's departure. I think it was poor game play and strategy for Amy to keep Vicky, but I do get it; however, I think that the house would have been much more harmonious with Vicky gone.

Anyway, I do have to express my one issue with BL...enough with the commercials already! Is it really necessary to drag the show out consistently every week to fill two hours? I'm beginning to lose interest, which I never thought possible.

On an exercise note, last year I bought Jillian's 5-DVD collection of workout videos. I even bought a step, since it was necessary to do some of the videos. I can admit that I only used the step once. But, I LOVE her Cardio Kick Boxing video. It's the only video of hers that I like although I have to admit that I haven't really even watched all of them! So with that being said, I decided that I needed to start pushing myself more and try another one of the videos. Tonight I did the Maximize - Full Frontal video and I have to say that I did better than I had anticipated.

Additionally, during the commercials of the first hour (well five commercials that is) I also did the step. I did over a 1000 (since I managed to lose count a few times), 200 during each commercial break.

Too bad the scale won't reflect anything when I drag by large, well anyway, self onto it!

Babies, Babies, Babies

I'm completely surrounded by babies, or pregnant friends. I can't even count how many women are pregnant, I don't think I have enough fingers and toes! Monday we had a shower for TW, who is due later this month. Another co-worker brought in her beautiful baby girl, not even a month old. Whether I like it or not, babies will be everywhere!


This past weekend LL and her two daughters came for a fabulous visit. LL hadn't been out to visit since I bought my house in 1999! I loved having her and the kids here. Her youngest daughter is now four months old and this was the first time that I met her. She is absolutely fabulous! I love that age; where they are able to smile and laugh and not talk back or talk in babble that you can't understand!


On Saturday another high school girlfriend came over for a few hours. It was great fun just chatting and catching up with each other. The paths that we have taken, the roads that we have veered upon, the lives that we live, the memories we will never forget. DR didn't bring any of her four kids, so it allowed us to have some great and much needed adult time and conversations!

To great friends and memories of past and memories yet to come...

Three Little Pigs

Three Little Pigs went out to dinner one night. The waiter came and took their drink order.
'I would like a Sprite,' said the first little piggy.
'I would like a Coke,' said the second little piggy.
'I want beer, lots and lots of beer,' said the third little piggy.

The drinks were brought out and the waiter took their orders for dinner.

'I want a nice big steak,' said the first piggy.
'I would like the salad plate,' said the second piggy.
'I want beer, lots and lots of beer,' said the third little piggy.

The meals were brought out and a while later the waiter approached the table and asked if the piggies would like any dessert.

'I want a banana split,' said the first piggy.
'I want a cheesecake,' said the second piggy.
'I want beer, lots and lots of beer,' exclaimed the third little piggy.

'Pardon me for asking, said the waiter to the third little piggy, 'But why have you only ordered beer all evening?'

The third piggy says, 'Well, somebody has to go 'Wee, wee, wee, all the way home!'

Scare

Last night I had the discussion about fears and things that scare me. I took the conversation in a direction of things that I don't necessarily like but that I'm not really fearful (or help of dramamine overcome) like spiders, snakes, heights, etc. Apparently I was avoiding the question as it was relating to relationships.

This morning as I locked my house and turned around to walk to my garage, I was completely SCARED.

Completely breathtaking, taken aback, heart pulsating scared for a very brief split second.

Out of my slightly ajar garbage can (due to the long tree branch) scurried a squirrel.

Damn squirrel.

New Year Challenge

Of course it isn't the New Year so New Years Resolution is far from fitting. It is however, the beginning of my new birth year, so what better time than to start a new challenge for myself?

I've never really been one to diet. I think I know enough about eating healthy (proper nutrition), and exercise to be healthy. But somehow, I seem to always fall short. Short of that weight loss goal.

It could be that I've never fully committed to a program. I can't say that I've ever been on a diet (other than a "see food" diet). I have attempted to do the Richard Simmons Food Mover program many years ago, but even that wasn't really a diet. It was making a conscious effort to record, or move the pieces, your daily food intake . It was acknowledging what you ate, similar to a food journal without the writing/journal part.

I did manage to lose about 30 pounds between exercising and making healthier lifestyle changes. However, now I seem to get into funks. I get to busy with life to exercise or eat right or drink water. I let things slide and it's usually my health and fitness.

On the other side of things, when I do work out, I'm a freak. I push myself extremely hard and want to get the most out of myself and my body. Not to the point of physical exertion, but there are some things in the gym that I could push my self closer to the point of fatigue, but I don't. I'm still having issues with machines not being able to record my pulse or heart rate. I think I've decided that my pulse is too high to record. I'm not sure the highest threshold of machines, but the last recording that mine read was 159 before it couldn't read it any longer.

