No more drip...

For the last umpteen years I've lived my life with a Kleenex in hand, rolled into my sleeve grandma style or up my nose.  Pretty, I know.

My nose seemed to drip more when I ate than any other time.  I considered the fact that it might be allergies to food and then realized I didn't care if it was because there's no way on earth I would give up eating...Absolutely no way!

Long ago I decided to eat with Kleenex in hand, politely dab the nostril area when necessary and then continue to fork it in.  Why not?  As long as I could make it look cute, if there is such a thing when wiping your nose, why couldn't I get away with it.  To date, no one has made comment about it so I suppose I've been doing a cute job of it.

For the last 6 months I've been waking up with a headache.  Every.single.day!  Nothing to scream about, just enough to make me want to be mean to people.  No, I haven't followed through with the mean but...okay, maybe once...because I've always thought that being mean to people is typically from someone who is either on a power trip because they feel like a lesser person or a form of insanity.  Since I'm unwilling to admit to either, I'm nice.

So these headaches have really been getting to me but I've been living with them.  Last weekend I woke up with a headache and honestly thought I must have the flu, that's how bad I felt.  Got through the weekend and continued on through the week waking up with the same annoyance.  This last Friday I wake up to the same stinkin' 'ol thing. I stayed home from work because I could tell it was gonna be a doozy.  Is that a word, doozy?  If it is, is that how you spell it?  Well, whatever...I talked to my sister, nicely, because she came to the house for something so told her I had another headache.  Karina was sick too, which is another story in itself.

Saturday rolls around and I'm laying on the love seat, which gives no love at all, and thinking through the pain that if I could get up I'd call my sister to take me to the doctor.  You probably already know what happened but I'm gonna tell you, cause that's how I am.  Knock on the door, she walks in and says..drum roll please..."let's go to the doctor".   I figure how can I say no, she had the ability to read my mind she must have other tricks up her sleeve...I do what she says.

And all this, my lovelies, to say that the doctor's diagnosis - Sinus Infection.  Never would have guessed.  Well, maybe it occurred to me once but I thought Sinus Infections were painful, like outta this world painful.  And, true, I walked around with a stuffy nose for almost a week (plus the headache) and no other symptoms.  But what bugs me is I've always been able to diagnose myself...I hate when the doctor has to tell me what's wrong.  Just because he has this big 'ol fat diploma from, whatever school of medicine he's graduated from doesn't mean I can't figure out for myself what's wrong with me.  Besides, half the fun of going to the doctor is being able to beat him to the punch.    

This is the first time I see this guy and let me tell you there's nothing minced in his pie.  He acted so quickly my panties were down before I could yell, and you know I ain't that kinda gal.  Gave me two shots; one for each cheek and a 5 day dose of something that's working (I'm too lazy to get up and look up the name).

I touched a Kleenex this morning because I believe the respectable thing for any decent person to do is blow their nose before they leave the house, but haven't touched another since.  I apologize to Kleenex if I offend you in anyway for not supporting your cause but you can blame doctor whatever his name is (I'm too lazy to get up and look his name up).

Signed,
Drip free in Garden Grove, Marie

Do other people write about this kinda stuff or is it just me?

In need of Living Room Furniture

This is a fact, not an posting for the classifieds.  My Living Room sofas suck.

I bought them about....hmmm, maybe, Yikes! Ten years ago....which explains why when you sit down, you need a good set of climbers tools to get out.  I know you're probably thinking I'm exaggerating. Take my word, I'm not.

I think it's probably easier to drop to your knees and roll to the closest, stablest piece of furniture, grab on and pull yourself up.  I've done it, don't laugh!  There is the option of grabbing on to someone standing nearby but keep in mind, if that someone isn't firmly planted with heels dug in, the two of you could end up in the abyss, lost for all eternity.

There certainly isn't the same traffic (meaning people) going through my house as there once was, but my house is lived in.  The thing is, if you're not careful you could end up living in my sofa surviving off popcorn and chips for the rest of your life.  If that sounds bleak, not to worry, there is the periodic rubber band or TV control that go missing and to feed your daily mineral needs dimes seem to get sucked in by the dozen.

I tried pulling the cushions out the other day to see if my daughters ring had fallen in (along with everything else);  I nearly had to disassemble the entire sofa to remove them.  The wires from the box spring (if that's what it's called) were sticking out through the material and were holding the cushions captive.  It was similar to when you get your hair tangled up in a round brush while blowing drying; a rat's nest is easier to decipher.  After a good long wrestle a Rock Star, cup of coffee and overdose of vitamins I was able to pull those suckers out.  I still have the bruises on my forearms, if you don't believe me.

Just in case.

The other night after everyone had gone home I decided to sit down and watch one of those "I Survived" episodes where there are several people telling their stories of having been victimized in some terrible way and through shear determination make it out alive.  Suddenly I realized I too had a story to tell, I just wasn't sure if I'd live long enough to get through to the network that does the filming.  See, I got just a little to comfortable in the sofa and before I knew it, one thing led to another and I found myself up to the neck in cushion and box spring.  The popcorn had already been vacuumed out for the month so my chances of survival were looking slim.  If it weren't for the fact that I didn't want my daughter to be humiliated when reporters came around to get the facts, I may have never found the strength to climb, hack and crawl my way out.  Sure there was a bloody mess afterward, but the exhilaration of knowing I'd done it was beyond any other feat I've ever achieved.

I'd show you a picture of my war wounds from that night but there is just no way to prepare you for the shock so I think it be best to leave it to your imagination.  Let's just say that old box of Flintstones band-aids came in handy..Bam Bam!  

I considered taking a picture of the sofas to show you but soon realized the camera was missing.....not worth looking. 

Weeding in more ways than one

Yes, I finally did the weeding in my little patio.  I've been saying I was going to do it for at least 2 weeks now.  I wish I had taken a picture to show you the "before", but, I forgot...

I put off pulling the "weeds" because they were really pretty.  I don't know what it is but it grows out long and tall and looks really lush.  I kinda felt like I was in the middle of a meadow every time I walked out my back door.  But alas, I was not.

So it took an hour to clean up; an hour for thought.  It was 3:00 when I started and about 4:15 when I finished filling two big 'ol black plastic trash bags.  I was terribly busy today so that hour stooped over was back breakingly healthy, because everything else I did required me to sit in front of the computer.

So I'm pulling weeds and I think that maybe pulling the weeds is symbolic of what and where I am at this moment of my life. After almost 20 years I'm very close to being divorced.  Just months away.  After five years of too much tolerance, divorce was the only solution.

There's a whole lot I won't say but I will say this, you can plant a really beautiful garden that flourishes with proper watering and care but sometimes there are things, under the top soil, things that look really good from the top.  Those uncovered things slowly destroy whats beautiful.  You can pull the undergrowth out but if you don't get past the top soil and to the roots, the problem never goes away and before you know it you're pulling weeds again.  It can go on for years, if you let it.

I never meant those weeds to grow out so much that they covered all my other plants but I was fooled by how nice they looked; it made me feel good.  I never wanted my relationship to end either...but the root went so deep.  I tried to end it but it wasn't until I realized only a court could help that I was finally able to make it happen.  Sad but true.

Morsels of Joy

How many times have you read a blog of a friend recalling an event from their childhood?  I'd be willing to guess, more than once.  Me, I've written about plenty of escapades from childhood.  Those days when we first learned how to make friends, how to take turns in a game of jacks, how to fight over a doll and act the next day as if it never happened.

