Note to self:

Test post from BB :)

25 Things About Me

Because I am a copy cat and because I'm sure you were all dying to know, here are my 25 things about me:

(Idea totally stolen from Airing My Dirty Laundry's blog earlier this week.)

1. My hair is naturally curlier than it has a right to be. We're talking a cross between Bernadette Peters and a Spanish Water Dog curly, not wildly sexy Julia-Roberts-a'la-Pretty Woman curly. I used to spend 30 minutes a day flat ironing it.

2. I will be 39 next month and I'm kind of freaking out about that. It's also why I don't want to spend 30 minutes on hair anymore.

3. The way to my heart is through a pedicure.

4. I adore high heels and sometimes I buy them but then I feel like a little girl playing dress up so I end up wearing flip flops instead.

5. I once drove all the way across the country from California to Virginia by way of Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Tennessee pulling a U-Haul in a Suburban with 3 boys, my 89 year old great grandmother, and a cat. (Mr. Jones had flown out ahead of us to start working.) It took 7 days/6 nights. We all survived. 

6. I am allergic to walnuts but not pecans. They give me blisters in and around my mouth & swell my throat. This is not something you want to see. Ever.

7. My newest favorite book is The Help by Kathryn Stockett.

8. As a little girl my favorite book was On The Banks Of Plum Creek. For a time I believed myself to be the reincarnation of Laura Ingalls. 

9. As a tween my favorite book was Jacob I Have Loved. 

10. As a teen my favorite book was Flowers In The Attic. (And then all of the VC Andrews books ad nauseum.)

11. The other way to my heart is through strawberry a strawberry patch. I love to go berry picking & then eat them all gone. 

12. Last month I got offended at the wild bunny rabbits who hop through our backyard because they didn't touch the head of cabbage I gave them for days. For. Days. "It's not poison you know!" I maybe cried to them from the kitchen window. 

13. My favorite sitcom is The Big Bang Theory. I big-puffy-heart-love nerdy guys. 

14. I have 4 tattoos, this always shocks people because only the one on my inner ankle is visible. It's a pink daisy with a red ladybug. I wonder if the butterfly above my belly button will look like a moth when I'm 85?

15. If we don't move back home to California, then someday I'd like to move to Nashville. 

16. I am also allergic to stupid people. 

17. If it were up to me, every meal would be either Mexican food or cereal. 

18. In February I joined one of those bootcamp for women exercise classes. This can also be referred to as "the time I went insane". Susan Powter I am not. 

19. My idea of a hot date is dinner & a stand-up comedy show. 

20. I fully believe that since I am the only woman in the house I should never have to take out the trash. 

21. My biggest pet peeve in the whole wide world is eating noises. Unless something is crunchy, we should not hear you smacking your chops. I especially hate it when actors over-act the act of eating. Really? You have to suck your teeth & make gulping sounds between sentences? I wanted to beat Brad Pitt to a pulp in Ocean's Eleven. And I'm still not sure how "Eat, Pray, Love" made my top 10 movie list considering it's all about some chowin' down. 

22. My favorite SATC girl is Charlotte. 

23. I traumatized my husband with information I found on ancestry.com. That's an "in the near future" blog story. My own ancestry currently appears to be pretty damn boring; however I remain diligent in my quest to find a royalty link somewhere. It's got to be there. I can feel it. 

24. The only game show I like is Jeopardy.

25. I love going to watch plays. In the theater, at a high school, musical or not. 

Your turn? 

WARNING: Bad sentence structure ahead

Just so ya know, I'm long winded tonight....

First, and most importantly, thank you to so many of you for your kind words this past Friday. I made it through the work day with mascara intact! And I even spent the evening doing something a little different - something fun with a girlfriend who proposed a new way of honoring Kaitlyn: with a toast instead of a tear. 

Her name is Tina & she took me to a really yummy Indian place for dinner. Because she's, like, sophisticated n' stuff. 


I'd never been to an Indian restaurant before (kind of on purpose because the smell of curry makes me want to hurl) and the only other time I've even eaten Indian food is when Tina ordered some take-out - but this place was wonderful. :) 


I had the ginger-mango chicken in "medium" and HELLOOO spicy mama! I should have known when the waitress asked "mild, medium, hot or Indian hot" that they meant business in the caliente department. Luckily I lurves me some spicy. 


I also indulged with lots and lots of naan (bread?) and some kind of cilantro based sauce and some other sauce that may or may not be called Pinot Grigio. 