A couple years ago I set a goal for myself that if I lost 20 pounds I would go to Aruba. I never met that goal. I came within 5 pounds.

Over the past weekend I decided to resurrect my personal goal. I had 18 pounds to lose as of Friday, even Sunday night. As of Tuesday (numb, disconnected and suffering relationship issues) I only have to lose 13 pounds. So since a trip wasn't incentive enough, I incorporated the fact that if Mr. Date and I didn't work out, I wouldn't try the dating thing again until my son was graduated from high school and/or I've decided that I will not meet or date anyone (new) until I've reached my weight loss goal.

The last thing I want to do is to consider dating. I didn't set my goal to be purposely sabotaging to either my weight loss efforts or to my relationship efforts (or lack thereof), it's more just a matter of me focusing on me and making exercise and nutrition a priority, again. I'm clearly not in any position or desire to date.
In my eyes, it's my way of making myself important enough to achieve a goal. Granted this time around, I think I'm going to pursue the help of a personal trainer to actually do it right!

It isn't about another relationship, it's about healing from the hurts and wounds of a relationship and determining how and when to pick up the pieces and what direction to head next. It's about incorporating healthy choices to increase my physical fitness and physique. It's about being the best that I can be. And because right now, I'm still not convinced that maybe I want to turn back around.

Procreation

I'm pretty sure that I do not want to have a baby. Pretty sure.

The ability to be able to determine that you will never be able to procreate again, is huge. I always thought that by some freak of nature or horrible unfortunate happenstance, I wouldn't be able to have a child. Not that I thought that I was invincible at the time so I could be reckless, I just didn't think that I would be given the opportunity to raise another human being. A human being of my flesh, my body, a part of me.

Then as the years have gone by since the birth of my son, the thought has crossed my mind that if I ever did find someone that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with or have another child with, maybe by some twist of fate, I wouldn't be able to. Maybe it would be a punishment for finally wanting, I would be left barren.

I've been contemplating making the choice to never have the opportunity to know if I could ever conceive another child. It clearly isn't something I take lightly. The thought of never seeing another offspring with my sarcastic sense of humor, dark features, intelligence or lack thereof...maybe it's a good thing. I'm pretty sure I don't want to go back to the sleepless nights or the chance that my child would have medical issues that would leave me struggling if I could parent.

I had the opportunity to meet a 25-year old woman today, who had just given birth to her sixth child prematurely two months ago. It made me think more about the possibility of giving birth. None of her children currently reside with her and the youngest has severe medical issues and is still in the hospital.

I can't say that solidified my choice. Clearly it isn't a choice I have to make today, or even tomorrow. But knowing that whatever I choose, I have the ability and the capacity to care for a child. And right now, I believe I have a choice. If I choose to never be able to have a child, that never is forever. I'm not sure that my pretty sure is pretty sure forever.

Baby Meat

Tonight I celebrated my 34th birthday. To some that may be young. To others maybe they will say 34 years young or others yet will claim not a day over 29. I'm completely OK with the truth. Maybe because as of now, I'm not a day over 34.


Anyway, digressing, JN and I went out to a "new" bistro in town. I happened to drive by the bistro a few months back so I decided maybe we should check it out. In reality, the bistro has been open since January! I met her there after my meeting. We were both very impressed with the bistro and the food.


Our conversation was filled with laughs and entertainment. And...I learned again how truly dumb (err naive, uneducated, or?) I am.


Here's the thing, I ordered veal.







For the past 34 years...I had no idea what veal was! I was especially confused when the waitress asked how I would like my veal prepared, recommending medium rare. What???

Isn't veal like the sister white meat to pork? Maybe it's the ugly step-sister to pork. (Yeah, that's it.)


So seriously, for the first time in my short 34 years, I've learned that veal is...Baby Cow!

I have to say that the food was delicious. But my new confirmation of baby cow led to further discussion:

Cow = Beef
Pig = Pork
Deer = Venison
Lamb = ?

I thought it was veal. Probably because when people say would you like lamb chops or veal chops, I assumed that they were one in the same. Maybe a slightly different shank. So I also learned that lamb is Mutton. In my mind lamb was vuitton.

What in the world is vuitton? Is it French for lamb?

Ok, well my search shows Louis Vuitton, designer. Yeah, not exactly what I had in mind.

The Good Napkins (A Thanksgiving Tale)

My mother taught me to read when I was four years old (her first mistake).

