Mostly Useless Drivel

2010-01-10T23:42:00.000-08:00

"In my daughter's eyes I am a hero
I am strong and wise and I know no fear
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I wanna be
In my daughter's eyes"

Tomorrow morning, I'm getting up at the crack of dawn to drive my daughter to college. She spent the last semester going to a community college, and decided to transfer to a school out of state for the spring semester. The emotions running through me right now are overwhelming, obviously. My girls and I have always been close, and through 12 years of it being "just us" I'm not sure how to let one of them go. I know I have to, and I will. I'll even help her set up her apartment with pretty things and take her shopping for her schoolbooks with enthusiasm. We'll walk around her campus and hit all the cool college hangouts while we're there - last time when we out there to check out the campus, she even got me into a hookah bar, which I don't see myself repeating.

I'm just pretty sure that the entire drive home for me on Wednesday will be a six hour drive that's full of tears. I've made my daughters my whole life for so long that I'm afraid of what happens now. I still have my baby at home, but what do we do now that one of us will be gone? I've always known that the reason I was put on this earth was to raise these two girls. In response to people asking about me getting remarried, I've always said, "I have two girls to raise. I'll think about it after that." It's the best thing I've ever done for them and for me. I'm beyond thankful for our relationship.

"This miracle God gave to me
gives me strength when I am weak
I find reason to believe
In my daughter's eyes"

Tomorrow's drive would have been hard under normal circumstances, but it's even worse right now. It's worse because I don't want to do it. Not because I'm afraid of letting her live on her own, or even because I'm afraid I'm going to miss her so much it will paralyze me. Those things worry me, yes. But right now, I'm sad to say that I just don't want to GIVE to her anymore. I don't feel this way very often, but the last couple of weeks have been sad and shocking. I've seen a side of her that for the first time in her life, I can honestly say, I'm ashamed of. I'm a single mom - a single mom whose ex-husband will not contribute one penny towards this move, or this education. He's never contributed to her college fund (which thanks to out of state tuition will be drained after one semester, and then we're at the mercy of financial aid). He is not contributing to her rent, books, living expenses - yeah, pretty much nothing at all. It's just me. I'm a little pissed off at him for it, but it doesn't diminish the fact that it needs to be paid for. It's not like after all these years it surprises me. I'm going to be putting out so much more money every month to send her to school, that for the first time since my very early and very poor single mom days, my youngest daughter and I have moved into an apartment. I would think that my oldest daughter would be aware of this - that she would see a certain amount of sacrifice and be at least a little thankful. Sadly, she's just not. I know this move and this transition isn't just about me. I'm not one to look at her and say, "Look at all the sacrifice I've made for you over the years!" But come on... Like I said, I've seen a side of her over the last couple of weeks that makes me ashamed that a child I raised could be so self-centered. During our entire move, she was not only useless, she was actually a liability. She made things harder on me during a time that was stressful enough. So stressful that I finally told her I would not be driving her to school now or at any time in the future if she didn't get off her ass and contribute to the work that needed to be done NOW. It was way worse than I can communicate here. It was the worst interaction she and I have ever had in her 18 years - and that speaks volumes. The worst part is, I sit around blaming myself for not raising her with a stronger work ethic. I've been mulling over for days how my entire family has always treated her like the Golden Child and pampered the crap out of her for so long that she's come to expect it. She has shirked all responsibility in this move and school transfer. Yet I force myself to keep going forward for her, keep trying to help her, in the back of my mind knowing that this mindset has resulted in the very problem I'm complaining about. I have no clue how to fix this except to let her sink or swim. Let her go out on her own and make it work, even if means talking her through the times when she inevitably falls on her face; bailing her out when I feel the lesson has been learned. It's my job. It IS what I signed up for. It IS what I committed to, even when I just feel so done.

"It's hangin' on when your heart
has had enough
It's giving more when you feel like giving up
I've seen the light
It's in my daughter's eyes"

As much as I feel like it sometimes, I know I'll never give up. Every parent knows that he or she will never give up. After all the ranting and raving, all the moaning and groaning, all the blog venting, the truth is...she's my baby. I will love her through her selfishness, through her self-centeredness, through her 18 year old narcissism. She's part of me. Although she's my frustration, she's also my pride and joy. She's my flesh and blood. She's my baby. My firstborn. My hope.

She's my golden child.

"In my daughter's eyes I can see the future
A reflection of who I am and what will be
Though she'll grow and someday leave
Maybe raise a family
When I'm gone I hope you see how happy
she made me
For I'll be there
In my daughter's eyes"

2009-10-11T22:31:00.000-07:00

"The French say that the best part of an affair is going up the stairs. Desire is almost always more thrilling than fulfillment."

~ Tom Robbins

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

2009-09-28T09:09:00.000-07:00

(I found this post in my drafts folder and I can't believe I forgot to publish it 6 months ago. Oh well, it's never too late...being forwarned is being forearmed.)

If you see this girl...

...behind the wheel of any motorized vehicle, pull safely to the side of the road and wait for her to get outside of a ten mile radius surrounding you or anyone you remotely care about. She is now a licensed driver in the state of California and a menace on the road. The poor weak man at the DMV passed her just so he would never have to see her again. She hit three trash cans, a palm tree, and only narrowly missed a small child crossing the street because she was aiming for the three slower senior citizens behind him. Do not take this warning lightly. If you happen to find yourself in the greater Orange County area, proceed with caution. You never know when she's going to come flying around a corner on two wheels or run another red light because she was texting her girlfriend about where to score a six-pack.

Good luck...Godspeed...and remember...you can learn a lot from a Dummy.

dis⋅sat⋅is⋅fac⋅tion [dis-sat-is-fak-shuhn]

2009-09-16T21:45:00.000-07:00

I love dictionary.com

I'm on it almost every day. There's always something I want to look up to make sure I'm spelling correctly, or using correctly.

This is my latest find...

"Dissatisfaction results from contemplating what falls short of one's wishes or expectations: dissatisfaction with the results of an afternoon's work.
Discontent is a sense of lack and a general feeling of uneasy dislike for the conditions of one's life: feeling a continual vague discontent.
Displeasure suggests a certain amount of anger as well as dissatisfaction: displeasure at being kept waiting."

Ahhhh....welcome to my world.

Everything about me is screaming to run. Everything about me is dissatisfied. Discontented? Yup, that's me. And displeased...wholeheartedly.

So why am I still here? Because I'm insane. We've all heard that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Based on this definition...I am insane. I need to run. Get the hell out. Get the hell away. I'm half way there. Half way further than I was before.

I see the light at the end of the tunnel. And I'm running towards it.

2009-09-06T12:47:00.000-07:00

"Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'."

I came across this song while listening to an old CD (and by the way, who listens to CD's anymore? I'm pretty sure they'll be the next casualty of the new millennium).

Hearing it again made me wonder when I switched teams. When did I check out of the "your sons and your daughters" group and join the "mothers and fathers"? And no, it's not obvious. I was still practically a kid myself when I had my first child. I marched in the California Peace March, had a bumper sticker on my VW Bug that said, "Give Peace a Chance," I dragged my dad out to the California desert to participate in Hands Across America, raising money to fight homelessness and poverty (OK, so maybe my motivation for this one may have been that I heard Tom Selleck was doing it in Hawaii. I figured that this would be the last sign he needed to see how much we had in common and that we should be together forever, but no. He never called. I cannot be responsible for a man who doesn't recognize God's will for his life. But I digress...). I refused to eat meat before it was popular, and was a card-carrying member of Greenpeace and the World Wildlife Fund. Where did THAT girl go? Grew up I guess. Definitely on to what I think are more prevalent causes. But damn, I sure miss that youthful idealism.

Dear Complacency...

2009-08-27T17:37:00.000-07:00

...it's over.

It was fun for awhile, but face it - you are no good for me. Oh sure, things were great for awhile. When I got laid off, you were there to pick up the pieces. I was a needy mess and you were there for me. I let myself get lost in your endless generosity, and in the contentment that only you can offer. I was depressed and you were my drug. You loved me through my financial meltdown, through my daughter's illness, and you didn't judge me when I stayed in bed for days. You made me feel secure, relaxed and fulfilled. And I let you. I loved you unconditionally and I thought it would last forever. You and I spent hours together just laying by the pool, reading the classics, practicing deep breaths - basically convincing ourselves that we'd had a hard few years and it was OK to take a break for awhile. When it was good, it was the best. Yes, I realize there was the smallest hint of denial. After all, by definition you're a downward spiral waiting to happen. But I was going to be the exception - I thought I could change you. I was so naive.

And now, because of the ferocity with which I embraced you, I can't pay my bills. My ability to support my family is failing, and my self respect is circling the drain. All because of this dysfunctional relationship we've both become so comfortable in. This is the ugly side of you that I refused to acknowledge, but can no longer ignore. And that's not all. I don't want to be unnecessarily cruel, but for the first time in our relationship, I'm embarrassed to say that we're together.

Please don't think you've done anything wrong. You're not the one whose changed. Trust me when I say it's not you, it's me.

I know this is sudden, and seems impulsive. But the truth is, Complacency, I've found someone else. A long lost love named Responsibility. Responsibility and I are finally reunited after a way too long separation. I realized that I've loved Responsibility all along and this time I am determined to make it work. Yes I know it's hard work. Yes I know I have to re-learn some old habits. But Responsibility has always been good to me and I'm willing to take the plunge for Responsibility's sake.

To quote a really bad Lionel Ritchie song - thanks for the time that you've given me. I will never forget you and you can be sure there's a part of me that will always love you. But please let me go. No drunk dials in the middle of the night. No calling my friends under false pretenses in an attempt to gain any piece of information about me that you can. That type of behavior would just embarrass both of us. You'll find someone else, just as I have. You have so much to offer that it's just a matter of time before someone else needs to be saved, and is sucked into your facade of instant gratification.

I'll never forget you and on some level, I hope we can always be friends. I might look you up next time I'm on vacation, or when my relationship with Responsibility finally affords me the luxury of retirement. But until then, I'll be putting every ounce of effort into my new love.

Take care,
Steph

Crossroads

2009-07-30T22:44:00.000-07:00

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

~Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken"

The picture is hard to see, but one road sign says YOUR LIFE and the other says NO LONGER AN OPTION. I love this. I found this picture many years ago, but it's proved to be relevant many times in my life ever since. How often are we brave enough to even know that one way is no longer an option? How do we know the road signs are facing in the right direction, and that the NO LONGER AN OPTION route is truly going nowhere?

This poem is one of my favorites. Frost himself says that this is a "tricky poem," and the more times I read it, the more I understand what he means. It's oftentimes interpreted as inspirational; a poem of self realization. But I'm not sure it is.

The person in this poem didn't make his choice lightly. He says, "long I stood" and he looked as far down that road as he could see. The second road he refers to is greener, it looks better - until he realizes that it really doesn't - and it's the road he ends up choosing. And even though he intends to revisit the first one, knowing that "way leads on to way", he realistically knows it won't happen. In the end, he makes no claim that the road he chose was the right one; just that it made all the difference - a difference that he does not define as good or bad. I think Frost's bottom line (the "tricky" message of the poem) is that choice is inevitable, but we really don't know what the impact of our choices are until they've been made and lived.

The person in this poem could have started down one road, and if it didn't please him, just turn back. We all have choices and sometimes those choices are not definitive - we can turn back. But do we ever want to go back to where our journey began? Has that ever worked for anyone?

What if we choose one road and spend the rest of our lives second guessing our decision? Or even just wondering? Is that even healthy?

How do we know?

Well, I guess we just do.
Intuition, discernment, gut feelings, divine intervention. We just know.

And today...I just know.

Thank God I just know.

Random Memory

2009-05-15T20:36:00.000-07:00

I was in Newport Beach yesterday at a very expensive tennis club, liked you'd expect to find in Newport Beach. I was a guest obviously, and met a woman who like me had grown up sailing with her dad. There were a few flags flying overhead and the sound of the wind blowing the rope against the flagpole sounded just like when rigging on a boat hits the mast. If you've been around boats, you know it's a sound that you can't escape at the harbor. To me, it's music to my ears. It instantly relaxes me. Growing up, I spent almost every weekend at the harbor on our family's sailboat. The picture above is where our boat was docked. Beautiful, isn't it? I was so lucky to have grown up with such beautiful surroundings. We sailed to Catalina and took many day trips, but even if we never took the boat out, we would spend the weekend fixing something on it or cleaning it, etc. I should say my dad did that, while my sister and I laid on the dock getting suntans waiting for the BBQ to be ready. I have so many memories on that boat - some amazing, some not so great. One time, we sailed to Catalina and my dad dove into the harbor and found us some abalone for dinner which we cooked on the boat (seems I'm allergic to abalone, as we soon found out, but the experience was great!). My sister and I learned the hard way that Ban de Soliel orange gelee needs to be rubbed in evenly or you're likely to get fake tanned fingerprints on your legs. :)
When I was 10 years old, it was on that boat where my dad told my sister and I that he and my mom were separating. I remember thinking, "If you're leaving, why can't you take me with you?" But I never verbalized it. Not long after that, I remember sitting on the back of the boat with my feet in the water, and my Walkman cassette player on. My eyes were closed as I was listening to whatever new Elton John album had just come out, and in my mind I was lost in a song called Cold as Christmas. Every once in awhile, I hear a song that I would describe as "haunting". This was one of those for me. I remember thinking how it was so my parents, so much my family.

"The temperature's up to ninety five
But there's a winter look in your mother's eyes
And to melt the tears there's a heat wave here
So how come it's cold as Christmas in the middle of the year?"

I can't hear that song without going back to that boat, with my feet hanging over the edge into the water of Dana Point harbor. I can't hear the sounds of the harbor without remembering that song and that moment.

My parents divorce wasn't particularly traumatic for me, and neither was that moment. In fact, I remember feeling very peaceful then - the feeling of the water and the music and the sun so perfect. It does surprise me, however, the vividness of that memory.

Why I Hate Mother's Day...

2009-04-29T16:51:00.001-07:00

I've said it before...I dread Mother's Day every year. For one simple reason - my mother is not normal. Trust me. She's so not normal that my brother and sister bailed years ago, moving 3,000 and 400 miles away, leaving me alone to fend for myself with our mom. Sure, every once in awhile they'll call me and thank me for taking it for the team, but it could never make up for the insanity that living in such close proximity to my mom brings into my life.

One of the problems with my mom is that she gauges how much I love her by how much I do for her, buy for her, spend on her, etc. on holidays and birthdays. I've been a mom myself for 18 years, but she manages to make Mother's Day all about her every year and never even mentions that I'm also a mom and may want to spend the day celebrating MY family. I always have to make plans that she thinks sufficiently spoil her, and she never even offers to pick up the tab even though I'm a mom too and deserve it once a year. Mother's Day every year entails brunch AND dinner at nice restaurants.

Last year, she was out of town for Mother's Day and my girls and I had the best day we'd had in a long time. We went to L.A. and window shopped on Rodeo Drive and then had a great lunch at one of the restaurants there. No pressure, no stress, no mom. The girls could feel the difference too and commented on how relaxing this Mother's Day actually was. The woman even drives them nuts. My mom got home about a week later and on the way home from the airport asked me what we were going to do for Mother's Day. Mother's Day was over! The not so thinly veiled message was, "I wasn't here for you to do anything for me on Mother's Day, so how are you going to make it up to me?" I had been laid off from my job two months before, money was tight, and did I mention - Mother's Day was over!! So I said, "You know Mom, the girls and I had a really quiet Mother's Day this year and since money is really tight, we didn't even go out to dinner. I know I usually take you out to dinner each year, but this year I can't really afford to, so if you want to (still) celebrate Mother's Day - a week later! - you're going to have to pick up the check for dinner." Her response? "NO! It's Mother's Day! If you can't afford to take me to dinner, you can just make me dinner." The fact that my mom has more money than God notwithstanding, her response just pissed me off. For me to say no would put into motion a chain of events that would be absolutely intolerable. It would be a relationship ending scenario. I've tried, not caring that I would finally have the albatross off my neck, but she gets weird by doing things like showing up to the girls schools to see them as if she's been banned from their lives, representing herself as the abandoned grandmother. Drama overflows during situations like that.

Yesterday, I ran into her while I was out running errands - shitty luck, I mean this isn't frickin' Mayberry! - and she asked about Mother's Day. It just reminded me again that every year I am stuck with dealing with this woman's expectations. I said, "Mom, this year is going to be different. I can't afford dinner, I can't afford anything. Sorry, that's just the way it is right now. So I decided for Mother's Day this year, you can come over in the morning and I'll make something small for brunch and we'll just be really low key at home." The beginning of her response gave me hope..."Well, Steph, you've always gone way out of your way for Mother's Day for me. You've always made great plans and taken me to really nice places and I can tell you've put a lot of thought into it in the past..." I'm thinking there's hope here... "So if all you can do this year is make brunch at home, I guess I would be OK with that." Argghhh..

Any suggestions? Do you know a guy who knows a guy? I know I need to grow a pair and just be honest. But really, if she just got a wild hair and decided to move to the east coast to be closer to my brother and his daughter, that would be OK, too.

The only thing that made me smile about this today, is of course, John. I texted him my frustration and he replied, "I'm guessing it has to do with the fact that you're the one left holding the bag on Mother's Day...no pun intended." HA! Love that guy!

Yeahhhhhh, babyyyyyy.......

2009-02-02T19:06:00.000-08:00

Obama is in the White House and the Pittsburgh Steelers just won the Super Bowl.

'09 is shaping up pretty nicely so far!

In the Name of Forced Family Traditions...

2008-08-12T11:43:00.000-07:00

I have these bowls (and if that's not an attention grabber, I don't know what is). I call them the "Grammie Bowls". I don't call them that because they belonged to my grandmother - who I called Grammie. I call them that because they remind me of her. As soon as I saw them I had to have them. This picture doesn't even do them justice. Yes, I'm that excited about my bowls.
Anyway, when I bought them, I immediately called them the Grammie Bowls which left my daughters a little confused, knowing they never belonged to the woman they knew as Grammie. I had to explain to them that when I'm dead - after years of their kids calling me Grammie - and they're baking with their daughters, they'll use these bowls and say, "Oh look...these were Grammie's favorite bowls." And if they have a little chip on them, well they'll be just that much more charming, won't they? In my mind, that's just the sweetest of memories. Rolling their eyes, my girls aren't exactly catching the vision. Brats. But others have. Sometimes when I'm serving chips in them when I have people over, someone might randomly say, "It's the Grammie Bowls!"
They know.

On a side note, I joined this group of women called Operation Baking GALS (GALS standing for Give A Little Support). It started online and over 100 women bake cookies once a month and send them to the troops in Iraq; sharing a little bit of homemade love to those who so deserve it. I'm honored to be part of it. If anyone out there loves to bake and feels like joining, follow that link. :)

So I set out yesterday to bake three different kinds of cookies. I have been told that I make the best oatmeal cookies this side of, well...the moon. So off I go, baking away, when what do I notice? There's a crack in one of the Grammie Bowls!! I turn it over to see if it has cracked all the way through, and it has! I'm pretty much beside myself at this point, filling the bowl with water to see if the crack is going to leak. Luckily it doesn't, but I still am overwhelmed by the tragedy. I hear my oldest daughter come in the house, walk right by the kitchen without stopping in to talk to me, and then head upstairs to her room. By the time I'm over the temporarily paralyzing trauma of finding the crack, I stomp up to my daughters room. She's trying to take a nap and doesn't even open her eyes when I walk in. How can she sleep at a time like this?! My part of the following converasation was in a voice that I'm pretty sure only dogs could hear, but this is how it went...after I stomped across the room to her bed...
"Boo, wake up!! You didn't even come in the kitchen to say hi to me, and I have news!" Not even opening her eyes, she says, "What's wrong?" to which I screech, "THERE'S A CRACK IN ONE OF THE GRAMMIE BOWLS!!"
At this point, she's smart enough to open her eyes and feign concern. "Really? What happened?" I responded (in my dogs are only hearing this voice), "I DON'T KNOW!! I just found a crack in it a little while ago and not a little chip like we thought would be cute and add character but a real crack that goes all the way through and I'm not even close to being dead yet!"
"Wow, that sucks."
"IIIIIIIII KNOWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!" At which point I stomp out of her room.
I get to the hallway, stop in my tracks and yell, "Wait a minuteeeeee......WHICH PART SUCKS?!"
Smartass.

Heaven

2008-08-06T18:45:00.000-07:00

There's a country song that says, "If Heaven were an hour it would be twilight, when the fireflies start their dancing on the lawn." I love that. When asked if there would be dogs in Heaven, Billy Graham replied that since Heaven was supposed to be filled with that which makes us happy, and his dog makes him happy, then yes. There will be dogs in Heaven. I know when we get there we will feel no pain, only joy. But some things do make us more joyful than others, don't they? Which ones would we choose if we could make that choice? I could use a little piece of Heaven right now. I know it will be exponentially better than anything I can imagine right now. Imagine how safe and secure, and loved, we will feel in the presence of God.

But if I could fill Heaven with little pieces of life on Earth, what would it look like? I think Heaven should be filled with sweet little children running through the sprinklers, squealing with delight. And forget the harp music. Maybe some Norah Jones for the soundtrack, or Kenny Chesney singing songs that he wrote just for me. If the weather turns cold and windy, George Winston will definitely be there with his giant blue grand piano. It would be nice if the voice of God were a young Robert Redford. Or James Earl Jones - soothing yet strong and safe. Heaven would be filled with deep purple lisianthus and pink peonies. There would be an endless supply of blackberry pie, and my grandmother's cooking. She would be there too, doing what she loved best. She would tell me all the stories about her childhood. And this time I would listen, instead of secretly rolling my eyes and cursing my sister for not being the one who got "caught" by Grandma's stories that day. She would always smell exactly the way I remember her. My dad would be there, and he would be teaching me how to dance like he did when I was 13 years old and nervous about my first high school dance. He would show no signs of aging, just the young exuberant man he has always been. I could sail with my dad and my brother every day if I wanted, because the water and wind would always be perfect. My girls wouldn't be there yet, but when they got there we would all sing songs together before we fell asleep, like we did when they were very small. There will be an endless loop of 'Life is Beautiful' playing, even though I would probably change the ending a bit. There would be a French cafe on every corner that served chocolate crepes and good Champagne. And all the French bread and Mimolette cheese I could eat. We could see the Big Dipper, the Southern Cross, and all of the other constellations close up. And I'm pretty sure I could talk God into letting me float around the brightest part of the Milky Way for awhile.

I know I'm dreaming and not dreaming nearly big enough. Like I said, it will be beyond our wildest imaginations. But it was fun to imagine for just a few minutes.

fin·ished (fĭn'ĭsht)

2008-07-25T22:34:00.000-07:00

v. intr.

1. To come to an end; stop.
2. To reach the end of a task, course, or relationship.

A couple of years ago, someone tagged me to do a certain post answering various questions. I don't remember all of the questions, but one of my answers is something that I have thought of most of my entire adult life. The question was "When do you know it's love?" And here was my answer...
"When you realize that the other person's baggage is not a deal breaker, when you run to the front door every time that person walks in, when you see the future and they're in it." Obviously relationships are much more complicated than that, but love...I think it's pretty simple.

However, recently I realized that no matter how long or how strongly I've believed otherwise - love is simply not enough. When I worked in ministry years ago, a friend of mine was the pastor who officiated the wedding of some of our mutual friends. During the ceremony he said, "Marriage is two people becoming one, and that ONE is always the other person." Wow. Can you visualize a relationship as unselfish as that? A relationship where you continually put the other person before yourself and you can trust them to do the same for you? I can. I have ever since then. I think this is why I've remained single all of these years. I'm holding out for that kind of selflessness, that kind of mutual respect and that kind of honor.

I'm having to say goodbye to someone who I have loved for years. Yeah I know...who knew? It wasn't something I felt comfortable writing about on this blog. It was shaky from the very beginning, a roller coaster really. The love was there, but that type of "oneness" wasn't. Realizing what was lacking is what's making me walk away now. Finally. Finally finished. It's been years. Most of my friends are just frustrated with me and for me because it's been so long. It's why no one else I ever dated stood a chance against this person coming in and out of my life. And until now, I never stood a chance in any other relationship. But now I feel comfortable and right with this decision, which is more than I have been able to say in the past. So many times in life you just have to take the long way. It's part of our imperfect emotional structure. I walked away before because I felt I HAD to. I knew I SHOULD. But I kept going back because we loved each other. I realize I knew all along that it wasn't enough, but you know how these things work out - you gotta go through the crap. You gotta sift through the muck before you realize you're never going to find the treasure.

What I know is that I still love my answer about love. I mean it as much as I meant it when I wrote it almost three years ago. But I'm amending it a little to include being "present". Showing up. Paying attention. Live selflessly. Put love before fear.

This has been such a long time coming. It had to happen before I could ever find a love that I know I deserve and know I can reciprocate. Now I know that my future will be with someone else who can give me all those things. And I can honestly say - my future is lookin' bright! :)

Arrrgggghhhhhh...

2008-07-16T14:23:00.000-07:00

I hate sleeping. It's just pure frustration. I can't do it, so I hate it. Sleep should be a good thing, right? I should look forward to it and wake up feeling refreshed.
I can't fall asleep at night, so I have to take something to keep me from being up for days. I've tried everything on the market, and the one I take works the best, but still not that well. I wake up too early, I can't fall back to sleep.

I hate it.