Our childhood friends played a huge part in how we interact as adults.  I can tell you that some of the tolerance I have now as an adult is hugely due to dealing with a neighbor girl who was sick and spoiled.  Everyone, out of  sympathy for her poor health, allowed her to dominate play time; I learned to follow.

A very close childhood friend was left home alone a lot; I learned to care.

I remember a boy around the corner who played with the girls and was somewhat sissified, I learned to accept those who didn't fit the mold.

And then there was the family next door. This family moved into the neighborhood shortly after ours.  It was a new track of homes built in what once was an orange grove. When my parents first purchased the house only my two older brothers were born, my sister and I hadn't been released from the confinement of mom's ovaries yet (but I'm sure we were cute even then).  The family next door had two sons and a daughter.  By the time I came around, they had already had their second daughter leaving us one short.  No one saw it coming but my parents competitive edge came out seven years later when my sister (referred to as the Consolation Prize by my dad) was added. It was a proud day for my parents knowing the Jones' had nothing on us; Score 4-4.  And what did I learn from this you might be wondering; competitiveness,  because a few years later I learned that just when you think your on top someone comes along and steals the gold; the neighbors added one more for a final score: 5-4, Neighbors. Humility. We tried.

Both families stayed in the neighborhood but as with most, us kids began to take off in different directions. All the years of playing and fighting, falling off bikes, church picnics, birthday parties, sleep overs, skating, swimming, board games, patio discussions, Easter egg hunts, Christmas and New Years Eve parties and making tamales seemed to fade away.

My dad passed away.  Their dad passed away.  My mom; then theirs.  By this time we'd completely lost touch.

Thank God for memories.  They help us hold on to the past that made us who we are.  They keep us from forgetting where we came from and if we remember the positive stuff, they help us to direct our own children in how to grow, tolerate, support, love and appreciate.

And oh right, here's where one of those little morsels of joy come in.  Yesterday I had lunch with Karen; The "Tie Breaker".  We found each other on Facebook, and I know you're not surprised.  I think we can all say thank you to FB for someone.

A while back I went a huntin' on FB looking for any sign of the Ezree's and Bingo!  Found one. Totally excited, we talked about getting together; a reunion but, time went by and nothing happened.  This Christmas my brother, Rusty, who is the family gynecologist...Oops!, I meant genealogist, put some CD's together with family pictures.  Seeing as how the Ezree's were at our house almost as much as we were, they were in quite a few still shots and some of the film.

The Consolation Prize and the Tie Breaker don't make much of an appearance in either the photos or the film because they were really young when most of my dads horrific photography and movie making was in full swing.  I guess the excitement wore off at some point and all equipment got shoved into the closet, never to emerge again...Until, I got married and had a family.  At that point I threaded the movie projector found a white wall and showed the kids how stinkin' cute I was as a kid.  Unfortunately my bedroom walls were really textured so we all looked a bit frankensteinish.  

Yesterday's lunch felt way too short but it was fun.  Besides the fact that Google Maps is not to be trusted and we ended up being 15 minutes late when after exiting the freeway we thought we would be 10 minutes early, it was a joy to sit with Karen and catch up on some of the goings on's over the last 15 years.  We ate like...well, like Pigs, and promised to get together again soon to do more catching up.  I can't wait.


Life is full of little morsels of joy, sometimes you just got to search for them because they might not come looking for you.

HOME ALONE

I'm home alone.  Something new to me.  It's not like I have a house full of kids living at home.  No, I only have one who lives here, but it's rare that I should be here alone with no one knocking on the door.  Unusual for an apartment manager.

My daughter is far, far away, which makes me a little sad but I know she'll be home Tuesday the 16th.  She's way over on the other side of the world.  India to be exact.  About 13 hours time difference.  She won't be coming home tonight and because it's Friday, hopefully most tenants are out enjoying their Friday night or indoors resting from a week of work.

So I figured, what better time to write.  Almost got distracted but decided not to let anything get in the way of a little time for me.  I showered, changed into something comfy, smeared myself crazy with lotion and sat down at the computer with wet hair.  WHAT A WONDERFUL FEELING!!!  YES!

I've been on GO and GO fast, for the last month or so, waiting for this moment.  This one.  Right here and now.  It's a little odd now that I'm here.  I keep thinking I should be doing something else, not that I want to, but when you spend so much time on the go you have to re-train yourself to stop.  I stop all the time but it's usually because I've fallen asleep.  Sad, isn't it?

As long as I'm here, I think I should write something.  Maybe something clever.  Something funny.  Something deep.  No, something utterly ridiculous........Darn, ain't that the way.  I have the time but I'll be darned if I can think of anything to write!

I'm getting mad; I can't think of anything to write.  Maybe if I talked to someone I'd get some ideas.  Speaking of which, why the heck has no one called me?  Doesn't anyone care?  Doesn't anyone want to spend time with me?  Is it something I said or did?  Maybe it's my hair; I knew I should have colored it lighter.  It could be my clothes, I haven't bought any clothes for a long time now.  I'm out of style and those few pounds I gained have turned everyone off.  I've been eating too much garlic lately, my breath is probably horrendous...oh, jeez, I forgot to polish my toenails and everyone has noticed.  It might be that the last time I hung out with any friends I was boring.  I need spice up the conversation, learn a new language, get a new look, pick up an instrument............Whoaaaaaaaaa!   Maybe this time alone stuff isn't such a good idea after all....

It's Incredible to see God work in your childs life

As you look back on your childs life, you can clearly recall events that made you so proud of who they are.  It could be how they chose to deal with someone who wasn't treating them well or maybe the day they realized they could overcome a fear.  Maybe you've watched your child perform in front of a crowd or something as unbelievable as making their bed without you having to threaten their life to make it happen.

I've witnessed Karina do so many things to make me proud that I often wonder if she knows just how proud I am of her.  I try to tell her now and then just to make sure she knows.  I consider myself truly blessed to have such a well behaved child.   

Recently Karina decided to go on a mission trip to India with Revolution Church.  When I asked her why she wanted to go, her response was clear.  She said she felt she needed a spiritual challenge and would love the opportunity to share the Gospel and talk to other kids her age about the love of God.   Karina regularly attends her Youth Group at church and has consistantly invited kids from High School to join her.

I'm so very proud that when other kids have decided they're much smarter than their parents and have started listening to the peers "advice", she still comes to me.

Karinas trip is not one that will be easy.  Travel time to their destination in southern India will take 2 days.  They will be visiting villages where there has never been fresh water to dedicate water wells.  They'll visit orphanages and seniors in elderly care centers, provide medical and hunger relief to many in need and share God's love with tens of thousands of people by putting on a 3-night crusade. 


I so much want this to be a success for the team, for the people of India and for God.  My biggest delima is in the area of finances.  It costs $2,750 per person not including shots & malaria pills, passport and supplies. 

This is where you might want to come in.  As most mission trips do, I'm asking friends and family to invest in the success of her trip by either prayer, a tax deductible financial offering or both.    A website has been created for this purpose so if you felt led, please click on the link below and then follow your heart.
Donate to Karina's India Cause by clicking here

Thank you so much and please know that sending my daughter off to a foreign country is difficult.  It was with my older daughter Jenifer when she went too but I know this trip will not only be a blessing to the person traveling but also to those who will witness the testimony of a young girl who knows in whom peace can be found.  If it's taking this much faith and trust in God for me to allow my 16 year old daughter to go, imagine how much more faith and trust she has already placed in the Lord.  Incredible how we can learn from our children.

