My History, Inspirations, Barriers, Dreams and Everyday Life

Back from a relaxing vacation

2007-04-02T17:42:00.000-04:00

We had a very relaxing vacation. Went to the pool and/or beach every day, a nice dinner and back to this beautiful outdoor lounge at the hotel for a drink.

We were back at the room at around 8:30pm every night (since Ladybug was soooo tired), and watched either Dancing with the Stars, American Idol or the Sony Ericsson Open.

It's so nice to get away from your real life. And it's funny how you can look forward to your routine, even if you're bored with it. Going away for a few days gives a fresh perspective on how to make it better. Somehow I always end up making a To-Do list on the plane ride home.

Make those photo albums.
Create a nice spring garden this year.
Make plans to run that 3K and get real estate license.
Be happy with myself.

Aruba, Jamaica...

2007-03-22T09:57:00.000-04:00

We are leaving for our one week vacation on Saturday to Aruba. I've never been there and I'm really looking forward to it. I think it is perfect timing and much needed. We all need to relax and enjoy the warm weather, the beautiful ocean and sun.

By the way, thanks for your support... even if it was just a quick comment to say that you simply understand me and my feelings means so much. Speak to you when I get back!

Aches and Pains

2007-03-08T09:39:00.000-05:00

I'm 35 years old and I would consider myself decently healthy. I just had a physical and everything is just fine. I go to the gym 1-2x a week and play tennis 2x a week. I may not have much game but I will run down every ball and consider myself the fastest on the court. I don't really eat healthy but sometimes I try to eat more vegetables. Fried foods are my weakness.

I don't like the idea of getting older. And the biggest reminder that I'm no spring chicken is when I come home on Wednesday nights from 2 hours of tennis. I play doubles with a mix of players, all at the same level, however we range from mid 20's to early 60's. And every week *I* am the one limping off the court. By the time I get home, my lower back aches so much I can barely lift my legs to take my pants off. And the muscles in my shoulders ached as well. I couldn't wait to gingerly crawl into bed and rest my head on my great neck support pillow my grandma got me from QVC!

I even got these new orthotics from The Walking Company after the salesperson told me they would help my lower back pain (and I didn't even tell him I had lower back pain!) after standing on that cool simulator that tells you where the pressure is in your feet. I wore them in my new sneakers last night and it didn't help one bit.

The weird thing is that I usually woke up in the morning and feel a little weak in my back but not bad at all. Perhaps I should be visiting the chiropractor today but I won't since I usually feel better the next day. Instead, I lay in bed this morning and reflect on the fact that my body seems to be slowly giving out on me. Perhaps working more on strengthening my core would help. I gotta get back into doing some yoga.

Big Birthday

2007-03-01T08:09:00.000-05:00

Ladybug's birthday was earlier in the month, but I'm just getting around to downloading the pictures. It was totally insane. I invited her whole class, neighborhood friends, and family. There were about 35 children and 30 adults (I was surprised at how many kids from her class brought their siblings unannounced). We had it at her gymnastics place, and they did a fair job. (There were some issues but the fact that all I had to do was bring a cake outweighed them.)

She had a ball. The kids had a great time. The parents thought I was nuts inviting all those kids. It's funny, both my husband and I never really had birthday parties. I guess that's really how it was long ago. But kids today seem to have a party every year. My husband feels like Ladybug's birthday is also a time to get together with family that we don't see often. And I felt guilty not inviting every child from her class. I think I'm going to change my position for next year, however. Every year I say I'm not going to invite so many and somehow it always catches up with us.

But it's ok. Ladybug was on top of the world for a day. That's something our parents never gave us.

Do you Google your friends?

2007-02-22T09:47:00.000-05:00

Google is a powerful thing. It's borderline omnipresent. I've Googled old friends from grade school, estranged friends and even my husband... just-to-see-what-comes-up. Come on, we've all done it, haven't we? Googling our own name to see what we get? And in some ways, we feel like a little internet *star* if we actually come up with some hits... right?! (Apparently, there are individuals with the same name as me living in Texas and California. One with a grandma that recently passed away, another an alumni of a well-known college.)

So Ladybug has a friend in her class that she's gotten pretty chummy with. The parents are fun and cool, and we just had our second playdate yesterday. At Ladybug's birthday party, someone actually recognized Ladybug's friend's father as someone from a reality show. Wow! I was mesmerized. In a way, I knew someone famous.