One day, I was in the bathroom and noticed one of the cabinet doors was ajar. I read the box in the cabinet. I then asked my mother why she was keeping ''napkins' in the bathroom. Didn't they belong in the kitchen?

Not wanting to burden me with unnecessary facts, she told me that those were for 'special occasions' (her second mistake).

Now fast forward a few months....It's Thanksgiving Day, and my folks are leaving to pick up my uncle and his wife for dinner. Mom had assignments for all of us while they were gone. Mine was to set the table.

When they returned, my uncle came in first and immediately burst into laughter. Next came his wife who gasped, then began giggling. Next came my father, who roared with laughter. Then came Mom, who almost died of embarrassment when she saw each place setting on the table with a 'special occasion' Kotex napkin at each plate, with the fork carefully arranged on top. I had even tucked the little tail in so they didn't hang off the edge!!

My mother asked me why I used these and, of course, my response sent the other adults into further fits of laughter. 'But, Mom, you said they were for special occasions!!!'

Bathroom & Birthday

For some reason, more than anything else, I have an issue with my bathroom around my birthday.

And it isn't that I spend the morning after my birthday embracing the porcelain God!

I think the year I decided as an adult to have my tonsils removed it was around my birthday. During my recovery I tore apart my bathroom haphazardly forcing my husband (long ex-husband now) to address the immediate needs far sooner than he was interested.

About four years ago I was first introduced to bathtub reglazing. I had never heard of it. I despised my cast iron tub. I couldn't scrub it clean enough. With every cleaning there would be grayish-black wash water in the bottom of the tub. So for my birthday gift to myself, I had my tub reglazed.

Amazing! I no longer despised my tub. I didn't get the creeps by the remote thought of taking a bath! It actually looked new, and I loved it! Actually, I'm still OK with it, even now.

It's that time of the year again, my birthday. I'm again getting that itching feeling to work on the shower. Bath Fitters came and gave me the estimate for a new custom made one piece wall surround. They will also install the remainder of the new faucet hardware and add tub hardware. Additionally, they will replace the line to the shower head which is likely one of the only galvanized lines in my house remaining. My shower will also be higher, almost 7' since I have 9' ceilings and the shower head will be raised.

I made a decision. Well almost. I decided my gift to myself this year is the new surround. I will have it installed before Thanksgiving!

Now I just need to make one final decision - 4" tile or flat?

Comforts of Home

More than anything, when life throws you a curve ball or sends you in a direction that you know is best but often extremely difficult...it's nice to know that there are the comforts of home.

Regardless of the physical location, it's genuine to know that when you want nothing more than a shoulder to lean on, a safe haven or the comfort of friends and family, you have somewhere to go.
For me, that's getting out of town and going "home". Getting away from my daily responsibilities and heading back to see my Mom, truly one of my best friends! In addition to mom, there is the comfort of being in familiar surroundings. Going to my favorite comfort restaurants. Laying in bed and being lazy or the desire to hibernate until I think I'm ready to face the world again.

A weekend of physical and emotional retreat and rejuvenation...

Unreachable

Apparently at times, I am unreachable. Or just completely incompetent. I never did, to my knowledge, receive a call yesterday from Global Vacation's Marketing Department.

I did however receive a call last night on my home phone while I was on the other line. Although I was completely unable to "flash" over on my crazy, cheap phone. Additionally, the caller id didn't work on that phone or any of the other phones in my house. I figured if it was important enough, they would call back.

I can only guess that it was the travel company since JN informed me that she was contacted. The woman even said that she attempted to call me and my phone just rang. Could be. So I have to give kudos to a company for following through and supporting what they advertised and promised. In about 4 weeks, we should see our "incentives"!

Creepy Pole Man

Do you recall ever taking a picture or having a picture taken and there in the background is someone that wasn't invited? If only bald headed man, or big haired woman, or nose picker, butt kisser (well you get my point) hadn't ruined the picture...

A night on the town at a local brewery I attempted to take a few pictures. I was especially trying to take some pictures of JN and SB so that maybe people would realize that JN and I aren't an "other". I have to admit it was a daunting task. Or maybe I'm not a decent photographer since SB did a decent job taking our photo:

Here's the best shot I could get of them:

Then out of the blue, came a guy willing to creep up behind to get in the picture. Although he wasn't very creepy. He was actually rather entertaining. Regardless, I dubbed him, "Creepy Pole Man" which was most entertaining to his girlfriend, bartender and friends. I'm sure he will never again walk into the bar without being called "Creepy Pole Man!". I do have to admit that with Creepy Pole Man in the picture, it was the best picture of JN and SB. So maybe there is something to be said for adding strange third parties into the picture afterall!