Last night was a typical night's sleep.
I started out reading and/or watching TV, which I have to do to make my mind tired enough to fall asleep. I turn on my nature sounds of a rainstorm to block out any other noises (my ideal sleeping conditions would be an abandoned mine shaft somewhere, where there was absolutely no light and no sound for miles). And I fall asleep. For a few hours if I'm lucky. But now I've not fallen asleep until well after midnight and wake up at the crack of dawn. I try to will myself back to sleep. I try relaxation excercises like concentrating on every part of my body falling asleep. I focus on the sound of the rainstorm and it is comforting for awhile. If I have to go to the bathroom, I don't - because I know that I can put myself back to sleep no matter how bad that particular problem is, but if I get up, I'm awake for good. When the sun comes up, I have to make sure I'm facing a certain way because my blinds suck and the light keeps me awake.

There is just so much noise. Just noise.

The sound of the spa pump coming on, then I anticipate the sprinklers; both things I've tried to change but am electronically inept enough to have no success so far. There's the neighbors dog barking. I want to kill him. Sometimes he gets my dog going and she runs outside to start barking. If I lock her dog door at night, she sits in the house and barks. Noise.

And now I'm awake enough to start thinking. Crap.

I think about everything - my kids and what they are going through at the moment, my job situation, my relationships, my bills. Good things, bad things. All things.

I can't turn it off.

I.just.hate.sleeping.

Oh, To Be Young and Entitled

2008-07-11T18:21:00.000-07:00

My 17 year old thinks her dad is going to buy her a Mercedes for her first car. She thinks that because he said he would. Daughters have always had powerful manipulative skills with their fathers and she is no exception.
This is a girl who has pretty much had everything handed to her all her life, and trust me when I say that I take my share of the responsibility. That's what parenting out of fear gets you.

I've raised her by myself since she was old enough to walk (although her father and I were married until she was six years old, as a parent, sadly he was less than useless).
Over the years most of my parenting has been based on these two questions...
1)What did my mother say to me in this situation that made me never want to discuss anything important with her ever again? and...
2)What do I wish she would have said?
Well, that's nice in theory. And I must admit that due to my lack of over-reaction, I have a daughter who tells me more than most - the good, the bad and the ugly. She's told me some things that made me want to plug my ears and hum "Oh Happy Day" until she stopped talking. And I'm thankful for that part of our relationship. The downside is that when you parent out of fear, you're always one step behind the teenager. They can smell it and they immediately start circling the waters.

Then they think they own you.

And apparently, if you're her father, the next thing you know, you're promising them a Mercedes.

This is a girl who has never had a job. My first legal job was when I was 14 at Del Taco down the street. I walked there four days a week in my dorky little uniform, just so proud that I had a job. I say my first "legal" job, because when I was 13, some lady who owned a children's boutique hired me to stock shoes for 10 hours a week and paid me under the table. The point is that I had the balls to go into that boutique and ask her for a job. She recognized this and respected it. So she gave me a job that she probably never even needed filled and taught me a great lesson about taking initiative.

Anyone who knows me knows that I would rather dive head first into my own vomit before I admit to my mother doing something right as a parent. She's the "What Not To Wear" of parenting. But to give credit where credit is due, that woman taught me about initiative and hard work. She talked me into walking into that boutique at 13, because I had nothing to lose (she also talked me into stowing away on a cruise ship and tried to get me to move to Hawaii during a family vacation when I was 18, but that's a whole 'nother post). So why didn't I get that parenting gene? FEAR!
First and foremost, in fear of "becoming" my mother (orphaned Tupperware lids aside), I threw the baby out with the bathwater. Second, fear of losing my daughter - forcing her out of her comfort zone to the point that her reaction was to blame me for the discomfort. The same person, who at 13 boldly walked into a store asking for a job, now at 41 is sometimes unable to stand up to her 17 year old daughter. Out of fear. Don't get me wrong, she doesn't walk all over me, but this issue is not only present, it's rearing its ugly head right about now.

So now she feels entitled. To a Mercedes. To car insurance. To a gas card.

Now, there is no way I will let this happen, and after today she knows it. Her attitude towards the car and all the accessories - her basically sitting back and waiting for it all to be handed to her - is what has kept me from getting her driver's license thus far, even though she's over 17. But I can't ignore how we got here.

I know I'm venting and this post doesn't really do her justice. As far as teenagers go, she's put me through very little stress. She's very loving, she's honest, she respects my rules even though her curfew is earlier than her friends (I checked). This is the only area in which she and I will go to the mat. But oh boyyyy do we.

But I do have to wonder - how do I undo the damage that I have most certainly contributed to?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation (Part 1)

2008-07-08T18:01:00.000-07:00

I just got back from Lake Havasu where I spent 5 days on a big boat doing nothing, stressing about nothing, thinking about NOTHING! It was a beautiful 5 days. But one more day, and I would have looked like this...

...and that's never good. My youngest daughter went with me for the first 4 days and then her sister joined us for the last day and night. Look at my little cutie - she's turning into such a big girl...

Alright, now a confession...and this one is sure to win me Mother of the Year for the 17th straight year in a row. It even beats the time I let my little girl walk around on a broken leg for three days, and the time I didn't realize that her hand was broken the first time until she broke it the second time a month later. Yeah, this is a good one. In my last post, ya know how I mention that the girls and I kind of have a song that means something to the three of us? Well, my girls have always said they wanted to get the word STAND tattood on them somewhere. Yeah, what is it with kids today and tattoos? Don't they realize they're permanent? These are little people who don't realize one day they'll have to get A JOB! Well, I broke down - big time. We all got 'em. Yup, even I am the proud owner of a brand new - permanent - tattoo that says Stand. I know, I know! But I got sucked into the whole bonding thing with my babies. And it's on my foot, so hopefully shoes will cover it. But why couldn't anyone have warned me that it was going to hurt like a mother??!! It's supposed to be a purple-y chrome-ish color, but it just looks red because no one told me it was gonna bleed!

So if you're watching the news tonight, watch for the story about the crazy mom who got arrested for letting her 13-year-old daughter get a tattoo! Then come bail me out.

John Rocks

2008-07-07T22:49:00.000-07:00

So John reminded me the other day that I haven't blogged in over a year. I actually have a couple of posts saved to drafts that I may get around to finishing soon. But for now, let me say a sincere thank you to everyone who was concerned about my daughter Olivia. In my last post from over a year ago, she was being tested for Hodgkins (see below), and we discovered that she does not have it. We never figured out exactly what she did have, just that it was probably something fungal (eww...) or viral that has already run it's course. After the oncologist, we took her to an infectious disease specialist and by the time a couple of months passed, he had NO idea what we had been dealing with except that it was gone. The only remnant is the fact that she's had a hard time putting the weight back on. That's a bummer because she eats like a horse and is still a size nothing on her fat days. But thank you so much to everyone who wrote, prayed, and generally loved us through it. It was absolutely invaluable to me.

So before I post my adventure filled update on 'What I did on my summer vacation (thus far)', let me share this little gem that John turned me onto...It's a mix of my favorite songs. I have a thousand and one favorite songs, so I picked just six that have significant meaning for me. I'll try to explain why in as short order as possible (you know how I get)...

Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen
I chose this because a couple of my other favorites by him (like Jungleland) weren't available. This reminds me so much of high school and college and a thousand great times. I also grew up playing the piano, and this song has some of the best rock piano I have ever heard.

Stand - Rascal Flatts
My daughters and I have spent almost their whole lives with it being just the three of us and this is our anthem. When things suck particularly bad for one of us, and life knocks us on our ass, the other two will lift her up by saying, "We're Flynn girls. We Stand."
Here's the chorus:
"When push comes to shove,
you taste what you're made of.
You might bend 'til you break,
'cause it's all you can take.
On your knees you look up,
decide you've had enough.
You get mad, you get strong,
Wipe your hands, shake it off,
Then you STAND."

Refine Me - Jennifer Knapp
So hard to pick just one by her. She's a Christian singer/songwriter who's about as deep as they come. I love her music. This is a terrible recording of a beautiful and profound song that reminds me that I am not the boss of me, and I do such a crappy job when I try to be.

Anything But Mine - Kenny Chesney
Awww...this songs reminds me so much of someone from the east coast who I spent a very sweet two weeks with several years ago. He left to go home and we parted with love and respect for each other that has remained over the years. It's about someone leaving to go home the next day after a beautiful summer romance and it makes me think of my friend every time I hear it. I've seen him a couple of times since then, and it will never go anywhere, but what a sweet memory. :)

My One True Friend - Bette Midler
I'm one of the rare people of my generation to truly love her music and crazy style. This song reminds me of my deep deep love for my sister, and that if any human being would go to the ends of the earth for me, it is her. It talks about forgiveness, but I've never had to forgive her for anything - very rare between sisters. But she has been endlessly patient with me. Knowing she's there makes me feel safe and like I always have a home.

Hey There, Delilah - Plain White T's
Shouldn't this be called Hey There, Stephanie? Really. :) If this song were written for you while you we're in college, would you not just die for the romance of it? It reminds me of young, sweet, blind adoration and I love it!!

If you only want a snippet of each song, hold your cursor over the bottom of the tape and a menu bar will pop up.

Hope you enjoy them.

By the way, the picture on the tape is of my youngest daughter and her friends playing at the beach and I just thought it was cute. But now that I see it again I'm really just thinking, "skinny little brats." ;)

2007-07-01T22:45:00.000-07:00

Not sure how to start this, so I just will. Obviously I haven't posted for awhile, but I know I have blogger friends out there that would care about what I'm about to say, so I'll just jump in...

Last Friday my oldest daughter had a surgical biopsy for what her doctors are assuming is Hodgkins Lymphoma. It's been going on for about four months now, leading to the biopsy on Friday. The good news is that it's highly curable, as her oncologist confirmed last week. The bad news is that it is a form of cancer and treatment for it would very traumatic, even though the prognosis for this type is very good. After four months of doctors, tests, CT Scans, etc., I feel like we're finally in capable hands. The first time we met her oncologist, he hugged her and kissed her forehead and said, "Don't worry sweetie. I'll treat you as if you were my own little girl." He's my new hero.

When we went for her pre-op appointment last week, I took this picture with her holding her urine sample in her lap. Yeah, I know it's gross. And the look on her face indicates that she thinks she's surrounded by idiots! :)

Then we went to the biopsy at 6 AM Friday morning. Here she is in her little purple hospital gown. The picture isn't very clear - I took it on my cellphone.

The doctor removed three lymph nodes. One to send for cultures, two to send to pathology, looking for Hodgkins and other types of lymphoma. We won't get the results for about a week. At times I have so much to say about this, and normally I would give a lot more details. Now I'm just really tired. I'll try to write more about it later. For now I would appreciate your prayers.

Thanks.

Get The H&%# Away From My Daughter!

2007-04-24T22:05:00.000-07:00

My daughter turned 16 a couple of weeks ago. Last Saturday, we had a Sweet 16 Party for her at a local Italian restaurant. Too late to lock her up isn't it?
We rented out half of a restaurant, hired a DJ and invited 100 of her closest friends(!). Thankfully, only about 60 showed up, but she had a great time! She wanted a Tiffany's themed party, so we threw a bunch of fake pearls and diamonds on the tables and I made a couple of cakes in the shape of Tiffany boxes. Here they are...

I was stoked - everyone thought they were presents! I took a picture of what my kitchen looked like after I finished with the cakes - I'll post that soon. It's hilarious! By the time I was done, I was covered in powdered sugar from my hair down the front of my jeans.

I could not believe the way teenagers dance these days. I was totally shocked, and my ex-husband wasn't exactly happy about it either. He spent most of the night getting between our daughter and some gropey little hormonal teenagers. One of them even tried coming up behind me and getting way too close. Little horndogs. In spite of all that, we had so much fun! But by far, the highlight of the night was that I got asked out by the way hot owner of the restaurant. This guy......

Uh-huh. This picture is from when the restaurant was written up in a local magazine. I played hard to get for about a minute and a half.

I'll keep you posted. Or maybe not... ;)

Why Do I Love This One So Much?

2007-03-30T15:31:00.000-07:00

Because of text conversations like this...
(By the way, she's "BOO")

BOO: just wanted to let you know I ditched 7th. I'm going to in n out. Love you. See u later tonight!

ME: Better be kidding.

BOO: I am. I'm in spanish right now. I just wanted u to think I was a bad kid :)

ME: No chance of that.

BOO: hahaha gracias :)

Me: I love you.

BOO: love you too. Can I be home at 1130 if I'm not too tired? PLEASE!!!Pretty please with cherries on top my most prettyful mommy dearest!!

ME: Tell me I'm the best mommy in the whole world and you want to grow up to be just like me. Oh yeah, and I'm a really good dancer!

BOO: duh, I was already saying those things to my teacher I just didn't want to over-do it. I was totally saying it tho!! Haha :)

ME: That's a good girl. ;-) Ok, you can stay 'til 1130.

BOO: Yayaya! Thank you mommy I love.

ME: You're welcome, baby doll that I love back.

YES!! I know it's enough to give you a cavity, but she's going to be 16 in one week!!! I have to hang on to this AS LONG AS POSSIBLE!!!!! I have to hang on to the sickeningly sweet stuff while she's still not embarrassed that she has a mom.

Why, God?

2007-03-07T12:00:00.000-08:00

Why does she have to get so big? She's my baby, the one who is supposed to stay little forever. Why does she have to be so pretty? Why does she have to have those amazing blue eyes that are just going to make boys want her when she older? What am I saying - she already has boys asking her to be their girlfriend. And she said yes to one of them! That's not okay.

And she's such a stud. She's wearing motocross gear in this picture because she rides her own motorcycle! In fact, two weeks ago (at the end of this particular trip) she broke her nose. And it still didn't make her ugly. Why?

Her older sister is already a knock out. I don't like it, but I've accepted it. This little cutie was always my baby - the one who still holds my hand every time we ride in the car. The one who can't go to sleep if I don't tuck her in at night. The one who, before I close her door at night, says, "Goodnight, Best Friend."

But now she has movie nights with her friends. She wants to be dropped off at the mall (thankfully, not two blocks away yet). This morning on the way to school she informed me that she and her "boyfriend" have been going out for a month. What?! I don't like it.

So God, if you're listening...and I know you are...please keep her little just a while longer. Let her keep calling me Mommy, even between motocross races. Keep that sincere joy that she exudes every day intact. And please keep those blue eyes shining with love and innocence.

Thank You.

They Say I'll Laugh About This One Day...

2007-02-18T23:21:00.000-08:00

I haven't been around for awhile. I've been too busy getting my sorry ass fired from the most lucrative position I've ever had. It was the proverbial "perfect storm" of the workplace. Everything coming together at all the right times, from all the right angles to create total destruction. Yeah, kind of a bummer. But hey, everyone keeps telling me to consider it a learning experience. And I must say that the biggest lesson I learned is as follows...

1. Never tell your boss to fuck off.

Apparently I learned lesson #1 a little too late, which led to the following lessons...

2. If you must tell your boss to fuck off, be sure to send out the blanket "I have a new e-mail address..." e-mail to your address book before uttering the previously mentioned offensive phrase.

3. Clean out all personal folders on your hard drive, so the next person who ends up in your little cube doesn't get to read all of your personal letters. Not to mention that resumé you've been updating in preparation of the offensive phrase.

4. If given the chance to apologize, you should probably take it, instead of uttering the next offensive phrase, "HELL NO!"

5. Be sure to have a Plan B - a bigger, better, more lucrative job which you get to start even sooner, considering your recent unemployed status. Ahhhhhh........at least I did that part right! ;)

Most importantly...

6. There's nothing that riding around with the top down on an 85 degree southern California day won't fix.

"Yes, Virginia...

2006-12-24T01:06:00.000-08:00

...there is a Santa Claus."

It's Christmas again. For those of you who haven't known me since last Christmas, everything I would love to say I've already said here. Please feel free to check it out. And may everyone who passes by this blog have a blessed Christmas.

"...He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy...Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see...Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world...

...Thank God he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."

~Francis P. Church
Editorial in The New York Sun
Christmas, 1897

Too Much Information? Probably.

2006-12-14T12:48:00.000-08:00

The other day I went in for what I refer to as My Yearly Violation. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about - getting felt up by a near stranger, feet in the stirrups, being poked and prodded - you know. I've had two children and, therefore, pretty over the whole probing thing. I went to my old doctor, the one who delivered my second daughter, because he specializes in a certain procedure that I'm interested in pursuing. I have to mention that I used to have a huge crush on this man. I looooooved him! He's tall, dark and handsome, dresses impeccably, and is oh so sweet. So I was excited to go see him again and see how he's aged. Of course, he's still gorgeous - just a little grayer, but nonetheless gorgeous.
So we talked for a bit about why I was there, and then it was TIME. Time for the violation. Time to be uncomfortably probed. It's never comfortable, no matter how hard the doctor tries to relax you with the soothing voice, the mundane distractions about how old your kids are now, blah, blah, blah... Once I felt like a doctor was taking way too long and I told him if he took much longer, I was going to have to take him home to meet the folks. So this day with the gorgeous doctor was continuing with dread. And then, as if on cue, my cell phone rings. Yup, right as the doctor is staring somewhere between my legs and the nurse is trying to assist, we were all treated to a little snippet of none other than "Love Shack." Gotta love it.

Thank God I changed my ringer from "Let's Get It On."

Holy Crap.

2006-11-30T10:36:00.000-08:00

My 15 year old is a sophomore in high school. Last year, she was struggling in her English class, so I had several conversations with her teacher about it through e-mail and phone calls. Her teacher was so great. She came up with ways for my daughter to improve her comprehension while reading at home. She got her to start journaling, and since my daughter had a back injury from volleyball, she even let her take extra breaks and stretch during the three day long standardized testing. She truly went above and beyond the call of duty. She was just so great, and I was grateful to have someone so caring looking over my daughter while she was in school.

Then last week, this happened...

O.C. Teacher Charged With Having Sex With Student

CBS) SANTA ANA, Calif. A Trabuco Hills High School English teacher was charged Tuesday with seven counts of having sex with a male student.

Alyssa Ann Johnson, 31, who is free on $50,000 bail, was charged with three counts each of unlawful sexual intercourse and oral copulation of a minor and one count of sodomy with a person under 18, Orange County District Attorney spokeswoman Farrah Emami said.

Johnson, of Tustin, is scheduled for arraignment on Dec. 21, Emami said. If convicted, Johnson faces up to seven years in prison.

Johnson is accused of having sex on multiple occasions between July 4 and Nov. 14 with a student she met while teaching at Trabuco Hills High School. She was arrested Wednesday at her home by sheriff's investigators, who received word of the allegations through officials at the Mission Viejo school, said sheriff's spokesman Jim Amormino.

Johnson has been placed on administrative leave, Amormino said.

The student "took an English class from her," Amormino said, declining to release any additional information that could identify the youth, other than to say that he is "older than 14 and younger than 18."

Johnson, who was booked on suspicion of oral copulation, posted $50,000 bail and was released on Thanksgiving Day, Amormino said.

She had been a teacher at the school for about four years, Amormino said.

Holy crap.

What makes a grown woman not only risk her job, but risk going to jail? Not to mention the welfare of that 16 year old boy. I'm absolutely shocked.

People are weird.

The Lovely Chera...

2006-11-13T11:29:00.000-08:00

Thursday night I had to say goodbye to one of the most important people in my life - my friend Chera. She has accepted a position in Baltimore and left this weekend on her cross country move. It's a great opportunity for her, not only professionally, but to get a fresh start which she feels she needs right now.

Letting her go was torture. I threw her a little going away party Thursday night that was an absolute blast (after which, my house looked like the frat house in Animal House)! We definitely sent her off right. We take pictures just about everywhere we go, even if it's just a concert; two of which I posted above. Isn't she beautiful? I put copies of all of our pictures into a photo album for her and gave it to her at the party. I couldn't even get through it without toally losing it. By the end of the night both of us were a mess.

We met when we worked in the same department at the company I still work for. She was so sweet, kind of quiet, and had the slightest trace of the most charming southern accent. We discovered that in spite of our age difference (I'm 11 years older than she), we have so much in common. It's definitely not obvious, though. On the outside, our lives are very different. But on the inside, our friendship is a perfect match. We're each other's family - both non-judgemental and lovingly accepting of the other, even when we don't agree with the other's decisions. During our friendship, we've both had some really hard times, and we're always there for each other. When I cry she cries, and that's the truest sign of deep friendship. She used to come over with a bottle of wine and we'd lock ourselves in my bedroom, sit on the bed and talk for hours. Or just sit on my kitchen counter, knowing we could totally be ourselves. We both LOVE to have fun and everything we do together is a blast - if it doesn't start out that way, we turn it into one. There is never a dull moment when we're together, and 99% of my crazy stories have Chera right at the center. In the second picture, we were at a Chippendale's show which Chera got a free tickets to. Neither one of us would pay for tickets for that, but when she heard on the radio that you could e-mail in why you thought you should get free tickets, I think she did it just for the challenge! She wrote in and said her friend Stephanie was a single mom working two jobs, never got out to have fun and really needed a night out. Needless to say, we got the tickets and those T-Shirts were part of our "Spank You" gifts that we also won.

Chera and I will never lose each other, but the void in my life on a day to day basis will be huge without her here. I love her so much.

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

"Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street...

...OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest...

...And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!"

---Dr. Seuss

Happy Birthday, JOHN!!

2006-10-24T00:00:00.000-07:00

It's John's birthday today! Yup. He's the big 2-9.
Oh my gosh - I wonder if he knows how close he is to being officially old like me. ;) If you aren't familiar with John, please read this before you do anything else.

Seriously.

Go.

Read it - we'll wait.

Now that you know how incredible this man is, let me offer this...
In honor of my sweet friend John, my words sadly fall short, so I thought I would call on some old and familiar friends to help me out...

By one of my favorite authors...
"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."
- Anais Nin

"No love, no friendship, can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever."
- Francois Mocuriac

"It's the friends you can call up at 4am that matter."
- Marlene Dietrick

John, you are all of these to me. My life is richer for knowing you. My soul sleeps more soundly at night knowing you're my friend.
And on this incredibly special day that you were born, I know that God is looking down on this earth and smiling at who you've become.

Love is at it's best when you have others to divide it with. May your coming year be filled with long division.

I love you, my friend. May your day be blessed.

Finally. A Breakthrough.

2006-10-20T23:52:00.000-07:00

I feel like a tremendous weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I've spent so much time and energy lamenting the fact that I'm still single, as you know from a previous post. And, as many of you know, I consider myself a spiritual person with the belief that God wants what's best for me on this earth. Bear with me here.

I've spent quite a bit of time lately asking God what it all means...Why am I still single? Have I done the right thing by ending my past relationships when I did? Will I ever find my soul mate and one day marry again? Have I met this person already and just not seen the signs?

I've had what I believe to be an epiphany. After much thought and prayer, God has made it very clear to me...

He wants me to marry the lead singer of the Goo Goo Dolls.

Irrefutable Signs That I Have Become My Mother...

2006-10-13T11:36:00.000-07:00

1. The sheer number of fast food napkins in the glove box of my car, "just in case."
2. The way my daughters complain that I speak like this, "I think we should go to...um...uh...um...yeah...What was the question?"
3. My brand new Spode Christmas Dinnerware, service for 8.
4. How I walk out of Big Lots with my girls (CA's equivalent to the 99 cent store), and say to them, "Don't touch your eyes!"
5. The fact that I use a variation of the, "Because I said so" response, only mine sounds more like, "Because I AM the boss of you!"
6. The number of tupperware lids I have in my cupboard that have no actual tupperware to cover.
7. My inability to throw away a perfectly good ziplock baggie if it can be reused.
8. The fact that I have bottles of salad dressing in my refridgerator that pre-date the millennium.
9. The way I walked into my 15 year old's bedroom the other night and whined, "I only saw you for five minutes today. We never spend any time together anymore!" Wha,wha,wha...
10. My inability to purchase something spontaneous for my kids because in the back of my mind I'm really thinking, "I think I have a coupon for that..."

...And these are just the ones I'm willing to admit.

Any of you turning into your mother? Let me know and make my day! ;)

AWWWWWWWWW.......

2006-10-01T23:24:00.000-07:00

I had the sweetest conversation the other day with one of my dealers. His name is Magnus. He's Swedish and looks much like I imagine a Nordic God would look. He has a really strong accent, which just makes him even cuter, and he's a really nice and sensitive guy.
There are only two people at this dealership and I usually call to speak to Alex, the owner, after talking to Magnus for a few minutes. I see them in person probably once every two weeks, over the last year and a half.
Magnus is always watching out for beach volleyball tournaments for my daughter and always wants to hear about what's going on in my life. He truly is as kind as he is gorgeous.
This is what he said, almost word for word...

"Steph! How are you?! I have to tell you something! (this part was a little funny to me, since I haven't seen him in about a week and I don't even do business directly with him) Someone called the other day and Alex answered the phone. Right away he started saying, 'OH! I'm so sorry! How did it happen? Please give the family our condolences.' And I tried to get his attention to find out who died, but he wouldn't answer me! He was on the phone for 15 minutes and he was so upset. Then he said, 'How is her daughter? She plays volleyball doesn't she?' And I thought. "IT'S STEPH!!' And I was so upset, Steph, I kept trying to get Alex's attention and I was asking, 'Is it Steph?!' But he wouldn't answer me, and I was so upset! I thought you were dead! And I cried! I didn't know what to do. I thought it was you. And then he hung up and said, 'No, it's not Steph.' And he told me who it was, but my day was already ruined. It made me so sad to think it might have been you! I just wanted to tell you that I care about you so much and I'm so glad you're okay!"