So, of course, what did I do? I went home and immediately sat down and Googled them. And to my surprise, there was so much information on them it was scary. I'm not going to give away any details but the most interesting thing I found was that Ladybug's friend's mom had a blog that told some of her key stories -- about her first marriage, her pregnancy, how she got together with said reality show star, their enormous wedding, and more. Her blog seems inactive now, it was written about 2 years ago. But I had to read the whole thing from beginning to end. I was enthralled, spellbound, entranced (I get slightly obsessive sometimes).

And then I felt guilty. I felt the way you would after eating an entire chocolate cake, like that was so good but I really should not have done that. I knew too much about her before she even told me. I was about to go call her and say, "I know everything. Tell me more!" But I decided to play it cool and let her tell me these stories when she's ready.

It's fun making new friends. But sometimes it's more fun getting to know each other in a more traditional way. I mean really, I would be horrified if she was reading my blog and all my deep dark secrets! Yikes! ;-)

Unfullfilled

2007-02-13T10:59:00.000-05:00

Being a SAHM has been pretty difficult for me, and I've been doing it for over 2 years now. Now, don't get me wrong -- I am truly thankful that we can afford me to stay home but work was such a big part of my life; work was a big part of my identity.

I worked at a large investment banking firm for 14 years. I started there when I was 19, as a junior secretary and I left there working in Technology/Marketing managing 6 people. The opportunities I was given were amazing, and I was highly regarded and well-respected. I had many hats, many jobs and always excelled. When I left, I was at the pique of my career and hoped to finally make officer status, and become a Vice President. Sadly, I wasn't promoted because of these silly rules about going from a non-exempt to exempt status, and I wasn't eligible. I decided to quit the following June because I was beginning to feel unfulfilled at work since there was this little person waiting for me at home.

I used to work long hours. On one particular project, I worked a few days until 2am. The reward was great recognition and accomplishment, and a trip to an all-day spa treatments at Elizabeth Arden when it was done. Accomplishments were tangible, and projects were seen to an end result. Of course, we all know the accomplishments and satisfaction we get from parenting, but the only tangible projects I have now are finishing all the laundry and cleaning up the basement. B-O-R-I-N-G.

On the flip side, my Ladybug is happy and flourishing. She is a busy 4-year old with school every morning and busy days filled with play dates, swimming lessons, nature club, and gymnastics. But my days sometimes are lonely, isolating and unfulfilling.

I am constantly trying to have that positive self talk about my wondrous days and the fact that I can play tennis on any given Friday morning. And then there are days that I see a pretty dress in the mall that I would've bought for work and I'm almost brought to tears. I feel so fragile sometimes.

So my darling husband decided that he was so mad at me yesterday and left without kissing me good-bye for work (that's always the tip-off that he's upset at something). So I caught him on his way out and he was visibly pissed but just said, "Oh, so you don't know." And we didn't talk all day. I tried to call him twice and he just let his cell go to voicemail. I still don't know what his problem was.

Yesterday, I was trying to hold it together but my mind was elsewhere thinking of my unfulfilled career and my unfulfilled marriage. I actually had to pull over before I picked up Ladybug from school and just get the tears out and over with. I love my husband dearly, more than he cares to know, but one thing we don't have is that we don't get each other. Eleven year later, and there's no synchronisity, no strong bond. He's even more insecure than I am in a lot of ways, and I don't always have it in me to reach out to him and give him what he needs. We have a complicated relationship.

But here I am trying to make sense out of this life and what my purpose is. So I have a couple of new goals: First, after our vacation in March (when the weather here should be warmer), I'm going to start training for my first 3K or 5K race. Second, I'm going to get my Real Estate license. Hopefully, setting these tangible goals will help.

Little Swimmer

2007-02-10T08:29:00.000-05:00

This picture was taken last spring during our Disney trip, but it's relative to this little story. My Ladybug loves the pool. She could swim all day long, and even when we're in Disney World with all the amusements and attractions, the pool is still her favorite.

So I signed her up a couple of weeks ago for swimming lessons. I thought she would love to go swimming in the middle of winter once a week. So far, she's gone twice and she's not all that enthused. She thought it was all going to be fun and games, with her inflatable wings on (we call them swimmies). Needless to say, there's been a lot of crying going on during these 30 minute lessons.

