Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanza & Feliz Navidad!

I love this time of year. Everyone is as nice as I am, we smile more, we give you eye contact and we don't have scowls on our faces. The promise of the holidays and what it could bring, make us all so giddy. Every person turns into a child again. I like it! However, I do disagree with people who ask why we can't be this nice year round? DUH! Then it wouldn't be a special time of year, hell-o! Kids are more kind and sweet than normal, (hey, my kids are fabulous year round, but I do know there are some brats) the decorations that people adorn their houses with are so lovely, usually. Even the tacky ones we enjoy and call 'The Griswald House". Ah Chevy Chase as Clark Griswald, hee hee. Even great movies that we all love come out, "Elf", "The Ref", "Christmas Vacation", and then those old arse shows we all have been watching since our parents were in their 20's. "Rudolph", "Santa Clause is Coming To Town", you get the idea. As I get older, I really come to understand that it's not how many gifts you can purchase, but how many hearts you can touch. (that's for my needy Leo's, and you know who you are). I have great friends, livable family, and even an ex husband that I don't want to throw darts at, life is good! May the season grant you all the wonders you give!

My Birthday Celebration!

I love this time of year. Once I get over turning another year older, I throughly enjoy getting ready for the festivities this time of year brings. Ok, so back to my birthday! If you didn't know, it's a National Holiday, (fine, it should be). This year I had quite a lot of friends turn out for my special evening. We went to 37 Main, and the Bon Jovi Tribute Band, "Slippery When Wet" played for us. I will admit, I don't think I've been that 'toasted' maybe ever. Holy moly! I was standing front and center of the stage, watching the band. I know by now the lead singer Jason must know that I'm no longer a stalker. When I first saw them, I went everytime they were near me. And yes, I did drool, but hey, Jason looks a great deal like Jon Bon Jovi, and they are both hot, what's not to love? Anyhoo, they sang all the good songs, the bassist told me Happy Birthday, apparently he could tell due to my tiara, who knew? And then Jason wished me Happy Birthday as well. I was a happy camper. Thankfully, we did take a taxi home. I turned into Kim Kardashian while I was speaking AND I pawed the cop watching the joint. I know, I know, I would have annoyed myself, but Shelly and Deb were true sisters, they just laughed. Thanks ladies!

The Muppets!

I adore, no I'm absolutely in love with Miss Piggy. She has been my idol since she first appeared on my television set 100 years ago. She has strength, power, class, beautiful hair and makeup, fantastic clothes that would make Barbie jealous, and alas, she had the love of her life, Kermie. Thankfully, our taste in men differ, although I'm sure my friends would disagree...I'm really not into smaller, green, squeaky voiced boyfriends, but hey, it works for her. Unlike Miss P, I want a man who is larger/bigger than me, taller than me, doesn't need to be better looking..heehee..but not someone I could toss if I got mad enough. Not that I'm a violent person, but if I get pissed off with a boyfriend, it rarely is a pretty sight. My family does not call me "Ice Princess" for nothing. Anyhoo, Miss P and her gang are coming back to the big screen. Thank you Jason Segel, he made it happen. Interesting to note, both Miss Piggy and Scarlett O'Hara were role models of mine when I was younger. Scarlett was a lady but if she got mad, well 'fiddily dee' there was hell to pay, poor Rhett. Miss P, on the other hand, well if Kermie did not make her happy, there was hell to pay..wait, does anyone else see a theme here? Yes, what we fabulous ladies all have in common is...wait for it....accountability. If you mess up, and you know you do, we will call you out like a coach calls out a worthless pitcher. That's right! And to be honest, I don't see why that's a bad thing. We should all be empowered to be who we want to be, and act in a firm yet polite manner. I know Miss P wasn't necessarily that, I mean she could whack a frog or whatever Gonzo is, to the wall, but she did make her point. Have I?

15 days since my last confession

Today at work, we had a Tornado warning that kept us in a hallway....with other co-workers...for a freaking hour. Yes, you read that right, a full 60 minutes of being in a subwayish tube. We had people lined up on one side and people lined up on the other side. Some stayed in the middle, but me and my friend were on the side chit chatting. As I sat there listening to the buzz of convo's around me, I couldn't help but ask myself, 'is this all I have accomplished'?

This past weekend, I had a pity party for myself. I am usually not the one who needs picking up. However, there I was driving to my gurl's house to walk her pretty doggies, and I drove through the hot spot of Auburn, Carl and hold on! Winder.

For those who don't live here, picture 'Deliverance' except scenery gets worse as you drive. So there I was thinking about how much I have in savings, (almost none), how much I had in my checking account, not enough to fill my little Toyota and my birthday is coming up, which means yet, another year older. Lucky me. Fall is also a time when I used to have an on-off relationship but that ended 6 years ago. I'm fine with that being done, but I couldn't help but think I have not progressed much since then. I still work at the same company, (love it), same job more or less, same car, house etc. I am almost 801 years old, and other than my two beautiful, thoughtful, bouncers for sons, I have no accomplishments. As I sat there in the hall today, I thought, hmmmm, maybe a higher being is trying to tell me something.But what I ask? Unless I finish my degree there is no jumping up my current corporate ladder, I really have no interest in going back to school anyway. Next option, I take care of my pets, but do I want to have a 'pet sitting' job? highly unlikely. I love blogging, but I was told by Shelly and Deb that my run on sentences are annoying and I need to work on them. (how am I doing so far?) So that leaves me with what? Good question, when I find out, I will share with you all.