How cute is that?! And how nice it is to think about the impact we may make on other people's lives even when we don't know it.

______________________________________________________

P.S. On a completely unrelated note...Check out this picture of my daughter, the Unabomber.

See the resemblance?

Yeah, I think I'm funny.
_______________________________________________________

P.S.S. I recently saw this sign at the hospital where my mom had her surgery. For those of you who may not know, California has a "No questions asked" policy with babies. Sadly, we've developed a need for safe surrender sites, such as this one. With all of the idiots out there leaving their newborns in dumpsters and bushes, the state felt the need to give them this option.

Here's the great news...I checked and they DO take 15 year olds!! :)

I've Figured Out What You Can Get Me For My Birthday...

2006-09-21T17:38:00.000-07:00

In the last few weeks I've gotten hundreds, possibly thousands, of inquiries as to what one can get the girl who seemingly has everything. And I understand your dilemma, what with only two shopping days left. After much thought, I'm ready to tell everyone what they can pick up for me in the next couple of days...

Williams Sonoma.

Yeah. The store. The whole thing.
What? You're afraid it won't fit in your truck/SUV/sedan/Smart Car?
Yeah, that might be a problem.

I was in there today picking up a few things for the first of many birthday celebrations tonight, and I decided it would be much easier to have the entire store at my disposal. Isn't that the greatest, albeit overpriced, store on the planet?
I love it. I want one of each.

By the way, to spare all of my family and friends the unnecessary stress of my birthday being a mere 48 hours away, and most of them feeling like the celebration couldn't possibly be over that quickly...I've decided to forgo my previous practice of having a "birthday month" and adopt the "birthday quarter."
Yes, a typical quarter would end at the end of September, but mine is just beginning. So I'm officially celebrating my birthday from now until November 30th.

(But that's a whole lot better than cryin' about it, don't you think? ;)

When Bad Elvis Happens to Good People...

2006-09-18T16:00:00.000-07:00

No, it's not a bad dream...it's Phil Shane - a 5'1" Elvis impersonator who spends his time at local bars between here and Las Vegas. His nickname is Tiny E. My ex-boyfriend first introduced me to Phil several years ago and I've been a believer ever since. He not only puts on an incredible show as Elvis, complete with costume changes and all the hip grinding one packed room of groupies can take, but he also does a mean Neil Diamond, Engelbert Humperdink, and yes...the master of cheese himself, my personal favorite...Barry Manilow! He can knock out "Copacabana" like nobody's business.

Why this tribute to Tiny E? Well, for two reasons.
#1. I spent my 38th birthday at Original Mike's with this gyrating lounge singer, watching him ring in the big day with my friends Amy and Jennifer. Some of you may know Jen from Swank or Skank? (But don't let the title fool you - she's 100% Swank!)
So to celebrate the (almost) 2nd anniversary of that auspicious occasion, I'm posting the following...

The photo was taken on Jen's cellphone so the quality is a little compromised (or is that me being compromised?). Anyway...Phil is not kneeling down, nor am I sitting on his lap. No, he's just really that short. I'm only 5'1", but apparently my heels were higher than his that night. The tall girl in back? I have no idea who she is...obviously someone trying to get in on my Phil birthday action.

#2. I'm posting the memory of Elvis and Jen because Jen was just here last week from Minnesota, and we had a great time on the town in Laguna! I got some of that Purple Ginger sushi I'm crazy about (after drinks on the beach at the Hotel Laguna), and then more drinks at the White House. I think we were both a little worked the next day. I know I was and after reading Jen's blog, I'm pretty sure she was too. :)

So for those who are wondering, my birthday Vegas trip was cancelled. It was just not working out logistically. So I'm spending a mellow weekend with friends and hopefully, will be having too much fun to realize I've turned the corner on the next decade!

If You're Looking For a Naked Shower Buddy, Apparently I'm Your Girl...

2006-09-09T21:53:00.000-07:00

I have this little counter thingy on the bottom of my blog that tells me how many people have visited. I don't think it's really critical information, but it's kind of fun. You know, like McDonald's. Maybe one day I'll be able to say something like "Over 3 Billion Served." Although on a personal level, that doesn't sound too flattering does it? Anyway, since it's my blog, when I click on the number, it redirects me to a website that gives me some statistics about my blog traffic. For instance, if you stop by and read my blog, it tells me your name, your address and what you're wearing. No? Okay. So it's not as helpful as it could be. It actually doesn't give me any personal info about who stops by my blog, but it does tell me how you got there. In other words, what webpage refers readers to a particular page. Really useless info but hey, I don't tell them how to run their site and I thought the counter was cute.

So as I was perusing the site the other day, I noticed some funny referral notations. Usually it just says another blog, like when someone links to me from their own site. But then I started noticing some funny Google searches popping up. When someone searches for certain things on Google, my website is in the results.

Here are some of the searches in which my blog appeared (exactly as they were entered by the search engine user):

"mike - no thanks"

WHERE THE TODAY'S YOUTH IS GOING

mostly useless drivel
(Someone Googled the actual name of my blog. That's cool.)

sarah brightman blogspot.
(This search was on the Spanish Google and the results only took .41 segundos)

kenny chesney and vane million

hard work without confidence is useless
(Amen. Glad I could help)

i'm dating a younger guy
(Ouch. The only saving grace about this one is that one of the first websites listed before mine is Loveshack.org. As some of you know, that's my cell phone ringer, and of the most underrated songs of the 80's)

how to use preparation H for under eye puffiness
(love this one!)

Rochelle, my heart

I see stupid people code
(?)

AND MY ALL TIME FAVORITE GOOGLE SEARCH WHICH SENDS YOU RIGHT TO MY SITE......

"community shower" + nudity
(I really hate to even speculate, lets just pray my father never reads this :)

I didn't die. Swear.

2006-09-05T23:06:00.000-07:00

But my life has been a little surreal again. It all started off innocently enough, during a little weekend trip to the river...

Doesn't that look like fun? :)

My girls and I enjoyed a nice relaxing weekend waterskiing, wakeboarding, etc., and had an incredibly fun end of summer weekend. Then we drove home, and the following has transpired since...

~ On the way home, my car exploded. Remember the cute little pretty car I've described in the past? Yeah. It exploded. Okay, so maybe not literally, but the engine overheated so bad that all four cylinders were destroyed and now I need a new engine. I was 70 miles from the nearest services, my girls and I (and the dog, by the way) were sitting in 121 degrees for 2 1/2 hours before we were found. Good times. The good news is that I heard from the mechanic today and the warranty is covering absolutely everything.

~ The next day my mom had what should have been pretty minor surgery; an outpatient procedure. She convinced me that the doctor told her she had cancer and she had to stay with me to recover. Then she convinced the doctor that she needed to stay in the hospital for not only one night but two. Of course I didn't object because it meant less time at my house. I finally had to take her home because the doctor said there was no legitimate reason for her to be there and even she knew my mom was faking it. I took her home, but not before I lied and said I was going away for Labor Day weekend and she had to go home Friday morning. I know I'm going to hell for it. It was worth it. When I talked to my sister (who lives up north) on Monday she asked if I had talked to our mom to see how she was. I said no...had she talked to her? She said no, she was camping all weekend and had no cell service. I quickly hung up, called my mom and used the no cell service excuse before my sister could. Hey, she owes me for moving 426 miles away (a fact she reminds me of every time my mom has an attack of drama), and leaving me with a mom that will eventually land me on the FBI's Most Wanted List.

~ I started my Astronomy class and I'm loving it! The whole first chapter of my book is about scale - just how miniscule we really are in perspective to what's out there. It blew me away and I can't wait to read the rest!

~ I'm going to a seminar tomorrow morning that my company is sending our office to called "GET MOTIVATED!" Well, okay.
I'm actually really excited. It has some awesome speakers lined up and I'm excited to see what I can learn from them.

~ I started going to the gym again and it's kicking my ass. Enough said.

~ I just watched one of the best movies I've ever seen and I think you should all run out right now and rent it. Go. Now. No really. Go.
It's called the House of D. Obscure little title, great movie! Go get it. And tell me if you did, because I want to know how much you loved it.

~ Right now it's 11:06 PM, which means it's technically still the 6th of September.
17 days and counting 'til I check the next box. And don't think I'm not counting.

...And Here's 50 More...

2006-08-18T20:00:00.000-07:00

If you're feeling especially bored right now, and want to see the first 50, see below. :)

51. I love to go out and have fun - dancing, letting loose, having a few drinks, basically getting crazy like I'm 15 years younger than I really am. I wonder if at my age I just look stupid.
52. My youngest daughter has the compassion of Mother Theresa. People comment on it all the time so I know it's not just me.
53. I'm probably the only Christian you'll ever meet who will admit to hating George Bush, and who voted Democrat in the last two elections.
54. When the top is down on my car, I think it's the prettiest car I've ever seen. And yes, a car can be pretty. :)
55. Two college age girls consider me their mentor. They have no idea how much I actually learn from them.
56. I'll pretty much sell my body for the Purple Fusion sushi at a tiny little restaurant in Laguna.
57. At the library today, I pathetically squealed with delight when I saw that they had the newest Danielle Steele novel in stock.
58. I think Bruce Springsteen, Jennifer Knapp, Jim Steinman and Bob Dylan are lyrical geniuses.
59. I love everything French; the food, the wine, the country, the language, the pace of life.
60. If I'm still single when I retire, I'm out of here. For reals (I just like saying "for reals," like I'm 6 :). South of France or the coast of Spain, whichever I can afford. Somewhere where I can see the ocean from my bedroom window and the sound of church bells wakes me up.
61. The grass in my backyard is embarrassing. It's dead.
62. I get my hair professionally cut less then once a year.
63. My middle name is Ann. Please. My parents had nine months to come up with something and this is what I get? Not that it's a crappy name or anything, it's just that every little girl born in 1966 got Ann as their middle name. Or Marie (my sister). Or Lynn.
64. I think my two daughter's names are absolutely beautiful and no one else in their schools have them.
65. I take a bath with Mr. Bubble every night without fail.
66. I will skip multiple meals if they're not worth eating. I'll hold out until I find something that I love. It could be a Wendy's cheeseburger, but I have to love it or I won't eat.
67. I find it almost impossible to turn down a dare, no matter how ridiculous. I consider it a matter of personal pride that I'll do just about anything!
68. The only time I'll open a bottle of wine by myself is when I'm either cooking an elaborate meal for just me (which is not very often) or by myself baking something late into the night. My specialties are Parmesan bread and lemon cake with raspberry sauce.
69. I never eat what I bake. I always wrap it up for my kids or take it to work for everyone there. I always love it, I just feel weird about eating it. I'm weird like that.
70. A medium coke with extra ice from McDonald's is my crack.
71. I just dropped $250 on NFL Sunday Ticket so I never have to miss a football game. Like I don't have anything better to spend my money on.
72. My house got toilet papered last night. Teenagers are such bliss.
73. I don't want to embarrass my friend John, but he expresses himself more eloquently than anyone else I know. This morning I got an e-mail that among other things said this, "In my heart of hearts I know that God is, at this very second, at work behind the scenes of your life preparing the most awe inspiring story of love and romance ever. You know, the kind you dream about." And that's just one. I'm lucky enough to be on the receiving end of an abundance of encouragement from this sweet friend.
74. I love him dearly, and he makes sure I know it's mutual.
75. It's all girls in my house, even the dog and cat are female. We're swimming in an estrogen ocean and most of the time I love it, but sometimes I want to pull my hair out.
76. Some guys with power washers were spraying the outside of my house today and the front door wasn't shut all the way. They power washed about 50 gallons of water right into my foyer. Nice.
77. My friends and I are going to ring in my big 4-0 in Las Vegas on an all girls trip. I'm sure there will more to follow on this one! :)
78. I hate to shop with a passion, and I only step foot into a mall if someone has asked me for something specific that I can't find anywhere else or it's too late to order it on-line.
79. I got my first job when I was 14 at Del Taco. I was too young to make the food so I worked on the "dining room" side of the counter, delivering trays to people's tables and cleaning up after them. And oh yeah, sweeping the floor every half hour.
80. After six months, I lied about my age and got a job at the movie theater. They didn't check those things back then and having a job at the movies at my age was considered to be the cream of the crop.
81. I'm very good friends with my ex-husband and his wife, and have actually taken people I've dated over to their house for BBQ's and other social gatherings. We spend Christmas Eve there every year to make it as easy as possible on our children.
82. My girls are the biggest slobs ever, and it's driving me nuts. I can't wait for school to start again just so they can't be home every day messing up the house.
83. My friend Jennifer got me started blogging and I got my friend John started. Then he got his brother Pete doing it and...wow, the possibilities are just endless here, aren't they?
84. I graduated from high school in 1984.
85. I didn't graduate from college with a B.A. until 2003. "I could have finished; I chose not to. I'm not into this completion thing." (Come on, ten bucks to the person who can tell me what movie that's from! :)
86. I'm addicted to stick pretzels.
87. My daughters are addicted to Lean Cuisine spaghetti and meatballs. Parenting at it's finest.
89. All three of us are addicted to re-runs of Will & Grace. Again, parenting at it's finest.
90. My friend John gave me a book a couple of years ago called Wild at Heart and I think it's the best non-fiction book I've every read. Really. You should pick it up.
91. I turned on the radio this morning in my car and my favorite country radio station has been replaced by a hip-hop station and I'm bitter. Seriously, I feel ripped off and like someone should have consulted me first.
92. Someone from my past just bought me a trip to Barbados for my birthday, for he and I to go together. There were several years when I would have jumped at the chance to have that trip and a healthy relationship with him, but now I made him cancel it. I've spent more time than I care to remember allowing this person to thrash my heart, and undervalue what I have to offer. To quote Garth Brooks (who I really can't stand), "Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers."
93. I'm an incurable insomniac and I have been for many years.
94. I think "Time to Say Goodbye" by Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman is one of the most beautiful songs ever recorded.
95. I was such a girly girl when I was little. I took voice lessons, ballet, gymnastics and piano.
96. I just signed up for tap dancing lessons - at my age! I guess I'm still the same girly girl! :)
97. I get the most beautiful sunsets from the balcony off of my bedroom.
98. I have a step-brother and a step-sister, both younger than me. Even though I was 29 when our parents got married, you would think we grew up together, we're that compatible, as they are with my older brother and sister. When we're all together, we never differentiate between our biological siblings and our step-siblings; we introduce each other as brothers and sisters, always.
99. When I was a little girl I would get in trouble for bringing my Nancy Drew Mysteries to the dinner table, even trying to pull them out at restaurants.
100. If you've read all 100 of these, I'm extremely flattered. Thanks for hanging. :)

What can I say. I'm a sheep.

2006-08-16T09:30:00.000-07:00

I'm a joiner by nature, which is why I now feel compelled to copy what some of you have done on your blogs recently (don't make me name names, you know who you are).
My first 50.....

Please hold your applause 'til the end.

1. I'm freaked out about turning 40 next month (well now I'm just being redundant, aren't I?).
2. I'm the youngest of three kids, and only because I became a mother before my siblings did they stop treating me like the baby. Now they call me for parenting advice.
3. I'm a big old stinkin' daddy's girl, who still calls her daddy "Daddy."
4. I'm usually pretty frugal at the grocery store, but I'm a whore for anything lavender. I'll pay way too much for lavender body wash, fabric softener, etc.
5. I'm a fanatical star gazer. I just signed up for an Astronomy class at the community college, which I hear is actually quite difficult. I can't wait for it to start in two weeks.
6. I've been in a Mexican jail twice. Once because I truly got arrested, the other time because my friends did and I had to bail them out. The only reason I got them out was because one of my friends convinced the guards that I was pregnant with his child.
7. I believe that love makes the world go 'round. Seriously. I think it's the most important thing worth striving for in this life...those loving relationships that you can cherish when everything else is gone.
8. I love classical music and am listening to it right now.
9. I have a weird phobia of grasshoppers. You can just never tell where those little pests are going to hop next and it freaks me the hell out to the point of being irrational.
10. When I was little, I was painfully shy. I had no confidence until I was at least 17 years old.
11. My ex-husband was a triplet, and even though I knew it wouldn't happen, I always wanted multiple births.
12. I ended up dating my ex-husband after his brother brought him along on a date that was supposed to be with him.
13. When I met him, I was already seeing a very nice guy named Scott who had just been drafted by the Cleveland Indians. I broke his heart and feel a little bad about it to this day.
14. I read about two books a week. Sometimes when I'm really into a good book, I resent that I have to do anything responsible and that I just can't be home reading my book.
15. If someone were trying to prove that homosexuality is hereditary, they could use my family as a case study. I have a sister, two aunts, and three cousins who are gay. That we know of.
16. If I have to have an important conversation with someone, I practice it, sometimes out loud. It's led to more than one embarrassing situation when I get caught at it.
17. I was in a car accident seven years ago in which I should have died. Jaws of Life, trauma surgeons, the whole nine yards. The hospital told everyone who called, including my family, that I would not make it through the day. I didn't see my life flash before my eyes as some will speculate, but right before I passed out I did have a very clear mental picture of someone telling my daughters that their mother had died. I think God saved me to stay on this earth and be their mom.
18. I'm really small but don't feel like it until I see a picture of me standing in a crowd.
19. My favorite color is purple and I pretty much can't get enough of it.
20. I share a birthday with Bruce Springsteen and every year my brother calls and says the same thing, "Hey. Don't forget to call Bruce today. It's his birthday. Never mind, I'll tell him. I'm seeing him later for drinks."
21. Every year on my sister's birthday, he leaves this message for her, "Hey. Don't forget to call your sister today. It's her birthday."
22. I collect antique perfume bottles.
23. I make my own Limoncello and other infused alcohols, like mandarin, green apple and blackberry vodkas and give it away as gifts.
24. I also make my own paper.
25. I pretty much think I'm Martha Stewart.
26. I wear a size 5 shoe and know the only pair in my size that every shoe store will have is the one on display.
27. I've been covering gray in my hair since my mid 20's.
28. I've been to India and to the home of Mother Theresa, where the terminally ill go to die with dignity. I've met and spent time with the nun that took over her mission.
29. I've also been to Haiti where I've sponsored a child for 10 years. I got to meet his family and see where he lives.
30. I have a lifetime to do list which I take very seriously. Some things I've been able to cross off, such as climbing the Great Wall of China and trekking in the Andes. Others I have yet to achieve, such as running with the bulls in Pamplona, getting on stage with Barry Manilow, visiting all seven continents (three more to go) and finding the love of my life (What? Doesn't everybody want to get on stage with Barry Manilow?).
31. I have over 100 cousins.
32. My parents separated when I was 10, but didn't divorce until I was 29.
33. I played varsity tennis in high school.
34. I thought I met the love of my life while in college. He was beautiful, kind and loyal. I broke up with him because he had a business degree from one of the most prestigious colleges in California and was working at a sporting goods store and I thought doing nothing with his life. He had no dreams, and I couldn't imagine a future with a man who had no dreams.
35. I'm half Mexican on my mom's side and Danish on my dad's. My mom is dark and my dad is as white and blonde as they come. No one can believe we're related. I ended up somewhere in between. When I was growing up, I always thought my parents made a funny looking couple.
36. I have one child who looks like my mom (dark skin, dark eyes) and one who looks like my dad (fair skin, light hair, and VERY blue eyes). I love it.
37. My bedroom is my sanctuary.
38. After my bad car accident, I now have what is called Chiari's syndrome. The bottom portion of my brain is slipping down into the hole in the bottom of my skull where my brain stem and spinal cord go. I have no adverse symptoms though, and I probably never will. I'm very lucky. But it's kind of a cool story.
39. I had a really bad lisp when I was a child and also couldn't say my R's. I was in speech therapy until Jr. High, when I absolutely refused to go any longer.
40. For that reason, I had a dreaded fear of public speaking until I was forced into it for a job I had. Now I can get up in a room full of thousands of people and it doesn't bother me at all.
41. I had the same best friend from the time I was 15 until I was 28 when she moved to Ireland. We're still close. Her name's Maggie. :)
42. My daughters are athletic studs.
43. I dated an actor for awhile who was actually on a TV comedy every week. He was a drama queen, but I got to go to cool parties at famous people's homes!
44. I believe in mind over matter and have learned most things in life this way - forcing myself to do that which makes me uncomfortable.
45. I recently had a reiki master come to my home and do a session on me and I think it was one of the coolest things ever.
46. During the fall I put on warm clothes, sit outside and close my eyes and listen to the wind in the trees, and I am at such peace that I think God created that sound just for me.
47. I've always wanted to learn how to tapdance.
48. My favorite movies are Life is Beautiful and Breakfast at Tiffany's, in that order.
49. I have more heroes than I can count.
50. I think I know the most important thing to making a marriage work. Seriously. Feel free to ask what it is, I may devote an entire post to it.

I think I can only hang with 50 things right now, even though I know the list is supposed to be 100. Maybe I'll get to the next 50 later.

I'm having a moment.

2006-08-14T16:15:00.000-07:00

The other night I caught Must Love Dogs on cable. I read the book and thought it was okay, but my daughter wanted to watch the movie when it came on the other night. I felt a sad affinity with the main character, Sarah. She's the last single woman in her family and at holidays, her various family members feel the need to hand her business cards of available men that they're aware of. My family isn't quite as aggressive about it, but I must admit that it seems "Why Steph is Still Single" has become the eighth Wonder of the World in my immediate circle of family and friends. Not to mention that everyone and their mother (literally) has the perfect man for me, and would I be interested in meeting him?

I am very blessed. Abundantly blessed. I know this on a daily basis. I have the two most beautiful girls (inside and out) that I have ever had the pleasure to know. I have a family who adores me and the feeling is mutual, and an incredible network of friends who truly care about me and get me. Not to mention that I've been blessed financially and am able to raise my children in a beautiful and safe environment. I just about want to cry every time I write the check for my mortgage, but recover quickly for two reasons: it's all mine and the money is always there. I also very much like who I am. The last 39 years have not been the easiest road emotionally, but I believe that I've learned from the good and the bad equally. I believe that the best we can hope for when faced with adversity is safety and personal growth, and I think I've been lucky to have both.

I am very strong in my faith and believe that my blessings are from God. I've worked very hard, but that in no way means that I'm any more deserving than anyone else. In fact, I don't know why I've been given so much. I've certainly never had a sense of entitlement. I've literally been all around the world and can say with all confidence, "I have been blessed."

So why then am I not content? Why do I see this movie and want to cry about my miserable God-forsaken single life? Why in a million years would I think my life is miserable and God-forsaken when I've already admitted how blessed I am? Why, why, why?

Ask anyone who knows me well (John, Jen...feel free to jump in here and agree wholeheartedly...) I am a fricking catch!! I would date me in a heartbeat. I don't have any weird habits, no obvious facial twitches, no unnatural attachments to my father or any four legged animals. I think I'm a deep thinker (but how do we ever really know?), I love with all my heart, and put others before myself. I chew with my mouth closed, I have a great sense of humor and better than average oral hygiene. I believe I am of above average intelligence, I make my own money, I work hard, and I have almost no inhibitions which makes for hysterical stories after hanging out with me. Not to mention great hair. So what the hell?

Where the hell is my true love, dammit?!

I've been single for 9 years. NINE. That's 63 in dog years, which is actually appropriate to mention here since it applies to over half the men I've dated. I'm turning 40 in an hour and a half (which, by the way, is just my smartass way of saying an insignificantly small amount of time, you know like, "I dated that loser for about an hour and a half." But thank you so much to all of you who wished me a happy birthday last time I used the expression!:) It's actually not until next month). Anyway, back to my griping. I have this sweet man who happens to be one of my dealers (No, not of the drug variety, one of my dealers at work), who is a great-grandpa and who has a huge crush on me. Yes, I can always get the under 28 and over 75 crowd - no problem. Anyway, he says it's because men are intimidated by me and are afraid I will say no. Anyone out there who's thinking of saying the same thing to me just.save.it. I stopped buying that one somewhere around year number 3. Again, ask anyone who knows me (John, Jen...your cue)...I am anything but intimidating.

So, yeah, part of me feels like a total unappreciative bitch for even whining about this. I love my life. I have a great life. And like I said before, I think I'm incredibly lucky, probably more than most. Yet here I sit and whine. I whine for the one thing my life lacks, the one thing that I would give up the money for in a heartbeat - a soulmate. Someone to share my heart with, share the load with, share my life with. I berate myself for all of the mistakes I've made, the bad decisions, the time wasted on dead-end situations, wishing instead that I could have controlled who my heart chose to love. And I watch the clock tick.

Alright. I'm done whining. For now. But don't think this is the last you'll here of this sorry-ass story over the next month.

The Fog is Definitely Lifting!

2006-08-08T11:56:00.000-07:00

I've been so out of touch lately, but I think I'm on the rebound! First of all, thank you so much for all of the encouragement from my last post. Joey has had his final surgeries and is doing much better. He needed surgery on his right ankle and left foot, requiring a total of 28 pins, 6 plates and I don't know how many screws to reconstruct them both. In the words of the surgeon, his ankle was "pulverized." The orthopedist is predicting that it will take a year for him to be able to walk completely on his own and at that time he will most probably have a limp. But thank God he's alive! :) Thanks for your prayers.