Cheers to you Creepy Pole Man!

Poor Follow Through

I have an issue with people saying one thing and doing another. I have an issue with people offering something and not following through.

If you can't do it, can't meet it, can't fulfill it...DON'T SAY IT.

Because truth be told, someone, somewhere, someday is going to call you out on it and learn that you can't perform. You are a liar, a sham, a facade. Save us all the hassle and learn how to either be honest or know what your abilities are and live up to them.

No one needs a glorified LIAR.

It seems like more and more, I seem to face this on a continuous basis.

Last night I went to a presentation for a vacation travel company that offered 2 round-trip airline tickets in the continental US and 3 day, 2 night stay in a Marriott and $30 diner club to Red Lobster/Bahama Breeze/Olive Garden and $150 free gas, just for listening to a 90-minute no pressure sales presentation.

Sounded great. Almost too good to be true, right? And better yet, the offer could be shared with friends and family that wanted to attend. Done deal.

Or not.

I'll admit that there weren't any pressure sales. Especially not the presentation that eight of us had as there wasn't enough marketing staff to number crunch with us. But when it came to the receipt of the "incentives" they weren't what they claimed. Surprise, surprise.

I really should know better. I should know that if someone makes a promise, expect that it will be broken. Expect the unexpected. We all know not to assume as it makes an ASS out of U and ME. But...can we always live our lives knowing that the glass will never be half full? Do we owe it to ourselves to want more out of others. To expect more. To demand more?

Demand is exactly what I did. Demanded that they fulfill their obligations which brought me into their company in the first place. I can't say that I won, not yet at least. The marketing person will call to follow through today (which today will that be?) with their marketing sales incentive offers.

I'm entitled to what was promised to me, right?

Isn't that what is wrong with society as a whole? Marriages dissolve since those promises of matrimony are not sacred and upheld? That there is always a way out, a back door to escape having to fulfill commitments and promises you make.

Blame. Excuses. What If's.

When will people start being responsible for their own actions and live up to their reputation or their words?

Somehow I don't think that will happen in my lifetime. But maybe someday I will see that my glass is 1/4 full.

Not Ready

I found myself wandering aimlessly around Carter's, Children's clothing store today. I was searching for non-pink bunny, anything.

What was bad about the experience was there, amidst tiny winter baby clothes of pastels and fleece, I was standing in a fog finding myself singing along to the music of the store, "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas..."

Seriously...I'm so NOT ready!

Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger minus the Bacon

It's been a while since I've acknowledged on this blog more of my issues.

I have this thing about tomatoes and lettuce. A sandwich (with the exception of peanut butter and jelly or peanut butter and banana) is NOT a sandwich without lettuce and tomato.

Over the years, I've learned how to order at most fast food restaurants to get what I want. I steer clear of some places since it isn't worth the hassle of all the additions and substitutions. For instance, at Burger King I can tolerate everything on the Whopper Jr. I would prefer to not have the ketchup and mayo but it's not worth asking without.

I've always been a fan of Wendy's. The Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger has everything thing I want with the exception of the bacon.

JN found it hysterically funny that I had the audacity to order a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger without the bacon. So much so, she had to take a brief moment (long minute) to compose herself to place my order at the drive thru. The man taking the order had to pause to recollect himself to repeat, "Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger minus the bacon?"

Yes, a cheeseburger but minus the pickles, onions, mustard, ketchup with lettuce and tomato.

So which is easier to order?

That's what I thought!

(And after all that, my Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger without the bacon DIDN'T have tomatoes!)

Split Second Decision

Every day, every moment, even every second we can and are faced with split second decisions. The choices that we make and how they impact not only our own lives but the lives of others.

What if?

I had the opportunity, the split second chance to make a difference. In that moment, I chose to do the right thing. But what if I had decided otherwise?

As I was crossing the intersection of the yellow light, a truck turned left in front of me. Directly behind, practically attached to the bumper of the truck was a white PT Cruiser. The shock in the eyes of the Caucasian, overweight male. The sheer panic in his ever-whitening facade. The frantic hand-over-hand turning to avoid the direct impact.

The visions of the man as I could have chosen to smash directly into him. Would he have been thrown to the side? Would he have survived? Would I?

I knew that I would not be at fault. I had the right away. But...in that split second, I did have a choice.

I chose to do the right thing. To slam on my breaks and to veer hard to the left. I avoided the accident. I didn't even have time to honk the horn, glare at or even swear at the man.

I could have chose to not avoid the accident. I could have hoped for the best, that the damage to my car would have left me with a cool covered rental car. That neither of us were injured. That maybe my car would have been totalled and I could get a new car.