Bullies PART 2

My first born just doesn't get how some people are easy skinny. And I have talked with him and my ex regarding razzing on my other son. they wouldn't think of saying something to a person at school or on the street, because they don't find that 'acceptable or kind' um, making your brother feel like crap is also not part of the 'big brother' code either. He looks to you for guidance, not insecurity. Especially in this world as is it now, we need to love our family and friends, treat people with respect, generosity, kindness. It shouldn't be just for strangers, start at home. It breaks my heart when number two says something, while fluffing it off as them 'joking'. My ex doesn't joke, at least he says things with medical meaning vs his brother who is just down right cruel sometimes. Ok, ok, I MAY tend to be a smidgen sensitive about the issue, I used to get called names when I was younger by idiot schoolmates. But never, ever, by my blood. I also don't want you who read this, to think that number 2's life is a living hell, it's not, and he knows they both love him, and want him to succeed. Number 1 has number 2's back if outside forces attack. But dayum son, you break my heart when you do this to your brother and you don't have to.....Please rethink your comments and if you need to make any, make them constructive, helpful, encouraging. Because that's what you would do for a friend or outsider, and you know it....I might even be PMSing, but dang it, don't pick on momma's baby!

Bullies PART 1

There are bullies we know from school, bullies on the street/club and even, in our homes. As you know, I have two amazing sons, different in a lot of ways, but generally very compassionate. Having said that, my youngest came home today and told me 'he wants to lose weight'. Let me give you some background on my 'spare' son. He came in at a whopping 10 pounds 15 ounces, 22 inches long, via c-section, thank you baby Jesus. So we just knew this was my Gator linebacker, hurrah! Number one son was 7 lbs, 9oz and 19 inches long, scrawny. I didn't eat any different with either of them, in fact, I wasn't as hungry with the 'sack of taters' my ex used to call him that, so I actually lost weight being pregnant with him. Score! So my point is this, number one is 18 years old, 6'3 inches, and skinny. I compare him to Edward Cullen. Beloved number two, is 14 years old, 6'2 inches and still growing, but thicker. I wouldn't call him fat, just growing into his size. He doesn't have rolls, look like he needs to be on Biggest Loser, or even sit around and eat all day long. When he hit puberty is when the little extra came on. I tried explaining that to number 1, and his reply is always 'I was only like that for 1 summer'. Ok bravo, good for you. You didn't get your mummy's 'chubby' gene, not that number 2 is chubby. Not going to lie, every one on my side, minus my dad, has had weight issues. We were not all graced with the size 2 bodies. My sister is 2 inches shorter, built like Jessica Rabbit, but is not fat. I am broader in shoulders so I look heavier even when I lose weight. My mum has always been watching her weight, it's just how it is. We don't bully, belittle or make each other feel like crap, about weight. If you do something wrong, BELIEVE YOU ME, you will be called out. But I digress. My ex and number 1 tend to make number 2 feel like crap because he is bigger. My ex has always lifted weights, so he is not a small man, but he isn't chubby either, even now at his advanced age. (hee hee)

I had a party....

Last Saturday, I had a cookout. I haven't had a part-tay in a few years, so I gathered my Buford Shore babes, my hilarious friends, and my girls that I hang with  Twas a lovely October afternoon/evening. Buford Shore Matthew, invited peeps he knew, so we had more than expected, but since I knew most of them, and nothing is missing from the house, all was well. My friend Baab brought brisket that was to die for, seriously, it would cure the war issue. Baab makes me laugh like few do. He is so quick with the wit, sarcastic, funny and does a mean Ethel Merman. My newly pregnant couple Cate and Andrew came up from J-ville. That was a big treat as most of us have not seen them since they left in August. You really feel how much people mean to you, when they come visit. Anyhoo, as the night wore on, it got a tad chilly, so I broke out the bonfire. My back yard is big enough to create a pit, and as luck would have it, a tree limb or 3 fell down a few days before, so even more wood for our fire. My friend G tended to the fire and kept us all warm and toasty, darn me for not picking up marshmallow's, next time. The Buford Shore tore, yes I did say tore, the attached fallen limbs and kept our fire snugly. I put white lights in my pine tree limbs, you know, for ambiance, and I had my Ipod jamming from Country, to Rock, to 80's and 90's dance music. All was lovely and then this femme fatale that Matthew is sharing bed space with, showed up. She was nice and quiet, initially, then they ran to another party for about an hour or so, and when they came back, WHOA NELLY! Out came obnoxiously drunk cougar. But like I said, she started off nice. I have some really unique friends who mean a lot to me. And whenever any of the Buford Shore is ready to tear down my deck and rebuild it, I have the food and beer for payment......

Rock of Love Came to Wild Bills Friday Night!