As some of you know, my girls and I are hard core Steeler fans. And no...not the bandwagon kind...we were there for the lean years. It all started when I was younger and my dad followed the Steelers, and now they're our team too. We wear our jerseys every Sunday during football season while we watch the games. If it's an afternoon or evening game, we go to a Steeler bar that's not far from here where everyone goes absolutely nuts over every completed pass! It's a great time. When I was growing up, we had season tickets for the short time the Raiders were in Los Angeles, and of course we made a couple of the Rams home games while they were here too. But I've never seen the Steelers play live. That is until now!!! This weekend my oldest daughter and I are road-tripping it to Phoenix, AZ to watch the Steelers play the Cardinals in pre-season. I paid way too much for the tickets on eBay, but it was worth it. I CANNOT wait!! We also love baseball (in fact my daughter loves it even more then football) and the hotel I booked in Phoenix is giving us two free lower level tickets to the Diamondbacks game for Friday night, and even driving us to and from the stadium. I'm not telling my daughter about that part and she's going to be so happy about it. She also has been bugging me to get her hair highlighted and I've told her I won't pay for it and she has to save her allowance. For another surprise, I made an appointment at a ritzy hair salon down the street from our hotel for her to get it done on Friday. She is going to be in Heaven. And what great mom-daughter bonding this will be, just the two of us hanging out for a whole weekend together, doing everything we love the most. We both need it. (By the way, the younger one can't go because she's got a soccer tournament. I've never missed one before and I feel bad about missing this one, but she was so sweet aboutme going, knowing how much fun this would be for her sister and I)

I feel so lucky to be getting my 15 year old for a whole weekend all to myself. And she seems genuinely excited to be spending it with me! :)

Summer Fog

2006-07-27T16:27:00.000-07:00

I've been in a five day fog. Things are so surreal to me right now, I'm afraid there's something I'm not seeing. I'm hoping it will make more sense if I write it down.

I have more friends than anyone I know. Truly. I say that with no arrogance whatsoever, just gratitude. I'm an incredibly lucky girl to have the number of deep and true friendships that I do. I consider each of them an incredible blessing. I have a group of friends I jokingly call 'the cult,' partly because these women can never leave me. :) We're very tight, very close to each other's families. There are four of us, and we are committed for life. The other three have been a support to me in ways I can't describe and I hope I have done the same for them. I could go on and on about them, but that is not the point of this post.

Separately I have a friend named Rochelle. She has been my best friend for over 10 years and I have never known friendship like hers. She knows everything about me and loves me unconditionally. She knows all my junk - everything I've ever done that makes me cry in shame to think about, the good, bad and ugly - and she never judges me, just loves me. For reasons that are too sad and complicated to explain here, we lost touch in January after 10 years. It is one of the saddest losses I have ever experienced, and I miss her terribly. There have been times in my life when she's been my lifeline and she's the closest thing to a soul mate I've ever known.

One of my friends in 'the cult' has a son named Joey who is 20 years old. I don't know what it is to have a son, but if I did it would surely feel like my love for Joey. Since he was young he and I have had a bond that is hard to describe, but for which we are all grateful, especially me and his mom. When important issues come up in Joey's life, my friend Pam will call me and ask me to speak to him, because I'm an adult whose opinion he respects enough to consider. The years have been filled with great conversations with this incredible kid. He always wanted my opinions on decisions he needed to make, and he wanted to hear about my own experiences and how I handled them. Most recently, Joey wanted to move to L.A. to pursue an acting career. He's been successful as an actor. If I mentioned some movies and commercials he's been in, you would say, "Oh yeah! I know that kid." His mother heard about him dropping out of college and immediately got on the phone with me asking me to talk some sense into him. Joey and I talked for hours and as much as I hate to admit it, by the time we were through, I realized that this was a dream he needed to pursue, and I needed to tell his mom what I thought. So off he went to L.A. Well, since he's been there, he's done everything except pursue that dream. He's messed up the opportunity completely, and I got numerous calls from Pam telling me he was now taking drugs and spiraling downward. She needed me to call and kick his ass and I was on it.

I called Joey on Monday and didn't get him. In fact, I didn't get him on the phone until Thursday. I was coordinating my friends wedding and I could not flake on her, so I told him when all the wedding responsibilities were over, we needed to talk, and we made a commitment to talk on Sunday. He thanked me for calling, said he couldn't wait to talk to me and that he would call Sunday by noon. He never called. I called him, no answer. At 5 PM, I got a call from Pam and she was driving south from L.A., following an ambulance that Joey was being transported in, and she wanted me to meet them at the hospital. At 4:00 that morning Joey, drunk and high, wandered out of his friend's backyard in Topanga Canyon. He wasn't paying attention, fell 30 feet down an almost vertical hill, tumbling end over end with such force that his shirt got ripped off of his body. His momentum was stopped when his face smashed up against a tree. He didn't stop completely, however, and fell over the side of a cliff into a ravine below. A couple of hours later, unable to feel his legs, he got up enough strength to reach his cell phone, called his friends at the party who called 911. After several hours, they were finally able to get him out of the ravine and to the hospital. When I got to the hospital, I went to the trauma unit where I learned the extent of Joey's injuries. He has a broken nose, and will need reconstructive surgery on his face. He shattered his ankle on his right leg and will need surgery to reconstruct his ankle. He broke his left foot in three places, and sprained his wrist. But by far the worst injury is to one of his lumbar vertebrae. It completely shattered, called a burst fracture. I saw the x-rays and the vertebrae was in at least a hundred little pieces, some of which were embedded in his spinal column, compressing the nerves there. One piece tore the lining that covers his spinal cord. Joey should have died in that ravine, but he didn't. He should never walk again, but he will. After two surgeries to repair the vertebrae, the doctors have implanted a titanium cage in place of the shattered vertebrae, and they successfully removed all of the bone fragments from his spinal column, without causing major trauma to the nerves. They were also able to repair the torn tissue covering his spinal cord. It is an absolute miracle. The second surgery was this morning and was a success, as was the first. It's hard to gauge his mobility in his feet because of the injuries to his foot and ankle, but he has feeling in both.

As I was leaving the hospital today, I ran into my friend Rochelle's younger sister, who strangely didn't seem at all surprised to see me - that is until I asked what she was doing there. She assumed we were there for the same reason - to see Rochelle. My heart absolutely dropped. I was terrified that something had happened to this beautiful and priceless friend of mine. Whatever had happened six months ago to separate us no longer mattered. Last night she had a seizure and lost consciousness while standing in her kitchen. There was no one there to catch her and she fell flat on her face on her kitchen floor, splitting her forehead and breaking her nose. She had surgery this morning and thankfully, will recover fully. Since we haven't spoken for six months, and I had no idea how she would receive me walking into her hospital room, I nervously followed her sister down the hall. At first she was too groggy to respond to me, then when she did all she asked was how I knew she was there. She was disoriented and didn't really understand much of what I was saying, but at least she knew I was there. I stayed for several hours, knowing that I was given this chance to restore our friendship, one that leaves an ache in my heart to this day because of the way it ended six months ago. I knew I couldn't let her go again. Back then she was swimming in self-destruction and refusing the help she needed to pull herself out of it, including the help I was offering. Instead she buried herself in denial, feeling victimized by others. She thought I abandoned her in her time of greatest need, after loving me unconditionally. Six months ago, we could not see eye to eye, and there is a part of me that feels I let her down. I've spent six months mourning a friendship that I thought was irreparably damaged.

Between these two recent events, and Lisa losing her son a couple of weeks ago, I'm no longer sure of anything anymore. I feel lost, and that I'm floundering in the uncertainty that is surrounding those I love; surrounding all of us. I'm having to sit back and watch some of those most dear to me suffer incredible pain, life-altering tragedies and, in Lisa's case, insurmountable loss. My boss was nice enough to let me work from the hospital and not worry about coming into my office or going out in the field. I've been at the hospital pretty much 24/7 since Sunday. So down the halls I walk, between Rochelle's room and ICU where Joey sleeps, laptop in hand, the picture of professionalism and confidence. Confidence has always been something I can fake very well. But right now I'm a fraud. My confidence has not just been shaken, but the chair has been pulled out from underneath it. If I took the time to lean against one of those walls, I would surely slide down it in a heap of tears and confusion.

I don't know. I have no answers. I'm in a fog.

As I was saying goodbye to Rochelle today, she was half asleep. I took her hand, leaned over and told her I love her. And she whispered back, "I love you too. As much as I ever have."

To see the blessing in all of this means to thank God that after months of rehab, Joey will walk again. Rochelle will heal. And I have my best friend back.

Good Times...

2006-07-14T12:18:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking that I've really had so little to blog about lately and so I haven't taken the time to sit down and write. As I was thinking today, however, I realized that I've had so many cool things happen over the last week, that I'll just throw those out and hopefully, you guys will enjoy hearing about them.

~ First and Foremost...Yup! See those purple flowers up there? Just arrived today from my sweet friend John, the one I absolutely don't deserve. No reason, just to make me smile - and they sure did.

~ On Sunday of last week, I got to pick up my daughters from the airport after they had been gone for about a week. It was a good break for a few days, especially after having my entire family at my house the previous week, but then I just really missed them. Picking them up was a treat! My friend Sara went with me and they just cracked me up from the minute I walked into the airport. As we're driving home, my 11 year old says from the backseat, "Guess what?! We sat next to the nicest lady on the plane! She gave us gum!!" And then, totally deadpan says, "Only she poured it out of an envelope and now I can't feel my tongue." She is hysterical, and her comic timing is perfect!

~ On Tuesday night, my friend Chera and I went to a wine tasting at a local wine bar. We do this occasionally, but it wasn't our borderline alcoholic tendencies that got us there that night - it was our cheap asses. They were giving away a free insulated double wine bag with bottle opener to the first 20 customers. Needless to say, we were on it!

~ Last night, my girls were at their dad's house so Chera came over for some martinis, and I whipped up some chicken Caesar salads. We spent the entire night sitting on my kitchen counter while discussing a book that Work in Progress turned me onto called The Wisdom of a Starry Night. It is the coolest book with a beautiful work of art on one page and a thought provoking question on the other, such as "Who is in your inner circle?," and "When do you feel at peace?" I absolutely LOVE this book (thank you WIP) and it made a great night for Chera and I last night as we went through it answering the questions to each other.

~ And last, but certainly not least...I had one of the greatest experiences of my recent past just a couple of nights ago. As some of you know, I'm approaching a milestone birthday. To paraphrase Carrie Bradshaw, I'm getting ready to check the next box. Turning the big 4-0, and not adjusting very well to my impending old age. Knowing that makes this story all the more sweet. While out a couple of weeks ago, I met a very young man who wanted to take me out sometime. Now I have admitted that I do have a thing for younger men (a sad reminder), but it's not like it's really ever going to work out with an enormous age difference. But it was flattering and I really thought why the hell not go for one drink? So I met this young man, whose name is Brian, at a restaurant in town with a patio. As we were walking outside to the patio, the owner stopped us to let us know that they were only open for drinks, and then asked Brian for his ID. I continued to get settled in my seat and the conversation continued like this:

Owner: I'm going to have to see your ID, too.
Steph: Really?
Owner: Oh yeah. I have a daughter who's older than you.
Steph: Reeaalllly?
Owner (while he looks at my ID): Whoa. I didn't realize you were so old.
Steph: No problem! I appreciate you asking for it!

Meanwhile, at the next table, is a family eating dinner. After overhearing the conversation, the father said, "Okay, now I have to ask...because you don't look like you could be even be approaching 30! I need to know..."
To which I respond, "Thanks!! You're my new best friend. I LOVE you!!!" And he continues, "No, there's no way you're even near 30!" At which time he turns to his wife and say, "I'm sorry, honey, I have to ask her (looks at me)...how old are you?" I respond with, "I'm about an hour and a half away from turning 40." Both the man and his wife said, "WHAT?! NO WAY!" And of course, I am eating this up. Every single word of it! :) I said, "Let's do this again next week...same time, same place, okay? Here let me buy a drink for my new best friends!" It was hysterical! Then to make the night even funnier, the man turns to my date and says, "Alright...now I really have to know...how old are you?" Brian replied, "Twenty-seven." The man went nuts. He said, "Yeeeeeaaaaahhhh!!!!!!" I looked at his wife and we smiled, both knowing that if we weren't there, they be locked in a man-hug, with this man high-fiving Brian and patting him on the back! That whole experience was about enough to sustain me through the rest of the year! :)

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Changing Direction...

2006-07-05T08:48:00.000-07:00

This is where I live. My own backyard (well, actually my front yard since behind me is a road). It's a beautiful lake, rather small, but incredibly peaceful. It only takes about fifteen minutes to walk the mile around the lake and it's one of the most peaceful times of the day for me.

Yesterday, July 4th, I took this picture while walking back towards my house. The blankets on the bank of the lake are not Orange County's contribution to the AIDS quilt, as it might look, just the community reserving their spots for prime firework viewing.

Now, my camera doesn't do this picture the justice it deserves. The greens are much greener, the mountains more majestic, and on some of the smaller trees in front, there are the most beautiful purple flowers.

The funny thing about this picture is how I came to take it. I was at the Beach Club - a man made lagoon on the side of the lake I was standing on, about 30 yards down the path from my house. The lake water is nasty and not good for swimming, so my community has built a small lagoon with chlorinated water, sand and picnic areas for families to gather. There's just a narrow bridge separating the lagoon from the real lake water. Needless to say, it was packed for the 4th.

I went early to reserve a lounge chair on the sand, and at 8 AM I got the very last one. I was meeting my friends that night for a yacht ride around Newport Harbor to watch the fireworks (very hoity toity :), but spent the early part of the day by myself, so I only needed one chair. Since I live so close, I would just walk home whenever I needed something. Being the Coke addict that I am (the liquid kind), and fountain Coke snob, I walked at one point to the Carl's Jr. that sits in the shopping center around the other side of the lake. I'm a terrible creature of habit. I walk the same way around every day, same direction, same path, stopping at the same spots to look at the beauty of the lake. Coming back from Carl's Jr., however, it made more sense to backtrack to the Beach Club the way I came. And I'm so glad I did. How is it possible that after living on this lake for 8 months, and walking around it every day - morning or evening and sometimes both - I have never seen this beautiful perspective? I always walk around the other way and this scene ends up at my back, or I end up walking right underneath it, basically not seeing it from the same angle. I am certainly no philosopher, but how have I become so narrow minded, going through life with blinders on, and essentially blocking out that which is beyond my limited and "comfortable" perspective? It made me think about what something as small and simplistic as changing your direction can lead to. I'm not someone who embraces change, but rather rolls with it. I can't say I don't like change because I feel like I'm an adventurous person, who seeks out new and exciting life experiences. But that's not change. That's adventure. Change is like what's coming up for me shortly, when I have to dust off my resume and, for possibly the first time in my life, seek out a position that has not been offered to me. And let me tell ya...the biggest thing that came with this new pretty house on the lake is the mortgage, which I'm pretty sure is higher than the national debt. Being a single mom, the kind of change that will make me uncertain about meeting that mortgage is more than a little frightening. I'm having to face life changing decisions about certain relationships in my life. All I can do is pray that I'm making the right decisions because we never really know if we are until we see them play out, and for me that could be years. Staying complacent can be so comfortable, don't you think?

So while I was busy contemplating these changes in my life and my new found perspective, I came home to an e-mail yesterday telling me that one of my dearest friends, Lisa, has lost her oldest son. He was kayaking in Newport Harbor the night before and suffered some kind of a seizure. Because it was nighttime, Lisa's husband who was kayaking with him, couldn't find him in the dark and sadly he drowned, being found by the Coast Guard several hours later. Her son Richard was the father of twin little girls.
Well. Lisa never had the option of staying in her comfortable cocoon, did she? Her life is irreparably changed with a loss that I cannot even imagine, not to mention her son's wife and children. It will probably be years, if ever, that she wakes up in the morning and thinks a career decision means anything at all. Years before she walks around a lake path such as this and cares which direction she is headed. Years before her husband wakes up without being haunted by the memory of that night, and his futile effort to find his son in the dark. This woman who has meant so much to me, an unwavering support in my times of need, is now dealing with something that is too horrific to even gauge. No words can touch it, and yet as a mother, there's that selfish part of me that laid my head on my pillow last night and thanked God that it wasn't one of my own children. Sort of puts my decisions into some much needed perspective. A new job - just not that big. The relationships I'm talking about - definitely not life or death.

I don't know what to do for my friend Lisa - I don't know what to say. And in my floundering helplessness, all I can do is love her and pray for her and her family, that amongst the sleepless nights and unanswered questions they will inevitably face, that peace will eventually find them.

When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
~William Shakespeare

Seven Days of Pure Corruption...

2006-06-24T22:03:00.000-07:00

My girls and I are taking a road trip tomorrow. After my little one's soccer tournament, we're driving up to northern California to pick up my two little nieces, who are 5 and 3 years old. I get to bring them home with me and keep them for a week at which time my sister will pick them up and take them back home, after the requisite trip to Disneyland, of course. What she doesn't know is how much fun the girls are really going to have at Auntie Steph's house. They're already trained to know that when Auntie Steph is around, they get stuff. They pretty much get whatever they want, and I think it's only right that they do. That's my job and I take it very seriously. I'm going to spoil the little stuffin' out of them. It's been awhile since I had really little ones around the house, so it's going to be a week of water wings in the pool, trips to the lake and the beach, snickerdoodles for breakfast, you know...the usual. On the older one's 5th birthday last year, I drove up to spend it with her and she ran into the bedroom in the morning and said, "Guess what, Auntie Steph! I'm five today - I'm a whole hand!!" How stinkin' cute is that? So of course, I told her that I was going to make her a special breakfast for her 5th birthday - chocolate chip pancakes! And my sister vetoed it. Said she was going to have birthday cake that day and it was too much sugar. What kind of bullshit is that? For her first breakfast at Auntie Steph's house, she'll have none other than chocolate chip pancakes. With extra whipped cream.

But this week is also time for paybacks. You see, my sister is very strict, demanding only the best behavior from her kids and hasn't always appreciated my attempts at corruption. The sad part for her though is that I had children first and she set the standard for corrupting each other's kids. When my teenager was just two years old, my sister taught her the following dialogue...

Sister: "What does a doggie do?"
Daughter: "Ruff. Ruff."
S: "Good girl! What does a kitty cat do?"
D: "Meow. Meow."
S: "You're right! What does a ducky do?"
D: "Quack. Quack."
S: "Yup. Now, what does Mommy do?"
D: "Nag, nag, nag, nag, nag."

Yeah. Nice. Not to mention teaching her "See Food," and other slightly undesirable behavior for a child while in public. To this day, she's still bitter that she named a child after me, and I named a dog after her. So this is my chance at total and complete corruption. I've tried it in smaller doses in the past. This last Christmas, I had the 5 year old convinced that my sister got nothing but coal from Santa when she was a little girl. She now speculates on what her mother could have possibly done that was hideous enough for that unspeakable punishment, and to this day will offer possibilities as she thinks of them. But that was peanuts. I need to get serious about this and I'm taking suggestions. If you have any great ideas let me know. And yeah, the usual rules apply...you know...no one can get hurt, no permanent emotional damage, nothing that will get them in any serious trouble with their mother, blah blah blah. But let's get down to the most important qualification of a great suggestion...it must make Auntie Steph the hero. :)

I'll keep you posted.

Words I Wish I Wrote 6.16.06

2006-06-16T07:40:00.000-07:00

Love Dave Barry!

"I argue very well. Ask any of my remaining friends. I can win an arguement on any topic, against any opponent. People know this and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of great respect, they don't even invite me."

~ Dave Barry

Monday Memories 6.12.06

2006-06-12T09:04:00.000-07:00

Just a little warning for those under the age of 18, or those sensitive to explicit content...stop reading here. With that said.....

Did I ever tell you about the time that Kiefer Sutherland went down on me?
Here's the scoop...there's this dive bar near where I live called the Gypsy Lounge, where local bands play quite often. Really just the most successful local bands; most of them have recording contracts already on smaller labels. There's a guy in one of the bands who is good friends with Kiefer Sutherland, so Kiefer sightings are quite frequent. One night I'm in the bar with several friends and my friend Brian and I decide to go to the bar and get a couple of drinks. There was only one stool available and it was right next to Kiefer and his friends, so of course I took it. Brian was standing up on the other side of me. After a few minutes, everyone in Kiefer's group was looking on the ground, all bent over as though they dropped something. Several minutes passed and they're still crouched down looking, so I asked if they needed me to move because Kiefer was just about under my chair looking for whatever it was he dropped. I had already swung my legs over to the other side of the stool. The floor of the Gypsy is SO nasty, that I couldn't imagine anything worth digging around on the ground to find. After another minute, Kiefer pulled out a lighter to see better and by now is almost underneath my stool! He was also dangerously close to my friend Brian by this time. So again I asked if he would like me to move because I felt like he was probably getting to know me a little better than I expected at that point, and he looked up at me and said no I was fine. So I responded with, "Well, okay. In that case then...while you're down there...." or something equally corny and stupid. And right as Kiefer was looking up at me with a "What the fu**" look, Brian actually winked at him and said, "Yeah. Thanks Kiefer." It was hysterical!! We got a courtesy laugh from Kiefer, but we didn't care. We went around the rest of the night and told that story to anyone who would listen, and it has gone down in history as The Night Kiefer Sutherland Went Down On Me.

So Kiefer, if you're reading this, and I'm sure you are...Thanks for one of the best non-sexual sexual experiences of my life.
Call me.

Monday Memories 6.5.06

2006-06-05T10:17:00.000-07:00

This is one of my favorite pictures in the whole world.

It was June of 2001, and I was with a group from my church. I had four friends on my team (I was the only girl), and a drover for our pack mule. We flew into Lima, Peru, took a charter flight to Arequipa, a 16 hour bus ride up and over a narrow portion of the Andes into the Cotahuasi Valley, and trekked for seven days until we came to this remote village at 13,500 feet. At our highest point, we were at 16,000. I can't imagine anywhere on earth being more remote, except maybe somewhere in the Amazon. We had nothing but some rough maps, a GPS, and a satellite phone in case of emergencies. We trekked for eight hours a day, filtered our own water from running streams, and basically flew by the seat of our pants the rest of the way.

We arrived in Arequipa ready to board the bus for the very long and winding trip through the mountains. While we were there, however, Peru was rocked with an 8.1 earthquake and the most severe damage was in the town square in Arequipa where we happened to be sightseeing at the time. Everyone pretty much ran for cover, but by the time it was over, the town square was almost in ruins. The church in the picture below, the Basilica Cathedral, built in the 1500's had lost one of it's towers. I have pictures of the church with both towers, and then some taken literally ten minutes later, with only one.

In Peru, you can buy antibiotics in drug stores without a prescription. So I took what spending money I had, bought up all the antibiotics, pain relievers and bandages we could find and started out. We had heard the villages had been hit very hard, and their houses made of mud and clay had crumbled. After reaching Cotahuasi, we took off on our trek, only now we found ourselves climbing over rubble and fallen rocks, instead of the neatly blazed trails the Cechuan people had created. On our way into one village, we came across the little girls in the picture above. They took us by surprise, as you can tell by what I'm wearing. It would have been culturally insensitive for me to walk into a village dressed like that. With more warning I would have put on a jacket and zipped on the bottom leg portion of my pants.

While we were there, we visited four villages much like this one, the largest of them with 100 people total. Each with beautiful children just like these little girls and people who were filled with love and hope, despite the catastrophe that had just occurred. They were so incredibly hospitable to us and so happy to have us there. They opened their humble homes to us, cooked for us, and sent us home with handmade gifts. The lessons we learned from them in humanity and kindness are deeply ingrained in our hearts. As we were leaving the valley, we were sent off with love and gratitude. We knew without a doubt, however, that although they were grateful for the help we brought during difficult times, we were the ones who were truly blessed by our visit.

So Sweet...

2006-05-31T21:38:00.000-07:00

You've heard me mention my friend, John. If you haven't, feel free to read this and get caught up. He's an incredible man and I'm blessed to know him. Well John sends me flowers quite often - he's just like that. He sends them every year for my birthday, but mostly he sends them for no reason at all. Today he sent them because he knows the last day of the month is particularly stressful for me at work. What more could a girl ask for? (Yeah, John...that was just for you ;) **

Since he lives in Washington and I live in Southern California, John never gets to see the flowers he sends. And every time I receive them, I say the same thing..."They're so beautiful! I wish you could see them. I'll send you a picture of them!" And I never do. I'm a flake like that. This nice man sends me flowers and I can't even break out the digital camera before they die, to show him the beauty he has added to my life.

So today's the day...I'm turning over a new me! ;)

And what did I tell ya? Yup - They're beautiful!!!

And by the way..."Hey, John! As always...Thank you, my sweet friend."

**Just a little side bar...John jokingly asked me that very question when we spoke tonight and my answer was, "A firmer ass. A girl can always ask for a firmer ass!" ;)

Monday Memories 05.29.06

2006-05-29T21:29:00.000-07:00

Since it's Memorial Day, I wanted to remember an incredibly special man ~ my father-in-law, Edward Frances (with a last name that is incredibly Irish and the same as mine, which is why I'm not going to name it now). His parents came over to the United States from Ireland and passed through Ellis Island. He was born in 1922, served in WWII and raised 7 children; two step-children and five of his own, one being my ex-husband. He was a kind, gentle and wise man and I loved him tremendously.