With my luck, I'm sure my car would have been totalled for about $2000. I'd be forced to drive a Ford Aspire fuchsia colored until a determination of totalization had been made. I and/or he could have suffered physical ailments for the rest of our lives or even worse.

It's amazing how one small split second decision can be clearly life altering. Which path will you choose?

Politics & Cows Joke

In the aftermath of the political campaign, here's a joke (seriously, it's a joke) worth sharing:

POLITICAL SCIENCE FOR DUMMIES

DEMOCRAT:
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You feel guilty for being successful.
You push for higher taxes so the government can provide cows for everyone.

REPUBLICAN:
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
So?

SOCIALIST:
You have two cows.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.
You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.

COMMUNIST:
You have two cows.
The government seizes both and provides you with milk.
You wait in line for hours to get it.
It is expensive and sour.

CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE:
You have two cows.
You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.

BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE:
You have two cows.
Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pours the milk down the drain.

AMERICAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows.
You are surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses.
Your stock goes up.

FRENCH CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.
You go to lunch and drink wine.
Life is good.

JAPANESE CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.
Most are at the top of their class at cow school.

GERMAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.
Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.

ITALIAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows but you don't know where they are.
You break for lunch.
Life is good.

RUSSIAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You have some vodka.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You have some more vodka.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.

TALIBAN CORPORATION:
You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two.
You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature's private parts.
You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find alternatives to milk production but use the money to buy weapons.

IRAQI CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
They go into hiding.
They send radio tapes of their mooing.

POLISH CORPORATION:
You have two bulls.
Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.

BELGIAN CORPORATION:
You have one cow.
The cow is schizophrenic.
Sometimes the cow thinks he's French, other times he's Flemish.
The Flemish cow won't share with the French cow.
The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow's milk.
The cow asks permission to be cut in half.
The cow dies happy.

FLORIDA CORPORATION:
You have a black cow and a brown cow.
Everyone votes for the best looking one.
Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally vote for the black one.
Some people vote for both.
Some people vote for neither.
Some people can't figure out how to vote at all.
Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you think is the best-looking cow.

An American Crime

I still feel in a fog today. I watched the heart-wrenching movie, An American Crime yesterday.

Devastatingly painful. Horrific. Nail biting. Angry. Despair.

I'm not sure why with my job, I'm always drawn toward based on true event movies (and books) of pain, evil and even torture, especially when children are involved (and it isn't due to the sadistic nature but out of empathy and sadness and hope - hope that society has changed. Hope that people have changed.).

Today I still feel in the same haze. As "An American Crime" doesn't seem to correlate only to the movie title today, post presidential election...

Change...

Friends from the Past & "Other" Half

In the past I've posted about girlfriends vs. girl friends. I have to say that over the past few years now that I've really solidified some true friendships with females that reach beyond the cattiness, drama and bitchiness of girls, I've come to love these relationships.

Let me stress, love the relationships. I love the friends, but I'm not in love with any of my girl friends.

On several occasions, with several different female friends, I've been questioned about my relationship or people have assumed that I'm a couple with my friend.

How does one have a close relationship with someone of the same gender without others assuming you are more than just great friends?

I've never held hands (now I'm trying to really think if I have) with any of my friends - not in a hand holding way at least, maybe in a drag you this way to show you something or more recently to hold on for dear life as I'm half in the bag. I've NEVER kissed a girl. Okay, wait, I've kissed female relatives. (Wow, I feel like I'm digging a hole here.)

Bottomline, no matter how much I value my friendships with my girlfriends and how I ache for the drama free relationships that I can't seem to have in my boyfriend relationships, I have never truly wanted to date a girl. I've never wanted to kiss a girl. I've never wanted to be with a girl. END OF STORY.

END OF MY STORY...Today on one of the social networking sites, a twin guy that I went to elementary school posted on my wall asking if JN (my co-worker/friend, drinking buddy, Mexican campadre, etc.) was my "other" half. Mind you, this is the first conversation I have had with this guy, maybe EVER.

Yeah, we were in the same grade school, he even recalls us having the same class one year. I don't remember that, but whatever. He sports a tank top in his picture and is decorated in tattoo's. I believe he's a tattoo artist. Regardless, I'm not going to call him out in public about his choice of lifestyle, regardless.

Better yet, there are MORE pictures of the BF and I on the site than there are of JN and I, with the exception that JN and I just went to the Riviera Maya.

Anyway, I just wonder when and where people learn to have class and tact.

Since most seemed to have missed that day of class.

