Monday, September 13, 2004

Septmeber 11th

I'm sure lots of blog entried have been written about 9/11 this weekend. Here's another one.

9/11/01 will forever live in all American's hearts. The day and the days after it seem surreal now. I was living with Grandma at the time and she was out of the country on vacation. I had the day off work and awoke early because of my body clock. I turned on the TV, expecting to see a regular show and saw instead news. I quickly flipped channels and when I learned of what was going on I was shocked. Just dumbfounded. I watched as the second plane hit the tower and the plane that crashed into the Pentagon. I listened as they reported a plane crashing in Pennsylvania.

I didn't know what to do. What should one do? I called my Mom at work and asked if she knew about what was going on and she did. I relayed more details as they were getting the news second hand from people walking into the office. I remember telling my Mom that if they ogt the Pentagon, it was really serious. I also remember asking her how Grandma was going to get home that weekend with all the airports locked down.

I spent the next 48 hours awake, watching TV. I was literally glued to the TV converage of it. I couldn't get away from it. I would watch even though I didn't want to see those towers fall, the people jumping and the family members crying out for their loved ones. And yet, I couldn't turn the TV off. It seemed like my only connection to the world and I really needed to feel connected at that time. I couldn't sleep. I lay awake at night on the couch watching and watching the TV stations and flipping channels to see who had the "best" information. The third night I drank alcohol after dinner in the hopes that it would help me to fall asleep finally, but it didn't. By the time that Saturday came, I was so tired.

In the weeks to follow I found so many signs of a renewed Americanism. I new pride in our country and what it stands for. I smiled at the flags painted on buildings in town, the flags hung from overpasses on the highways and the symbols that everyone was wearing. But today I am dismayed at how much of that has been lost.

In the years that have followed our country has taken my steps to prevent another attach such as that. It has made many changes, good and bad, to increase our security.

I am still haunted. Haunted mostly by the thought of the service people. The firefighters, police officers, military people in the Pentagon, civil servants who rushed to the areas and into the buildings in the course of their jobs and lost their lives. 343 firemen alone in New York were killed. That's over 10 percent of the killed. Seeing their faces on documentaries made about the day. Their climb up those stairs as the rest of the building was rushing to get out. Their faces haunt me. I think they always will.

I realize that civil servants like military, police officers, firefighters, EMT's all know going into their jobs that there may come a day when they won't go home. But it becomes so real in times like that. They chose a profession that entails them to give up their life when asked for others. They chose it. They know it. They still do it. I have such admaration for them. I think that's why their faces will always haunt me.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Labor Day

As a kid I hated Labor Day.

Labor Day meant that schoolw as starting the next day and that summer was officially over. As a kid, summers ruled! Who wanted to start school again after being able to sleep as late as I wanted, play as much as I wanted and all the other cool things that come with summer.

Labor Day never meant vacations.

My Dad spent Labor Day outside working on the yard or the house or something manly. Either that or at school getting ready for school to start.

My Mom spent Labor Day watching the Jerry Lewis Telethon and canning tomatoes. Our whole house would smell like a big tomato.

Now that I'm an adult I've come to terms with Labor Day. It's another day off for me so that's good. But how do you think I spent Labor Day this year? Canning tomatoes & doing yardwork. I believe that I have not only become my Mother, but my Father as well. (sigh)

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Positive THoughts Please!!!

Anyone reading this:
This is for my internet friend Sara - please think lots of positive thoughts for her little baby boy Ethan. He's going through some rough times and needs all the help he can get.

Monday, August 30, 2004

Men & Cars

Ok, why is it that any man that I run into lately with my car (figuratively, not literally) wants to fix it? It's dying a slow death from something that I don't want to spend the money fixing. I want a new car. Is that so bad? So why is it that every man wants to tell me what I can do to fix it?

Today it was, "When did you last have the oil changed?"
Me: "I know it sounds bad, it's dying."
Him: "Seriously, when did you have the oild changed last? Want me to check it for you?"
Me: "No. It's dying, the cylinder head is cracked."
Him: "I could send you to someone to fix that."
Me: "No. It's. Dying. I. Don't. Want. To. Spend. Money. Fixing. It."
Him: "Are you sure, it's a pretty quick fix."
Me: "No thanks. I've figured this is my sign from God for a new car."

No woman is going to walk up to me a try to tell me she knows how to fix my cracked fingernail with that much passion about the subject. Why are men like this with cars? In fact why are men like this with most problems that women have? Why can't a man just listen to a woman vent about what she has going on and lend a supportive ear. Why does it have to be about 'fixing' the problem?