While I was married to my ex-husband, his mother hated me with a passion. She actively pursued ways to show me how much she despised me, as she did with each person - man or woman - who married one of her children. I was very young and shocked and confused by her unprovoked hatred. I was raised to respect adults, especially my elders, and was just idealistic enough to think I could turn it around, so for the first few years I never fought back. Through it all, there was Ed. He loved her immensely, but knew she was unfair in her treatment of me. He always let me know that he loved me and that I was a valued member of his family. He made dealing with her bearable. We shared the same twisted sense of humor and he knew it. When something happened at a family gathering that he knew I would find equally ridiculous, he would always catch my eye and give me a look that spoke volumes. It was as though only he and I knew how completely stupid a particular comment was. If someone said something that could have a silly double meaning, we agreed on those too, and with a look could have each other in stitches.

When my ex-husband was born, Ed was in his late 40's. He and my mother-in-law had married later in life, each with two children of their own, and decided to have a child together. What they got was triplets, one of them being my ex-husband. Unfortunately, he had smoked all of his life, and by the time his triplets were in their teens, his health had begun to fail. In the last few months of his life, he lived in an assisted living home after losing most of his lower limbs. His wife no longer felt equipped to care for him and even checked out emotionally. She lived a just few miles away, yet visited less then once a week. It killed me to think of him alone and I tried to visit him at least every other day. I knew my time with him was short. I tried to make his last few days as comfortable as possible, and I would bring him whatever he wanted, trying to repay him for the love and kindness he had always shown me, even when it was against his wife's wishes.

Ed passed away in September of 1995, at 73 years old. He was the proud father of seven children and at that time, grandfather to eleven. My oldest daughter was four years old and my youngest daughter was not yet a year old when he passed away. Sadly she never really knew her grandpa Ed. He was always so proud of being the child of immigrants and being able to fight for his country, and of raising and providing for his family.

If I had five more minutes with him, I would look him in the eye and thank him for being the model of fatherhood, marriage, love and fairness that he was to me and countless others. I would ask him to tell me one more story from his days as a Navy corpsman, and I would tell him I love him and miss him dearly.

Words I Wish I Wrote....5.11.06

2006-05-11T09:04:00.000-07:00

I'm a dreamer. Not one of those head in the clouds kind of dreamers, but someone who has vivid and lifelike dreams on a nightly basis. Sometimes they're scary and too vivid to shake when I wake up in the morning. Sometimes it takes me half the day to recover from a particularly sad dream and there's a dark cloud over most of my day when that happens. When the dream is really good and makes me happy, sometimes it's hard to wake up and realize that it never really happened.

There are things that I don't have the courage to dream about in real life because they're just too big. Fear keeps me from pursuing them and keeps me in the safety of this cocoon I've wrapped myself in. But sometimes I dream about them at night and for a few hours live the life I've always wanted, even if it's only while I sleep.

This is one of my favorites quotes...mostly because it's about dreaming big. Dreaming confidently. Making those dreams happen. In my dreams last night, all the best ones came true. My most secret and precious dreams were lived out and I got a taste for what life like that might be like. This morning I woke up determined not to be afraid of these dreams. I woke up with conviction to live my dreams out loud. To move confidently in their direction because living them for a only a few hours a night is no longer good enough for me...like Thoreau, I don't want to die having never really lived.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived...I learned this at least from my experiment...that if one advances confidently in the directions of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."
~Henry David Thoreau

My Pride and Joy...

2006-05-02T23:05:00.000-07:00

My 15 year old daughter is beautiful. She's also incredibly intelligent. She was in the 'gifted' classes in elementary school, honors programs in Jr. High and made the honor roll all through 8th grade. Then she hit high school - she's now a Freshman - and everything changed. Her grades tanked. To put into perspective how badly her grades tanked, consider this scenario and the extreme parental reaction...
She plays volleyball. Not only on her high school team, but on an off season club team. She's very very good - only 5'5" but she's an outside hitter and although I'm her mother, let me just say...she kicks ass. Her club team won Nationals in their division last year, greatly in part to my daughter's hitting ability. She was chosen again this year for the Nationals team. Her grades, however, sucked. Her father and I decided to not let her go to Nationals (after plenty of warning about the grades). It was the hardest decision I've made as a parent, but her grades really suck that bad right now. I don't know why such an intelligent girl would let something so important slip so far, but she has. I realize it's an age thing. She's 15 - a little bit of this is to be expected, right? But then every once in awhile, I wonder if kids this age just lose knowledge and commen sense on an exponential level. She does have this uncanny knack for song lyrics. It's amazing, actually. She can hear a song just once and sing every single word the very next time she hears it. I've pointed it out to her many times.

This conversation actually took place between us the other day...

(By the way, she is loudly singing a song she is hearing for the second time)

Daughter: That's such waste of memory.
Me: What is?
D: The fact that I can remember song lyrics and nothing else, like what I need for school. I mean, why can't I remember science facts instead of song lyrics?
M: Maybe you put more value on the lyrics (She looks confused). I've seen you look up song lyrics on the internet. Maybe you should look up more important things, like what you study in your science class. (And then sarcastically, I add...) Maybe you should look up Nuclear Fusion.

And in all seriousness, my beautiful and gifted 15 year old daughter turned to me and said...

"Is that a lipgloss?"

Monday Memories 05.01.06

2006-05-01T06:41:00.000-07:00

Today my daughter asked me about my first date with her father. Although we're divorced, we're good friends and the memory is a great one. When I first met him, I was with my friend Kris who had a pretty strong crush on him. I even tried to set them up, thinking I was doing her a favor. The first time I laid eyes on him, I thought I would never go out with someone who looked like him. You see, back in the day he was an extremely handsome young man. So much so that in our younger years, even other men would come to me and say, "Wow Steph. Your husband is a good looking man!" I assumed that someone who looked as good as he did would be cocky and shallow. I can see so clearly how he looked back then.
I was supposed to have a date with his twin brother (actually, his triplet brother - they also have a triplet sister). But when his brother came to see me in San Diego (where I was in college at the time), he brought him with him and as they say...the rest is history. His brother didn't care that we hit it off so well, in fact he was engaged to someone else and had plans to cheat on her by coming to see me. Obviously I had no guilt about liking his brother. My friend Kris knew we had a strong connection and encouraged me to go out with him - she was later a bridesmaid in our wedding. :)
I remember him walking into the room on that night, and as soon as we saw each other, we were inseparable. He asked me out for later in the week and he again came to San Diego. I had a convertible and offered to drive. I wanted to show him the best of San Diego and took him to La Jolla with the top down. We went to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch - this was 1989, so that was still a novelty. Since I drove, he had just taken some money out of his wallet and gotten in my car, leaving his wallet in his truck. During lunch I learned that the person I assumed was stuck up was actually so down to earth. He told me about his family with seven kids (!), and his bond with them was touching. He was the exact opposite of what I expected just by looking at him. At the end of lunch, it turned out that he hadn't taken enough money out of his wallet to pay for lunch. He had to admit that he didn't have enough money (and had also left his credit cards in his wallet back at my house) so I left him at the restaurant while I ran around La Jolla looking for an ATM so we could pay for lunch. How embarrassing that must have been for him! But he handled it with class and humor. We then went to another restaurant/bar where we had some margaritas and then I took him to the cliffs in Solana Beach - the best place in San Diego County to watch the sunset. After that we were inseparable. He lived in Orange County, where we both grew up, so he was an hour away, but every night from then on he drove to San Diego after work. We were married a year and a half later.
Even though we're divorced now, for a variety of reasons, we both look back on those days with fondness. We were very young - only 22 - and stupid. We had no idea what it took to have a successful marriage. Neither one of us had seen a good model of marriage growing up. But mostly we look back in fondness because we know we were madly in love. Yes, we know the beauty that came from our marriage - I'm convinced that we never regret that which leads to the birth of our children - but it was more than that. It was young love and idealism at it's finest.
We've grown up so much since then. We've been apart for almost ten years, he's married to someone else (who is exponentially a better fit for him than I ever was), and we still maintain love and respect for each other that allows us nothing but sweet memories.

Words I Wish I Wrote...

2006-04-26T10:48:00.000-07:00

Many years ago I bought a book called Words I Wish I Wrote by Robert Fulgham. You might know him from his "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten" essay. The book was filled with quotes, song lyrics, even Scriptures that particularly moved him. I fell in love with the idea and several years ago started my own. One of my favorites is the quote at the top of my blog.

My friend John particularly appreciated mine, so one year for his birthday I got him started on his own copy, leaving all but a couple of the pages blank, ready to be filled with his own version of words he wished he wrote (and by the way, if you would like to be lifted up, read his incredible post called "The Night Is Young And So Is She").

I am so blessed by the wisdom and humor of others and I decided to share a little of it on my blog. So here's the first installment of Words I Wish I Wrote, by Steph....

I love this quote, because it really reminds me of myself!

"I must learn to love the fool in me - the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries"
~Theodore Isaac Rubin

I suck.

2006-04-24T09:12:00.000-07:00

You know how on my kids birthdays every year I wake them up at the exact time they were born and tell them the story of how the day started, the trip to the hospital, who was there, how excited we were, all that stuff? Yeah, well apparently I've been getting my younger daughter's time wrong for 11 years now. Ironically, it's my older daughter that could really give a rip about it, but the little one loves it. It's so important to her that on her birthday this year she asked me over and over, "Does daddy know what time I was born?" And she had tears in her eyes, anticipating the answer to be no. I said, "Of course he does - 7:23 AM - he was there too, and he would never forget such an incredible moment!" Then I went and hid somewhere while I called my ex-husband and told him exactly what time to call her in the morning, because of course he had no clue.

So this morning, we're driving in the car and she takes a copy of her birth certificate out of my purse to look at it. I'm carrying it around because I need to turn it in to her soccer club this afternoon. She looked at it and made a joke like, "Oh good. I was born." I glanced over at the birth certificate and in the upper right hand corner is the time she was born. 8:05 AM. Nice. So of course, I distracted her by pointing to her dad's signature and took it out of her hands, saying something like, "What?! I gave birth to you and they didn't even let me sign your birth certificate?!" And with that I folded it up, put it back in my purse and moved on, essentially delaying the moment when she discovers that our 7:23 AM birthday memories have all been a sham! Parenting at it's best.

If you don't hear from me in a week...

2006-04-19T23:31:00.000-07:00

...check the back of your milk carton.

I've had a completely surreal experience that I'm still sort of reeling from. I had a date - two dates to be exact. That's not the surreal part. It's the aftermath. I went out with someone last week and again over the weekend. I wasn't really crazy about him, although his first impression last week was pretty good. I spoke to him about 5 or 6 times before we went out. Unfortunately, before our first date, I had also made plans with him for Saturday night - trust me, I know that was my biggest mistake. By Saturday, I knew I had no interest in dating him again. Apparently he had other ideas. After the first date he sent me a poem. I'm not really into people I don't know writing me creepy, stalker-like poems. After the second date, he wrote me another one - this one about the "Embodiment of a Woman" in which he said was describing me. It was just really creepy. The same day, he sent me our "Zodiac Compatibility." He continued to creep me out. Really bad.
He was what my friends and I refer to as a "man-bitch" - although he's male, he turned out to be effeminate and catty, not to mention he walked like a girl. I decided not to see him again. That's when the creepy voicemails, IM's, and e-mails began - all culminating in the following e-mail. I'm amazed and disturbed by the amount of time and effort put into insulting me by someone who barely knows me. Prior to this I had asked him not to contact me any more, because I had at least ten voicemails, e-mails, instant messages, etc. that were all psychotic, just in 24 hours. As you read this, keep in mind...TWO DATES!!! (Trust me, the e-mail is way too long to be rational, so if you can't hang for the whole thing...I totally understand!)...

P.S. He says he's currently writing the 7th chapter of his book on relationships. God help us all if it ever gets published.

(By the way, someone anonymously asked in my comments what happened on Saturday that turned things bad and what his e-mail comments were which he refers to. The e-mails were the ones I mentioned about the poem and the zodiac compatibility, I received both of those on Sunday. I didn't acknowledge them because if I had, it would have been to say that writing a poem filled with the things that this one said, AND writing a page on the zodiac compatibility of two people who barely know each other is beyond creepy (Oh, I almost forgot - the poem even mentioned the brand of lingerie he fantasized me wearing). Sure fire way to make someone think you're a stalker.
Saturday night, he came to pick me up to watch the UFC fights at my friend's house. When he entered my house (a half an hour late), he walked past me into the living room, dining room, and then into the kitchen, basically giving himself his own little tour of my house, and proceeded to critique the entire thing - furniture, pictures, the layout, etc. He knows the previous owner built the cabinets and countertops and he actually tried to shake them to see if they were sturdy and then he said what he thought they did wrong with them. Meanwhile, I'm still standing in the foyer in shock. I already thought he was cocky by nature, but that clinched it. He asked me what was wrong and I told him the truth - that walking in my house without being invited and critiquing it the way he did was really cocky. So...anonymous commenter...there you go)

Here's the e-mail in it's entirety...

"As in life, we rarely get what we want but often get what we deserve....which is why you are receiving this email from me now. I woke this morning totally pissed that I actually spent time trying to get you to "reconsider". My fear all day was that you would actually email me telling me you would like to talk. I sit here very relieved at the fact that I am not investing any more time into someone who frankly isn't nearly as "enlightened" and perfect as she thinks. In fact, whatever demons you are dealing with that cause you to be so "guarded" and quick to pass judgment are still clearly a part of your life. What I won't EVER do is spend time with a hypocrite. Nothing is more frustrating than dealing with someone who is reads SO MUCH into the actions of others but fails to hold herself to the same "standard". Because of your obvious HYPER-SENSITIVITY, you totally TOTALLY MIS-READ my actions on Saturday night....THEN allowed your mis-interpretation to impact (negatively) our time together. THEN, instead of sharing, I had to pull it out of you. THEN you just level me with a comment that totally doesn't apply. Instead of reacting in the manner which you have over these past 24 hours, I took the more mature and patient route with you than you ever extended to me at any point over the last 24 hours. Totally pathetic and immature.....especially for someone who claims to have her act "together".

The fact you didn't even comment on my emails on Sunday afternoon was rude and insensitive. Again....2 things you CLAIMED you weren't but your actions showed differently.

The fact you feel I made myself appear "pretty healthy" is true. It's because I am Stephanie. I am the kind of man who judges people (and sets expectations) based on their past behavior. Past interaction and behavior is the best indicator or future behavior. When I talk to you each night for 3 weeks in a row.....when you NEVER let my calls go to voicemail (maybe 2-3 times)...then suddenly, within a day of inappropriately being told I was "cocky", I start to receive this sort of attitude from you (who shows NO responsibility or apologies for your rude comments about me on Sat). You also showed NO appreciation for the emails that I sent on Sunday...which just added more fuel to this fire. What just blew me away even more was the fact you IGNORED my requets on Sunday to talk (instead you kept on IM). THEN you took a "bath"....making me wait another 45 mins!!!!! How f-n rude can you be in one day? I don't care if I know someone 1 hour or 10 years.....I NEVER make them wait (or ignore them) the way you did me (a man who was simply trying to make up for the night before and keep your attention). My intentions and interest (AT THE TIME) were genuine and sincere. I assure you....fyour ability to turn someone so cold to you so quickly is unparalleled.

I am not sure if it is a defensive mechanism in you...or if you really believe it...but this whole attitude you project is so inaccurate and unfair to anyone who is fooled by it as I was. I am sure you believe you are a good person....and I still believe that myself. It's just you have a very selfish streak to you that blows me away. It reveals itself in so many of our discussions and areas in your life....and is the biggest aspect of your personality that I knew I would have a hard time dealing with. You are very much a "me" oriented person....and frankly the list of "Mr. Wrongs" you are going to date moviing forward seems very long. Any quality man would appreciate the numerous qualities you have to offer him...however his patience with a dominant selfish aspect of your personality will send him running.

Your limited perspective has resulted in a much needed and appreciated push. I actually feel good about the fact you and I didn't have the chance to spend more time together.....because you would then have to deal with knowing just how big of a loss this is for you. Right now....it's easier for you to simply believe I am some jerk.....but I am comforted KNOWING that you just lost an incredible opportunity to have something that only comes by once in a lifetime (at this "level"). I am sure you will find "some guy"...who will treat you just well enough to keep you. Then you both can hang out and watch the fights with the kind of people who talk and act the way your "friends" did on Saturday. While they are nice....they are NOT the kind of people who I would ever allow my kids around or be around myself too often. Those sort of people are a everywhere. Well-intentioned, ignorant simple people who bring no real VALUE (other than a moderate "entertainment" factor") into the lives of those who call them friends. Don't get me wrong...they are very nice...and can be funny. But the exposure to that sort of behavior and conversation is just not healthy. I want more for myself and my family. I expect more of myself (and whomever is in my life). If that means staying home and watching a movie alone versus going out and associating with people who have so little respect for themselves and each other (including their own kid) then I will stay home.

I tried to think about "why" we met...and I realize it was so that I would have this opportunity to make certain you had someone tell you this. You are an incredible woman with many great qualities to you. I know. However....how YOU responded to me and my actions these past 2 days is so clearly a reflection of how you handle things in life. This was a very ridiculous and small issue that should never have had a life of more than 5 mins on a phone call between us. Yet, your continued reaction to my WRITTEN WORD (instead of spoken word) is what put us here.

YOU SAID IT YOURSELF.....IM IS A BAD THING BECAUSE OF HOW THINGS ARE INTEREPRETTED. YET YOU CONTINUED TO DEFER TO EMAIL INSTEAD OF TALKING....AND AS A RESULT, YOU READ INTO MY COMMENTS THINGS THAT WERE NOT INTENDED. I have a writing style....that you obviously don't understand or cannot read without seeing things as "passive aggressive". I assure you had you just called....ONCE....this NEVER would have happened. So YES...I AM putting the majority of this on your shoulders....because you have been doing it to me for 2.5 days now and it isn't fair or accurate.

How self-absorbed of you. Good luck....you are going to need it.

Sorry you don't feel like "re-hashing" this. I could see why not. I mean...to expose yourself to being shown just how big of a role you played in this would be daunting.

I am so totally disgusted by your actions and immaturity. ANYONE who was sincere and mature would have called to talk. Instead...you chose the cowardly way of email to communicate....and because of it, things were said and mis-interpreted on your part that should not have been.

Hey...you always have the guy across the hall from you. I am sure he is up to getting back with you. In fact....aren't ALL the guys you dated wanting to get back with you? Rest assured.....your streak of men regretting ever losing you in a relationship has ended with me. You will NOT be someone I ever look back on and think "gee, maybe I should have done more" or "boy did I screw up".

See you around during footballl season!!! "

Easter Love...

2006-04-17T14:57:00.000-07:00

My daughters were gone for Easter yesterday. The older one was in Palm Springs with her best friend and the little one spent the weekend at her dad's house. So it was just me and I missed them so much! I went to my friend Michelle's house for brunch, which ended up lasting longer than any brunch I've ever been to, but we had a great day! Then I went to church with my mom and made her dinner.
Being a single woman amongst a world full of married friends is interesting. There's always some time during every holiday where my girls are at their dad's, so my closest friends get on this little network where they feel like they have to make sure I have plans. It makes me feel slightly pathetic but I absolutely love them for it! I can hear the conversation now...one calls up another and says, "Hey, take Steph for Easter this year, I took her for Christmas." I know they really want me there and always try to talk me into staying longer. I love them so much for caring about my holidays, and sharing theirs with me.
While I was finishing up brunch, I checked my cell phone and saw that each of my daughters had texted me. Yup, me...the non texter - who just about broke down when I saw the text messages from my lovely little girls on Easter. My older daughter is now 15 (yes, her birthday came and went about two weeks ago and I'm officially old!) and she is my sweetie, but definitely as self-centered as a 15 year old girl can be right now. But she took the time out of her day to send me and her sister a text. This is what it said..."Happy Easter!! Love you guys!! I'll call you later :)" And just when I start feeling all warm and fuzzy, I read on..."Oh and mom can i possibly go to the movies tom night? we're coming home tom morning. <3" Yup - that's my girl! And her sister responded with..."Hi! Happy Easter! I love u!"
I can't tell you how incredibly happy it made me to know that both of my daughters thought of me and each other on a holiday apart. There are so many female hormones flying around my house with the three of us, a female dog and a female cat, that you'd think we would all pull each other's hair out (yeah, we've come close), but what a lucky mom I am that there's also so much love.

"Another One Bites the Dust...Hey! Hey!"

2006-04-05T15:04:00.000-07:00

I just saw Queen on Monday night! Yes!!! I know this dates me! I don't even care - it was one of the greatest concerts ever! "How does Queen manage to put on a concert without Freddy Mercury?" you may be wondering. By getting Paul Rogers - formerly of Bad Company - to fill in. He was awesome!! It was a combination of Queen songs and Bad Company, and a total flashback night for me. And by the way, I'm pretty sure Paul Rogers wants to marry me. Yeah, so he's short and old - so am I!

I went with my friend Chera, who is a great time even on a slow night! We had a BLAST!! We even bought cheesy tie-dyed T-Shirts in the parking lot with old pictures of Freddy Mercury on them (which we know we'll never wear, but that's okay!). We sang at the top of our lungs and drunk-dialed all of our Queen-fan friends during their favorite songs!

On the way to the concert, my friend Kirk called and stayed on the phone with us for awhile while we were on our way. Even the ride up was a blast. Before he hung up, he said that if we drank too much and couldn't drive home, to call him and he would come pick us up, which was a totally sweet offer. Then he told us to call him during "Another One Bites the Dust" his favorite Queen song. He hung up saying, "Remember...call me if you need anything!" So when they played that song toward the end of the concert, we called him up so he could hear it and then I said, "Hey Kirk! You know how you said to call you if we needed anything. Well, we REALLY need another beer, but we don't want to miss this song. Could you work that out for us, sweetie? Thanks!"

In the spirit of Paul Rogers wanting to marry me, I've created a little short film depicting our first encounter. The part I'm most stoked about is that I found an actress who looks exactly like me. Check it out...

A Match Made in Heaven

"I See Stupid People..."

2006-04-03T08:59:00.000-07:00

On a Saturday before Christmas, my two daughters and I went shopping at Costco. I'm not sure if Costco is a nationwide chain, so if you don't know what it is, think mega-warehouse where they sell everything in bulk, for a lot cheaper than the grocery store, sporting goods store, hardware store...you name it.
When we pulled into a parking space, I turned off my car, turned to my girls and said, "Get ready. We're about to enter Costco on a Saturday before Christmas. Every stupid person in Southern California is within those four walls this very minute. Don't be scared. Don't be frustrated. Just be ready." In an attempt to preserve our sanity, we decided to make a game of it and count stupid people. Whenever we walked by someone blocking an entire aisle with their oversized cart just waiting to get a sliver of a Bagel Bite sample, we would yell over our shoulder, "NUMBER 1!!" If an entire family of stupid people rammed their cart into us and then just stood there blocking our way for longer than two minutes, we would yell, "NUMBERS 3 through 6!!" Eventually, my girls ditched me to look at DVDs. A few minutes later, I heard a voice from the opposite end of an aisle yell, "NUMBER 7!!!," and I turned to see my oldest daughter trapped between a shopping cart and a wall of hair products, while she was trying to get to me. The shopping cart was actually pressed right up against her stomach pinning her in place, and the person behind it wasn't moving!
Later, when my younger daughter was pushing the cart she said, "I just found Number 12, and Boo (her sister) is in serious danger of becoming Number 13." Now when we're in any crowded place, we know we'll automatically play the stupid person game. We walk through the gates of Disneyland, or anywhere else there are big crowds, and almost immediately get started with, "NUMBER 1!! And NUMBER 2 for the idiot who just sneezed into the back of my head!"

Not long after that day at Costco, I was walking into my living room where my daughters were sitting and I tripped, barely catching myself from falling. Without even looking up, my oldest daughter quietly said, "Number 17." :)

Monday Memories 3.28.06

2006-03-27T10:29:00.000-08:00

When I was 14 and a freshman in high school, I went to the movies one night with my girlfriends. While I was there I met a junior from another high school named Jeff Burgess (yeah, I'm naming names. In case anyone knows him, feel free to kick his ass). It was 'love at first sight!' He was older, sooo good looking, charming, and seemed to like me. You have to understand that I was very much the ugly duckling when I was younger. I was not a pretty girl in high school. I never got asked out on dates or to dances, and I was very insecure and shy. I know, I know...Those of you who know me personally are thinking there's no way I was ever shy. But I was. Painfully shy and insecure.
Anyway, I gave Jeff my phone number and following that night we started talking on the phone every night. I really liked him and he seemed to like me too. It was the end of May and he asked me to his high school's prom. For a little ugly duckling like me, this was a dream come true! I was one of those girls who had every issue of Teen magazine and tried to copy the hairstyles and make-up tips. I so badly wanted to be liked, and now I thought I was, and by a junior!! I was in heaven! Jeff called to say that he talked his mom into getting us a limo and he made reservations at a nice restaurant. I told all of my friends (most of whom had already met him the same night at the movies), and they could not believe my good luck to be asked to the prom by this boy! My mom took me shopping for a dress, shoes, and all the accessories and I could not wait! The night of the prom, it must have taken me five hours to get ready, three of those spent on my hair. And then I waited for Jeff to pick me up.
And waited.
And waited.
I could tell by the look on my mom's face that she had already realized what I was not yet willing to accept. I had been stood up for a prom. He never even called.
I finally gave up, took off my dress and put my robe on, trying to be brave about it and not cry. My sister and I both worked at the nearby movie theater at the time and my sister was working that night. My mom called my sister Jennifer at work without me knowing it and my sister sent one of her friends from work to pick me up and bring me to the movies and hang out with her while she was working. When I got there, she was behind the concession stand selling popcorn and she handed me something over the counter. It was a box from Hubbub (a very cool store in the mall) and inside was a little purple top - just a little present to cheer me up. She was only 15 years old, yet so sweet and sensitive to her little sister's feelings. Love between sisters is stronger than anything else on earth and my sister embodies that.