My posse and I went to WB's Friday night for Bret Freaking Michaels, yes, that's right, BM. He rocked it like it was 1990 baby. He was energetic, sang all the hits, and was as nice a guy as we all saw in the ROL trilogy. I haven't seen a crowd that large in some time. My friend Amby got us 4 passes, and then Deb, Shelly and I just watched the horror unfold. Some of the girls there looked like it was a casting call for ROL. WB's is usually a good time and the last time we all went these cubs were hitting on us. Entertaining as all get out, but you really don't want to tell us group of ladies you are a detective and then be shocked when none of us believe you. Especially since Amby knows quite a few police personnel and she starts asking you for exact location of your precinct and who do you know, etc. I almost felt bad for little cubby, notice I said almost. When you are wearing a douche bag outfit, and trying to be taller than us, which is hard, Amby alone is 5'10 and then she puts on the stripper heels, good luck baby. None of us are gullible either, OK fine, sometimes I am, but even I knew him being a detective was a crock. Stevie Wonder could see that lie. Even more knee slapping was the way some of the coupled girls dressed. Good lord, even when I was married I never looked that bad. These girls obviously don't own mirrors or blow dryers. Have some pride in yourself ladies, and you won't have to wonder why your man is looking around at the beauties who do have some vanity.

Men Intimidated????

Over the years, I've had friends in the dating pool. One of the 'go to' lines I hear them say, when a guy hasn't returned their call, or shown the right amount of interest, has been "he's intimidated by me." Yeah, sorry, NO, this is not the case. If this was true no woman would ever have a date, get married, divorced, or laid. Come on. I don't know who originally came up with this, perhaps Mother Theresa, I mean there was a reason she was a nun, not too cute to look at, but guys are not intimidated by much. And if they were by girls, would we want to date those men anyway? Um, big fat NO. I have dated in recent years, and quite honestly, if you can't take my smart mouth, you are not the guy for me. And my sister and friends would eat you up. And no, I don't miraculously change once we sleep together. Why do people feel the need to change someone they are dating? Excuse me, if you liked my personality before, and I haven't changed it, why are you wanting to change it now? No girl wants the 'whatever you say' guy, if she does she means every once in awhile or when she is trying to get her way. I dated this one boyfriend on and off for about 5 years. The first time we dated, I dated him to get over another guy. My lead male friend said this was the way to get over a love. Anyhoo, Xbf was a 'yes' man the first time. After about two weeks of getting my way, I was done. Look, if I can walk all over you? I'm bored and you are no longer my chew toy. We ladies also don't like the 'my way or the highway' guy either. We like the guy who puts us in our place, but still lets us be who we are. We want the 'give and take' guy. In my case, if I should happen to make a smart ass comment, at your expense, I am inviting you to join my volley. If you let it whiz past you, it will be ok for a few, but then, you've lost my interest and I am looking for the next hunk of love to spar with. I hope you all know that when I say 'spar', 'volley' I am talking conversation wise, I am not into being hit, and I don't know any who are, unless it's for a specific game,  and you all know what I mean. :)

The birds and the bees

My mum is a nurse. So when it came for the Sex talk, she brought out the big guns. She had this 3 sided information board, with pictures for your embarrassment. Now she would probably do it via Power Point, so I should be thankful. I was barely listening for this talk because it was beyond horrifying. I would have rather been decapitated than listening to her tell me, 'woman's va ja-ja' and a "mans penis". I mean come on. I will tell you, I'm not one of those girls who sits around with her girls and discusses sex either. Unless, I've had a few cocktails with shots, then all bets are off. Over the years I have had several group of girls who would just say stuff about their sex life and I would try not to have the deer in headlight look. Thankfully, I have one of my besties who's right there with me so I'm not the odd girl out, unless she isn't there and then it's "oh, wow, look at the time!" My mum was very pleased when my sister would want to discuss her body, sex , boys etc with her. Even now I want to run. They found great pleasure coming into my bedroom, flopping on the bed and bringing it up while I was getting ready to go out. Really people? Ew. My mum would ask 'what are you going to do when you have children?' My answer was always the same, that's what their dad is for. 'What about girls?' She will have you and your deranged daughter to scare the bejesus out of. I have two boys, and over the years, I would say 'hey, you have any questions you want mommy to answer' and thankfully they always said "NO!" But they know that if they have 'girl' questions mummy is here. Their dad talks with them, god knows I have no clue knowing what it's like to have a hard on in class, or a woody when I wake up. The beauty of being a girl, no one can see if you're turned on. lol....Both of them had "Health" class in middle school that pretty much scared the living hell out of them so we were both off the hook with approaching the subject. Sometimes when they do give me grief, I think, hmmmm, these two need a sex education class with GRANDMA, then they will appreciate how I say nothing. Perhaps I should work on that for Spencer's 14th birthday coming up. I will tell my mum to get working on that Power Point for them. hahahahahahahahahahah