Thanks and God Bless.
Marie

What a Quack up!

A couple of weeks ago on one of my regularly scheduled days off I walked outside, as I do every morning, work or not.  No work doesn't mean I get to sleep in....well, maybe a little; getting up at 7:00 a.m. as opposed to 4:45 a.m. makes somewhat of a difference but, on the days I stay home I feel it my responsibility to take my daughter and nephew to school since my sister takes them on the days I work.

So on this particular morning although I was able to wake up later, I still walked through the regular routine;  crawl out of bed, head to the bathroom, get dressed, grab keys and head out to the laundry room to unlock the door.

As I'm walking out the front door I spy through my peripheral vision some unusual, low lying movement.  If your first thought was Superman....maybe even Spiderman, please head back on down that road to reality; there is no such thing....okay, okay I admit that was my first thought too. 

After the wave of fear subsided and I managed to get my shoes back on I realized that what I saw was none other than a couple of ducks looking for someplace to chillax, do a little back stroke; take time off from the regular routine.  Just two love birds getting a little R & R.  Where the heck was the rest of the flock anyway? 
I guess even duckies need a little time alone.

I remained frozen thinking any movement would send them flying off to the Hawiian Islands...Next stop: Honolulu!  Not so.  The little buggers hardly gave me a second glance. 

I'm wondering if you think me silly to sound so excited about two little duckies swimming in a pool.  If you don't, I do.  See, for some reason, seeing those little duckies and immediately after thawing out, I created a dialog that went something like (and spoken in a Daffy Duck voice):  Him: Beautiful weather we're having, don't you think luv?  Her: Yeth my darling, juth beautiful.  Him: Then howth about a thwim Thweetheart?  Her: Abtholutely, lead the way dear.

This was not the first time I'd seen ducks up close and personal so I can't use that for an excuse for the exthitment.  No, I think it was just that, since we moved into the apartments, although some very interesting events have taken place with the humannoids around here, I haven't seen anything in the way of animals or pets lately.  The last, say, 12 years we lived with our two dogs and since they're gone and all I have as a replacement are barking tenants (if you hadn't heard that story, read my Apartment Living post) I suppose I'm just a little lonesome for the company of a friend that will listen to me, even when I'm a grouch, and not feel the need to give their 2 cents. 

So!  There you have it.  I might be living 11 miles from the beach or any other large body of water and not expect to see my fine feathered friends in my back yard but apparently ducks are not all that particular of where they take a dip.  As long as they can go for that morning swim, that's all that matters.  Quacks me up! 

Small World Isn't it..........

A few days ago I read the blog of a long time friend of mine, Juan Talavera, cleverly entitled Juan's Blog.  Juan often does recaps of his busy schedule just to let everyone know where he's been, what he's up to, and his upcoming auditions.

Juan is a Flamenco dancer in the true sense of the word(s).  He started dancing at a very early age and unlike some of us, never stopped.  I dare not say his age without his permission but I will say, he's a tad bit older than I, and I'm 55.  Sorry Juan.

When I started dancing Flamenco many, many years ago, Juan was one of the people I took classes from.  He lived nearby so we frequently drove together to classes and shows.  I would say we became friends, not the kind of friend that is inseperable; not at all, but we did spend a decent amount of time together.  I admired his talent then and still do today.

So back to Juan's blog.  For some reason, in his last blog he talked about one of his early teachers "Corina Valdez".  I don't recall him ever sharing that bit of information with me before or I'd have done what I did while reading his blog; I dropped my jaw in surprise.   Corina was my first teacher too.  Big surprise. 

Through one of Corina's shows I was first introduced to Flamenco.  I still recall Arlene (a non-related cousin type) dancing a Spanish number in what's called a bata de cola.  The video below isn't Arlene but it'll give you an idea of what the bata de cola looks like.


For many, many years I wondered if the day would ever come when I'd have a chance to learn Flamenco.

After reading that Juan studied with Corina I left a comment that I too had studied with her and gave a little background of how Cornia and I are non-related.  Her sister was married to my mom's uncle.  In the Mexican culture, that means she's a non-relative treated as a relative.  Whatever.  I'm totally confused and not sure what I wrote but....does it really matter?  My point, if there ever was one, is that Juan and I were around a lot of the same people. 

Juan and I travelled to Spain together....did we actually travel together Juan?  Doesn't matter, we were in Sevilla and Madrid at the same time.  We went to a disco in Sevilla and showed up at 9p.m., far too early, had to leave to get a bite to eat and then returned after 11p.m. and were still early.  I believe it was later that evening that we took a cab with a friend I'd made in a dance class.  He took us to a club where the gypsy's hung out and danced Sevillana's.  I must say, they (the gitanos - gypsy's) intimidated us, but we stayed for a while.  Oh how I wish I'd had a video camera....

I remember a night in mid October when we were caught in the rain.  I don't know if Juan remembers but,  I had an umbrella and tried to share it with him, he's a tall guy but being the kind hearted person I am I was determined to keep him dry.  He grabbed the umbrella I'M SURE thinking he would keep us both out of the rain but due to his height, and quick stride, he stayed dry and I....well to say that my hair got frizzy would be an understatement.  Thanks Juan!

After a few months I returned home and Juan stayed on.  It was his first trip to Spain after having danced for many, many years.  Since then I think Juan has returned maybe five times.  I have too, in my dreams.

I just want to say that if you ever, ever need a Flamenco dancer; to take classes from or to perform, you must, must, must visit Juan's website flamencobravo.com.  And if you're not in need of a dance class or dancer,visit his website anyway.  Juan was one of the original members of "El Cid" on Sunset which was originally a movie studio. 

Juan Congratulations on your many years of dancing.  Keep up the good work, you're an amazing dancer and man.

Apartment Living

Well, I admit; it's just a little nicer living in apartments when you're the manager in that I got to pick out my carpet, I have nicely painted walls instead of the standard Navajo White, I have the only garage with a door that leads to my patio and into the kitchen, the Crown Molding adds a special touch and the cost of living is answering your door at unusal times and having pushy sales people call at 6:45 A.M., looking for the Housekeeping department.

Today my daugher asked "do these people ever stop bothering us?" and I responded, "yes, when we start paying rent".  In other words, get used to it honey, ain't gonna happen.  The front door say's "Manager", i.e. "bother at will".   I mean seriously, why would I answer my door with an attitude when the benefits are beyond what I could have imagined?

I must admit, some very unusal things have happened here.  I have a tenant who barks when he's mad.  I know this because he came to my door with his complaint.  I stood and listened and then "tried" to explain what I was doing to resolve a problem when the tenant who happened to be inside with me thought it necessary to come to my aid.  She was wrong, of course, but I appreciate the fact that she wanted to show her support....unfortuantly, her style and mine are quite different.  The tentant outside the door thought it necessary to tell me what to do and so the two began a "discussion" of their own...I kept asking the one inside to let me handle the situation but those motherly instincts had already kicked in.  The next thing I know the tentant outisde barked...aahaa, barked. Just like a dog...you know, woof, woof, woof.  If that isn't crazy enough she barked back.  For a few seconds I thought maybe it was a full moon.  I waited in anticipation to see if either of them would grow facial hair but it never happened.  My daughter was sitting on the sofa watching and later told me she was ready to call the animal shelter...ok, that's a lie but she was ready to call the police.