Good looking junior or not, Jeff Burgess turned out to be a major loser. Something really random must have triggered this memory for me, because I haven't thought of it in at least a decade. But my sister, now that's another story. She took what could have been a humiliating and devastating situation and made me feel loved and secure. She still does to this day.

Text Messages From Hell...

2006-03-22T14:22:00.000-08:00

I am not a texter. Never have been. Don't think I ever will be. Not even if I had one of those cool phones with a keyboard built in like my daughters. I don't mind receiving text messages. In fact, most of the time the funny ones make me laugh. But don't expect me to return it. I might even forward the occasional funny text. Recently my friend received a text that said, "Hey, the Irvine police just found a naked body with bad teeth and a really small penis. Just making sure you're okay. Call me." Now that's funny. I forwarded that one to several of my male friends. (By the way, John, that was a particularly funny text about Mary Tyler Moore this morning! :)
When my friends text me a funny story or my daughters text me to say they'll be home at 5 PM, okay. But don't text me and say, "Whatcha doing?" No. I'm not answering. You've already dialed my number, just hit SEND!!! Call me and have a conversation, damn it!
So what is prompting this tirade on texting? There's this young man named Mike. I met Mike through a mutual friend and we've all had drinks together several times. Mike's a very nice guy who unfortunately took quite a liking to me in spite of the fact that I'm 10 years older than him. 10 YEARS! It's not gonna happen! But Mike gets my number from my friend and has been texting me for awhile now. I've said multiple times that there's no way I'm going out with him, but I have seen him since then with our friends. I think he's counting on wearing me down, but I can't go there (in spite of what you may have read about me here). Anyway, he texts me continually even though I've told him I don't like to text and I probably won't respond. He continues to text with questions that require a response and I just end up looking rude when I don't respond. He also keeps asking if I want to get together, just for coffee or something. If we were friends that would be fine, but that's not his intention. Here is how the texting went this morning...

Mike: "Good morning cutie" (Yeah. He's in diapers and calling me cutie.)
Steph: "Hey."
Mike: "Want to get coffee this morning?"
Steph: "No, I can't. I'm already at work and I'm swamped."
Mike: "I get the feeling you're not interested. Am I wrong?"
Steph: "MIKE! I'm sorry, I can't have a conversation by texting. It drives me crazy and it's so one-dimensional. Call me later if you want to have a real conversation."

Of course, that whole last text WAS a conversation - the kind that drive me insane!! I'm sure I won't be hearing from Young Mike anymore, so at least I won't have to explain again why I can't date a man in his 20's.

Am I over-reacting? Does this drive anyone else crazy? Am I just really old?

**By the way.....Tune into American Idol tonight to see none other than the legendary BARRY MANILOW sing live from Las Vegas!!!! :)
Whoo-Hoo!!

Monday Memories...3.13.06

2006-03-13T06:28:00.000-08:00

When my littlest girl was 3 1/2, she swam with water wings. She's such a stud now that it's hard to imagine how she ever needed assistance, but she was pretty cute in her little Shamu wings. She would even go into the deep end at 3 years old.
If you know her, you know what a thrill seeker she is. I'm in total awe of her, seriously. She is now 11 years old, and a total stud. She can do everything she wants. Everything. And she does it with confidence.
Back to the water wings...One day we were swimming in a community pool. A friend of mine named Robert and I were in the shallow end just sort of cooling off while the girls were swimming around. Julianne (my little one) was in about three feet of water (well above her head), and asked if she could take off the water wings. I said okay, as long as she stayed up against the wall - you know how little kids who can't touch grip the wall as though their lives depend on it? Well, there she was - gripping the wall with no water wings. She had taken them off and thrown them on the concrete on the side of the pool. So as Robert and I stood watching her, all of a sudden she pushed off the wall, aiming for the stairs twenty feet a way. Robert and I lunged at her, I swear it was in slow motion, as we yelled, "Nini!!!!!!!" (Her nickname), the whole time thinking were going to pull a drowning child out of the pool. This little girl who couldn't swim without water wings a day before, all of a sudden broke out in the Little Mermaid like swimming stroke, with her arms by her side, her face under water, and her feet kicking furiously, until she made it to the stairs. When Robert and I realized that she knew what she was doing, we backed off and let her swim. She stood up on the stairs, turned and looked over her shoulder at us with the strongest look of self-satisfaction, mixed with a little bit of awe and a lot of surprise. So cute!! By then the whole crowd around the pool noticed what happened and were cheering her on!
We spent the next hour practicing her new found swimming skills with her - with the pool crowd continuing to cheer her on. We stood 10-15 feet away from the wall while she pushed off of us and mastered her skills. After about an hour, she got tired of swimming and decided to get out. She hiked herself up on the wall and out of the pool, passing the water wings on the concrete next to her. She turned and looked over shoulder, and then my little three-year-old proudly yelled, "FWO DOS WATTA WINGS AWAY!!!!"

Life Lesson #529

2006-03-07T19:33:00.000-08:00

Never give a drunk girl cocktail umbrellas.

(Just a brief synopsis of my recent trip to the Bahamas)

Hi. My Name is Steph...and I am a Coupon Whore.

2006-02-21T13:08:00.000-08:00

There's got to be a 12 step program for me somewhere. When I go to the grocery store, I pride myself on the fact that I can get at least $30 taken off my bill by clipping coupons. I never buy anything I don't need, but I have figured out that the coupons that come out in the current Sunday paper are the same things that Ralph's discounts for that week, so using the coupon that week is key. I know what you're thinking, but don't be jealous. I know you wish you were as clever as me and had my exciting life. You can!
It's not just grocery store coupons, but every kind of store. Let me give you an example...today I checked the mail. I had easily a week's worth of mail in there. Being a new homeowner, I've been bombarded with discounts on shutters, landscaping, lighting, closets, etc. I look at every one, tossing the ones I know I'll never use. Today was the best! Not only did I have a cool IKEA coupon for $20 off a purchase of $100 or more, but I got this other coupon for my local pharmacy. All I have to is transfer a prescription to get a $20 gift card! I'm on it! This was the best of all...a place called BevMo, Beverages and More, whose slogan is "You can't go wrong!" No kidding! It's a coupon for $10 off a purchase of $30 or more. Whoo-hoo! And on the coupon is a picture of SKYY Vodka, the most important ingredient in my killer apple martinis. On the back of the flyer was a picture of a bottle of expensive champage and a couple of glasses and it said, "You're surrounded by boxes - you deserve a drink!" My thoughts exactly!! :)
I got another catalog with home furnishings where I ordered a new set of pots and pans and a toaster to match my new kitchen decor. I had two separate discounts, so I ordered them separately to get both. So I saved $20 instead of 10. I'm telling you - I'm cheap!
So in the morning, I'm off to BevMo to check out what they've got! I can't wait!

Monday Memories 2.13.06

2006-02-13T12:23:00.000-08:00

Saturday was my daughter's Winter Formal. Her first, since she's a freshman. What a beauty, huh? Of course I had my emotional, sentimental moments when I saw how pretty and grown up she is. And I must add...in my objective and unprejudiced opinion, my daughter was by far the most beautiful and graceful girl there. :)
What was cute is that I went by myself to the lake to take pictures although I can think of a few people who wished they could have gone with me. I didn't want to embarrass her by bringing an entourage with cameras. When we got there and met her date, he brought both his parents, his grandfather, his older brother and his brother's girlfriend! His grandfather kept coming up to me and picking up my hand saying, "Oh my goodness...she is beautiful!" He took the words right out of my mouth.
He was such a sweetheart, as was the rest of his family.

It was a girl ask guy dance, so we took care of everything financially...

Dress, shoes, purse, jewelry..............$175.00
Ticket to get into the dance..............$110.00
Limo and dinner for two................... $80.00
Boutonniere for her date...................$11.00
Manicure/Pedicure/Hair/Make-up............$100.00

My baby's memories of her first formal....PRICELESS

>

The Depravity of Today's Youth

2006-02-08T09:59:00.000-08:00

My daughter has a friend named Alex, the nicest 13 year old boy I have ever met. He's really close to not only my older daughter but the younger one as well and we all look for excuses to have Alex come over. Last year, we bought him his own Steeler jersey and dragged him to the Steeler bar with us to cheer them on, and he's been going with us ever since (of course, this year was absolutely insane). The kid is just a good sport, he's very respectful and fun, and puts up with my hormomal daughter better than anyone else can.
Three weeks ago, before the Steeler game against the Broncos, we picked Alex up on the way to the Steeler bar. (Side note: for those of you who might be thinking, "Wait a minute. Steph is actually taking her children to a bar?!" Let me remind you that it's a Steeler bar, thank you very much, and I've been a die hard Steeler fan for a long time, so I think raising my children to get behind a team, stick with it, cheer them on through good times and bad - well that's just good parenting!! :) Anyway, I digress...so we're on our way to the bar and we stop by to get Alex. We get into a pretty bland conversation about what he had been doing all weekend when he tells us that he went to the movies the night before. He and his friends were so bored with the movie that they left early. How bad does a movie have to suck to get a bunch of 13 year old boys to leave? All they do is screw around in there anyway. So he goes on to tell us that out of sheer boredom they went into the pet store next door and decided to buy a bunch of Mexican Fighting Fish, and a few harmless little goldfish, to throw in the fountain outside and see what would happen. Am I the only one who finds this hysterical? If my daughter came home with that story, I couldn't even be mad, I would just be impressed with her creativity. So to continue the story, Alex said that when they were inside the pet store, the woman behind the counter wouldn't sell them the fish because she said they were fighting fish, they were dangerous to other fish (duh),and she wouldn't sell them to the boys because they were under 18. So they went outside and stopped the first customer to walk in the pet store and asked him to buy them the Mexican Fighting Fish. I stopped him at that point, laughing hysterically and yelled, "You pimped fish!!!" How funny is that?! I can see it now...Alex and his friends standing outside the pet store, saying something like this..."Psst...Dude. Can you score us a couple of fighting fish while you're in there? Here's an extra five-spot if you do." Ha! I love that kid.

Monday Memories...1.30.06

2006-01-30T00:02:00.000-08:00

I think I'm going to get fired from this Monday Memories gig and it's only my second week. Last week I wrote about memories that have yet to happen, and today I'm writing about one that should have happened.

I just finished watching the Screen Actor's Guild Awards, and while there is so much I loved about the night (I'm a sucker for everything about awards shows), my favorite part was at the very end. Two words. Pierce Brosnan.

I love him.

I don't have celebrity crushes. Really. But him, yeah...I think he's perfect. I love him. I think he looks like someone drew him. I think he's perfect (am I being redundant? Because if I'm not, let me mention how much I love him). If I could piece together what my ideal man would look like, he would be Pierce Brosnan. I think he would love me too. I think we would be perfect together. I find it a total travesty that neither of my children was fathered by him. Did anyone else see him tonight - how gorgeous he looked in his tux when he presented the award to Reese Witherspoon? As soon as I heard the announcer say his name, I got up and stood two feet from my television so I could get the best unobstructed close-up view of the man who should have been my husband. When Reese walked to the stage, she got to kiss him! And he sweetly put his hand on her arm, because in his perfection I'm sure he's just really sweet that way. But then when she was all done, she just walked right by him and left the stage. Is she nuts?! She had Pierce Brosnan right there!!

Sadly and sickly, this is where my made up memory comes in. Since people are always looking for memorable moments on awards show, I would have planted the biggest, sloppiest, open-mouthed kiss on him and acted like it was no big deal at all - it's all in the name of art! It would be played year after year on SAG highlight shows, each time with him looking on, regretful that he married that trampy environmentalist with too many names (who by the way, I hear has a horrible facial twitch and poor oral hygiene). Following the show he would probably dial my number several times a day, hanging up after losing his nerve, knowing that he had let his soulmate slip through his fingers. A man in true anguish.

Pierce, if you're reading this (and I'm sure you are)...it's never too late for true love! Sure I might play hard to get for like an hour and a half, because a girl's got to have her pride, but remember..."you're my density!"

Monday Memories...1.23.06

2006-01-23T23:53:00.000-08:00

I joined the Monday Memories Club, which was started on a great website, that I would link you to if I could think clearly enough to link right now (I will do that shortly, I promise). Although Monday only has about an hour left, and I am exhausted, I wanted to get this down while I had it in my head. I came across the concept of Monday Memories and fell in love with it. What better way to honor the incredible people in my life, and my experiences. I've been so tired though lately, and hung up on a little silly graphic that I let Monday almost come and go without writing this post (Yes, I'm that anal that a little graphic can hang me up for that long).

Although I'm not writing about the memory that I originally intended, and it's a little early to be adding a twist to this new concept of Monday Memories, it is what is on my mind right now.

Today is my youngest daughter's 11th birthday. As some of you know, I wake my daughters up each year at exactly the time they were born, crawl into bed with them and re-tell the story of the day they were born. I usually end up getting very emotional about it every year! They used to love it, then they made fun of me for it, now they expect it and once again love it. So this morning, my 14 year old and I went into the little one's bedroom, laid down on either side of her and started her special day with stories of how glad we were that she entered the world, and our lives. Friday her dad and I took her snowboarding for her birthday, so today was pretty low-key. She went to school, I picked her up and brought her to my office (which she loves), let her choose the restaurant for dinner, picked up her best friend and then came home to open gifts (I only let my girls have a party every other year and this was an off year). She loved her presents and kissed me goodnight saying what a great day she had.

Even though it was a great day, that is not the focus of this Monday Memory. When my girls went to bed, I took a long bath in my new bathtub, then went downstairs to turn off the lights. I passed my girls rooms where I knew they were sound asleep and missed the days of when I could crawl into bed with them and sleep all night, listening to them breathing. I stopped doing that because I became too obsessed with the perfect night's sleep. I walked down my beautiful hand built wooden stairs, past the little black cat, the incorrigible puppy in her crate, and the brand new little Betta fish named Bono, and went in the kitchen to turn off the lights. While I was walking down the stairs, looking down into my living room and my new house, I flashed back to earlier in the night when we were in that very room with my daughter while she opened her presents. I thought about tonight and I thought about the future. I wondered what kind of memories I will have in this new house, as there will undoubtedly be more than I can imagine. Every Christmas yet to come, every Prom night, every birthday just like today. I wonder how many happy years we'll spend in this house, because although I bought this house intending to stay here forever, one never really knows. I wonder if this will be the house where my daughters' fondest memories will originate. I wonder if my daughters will feel relieved when they walk through the door after a brutal semester at college. I wonder if I've created enough traditions and memories to sustain them when they feel far away from home.

Our memories, for as long as we can remember, have been of just the three of us. Their dad and I have been apart for so long that neither one of them, or even I for that matter, can remember back to when we were together. So it's always been just us, and we've always been thankful for each other. Sometimes I worry about what memories they're missing because of that; if they will remember our family as being "incomplete." I don't think so, though. I think we've done alright for ourselves. And 20 Christmases from now, I think we'll look back, not on what was missing during these years together, but of the incredible love that we have for one another, the gratitude we now feel for finally having our "own space," and the incredible memories of birthdays just like today.

Whoo-Hoo!! I LOVE her!!!

2006-01-16T19:32:00.000-08:00

Check me out...I'm Katherine Hepburn.
I got this off of Jenni's site...

Katharine Hepburn
You scored 26% grit, 14% wit, 57% flair, and 21% class!

"You are the fabulously quirky and independent woman of character. You go your own way, follow your own drummer, take your own lead. You stand head and shoulders next to your partner, but you are perfectly willing and able to stand alone. Others might be more classically beautiful or conventionally woman-like, but you possess a more fundamental common sense and off-kilter charm, making interesting men fall at your feet. You can pick them up or leave them there as you see fit. You share the screen with the likes of Spencer Tracy and Cary Grant, thinking men who like strong women."

And of course this test is completely accurate! So many interesting men fall at my feet that it can sometimes get embarrassing. If you look at my percentages of different personality traits, I'm a bit of a mutt, but I just like to think of myself as 'well-rounded.'

To Preparation H or not to Preparation H...Now THAT is the question...

2006-01-09T11:27:00.000-08:00

I don't think Shakespeare would mind me borrowing his line for such an important topic, do you?

So I'm in Target yesterday and as I'm walking past an aisle in the Health & Beauty section, the Preparation H catches my eye. A little background on this should be that I'm turning 40 this year. Yes the big 4-0. I cannot tell you how much I'm hating it. I feel old. I'm getting wrinkles I never had before. I have under eye puffiness. Which brings me back to the Preparation H story. Ladies, you all know what I'm talking about, but does it work? That was my big dilemma while standing in the Health & Beauty section of Target yesterday. Well, that and having to explain to my 10 year old what one would usually use Preparation H for. For years it's been rumored that this stuff gets rid of bags under your eyes but I've never known anyone who actually tried it. I Googled it and got conflicting opinions. The makers of Preparation H say it doesn't work for this problem, but what are they going to say when thousands of women go blind from putting ass cream too close to their eyes and they have lawsuits on their hands? They have to make some disclaimer. I'm convinced that if it does work, they're keeping it quiet and marketing the exact same formula at Bloomingdale's for $75 an ounce. Being the pioneer that I am, YES I bought the Preparation H and am willing to share all of my under eye puffiness research. I even bought the colorless, odorless, soothing gel formula for maximum comfort. I'll keep you posted.

My results so far...

Day 1 - Nothing. I put it on three times in a two hour period last night and so far nothing. Woke up this morning with puffy eyes.

But I'm not giving up! What kind of a pioneer would I be? Where would the hundreds of thousands of women who currently read my blog (alright, maybe not hundreds of thousands) turn for this vital information if I give up now? Don't worry, ladies. I commit to putting ass cream on my face for at least two weeks and will keep you posted at the first sign of success.

Weirdness

2006-01-04T11:14:00.000-08:00

A little bit ago, Danika wrote a wierdlist where she had to name five weird things about herself. As I was reading it, I thought..."Wow, there are so many weird things about me, I could never narrow it down to five." So here's just one. Kind of weird, but really just twisted. And I have shamelessly taught my little girl (the 10 year-old) the twistedness of my personality, and now she is also just as twisted.
My older daughter is 14 and, although she IS a teenager, she's a bit of a goody-goody (well at least in this stage of my denial, I'm insisting that she is). If the story weren't somewhat implausible it wouldn't be funny. Anyway, the other night she asked if she could walk to Starbuck's with her friends, one particular friend named Michael who she is sort of digging right now. While she was gone, my little girl and I ran some errands, a couple of which were in the same shopping center as Starbuck's. We took a verrryyy slow drive past Starbuck's to see if we could spy on her a bit, like maybe they were sitting outside at a table? You never know. No luck. They must have been inside because we couldn't see them anywhere. The conversation that followed went like this...keep in mind that this conversation came out of our mouths without even thinking twice and neither one of us even cracked a smile. Sadly, this is the weirdness that just comes naturally to us...

Me: I don't see her. Do you see her?
J: Nope. (pause) She's probably inside making out with Michael.
Me: Yeah. Between bong hits.
J. Yeah.

My Christmas Card to You...

2005-12-24T17:25:00.000-08:00

This year is almost over. I don't know what it held for you, but for me it had not only the lowest points of my life, but in some ways the highest. As I write this, I'm at my ex-husband's house spending Christmas Eve with he and his wife, and her family. A little surreal, but makes me feel good that life goes on, love endures and the holidays are all about love.

Which is why I feel the need to write this very politically incorrect Christmas card. It seems to me that recognizing the true meaning of Christmas is out of fashion, so in my Christmas card to cyber-space, I need to go back to the basics.

Like I said, this year has been the highest and the lowest. I have no idea what next year holds, but I think it's going to be awesome. Can't be sure, but I just have a feeling.

This is what I DO know... I know that there is a God, a creator of this universe and everything in it, who loves me and loves each of you passing by this blog. I know that He doesn't care what we've done, who we've done it with, how hideous we've been or how much we've ignored Him in our lifetimes. He loves us unconditionally and has since before we were born. Regardless of your religion, your political beliefs or whatever else separates human beings, God does not care. Even if you do not love Him, He still loves you. For you parents...you know how much you love your kids? He loves them more. For those of you with hideous in-laws, even those with enemies...He loves them too, as much as He loves you. He models unconditional love and is the only one who truly can. Some of you may scoff at this very politically incorrect Christmas card, and that's okay. You may not believe in what I'm saying, and that's okay. I've never shoved my beliefs down anyone's throat and that isn't my intention now. Just wanted you to remember that no matter how alone you feel, you never are.

My prayer for the next year is that God blesses each one of you abundantly. That your life, and the lives of everyone you love and care for, is filled with peace, love and joy.

Merry Christmas.

My 10 Year-Old's Letter to Santa, Part II

2005-12-22T08:16:00.000-08:00

My little girl put a stocking up on the wall the other day to fill with letters to Santa that we write between now and Christmas. She's added one a day for several days, and this was her last one...she is priceless, and I'm a lucky mom.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

Dear Santa,

I am so glad you reached our house even though we moved! You can take a look around! It's awesome! My mommy is the best! And got it! I told you on my list but I was wondering if you could give my mommy a gift even though she is a mommy! She is the greatest mommy and really deserves it! Will you also fill her stocking? Hers is the one that looks just like mine but is hanging from the Y (as in the word J-O-Y). She loves candles, pictures, stuff that keeps you warm, shoes, a lot of things! Oh I forgot she also loves jewelry! I hope you have a Merry X-MAS! Thank you for everything!

I love you!

(Heart), Nini

Bastard

2005-12-15T23:12:00.000-08:00

He could have been a gracious winner, but instead he took the low road.

My 10-Year-Old's Letter to Santa...

2005-12-14T22:31:00.000-08:00

Santa,
This year can I please have........
1. Old Navy Shopping Cart saved in My Account under Fav's
2. Abercrombiekids Cart saved in Mommy's Favorites (with a heart instead of an apostrophe in "Mommy's")
3. (Crossed out) XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (I guess she changed her mind)
4. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
5. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
6. Creativity for Kids Soccer Memory Book Kit - Target
7. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (She's a little indecisive)
8. Fish - blue
9. Fish aquarium
10. Shells, plants, fish signs, things for my fish
11. Datamax - K2360 from Target
12. Limited Too Shopping Cart saved in Mommy's Favorites (Yes, another heart)
13. Nike running shoes

Love (actually another heart),
Neen (her nickname is Nini)

Dear Santa,
Thank you for all the other great gifts! You are awesome!

Love (heart),
Neen

THANK YOU 4 EVERYTHING!

......She told me she was making it easier on Santa this year by finding everything on the internet and bookmarking it. Yeah, she's that cute.

Pet Peeve #5...

2005-12-12T21:29:00.000-08:00

...Condescending people.

I got my house!! Yahoo! My loan went through at the rate I needed. My friend Todd made it happen and it's closing on Wednesday. I'm so excited!!

So here's my pet peeve...people who try to burst my bubble by being condescending. At least 95% of the people who I've told about my house have had the same reaction. Now remember, I live in a nice town; people who live here have money. Unless you're like me, however, and usually just squeaking by. But the houses around here are outrageously priced. My ex-husband has a beautiful home which goes for about a million bucks. My mom's house, the same house I grew up in right down the street, goes for about a million bucks. My house is not like that. In fact, it's a townhome meaning it's attached on the side. So whenever someone asks me about my house, how big it is and stuff, I describe how many bedrooms, bathrooms, give them the square footage, etc. and then I say, "It's a townhome, attached on the side." I figure not to mention that would be misleading because I'm definitely not buying one of those big detached homes that are so expensive. And almost every time, they respond with, "That's Okaaaaayyyyy.......!!!!!" Yeah. I know. They say it like it's really not okay, but since I can't afford anything else, then it's...well...okay. I'm really just so stoked and a little proud that as a single mom I can even afford to buy in this area. I seriously never thought I would be able to. The fact that my home is attached does not bother me at all, I'm just so excited to have it. But that reaction makes me feel like I didn't do good enough, like I'm settling.

I wonder if I just have baggage about this for some reason, like I'm overreacting to it. Maybe. But, jeez...enough already.

Oh well, I love my little attached house! :)

Life Lesson #452.......

2005-12-08T21:40:00.000-08:00

(If you missed the first 451, you haven't been paying attention.)

............Never, never, never, but NEVER burn your bridges.