Tina ordered a drink that looked alot like ice cold pepto bismal in a tall frosty glass but really it was non-alcoholic fruit-milk (?) since she was the DD. Have I told you how many awesomes it is to be carted around on a girl-date in a silver convertible Mustang? LOVE IT. 

Tina is also my artsy friend (we saw Wicked together) so dinner was not all she had lined up for me that evening. After we were sufficiently full and I was warm & fuzzy from my wine spicy chicken we headed to the Starving Artist Studio and painted us some pottery.


And ate some more. 


Because no one is EVER too full for a chocolate fondue bar. 


This is my mug - oh, and also my travel coffee cup that I painted. We pick our pieces up this week, I'm so esssited to see how it turned out. :)

We went here, the Starving Artists Studio:

If you can't come to this one, find one near you. Go ahead and Google "paint your own pottery" ~ I'll wait. 


~~~

Saturday sort of became a make up day for Friday - where I let myself go and spent some time with a box of tissue and travelling down memory lane. Mother Nature and I seemed to be on the same wavelength ~ the storm outside mirrored my feelings inside. 

With Sunday came sunshine ~ also inside & out. As a matter of fact, it was all that sunshine in my face that made me see the horror of my eyebrows and ew, nails. Clearly time for a little appearance-maintenance. I love love love a pedicure ~ hot wax or sitting still for a manicure not so much. But the next 2 weekends are gonna be busy, the time was now. (Or then.)

Can I just say that if you are a creature of habit like me that it's okay to stay within your comfort zone?  Let's go with "it's Tina's fault" for what happened when I chose to hit up a different salon. 


All this time I have been perfectly content going to my little down-trodden nail shop with its 4 pedicure chairs and 6 manicure stations but only 2 actual people who work there. But my inner voice sounded suspiciously Tina-like when it was all "why go to that depressing little hole in the wall, dahling, when you can upgrade to the fancy place with the chandelier and the golden buddha for the same price?"....

You thought I was kidding about the chandelier & gold buddha??

BAD IDEA.

They were mean to me you guys. 


Meaner than the Rodeo Drive shops were to Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. 


So mean that they did this to me:

Because apparently? I had a beard. Only I didn't. A fact I could have argued with the little old asian lady over had I only understood what she was saying under her sars mask BEFORE she slapped hot wax on my cheek. 

What I THOUGHT she asked me while I was laying back with my eyes closed all vulnerable was if I like my eyebrows thin. I replied "yes, shape them up please". 


Then, slap - aaaah! I sat up, opened my eyes, and gave her the "please don't kill me" look - to which she replied "it ok, I make you sexxy for summatye, good for skin, you relax."


I relax. Sure. Who doesn't relax with their double chin being ripped off one strip at a time? 

Due to "Miss Swann's" advantage over my precarious situation, I decide to not piss her off while she stops me from "alookin' like a man".

The immediate results: see above, lasted 2 hours.

The final results: unnoticeable difference - she did not, by any definition, make me sexxy.

Husbands comments: What the...?? Did they jump you in at the salon? Are you in a gang now? 

Yeah. I'm gangsta and I roll with balls of yarn. 

April Showers

Before April showers have a chance to bring those May flowers, it brings a flood of memories from the saddest day of our lives.

Katie's Day.

Her story is here, please forgive my heart, I don't have the wherewith-all to retell it at the moment. I hope you  will go read it...

I hesitate to use the words "easy" and "better" because neither are adjectives for the loss of a baby - but in regards to the years, some are better than others. This Friday marks number 12. A dozen years since my only daughter was born and died.

During the day I am taking extra measures to doll up the exterior to hide the grief on the interior. Seems superficial I know, but you learn what works and what works for me is smiling. It keeps the lump in my throat down. The tears flow at night when the kids have all gone to sleep and I'm safe in my husbands arms.

Almost always I take the day off. Unfortunately, this year, I will be working because the income is really important. Bright side: it's a Friday.

I am very good at self-control but I'm human and if ever a person deserves a day to be completely self-absorbed mine would be Katie's Day. My emotions on April 15th of any year run the gammit from melancholy to you-don't-wanna-eff-with me. My heartache becomes a scale by which I measure everything selfishly.

I could've asked for the day off in advance except that would've required an explanation. I'm not good at those on "the day of". For me,on any other day of any other month, I can talk about it. April 15th rolls around and I don't want to share and I don't want a hug and I'm not looking for pity, just space. Space (and grace) to be a big fat hot mess so that the rest of the year I can be normal. Whatever the hell normal is. 

I'm lucky to have some beautiful friends back home that know this about me.

Friends that knew us then.

Friends that where there at the funeral.

Friends that still go to Katie's grave and leave flowers because I can't from 3000 miles away.

Friends that don't just go on her birthday & friends that know that texting me pictures of her little headstone is what makes me smile, not cry.

Friends that provide the strongest support system anyone could ask for.

Truly-amazing-awesome-no-holds-barred-got-your-back-loyalty type of friendships are rare, but they are forever.

These are a couple I have received in the past year....

Instead I will ask for Max's birthday off to celebrate his awesomeness. He was born 1 year & 2 weeks to the day after his big sister. He's my lifesaver, my rainbow after the storm.

Yeah, I'd have to say I'm blessed in the 'son' department.

(Me: Ok, pose like Brett Michaels! Them: Um, who is Brett Michaels?) 

(Me: Does it hurt? Him: You know how they say there is no such thing as a dumb question? Well...)