Do men 'vent' to their buddies about us? Is venting a woman thing? Like cramps and high heals?

Friday, August 27, 2004

Sleep, or my lack there of!

Do you think that someplace there is someone who is getting my sleep? For whatever reason, I get into these stretches where I cannot sleep all night. I think everything is going good and I lay down in bed and fall asleep - hard - for about an hours or two. Then I spend the rest of the night laying awake sondering why I can't fall back asleep.

Last night I was tired & fell asleep shortly after 10pm. I was awake by 12:30 and up until about 5am. Makes for a hard day at work. What did I do in those 4 1/2 hours? Well, watched the Olympics. thank God for those right now, at least the quality of late night TV is improved with some options to watch those. Normally I have my choice between 3 channels that are promoting the Girls Gone Wild series, 3 channels that are promoting weight loss, a couple of channels promoting how to make a lot of money and one or two channels having to do something with improving a male sex drive. Needless to say, I'm thankful for the Olympics.

I get on the internet and check the message boards that I belong to. Hoping that there is something "good" that's happened since the last time I logged on. Posting weird thoughts in the middle of the night that later on I ask myself why. I search for news that may have occurred since I fell asleep and wonder why everyone isn't doing the same thing.

Then I try to read. This is a double edged sword. At one end I hope that I have a book that I'm "into" so I can get absorbed & tire. On the other hand, if I'm "into" it too much, I spend the rest of the nigth reading it because it's so good. Can't win for trying on that one.

My last resort is to tell myself a story. I lay in bed with all the lights out, the soft whir of the fan near my head and start a story. About...anything. All I have to do is be really really detailed. I must bore myself to sleep with details! Most the time I get so involved in the story that I get lost in it and fall asleep.

Wonder which one it will be tonight?

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

The Old Post Office

I must go downtown 2-3 times a week for court for my job. Each time I park behind "The Old Post Office". Today as I was driving there it occurred to me that having grown up in this area, I knew the building as 'the old post office', yet there is no sign with that on it. There is no identifying mark that would make me know that. It hasn't been the post office since way before I was born. I call it that because my parents call it that.

There are a couple of stores in the downtown area that have pictures from the turn of the century. I love looking at those old pictures and seeing what the town used to look like. Knowing that it is has been there for a long time give me a sense of pride in it. Knowing that I am part of the history is pretty cool

Monday, August 23, 2004

Internet Dating

Yeah, I've been doing it for the last year or so. I've talked to so many men through e-mail or through the website intant messanger. Some of them end there for whatever reasons.

The Inital E-mail

I get such a rush when my cell phone beeps telling me that one of the "prospects" has e-mailed me. I think it's because I'm always hopeful that this will be the one who I'm looking for, who's looking for me in return. It's also really cool to get to know someone new.

The First Date

Ok, I don't know what is worse: A)Being really nervous on a first date. B)Having so many first dates that you no longer get nervous. Which would you pick? By now, I'm more of a B person. I've figured out that I can spend hours with someone I just met and it won't kill me. I've realized that I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. I have enough standard questions that I can fill up empty space!

Sunday, August 22, 2004

Random things

Ok, so on my way to and from my date tonight I remembered how much I love 50's/60's music. It's nostalgic - but it's not nostalgic in that it's from my youth. Well, not really - it's my Dad's music and I grew up listening to it. SO much that I can sing most of the songs. Cool really, to listen to music that your parents loved in their teens. I always wonder if they listened to a particiular song that I like and if they liked it back then. It also seems so innocent - like nothing bad would happen if all people did was listen to that music. Although I know that my parent's youth was a string of worldly tragedies and upheaval. I should listen to it more often though.

The Date

Ok, so I never know what to do in situations like this. I had a good time... but there was no spark. I've had good times before and no spark & the 2nd date told me either yes or no. But sometimes I feel like I leading a man on when I agree to a second date and then try to tell him I'm not interested. We met for a quick dinner at the food court in the mall, walked the mall and saw a movie. He paid for it all which always makes me feel guilty, even though I tried to pay. It was his first date in 12 years - first date since he and his wife were divorced 2 years ago. How's that for pressure!! I think I'll have to sleep on this and figure it out.

Oh Yeah...

