Sunday, November 30, 2008

Debate ...

Do I downsize to a small little car or keep the SUV?

Please discuss.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

The Facebook Phenom

OK ... I'm weirded out. Social etiquette on the Internet can sometimes be mind-boggling. Well, life can mind-boggling, and it's just made excruciatingly weird with the introduction of the WWW.

Scenario: One of my ex-husband's old best friends "added" me as a friend on Facebook. Does anyone else think that this is weird? (Azu & BG - it is NOT the ronmeister) I mean, honestly, he liked me better. When the rat bastard *cough* I mean ex left me, he did tell him to go back to me because I was the best thing the ex could ever have. He did call me after it happened and told me that he thought it was awful and said to call him if I ever needed anything.

Scenario: Every person that works at my company that is on Facebook is adding me. A little weird that it's a social network and everyone seems to be adding people left and right. Kind of creepy actually because some people I don't necessarily want to be "watching" me.

So, am I really strange or can someone PLEASE give me a run down on socializing on the Internet. WHAT am I missing here?

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Check It!

Two posts in the same month. I know. You're all freaking out! Woo hoo ... a whole new world.

I've decided that I must be a certain brand of crazy. I am moving back -- or at least in the process of moving back -- to my old house. I am hoping to make the last of my trips this coming weekend. Then, I need to get a life -- a social life that is.

Anyone up for going out and doing something fun on Saturday? I'm not sure what going out anymore is so I'll need some awesome suggestions, but doing anything with anyone I know sounds absolutely stellar to me.

Oh, and I finally figured out how to get on Facebook and actually make updates. OooOOoOoo check me out. Moving up in the world. Haven't done anything extravagant in there like actually posting my picture, but one of these days!! Oh Boy!

My shocking records of the week:
1. I cooked!! I was so excited. I actually made a fabulous meal and ate every last morsel. I can't remember the last time that I even had TIME to cook. As much as I moan and groan about having to move, I think I'm actually excited!

2. I went to the Bean Museum with my kids, and we didn't have to rush home so that we could actually get in bed before 10pm. We were at the museum for almost 2 hours and still were home before 8pm. Oh no, another sign I might like this move back.

3. I filled my entire gas tank for significantly less than the *choke* normal $100!!! AND I only drove 88 miles TOTAL last week.

Love to the masses!!!

Monday, November 3, 2008

I heart New York.

I used to love New York ... one of my favorite places. The more I come, the more I realize the city has lost a little bit of its charm for me, and it won't ever be THE place I want to live anymore. Sad. Although it kind of shows me that the things I want in life have changed. Don't get me wrong -- I'll always heart New York, and I'll always remember the fun times I've had, but I don't really want to go back.

Unfortunately, it feels like limbo. I feel like I'm in limbo. If this happens, then this. If this happens then this.

I hate "ifs". I've never lived by ifs before, and now it feels like that's all I have. Hmm, changes need to happen. What can change to make the "ifs" go away?? Nothing! It's all about time. So, until the "ifs" become yeses or nos, I will keep you entertained with these tidbits:

Scoop 1: An illustrious Brit is coming to visit me in January. Not the one you might think it would be, but another. Which seems to indicate I have a random fondness for the motherland, or just an insane desire to always have utterly doomed long distance relationships. You decide. All I know is that I MIGHT have a date in January.

Scoop 2: Another illustrious Brit (yes, this is the one you might think it is) has also said he is thinking of coming over in January or February. No, I am not delusional. He may or may not come. In all likeliness, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't, but I would probably be shocked if he did :)

Scoop 3: I tried online dating. Embarrassing to admit. Sad experience. I was trying to be honest and gave myself a 7 for looks so that I could be paired with other cute, but not necessarily hot guys. All I need to say is that people on the Internet apparently don't have a mirror or a grip on reality. I think I'm a 7 out of 10 (and I thought that was generous), but if the matches I got were any indication, I am probably more like a 9 or 10 from the "Internet" rating game. If you are wisping your one strand of hair all around, have three gaps in your front teeth, and wear I love hunting camouflage shirts, I am not so sure that we are compatible. I take baths.

Scoop 4: I was rejected for Speed Dating. I'm too old. I feel ostracized. I just might be young looking enough to pass, but should I? I told my friend Anna that I would go Speed Dating with her. You have to sign up online before you go. I went to sign up, and it's only for people up to 30 years of age!!!! Seriously???!!?? She is 29. Sad. I am even ex-ed from Speed Dating. She is very shy and now will not go by herself, so I said I'd lie about my age because I'm pretty sure I won't get a date from that either. Is that wrong?