I have this ex-boyfriend, my girls affectionately call him "the French Guy." Born and raised in Paris, out here for a few years, and yes - that romantic. We dated for a couple of years and he's an absolutely great guy. One of our biggest problems, however, was that we disagreed on the place of ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends in our lives (in my case, also an ex-husband). It drove him nuts that I'm friends with almost everyone I've ever dated. Not one or two dates, but if I spent any respectable amount of time with them, I'm still in touch with them today. And as far as my ex-husband goes...let's just say that just today, his wife and I bought Aerosmith tickets together so we could all go in February. Well, this sort of behavior drove the French Guy nuts. I attributed it to serious insecurity. My perspective is that if you care that much about a person, and invest a large amount of your life in them, how do you just cut them out of your life? Now, I'm not talking about everyone being friends right away; people get hurt and healing takes time. It took several years for my ex-husband's wife and I to become friends. But people grow, move on, heal. I feel that I have managed to end relationships with mutual respect, and the same qualities that attracted me to that person - their character, integrity, sense of humor, etc. - still exist in the friendships.
Okay.......all that to say this........I am in the process of buying a house. In fact, Escrow is supposed to close tomorrow. It's not going to. Hopefully next week, but I've hit a serious snag. Here's some background...As most of you know, I have recently gone from making no money to making a decent amount of money. So the first thing I thought was to buy a house (Okay, the first thing I did was buy a really bitchin' new car! But I digress...). This house was way out of my price range six months ago. In fact, a hut in Haiti was way out of my price range six months ago. So when my very good friend Scot (one T), who is a real estate agent, started talking to me about buying a house, I started considering that I could truly afford it - and I can. I found a house that I fell absolutely IN LOVE with. I wanted to put an offer down so who was the first person I called? YES - an ex-boyfriend named Todd. Todd and I dated for six years. Six years! From the time we were 16 until we were 22. That's not just dating - that's growing up together. We both know it. Those were some formative years. We've been friends since we were 13 years old and we both know how significant that is. When we were together, everyone including us thought we would get married someday. Our families were intertwined. When we broke up, I got married within a couple of years, but he waited until we were in our 30's and of course I was there. At his wedding, his grandparents still insisted I sit with them. Todd is married to someone who is absolutely perfect for him, but we both realize the importance and the impact that our relationship had on our lives. The only lull in our friendship was during the two years I dated the jealous French Guy, and I'm sorry I allowed his insecurity to take me out of Todd's life while his kids were being born.
Well, Todd is now the president of his own mortgage lending company, or whatever you call it. He has several branches throughout California (we always knew he'd be extremely successful), so of course I called him immediately. The conversation was really cool and I learned a lot about loans, but the most significant thing he said was, "Don't worry, Steph. I'll make sure no one makes any money off of you." Music to my ears. Really, it's the only reason I'm able to afford this house. I'm squeaking by as it is, and having to pay points or a higher interest rate would break the deal. If this thing actually goes through, I owe him big. Since I can't prove my income for more than a few months (and since a stated income loan will take the mortgage payment right out of my price range), he's calling in favors like you wouldn't believe. He's so well off he's been able to retire for years, and he's got a beautiful wife at home and two babies, yet he was at work last night until 7 PM trying to talk the president of a bank into taking my loan as is, convincing him that I'm not a risk. So I'm back in the game, when I thought it was over. I owe it all to Todd. I'm not glad he's in my life because of what he can do for me. I'm glad he's in my life because I have a friend that cares enough about me to fight for me.

P.S. The French Guy and I broke up two years ago and for the first time in his life, he's GREAT friends with an ex-girlfriend!

P.S.S. If anyone feels the urge to send out a prayer or two for my new house - it would be greatly appreciated!! :)

Skanky Halloween Bash Follow-Up...

2005-12-06T18:18:00.000-08:00

Here is a Halloween picture that I promised. I think I finally found a better way to post pictures, so hopefully, I'll be able to post more. It isn't very clear though, is it? I'm with my friend, Reed. I'm not sure what he's supposed to be...one of Robin's Merry Men? And when did I start looking like Dolly Parton? Seriously, I think when I got that dress, the boobs came with it. Of course my daughter is furious that I didn't get the name or the autograph of the "Laguna Beach" girl who tried to pay my way into the party. I guess I lagged.

I continue to embarrass myself.

2005-12-01T14:57:00.000-08:00

I'm 39 years old and pretty much over what other people think, which is the only reason I can write this post. As if it weren't bad enough that I'm a full blown Fanilow (remember my Vegas adventure of several months ago?), I think even I may have sunk to a new low. The other night on KCET, our version of PBS, I caught a special called The Carpenter's Remembered. I was in heaven! Seriously - pure bliss! I LOVE the Carpenter's. When I was a little girl (some would argue that I still AM a little girl) we would cruise in my mom's light blue Ford Thunderbird (see Back in the Day), and pop in the 8-Track tape of the Carpenter's Greatest Hits. My sister and I would make up our own words to "Close To You" so it didn't look like we were totally enjoying it, but we were. We loved it. To this day when we go sing karaoke, the first thing we do is check out which Carpenter's songs they have and we can seriously belt out Top of the World. Of course we think we're awesome, and we're pretty sure a recording contract is just around the corner.

So if the Fanilow tag isn't enough, the Carpenter's obsession isn't either. Immediately following that special was another stellar moment in the history of public television. Yes.....none other than John Denver: The Wildlife Concert. Does life get any better?! NOOO! Trust me - it doesn't! So I had to watch the whole thing, singing every song, reminiscing about my John Denver filled childhood days, making my teenager sit with me and listen. Gotta give her credit - she put up with it. Then I immediately got on Amazon and ordered the Carpenter's and John Denver's big collection CD's.

It's funny to me how KCET raises money with tributes to singers who died too young.
Oh well. I can't wait to get my CD's in the mail, mostly to torture my kids in the car!

So There's This Guy...

2005-11-09T21:43:00.000-08:00

...OR A Story in the Third Person...

His name is John. He has a friend named Steph. He is a very good friend to everyone he knows, but especially to Steph. It's not always easy being Steph's friend, but John makes it look easy. He is always there for her, no matter what. He calls her for no other reason but to tell her she's special. He texts her for no other reason but to make sure she has a great day. He e-mails her weekly to tell her what a great friend she is, but Steph knows that it is John who is the great friend. They haven't always seen eye to eye. They have had heated debates over important subjects. He always thinks about it and later tells Steph thank you for showing him something he hasn't seen before. John shows Steph what unconditional love and friendship means. He not only deals with her baggage, he accepts the whole matched set. He sends her purple flowers, listens to her when she cries about her life, and prays that she'll get a good night's sleep. Steph wishes she was as good a friend to John as he is to her, but she knows she hasn't been. She tries, but she knows that his friendship is not dependent on it. He's going to love her anyway. He thinks she's funny, smart and makes her feel like she's valuable. He teaches her a lot about relationships. He is the definition of kindness, and shows her how to be a good parent, because John is the best dad that Steph knows. John does all of this from 1,000 miles away. Steph can't thank him enough.

"No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth." ~Robert Southey

Random Questions, With Even Randomer Responses...

2005-11-01T23:14:00.000-08:00

I shamelessly stole this from Kate's site...

Name someone with the same birthday as you.
Bruce Springsteen. When I was in high school and college, I was a huge Springsteen fan - I still love his old stuff but I don't get into his new CD's as much. To this day my brother calls me every year on my birthday and leaves the same message on my voicemail..."Hey, don't forget to call Bruce today and wish him a Happy Birthday. Never mind, I'll tell him when I see him." It never gets old.

Where was your first kiss?
I was 14 and it was after a Sadie Hawkins dance. Freshman year, I asked Darren Uecker who had hair like a helmet. It was 1981 and he smooched me goodbye after the dance. He was a sophomore.

Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property?
Well, it depends on what you consider "seriously." Once when I was nine, my cousin Rick and I went to a construction site where they were finishing new homes and pushed a bag of wet plaster off the second story onto the first floor. At the time we just thought it was cool, but it had to have been a huge mess for the construction crew the next day. I've felt guilty about it ever since I realized that it wasn't really nice.

Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
Yeah, my brother. We got in a really big fight once after a long night of drinking. I was 19 and he was dissing my boyfriend REALLY bad. So when we got home, I sort of pushed past him on my way into the house. He stopped me, pointed his finger in my face and very slowly and calmly said, "Don't EVER touch me again." I figured I had one shot. So I wound up and slapped him as hard as I could across the face and then ran like hell into the house screaming, "MOOOOOMMMM!!!!"
And one time I threw my keys at my ex-husband, aiming at his head. He ducked, but I had thrown them so hard that they stuck into the wall behind him.

Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people?
Of course. Not only the alcohol induced karoake nights where my sister and I sounded like the Chipmunks, but I was also in the Gospel choir at my church for a couple of years.

What's the first thing you notice about the preferred sex?
Their "presence." You know, how they carry themselves. And their eyes, to see if they're kind.

What is your biggest mistake?
Underestimating myself in so many ways.

Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?
Not like you would think. But I do have this propensity to not eat when I'm depressed or stressed out. Most people have just the opposite - they eat or overeat under stress. The fact that I don't eat makes me wonder if I'm purposely trying to regain control, and that has got to be self-destructive.

Say something totally random about yourself.
Sometimes when I have to have an important conversation with someone, I not only go over it in my head first, but I also cover every possible outcome. I get so carried away with it sometimes that I find myself talking to myself and gesticulating in my car while I'm driving. I've looked over several times to see people looking at me like I'm crazy!

Has anyone ever said you look like a celebrity?
Yeah. When that show Hotel was out in the 80's, people said I looked like Connie Selleca. I've also been told I look like Marlo Thomas on That Girl. Of course, there's always the super model references.

Do you still watch kiddie movies or TV shows?
Yeah! I like some shows on Disney Channel that I watch with my daughter, and how about Finding Nemo?! "You are a squishy and you will be my squishy!!" :)

Did you have braces?
Yeah. And let this be a lesson to every teenager out there - WEAR YOUR RETAINER!!!
I didn't and now I have them again. Only this time they're the invisible ones that come off. I only wear them when I sleep. But I can't believe how great they're working!

Are you comfortable with your height?
Yeah I am. I'm only 5'1" and although I'm shorter than literally everyone I know, I've always liked being small. If I had to be a different height, I would be like 5'10". That's cool.

What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you?
Well, the way my ex-husband proposed was pretty cool. But once on my birthday, someone made such a big deal out of it and even took me to a ballet when he would have rather had a tooth drilled than sat through that. And the whole night was cool like that.

When do you know it's love?
When you realize that the other person's baggage is not a deal breaker, when you run to the front door every time that person walks in, when you see the future and they're in it.

Do you speak any other languages?
I thought I spoke passable Spanish, but the other day at work I tried to interview a customer in Spanish and I ended up asking her how much money she makes per table instead of per month.
If I'm in France, I can ask where the bathroom is.

Have you ever been to a tanning salon?
Yeah, you know in the 80's when that was big, but not recently.

What magazines do you read?
I love O. I also like the gossipy ones like People. I get Gourmet every month and rip out the good recipes before I toss them.

Have you ever ridden in a limo?
Lots of times.

Has anyone you were really close to passed away?
Yes. Both of my grandmas. They were both so awesome.
But the one that hit me the hardest was my friend Cindy. She was only a couple of years older then me and passed away about a year ago, quite unexpectedly. She impacted my life when I really needed her and losing her was devastating.

Do you watch MTV?
No, only when my daughter has it on, but I usually end up making fun of it.

What's something that really annoys you?
People who take their bad moods out on others. I don't get it, I don't do it and I have no patience for it.

What's something you really like?
Jacuzzi's! Looking at stars while I'm in a jacuzzi. Looking at stars and hearing the wind blow through trees while I'm in a jacuzzi.

Can you dance?
Kind of......I'm really good at faking it, like Big Band stuff. I can fake my way through any Jitterbug and stuff like that. I can dance well if I like the music, but if I don't, you can tell I'm faking it.

What's the latest you have ever stayed up?
Until 8:30 AM after gambling all night in Vegas with a very young man that I met that night.

Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?
Yes. October 23, 1999. I was in a 280Z, passenger side, and got hit on my side with a Dodge Ram truck that ran a red light and hit me broadside. After 150 feet of locked braked skidmarks, the truck hit me at 60 MPH. Should have died, but God had other plans. I'm so glad.

Skanky Halloween Bash

2005-10-28T23:15:00.000-07:00

When did dressing up for Halloween become a hooch contest? I went to a Halloween party last night and I couldn't believe the costumes that literally all the girls were wearing. Every conceivable costume, from bumblebees to convicts, to Dorothy and Toto, all of them a sleazed out version aimed at showing as much ass and cleavage as possible. I don't think I'm a prude, but I was embarrassed for them.

I got invited to what I thought was going to be a cool party. It was Paul Frank's party (the designer) and I thought it would be somewhat upscale. I needed a pass to get in and I had to wait outside for my friend for a few minutes because I met him there. I should have known which way the night was headed when I heard a security guy get on a walkie-talkie and say, "Attention! We need a table upstairs ASAP for the cast of Laguna Beach!" Oh brother. Actually, one of them was quite nice. A young girl on the show who saw me waiting for a very long time outside struck up a conversation with me about my costume and then kept insisting to the door guy that he let me in with them because I was freezing. It was very sweet and she seemed genuinely concerned about the fact that I was standing in the cold.

I have a very good friend named John who has a long and funny last name (sorry John!) who I always make fun of for it, and I bet him that I could drop his name and get someone to agree that they knew who he was. He lives in Washington and as far as I know has never been on television, but I knew the power of suggestion can be stronger than any truth. At some point in the night, the band announced, "And we have the cast of Laguna Beach here tonight!" The crowd went wild (yes, they were all that young) and I turned to the girl next to me and said, "OH, I know someone who was on that show last season!" (Did they even HAVE a last season?) And she of course asked who? So I said, "John Vanderkjlkghawhb." And she said "Who?!" And I said, "YOU KNOWWWWW...the guy who went out with that girl for awhile before she dumped him for the other guy. He lived in that big house with the ocean view and his parents sent him somewhere really cool for graduation." And she said, "Oh Yeaaahhhh." Yes! Score!

Overall, the night was a disappointment. And on a school night, too. Oh well. My costume was awesome, though! Alright, three guesses......Prom dress, a tiara and lots of blood. Guess who? Ha! It was great. I only had a disposable camera, but I'll post a picture or two when I get them developed.

My Baby Girl

2005-10-17T22:26:00.000-07:00

For those who don't know me...my daughter just started high school. She's 14, a freshman, and pretty. I knew before she ever started that I was screwed. Not only a freshman, but a pretty one, and a volleyball player. Who doesn't like the cute volleyball girls? Her Homecoming dance is coming up this weekend and by last week, five (FIVE!!) boys had already asked her. She finally said yes to the fifth one. One was a junior. I pretty much told her that she would go to the dance with a junior over my cold dead body. She understood. So after being asked to Homecoming by five different boys (did I mention one was a sleazy junior bastard who has no business even looking at my daughter?), she got her braces off on Friday. You know how you can picture how someone will look without them and you know they'll look better? Well, I had no idea. She doesn't just look better - she looks exponentially better. Out of control better. Okay...I know I'm her mom. I know I'm not objective, but TRUST ME!!! Anyone who has seen her (with or without braces) will tell you how beautiful she is. I AM SCREWED!!! So some kid named Jared is the lucky little guy. He called the other night and has terrible phone manners, and I am a stickler about phone manners in teenagers. Poor kid has no idea how I plan on re-training him if he hopes to spend one minute with my daughter. I've done it before, I can do it again. The last kid that liked my daughter now says the following when he calls my house..."Hi, Stephanie! This is Alex. How are you?" I say fine, talk to him for a minute and then he asks if Livy is available. They have stayed great friends, so we laugh about it now, but I literally trained him in speaking to parents, and told him how it would serve him well when he was older. His parents thanked me. If I can train him, I can train an impressionable little guy like Jared.
So of course, they're doing the overpriced limo thing with a bunch of kids. And of course, I will be at whoever's house the limo is picking them up at, biting my tongue when the kid looks at my daughter like she's dessert, and testing for a firm handshake. I know, I know...I'm a psycho mom. But she's my baby. I think she was just in diapers like last week. When did this happen? When did she grow into this beautiful, self-assured, kind hearted and confident young girl? Not to mention so charming. Oh, damn. I know I'm going to cry on Saturday night. But don't worry, I'll wait until they drive away.

My Morning...and 60 Seconds of Sleaze

2005-10-14T12:58:00.000-07:00

You know Ryan Seacrest, of American Idol fame? Also the subject of my overused "Who told THAT guy he has talent?" line. He does a morning show on the radio out here, as if he's not annoying enough on TV. I don't listen to the station, but my 14 year old daughter has it set as a preset station for when she's in my car (although I'm pretty sure that when she has her own car in a year and a half, my choosing her presets will not be an option). Anyway, because the music on all of my other presets happened to suck at the moment, I pushed her little preset button in time to hear a breathy female voice say, "60 Seconds of Sleaze when we return." I rolled my eyes and was about to change it again when I thought it might be a good idea to listen to the 60 Seconds of Sleaze that my 14 year old is apparently exposed to. So when they came back on, I found that Ryan was reporting live from Pico Rivera (not one of your nicer L.A. neighborhoods) and interviewing people live on the air. As one would expect in Pico Rivera (a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood), most of the people in the audience were Hispanic with pretty heavy accents. So he introduced each one, BUTCHERED their names to the point of embarrassment (at least for me), and then when he answered them, he actually took on an accent himself! What an idiot. He spent a full minute making an ass out of himself with this fake accent, probably not even realizing that it's really not okay. THAT was the 60 Seconds of Sleaze?
60 Seconds of Stupidity.

So here's the best part of my morning...I'm just bummed that I didn't have my camera! I was on my way to work and I passed a Budget rent-a-truck. On the side panel was a picture of two stick figures, one bending over in front of the other. The one standing upright was wrapping packing tape around the other one's neck and head, so his upper half looked like a mummy. The writing above the picture said, "Packing Tip #48: Packing tape should not be used for mean and dangerous pranks." HA!

Bummer.

2005-10-03T09:02:00.000-07:00

I am 11% White Trash.

I, my friend, have class. I am so not white trash. . I am more than likely Democrat, and my place is neat, and there is a good chance I may never drink wine from a box.

Take the
White Trash Test
@ FualiDotCom

I'm a little bummed about this, not to mention a little surprised. I DO live in southern Orange County, have a productive job, I have all of my teeth and no broken down cars on my lawn...but my Grammie was a career cocktail waitress who finally retired from the bowling alley at 69. Seriously. I thought having that in my bloodline would make me at least 20% white trash. Now what's my excuse for the white trash tailgate parties before old '80's bands?

Damn...Now I'll never win the lottery.

What a boring day........

2005-10-02T15:37:00.000-07:00

Sometimes being single can suck. All my friends are married and hanging out with their husbands today and I had no one to hang out with. I sound like such a whiner, huh? But I just got this big fat paycheck on Friday and I wanted to spend some of it. My kids went to their dad's house yesterday and won't be home until Monday morning. So after running around the house doing the happy dance for about five minutes over having the house all to myself, I had a friend over for the Notre Dame game and a BBQ and that was fun. Then I woke up this morning all ready to go shopping and drop some cash, but the mall is just not so much fun by myself. I did get some killer perfume, though, and I have a feeling that at least one person a day will tell me how great I smell.
Usually I love having time to myself and am quite productive. Today I'm just bored.
I asked myself what I usually do when I'm alone that I have a lot of fun doing. So I'm gonna go put on an Andrea Bocelli CD, bake Parmesan bread and pretend I'm Italian.

Spyware and Purple Mountain's Majesty...

2005-09-26T21:44:00.000-07:00

I have a spyware problem that is so bad, my computer has become a paperweight. It's completely useless. I get pop-ups that I can't even keep up with, my virus control and firewall have completely given up, and I even now get ads that appear as icons on my desktop. I think if I continue to try to use it, it will somehow use it's power to take over my corner of the world. I can still log on at work, but I have no time to post or read everyone else's, which is a drag. But I'll try to do what I can.

My daughters started school a couple of weeks ago. My younger one is in 5th grade and still needs crayons for school. So as I'm helping her get her stuff together the night before the first day of school, I look down at the box of Crayolas and had to stop and check it out. When I was a kid, we had crayons that were pretty generically named...you know, like Carnation Pink, Green Yellow, Blue Violet. Very literal. The only exotically named crayon was something like Burnt Sienna, because who really knew what color THAT was? But now they're really cool! I saw colors like Granny Smith Apple (which I swear they got from the martini!), Macaroni and Cheese (!), Wisteria, Mauvelous, and my personal favorite...Purple Mountain's Majesty. I love that one. I don't know what else there was because my daughter finally told me to back away from the crayons and nobody gets hurt. I got a little carried away.

My friend John who lives in Washington state sent me a cookbook for my birthday (along with some beautiful purple flowers) and it's called A Savory Sampler from Washington's Skagit Valley. It reminded me of the crayons. There are recipes in it like Sea Pigs, Wild Chanterelle Mushroom Timbale Black Swan (huh? If I have to go kill a swan, I'm out.), Abalone Beachballs, Angels on Horseback by the Water, and my personal favorite...Kan Ikke La Vaere. I haven't had that in awhile.
John says that all three women he knows swear by this cookbook. Actually, I'm looking forward to trying a few...especially the Keftethes.

By the way, I had a birthday...the big 3-9. I might as well be 40.

Hope is doing well, even though her new nickname is Hopeless (could someone have WARNED me that potty training a cocker spaniel is slightly harder than getting a Presidential pardon?

Other than that, things are good. Work is good, friends are good. Getting ready for another trip to the Big Apple in a couple of weeks (my dork older brother eloped and wants to have a reception in two weeks - nothing like time to plan!).

I just realized my computer was down when I took my trip to Chicago for Jimmy Buffet at Wrigley Field. I will definitely have to write about that later! Maybe even post a picture or two!!

Ow...Ow...OOWWWWWWW!!!!!!!

2005-08-09T22:53:00.000-07:00

I just got back from taking my girls ice blocking. That's where you take a big block of ice, find the steepest grassy hill you can, and slide! A California version of sledding.

I'm now in pain.

Why do I think I'm 16 years old and my body can take this stuff? Ow.

I have to admit it was a blast. We ended up with 7 kids and 4 adults. Four of the kids tried building an ice blocking train where they all hooked onto the person's legs in front of them, lining up their blocks of ice and letting go. That caused some injuries, but none that landed them in the emergency room. That's always a bonus. I'm always amazed at the fact that other parents still seem to trust me with their children. Personally, I wiped out so many times I lost count.

We took little Hope with us and of course she had a blast chasing us down the hill, as though she might actually catch us! Such a cutie. And then there's me, thinking my body is made of steel, whizzing down the hill, as though wiping out at the bottom won't hurt for the next three days. Ow.

Oh, this part was cool...I've been ice blocking since high school, even on the same hill. It's simply called The Ice Blocking Hill, and everyone in this town knows about it. The first time I went was in 1982. It was in high school right after my first, no second, Go-Go's concert. It was their Vacation tour. Of course I got a T-shirt from the concert which showed all the Go-Go's water skiing on the front, and the back said, "Don't bother me - I'm on Vacation!" I STILL HAVE IT!! Yes - it's been my official ice blocking shirt ever since then, and I pulled it out for the big event tonight! Vintage Go-Go's. Love it. I wore it proudly.

Well, I gotta go to bed. I'm so sore but even too tired for a bath. Of course my girls aren't even home yet, because the ice blocking apparently didn't tire them out enough and now they need to go toilet paper someone's house. I'm cool with that as long as they show up in the morning to help clean up.

By the way, everyone who told me to crate train Hope - Thank You!! When I finally listened and started crating her for the night, she and I have slept so much better!!

A Little Hope...

2005-07-23T08:22:00.000-07:00

Awwwwwwwww..........

Yup...here's the newest member of our little family. Her name is Hope.
I broke down, gave in, caved in...whatever you want to call it - I am a sucker!
My girls have been begging for a dog for years and I've managed to dodge this bullet for as long as possible. I swear raising a puppy is harder than raising a child and I've tried to explain that to my kids. But then we were in the pet store the other night and saw this little cutie and even I couldn't resist. I did pretty well when they told me that the dog was $750! For a dog? She doesn't even have papers (not that I need those, but for $750 bucks, you'd think they would at least keep up the pretense of her being valuable). I'm all about saving the dog from the pound - that's where we got our cat. But I sure fell in love with this little girl! I talked them down to $600 and then got my ex-husband to pay for it (he's a bigger sucker than me! ;) He started out by saying he would give me $400 towards the dog and then he saw the teary look in my daughter's eyes when she thought she couldn't get it. She gave us the speech about how of course she'll pick up after it, take it for walks, bathe it, feed it twice a day, train it to drive her to school...all the things a parent wants to hear. Her dad fell for it hard - she is such a daddy's girl! He finally said, "Okay, just go get the dog, and just try to get me a good deal on it!" She started to cry again, and when I asked her why she was crying, she said, "Because I'm so happy!" Awww...!! Then I look at her dad and his eyes were all teary, and I thought - SUCKER!!!

She sure is a cute little thing, but now I'm in for long nights, early mornings and chewed up stuff all over the house. I never realized how much stuff I leave laying around until I got her, and it's only been one day!

By the way, I don't know the first thing about training a dog, so I could use any advice anyone chooses to give. She's managed not to have any accidents in the house (we take her out like every five minutes!), but I know they're coming.

I'll keep you posted on little Hope's progress!

Hmmmmmm....

2005-07-07T07:36:00.000-07:00

I heard a great story once along the lines of Indecent Proposal...A man offers a woman a million dollars to sleep with him and she says, "Sure!" thinking what she could do with a million bucks.
Well, they go back to her place, and when they're done, he throws a five dollar bill on the nightstand. She yells, "Five bucks?! I'm not a whore!" And he replies, "I think we've already established that you are."