And when a first date tells you that you'll be going to dinner & a movie it may mean you'll walk around the mall for an hour first. So, unlike me, wear shoes that don't create one blister on the bottom of your right foot, one blister on your big right toe and completely wear away the blister on your left big toe. Just an FYI...

Monday, August 16, 2004

Small Towns Crack Me UP!

By no means do I think I come from "the big city" and I'm all worldly. Not at all. But when you travel to a town that has a sign that says "Population 168" you realize what small town really is. In fact, I don't even know if it's considered a town. Maybe it's just a township?

Anyway, I was there for their town celebration. I'm sure there were other things that occured before we got there on Saturday. Or then again, maybe when the town is small, there is only a 1 dya celebration? Back to the celebration. There was a parade earlier that we missed, but I heard they threw candy. When we got there, the food vendors were still there, there was a band scheduled for later on and a street dance.


Coming from my area I was thinking that a swap was where people went to sell items - kind oflike a big garage sale. Nope. It was a animal swap. People from all over come to the sawp with animals to either swap out animal to animal to prevent inbreeding or to swap different animals for what they need at the time. I know you're asking yourself if this really is true and I swear I'm not making this up.

The Dance

Turns out the street dance isn't in the street because there's really only 1 street. Can't be blocking off the 1 street a town has, can we? So it's was behind the bar in town. One band sounded much like CCR, but played all kinds of music from 50's to pop to country.

But those town people and the people from surrounding towns weren't ready for us. Somehow we seemed to stick out as if we had "cityfolk" written across our foreheads. Maybe we danced differently? Maybe the fact that we were drinking something other than Miller Beer from cans. Whatever it was, we were separated from the rest of the gathering.

So one of my friends decided to be her usuall social self. She started out by going up to groups of 3 & 4 people huddled together talking to introduce herself. She may have been speaking another language. They looked at her like she was foreign and went back to their conversations. She pressed on though and finally found a group of guys to talk to. One of them dared her to go dance around a guy who was a horrible dancer & see if he would start dancing with her. Of course, can't turn down a dare and off she went. The guy did dance with her and she came back smiling because she had completed her mission.

We talked & danced the rest of the night, freqently going back to the car to get our beer. On one trip my friend pointed to a guy walking by and said, "Hey, there's the bad dancer!" and called him over. The beginnning of the conversation was good. Then she said to him, "Do you know you can't dance?" His mouth hung open, but he quickly recovered and asked he what she meant. She spent about 5 minutes telling him what a bad dancer he was and why. Then, all fo a sudden she says to he and I, "Well, it looks like you two want to hang out and talk some more alone, so I'll leave you to it." and ran off.

What am I supposed to do with that? Really what can you offer a guy who has just spent 5 minutes being isulted by your friend? Because he obviously thought he was a great dancer. So I looked up at him and said, "Don't worry about her, I'm sure you're a fine dancer." And I got, "Hey do you was to go to the next town over to a dance club?" Nope, nada, no way, un-uh, never-in-your-life. So I casually say, "No, but lets go back & find those girls." Luckily he complied.

Me to my friend: "Don't ever do that again!"
Her: "But I didn't know what else to say."
Me: "No shit, neither did I!"

The rest of the night wasn't nearly as entertaining. But I can't wait to go back again next year.

Friday, August 13, 2004

I'm hurt.

I wish I could be funny today. That I could find some humor in something that happened yesterday afternoon & evening and write about it.

The truth is, I cried myself to sleep last night. I slept for a total of 1 hour and 45 minutes. I have a raging headache at this moment.

You know how someone can say something to you and it hits a nerve and it hurts to the core? And you know that the relationship you had with this person is forever going to be different. You may forget about what was said for a period of time, but it's always there in the back of your mind. No matter how many times they apologize. No matter how much you talk about it and resolve the issue that lead to those words, it's still there.

I'm sure that this issue will be resolved. But there are 2 times in my life that I can remember being so hurt by someone that I can't ever forget. One was when I was 14 and in an argument with my Mom. The other was last night in what started out as a relaxing discussion about stupid crap with my roommate.

It ended with me walking away, tears rolling down my cheeks and falling asleep with the hiccupping sobs of crying.

Thursday, August 12, 2004

I fear becoming my Grandma.

I have some serious fears of becoming my Grandma. I know everyone (or at least everyone I know) fears becoming their mother/father. Not me, I know that I am like my Dad and I'm pretty much ok with that. But every once and a while I see that my Mom is turning into my Grandma or my Grandma does something so out there that it puts the fear of turning into her in me.