Those are the tidbits for the hour. Come back as I prepare more.

Monday, September 1, 2008


My dad died. It was the third strangest occurrence in my life. I'm still not quite sure how to process it, and it's been three years. I've only gone to visit his grave twice -- he understands.

His funeral was kind of a blur. I remember that my uncle John almost fell into the grave when he tripped as they brought my dad's coffin over. I would have laughed out loud except my mother was bawling. I have this random tendency towards humor when things are looking grim, although honestly, my dad probably would have laughed too.

My older brother couldn't really get through his eulogy because he got a little choked up, and the Avinator kept running around like super freak overly sugared (which I'm sure she was because I had spent so much time at the hospital for the days up til then that I can't remember how many treats she was consuming).

My family was 35 minutes late for the funeral (I probably could have predicted this, and it would have also made dad laugh because it was so typical) so I had to stand around with a few people I knew that had come to support me for a bit before they showed up. Props to the peeps.

My grandmother and uncle arrived at 1:45pm, drive straight to the funeral, came to the house for some food, and turned around and flew right back out again at 7pm. They made it home in time to throw some clothes in the car and get the hell out of N.O. before Katrina. They were homeless after that for at least 6 months, which is hard on a 80 year old woman.

Today, they're on the run again (although after dealing with hurricanes for this long, I would have just moved), and I went to visit my dad. I wanted to introduce Leo to him. Just as we pulled up, and I went around to let the Avinator out (Line was still asleep), large drops came down. I looked up and said 'Avinator, we'll need to make a dash for it if you still want to say hi.' To which she replied, 'Grandpa wants us to, silly.'

We ran over to his grave, stood by his headstone, and yelled 'Hi Grandpa/Dad. It's pouring on us. We love you.' and booked it back to the car.

As I was driving off, I remembered my dad saying, 'Don't visit me and don't bring flowers. Flowers are for the living. That's pathetic and I won't even be there anyway. That's just the old shell and all its limitations that I'll finally be rid of.'

His limitations tortured him his entire life (even led to his death), and yet he still recognized them. It's interesting to me when I see my own limitations, get frustrated over them, and want to be done dealing with them as soon as possible. I'm glad I was also reminded today that we can get over them, and here is the best place/time to do it.

I love you, daddy.

Monday, August 25, 2008

It's Shocking.

I cry at the Olympics. It's a strange part of the whole experience for me. I don't know, maybe some of you are secret cryers so I might just be out here on my own.

I cried about the story of the "old" Russian gymnist -- she's my age -- who went to Germany to help save her little boy.

I cried almost every single time our national anthem played. I must be in some way secretly related to Michael Phelps because I cried at some point almost every time he came up. Mostly it was due to his single mom raising such a great boy and wondering if I could do that.

I cried when the men's volleyball team won Gold and they showed the coach who lost his family members earlier in the games.

I cried when our men's gymnastic team won a Bronze. They were so proud to have even made it that far, and they had worked so hard for it.

I cried when Lightening broke through several world records and seemed so thrilled when he made it look so breathtakingly easy (I know it's not), and they talked about his life in Jamaica.

I cried when they showed a German athlete holding up his Gold medal with a picture of his wife who died in a car accident last year.

And I thought how all these super-human were oh-so-human just like me, and yet I cheer my heart and soul out for them.

This year, as I was crying during a national anthem, I thought I would also cheer my heart and soul out for me, my family, and all the people I know who are so amazing.

Yah for all of us!

Friday, August 22, 2008

Slated for Better

Dear Mr. Rosenbaum,

I almost always agree with you and now we diverge. Here, I thought I had a soul mate, and I cannot bear the angst this has caused me. I smile pleasantly at your columns and giggle mercilessly at your descriptions, but I am no longer sure of our relationship. You have disappointed me. You were almost Colbert-like in my adoration.

I must say that you apparently do not understand puzzles and why the mind (brainiacs, I believe you called them) might obsess about these things. I knew our roads parted when you claimed that reading was a better way to spend time.


You just don't understand me, so we must part ways. I may be weak and come back occasionally, but I know it is never meant to be again.

Yours Quite Sincerely In Pain,
A prolific reader and an avid puzzle person

Wednesday, August 20, 2008


Finally. I'm back. Feeling like my old self. Out of the darkness. Away from the anger.

You'll love it.

Can't wait.

Come back soon.