I talk to my E-friends more than my IRL friends...is that wrong?

I'm a little freaked out about it.  I mean, I already knew that I was completely dependent on technology at work and would probably be struck mute if I had to answer a question when the server wasn't working.

But that's different.  That's not my fault.  I can't help it if the business world has gone paperless.  All I can do is adapt like the good worker bee that I am.

I think my problem started with texting.  I rarely speak to my kids in person anymore.  Even when they're home, I text them.  It's just so much easier.  I get quick, abbreviated, generic replies.  There's no discernible tone or attitude to tiptoe or stomp on my parental nerve endings, thus keeping my blood pressure and my temper at more manageable levels.  Plus, I can still text in my "mommy" tone which basically just requires me to use short clipped sentences in all CAPS.

Phone calls and get togethers were still the norm for socializing with my friends though.  But then came this Blog and Facebook.  It happened gradually due to my disdain of the electronic egotism of those around me.  I was positive I would always prefer direct communication over the emotionally stilted contact provided via this two dimensional vehicle of social destruction.

I was wrong.

I love it...love it...LOVE it!

I can control whom I speak with and when I speak to them.  I can be witty, humorous and intelligent, thanks to editing and time delay.  I mean, how many times have you played back a conversation (argument) with someone and come up with something wonderful (scathing) that you wished you had thought of at the time.  Well, guess what?  Through the beautiful medium provided via the information highway, you can.

I love both sets of friends but I definitely communicate more frequently with my E-friends.  It's so much easier and less demanding that way.  Since I could be the Queen of Lazytown (as long as the title didn't require me to do anything), in my world the terms easy and less demanding translate to better.  And let us not forget the addictive nature that accompanies a simple two syllable word:  Comment(s).  (it should come with a warning)

When I realize I have a Comment, I can feel my heart rate increase and I try to take my time in order to savor the anticipation but like any other crackhead, I need my fix and I need it NOW.  Just back off people and let me enjoy the buzzing in my head for a minute...or two.  Ahhhhh, nothing better than a nice braingasm to get through the day.  (well, there is SOMETHING better but this isn't that kind of post)

My E-friends bring me happiness as easily as my IRL friends.  The difference being that they bring it to me in small controlled doses and apparently my psyche craves that kind of slow torture...but let's not delve any further into that area.

The point is that I prefer this form of virtual socializing to the extent that my own family is now seeking acknowledgement from me through my blog.  They provide me with photos (I really like using photos or funny cartoons to accentuate my posts, in case you couldn't tell) and funny stories in hopes that I might use it in some way. 

I have no idea if they are just trying to feed their own egos or if I have left them with no other means to bond with their new Cyber mom/wife. 

Either way, I have learned my lesson and I will have a talk with my family tonight...you know, just to reconnect.  I won't have to explain my motives because I've already posted them in this blog.

My hubby, who is a complete Cyber hubby, is a lot more understanding about the whole thing.  He has been an addict longer than I and has therefore built up a resistance.  I am satisfied with one Comment but that's not enough for him anymore.  The Comments have to keep coming and he has gone to some major lengths to get them, even using cute pictures of his own nephew just to get an "awwwww" Comment.  I'm getting to that stage myself.  I can feel it. 

My attachment to real people has thinned.  It's kind of like that weird privacy zone that silently forms when you get in an elevator with strangers.  But that may only be my issue.  My hubby is friendly and social whether in two dimensions or three.  That's one of the things I've always enjoyed about him.  He loves to talk to elevator people, maybe it's the muzak that inspires him.

Either way, we are quite the homebodies and rarely go anywhere.  So tonight, I'm going to suggest we take a walk or if this wind keeps up, at least open the drapes and enjoy the view.

"Wow...look at THAT honey!  Honey?"

"Hang on...I'm getting my camera."  *click* 

"Where are you going?"

"I've got to post that picture right now."

"I can't believe you.  Haven't you been paying attention to what I've been trying to tell you?"

"Huh?"

"It was my idea to look out the window.   I should get to post that picture..."

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

(for those of you who don't know, E-friends are how I refer to the people I talk to on-line and IRL friends are my friends In Real Life.  there are some people who fit both categories and I think I love them most of all)



Moody Monday? Holiday Burnout? Who knows...

Here's something that made me giggle when I have mostly just wanted to gag all day.  I don't know if anyone is feeling the way I am today but if they are, I hope this cheers you up a little, plus the knowledge that you are not alone in that dark and dreary place you're huddled in.  I'm there, you just can't see me.