Love of a Son

Last night my son and I were hanging out, catching up since it was the first time I had seen him since I left for my brief Mexico jaunt.

We had come back from his parent-teacher conferences were it was confirmed that my child is just shy of a child prodigy. Kudos to me.

Okay, so maybe not so much. BUT, my son is actually pretty darn smart. He's far smarter than I think either of his parents, maybe so much as to say combined. He's even outgoing. He's a leader in the class and far from being either a bully or being bullied.

I have to admit that I did find it odd when speaking with one of his teachers (as he's in 6th grade, he has more than a handful) about the potential disadvantage he may have when entering into high school as he is the "minority". Minority in the sense that I opted for my son to go to a K-8 school instead of a middle/Jr. High school. Which means...when he's in high school, he will enter as a freshman with about 75 kids he went to school with instead of about 200 or so. Anyway, the teacher says that we have nothing to worry about as he is smart, has friends and is....good looking.

Oh no, she seriously didn't go there. Did She?

Speaking of looks, my son tells me that in his downtime at school he was looking through a magazine, he believes was Sports Illustrated. He said it was the weirdest thing, he saw a picture of Danika Patrick and, "It was you Mom! It was your face staring back at me!"

Wow, sometimes flattery can get you everywhere! He said if I only had A TON more makeup on, it was me. I tried to assure my son that again, clearly he's wrong as Danika Patrick is beautiful. For further appeasement and interest we tried googling to find "the picture" and I was floored to be faced with half-scantily clad pictures and large busting out of the seams bossom's, clearly those weren't the pictures!

Election Day

Today is Election Day...Get out and vote!

I haven't made it to the polls yet and unfortunately I missed the fine opportunity that my son verified would be the slowest poll times: 9:00-11:00a.m.

Good thing I still have plenty of time to go and stand in line since I have THE DAY OFF!

Heart Rate

Some have said that I am cold-hearted. I have to admit that I'm not the most emotional of people. Not to say that I'm emotionless, I just choose to have my emotional meltdowns in my own privacy or in the company of select few. It goes back to my childhood taunting of peers and that I would be weak. (Anyway...digressing...)

I'm not a doctor or a rocket scientist, but I do know that emotional weakness err expression has nothing to do with a heart rate. But I have to wonder if there is some correlation of the two.

See while on vacation in the Riviera Maya last week, I hit the gym several times. I've mentioned before that I can be somewhat freakish (err OCD) about my workouts. I tend to push myself much harder than I should hoping for ultimate results and yet never really attaining any, not by my standards at least. I do manage to perspire (a lot) and I feel better, but I don't look better and the scale doesn't show results either. Anyway...JN and I were at the gym...

I did half an hour on the exercise bike, which reflected that I did over 12 miles during that time. Made me think that really it wasn't miles, but anyway...I wasn't short of breath, but I and my bath towel (it really was a bath towel - were damp). We had done water aerobics in the morning and managed to walk around the resort, a few miles, so I wasn't really interested in much more after the bike. JN on the other hand had bounced around machines and had settled on the treadmill where she wanted to work out another ten minutes or so. Knowing my despise for the treadmill, but inability to stand around another ten minutes, I got on the treadmill next to her. My despise for the treadmill comes from my desire to walk outside or choose other machines that are less demanding on my knees and get a better caloric burn.

Anyway...I decide to do the "Fat Burn" setting for ten minutes. I enter in all of my information (just shy of my social security number) and off I am walking. Within a minute or so I'm asked to check my heart rate. I place my hands on the heart rate monitor grasps and the result...60. The treadmill begins to incline. Another minute or so later, I give my heart rate yet again...60. This continues, I'm now at an incline of 9.8 and a speed of 3.8mph. The machine displays that if I want to lower the incline I should speed up. I speed up to 4.3 and the incline reduces to 9.6. I feel as if I'm trying to walk up a ladder. The incline is absurd. I'm not out of breath, just envisioning flying off the end of the treadmill Biggest Loser style in the middle of the gym in the Riviera Maya. I reduce the speed back to 4.0 and the incline remains.

I refuse to run. I hate running. And I sure as heck am not going to try to run up a 9.0+ incline! About eight minutes in, the machine finally gives up on me as my heart rate never exceeded 61. For the past two test requests, the machine couldn't read my heart rate at all and it switched over to manual. I did actually proceed to run at manual for the final two minutes.

JN didn't have any problem on her machine getting a heart rate. So when I finished, we switched machines. She was able to get 103 heart rate on my machine and I got...nothing. Nothing on her machine either.