I also have to preface the point of this story with the fact that I cry at everything... at the drop of a hat, I will shed a tear. Happy, sad, whatever, I cry. My husband has season Knicks tickets, and I even cry at most games when they sing the National Anthem. At the Shamu show in Disney, I cried the entire time because the sappy theme of the show was to Believe in Your Dreams.

Anyway, I've found Ladybug's swimming lessons to be another moment that I cry every time, for so many reasons. First of all, my little girl is growing up. She's getting so big, so smart and eventually will be so independent. Soon she'll be able to swim on her own. Also, there is this young girl, Katie, who is Ladybug's swimming instructor. She's probably about 19 or 20 years old, but she's very good. This week, when Samantha slipped on the steps and went under, it was kind of scary to watch. Of course, she was fine and really only went under up to her eyeballs but it was scary for both she and I (I am in the waiting area and can watch everything through a big window). But watching the way Katie was so gentle with her, had tears running down my face.

Katie calmly picked her up, held her and gently went around the pool. I saw her talking to her, wiping her tears and her hair from her face. Every time she put her hair behind her ears with such great maternal instinct, I had tears running down. Katie never seemed to falter, and always had a sweet smile. It was as if she knew Ladybug forever, perhaps as a member of her own family, and was just telling her everything was ok.

So for the rest of the lesson, Ladybug was not happy. She was scared but Katie never let her go after that, and for the most part, Ladybug was leaning back on Katie's chest just kicking her feet. But I felt it was progress. With great angst on her face, Ladybug followed her instructions and was trusting her, even though I could see she was really scared.

When I went out to pick her out of the pool, she saw me and cried, the kind of a cry someone feels when their scared in a situation, and then see a parent. The emotions let go, and you just want to be held and cry on their shoulder. I said to Katie, "You were so sweet with her." And my eyes started to well up. I couldn't even say good-bye to her as I walked away because I was kind of embarrassed of my own sappiness.

So even if I'm having a rough or lonely or not-so-great week, I still see beauty in these moments. It reminds me how wonderful it is to be a mother and to be home with Ladybug all day. And how thankful I should be to not miss them.

Party Mix

2007-02-01T16:44:00.000-05:00

This is a picture of a 48 oz. barrel of Party Mix. And now I've resorted to finishing this whole thing by myself. I've been eating this damn thing all day long. I'm not kidding. And today, the only other things I ate were an english muffin for breakfast, and picked on Ladybug's chicken nuggets and french fries. I literally start eating this thing as soon as I wake up (it's yummy with coffee).

I may be thin, but when I'm feeling sad, I eat. And I eat crap. I've blown off my personal trainer two weeks in a row and last night I went to the store after tennis and picked up a Snickers bar. I haven't had a Snickers bar in probably 10 years... at least! It was sooo good.

Ever since I miscarried in October, I've been wanting to hurry up and get pregnant again. I had two doctors tell me that I can start again after two periods. So we did, and I immediately obsessed about getting pregnant. I took three pregnancy tests and they all came out negative. I started taking them 5 days before my next due period -- according to the box, it's ok but the % of accurate results lessens so I didn't want to believe it.

Anyway, I got my period yesterday, hence my horrendous diet. I can't wait until this damn barrel is finished. I'm really feeling nauseas today!

Follow up on the Reincarnation

2007-01-23T10:32:00.000-05:00

I know that I sometimes give people great power over me, and how they "make" me feel. But people don't always intend to make you feel a certain way. Their just living their lives and doing things that make themselves feel better. I mean, everyone has their own opinions, their own perspectives, their own insecurities. It's the world just going 'round.

So rather than continue to be angry, and boy was I angry, I picked up the phone and called my PTA counterpart. I told her I was a bit confused when she handed me this box and told me to handle it because she couldn't. She said, "Well, I was just hoping that this stuff would just handle itself." And I said, "Well, it's not and if you're not going to do it, then I'm stuck doing it all." In the end, she reluctantly agreed to take her box back and handle the fund raiser. I explained how I'm not leaving her alone to handle it, I just want her to run with it for once. I'll gladly handle the next one.

I feel so much better that we had this communication. I'm sure she's not happy about it, and I don't "make" her feel great either... But sometimes you gotta just not let people shit all over you.

Lisa Reincarnated

2007-01-22T17:01:00.000-05:00

Growing up, I had two different sets of friends: my school friends, and my block friends. Obviously, my school friends were fellow classmates, and my block friends were different ages, but we all hung out together on our block. When I was about 8 or 9, I had a friend named Lisa, who lived across the street from me. She was 3 years older, blonde, pretty and I looked up to her. She even taught me how to ride a bike.