I think you could apply that story to so many situations in life - our willingness to compromise for the right price. My ex-husband lives about 45 minutes away and one Friday night he was supposed to drive to my house to pick up the girls for the weekend. He did not want to fight traffic and asked me to drive them out instead. I had plans that night and since his house is down the same highway that leads to the mountains, Vegas, the river, basically everywhere a southern Californian may want to escape for the weekend, there was no way I was going to engage in a three hour round trip as a favor to him. Finally he said, "I will give you $500 if you drive the girls out here right now."..................DONE!!! Does that make me a driving whore? I don't care - I got five hundred bucks!! :)

In my new job I call on car dealers, specifically finance managers. I spent the entire day in the field yesterday visiting dealers who haven't sent us any business in the last few months, and trust me, I knew what I was doing. One dealer has only sent us one deal (worth about $9000) in the last several months because he hates our program and thinks we're too tight. I walked out of there with $100,000 worth of contracts (and a Mango-A-Go-Go Jamba Juice), and I know it was directly proportional to the length of my skirt - trust me, our program hasn't changed. At another dealer I got several contracts, lunch, and my car washed. How funny is that? When I go out in the field, I'm usually out until 7 or 8 at night, yet I know it's not my hard work or diligence that's earning me these contracts. It's the skirt. It's the ability to sit there and pretend to be flattered and laugh at their jokes. Again - I don't even care! I got a sweet bonus last month and if things keep going well, I'll get an even sweeter one this month.

Today is our company golf tournament and we invited our favorite dealers. There are so many that I think would be really fun to hang out with and we were sure to invite all of them. So my partner and I get a chance to spoil them with our self-stocked beer cart, and we get to see them in a more social environment. I'm really looking forward to it. I was planning on taking about a case of beer and maybe the makings of my killer apple martinis, but my boss just called to tell me that someone else is taking four cases of beer for her dealers? FOUR? I only invited eight people and I'm pretty sure two of them don't drink. This should be good....hopefully I'll have some great stories tomorrow....and the time to actually write about them!

Blogging Brilliance 6.28.05

2005-06-28T22:44:00.000-07:00

First I have to say that thanks to Marie, I now have "It's a Sunshine Day", from the Brady Bunch stuck in my head. It's been playing on my computer (thank God it's looped!) for the last twenty minutes. I'm pathetic.

Since I'm still feeling pretty brain dead (see previous statement), I'm trying to make this easy on myself and just answer a question for this post...

What would I be willing to die for?

For me, that's pretty easy...my family. But I would also be willing to die for my beliefs. I wish I could say that I would be willing to die for my friends, but having two little girls to take care of, can I really make that statement?
Why my beliefs and not my friends? I'm not even sure I can articulate this, but mainly because part of my beliefs is a lesson to my girls that you have to choose what it is that you're made of. I can't stand apathy. Can't stand people who have no opinions, feelings, passions. Why bother?

I worked for about 120 hours today and again, I'm fried, so I'm probably making no sense, but I want to hear what you guys have to say, too...

What would you be willing to die for?

I'm brain dead...But tonight is lookin' good!!

2005-06-26T14:57:00.000-07:00

Holy crap, I'm fried. I started my new job and fell off the face of the earth. I cannot believe how this new job is consuming my life. Jen, how do you do it? I've never had to work to make sales goals before. I've always had jobs that were goal-oriented, but my paycheck has never depended on it. Now that it does, I have become a machine. Being a capitalist pig is no easy gig (if this doesn't work out, I could always go into writing Dr. Seuss books, I guess).

All I know is tonight I'm taking a break!! I'm going to see one of my all time favorite bands - JOURNEY!!! I can't wait. I'm pulling out the old CD's and packing up the tailgating supplies, because what is a Journey concert without the white trash tailgate? They don't have Steve Perry with them but from what I hear, the new guy sounds just like him.

This brings back a funny memory from when I was 16. My older sister hasn't always been so conservative - she was actually a wild woman in high school and she took me to a Journey concert at the Rose Bowl one summer, you know the kind that goes on all day with festival seating? I think Blue Oyster Cult was actually there. :) Anyway, we were separated at one point and I was walking around on the lawn looking for her and there was a group of people throwing girls up on a trampoline made out of a blanket. Remember those? So I walk by and one of them spots me. I was even smaller in high school (as my friend Scott puts it, probably 90 pounds soaking wet with change in my pocket), and I guess after throwing much heavier girls in the air all day, I looked like a nice break, so one of them yells, "Grab THAT girl!" Next thing I know they're throwing me in the middle of the blanket and heaving me 25 feet up into the air, at the same time barking orders at me about the safest way to land. It was a riot. Isn't it funny how when we're young, things like broken necks or even a broken leg never cross our minds? All I knew was I was flyin' and loving it!! Good times. Hard to believe that was 22 years ago! God, I'm old. You know part of me is secretly hoping someone spots me and says, "Hey! Isn't that the chick from the blanket at the Rose Bowl?" :) I'll proudly acknowledge that, yes, it's me...

I hope every one else is having a great weekend!

Movin' on up.

2005-06-14T22:26:00.000-07:00

Tonight marked a significant ending for me.

As I have mentioned before in my blog, I was previously a minister. My degree is in ministry and up until about two years ago, it was also my "profession." My first job in ministry was as a youth minister and although my attendance at church is pretty meager these days, I still volunteer in the Jr. High Ministry of my church. If you know me well, you know the problems I have with the American church today. But foundationally, my faith is strong and my heart is pulled towards teenagers - their struggles, their growth, their lovable spirits.

As a youth minister, I was involved in a ministry of 900 Jr. High students - it was huge! Along with weekend services, we also placed those who were interested into small groups that meet in an adult leader's home every week. So for the last two years, I've had the same 11 girls meet in my home every Tuesday night. One of these girls is my own 14 year old daughter. My co-leader for this group is an amazing 19 year old girl named Sara, who was in my group when she was 12 years old. I am blessed that she has chosen to remain in my life all of these years, and I know she always will be. Over the years, I've had several of these groups, each lasting their two years of Jr. High, but none that has affected me quite like this one.

This month they are all "graduating" from 8th grade, moving into high school, and onto a new small group leader next year. I was not prepared for the overwhelming sadness that I would feel in letting these girls go. We've grown to love each other incredibly. To trust each other implicitly, because everything said in the confines of our group is treated as sacred. We came from all walks of life, some were popular, some were nerds, some were jocks. When we all came together, most of the girls had nothing in common. But as time went on, they became the friendly face to each other at school, supporting each other outside of our group. Their differences melted away. We had slumber parties together, water fights, pillow fights, we all cried over one of us being hurt, we went to summer camp together, we fed the homeless together, adopted disabled children for Christmas, and grew up together in the two years we had. We have a national champion synchronized swimmer, a Student of the Year, and one of them even survived two brain surgeries in the last year. We went to each other's basketball games, music recitals, awards banquets, and no one in our group ever felt like she was going through anything alone.

It was supposed to be a Bible study every week, but I can count on one hand how many of those we actually accomplished this year. I felt pretty strongly that I needed to prepare them for high school in ways that they wouldn't learn in church. Not just how to make good choices, but how to grow into the young women they were capable of being. How to dream big and realize those dreams. How to maintain their confidence in a world that is not always kind. I tried to show them how awesome they are and build up their self-esteem, because that's what will keep them from making unhealthy choices in the future. I loved them unconditionally, and they returned that love exponentially. One gave me a card that said, "Over the last two years, I have become a stronger person. I can honestly say that's because of you. You have taught us to stand up for what we believe in."
Wow. I am humbled.

Tonight, our last night, I had them each write their own obituary. At first they thought it was creepy until they realized the possibilities! They had to live to a minimum of 90 years old, and write it in the third person, telling about their life, loves, accomplishments, etc. How would they want to be remembered when they leave this earth? They worked very hard on them, and believe me, it's not easy to get that many screaming teenagers quiet for very long, but this did it. Afterward, I asked if I could read one or two of them, and every single girl wanted me to read hers. I had a few stay at home moms, several teachers, a physical therapist, an airforce pilot, a missionary and a Nobel Peace Prize Winner. One even named her daughter Steph. Most importantly, they realized that their possibilities are only limited by their dreams, and they are dreaming big!

I don't know what to do with the incredible sadness and loss that I feel tonight over letting these girls go. I can only be thankful that their futures are bright.

I do know that when I go to bed tonight, I will thank God for the opportunity to have played some small part in these incredible girls' lives, and consider it a privilege to know every one of them.

Steph Got PROMOTED!!!

2005-06-13T21:26:00.000-07:00

...and it's about frickin' time!!

Today it became official...a promotion I've been waiting a very long time for finally came through. I've been working for this company for almost two years, making less than shit (really, when I open my paychecks, there's no dollar amount, it just says "shit"), waiting for an opportunity such as this, and I finally got it. I seriously would not have hung this long with the company if I didn't think it would pay off someday and now it finally will!!

My favorite comment of congratulations came from my stepmom, Kate. I come from a long line of highly successful, self-employed over-achievers, and I've just never been one. I was a nurse, a minister, etc...all feel-good jobs where money was just not important. When I called Kate with the good news, she told me how happy and proud she was, and then said, "You know...in our family, we're all such capitalist pigs, but we felt okay about that because we thought we just needed one do-gooder in the bunch and that was you. Now you're a capitalist pig like us - a capitalist piglet! (since I'm the youngest)" Yup - that's me! :)

Yeah for Steph!!

A Story That Should Definitely Stay in Vegas...

2005-06-10T20:42:00.000-07:00

...but if I had any judgment in the first place, it probably never would have happened.

No short way to tell this story, so grab some popcorn.

I have to preface this story by first telling you a bit about my older sister, Jennifer. We are very, very close. We don't make any moves without first consulting the other, parenting, career-wise, etc. We talk almost every day, even though we live 400 miles apart. However, and this is a very big HOWEVER, we could not be more different. She is ultra-conservative (no, don't worry, not an I-voted-for-Bush conservative), but in her dress, in her manner, in her idea of fun. Very unlike my brother and I. It's amazing that we were all raised in the same household. She's very serious, I'm just not. Over the years, she hasn't always identified with, or approved of, all of my behavior to say the least. You can tell how different we are by first sight...I get called the MILF in my neighborhood (and find that sickly flattering); she would find that utterly offensive. I have really long dark brown hair, and am a total girly girl. She's got short blonde hair, no make-up (she's lucky enough to not need it), glasses, shops at L.L. Bean. Okay, so now you know...

I have a friend in Vegas named Michael who I decided to have breakfast with on that Saturday morning. We went to the new Wynn Hotel to check it out. I had been up very late the night before and had a Bloody Mary with breakfast. We then decided to check out the pool, thinking as a brand new hotel, it would be very cool. It was lame, but there was a bar, so by 10:30 AM we're throwing back martini's. Hey, it's Vegas.
Well, on the other side of the bar, there's another pool, this one with a sign that says, "European Style Bathing." I know what they were hoping for, but if it was anything like the European Style Bathing that I saw while I was in Europe, the only ones getting naked were a bunch of saggy old men. There were quite a few people at the pool already, but none of them actually topless, just a few men hoping to see topless women.

So fast-forward an hour or so, a couple drinks later...Michael bribes one of the pool guys to get us a couple of chairs and some towels even though we can't produce a room key, and we get set up under a tree in the back. By now, a few women are sunbathing topless, and a whole lot of men are enjoying the scenery. It's really hot and I'm in jeans, high heeled sandals and a silk-lined tank top. I'm hot. It's already 95 degrees out. My four drinks tell me there's nothing wrong with taking off my jeans and sunbathing in my underwear and tank top. I figured you can't tell the difference between my underwear and a bathing suit anyway (if you're into white thong bathing suits), so off they come. Of course Michael, being the guy that he is says, "SURE!! Why not? Get comfortable!" So we lay there soaking up some rays for a few minutes when I realize that I'm sweating under my silk tank top. Get ready...this is the part that lands me in the God Fearing Mother of Two Hall of Shame...I decide it's a great idea to take off the tank top, too. By now plenty of women are topless around the pool (okay...a couple), and hey, I'm in the back where there's very little foot traffic. Off goes the tank top.

Around noon my sister calls because her flight had just landed. I told her we were at the Wynn hotel pool and to go to our hotel, grab my bathing suit and join us. I told her to call when she was outside the pool area and we would slip the pool kid more cash to let them in. Of course I didn't tell her I was naked, because that would have caused a huge rift between us - she would not dig it to say the least (as well as very different than me, did I also mention that she's a very protective older sister?).

Back to the pool...I still managed to stay low key for awhile until Michael wanted to go in the pool. Of course, I resisted for awhile, remembering the WHITE underwear, but he talked me into walking to the pool with a towel wrapped around me, just dropping it long enough to get under water. While standing by the side of the pool I met two women who were also thinking of stripping down and getting in, so of course I talked them into it so as to have a couple partners in crime. I stayed in the water up to my neck, but they just did not care. They were all over the place, which was nice because it made me feel like the attention was on them and not me. After awhile, we get out of the pool. He got out first and held out my towel and my drunken state convinced me that no one saw anything. I knew I had to dry off in time for my sister to arrive and put my suit on when she got there.

A few minutes later, I'm feeling a little parched. Must be a Vegas phenomenon...the thirst that even a bloody mary, an apple martini and three beers before noon can't quench. We were wondering what happened to our cocktail waitress and after that much alcohol, getting pretty damn indignant, too! We needed more drinks! I told Michael to go, he told me to go, I said no, and he said, "I KNEW you wouldn't go up to the bar like that. I dare you." WHAT?! Did someone just dare me to do something that is totally within my realm of possibility (which only means won't hurt my children or myself - anything else is fair game)? That same bloody mary, apple martini, and three beers were screaming "HEY! There is NO shame in MY game!!!" I grabbed a towel to cover up the front of my still wet underwear, flipped my hair over my shoulder with a backwards 'I'm too stinkin' hot' look at Michael and I was off! Through the cluster of chairs, around the pool, and through the bar. I was just about to give my order to the bartender when what do I hear behind me, but a very loud and infuriated voice say, "What the F&#@ are you doing?!"

My sister.

Guess she made it in on her own.

All she sees is my back covered with long, dark, wet hair and my bare ass hanging out for everyone to see. So I turn around (which is no better when you're naked and trying to hide it) to speak to her. I begin to explain about the dare and blah, blah, blah...none of it made sense, no one cared, particularly her. So I decided to take another tack and order us some drinks, hoping that would put her in a better mood. I turn to the bartender and give him our order and he says, "I'm sorry miss, I can't serve you unless you put more on." WHAT?!!!!!! This whole European Style Bathing thing was THEIR STINKIN' IDEA!! So if I wasn't feeling like enough of a ho in front of my sister, that pretty much clinched it. Our other friends who had arrived with her eventually approached when they saw that she wasn't going to chastise me further and we all ordered drinks - after I wrapped the towel around me, of course.

Eventually Michael came to find me. Last he knew, he sent me to the bar 15 minutes earlier, naked. Kind of an awkward introduction to say the least, "Uh...Jen, this is Michael...Michael, this is Jen." Her knowing that he's the one who put her baby sister up to this. Yeah.

Good Times.

Yeah, I'm bragging...so what?

2005-06-09T19:36:00.000-07:00

Check out the two babes on the left!!

If these were your kids, you'd brag too.

I just came across this picture on my digital camera.

Mother's Day 2005 and I'm with the two cutest, sweetest little girls who have ever lived.

The older one on the left...she's already got the super-model shoulder lean down. That is so her.
And the one on the right...crooked sunglasses - that is so her.

My pride and joy...

God help me.

2005-06-08T14:46:00.000-07:00

Young Travis voted for Bush (believe me, I asked).

Does this mean that I get community service credit for the evening I spent with him?

Robbing the Cradle. Again.

2005-06-06T15:06:00.000-07:00

I have to admit, I have a thing for younger men. I haven't always, but the older I get...well, you know. I know it sounds a little gross, but it's not intentional. I just happen to meet more younger men than men my age. In fact, in my entire life, I have only dated one man who was older than me. My ex-husband was my age and literally everyone else has been younger. At first, the age difference was just like two or three years, but then it became more like five, and awhile ago, six.
Now, in my defense, I really don't look my age (and I've been told I don't act it, either), so I tend to attract men who think I'm closer to their age, sometimes with hysterical results. Often times, I'll be out with friends and meet someone considerably younger than me. When the conversation gets around to them asking for my phone number, or whether or not I'm seeing someone, I'll always jump in and tell them up front how old I am and that I have two kids (one who is actually 14 years old!). Men have been known to scurry like mice when I tell them I'm 38 years old! My friends and I have gotten some good laughs out of it on more than one occassion!

When I was in Vegas recently, I ended up sitting at a blackjack table for several hours with this very cute young man named Travis (that's your first clue right there - no one born before 1974 is named Travis). I didn't start gambling until 1 AM and we were sitting at the same table for so long that we eventually made it our new goal to gamble until the sun came up. And since you can walk around Vegas with alcohol, he said, "When the sun comes up, we'll go outside and toast the new day!" How cute is that? So at 6:30 AM we went outside and walked around Vegas with the streets clean and empty and prettier than usual. Now Travis is not a bit deterred by the fact that I'm a hundred years older than him (He's 30. JUST turned 30 in March!). In fact, he's driving up from San Diego tonight to take me to dinner. I almost cancelled, thinking that since we obviously have very little in common, why waste our time? But I'm going. I figure if he's nice enough to call me every day for a week and a half, and drive an hour to see me, it's the least I can do.

I'll keep you posted. And I'll try not to lean over and cut his meat.

Thank God It's Monday?

2005-06-05T22:07:00.000-07:00

Never thought I'd hear myself say that, but I am so looking forward to this weekend being over. This was one for the books. So allow me to bitch and moan for a minute about my weekend...

I have two active little girls - club level athletes, which means my life is not my own. This weekend, they both had tournaments. I'm a single mom and their dad doesn't help with the sports end of things, so I'm on my own. Friday night, my friend Chera invited me over for a BBQ (where she made "beer-butt" chicken - some of the best I've ever had!! Let me know if you want the recipe!), and I gladly accepted because I knew I was in for a tiring weekend.

Saturday rolls around and I have to be at the soccer field at 6:45 AM. Not my daughter, just me. Parents had to volunteer for the tournament since we were hosting it, and I got stuck with the first shift. So, at 9:00 AM, I head back home, wake up the girls, back to the soccer field for game #1. There's another game at 4:45, but I have to take my other daughter, the volleyball player, to Anaheim (45 minutes away) for her Regionals by 2:00 PM. Back home for the second soccer game, then back to Anaheim for the second VB game, ending at 10 PM. The tournament continued today, and depending on how they did, they could play anywhere from our home gym (5 minutes away) to La Verne (1 1/2 hours away) and either way, they had to be there by 7 AM this morning. We got stuck in Torrance (1 hour away). So last night, home to bed and up at 5:30. Thanks to my little girls angel of a soccer coach, I didn't have to worry about her after her second game on Sat. because she went home with her family and back to the fields Sunday morning. Have I lost anyone yet?...

Sunday...I get woken up at 2:00 AM by one of my closest friends who is at a party and has had quite a bit to drink (yes, the Midnight Phone Call strikes again). He was at a friends birthday party and was waiting for a car service to pick him and take him home since he had been drinking. I guess he just wanted to talk. He had a fight with his girlfriend earlier that night, so she didn't go. He asked if he could call me back in a half hour. I guess the car service wasn't showing up and he was going to call and track it down. He calls an hour and a half later, casually asks me how my day was and when I ask about his night, he tells me that he just crashed his truck, after falling asleep at the wheel. He got tired of waiting for the car service, was mad at his girlfriend, decided 'screw it - I'm driving myself home' and now crashed his truck! This is someone that I care about so much and of course, I stressed about it for the rest of the night (morning!). He said he was at a rest area, his truck was on the side of the offramp leading to the rest area and he was just hoping that none of the three state troopers in the area put two and two together. Then all of a sudden, he said he had to go and I didn't hear from him again. Nice. (I texted him today saying, "Let me know you're not in jail," and his response was, "Funny you should ask..." That's never good.)

So we get to Torrance by 7 AM. Being an hour away, there's no chance of me making either of my other daughter's two soccer games, so I'm calling my friends to try to get someone to go watch her play, cheer her on and possibly take her home afterward. At one point during the game, my little girl (even though she kicks ass on a soccer field, she's soooo little) takes a hit so hard, she goes down flat. I guess they had to stop the game and the hit to her head was so hard, she couldn't see for a minute. This is my baby and I wasn't there! Luckily, her coach was there and handled it. I also missed her score two goals and make a killer slide tackle!

My older daughter's volleyball tournament goes well, but during the last match (six hours later), she goes for a hit that someone else goes for, they collide, and we end up in the Emergency Room. Yeah. She's going to Reno in three weeks, to Nationals, and this could have messed that up for her. Luckily she only sprained her hand, which means sitting out of practice for a week or so.

A huge part of me insists that I add...does this make me a 'soccer mom?' Even though I drive a little convertible and not the requisite mini-van or SUV? Please say no. When did I get this old?

Let's recap...Two hours of volunteering at the crack of dawn, four soccer games, eighteen volleyball games, six hours of driving, five hours of sleep (all weekend), one friend who is potentially in the pokey, one trip to the ER, and the biggest guilt trip a mom can have for not being there when my baby got slammed.

So, yeah, this is only the rantings of a single mom who is feeling a little overworked and underpaid at the moment. But I knew what I signed up for, and I wouldn't change it. My little girl's team took third in her tournament, and my older girl's team took second. I'm really tired, but you know what? My girls kick so much ass! :)

Farewell, Shmarewell...

2005-06-01T21:54:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here watching the Eagles Farewell I Tour. Seems like ten years ago, I paid $250 per ticket to their Hell Freezes Over Comeback Tour. Wouldn't that have been preceded by Farewell I? I don't know. Don Henley said tonight that he can't believe that people don't see that as tongue in cheek humor. I don't even care, I am just so diggin' sitting here listening to the Eagles singing Deperado live. Take It To The Limit was pretty cool, too. They're playing all of the old favorites.

But holy crap - what happened to Joe Walsh? That guy has hit some hard times.

Blogging Brilliance 6.1.05

2005-06-01T16:02:00.000-07:00

Okay, here's the next thing I would love to hear everyone's opinion on...
the mother in Tennessee who hired a stripper for her son's 16th birthday party.

(The full text is below if you haven't read this one yet...)

DO YOU THINK THIS MOTHER SHOULD BE PUNISHED FOR HIRING A STRIPPER FOR HER MINOR SON?

What do I think? I actually think she should. I think when you're that age, it's your parent's job to protect you from growing up too fast and experiencing those kinds of things. I realize when kids reach a certain age, their decisions are their own. As a parent, you can only hope that you've taught them to make the right ones. But to actually push them down the road of what was probably pretty trashy, I just don't think that's okay. If I were the parent of one of the other boys, I would be pretty pissed that she made that assumption for my child.

On another note, maybe we should just arrest her for stupidity...taking the pictures to be developed at the drug store? What did she think was going to happen?

What do you guys think? Also, did anyone have a mother like that?

NASHVILLE, Tenn. - A mother faces criminal charges after she hired a stripper to dance at her 16-year-old son’s birthday party.

Anette Pharris, 34, has been indicted by a grand jury on charges of contributing to the delinquency of a minor and involving a minor in obscene acts. The boy’s father, the stripper and two others also face charges.

“I tried to do something special for my son,” Pharris said. “It didn’t harm him.”

About 10 people under the age of 18 were at the birthday party in September, including minors who were not related to the family, authorities said.

Police spokesman Don Aaron said minors are not permitted in adult establishments.

“A person shouldn’t be allowed to circumvent that law by hiring a stripper, a lady who took all her clothes off and spent a good amount of time dancing around minors,” he said.

Anette Pharris took photos at the party and tried to have them developed at a nearby drug store. Drug store employees notified authorities, police said.

“Who are they to tell me what I can and can’t show to my own children?” the mother said.

Barry was a bust...

2005-05-31T21:38:00.000-07:00

This is as close as I got...

No, I did not get onstage with Barry. Apparently, he doesn't do that anymore, which is crazy to me! He has done it for every concert in the last 20 years, and when I finally have the PERFECT strategy to get up there, he changes his show. It sucked, let me tell you. We still had signs, and when my friend held one up, he blew her a kiss. And of course, I rushed the stage at one point, when I saw him start dancing with a woman in the front row. I figured if he was going to be dancing with anyone to Copacabana, it was going to be ME!!! So the best I got was him standing on the stage in front of me dancing. Big Stinking Deal - I wanted to BE ONSTAGE!!! Now I'm going to have to cross it off of my Lifetime To Do List.

Oh well, the concert was still awesome and Vegas was an absolute blast! Believe me, I have a couple of stories that I will be posting as soon as I fully recover! ;)

Blogging Brilliance 5.26.05

2005-05-26T21:30:00.000-07:00

Okay.......I came clean with the Barry Manilow thing. Talk about puking up the deep dark secret. So what is yours?

WHAT IS YOUR GUILTY PLEASURE? THE ONE THING THAT MOST PEOPLE WOULD PROBABLY MAKE FUN OF, IF THEY KNEW?

Come on...we're (mostly) anonymous here...Spill it!

(By the way, I finished my signs tonight...They're AWESOME!!!)