A Glimpse Tells You Nothing

The young girl looks though the glass.  She can see through the living room to the dining room and all the way to the kitchen.  There must be close to twenty people in there.  She can hear their voices, their laughter and even the soft sound of Christmas music in the background.  She can see their faces, their smiles and the little comfortable touches some of them exchange. 

Food is being prepared as the long table is set for the large group of family and friends.  Children are running around giggling and squealing merrily as they use the various adults standing around as part of the obstacle course they have created in their impromptu game of indoor tag.  This lasts until one of the children makes contact with an elderly lady carrying a gravy boat and the collision contains more bump than bounce.  As the spilled gravy is cleaned up, the children have been scooted into another room to play.

The house is filled with soft light from the Christmas tree and the fireplace as well as a sparkling chandelier that hangs protectively over the long dining table.  The velvet texture of the light blurs the edges of the glass and adds to the magic of the scene it reveals.  A smile plays across the little girl's lips as she imagines herself running about with those children, feeling the pureness of joy that is born from childish innocence and the gift of unfettered freedom that comes from loving parents.  The wonder of it all fills her with a peace she has never known in her short life.

Then, someone calls her name.  It's her brother.  She closes her eyes and tries to ignore him.  The sound of her name tugs at her and she realizes she can't stay here any longer.  The world she's been watching isn't hers.  She belongs on her own side of the glass.  Maybe someday, she would find a way in but it was doubtful they would let her stay.  She was different from them.  The girl knew in her heart that if she tried to get in, she would destroy that beautiful flawless world. So, she just watches them though the glass. 

Her brother's voice is getting louder and the girl quickly jumps up, takes one last look into the large gilded hall mirror and hurries over to the long table under the sparkling chandelier.

A Letter to God by my Yorkie-Poo, AKA Chubaka or Chuey

Dear God: 

Let me give you a list of just some of the things I must remember to be a good Dog..



1. I will not eat the cats' food before they eat it or after they throw it up. 



Somebody has to clean it up.  I am completely misunderstood and my efforts continually go unappreciated.

2. I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc., just because I like the way they smell.

3. The Litter Box is not a cookie jar.

4. The sofa is not a 'face towel'.

But it is MY sofa

5. The garbage collector is not stealing our stuff.



Oh but he is and I WILL be keeping my eyes on you, Trashy!

6. I will not play tug-of-war with Dad's underwear when he's on the toilet.

I thought it was mine.  How was I supposed to know?  Look at how they dress me.

7.  Sticking my nose into someone's crotch is an unacceptable way of saying 'hello'.

8. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur before entering the house - not after.

9. I will not come in from outside and immediately drag my butt across the carpet.

Unless of course it itches and then all bets are off.

10. I will not sit in the middle of the living room and lick my crotch.

11. The cat is not a 'squeaky toy' so when I play with him and he makes that noise, it's usually not a good thing.

But it is a very VERY funny thing.

P.S.  Dear God: When I get to Heaven may I have my testicles back?

Talk about emasculating!  It's a wonder I'm as well behaved as I am.

Silent Monks Singing Halleluia

A little entertainment since I don't have time to post today.  Too busy Christmas shopping.  Procrastinators, UNITE!

The loss of a disconnected friend

I've known you longer than I've known my children.  Not a close friend but a family friend, one with whom I associate fond memories and sincere affection. 

You were one of four then. 

Since our connection was third party really, when that party departed, the connection was severed.  I had heard some news not too long ago.  It was hard to believe and I wished all of you well but the distance was vast and my prayers were all I had to offer.

You were one of three then.

I would see the three of you on a rare Sunday.  We would say hello, hug, and exchange pleasantries, complimenting each other's children and reminiscing over the "lighter, brighter" days.  In the end, we would head off in our own directions, once again disconnected.

Now there are two...and you aren't one of them.

The news was shocking-a tragic accident.  It seemed false somehow.  A story about a stranger except that it was about you.  You have been in my thoughts the last couple of days and this morning, I could feel you in the air.  In the beautiful day that greeted me, after the cold gray mornings of the past couple of weeks.  In that blush of pink and sunshine all around me, I felt you.

Though you are gone, you are not forgotten, my disconnected friend.

WTH is going on with FB profiles?

• What the h3ll is happening to Facebook profiles?

I have always considered myself an adaptable person.  As a matter of fact, I have taken a lot of pride in the way I handle change.  When I use the word change, I mean it, I am not referring to problems, roadblocks or other forms of mayhem.  The latter are NOT things I handle well unless you consider exploding into a high volume rant, followed by a tsunami of tears, resulting in a hiccuping, snot dripping, red-eyed adult finally appearing, a good way to handle problems.  If you do, than I ROCK!