But Lisa was my sadistic friend. She was the ring leader when the kids on the block decided to pick on me. I told her I had a crush on a boy in class, and she told everyone about it and they would tease me endlessly. I would always ignore the fact that she started and participated in making my life a living hell. I just wanted to be her friend, and would do anything to spend time with her.

I can remember one time when I had this great collection of Barbies with the house and all the furniture. The dining room was my prized possession with all of its tiny plates, cups and silverware. I had brought all my stuff over to our Mei's house and the three of us played together. And just as I should have suspected, Mei & Lisa conspired against me, pretended to wrestle, and purposefully broke my table and chairs as they threw themselves on top of them. I was pissed and hurt. And I felt like such a sucker for even thinking that they wouldn't treat me this way.

Anyway, these memories come back today because the woman that I share PTA responsibilities with (of all things) reminds me of Lisa. Not necessarily her personality traits (although some do compare) but how she makes me feel. She makes me feel 9 years old again, and I'm giving her permission to step all over me. There are only two of us on this PTA Committee and I have done everything. Sure, she'll show up for fundraisers and help out with distributing packages, but I handle all the logistics, the money, and managing every project.

At the end of last year, I told her I was burnt out and that I wanted her to run with the next fund raiser, a candy drive. I gave her a contact name and told her to run with it. Today, she hands me a giant box of stuff and says, "Oh, this is yours. Everyone knows how horrible I am at this, so you're going to have to do it." Who the hell is everyone and if she's horrible at this stuff, why the hell is she on the PTA?????? I just said OK with this puzzled look on my face, took the box and got into my car.

That was at 9:30am, and I'm still furious. The problem is, I am such a wuss and for me to muster up the courage to someone whom I feel just bullied me, is going to take everything I have. Not sure how I'm going to address this yet but I really have to if I'm going to keep that little 9-year-old girl in the past.

Christmas Gifts

2007-01-16T10:39:00.000-05:00

My friend Lyndon "nudged" me to post about Christmas gifts. Three things I got for Christmas:

Nike Plus sneakers with the iPod adapter for my Nano to track distance/time/progress of my runs. My husband got this for me, on request (he always needs for me to tell him what to get, which I find pretty annoying). Anyway, it's a very cool gift and I need to use it more. I had only done treadmill running in the past (just started last summer), and this encouraged me to actually run outside. I did that for the first time about 10 days ago when it hit almost 70 degrees here in NYC. I ran just 2 miles but it was pretty invigorating. These sneakers are the coolest!
Clinique 3-step skin care system. My family does a Kris Kringle for the holidays, and this was the gift I requested. Another good one since I was low on my supply and with my sensitive skin, this stuff works great.
Palm Treo phone and organizer. This phone is pretty cool. My husband got me this one (upon request) too. This phone really helps with keeping me organized, especially if you've got ADD like me! My schedule is a bit all over the place and our wall calendar just wasn't cutting it. I've had a Palm Pilot for years but had stopped carrying it because I hate carrying too many gadgets. Although this phone is kind of big, has everything I need in one place.

Three things I got but didn't want:

A new bedding set from my mother-in-law. Seriously now, would anyone actually put this on their bed (in burgundy)? I haven't decided if I'm going to return it and buy something else, or just throw it in the Goodwill bin.
A tea set from Bombay Company from my stepmother. Pretty, but not my style. I returned it and got this instead. I bought the display item for $40. Perhaps I should have sent this to the tea addict, Lyndon!
One of those digital picture frames from my father's sister (I guess she's my aunt but I only see her about once in every 5 years.) Anyway, this was a very generous gift my XD card doesn't fit and I now have to buy an adapter thing to transfer pics to it. Not sure where it was purchased, so I'm unable to return it.

I feel like a spoiled brat complaining about the gifts I didn't like. I wouldn't have said anything otherwise, but I was NUDGED! :)

Lessons learned

2007-01-13T23:27:00.000-05:00

I have been trying to think of a response to this one for days....

Iris had commented on a previous post that I should find the lesson learned in finding Rose's letter. I still don't know what the lesson is yet but I've done a lot of thinking about why these people are constant recurring characters in my dreams. They are people who were once in my life but are no longer... my therapist says they tap into my "abandonment issues."