It was something out of a bad book.  So stupid you wanna just put it down but just interesting enough to keep you there.  After a few barks, I stepped back up hoping neither of them would bite me in the ankle and asked them to sit, which of course was followed by a treat...another lie.  I did manage to get in between the two and four fleas later was relieved when the two were ready to let me take my position again and speaking in English was able to calm them both down, no belly scratching involved.

The next day the female dog called to say she was sorry; that she could never do what I do.  To which I responded of course, grrrrrr...ate!  Thought I was gonna growl, didn't you!  I tried to make her feel a little better by saying that we all have our own method and mine is to try to avoid argument, and listen before allowing myself to be drawn into a no win situation.  She said her husband told her to mind her own business but I think he sat her down and calmed her by squashing a few fleas. 

I appreciate the fact that she wanted to come to my defense.  I do, really.  I think she mistook my patience as weakness.  But all I was doing was allowing him to voice his complaint without him thinking I didn't care what he had to say.  I admit, I didn't enjoy the way he thought he needed to voice his complaint; some people think that yelling is the best path to wining but once I was able to get them both to calm down, he quietly listened to what I had to say and then left on his merry way.

It could be he was embarrassed as hell....if hell get's embarrassed...or maybe his wife was whistling for him, not sure.  All I know is he walked away, lifted his leg at the first tree and left me in peace for the rest of the evening.  Now I know why he never came with his wife when she was deciding if she wanted to apply to rent.  God bless her.

Yes, managing apartments has it's benefits...I'm just glad we don't allow animals on our property.

I'm baaaack............

It's been a long time since I've blogged.  I've had every intention of writing but something has kept me down.  Maybe the intensity with which every day has every hour filled.  Possibly the move from my home to apartment manager.  Or it could just be the ups and downs of my daily life.  Whatever the reason, I've not blogged and I miss it immensely.

This morning I awoke at 6:30 and decided I had no particular reason to get up; except that the laundry room needed opening.  With all the selfishness I could muster up in me I decided "the heck with it!"...I laid down and settled in for a few minutes more of shut eye only to wake again at 7:15. 

Knowing that there are a few people who wash Sunday mornings, I threw my jeans on and headed over to the laundry room to open up.  The wind was blowing so strong but it was a warm tropical wind...yes, here in California..I actually strolled over and enjoyed the warmth of the breeze.

I came back in and decided to read my emails and found one from my very good friend, Debbie, of trixiesmommy.blogspot.com/.  That was it!  I moved on to my cousin Anita's blog castlescrownscottages.blogspot.com/. 

I won't be writing much this morning; have to study some songs and get ready for church and Worship but, now that my schedule has changed and I'll have more time on my hands I plan on getting back to blogging.  It'll be such a joy to get back to doing something I love.  I can almost hear Tye from Extrememe Home Make Over saying "Welcome Home, Marie, Welcome Home".

Wow! It's been over a month since I posted anything...

Things are a little crazy right now but I saw this video at church today and really felt the need to share it.  ENJOY!

Awwwwww!

A few Saturday's back was an exceeptionaly fun day.  I went with my theater friends to see Shakespeare by the Sea - Twelfth Night.  We left my house at about 3:45 and arrived at Point Fermin Park in San Pedro around 4:20. 
The moment we stepped out of the car I felt as if we'd just traveled around the world...not because the ride was so long or because the company was so boring.  It just looked so different and something about it gave me the feeling I was a tourist.

We walked down to where the outdoor seating is and decided since it was still early (the show didn't start until 8:00), we'd wander around and see the grounds.  Lucky, as we were, we were walking past the Lighthouse when we were made aware that you can actually go inside the beautiful thing.  This is a lighthouse that was built in 1874....it's older than me!  Yea...I like things that are older than me.  It was beautiful; filled with antique furniture, an old iron that could knock any misbehaving husband out for a few days, an ice chest (better known today as a refridgerator), beds, just about anything you'd need in 1874. 

We made our way up to the Lighthouse huffing and puffing the entire

way.  It's amazing what a few years will do to your stamina. The view was stupendous.  It made me wish that for just an hour I could step back into that time to get a full understading of how it might have felt.                  

After our lighthouse adventure we mosied down to the seating area again and met up with more friends, ate our dinner and then set out to see more of the grounds.  As Wendy tried to look for seeds in some of the flowers (just shows what age we've come in to), a family of racoons crossed the path and climbed up into a tree nearby.  Apparently that tree has some type of berry on it and this little family were hungry.

Berry Hungry Family of Racoons

We hung around and photographed the Racoons until they'd had enough and started to hiss at us.  I'm not all that educated on the lifes of Racoons but I somehow recall hearing that they carry rabies.  Needless to say, we were outta there!

There was time to sit, chat, and laugh before the show began.....

The show was wonderful; the group of actors fantastic!  I think it only fair to say, a good time was had by all!

SHOES

I knew it wouldn't take much more than the word "SHOES" to get your attention.
What is it about shoes that gets us all excited.  Why will we knock down the person next to us at a sale to grab a pair of shoes, not because we like them all that much, but because someone else looked at them and you can't take the chance that they are cute and you just haven't seen it yet; some things need time to grow on you.

I woke up this morning with shoes on my mind.  Strange? Yes, but there it was plain as day; shoes.  I don't remember dreaming about shoes.  I don't recall seeing any ad's about shoes.  I do recall thinking I'm not gonna let "so and so" walk all over me, but I don't think that could be it.  Why shoes?  There is a possibility I may have put my foot in my mouth recently, but I'm still not sold on that being a solid reason for having shoes on my mind.

As I look back through the years....a long way back, I wonder how many pairs of shoes I've owned.  Does anyone know how many pairs they've owned?  Let's see.....I still have a little white pair of walkers, most likely from before I was walking.  They're terribly scuffed up, but so cute.  I have a red pair of dance shoes I wore when I danced in the Disneyland Parade for the opening of Small World.  I have some old tap shoes, character shoes, ballet shoes, flamenco shoes....there's a theme here.

In my closet you'll find hiking boots (like when was the last time I wore those), Crocks, sandles, sneakers, flip flops (I've learned not to call them thongs anymore), plenty of heeled work shoes, and let us not forget the smashed up, worn out, things I call slippers (Cinderella would be embarrassed for me).  There might be 15 pair of shoes in my closet.  Most of which I don't wear, but there for security sake; I never know when I might need them. 

When was the last time I bought a pair of shoes....WOW! I think it was before going to Hawaii last July.  I bought two pair of sandles.  Prior to that, I don't recall.  Seriously.  I just don't buy shoes anymore.  I make the old ones last.  And style....HA!  What do I know about style?!  There was a time when I was the style queen.  My friend Denise and I would go shoe shopping at one of our favorite stores in the Stonewood mall.  The owner had shoes from everywhere...imported stuff.  Beautiful.  He'd let us put them on layaway, crazy I know, but we did it.  We'd pick four pair, put them on layaway and get them out within a month.  Those were the days!