Anyway, back to my original gripe.  I have always embraced change but in my humble opinion, change should be triggered by reason and function.  This profile thing may have some tech-y reason but it does not help me, the FB user...at...all.

How do I let my FB friends know how I feel?  Are they only supposed to randomly discover this via the News Feed?  I don't know about the rest of you but I know my loyal and conscientious FBer's go to their friends' walls to check statuses and to post random and / or uplifting comments.  But now, when they arrive at my wall, can they just glance at the top to check my current emotional or mental state (i.e. my status?)  Nope, not if my profile has been updated they can't.

If I wish to show my support for a worthy cause by posting something on my status for a specified amount of time, will it show at the top of my wall as a moral flagship waving in the virtual wind...not if my profile has been updated.

And then, to rub salt in the wound, the new and "improved" profile also lists your most recent photos along the top.  Well guess what Facebook?  Not all of us are proud of every photo posted and maybe, just maybe, that photo I posted from my office Christmas party (with my skirt tucked into the back of my pantyhose while doing the marcarena) wasn't something I wanted streaming on the top of my wall.  Did you ever think of that?

If this is the result of change, get me a horse and buggy.  I will do my social networking though the Pony Express!

side note: I have no idea how to spell marcarena and spellchecker wanted to change it to macaroni so I apologize if it is misspelled.

My breath catching...my stomach fluttering...my pulse racing

At first...the innocence of connection...

 And then...the anticipation...the urgency...the uncertainty...I remember it...

My breath catching...my stomach fluttering...my pulse racing...I can feel it.

When it began, my emotions were so sharp; my mind so clouded.  Hope and fear resided in my heart, keeping rhythm. 

As time passes, the clouds clear and the intensity dulls a little.  Strangely, I find that hope and fear still rhythmically pulse within my chest...

...Some things just don't change

I like the way I feel now.  It's easier to contain.  It's real.   But sometimes, I miss that overwhelming swirl of...love?...lust?...maybe both.

I do know I can sometimes find the echo of those feelings when I look into his eyes.  I think that's where my hope stems from...

...but the fear comes from the knowledge that those feelings are alive and well within me today and I feel them, full force, whenever he looks into my eyes.  It's as wonderful and terrifying as it's always been.

                       And I hope...always will be...

Post-Thanksgiving Hangover

Having overeaten and busted any diet plans I may or may not have had prior to the holiday season, I can't help but feel a little down in the dumps. 

On top of the usual depression, my husband battled a horrific bout of food poisoning (gotta love that age old tradition of stuffing a turkey with breadcrumbs, letting it soak up all of those turkey fluids and then serving and eating said breadcrumbs...great tradition). 

I arrived back from California with a shivering, weakened hubby, one healthy daughter, and another daughter with a fever of 101.9.  We were worn out, grumpy and pretty sick of each other.  Family road trips tend to do that to us.

Once we were settled in, I received a call from my Mom that her heater was out and she's been freezing for the past few days waiting for us to get back to town.  She said she didn't want to call the repairman because he's Hispanic so she would rather my husband, who is also Hispanic, call him.  (Just so you know, the repairman speaks English just fine but my Mom feels that he would prefer to speak Spanish...this from my Thai mother, who has a heavy accent herself but is offended when people want to speak to her in Thai)  Needless to say, my husband called the repairman and drove across town (45 min.) so he could talk to the guy while he fixed my Mom's heater.

My daughter has been home sick for the last two days.  Most of the time, my 17 yr old daughter is nowhere to be found, even when she's home, it's like she's invisible.  But not now.  Oh no!  Now that she's a living breathing receptacle for viruses and infestations...she wants to cuddle.  I have tried to avoid her advances, while trying not to hurt her feelings (quite the balancing act...as my fellow victims of harassment are aware).  However, despite all my valiant efforts, I AM SICK.

Ever the dependable employee, I'm here at the office, sneezing and coughing all over the clients and ready to pass out over my keyboard.  But I am here.  I don't want to be at home tending to a sick hubby and child anyway because I am ever the dependable wife and mother as well.  (Well...at least I play one on this Blog) ;D

I want to escape it all and go hide under a rock until the Holidays are over because with all of these lovely events occurring within my happy home, I still have this weekend to contend with.  What happens this weekend, you ask?  It is the thing I dread more than anything...Christmas Shopping Hell!