~~~

April Showers ~ Sugarland

early to bed, early to rise....

....makes me yawn & stretch & time to come alive. (like Dolly!)

wow it feels crazy to be up this early without a perfectly good reason. i think the last time i purposely crawled out of bed and into the shower at 4:30 in the morning was when i worked for the trucking company back home & had to be there by 6. i was off by noon. that job was AWESOME. i think i loved every second of every day there, really & truly. the only reason i left was because we moved here.

i will never forget the look on my boss Butch's face when i gave my notice. he was a big tough guy, super clean cut, would put you in the mind of the guy who played THING on Fantastic Four ( pre-turned-to-stone-hulky dude of course!). and since he was a graduate of VMI, he knew exactly what i would be in for moving to Virginia.

"shellshock" is what he said. i didn't believe him. he spent 6 days trying to talk me out of it. after that he made peace with it and said if he couldn't stop us, then we had his blessing.

the big undercover sweetheart that he was made a few phone calls to a friend of his who worked for a sister company out here in a place called Portsmouth, told him i was headed this way & said he'd be a fool not to hire me. so the guy did. right there, over the phone one day. but i never took the job.

turns out, i was utterly and completely shellshocked. Butch was right. i called him to say as much and you know what? he never once muttered the words "i told you so". because awesome people don't do that shit.

i kicked and screamed and pitched a fit every week wanting to go home those first two years. eventually i settled in. or maybe i just got tired of fighting a losing battle.

but that restless feeling is back. Virginia is not our forever home. it's a lovely area in alot of places, but the people....well, i just can't figure them out.

~have an amazing day! peace out.

and ps: holy crap but that pic made my eyes well up with tears. that dude looks so much like Butch, makes me miss him all over again.
best.boss.ever.

The One Where My Wallet Performs A Vanishing Act

Not to be a Debbie Downer, but you know what sucked in 2010? Getting my wallet stolen.

Or at least I think it was stolen. 

I did all the usual brain-wracking & visually re-tracing of my steps, but none of it conjured up images of having put it anywhere other than right back in my purse. 

I called the grocery store where I had last been, but they said there was nothing in the lost & found box. Then I went there in person, because you never know if the gum-smacking Flo on the other end is really looking, y'know? You'd wanna be sure too. 

Panic had settled in for the long haul and I couldn't sit still at work while my Betty Boop wallet was missing instead of tucked in my purse where it belonged. Plus a long holiday weekend was looming. My drivers licenses (current VA and sentimental CA), my social security card, my cards. No cash though. But the whole reason there was no cash is because there was a debit card - the only one linked to the bank account where I had just deposited my paycheck. GASP! No access to bank means NO access to grocery store. I had to go!

I ran home where hubby had searched high and low but to no avail. Then I RE-searched high and low because, Hello, he's a man and sometimes when he's looking in the refrigerator he can't see the butter for the milk. 


After that, I dug out my birth certificate, our marriage certificate, bills for proof of address - more panic! OMG, what will they think at DMV when they see that my gas bill is past due? Oh hell, no time for that. Go! Go! Go! 

I got ahead of myself earlier because this is the part where I stop at the grocery store to look over gum-smacking Flo's shoulder while she roots through the Drawer Of Lost Mittens & Baby Teething Keys. Do people really go back looking for baby's lost teething keys? That's just all kinds of gross. Even if you boiled them why would you want to stick them back in your kids gummy little mouth ever again? I guess people don't which is why they are still in that drawer and in which case why doesn't Flo just throw them away so she can better search for my Betty Boop wallet? No use. They could dump the drawer completely out and it still wouldn't be in there. 