I know it's not rational. Afterall, I'm 34 and she is 79. I have a long way to go before I get to that state. Don't I?

Don't get me wrong, I love my Grandma. I am her first grandchild and I think that her and I have a special bond. Ok, maybe we have the special bond because I lived with her for 3 years. But still, we have a bond. She helped me buy my first car and she let me move in with her.

But she does have her downfalls. For instance the trash in the kitchen must be taken out nightly - in case something in it smells - because it would stick up the kitchen. Logical, right? Well, said trash must be put in the heavy duty bag in the can in the garage. Tied shut, just so, and then put into the can that is rolled to the street for collection. Oh, and nothing can go in the can that goes to the street without being double bagged because it might spill. Then you have to spend a good portion of the day cleaning out the trash can with soap, bleach and the hose. Can't have a dirty trash can.

See where I'm going with this?

The woman lives by herself and has 5 TV's on the main level of the house. Most of which will be turned on to the same program at any given time so that she can see/hear it when she's walking through the house. Did I tell you that she is deaf in one ear and really hard of hearing in the other? So all 5 TV's are at their maximum volume. Essentially, you scare the crap out of her when you walk in because the TV's are so loud that she can't hear the doorbell, you knocking or calling her name.

Did I mention that I lived with her for 3 years? Oh, I did? Ok. Just making sure.

Where was going with this?

Oh yeah, in my conversation with my Mom last night, I learned that my Grandma had hung up on my Mom in the middle of a conversation. Apparently Grandma is pissed that no one called to tell her if they were going to the upcoming family party. My Mom responds by telling her that she didn't know about it. To which my Grandma assures her that she told her at some point and my Mom probably wasn't listening. When my Mom tried to tell her that she hasn't said anything, my Grandma hung up on her.

My Mom then called me. Angry at being hung up on, I suppose. She said, "So are you going to the party or not?" To which I replied, "I didn't know about it."

My Mom's response was, "Yes, you did. I told you to leave the date open on the 4th of July when I saw you!" Rather angry reply I might add.

Hmmm, I see the similarity there between my Mom and my Grandma. And, I wonder, does my Mom see it? I think that I am so like my Dad, but am I more like my Mom that I think and just can't see it?

I hope not.

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Sometimes I really wonder.

What the hell did I do to deserve this life? Surely there has to be an easier way to get from birth to death than the path that I have chosen. But then I stop and think, no I know that there are those worse off than myself and I feel bad for thinking like that.

I feel inexplicably drawn to "P". Like no one ever before. Just when I think that I am done, I can take no more, he does something redeeming. Sadly it's happened so many times that I can no longer tell when it is a real redemption or a fake one used to bring me back.

This latest one is the hardest one. Although I'm sure that I've thought each one was the worst. This time, only after I've said that I need to be done, he's admitted that he has too much going on. "Hello!" I've been telling you that for almost 12 months. It's been the cause of me leaving more than once. Why did it take you so long to determine that I may be telling you the truth?

So, now I'm left with trying to determine if I should try it again. Do I risk the heartbreak yet again? Because although the heartbreak isn't as bad as the first time (that was brutal), it's like that song last recorded by Faith Hill, "...take another little piece of my heart baby." Each time that I let him back in and then had to tell him I'm done, he takes a little more of my heart with him.

How much of my heart am I willing to give him?

For the love of me, stop the singing.

Ever have one of those coworkers? The ones that sing? Well, I have have one that not only sings, but also mimics instruments. He is a really nice guy. but...(yeah you knew there was a but coming) he's going to drive me insane. I frequently listen to a full marching band across the hall - tuba, sax, flute and drums. band music. I didn't like band music when I was in band, I certainly don't like it at 34 years old. At one point I had made enough comments that he stopped the band music. then he started whistling. That drove me nuts. I could never figure out what he was whistling. It sounded like a song, but I couldn't place it. I made some more comments hoping that too would go away. Then it was singing. Full out singing a song at a normal talking level. Ok, enough, More comments and we're back to band music. I guess if I have to choose one, that's the one I'll live with - but I won't like it.

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Who says cutting the grass isn't fun?

Ok, it started out innocently. The grass was really long and it looked like it was going to rain. I hurried home about 5:30 and ran around pulling out all the torches to get at least the back yard mowed before it rained. After the backyard I rewarded myself with a beer. Afterall, I had just spent 45 minutes mowing and needed a reward - right?