Boobs

So I was mowing the lawn and this hornet had the audacity to sting me. The nerve! This got me to thinking about boobs. Wait for it, it will connect in just a sec. Remember when we were little and people would call our "boobs" mosquito bites? (see how I did that, insects) Ok, so I realized that I was more than blessed at a very young age. I was in 3rd grade, yes people 3rd grade, and my teacher pulled me out of the classroom to tell me that my mom needed to take me shopping for a bra. SAY WHAT??? Imagine the horror I felt going back into the class after being told my white shirt was see through. M-hm, I know what you are thinking, well I know what the guys are thinking. That night my mum gleefully took me shopping. I say gleefully because I dressed very plain. We lived in South Florida, again hot. I would wear shorts and a matching top. My mum told me later that one of my teachers told her she feared I would be gay, due to the manly way I dressed. Really homophobe? I was not a dress type of girl, and especially if I was playing, who needs the torment of some boy seeing your underpants. Ick. Anyway, I believe we ended up at Sears, where they had a woman who would actually fit you for a bra. Again, imagine the horror. Not only do I not want my mother to see me topless but now this complete stranger was measuring me. And rest assured, we weren't talking training bra here, oh noooo, we were too large for a trainer like normal girls. Ok, fast forward to high school, I was a swimmer and there is nothing like hearing the boys talk about your 'natural flotation devices' when you placed in a race. That was lovely. One of my fave comments from my mum, we were getting yet another bra with precise measurement, and she told the woman that we didn't know from Adam, almost apologetically, that the reason my shoulders were so broad was due to my swimming the "butterfly". "Fly" and "backstroke" were my two best swims. And as I look at swimmers you can tell when the "fly" is their best stroke, they are  "broad as a barn" another motherism.

Issues, we all have them....

When I was little, before 10, I still had my witch of a great-grandmother, on my mother's side. She was mean, rude, nasty and she had a moustache. Bitter, yes. I don't recall any other defining moment when I felt I may be a little thick, then when this blind witch, asked me to come near her and give her my hands. From my hands this hag had the gall to call me fat. I of course, went running to MY beloved grandmother, her daughter, and cried. My loving grandmother told me 'ignore her, she's an old woman' or something to that effect. However, I now knew that I was not skinny. Too young for someone to develop insecurity issues if you ask me. So this hag not only started my path of self doubt she also had the nerve to die in my bed. She came for a visit when my sister was born. All she wanted to do was hold her great-grandaughter, she probably thought Deb was thin coming in at 7 pounds 11 ounces, but I digress. She comes for a visit, lucky me got to give up my bed for Cript Teller, and she promptly dies. My fantastically amusing parents kept telling me she wasn't dead, she was unconscious. Guess what? I'm not an idiot. That furry hag was DEAD. And you know what? Pssh, I did not feel bad about it, at all, and I still don't. You might think I hold grudges or animosity towards her, if you knew me you'd know I do hold grudges, so beware, but I really don't think much about it. She was an evil, diabetic, troll who felt the need to abuse me. She wasn't so kind to my mother, her granddaughter either. I could talk about mum's issues, but hey, let bygones be bygones, right? I tell my kids, if anyone ever tells you such a nasty thing, they have my permission to tell her to go shave. Or whatever applies to their situation. She was lucky that I never tampered with her diabetic medicine they left out on the dresser, or did I???? just kidding, I'm not a murder...It's not a very Princessy thing to do. Plus, who wants to go to jail and be some butch lesbian's bitch? um, no thank you. So if any of you have a sweet, tender story like mine, let's all let it go together. However, I do enjoy bringing her up at the dinner table and laughing like a hyena about it.

Everyday I'm shufflin

For the last week or so, since my gurl Shelly told us a story about that song from LMFAO the group, I usually wake up singing it. It's quite catchy if you haven't heard it. (note to Keith, it's not by the guy in the Dr Pepper ad). So this past Sunday, Shelly and I hung with our Buford Shore hottie, Matthew. He was at a sports bar watching his beloved Steelers and we are girls who like beer and football, so it was obviously a good match. I lived in Pittsburgh for about a year, and thanks to TMI from Mum, that's where Debra was conceived. All together now, ewwwwwwww. Anyhoo, Matthew is a fun fellow, not yet 30, no steady relationship, since he got out of an eternity length one, and ready to go anytime you say so. Matthew, Buford Shore, is built like he works out all day long every day, he smokes and drinks, and has this raspy voice. I found out from his stepfather, he has always been like this, has always sounded like that. I almost wanted to ask if his mother smoked while he was in utero, but you know, didn't want to be TOO nosey. Matthew's stepfather was a nice enough guy, and apparently I struck his fancy. I know what you are thinking, lucky you? yeah, no. Nice enough guy, but no thank you. Matthew is a good wing guy though, he never let his dad get too touchy or too close without coming over. We had this sweet, kind and pretty server. Shelly and I were really putting in the good words for Matthew too. Turns out she knows Matthew from a friend. However, she still was keeping an open mind about talking to him. We got his back, told her what a greay guy he was, yes he talks smack but is a really good guy. Matthew came up with a new slogan as well, and while not really clean, it is funny as heck. I almost spewed my beer out laughing. Oh, and we made one patron leave our area. We were either too loud, too raunchy, or too cute. You pick. Matthew and Shelly enjoy talking about sex, anywhere, everywhere all freakin day long. I finally had to throw back a few SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOTS just to stop being embarrassed. I think you can like sex, but you don't have to talk about it all the time. But together, they are unstoppable. If I were a virgin, they would scare me.