That's right folks.  Battling traffic, running reconnaissance missions to obtain a decent parking space (one that doesn't require you to walk 3 blocks and risk being mugged for your Christmas goodies), dealing with other grumpy shoppers and their greedy little children (who are also little viral receptacles at this time of year), and then there's the problem of finding the right gifts for everyone before the other shopper gets it. 

I see her, casually walking by the panty drawer at Pink.  Acting as if she's just browsing.  You're not gonna get one over on me, Lady.  I need ALL of the size 4 boyshorts in that drawer.  I've got two giant Christmas stockings to stuff for two very petite and picky teenagers, dammit.  That b!tch better move the hell away from there...Oh...uh...Hi Mom...I didn't recognize you.  I don't know what you're talking about.  I wasn't glaring at you and no...that was not a taser I was pulling out of my purse, that was my cell phone.  Maybe you should sit down.  I think these crowds might be getting to you a little.

I will get though this.  I WILL get through this.  Maybe I should just shop on-line...of course, then I have to watch out for all of those identity thieves out there in the cyberworld.  But I'll be ready, taser...uh, I mean cell phone in hand.

Good luck my fellow shoppers but remember: Stay Out Of My Way :)

Perspective

Everyone has their own specific point of view.  Bloggers are a great sampling of that.

For example, a lot of us will be traveling for the Holidays and even if you are lucky enough to have avoided becoming a member of our bedraggled group this particular Holiday season, you would be hard-pressed to avoid all of the reports on our current airline security measures.  (unless of course you live on a desert island, in which case, great job constructing internet access with coconuts and seashells, Professor)

Regardless of your opinion on the matter (which means, I don't really care...except if you're posting it in an amusing or heartfelt blog post or comment), I have found a diverse array of postings: funny, angry, happy, annoyed, etc...oh, and of course terrified (that is expected though since that particular blogger is a 97 yr old great-grandma who is in fact a radical extremist, at least in the knitting world). 

I think that's why I enjoy reading blogs in the first place.  I've discovered I've learned a lot about myself and human nature by reading the posts of total strangers.  Who knew??

Clearly, we all see things differently.  We will never find another person who agrees or disagrees with us on everything (if you do, run away quickly, they're either lying to you or it's your evil clone...run...RUN)

I guess it's all in our perspective:

A Bad Morning

 I don't know about the rest of you but on Friday mornings I try to motivate myself into having a great day at work so that I can start my weekend on a high note:

I have to admit that I felt pretty darn good as I headed off to the office.  Gotta love that positive thinking sh*%!

As I got on the road, making pretty good time I might add, I drove by the following sign (quite rapidly and without really paying much attention):

(read the small print at the bottom)  Damned smartaSSed sign guy!!

Naturally, I almost drive off  the bridge.  It was a pretty big mess and caused a traffic situation of its own, which resulted in yet another road sign:

Somehow, that made me feel much better.  Self-serving B*tch that I am!!!

I did eventually make it to the office and I tried to re-capture that positive feeling from earlier that day:

But it didn't work.  By lunchtime, I pretty much looked like this:

Know the feeling??

By the time 5 o'clock rolled around I was ready to let off some steam.  I stopped by a house party someone had mentioned to me:

Then I tried going into the city to see what was happening there:

But I guess I just wasn't quite as cool as I felt.  So I gave up and went through the drive-thru of my favorite local coffeehouse and treated myself to my drink of choice on the way home:

Woohoo!  Now that's a good time!

Have a great weekend everyone.  Hopefully this didn't offend any of you barnyard animals or sign guys out there... ;D

"The Gift of an Ordinary Day" by Katrina Kenison

THIS IS BEAUTIFUL. Every parent and every child should watch this...so...that would mean everyone...right?

It takes a while but is truly worth the time...Enjoy!

A 40 yr old opinion of youth

When I was in Junior High, I went to a small Catholic School in Maui.  There was a cemetary in a sectioned off area in plain view of our classroom windows.  It was a tiny old graveyard. Most of the gravestones had too much water damage to make out clearly.  It was called the Seaman's Cemetary.  Whenever a rainstorm lasted too long and the ground became soaked, we would hear loud sucking noises and the old wooden coffins would bubble up out of the ground.  Occasionally, a lid would slide off.  It was the most exciting thing that would happen at school.  We would scream and giggle as the boys made spooky sounds and chased us around the classroom. 

Today, as you can see, the cemetary has been refurbished and expanded.