Why I didn't save some of my shoes, I don't know.  Especially the platforms, they're back in style now.  I actually think I tried to save them.  Before moving into my current house and while cleaning out the old one, I pulled a barrell from the shed.  It was full of my old shoes.  When you move you don't want to take more with you than you absolutely have to so I tossed them.  Such a shame....

Shoes can say so much about a person, can't they?  They actually "tell on" us.  If we're clean, dirty, overweight, stylish, boring, casual, walk to one side, frugal, or lacking in personality.  So was that the reason I was thinking about shoes?  Could be.  I haven't had had much change in my shoe wardrobe for some time now...maybe it's time for a change.

Ok, well, I just justified my reasons for going out and buying a pair.  Hmmm let's see, where can I get the most for my money......................

Wheat Thins

I love Wheat Thins but I'd like your opinion.  Are they called wheat thins because they're thin in size or is it because if you eat them they help control your weight and you stay thin?  Cause I'm here to say that I cannot, seem to control myself when I start eating them.  I tell myself "I can't gain weight" even if I sit down and chow a whole box at a sitting.  I say it over and over...sometimes, even out loud.  Cause you know if you hear it, it's true... Right?


Like, let's say you wanna eat a whole cake...this is just an example, so don't think I'm speaking from experience...So you sit down with the cake and you say repeatedly "I can't gain weight, I can't gain weight".  Of course, you're saying it out loud because if you can hear it, it's true.  I can't remember where I learned that, but I'm almost sure it was at church...maybe not.

Well, I don't know but so far, I'm still not thin.  Maybe I have to eat a few more boxes of the stuff.  I'm just wondering if I have to eat them at one sitting or if I can stretch it out over, let's say.....2......hours.  Cause the thing is, I'm not going anywhere, not moving a leg or a finger until I see results.  Can you imagine eating a whole box and instead of sitting right there on the sofa waitng for thinness to come upon me, I get up and walk around....I could miss it.  You know chewing works off calories too so I'm beginning to see why eating a couple of boxes could be to my advantage.  Also, I've read that sleeping is a good calorie burner...that gives me a great idea for this evening.  I'm gonna sit down and cram a couple of boxes down my throat, which of course will be followed by a glass of water  because water is a plus when you're attempting to lose weight, (I don't know why they don't print that on the box) and then I'll take a little nappy and hopefully when I wake up, viola! I'll be thin. 

I'd like to meet the person who created Wheat Thins.  I imagine they're perty darn skinny...Oops! I meant thin.

Do you remember or do you think you remember

The other day my daughter was telling me about something she remembers from her childhood.  She went into great detail and I was honestly impressed that she had such a great memory.  She does really.  There are times she recounts a dream, in it's entirety.  I've learned not say anything to her that I don't want her to remember because, she will.  My sister is the same; she remembers things that most people don't even notice happened right before their eyes.

I remember stuff too you know.  Like the time I colored on the wall in the living room behind my dad's red chair.  You know why I remember?  Right!  I got one of the very few spankings I ever received. 

I also remember a night I found myself laying on the bathroom floor telling my Aunt Camille she didn't love me...you know why I remember?  Ahh,ha she spanked me too.  I guess your not supposed to tell people who love you that they don't cause if you do they're overcome with this crazy desire to spank you.  I remember that Auntie!

I also remember being about 8 years old, sitting on the back porch of my parents house.  I was wearing a white button down shirt and some old brown cowboy boots (whose were those anyway?).  I was eating white bread with refried pinto beans on it.  The memory is so clear.  Oh! Maybe that's because I have a picture of it.....and there, my friends is the key.  Not that all memories come from old photos but, I wonder if I'd remember much of anything from my childhood if there weren't pictures to trigger the memories.

I don't know about you but my family has so many pictures.  My parents had pictures that go waaaay back.  Way, way back.  It's a beautiful thing too.  My brother Rusty (Daniel A. Leonard V)has done a wonderful job of putting some some of those pictures on a webpage (it's a geneology); click on his link and check them out by clicking on the highlit names.  I'm actually quite surprised he didn't put more pictures on there.

 

Daniel A. Leonard 2nd

In the 40's, my mom and her cousins used to take the best pictures.  Looking at them makes me wish I could have been there.  I loved the clothing and the poses they chose.  They'd all climb on top a car and strike a pose or theres the picture in someone's living room with them posed around the piano.  Just makes you wanna jump into the picture cause looking at it you can almost feel the mood.

I remember the pictures my dad used to take of us when we were kids.  Most of us wore flat tops....Oh, wait, that was no flat top, that was my dad cutting our heads off.  His artistic abilities must have been somewhere else because it wasn't in picture taking.  Then again, maybe he just didn't like what he saw and did a little editing.  Thanks Dad, you really could have told me the hairdo needed some changing.

For a while there I stopped taking as many pictures...what a mistake!  They're like family gold.  No family should be without them.  So if by some chance you've put the camera in a drawer or closet, get that sucker out and start snapping away.  It's less expensive these days and so much easier to get to.  Do it!  Your family memories are slipping by you if you don't.  The kids need to see the pictures and videos of themselves so they can remember just how cute and dorky they once were.  Sorry, I was probably thinking of one of my elementary school pictures with my hair standing up in the middle of my head.  Can't look at it without laughing and neither can anyone else.

Go on now, go make some memories!

Not exactly what I had in mind but it'll do in a pinch

Geez! I forgot how long it takes to set up a new blog page. What with the Blog Background thief still at large, I had to pick something quick to try and make my blog as inconspicuous as possible.

Some of you out there are constantly giving your blogs facelifts. New pictures, new colors, new backgrounds, new, new, new....Me, I'm quite content to keep the same scenery. I mean, if you have time to do it, more power to you....I guess.
So I chose this one because it has plenty of color. I wasn't able to figure out how to make the photo of my dance shoes fit better so I finally just thought, "so". Really, that is what I thought. I've found that saying "so" helps release me of the pressure of having to do anything. "So", perty much says it all. It's almost like saying Amen...okay, well not quite but it's a good closing line word.... Theres something so final about "so". I mean what are you gonna do when someone says "so"? Challenge them? What more can you get out of them...how about "so what?" That's taking it a step further.
And as usual, I've gone off on another tangent and forgotten about the original message of this post, so I should finish....but, on the other hand, I'd rather not.....SO!

Not there yet...

I'm still not sure what took place exactly, and I'm not where I need to be with my blog look but I'll be back tomorrow to see if I can't get a little personal feel to it.  Such a cryin' shame. tisk, tisk.

What the heck!!!

Okay, fess up whoever you are! I'm mad as heck and I'm not gonna take it anymore. I wanna know who stole my background. How can you have a blog without a background? How?


If you're envious of my blog background, I'm really sorry but that's no reason to steal it. Seriously, there are a ton of blog backgrounds out there, so why did you have to take mine. I'm a simple person. I do no one harm. I get mad like anyone else now and then but that is no reason to rob me of my background. I feel violated.....

And what am I supposed to do? Is there such a thing as a blog background police? Do I go to Detective Wallpaper? Do you think CSI would take my case? How about 20/20, they're always looking for a new story. Maybe they'll help me. 60 Minutes might show some interest if I beg but why should I have to go to such extremes?

And another thing...how did you manage to steal my photobucket video? You are a sly one, aren't you.....I'm just not all that sure I like the floating notification you left in its place. It doesn't belong. I know this much about you, and I'm sorry to say it but ... you have no taste! Who leaves a sign of what they've taken illegally?