I love Fall and this is why:

I have always loved the cooler temps. When I was growing up in South Florida, I think it was due to my naturally wavy and thick hair would actually look human. Humidity and my hair are not friends. BUT with the cooler temps, I could style and blow dry and voila, not half bad. Now I can flatiron it but you know I'm old, so they didn't have that when I was growing up. The good thing about Atlanta is you get all four seasons. Florida gave us two. Hot and Hotter. We are in the middle of September and the temps are cooler, the breeze is fuller and the leaves are wildly colorful. Ahhh such bliss. I always say that the cooler weather goes better with my personality. Not going to lie, if I don't like you, it's not a secret. Subtlely at it's best. My ex used to have a dream of running for office, I was scared they weren't going to let me be, but drag me out for the dog and pony show. I don't lie, and again I can't fake it if I don't like you, respect you, want to beat your face in. Thanfully, I was not chosen for that path. I would say my personality is warm and friendly, IF I already know you. My sister and a few friends could talk to the wall and make friends with it. I'm a little more subjective to whom I allow in my space or my life. I would say I'm more catlike. I pick you, you do not pick me. That may sound snobbish but it isn't like that either. You could have a lot of money, be beautiful on the outside, compliment me all day long, but if I don't trust you, want you near me or like you around, it ain't happening. I'm more intuitive as well. There have been many a person that my friends would be so excited about and I would meet them and in 5 seconds know if they were good or not. You know what I'm talking about, right? You meet someone and your antenna goes up? Or you get a bad feeling about them? That's your intuition telling you, 'um no, we will pass on this freak.' So listen next time!

Football?? Yes please!

I have to say, I don't understand why some girls don't appreciate football. What's not to love? You have big, beefy guys, in a spandex/lycra mix pant, hot and sweaty. Need I say more? Baseball? B-o-r-i-n-g. You sit there waiting, praying for excitement, if you're lucky, something breaks in the 7th inning. Yawn. When my baby daddy and I lived in Southern Cali, we attended more than I care to admit, Dodger games. The last time I went, I took a few magazines, got my beer and Dodger dog and by the 3rd inning I was ready to hang myself. My dad is a huge Dodger fan, and this particular game was so boring that even my Ex said "let's go." Or I finally won with my continual sighs of boredom and he caught on. We are out of the stadium and all of the sudden the crowd roars. Turns out the Dodgers had a big play and ended up winning that game. My dad was so upset they were losing, until he heard about my leaving and their sudden turn, he banned me from Dodger Stadium. I don't think I ever thanked him for that, so dad "Thank you for not making me suffer anymore."

My friends and I are big football fans. Pro and especially college. My family are Florida Gator fans. I know, I know, those who know us had no clue, we are stealth that way. Everytime my parents come to visit, I fear for our lives. My father's "vehicle" is covered in Gator stuff. And in my town, UGA rules, sooooo you can see my fear. And my dad is not a quiet fan, if you make a comment about the Gators, (he is always wearing a Gator shirt), God help you. He will challenge your comments. The rest of us slowly walk away, not too far, but out of the line of fire. If you aren't a Gator fan, he's ok with it, but he feels sorry for your pathetic team. Again, subtlety. My fam wreaks of it. A lot of my friends don't have inner monologues either, and me? Well, OBVIOUSLY, I don't possess that quality either.

I have 2 cats, FINE I HAVE 3!

I have two cats I but found a stray that I have been feeding for nearly a year, so I guess I have three. Whatever....

It was a lovely weekend over with the Buford Shore. We only had 1 member, but hey, we like him just fine so it was all good. Sunday we went to a housewarming for my girl Shelly's mum. I made a side dish and we brought our own drinks, they had hot dogs, (spicy), pickles, (spicy), two kinds of potato salad, both were yummy. Cole slaw, my noodles, pork, rice, mac & cheese with bacon that were too good for words. Quite the nice feast. By the time we got there everyone was feeling no pain. Deb, Shelly and I were planning our exit strategy when from the heavens we hear shouting and F-bombs. I thought this was a cue. Of course, if I don't get into fights, I sure like to know why others do. I'm nosey that way, thanks mum. Apparently, one guy was sick of hearing BS of another guy and then that escalated. Ah, good friends indeed. The best part was the over 60 couple who came back in from outside smelling of pot. And I don't believe it was for medicinal reasons either. I'm not a detective, but I firmly believe I am correct in this assumption. Shelly's mum had muscle relaxer pills on the table, and I wanted each of us to have some to go, but our morals told us no. Rude.

 Next weekend is my father's birthday, AND a Gator game. Can you say Yahtzee? As always, I will keep you all posted. Have a grand week.

Is that a Lesbian League?

This past weekend, like most weekends in the summer, I was chilling with my villains at the pool. Since I worked for a few hours Saturday, most of the Buford Shore was there. I call them this because they are all huge, muscle rippling hotties who drink beer and laugh at my friends and I. What's not to love? I arrive at the pool and it's hotter than freaking Zambibia so most everyone is in the pool. My one friend is talking to the resident 'lesbian' we met also through the pool. I call her a lesbian for two reasons: 1) she is one, and 2) I can't remember her name. She has a partner who is butchier than most men I know, and can get a tad obnoxious sometimes. But again, Buford Shore was with us, so bring it ladies. The one half of the lesbian couple was there, and unbeknownst to all of us, she was a little drunky. She had a 4 pack of red wine and was on her last one. Not judging, I do beer, that's all I am pointing out. My dad drinks red wine, I know what it does to a person. Anyway, she is yapping like she is the social director and is talking faster than a speeding bullet. I am focused on getting my hot butt into the pool, and by hot I mean burning up, not being conceited. I hear her asking my friend to join her bowling league. Shelly, said friend, is hemming and hawwing and I am tryng to figure why. She was on a league before so I don't get her reticence. After about, um, 5 minutes of the lesbian begging her to be on her team, I ask "is this a lesbian league?" I'm the good friend trying to figure out why Shelly isn't wanting to bowl with her. Apparently, that was not the case, but it was a good laugh just the same.