At this point, the employee of the gym as well as another treadmill user tried to tell me how to get my heart rate. I attempted to use whole hand. I used thumb only. I used only finger tips. I held on for minutes at a time. Nothing worked. The employee settled on the fact that the machine must be broken.

If the machine is only "broken" for me, what does that say about my heart rate? Does being cold-hearted reduce your heart rate to non-existent at best?

I can only wonder.

*** As an after thought, I just researched heart rates. If in fact my heart rate was accurate, I was performing at 32.5%. Pathetic.

New Money

It's been almost a week since I looked at my 401k. Not because I've been too busy in a deep depression from the last peek, but because I've been living life and trying not to focus on what I never had possession of and the reality that I will never have possession of it!

Surprisingly so, today when I looked it was up. I knew that it would be, seeing that the market hasn't had any additional major drops. It was pleasant (clearly not one of my most intriguing and fascinating assessments) to see the increase. Under normal circumstances, say if I had won the money in the lotto or at the casino or it was a refund check, I would be ecstatic.

Unfortunately, I'm not. Maybe because I feel like at any moment, there will be another quick gut wrenching blow to the ever sagging stomach when I least expect it. Maybe it's the expectation that makes it less impressionable.

Somehow as I sit here, still reveling in the rise, I can't help but realize that I would be happier to have found $20.00 stuffed in the bottom of my pocket covered in lint. In retrospect, I suppose it's because that $20.00 is tangible. It's proof that good things do come and that there in my pocket or in my hand, I have control. I have the destiny to determine what to do with my newly acquired money.

My Tattoo

I've never really ever had the desire to get a tattoo. I'm not one on physical pain and torture. I do enough of that without asking for it. Besides that, I had no desire to permanently mark myself in anyway.


At least that's what I thought until I went to Mexico.


I've always thought that if I were to get a tattoo, it would be one of comical relief. I have had two knee surgeries, the most recent was eight years ago when I had reconstructive to replace my ACL. It left a scar about 1.5" long and a few centimeters wide. I used to joke that if I were to get a tattoo I would have two balls added, one on each side of my scar to represent a penis. Furthermore, I would joke that if and when I decided if I wanted the penis to look erect or flaccid upon viewing, that's when I would get a tattoo. I didn't want it to be anything completely obnoxious, but one that you would have to take a second look, as it couldn't seriously be a tattoo of a penis.


You only live once, right? I'm not getting any younger and Mexico presented the perfect opportunity for a tattoo.


Alcohol and a tattoo parlor within walking distance from the beach. Not to mention the peer pressure from JN as she wanted to get her second tattoo.


I have to admit the look on the two men's faces, Roberto and his buddy, when I asked if they could make my scar into a penis was... PRICELESS. I was hoping to only have the balls added, but with the language barriers and their belief that it may not look like a penis without additional work, I now sport a full penis on my right leg.


While I still can't write my name in the snow while peeing, I have a penis.


I have to admit that it's been rather entertaining to see people's reactions when they notice the artwork. I even found humor in the dead silence when I told the bf that I got a tattoo. And then his response, "I thought you said you would never get a tattoo?"


I haven't mentioned it to my mom yet. Oh how proud of me I'm sure she would be!






All I can say is....Thank God for Henna!

Carlos & Cocktails

We arrived at our hotel, Iberostar Playa Del Mar at approximately noon on Tuesday. I hadn't slept but a couple hours the past two days and had a few catnaps on the plane down to Mexico.

The hotel was absolutely beautiful. The grounds were full of lush jungle like greens and flowers and the lobby was large and inviting. The resort was well kept and had groundskeepers everywhere. We were greeted with a welcome drink upon check in. The room was lovely and we quickly headed out to the locate the pool and the all inclusive drinks.

The pool was absolutely beautiful. We went up to the pool bar and that's where we first met Carlos, the bartender. I can't tell you how many shots of tequila I did after the many "pretty" mixed drinks that Carlos made. The polish men can definitely hold their alcohol, and who was I to not try to keep up?

It may have had something to do with the lack of sleep or the lack of food. Or it may have been my make-up for my Grenada Gone Wrong vacation. Or it may have come down to the amount of alcohol that I managed to consume in a short amount of time. Or maybe it was a combination of everything.

I found myself the center of attention with a half dozen previous drinking pals observing me try to get off the lounge chair by the pool, passed out and covered in a towel at 3:30P.M. as JN tried to escort me back to the room. The hooping and hollering of the crowd didn't do much for my drunken-ass lack of self-esteem in a f'n two piece bathing suit to say the least! Nothing like making a good first day impression!

Regardless, I missed our welcome orientation meeting. I missed our first possible trip to the snack bar. I missed our first dinner. I missed our first night in the Riviera Maya. Well, to sum it all up, I missed it all!