Whoever you are, please return my background...I have nothing to offer in return except a thank you but I can promise it'll be sincere and non-accusatory if you return it without making a big scandal. I'll give you until tomorrow evening after which time I'll probably cry a little, throw some dirt on myself and then move on and over the grieving process by looking for a new background. It hurts me to think I'll have to go with another layout but sometimes life just throws a hardball our way and we have to do what we never thought we were capable of.


So tomorrow,7 o'clock P.M. Return the background or I'm sticking out that stiff upper lip and moving on. If you’re out there and you're reading this, you dag nabbit thief, keep an eye out over your shoulder Miami Vice, L.A. Vice, Sergeant Friday, Barney Fife and the rest are looking for you. (Okay, I just had to get that last threat in) I'm so disappointed.


Signed,
Background Less in L.A.

Not Again!

Let me start by saying that this is NOT a fun post.  Having delt with this myself, I can tell you that Pancreatitis is far from fun.  I've had it so I know first hand.

Karina, at about age 9, began having stomach problems.  Not exactly stomach but for the sake of this post I'll use "stomach".  So I'd take her to the doctor and he'd say "she's not getting enough fiber, she's constipated".  I wanted to punch that guy in the gut and say 'now does that feel like constipation to you?'  I didn't, but I still wish I had.

So for months, we made our little trek to the doctor and he'd say "What did you eat today? If she doesn't eat enough fruits and vegtables, this is what happens".  Okay so after I don't know how many trips the last thing I remember him saying was "If you're gonna keep bringing her back here because she's constipated but never change her diet, what would you like me to tell you?  It's your fault she's like this."  And I said 'bye, bye Doctor Stupid', out we went, never to return again.

I'm not a doctor but there have been a number of times when I went to a doctor and told him exactly what was wrong with me before they could do any labs.  Why? because I know my body and I listen to it.  But this joker was too dumb to listen to what the patient was saying.  He only knew he was right, or so he thought.  Big Jerk!

So, we found another doctor who, was nicer but still could not recognize that this was something other than bad fruit or too much candy.  I tried to explain what I thought it was from my own experience but could not be heard. Poop! We liked her too. 

Well as it turned out, after several visits to the doctor, being sent home with an "it's nothing" response, we decide to stay home and ride out the pain.  I was getting desperate as Karina's pain was increasing and there seemed to be no end in sight.  Finally in desperation and fear as I watched my little girl turn into a skeleton I took her to the ER where, not only was she admitted for Anorexia, Child Services were called on Juan Carlos and I because, and here's what the doctor said "I was raised with a step-parent too.  I know how terrible it is.  Your husband should not be hitting your child"......Hold the phone Miss Doctor Stupid Numero Dos.  First of all, neither of us are her step parents and second, we do spank our children if they really need it but the heal of your hand to the forehead as a joke has never, as far as I know, won a case in court for physical abuse.  This doctor was slightly off her rocker. 

So she admits Karina for Anorexia and I let her.  Why?  Because even though I knew she was a dim wit and would lose her case in court, all I really wanted was to get medical attention for my daughter who I knew was suffering with something other than malnutrition.  Holy!

After many, many tests, many, many doctors and a switch to a children's hospital, it's confirmed by a wonderful doctor who was intelligent enough to see that this was not Anorexia or anything of the sort.  It was an unusual case of Pancreatitis.  Yes, it's unusual for children but that does not mean it does not exist. 

Our wonderful doctor sends us to yet another hospital where the specialist does what they call an ERCP...don't ask....and removes these little stones from Karina's pancreas.  No sooner did she come off the drugs used during procedure when she's asking, "can I have some food?".  Let me tell you, Godzilla himself would have melted and spoon fed her.  She ate as if she had never eaten before and wanted more once she finished with the first plate.

If you've never had pancreatitis and would like to know what it feels like, simply take your everyday dinner fork, poke it into your stomach right below your left ribcage.  Twist the fork repeatedly while using a hammer to push it in as far as possible.  And then....... yes, it's that painful.  There is absolutely no position that makes it better and for as much pain as your in, you'd better not even look at a drop of water or crum of food becuase my dear, that fork will soon turn into a jack hammer.  PAIN!  So on top of being in pain, food is out of the question....for days.

Karina during a pain break

Well, that's where we are.  Back at the hospital after I don't know how many visits.  On drugs and holding on to the pounds by getting a healthy diet of Potassium Chloride, drip, drip, yummy, yummy.

If you have a heart, please pray for my little girl.  She's been hospitalized about 5 times, her fist stay 7 weeks long.  She been prodded, stuck, x-rayed, scanned and starved far too many times.  She's a good kid and manages to get through this everytime.  I wish I could do more for her but unfortunately I'll just have to pray that she out grows this terrible thing as I did, some time in my 30's.  I really pray she doesn't have to go through this for another 15 years.  Sometimes life is just not fair.  :-(

It's a mystery to me....

Today was the first day in quite a while that I visited my Facebook page.  I didn't intentionally keep away, I just hadn't made it a point to visit....well, I take that back.  I suppose if I don't tell you and you find out, you'll think I'm lying.  I have FB on my cell phone.  I'm not a FB fanatic or anything of the sort, it was during a crazy whim that I decided to add it and everynow and then while sitting at a doctor office, on the shuttle from work to the parking lot or when I get a good piece of gossip and need a way to validate it, I use my phone.  Come on now, you've got to admit, it's not a bad idea.

So, as I was saying, today I visted my Facebook page.  I watched a video a beautifully voiced bass baritone friend of mine posted of himself, visited the Rio Hondo College page, jotted a quick hello to Meredith and was on my way out when I see one of those people you "might want to be friends with" thingys on the side.  I had to take a second look because it was a very dear friends son.  That in itself is not strange.  What's strange is that I have no idea, NONE, how any one, or in this case any "thing" (meaning FB) would know that I know this young kid. 

My first thought was 'Hmmm, maybe I became friends with his mom or dad and don't remember'.  So I went through every single face in my friends list and they weren't there.  I'm thinking this is kinda creepy.  I mean, are people from my past gonna start popping up on my FB  sidebar?  This is a Twilight Zone moment.  Who knows I know this kid?  Who?  Is someone trying trap me into sending him an email and then make it look ugly like I'm one of those sicko's so they can have me thrown into jail while being taped by one of those after prime time shows that airs on tv?  WHAT IS HAPPENING?  This is a real mystery.

I don't wanna make a big thing about this but...I just don't understand.  I went back to my page to see if he was still there and he was gone.  Gone.  Just....gone.  And in his place people I knew in High School.  How the heck did they show up? 

Listen people, FB, FBI, CIA, whoever you are...I did nothing...I'm innocent...and I stand my ground.  You cannot destroy me.  You cannot break me...you cannot, you cannot, you can.....NOT!  But just in case, I'm locking my doors, pulling the shades and getting a pitbull.  Are they expensive?  It doesn't matter, I'm getting one and I've heard them yelp on tv when a burglar sneaks into the back and hits it or whatever it is they do to make a dog yelp.  I know that sound so don't think your gonna get me or my dog!

If you didn't already know...