Ok, now onto the front yard. I wrestled with the hose to get it rolled up off the lawn and started mowing. Halfway through I started feeling drops of rain. CRAP. I hurried through the rest of the mowing. Again, I rewarded myself with a beer. I had just accomplished a great deal in an hour and a half and needed that reward.

Hmmm, what to do now? Throw the ball to the dog. Ok, well, I should have a beer with me to do that. Right? Sure - I was thirsty and it tasted pretty good.

Somehow between 7-8:30 I had consumed 4 more beers. At this point I was on the patio talking with Stacy about the house and what projects we should/could tackle soon. I mentioned that I'd like to get the bushes trimmed soon. I tried trimming them about a month ago in the front yard. They're hard to trim by yourself. You have to cut & stand back to see where to cut next and then go in for the cut & go back. Such a process.

Stacy said we should just trim them now. Sure! Good idea, afterall, we're just sitting talking. So she gets the bush trimmer and I start in on the first bush. When I make my first cut, it registers that I've had 7 beers and maybe me with a cutting instrument isn't a good idea, but I brush it off and continue. Cut. Cut. Cut. I cut where Stacy tells me to and it turns out ok, at least ok while on 7 beers. On to the next one. Stacy is cutting and the trimmer's battery is dying and my direction isn't so great. There are big areas in the sides that need more cutting and one spot in the front that's pretty bare. Oh well. We go through another bush and at this point, the trimmer is dead. We'll finish tomorrow.

Hmm, those bushes are crooked, bare & ugly! Spots are trimmed way to much and other areas are poking out with branches. I'm really glad they're in the backyard and no one but us can see them. Further trimming is not going to help these things.

Sunday, August 08, 2004

Del's Hair

It was a really quiet day, until about 7:30. That's when someone opened the garage door & banged on the door to the house. Not many people have the code to open the door, so I wasn't really scared of burglars or anything. It was the sudden loud banging on the GLASS DOOR that freaked me out. Stacy and I came out as the garage door was closing with what I'm assuming was much the same look of astonishment on our faces.

I pushed the button to open the door back up and there was Sherri and Del. I wish I had a video camera (and I'll say that many more times). Sherri was drunk and in the 8 or so years that I've known her, I've only seen her drunk one other time. She's so controlled and and so exact that it takes a lot for her to let loose - and let loose she had. She and Del and intended on biking all day, but it started to rain and they changed plans to hit every tiny bar on the way home. When Stacy asked Sherri what got into her to drink she kept replying, "Beer!" Hmmm, obviously beer, but what started it? "Beer!" She reminded me of a parrot, repeating the same phrase.

Sherri sat in the kitchen asking for food. When I asked her what she wanted, her reply was, "I need carbs. got and chicken wings?" Ok, I'm not a food expert here, but I don't think chicken falls into the carb family. She ended up eating the rest of the cheese bread I had for dinner.

At that point Del asked if we would cut his hair. Really. Cut His Hair. Del, the 40 something guy who still has the 70's hair. In fact we secretly refer to it as 70's porn star hair. I immediately said no. Stacy and Shane jumped on it though. Stacy got out he new Ikea scissors I bought last week, the huge ones and said she'd do it. I suggested that since we had consumed a beer a piece and it looked that that would continue, she use the small or even medium ones and refrain from cutting any Del parts off with the huge ones.

So, beers in hang, KQ on the radio, we go into the garage to begin the cutting. At this point I'm convinced Del is crazy. No one in their right mind would ask some almost drunk friends to cut their hair - right? Del puts on one of Shane's t-shirts because we have no hair cutting cape like Great Clips. he sits down in the chair and looks up expectantly at the three of us. Again I'm thinking that I really need to have a video camera. This is too good to miss, but I guess memory and still photographs will have to do.

For the next hour we go at Del's hair. Stacy in what I call the 'stab & cut' method. She's stand behind/beside him and spy a piece of hair that shouldn't be there and quickly put the scissors in for the cut & pull back just as quick. Shane on the other hand was more gentle. He would put his hand under Del's chain (because he was looking at the floor the whole time) and push it up. Then he'd take one hand and pull hair up, much like a hair dresser, and cut the whole section of hair.

After about an hour of cutting we pronounced it complete. Del went and looked at it and sit he liked it. Some part of me thinks that he regretted cutting it as he kept saying, "It grows back so fast." over and over again.

Sunday, August 01, 2004

Here it is...

Sometimes things come out of my brain and I can't believe it. Did I really say/think/feel that?