It would take Sister quite a while to calm us back down.  Once calm, she would have us pray for the souls in those graves and their families.  She would always try to use the opportunity to explain to us the value of life, how it could end in the blink of an eye, and why we should strive to live a good life so we can leave this earth without regrets.  I remember the pious expressions on all of our faces as we listened to her speak.  Quietly contemplating her words of wisdom.

What we were actually doing was waiting for the bell to ring so we could run around to the old cemetary and dare each other to get closer and take a peak inside the open coffins.  Death wasn't really scary to us back then (as in the realization of our own mortality), it was spooky (as in ghosts and zombies).  Few of us had even experienced the loss of a loved one yet.

Today, as I reflect back on what the Sister was telling us, I get it.  I have lost people I love dearly and I can feel my mortality more and more each year.  Even though I would guess my dare-devil side has had to take a back seat with this revelation, I also find I enjoy the small moments now as much as I do the big ones, maybe even more.

Young people tend to see each day as endless and death as just a rumor at the end of a very long road. 

I find that I both envy and pity them for this.

Going Out to Eat

I remember as a child how excited I would get when I was told that we were going out to eat.  My mom would pick out a dress for me and she would spend a long time brushing out my hair and putting it up.  I had ridiculously long hair as a child and I couldn't even brush it myself but my mom never seemed to mind doing it.  My parents, my sister and I would hop in the car and off we would go.

I would sit in the back seat looking out the window, wondering where we would go and what kind of food we would have.  For some reason I would never ask.  Maybe I subconsciously enjoyed the speculation.  There was a feeling of excitement in the air.  At least there was in the back seat.  I'm sure my parents were probably able to restrain themselves but my sister and I would be close to bursting by the time we got out of the car.

When we were seated, I would get to have a Shirley Temple or a Cherry Coke which was exciting in itself since I was rarely allowed to have sugary drinks let alone carbonated ones.  It seemed to me the waiter or waitress would always make sure the drink contained extra cherries for me, although in hindsight, my mom probably had something to do with it.

I never actually looked at the menu since my mom always knew what I would want and she was always right.  After ordering, we would sit and talk and laugh until the food arrived.  The food was always good and everyone would be full and relaxed as we climbed in the car for the ride home.

The ride home was always quieter than the ride there.  Maybe it was the darkness enveloping us or maybe, like me, everyone was mesmerized by the lights of passing cars and traffic signals.  The interior of the car constantly changing as the multi-colored lights would dance across the windows.  My mind would wander, drifting here and there in rhythm with the lights.

As we pulled onto our driveway and then into the garage, I would allow myself to drift into a light sleep at the familiar sounds of the garage door  opening, the car being shut off and my Dad trying to get me to wake up.  I could hear him but I knew that if I stayed asleep, he would bundle me into his arms and carry me to bed.  In my mind, there was no better way to end the evening...

Yesterday, my family and I went out to dinner for my daughter's 19th birthday.  The service was okay, the food was okay, the bill was ridiculously high and by the time we got home, I felt as though I was going to be sick. 

It wasn't an Asian restaurant but the fortune fit.

My daughters went upstairs to do what teenagers do in the evenings (watch TV, text and get on the computer).  I spent the rest of the evening drinking Pepto Bismol and grumbling about wasted money and bad food.

This afternoon when I checked my FB page, I noticed that my 19 yr old daughter had posted on her status what a great family she has and what a great birthday dinner it was.  She posted how much she loved us and thanked us for giving her a great birthday...

...maybe the food wasn't that bad and you know what?  The bill was worth every single penny.

Happy Birthday Pooky Bear.  I Love You Too.

My inept attempt to avoid posting a real blog

I have been really busy at work today and just haven't had the time to post anything worth reading.  I apologize and promise to do better next time:

I am a huge animal rights activist (I'm really just an insurance agent who happens to have some pets, but whatever).  Because of this, I have been racking my brain trying to come up with a clear message to inspire people to the plight of our furry friends (or feathered or yada, yada, yada...don't want to leave anything out but as I mentioned earlier, ME = very busy).  As you will see below, I have clearly had my Aha! moment.  I have come up with a message that promotes the safety of animals as well as the people who harm them! 

Am I a genius, or what? 

(This is a rhetorical question, please do not answer it as that would defeat the purpose of it being rhetorical)

HAPPY FRIDAY

Alone at Work

My daughter is out of school for the next two days-today for Veteran's Day and tomorrow for Let's Make it a Four Day Weekend Day, I guess.  (I apologize.  That was entirely unfair.  I have no idea why they're off tomorrow.)  My other daughter is off everyday since she graduated this past school year.  The Hubby is also off everyday as he was let go in March and there are absolutely no jobs at the moment.