Who says funerals are dull?

My dads family is from Montreal, Canada, eh? My BaBa and DziDzi, Ukrainian for grandma and grandpa, spoke Russian, Polish, little English, but mostly Ukranian. My dad did not share this language with my sister or myself, so when my Baba died, we hiked our cookies back to Montreal for the funeral. All my dads family was still there at the time and I guess it was a little inconvenient for them to bring all that pomp and circumstance down to the South, but whatever! Now, I will tell you that at the time, this was the first real funeral we had been to. It was open casket, naturally, and my sister and I kept poking and getting up close to Baba waiting for her to sit up and say "gotcha!" It never happened, but who's to say it couldn't have? My Baba was a beautiful woman. She was very fair, blonde, with amazing blue eyes. And she used to wear a turban, you know before turbans were affiliated with terrorists. After the viewing, so gross I cannot even tell you, this is why I am to be cremated. I don't want my grandkids waiting for me to sit up or grab them. Nightmares I tell you.
Anyway, we walk across the street to this very grand Orthodox Ukranian church. Very ornate, very beautiful and did I mention it was Ukranian? So, since us Americans didn't know Ukranian we were fairly lost. I would look to my cousins for when to stand, when to pray, when to not laugh. It's customary that when the Grandmother passes, all the granddaughters stand by the casket and hold a candle, not a fake candle, but real live fire. I don't know if I have mentioned this before, but I have the attention span of a gnat. Maybe even less. In meetings, I am counting tiles on the ceiling within 5 minutes.

Ok, so here we all are. My cousin Jennifer, my sister Debra, my cousin Darlene and Moi. Now, mind you I don't speak Ukranian, there is incense being thrown around, I'm trying to occupy my time and not disappoint my dad with my fidgeting. I'm looking at the glass windows, the decorations, very gold I might add, when the next thing I know, my sister is beating my head. Turns out while I was admiring the beauty of the church, I had let my hair too close to the candle and voila, I'm doing my best Michael Jackson impression.

Therapy by lawn mower

I am not going to lie, I love mowing my 3/4 acre yard. I do some great thinking while I'm out there sweating like a Cambodian prisoner. I believe if every Head of State/Country, mowed their lawns, great things could happen. I solve all my issues, right wrongs in others lives, heck, I can even figure out the square root of Pi, all while mowing. The solace I get once I put in my ear plugs, slap on my yard gloves, it's pure heaven. Really. When I was living at home with the "units", doing lawn work was on the lowest of the low of fun things to do. I have two sons, and if I paid them, or threatened their life, they would mow it, but I like the exercise, the sense of accomplishment I get from pushing that mower around. It takes me about 1.5 hours, but it can't be beat.  I focus on my task and then think of how to solve the worlds problems. On a really hot & sticky day, you can feel like you are cheating death by heart attack. Push yourself to see how much sweat you can lose, or how many more rows you can do before you take a drink. Sometimes, I can almost hear Death breathing on my neck. But I win everytime. So would you all!

Losing Weight Is Never Easy

When you start out being the "Pretty One" in the family, you only have one way to go. I have always been a tad on the thick side, not obese, but definately have some chubb. When I first divorced, I lost about 20 pounds really easy, and kept it off for about 7 years. I would walk, maybe skip a dinner here and there, and I was ok. Also, if I knew I had something to get ready for, I could really cut back eating a few days prior and voila, pounds be gone. Not after you hit 40ish. I say "ish" because I was early 40's and still ok. So I am always looking out for ways to correct my eating, or getting help. I eat good foods to begin with, so it's not my diet. I don't fry foods, I bake, grill or steam. The only thing fried I do eat are french fries, and it's not like I eat them every day all day long. I cut out dinners early in the process by accident. I would work late and not want to eat after 7 at night. Then my kids, who were younger obviously, would not want to eat dinner since mummy didn't. I didn't want DFACS calling on me, so I would eat smaller portions of the meals I fixed for them. And again, early 40's we were good. Now that I am closer to 50 than 40, my body is like 'yeah, I'm done trying to burn weight off chubby'.

 Two weeks ago I purchased the next 'cure' for fatness. I got some HCG drops and vitamin B12 drops. The trick with this cure is that it makes your body feel as if you are pregnant, restarts your metabolism and you don't even have to exercise like a banshee for the pounds to shed. My stomach in the last two weeks, well, it looks like I'm pregnant, so that part worked, but since I'm celibate and have been for say 6 years, and don't remember aliens invading my body, other than the drops, no pregnancy here. Plus, it's not a look I was going for at this point. I have aged well, as have most of my friends. I saw them last year at a high school reunion and couldn't believe how great we all looked. So happy day there. But, I want to get back to my smaller size and not have to starve myself or go to the gym 24 hours a day to do so. I had been sick and not really wanting to exercise, but still, the weight I've gained I know I can thank the drops for. I'm told the shots fare better, but are way pricier. I am on a budget.