Last weekend was one I'd waited for, for quite some time.  You see, my cousin and her wonderful husband flew in from Minnesota....yes, way over there where if you don't freeze during the winter, your able to take a vacation to a warmer part of the world, like good old Califor.NI.A

Let me just say that it was a visit I wished would never end.  We met on Friday, which was long in coming because they flew in on the 19th.  Of course there was Ruben's side of the family to visit with and friends they hadn't seen for years and then....having saved the best for last (my opinion only), Friday the 25th rolls along.  Six days, count 'em 6 days, later it's my turn.  And heck yes, I was excited.  My daughter, Karina, had heard so many stories of the famous Anita, she just couldn't wait.  She kept telling me how excited she was to meet my cousins. 

Friday arrived and at approximately 11:42 my door bell rang.  I tried to play it cool but I nearly bore through the hardwood floor in my living room running to the front door.  As I answered I had to fight back the desire to shake my head in order to believe that it was actually them standing before me.  We sat and talked, and talked and well, you know....Let's just say that talking must run strong on our side of the family because Anita already had larengitis and Ruben, he's not shy for words.  Had I been thinking in advance I would have installed one of those little thingys that have in the meat department of the local grocery store so we could pull numbers and make sure we all had a chance to speak.  I'm sure Karina had plenty to say too but her bad luck, she speaks slowly.  Too bad kid, that's all I can say.  Out of shear sympathy we did allow her at least 4 words every 15 minutes....poor little thing, it was the least we could do.

Saturday, it was Breakfast Club and then some.  My long time friends Bunny from I'm Just Sayin', and Debbie from From Venting to Viggo were there along with the rest of my family...I say the rest because like it or not, Debbie and Bunny are family.  They've known us far too long to be anything but. 

Breakfast was to start at 10:00 a.m. and although we were starving, okay so we weren't and I just felt the need for a little drama; the truth: although we normally start at 10:00 oclock on the button, we waited patiently for the guests of honor to arrive.  I passed out wipes so we could wipe the drool off our chins as we sat and smelled the awesome breakfast my brother Rusty and his wife Juliet prepared for us.  And then, and then, they were there, here, with us...whatever!  You get my drift; we could eat!  No!  I didn't mean that...

Bloggers Debbie, Marie, Anita, Bunny and Ruben

After 15 minutes of hello's we finally grabbed our plates, served ourselves and sat down for coffee, food and chat.  We ate and ate, and ate, and ate....and talked and talked.  We switched tables, switched chairs, changed rooms, changed shoes, laughed, cried, told old stories, talked about junior high, high school, dorks, school fights, being kids, being adults, books and then as if it had never happened we started all over again...food, chat, talk, laugh, switched tables and on and on it went.  I admit, my feet hurt.  I switched from the left to the right and then again so often it looked as if I were in the middle of a salsa dance.  And then after what is typically a 3 hour gathering, we realized 12 hours had passed and it would have to end. 

                                                                                                                  

I really didnt want to leave but we were all tired.  Plumb tuckered out.  All I can say is, next time, we're meeting at a hotel with a dance floor a live Salsa band, a restaurant with buffet and of course beds for resting.   Sure would make the 12 hours a lot easier.  But I'm thinking we could do a weekend trip, why not!  I'm all rested up and raring to go!

Juliet, Aunt Camille, Erick, Bunny, Michele, Danny, Debbie, Anita, Ruben, Marie

Rusty, Christopher, Donte, Karina (Not pictured Carlos and Juan Carlos, sorry boys)

Today's news

This morning Juan Carlos and I sat down to breakfast...no, that's not the news...after we had breakfast I cleaned everything up and waited a while to wake Karina as she was out a little late because she went to the band banquet last night.

Around 10a.m. I woke her up so she could eat something and get ready for a rehearsal with a little performing group she's just joined.  She asked for french toast so I gladly made it, even though I'd just finished cleaning.  I sat down with her because, I like to take that time to sit and chat with her.

We talked about little things and I sat and watched her eat, delighted at how she enjoyed her meal.  I could tell she was in deep thought but didn't quite know what it was and figured she'd tell me eventually.  She stops, puts her fork down and looking me straight in the eye says "Mom, can I tell you something?"  Far be it from me to say no, so I said "sure, if you want".  She starts out with "I hope you don't get mad, but last night xxx asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes.  Are you mad?" 

The last time she asked me if she could be someone's girlfriend she prefaced it with "You know how much I like xxx right?  Well, he's gonna ask you and dad if I can be his girlfriend".  I was delighted at the idea that that conversation had taken place before the big decision was made.  They'd decided that they would never be alone, never go out alone and would only hold hands.  His parents were aware that he was going to ask her and that he wanted to talk to us first.  So, we went through the warming up of the idea, and then waited for the day.  We all talked and decided it would be okay.

So the guy who had the whole thing worked out and talked out before he would accept her as a girlfriend eventually invites her over his house (with his parents and siblings there) and the relationship was on it's way.  This is a kid who goes to her youth group, I know his parents and so I talked to them and we were all in agreement that it would be ok.  Fast forward two weeks later, he calls her and breaks up with her over the phone because seeing her once or twice a week is not enough and he just can't take it.  So much for all the talk buddy.  My little girl is heart broken.

So here we are at the kitchen table and she tells me, doesn't ask, just tells me she said yes to this guy.  I already know him because he's been going with her to youth group.  And seeing as how I always give a group a kids a ride to group and then home, he asks me to go in and meet his mom.  Ahhh, I'm thinking this guys got something up his sleeve.  Us mom's know this stuff.

So, what am I to say?  I start with "no, I'm not mad, but .... and I tell her that the same rules apply, no going out alone, no hanging out at school alone, no, no, no....".  She sat and listened and then said "I know mom".  This is when I tell her how proud I am that she's so honest with me because I am AND because I just wanna cement the idea in that I'm not gonna let my guard down and she shouldn't either.

I asked if she'd told her dad, knowing darn well she hadn't, and she said no, but I will.  Now I ask, what do you do with a 15.9 year old who wants to have a boyfriend, is open with her parents about the whole thing and always trys to do the right thing?  You can hardly say no.  I mean, I guess I could but what would that accomplish?  I dont' want her sneaking around, but I'd rather she didn't have a boyfriend either.  If I say no, she just might stop being as open with me....I really don't want her to sneak about. 

He's a nice kid, not exactly who I would have picked for her but look what happened with the guy I would have picked!  And here's the interesting thing; he'd asked her before but she said no because she still wasn't over the first kid and Thursday night on the way home when I gave one of her other guy friends a ride home he asked me, how should I break up with a girl who I'm seeing when I shouldn't have started going out with her in the first place.  Karina pipped in and said "you didn't even know her that well when you started seeing her.  You should have gotten to know her before you asked her to be your girlfriend".  He says "I know, that was dumb cause now I don't want to hurt her but the truth is we're not compatable".  Karina tells him make sure you don't do it over the phone, be a man about it and face her, after all, it was your mistake.  Geez!  I'm impressed.  Of course she was speaking from experience.

I don't think I'm ready for this.

So, there's the news.  My daughter has a boyfriend and that's that.  Don't you hate it when you get a taste of what your parents had to go through.

Before and After.....

BEFORE:
What, you ask?  A reunion of my college theater friends. 

Next Saturday, May 1st, we'll be getting together for a picture reunion.  This doesn't mean only pictures will be there, we, the bodies will be there but we're all taking pictures from shows and travels we did/took together.