I am sitting here in my office with absolutely nothing to do since everyone is under the assumption that we're closed. 

It's quiet.  The radio is set to an oldies station that tends to play a lot of Elton John and The Beatles.  The weather has gotten cooler.  I can hear the wind blowing outside.  They say it might rain a little.  The sun is setting at the back of this building and I know it'll be dark soon.

I find myself thinking of my mom.  She lives alone on the other side of town. (really two towns over but it's only about 40 minutes away without traffic)  She lost her husband (my Step-Dad) about three years ago and I see her every two weeks.  She still works full-time and is in great health.  She is extremely anti-social and only interacts with people (other than us) when she's at work.  I worry about her a lot, being alone like she is.  She says she prefers her solitude now that her husband's gone.  She feels closer to him when she's alone.

I think that today, with the sky getting darker, the softly playing music and the sound of the wind blowing outside, I understand what she means. 

Right now, as I sit here, no one coming in, no phones ringing, no Emails, I can hear the quiet not only in the stillness around me but also within me.  I rarely experience this kind of stillness.  I think I like it.  It's soothing and I feel cradled within it.  I dread the thought that someone might actually call and break the spell.  I look at the clock and realize it's been like this since around 1:30.  It's 4 o'clock now.  I have an hour.

I close my eyes and think of my step-dad and all of the other people I have lost within my lifetime.  The people who have played a part in the person I am today.  I wonder what they're doing right now and I can't help but feel they're here with me.  It's comforting and re-assuring to think so.  I speak to them in my mind and try to hear their responses, which are really just echos of remembered conversations.

Then the phone rings and it's time to work...Once the conversation ends, I realize the magic is gone.  I sit here trying to pass the time until the clock strikes 5.

I do notice that there is a dull ache in my chest.  It's a familiar ache but one I rarely stop to feel anymore.  I am aware that I feel more connected to those lost family members than I have in a long time.  I'm grateful for that.  But the pain feels closer too and I'm not a big fan of that.

Is this what my mom experiences while she sits in her living room, thinking of her husband?  The closeness?  The pain?

Maybe, I'll ask her...

This is how tired I am right now

The November Tug o' War Has Begun

November is not a fun month for me, though it should be.  My oldest will be turning 19.  I will be celebrating my 11th Wedding Anniversary (second marriage).  Then of course, comes Thanksgiving. 

My 19 year old doesn't really want to spend time with her family for her birthday but at the same time doesn't yet have a job or a driver's license.  This means I get to play chauffeur and financier all day but only at a distance.  Since she's turning 19, I should be used to it by now but somehow, this year it feels different. 

I'm guessing my frustration stems from the fact that she's not working, hasn't started college yet and hasn't made much of an effort to learn how to drive.  I was prepared for the temporary loss of the mother/daughter thing as we defined our new relationship in the context of her emerging independence.  What I wasn't prepared for was her desire to "play" at adulthood without taking any genuine steps towards it.  Judging by her moodiness, I'm guessing she's feeling the same way.

Along with this, I have absolutely no desire to celebrate my anniversary at this point.  My hubby, whom I do love, is completely oblivious or in total denial, and I have no idea how to repair what I fear is permanently broken.  I am simultaneously hurt and numb, angry and disinterested. 

I have tried to discuss things openly but we are rarely alone and frequently interrupted.  Our conversations consist of small outbursts and incomplete sentences.  This has caused an ever widening gap between us.  With me choosing to keep him at arm's length while he moves along denying the problem altogether.  I do believe that he prefers avoidance to resolution in this matter since he may not like the end result.

Lastly, there's Thanksgiving.  I am part Thai and was born in Thailand though it was on a US military base.  My parents divorced when I was five and I was raised primarily by my Thai mother.  My husband is Hispanic.  He was raised by his Mexican born mother and step-father.  Therefore, it does seem odd to me that there is always such a battle of "calling dibs" at Thanksgiving.  I realize the idea of Giving Thanks could certainly be a universal idea, the actual holiday in question with the specified date is NOT.  So why do we have to fight over where we go on that specific day?

Yet somehow, each year, I manage to hurt someone's feelings.  I would love to skip Thanksgiving this year and hide in my warm cozy bed instead.  I have a feeling I won't be able to get away with it but this is a bad year for me.  Let's hope I keep it together without going off on some crazy rant while surrounded by family and friends.  Maybe I'll keep my distance from the wine.