My point is this, I guess, when you are marked as pretty, and it starts to fade, even a little, or you get jowly, it's not a happy place. And when one doesn't have celebrity money to hire chefs or personal trainers, it's a chore. My sister had it easier, she was the ugly duckling (her words) that grew into the swan. Well, she is still swan like and some of her friends look like Barbie's. I'm not kidding, they do. I almost wanted to poke them to see if they were real.

 To make sure my sons never have this stigma, I telll them how stupid and ugly they are daily. Just kidding. My two princes are the most handsome and the smartest 13 & 18 year olds I know.

Weekend in Chattanooga, whoop!

Now don't get too excited, this is a G rated story. My sister, kids and I went up this past weekend to celebrate our mother's birthday. I'm not going to share her age, but just know, it's old, but you would never guess her age. Anyhoo, we zoomed up in sister's vehicle. I will say this for German cars, as a driver they rock, when you are 6'3 or over an oompa loompa height, not so much. Smooth none the less, and I could read or play my Iphone games, so no complaining for me.

Our story begins with giving the birthday girl her gifts. I, like most people, either recycle my gift bags, or I purchase to store them for later use. Such is the case with mum's gift. When she got to the end, mum asked me where I got this lovely bag from, I told her and then she shared it not only held her gift, but a roach carcass as well. I'm thinking, bonus, where's the chocolate? however, she didn't feel as excited, but it was good humor and my sister's bag offered no dead insects, so it was obvious my gift won. I gave her this great 'sippy' cup we sell at work. It's 24oz and it doesn't sweat for cold or burn for hot liquid. AND it has a lid. As we age we need these things, I'm not quite that elderly and I appreciate a good top on my drinks. Fade to dinner with all of us. Mum picked the eatery and all of us liked it, unusual as my second son isn't as easy to please when we dine out. BK was not an option for grandma. Dinner was yummy, our server Tim, seemed scared of our table, but we are used to that. My mother can be quite the handful when she goes out. Somewhat demanding. She asked Tim for butter I don't know how many times, and when he finally brought it back, it was a huge plate stocked full of butter pats. Take that birthday girl. And don't worry about waste, she stuffed the butter pats in her purse and they surfaced on our breakfast table. Imagine our horror. (This is me rolling my eyes, with a big open mouth) Now my children know that not only are their grandparents crazy, they steal too. Great lesson! In our family we have several convo's happening at once. We don't find this unusual but outsiders do. Since my dad and us girls had hearing problems, there was a lot of "what?" going on as we grew up. Now, we just spin our heads around like Linda Blair. This convo was no exception. We are busy chatting away, paying the bill, etc. When my dad, who at this point is standing up because he is ready to go, duh, said, "did you hear about Michael Vick?" we all stopped and looked at him, like he just said Beetlegeuse. To which all of us replied "WHAT????" We said the word Dick and he heard Vick and there we are. Perhaps you had to be there.....

How I adore my family

As much as I may complain about my parents, I would not trade them for another pair. They made me who I am, who my sister is. Without them, we wouldn't be these amazingly funny, self deprecating, strong women. I know in my past, some men had issue with this, but if you are strong enough in yourself then you can take a strong woman beside you. I am raising my two sons to be strong, independent young men. And so far so good. Both are hilarious, and they "get" the family and appreciate it for what it is. A loving, sometimes disfunctional, but always there for you, unit. You can't ask for more than that. We all have our faults, not me of course, but them. And we either accept this or we don't. Just like with friends or people we meet day to day. A true friend loves you for your faults, but still stands by you when needed. I know I have faultered on that in the past. I hold my friends up to such high standards, that when I think they disappoint me, which again, it's only my view, I get sad for them. I think they are so much better than that. Truthfully, that's not fair. I cannot put my friends on pedestals and then blame them when they fall. No one can meet up to those standards and it's unfair to ask that. With age I have learned these lessons, not that I change easily, but I at least try, and really, isn't that all any of us can ask?

Wednesday, and nothing rhymes with it

Greetings all!

I hope everyone has had a lovely, stressfree week so far??? No, well, sit back, relax, and don't drink or eat while reading my thoughts. I am not responsible for choking or gagging on food or drinks. (that sould satisfy my lawyer).

Today was a normal cranking out the work, day at the place of business. Good for me and my bills. :)

I told you all I had two guinea pigs, well, I just got the male, and last Friday he got his goodies cut so we won't have little baby piggies as gifts. As cute as they are, I don't need anymore, and my friends don't want them as Christmas presents. Just doing my part to keep the animal race from blossoming out of control. However, every time I see the Kia Soul ad, and the Hamsters are jamming with their bling and music, I can't help but think the world would be so cute. Anyway, Darwin, male piggy, is healing nicely from his sensitive surgery. And I've been giving him meds to keep him painfree and infection free. In order to do this, my vet suggested I wrap him up like a burrito. Now, when she first said that I was nodding my head and saying 'mmhm, mmhm' thinking to myself this woman is on crack. These animals are quite fast in movement and jerking. The first day my gal pal assisted me. I held him and she squirted the liquid into his tiny, and I do mean tiny mouth. Apparently, we had not wrapped him tight enough, as his head was twisting and jerking like he was going to spit Green Pea soup at us. Side bar: Neither of us worked at Taco Bell or Del Taco in our formative years, so we were clueless. I could have asked my Guatemalen neighbors, but the last time I saw them, they were getting high and I was mowing my yard. In a white tank, after hitting the sprinkler because it was so bloody hot. So you can see why I might hesistate to ask them over to my casa? But 4 days later, and I am the burrito queen. I almost want to have a Derby or Rodeo where "guinea pig rolling" is a feat. Good times. Now, before you all call PETA, Darwin was not harmed and I did roll him slowly for his protection.