Here's me living up my first night in a beautiful all-inclusive, five golden apple resort:

Not to be put to shame, I did show my face again around the resort. Even so much as hitting the gym at 6:30a.m. the next morning! At breakfast I was greeted by one of my fellow cohorts with a "Good day! How are we feeling today?" I even mustered up the courage to return back to the scene of the crime. On our second to last day, we even took a picture with Carlos, how could we not?

Whistle

I must reiterate that sometimes I can be very naive.



I'm not a huge fan of shopping, not a fan by any means. I'm all for a good deal, but if it doesn't present itself to me, I seldom hunt it out. Of all my vacations, I seldom have purchased souvenirs. I like money (Okay, I LOVE money). Any kind of money. So I've made a point to obtain foreign currency at every country I've been to. I have no intention of making it rich off my foreign monies, but I enjoy collecting them, as does my son.



Purchasing other souvenirs or gifts doesn't come easy to me. For my Europe trip I was asked by a friend to purchase chocolate in every country. It turned into a chore. I didn't buy any other real gifts, nothing seemed worth of purchasing. Grenada, my son and I each purchased t-shirts (which his "broke" after the first washing) and then had our money. Riviera Maya wasn't any different.



Seeing that we didn't leave the resort, we shopped at the stores on site and the local vendors. I did make a decision that I was going to purchase a necklace before I left. I have to admit, that I think I got a good deal. Regardless, I love it and that's all that matters!



I was looking at the vendors and came upon a whistle. It looked like it was made of onyx and it was in the shape of an alligator. I know that my son is 11, but I thought it was pretty cool. I didn't attempt to blow the whistle, but curious I inquired of the cost and learned that it was $20.00, far too much for a whistle. I would have paid $5.00 but not being the bartering kind, I moved to the next table. JN made comments with the vendor about it being illegal. What?



So I asked how a whistle was illegal. It clearly must have been because the whistle was made of onyx and it couldn't be brought across the border. Right?



Unfortunately I didn't think of taking a picture of the whistle. Here is another form that they were selling but not in the alligator shape (they also had penis whistles but I didn't feel that it was appropriate):





JN in complete hysterics, thinking I was completely being sarcastic about the whistle informed me that in fact, the alligator was not a whistle, put a pipe.


Seriously?

Mexico

I'm officially back from my 4-day vacation in the Riviera Maya, Mexico. I can honestly say, that I'm not happy about it. I would like more than anything to return back to the resort! We stayed in a fabulous resort, the Iberostar Playa Del Mar. As the trip was so brief, we didn't leave the resort to venture to Playa Carmen, Cancun or Cozumel. It was nice to be catered to. My First Annual Pre-Hunting Holiday will be the first of many!

I'm already missing the sun, the company, the lack of schedule, the lack of pressure. It was nice to not have to have responsibilities, to have almost no access to the world that awaited back at home.

I had a wonderful time. JN and I got along fabulously. I'm really beginning to think that I am making better choices at the friends and company that I have, since another trip and JN and I are still talking! At no time on the trip did I wish to be back home. She is a fabulous travel companion and a great friend!

I would like to admit that maybe over the years that I've changed. That maybe I have become a better traveler. A better friend. Maybe I've learned to relax and enjoy the moment. Life is far too short.

Contractors

Prior to my First Annual Pre-Hunting Holiday, I did a little more digging into some home remodeling/renovations and talked with a few contractors. As if I didn't have enough grief over the friend painting of the house incident, I decided I needed to see about tying up a few loose ends.

I attempted to make several calls to concrete contractors about widening my driveway, to no avail. Mr. Date (current BF) suggested a contractor who finally called me a few days later. In speaking with him, he gave me a price and a tentative date to lay the concrete, November 11, 2008. Mind you, Michigan weather, we could have a foot of snow by then! So with his quote and information, I called back others and managed to get someone out to the house to give me a better quote that could be done on 10/31 or 11/3. So it was a done deal! Unfortunately the weather was great on 10/31 and I came home from vacation to find that the job wasn't done! Here's hoping it will be on Monday!

I also would like a new surround sound for my bathroom. Mr. Date had replaced my faulty faucet in the shower but I now have both silver and gold fixtures which exacerbate my OCD and have increased my need for updating the shower! I had Bath Fitters come out to the house last weekend as well and gave me a quote. Sometimes, it's not about the money...it's about having it done.

Done well. Done right. Done quickly. And not having to rely on family, friends or yourself to manage to get the job done and still maintain a relationship! And that, you can't put a price!