I better turn this around, my frustration is showing.  I am going to make an effort to help my daughter get on track with her future.  I am going to try to get some privacy with my husband so we can truly and honestly talk everything out.  I am going to get through the Holiday with a smile and the best of intentions, remembering the fact that God gave us close family and friends so that we could experience both the best and the worst aspects of human relationships. 

Honestly, I know I have certainly been at both my best and my worst with those closest to me and have always been confident that I would be accepted regardless.  I guess I just need to remind myself that I should be thankful for that.

Aliens from the Planet Snot, plus Steve Martin (just because)

I don't exactly know what happened.  Everything was fine.  I went to bed on Tuesday night like always but when I woke up Wednesday morning, I knew something was wrong.

It wasn't something I could see, it was more of a feeling.  The air around me was so thick, I was finding it difficult to breathe.  Even my hearing was muffled.  There was a pounding in my head that was nearly unbearable and I knew that I would not be able to leave the shelter of my home that day.

I fortified myself as best as I could to keep up my strength and was able to battle it out through the day and the following night and somehow I survived.  My efforts to sustain myself were not in vain and I knew I would be able to face the new day without the barriers of the fortress in which I currently reside. 

I went out into the world and faced the day as bravely as I could and I am proud to say that I persevered.  I arrived back home, fatigued and found that the pounding in my head had become so severe that I was no longer able to stay upright.

I drank down the healing potion provided to me and lay down my weary head.  I now knew what I was fighting and there was very little I could do except to plod ahead and hope for the best.  For my enemy was the dreaded Allergens.  Tiny little creatures that have invaded my system and are trying to take over and transform me into a more familiar landscape, which consists of large amounts of nasally gelatin, which I feel is slowly killing me.   Alas!  I vow to survive to fight another season for I know we shall meet again.

By the way, while I was laying down yesterday, grumbling over my stuffy nose and my headache, I was watching some SNL special and got to see Steve Martin, who is one of my favorite comedians and writers.  That made me feel much better.

THANKS MR. MARTIN!

Sniffling, Sneezing and other Snotty Thoughts

The weather's changing and here in Vegas that means allergies, sinus infections, and lingering colds.  The summer's are obviously hot (but it's a dry heat) and as temperatures start to lower, us desert dwellers are subjected to a rollercoaster of climates. 

This seems to confuse the local vegetation into spewing large amounts of pollen as quickly as possible, hoping to achieve the goals of an entire autumnal season in a 24 hour period.  Even the plants know that tomorrow could bring summer or winter temperatures (hey, in Vegas, just about everything is determined by a spin of the wheel).  This is the only time we can obtain open window weather but the clouds of pollen rushing towards you when you do, are extremely convincing deterrents to that particular inclination. 

The only relief during the fall is rain, which washes the pollen out of the air but it is brief and infrequent at best (plus, it's a dry rain).  Since I know that even if I survive another autumn, spring is just around the bend and the wheel of chance will be spinning again. I can't help but feel overcome with despair (at least, in between sneezes) but a spark of hope arrives while I am locked indoors roaming the internet-this just might be crazy enough to work:

Trees in Glass, clearly thought up by a fellow allergy sufferer.  I could finally open my windows.  I could do outdoorsy-type things with my family and my ridiculously underexercised dogs.  I could actually experience nature rather than survive it.  We could have family photos without the living room couch as our primary background (seriously, the most common remark when our family and friends were viewing recent family pics was "Oh, you bought a new couch").

This could be my chance.  I could live just like those people on the covers of those outdoor lifestyle magazines.  We could be health conscious, physically fit, become one with nature!  -closes eyes and breathes deeply- (followed by a fit of coughing and sneezing that lasts about five minutes)

Well, maybe after I'm done Blogging and Facebooking ... and there is this new TV series I've been meaning to check out ... it's so hard being forced to be indoors like this...

...Trees in Glass...ah...to Live the Dream...

narislife: Ed & Max: a love story (or How I Amuse Myself at W...

narislife: Ed & Max: a love story (or How I Amuse Myself at W...: "A long, long time ago in a place far, far away (two years ago at a park down the street) Ed met someone new (almost brand new-about 6 weeks)..."

Have Fun & Vote -- compliments of EILCC

While you wait in that long line to do your civic duty and vote at the very last minute, here's something to amuse yourself with (this is actually for Walmart but it would definitely work in this scenario-at least at my voting locale-I'm thinking this game could be the latest fad, try it at the DMV, Post Office...you get the gist)
Just click to enlarge - the bottom right square is practically a freebie :}

Young Frankenstein Putting On The Ritz

This is my favorite movie to watch on Halloween.  Enjoy

Out of Time

No time to blog today.  I only write at the office and I'm getting off early...Yay!!!  Here's some pics to look at while I'm gone:

Happy Thursday

How to Make Pumpkin Pie

I am not a baker so when my co-worker, partner-in-crime and FB buddy sent me an Email on How to Make Pumpkin Pie, I was thrilled.  She entertains all the time and serves the best food I've ever tasted.