This weekend we are traveling to Chattanooga for my mother's birthday celebration. My sister will be driving and my two offspring will be joining us. They are so much easier to travel with now as they are older. My "heir" has always been a dream on the road, but once you get to your destination, he won't sleep. The "spare" was a nightmare in a carseat, but once you reached your spot, he would sleep like the lamb he is. Another good with the bad scenario. I thoroughly enjoyed both of my sons as they were babies and toddlers. Pre-Teens? Eh, I could live without that again, but I am very proud of how caring, generous, helpful, smart and compassionate they both are. Of course no child is perfect, I don't care what my mother says. PIEW is her Perfect In Every Way. Whatever lady, no one is and not even I am. I know I am shockingly close, but agan, first borns do have their genius.

I of course, will jot down every memorable comment my kids, dad, mother make and share them with you. Hope everyone has a safe and cool air conditioned rest of the week.

A few things you all should know

For starters; I create my own words, have been doing it for years. My family calls it the "Alanary". Catchy, right? I know, my family is quite amusing, as you will read in the future. I am a divorced woman with two cherished sons, they will either be called "hoodlums" or 'heir and the spare". Not going to lie, I stole that from Princess Diana. I was a year younger than her, but for some reason, felt connected to her. And not in a weirdo way. She had two sons she would die for, I do as well, she had a less than happy marriage, ditto. However, my mother in law was not the Queen, she was a farmer in Minnesota, but I digress.

For the last 16 years, I have worked for a large company and I truly love my job. I know a lot of us cannot say that, but I do. It's diverse enough on a daily basis, that a Sagittarius like me, doesn't get bored. Yep, I threw out the horoscope. I believe in Psychics, Mediums, Ghosts and paranormal. I have always been fascinated with this belief we are not alone and when we pass, we don't die. Keeps me happy to know that should I leave my sons, I can at least watch over them, or look up, where
ever I land. :)

Ok, so what else? I have a very sarcastic sense of humor, that isn't my fault. I have been this way since I could remember. In 5th grade, I clearly recall a boy wanting to beat me up for my mouth. Well guess what? I've yet to get beaten up, and my mouth is still sassy. I grew up a young lass in Southern Florida. North Palm Beach to be specific. I loved that town, and still do. My goal is to return once my 'hoodlums' see how I did that?, complete school. I have one sibling, a sister who is 10 years younger than me, but we both act the same age. I will let you guess whether that's mature or not. We aren't childish, but we can have fun doing silly things that harm no one but ourselves. My parents are a unique couple. Mum had a priviledged upbringing in Syracuse, NY. I like to think Tom Cruise and I were born in the same hospital. He was in July, me in November. But I'll keep moving, and no, I do not jump on couches to declare my love for another human being, a Panda bear, naturally. Who wouldn't? Anywaaaaaayyy, my father came to Syracuse from the lovely country called Canada. He was a dancer for Arthur Murray dance studios when they met. They met in December 1961, married January 1962, and moi was born November 1962. However, January was the elope date, imagine my horror when I was dusting at 11 years old, (because my mum, like I'm sure most used me as her cleaning woman) and saw the Wedding Announcement date of April 1962. I will admit, math is not my forte, but even this was clear to Stevie Wonder. My beloved grandmother almost had a heart attack along with me, the thought of me thinkng I was a 'bastard" was too much for Beulah. But mum cleared it up rght away. My parents were soooo in love they eloped to South Carolina, to get married. Upon returning to Syrcacuse, Beulah, was not happy and said 'it wasn't proper, and no daughter of hers was going to elope' so they had the April shindig. If you look at the wedding photos, you can sort of see me smiling under the gown. :)

Ok, so one sister, 10 years younger, hoards of great friends,  two teenage sons. One is starting college this fall, and the other is a Senior at his Middle School. Not to sound like grandpa Joe, but when I was in school, we had Elementary, Jr High and then High School. All equally horrible, you remember I had boys wanting to beat me up? Every grade report was the same too, "Alana does not play well with others". Actually, Alana does play well with others, when she can hear them. At the age of 16, we found out that thanks to my dad's side we have nerve damage in the ears. Lucky us. So either I was a snob who didn't say hi to people, or I made comments not fully hearing the convo, thus the 'beat you up' guy. You will remember the hearing issue, because it leads to lovely family dinners with the parents. Since this came from my dad's side, and he is almost 74, his ears are about as good and Helen Keller's were. My mum had perfect hearing, much to my dismay, so she literally yells or says things multiple times. Oh, and there are plenty of under the breath comments. Now, the good part of being hearing impaired? I am a kickass girlfriend if you need to know what the coach is yelling on the sidelines at 4th and goal.....The beauty of me.

Until we meet again. Thanks for stopping by and I hope you laughed out loud a few times.