I'm scared.  Seriously scared.  See, unlike anyone else, I've aged and gotten "chunky", I've turned into someone's mom and it makes me look old.  Darn!  As my comadre and I have been known to say "remember when we used to walk down the street and guys would look at us".  Those days are G.O.N.E., gone.  If they look now it's because they're simply dumb founded at how we were able to get into our pants without tearing them at the seams.

I know, just know, just know that all my friends stayed young looking, wrinkle free and beautiful.  Even the ugly ones, they're beautiful now.  Albiet through the magic of plastic surgery, I don't care, they're beautiful.  I've lost my charm.  I've lost my figure.  I've lost my mind!  How can I raise the money, get counseling, have surgery and recover before next Saturday.  How can I, how can I, how, how, how?

Okay, maybe I'm not all that worried.  It's just that lately, I look in the mirror and see jowels.  I swear they weren't there last year.  I was looking at a magazine and saw a bull dog.  I immediately reached for the phone to call a lawyer because I thought someone used my picture without my signing a release.

Do I sound crazed?  I'm quite normal, I'm just not ready to start looking old and I seriously don't think it happened until just 3 days ago.  Before then, I looked hot.....kinda.  Especially if you squinted when you looked at me.  Now, today, here, you could stand on your head and I'd still look old.

What to do?  Well, I'm gonna go face the music.  Which is not to say I'm not gonna buy a girdle or color my hair, have my eyebrows threaded and my nails painted.  Shoot, I might even buy new underwear cause you never know, what if I have an accident there and someone see's my underwear.  All kinda accidents happen at our age you know.....like, like...well, have you ever sneezed unexpectedly and ....oh, never mind.  I can't bring myself to say it, but you know what I'm talking about.

One time my family was at a picnic and one of the kids made me laugh unexpectedly....I made a bee line for the bathrooms.  It was my first experience with the weak bladder thingy.  I was shocked.  I thought something was desperately wrong and that's when I first discovered I was aging.  I still curse that day.  The first of my old age experiences.

Don't worry, I'm not digging my grave yet but I wish I could have appreciated my youth when I had it.  I wish I could have appreciated the smaller bum I once had, or the wrinkle free face.  I don't get it, they come up with gadgets for everything, why can't they design something to hide wrinkles?  A girlfriends sister and brother in-law used to put preperation-H on their faces.  I found out one day when I went to their house and the subject of wrinkles came up.  They all started laughing except me.  I guess I had a suspicious look on my face, not knowing what they were laughing at so rather than let me stand there in the dark, they told me about their preperation H treatments.  Maybe I should run out and buy some of that but, will people recognize the scent and then think I've been kissing butt?

Wish me well.  I'm scared but I can do this.  I'll just smile and hope they don't notice the wrinkles and if they do, I'll lie.  I'll tell them I'm a victim of some strange new disease......I can lie.  I can, I can, I can.

AFTER:
You guys are crazy!  You had me all worried about what people would think, how they'd point and laugh.  How I'd be the only one with wrinkles and extra padding on the bottom side....side, side....back side and front side.  I'm not sure what you had my friends made out to be but if they laughed, they hid it well.  It's nice to know they had enough respect for the aging process to accept me like I am.

I had a BLAST!  We laughed, we cried, we saw slides of old shows, we ate, we drank.  But most of all, we knew it was there...the old feelings all came back.  It was as if we'd seen each other just yesterday.  If I have any complaints, it's that one evening was not enough.  I felt like I got only a few minutes with each person and after over 20 years, a few minutes just ain't enough.

The great thing is, we've reconnected and believe me, time was not wasted.  People are getting together to hang out, see plays, go to the movies, eat....it's great.  Facebook pulled through for us by providing the perfect tool with which to seek out and connect with people we'd lost touch with.  Everyone looked great and it was an evening I'll never forget.

What a bully...

Growing up, on of my bestest friends in the world was Sheron Lupita Garcia.  Sheron lived across the alley and cati-corner to my house.  She moved into that house when we were in the 3rd grade and wasted no time getting to know what kids lived in the neighborhood.

We were not directly related, but her family was related to someone on my mom's side of the family so we just preferred to consider ourselves cousins to spare explaination of how we knew each other.

Sheron was an only child and spent a lot of time at my house because her parents were often out leaving her alone in the house.   So many times she would call late in the evening and say my mom and dad aren't here, can I come over.  Of course my parents always agreed that she should so I'd walk out the front door to the curb to wait and see Sheron running down the alley, her long lanky legs carrying her as quickly as they could.  As this was pre-cell phone, she'd always leave a note for her parents so they'd know where she was when they came home. 

Sheron was used to doing things her way because she didn't have any siblings to consider.  And because I was always the push over, we often did what she wanted to do, even if it wasn't what I wanted to do.  I guess you could say I let her push me around.  Go on, say it.

One summer my parents bought a small pool for my sister and I.  Michele is 7 years younger than I so when Sheron and I would ask if we could walk to Ed's Liquor, at the end of the street, my dad would say "you can go, but you have to take your sister with you".  We hated that! Not because I didn't like my sister, but you know, when you're 11 and your sister is 4, it just doesn't seem fair.  So, for me it was a drag but for Sheron, well, my sister was just a nusance.  So back to the pool....Sheron comes over one day and we're walking in the back yard when my sister comes running in our direction.  Well, I guess Sheron was just not in the mood for my sister so she picks her up and throws her in the pool.  Oh no you di'int!

Granted the pool was small, but hoooooold on just . a . minute!  I was not happy. I was never overprotective of my sister and in my family we had to learn to stand up for ourselves but come on now, it was so uncalled for I wanted to punch Sheron right in the face.  No, she isn't one of the three people I've punched in my lifetime.  I just remember fuming at the thought that she would do such a thing.

My sister was one of the cutest little kids I have ever seen.  She had this cute little round face with big beautiful eyes and she was, as still is, so well tempered.  As her older sister there were times she got on my nerves because that's what little sisters do to big sisters.  But for someone to come into our domain and do something like that was just uncalled for. 

I don't remember how it worked out but of course after a while Sheron and I went back to being friends and she'd call late at night and come running down the alley like a crazy kid.  She'd talk me into walking to Mr. Ed's Liquor when I didn't want to go and of course she'd help me convince my parents that we needed to go to Skateland on Saturday afternoons.  She was an influence of sorts in my life.  Sometimes she could get me to do things that no one else would have been able to get me to do.  She'd get me to talk about boys, or more often list to her talk to boys because she was boy crazy.

After middle school Sheron's parents divorced and she moved in with her dad.  We lost touch for a short while and then after we graduated from high school she would stop by the house now and then until one day when she moved back into the house her mother still owned and had rented for years.  It was great to have her back and she'd still call me in the evenings but now she'd ask if I wanted to come over while her husband was out playing drums somewhere.  We picked right back up where we were except that, I didn't feel like I had to do everything she said anymore. 

Sheron has been a great friend through the years.  She calls or sends me a birthday card every year without fail.  And not too long ago we met at her cousins house for an evening of rememberence.  It's so great to know that after all these years and time apart we can still pick up as if we'd never lived far from each other.

That's what real friendship is.  Calls late at night when you need to talk to someone.  Phone calls that may come only once a year at birthday time.  Old ragged pictures of Sheron and I playing the piano with our toes that bring back the best memories of our youth, even if they do include your little sister looking waterlogged.

Thanks for being a friend Sheron (I'd add our piano picture but my computers arent working at the moment).