The assistant store manager offered to let me come back later & watch the surveillance footage. How friggin awesome is that?! I'm sure its because I told them about the old man in the Dallas Cowboys coat who had asked me for money in the parking lot the evening before. Even though I told him I didn't have any he still took my buggy back to the cart return for me. He even waved goodbye. Someone mentioned that he could have pick-pocketed me but he never got that close. The shopping buggy was always between us and the guy is there alot. I'm not sure what his gig is, but he's not gross or creepy. He sometimes mentions having a wife but I think he drifts down from the veterans hospital and hangs out. 

It suddenly occurs to me that I know way too much about the Dallas Cowboy panhandler. But I'm observant when in parking lots thanks to my fear of someone stealing all my groceries while I'm loading them into the car. 

Next stop, the credit union. Where more awesome people work. The bank manager was super kind and very understanding and even printed out a ginormous copy of my drivers license that they had on file. Not that anyone will accept it as a legal form of identification, but it helped me. I still can only spout my California DL number. I've never memorized my Virginia one. I'll work on that this year. 

Twenty minutes later I had a brand-shiny-new atm card in my hand and was headed to the DMV.

I bet those three little letters made you cringe huh? They do me that way too. 

DMV: The place nobody ever likes to go because it's always something.


Long lines, dumb people, rude people, mean people, the stupid eye charts, the picture taking. Do they get hand me down camera's from the cops or what? I don't care who you are, you know you look like a convict on your driver's license. All that's missing is booking numbers. 

But guess what? I was in and out of there in lickity split time too. The lady at the information counter didn't even need to see my past due bill or anything! She gave me a form and a bingo number and pointed to a bank of chairs. I looked for an area with at least 2 or 3 empty seats surrounding it. I don't like to sit right next to people if I don't have to. I didn't find one so I had to sit next to this guy with, you'll never guess, a twitch. If ever I have to sit directly next to a person in a row of connecting seats they always have to have a twitch. Or the sniffles. It's my lot in life. I can never meet the "good" kind of interesting people, always the twitchy/sniffly/humming/gassy kind.

I didn't last long. I filled out my form, checked the bingo board to see how close I was to getting my number called, and headed to the ladies room. (Can I just say I don't think actual "ladies" use that room? More like they brought in some monkeys from the zoo to let them bathe in the sinks & splash water everywhere. Gross.) I went to grab a wad of paper towels to dry off a place on the counter so I could set down my wallet-free purse. Evidently, paper was not on the supply list this week. So I gripped my purse between my thighs and rearranged my bangs and removed the eyeliner smudges from under my eyes. 

Then I stood back and stared at myself in the mirror, realizing with defeat that on my new government issue I.D. I was going to look like the offspring of Medusa and Gene Wilder. Only less cute.

The little old man from UP processed my new drivers license for me. He even sort of grunted as he worked (see lot in life comment above). Grunting and chicken pecking keyboard skills aside though, he was very efficient and he didn't make small talk. Two qualities I prefer in a DMV employee. 

Feeling a little tornado-whipped, I returned to the office where I finally allowed myself the time to think about the possibility of my wallet having been stolen there. We had a worker guy come in to pack up the holiday decor that I felt uneasy about. Someone who many people have told me worrisome things about, including my coworker who mentioned double checking the safety of her own wallet when she saw him the last time. I'm not used to being around people like that and I don't really like it. I hate to sound so judgmental and base my opinion of someone I don't even know on the stories others have told me, but at the same time, I'd be stupid to not at least heed the warning. 

I shared my concern with my boss who immediately felt that my fear was probably not true but understood my need to ask. She has known the guy for a long time and provided him with side jobs and says he has always had her trust. That was total crap. When she helped to look it wasn't to ease my worries, it was to save face because I'm pretty sure she knew her creep worker had taken it. Ok thats not nice. In fairness, he had but one opportunity to really take it (and he probably did) and there's no way of knowing for sure if he did or not (except my Jedi-mind powers tell me so). 


My gut is so not satisfied. 

And what exactly do you do when you have a gut feeling but absolutely no proof? Well, I'll tell you.You alert everyone linked to anything in your wallet and you start over. It sucks. But it is what it is and I can't just go around pissing people off without evidence. 

I still haven't found a replacement wallet yet. The one I had was given to me by my kids several years ago. I'll keep looking. Wallet shopping is not as easy as it sounds. I keep comparing everything to the Betty Boop one I'll never see again. 

Now where is my crochet hook? I have a pizza scarf to get busy on....

Oooooh, aaaaah, MALABRIGIO WOOL hand dyed to look like cheesy goodness!