As I waited for the attachment to open (which took a really long time for some reason), I imagined baking a homemade pumpkin pie for my in-laws who really don't like me very much.  What with my independent views and all.  I have a job AND I expect my husband to share in the housework.  Clearly, I am the Spawn of Satan but my Hubby's happy so I continue on with my evil plans...bwahahahah.

Oh...back on track.  I thought this Thanksgiving, when we go to California, I will bring this terrific homemade pumpkin pie, along with home videos and photos to prove that I actually made it myself (trust me, they would never believe me otherwise).

I hear my computer click and whir, which pulls me out of my daydream and I look down, eager to see the recipe and praying it won't be too complicated...

 and I get this...

Thanks Sue...Luv Ya!

The Future?

I drove to my daughter's school today to drop off some food for her because she has theatre rehearsals and was "absolutley starving".  Her words--not mine. 

On my way back to the office, which is just down the street from her school, I was at a stop sign, when some kids in a convertible stopped in the middle of the intersection as some other kids  were crossing the street.  I thought they were probably offering them a ride but the kids walked passed the car and one large boy ran up behind a smaller boy and started punching him in the face.  Nobody stopped him or helped the smaller boy at all.

I picked up my phone and called the school, since the kids are their responsiblity until they get home and they were sending an officer right away.  I don't know what happened, because the larger boy and his friends saw me in my car on the phone and took off.

The part that truly hits me hard is that the other boy had to go into the street, pick up his books, keeping from showing any signs of weakness or distress and continue walking home with all of those kids watching him and no friends to comfort him.  The look on his face just broke my heart.

When I got back to my office, I sat in my car crying for all of those kids who are victims of bullying and or just plain being ignored.  I plan to have a long talk with my own daughters when I get home tonight.

What will the future be like, if we don't bother to teach our children compassion??

...very bleak, indeed...

Oh, How the Screw Keeps Turning

I am experiencing the "Monday Blues" to an extreme and as I went through the blogs I follow, I found this video and I can't help but feel better.  So thanks "Smacksy" and to everyone else:  I hope this will bring a smile to your faces as well :)

aberfeldy summer's gone

Feel Good Friday - this song just makes me feel ... light

Ed & Max: a love story (or How I Amuse Myself at Work)

A long, long time ago in a place far, far away (two years ago at a park down the street) Ed met someone new (almost brand new-about 6 weeks) named Max:



It was love at first sight (at least on Ed's part). They were inseparable:

They faced many an adventure together (fetch, walk the dog, etc) and often went to the very park where they first met (actually, they went to a different park-one that was right across the street but this sounds way better) to pay homage to that glorious day:

They didn't always get along.  Since they were both great warriors, they battled often over their vauable territories (i.e. ball, bone, squeaky) but no one would forget their greatest battle-The Infamous Battle of Tire:

 

 Max acted first, breaching the perimeters of the territory and making his stand.



He attacked in the dark of night (yeah, it's daytime...I get it but the cell phone doesn't have a flash so use your imagination) and succeeded in taking Tire without any opposition (who really wants an old tire?)

Once Max had Tire in his possession (and we all know how valuable an old tiny tire is), he disappeared (ran with the tire to the other side of the park) without even a note (dogs can't write, no thumbs) for his dear friend Ed:





Ed was devastated (actually, he was pissed off that Max took off with the tire like that and didn't come back when he called-he's not very well-trained, Max-not Ed...well, either of them actually) and as time passed he became so bitter and angry, he seemed like a different man (not really a picture of Ed):



Max realized how lonely he was without Ed (he got tired and hungry)and decided that being the champion of Tire was not worth losing Ed:

So he apologized (Cute, huh?)... 

                                                            

And Ed forgave him...

                                    

That was easy!!

Though there were other battles over the years , the battle of Tire is the one that is still spoken of to this day (not really, no one but Max really even cares about that tire)

Neither Ed nor Max will ever forget it, for it taught them to value each other above all else (or at least until the next really cool doggy toy catches Max's eye).  And they lived (or slept) happily (lazily) ever after:



THE END

This post is an entry for Fickle Cattle's Very First Fabulously Fantastic Giveaway