The reality about all my past friendships is that I feel they either drifted apart or were broken because of me. I blame myself. And here is where I can go into some rather deep self-loathing about how everything is my fault. hmmm... but maybe this is the lesson. I don't know. Maybe I need to stop blaming myself for every friendship that has passed. Maybe I need to tell myself to stop feeling like a burden to my family and friends, or really try to determine why I put myself in rather compromising positions.... can someone say sabotage??

I wish I knew how to get my former friends out of my dreams but they do really haunt me. And with every dream I'm left with a strange sense of loss. Perhaps it's just a reminder about what I'm missing even in my current relationships. The mind is a complicated place and I'm not even sure if I'm making sense. But it's 1:40am and I can't sleep.

My mind spins and races and runs uncontrollably
My world turns upside down
But my clock still ticks loudly
So here I am trying to make sense of the insanity, while I google to figure out how soon I can take a pregnancy test

I am Wonder Woman....

2007-01-13T23:16:00.000-05:00

Which superhero are you?

(Thanks, Lyndon!)

Your results:
You are Wonder Woman

Wonder Woman		70%
Robin		65%
Green Lantern		65%
Supergirl		65%
The Flash		60%
Spider-Man		55%
Catwoman		55%
Superman		55%
Iron Man		45%
Batman		35%
Hulk		25%

You are a beautiful princess
with great strength of character.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz

Rose's Letter

2007-01-10T11:43:00.000-05:00

I had a good friend in high school named Rose. Recently, when I was cleaning out my closets, I came across a letter from her. When I was in high school, girls used to write letters to their friends all the time... tell their dark secrets, get their emotions out on paper. We all did it, and looking back now, I can see how therapeutic it probably was. I wonder if that's all left to email now, which to me, would be a little disappointing. I like the idea of writing free-hand on paper. You see the emotion in the handwriting, you see where she pressed hard on the pen, scribbled, and in some places wrote small so no one could see, and larger for an exclamatory effect. It's so much more personal, more real. And you can rediscover it 20 years later, like I did.

Anyway, Rose had a quiet, shy, sweet exterior. She came from a very traditional Italian family, and was very protected and her parents would never let her out of the house. However, Rose always had a long-term steady boyfriend, from the time we were in the 8th grade. And the rumors of her sex life were always circling. Her boyfriends were always a little unusual -- one was the bad boy who was cute but never showered and everyone always wondered what she saw (or smelled) in him. The Italian-"boss" type who was 20 years old, whom she would sneak out to hotel rooms with. And the highly effeminate guy whom others in our school would make fun of for being gay (even us, his close circle of friends, always wondered).

Anyway, Rose loved to flirt and play mind games. In this letter, she confesses to me that she just told her boyfriend (Dirty Guy)'s good friend that she had a crush on him. Then she proceeded to go back to Dirty Guy to tell him what she did. Her letter was filled with distraught and guilt and she kept saying that she was a horribly mean person and she didn't know why she did the things she did.

A couple of nights ago, soon after reading that letter, I had a dream that I was reunited with her and we hugged. And the hug was so strong, so intense, that I started to cry on her shoulder... long and hard. It felt good to see her again, and I remember feeling that I so wanted to be friends again.

After thinking a lot about that dream, I remembered how our friendship ended (I had actually forgot this when I rediscovered her letter). She betrayed me a couple of years after H.S. graduation. I was having problems with my boyfriend, and was trying to break away to see other people. I had gone on a date, and used to tell her everything. Well, my guy had suspected something, and convinced Rose to record our conversation of my silly details. That evening, he presented me with this tape. I went back to Rose, furious. How could she betray my trust? She tried to apologize but I wouldn't hear of it. Our friendship ended.

And today, I still have regrets about how I handled that situation. I mean, I wasn't totally honest with my boyfriend, was I? I was betraying him, so karma came back and bit me in the ass. And she was the easily-persuaded type. My boyfriend was the suave-charming-schemer type and I always did understand how she could've also been the victim in that set-up, too. And I ended up patching things up with my boyfriend, and he convinced me that I was a sucker if I ever spoke to her again. I think I may have been a sucker for getting back with him.

Many years later, I ran into her in the subway about 4 years ago when I was pregnant with Ladybug. She was with a man that didn't look familiar, and told me she was engaged to be married that year. I was so excited to see her but she looked far less interested. In my exaggerated memory of the last time I saw her, I see her leaving the train with her fiance, laughing and giggling, running away from me.

Parallel Dream

2007-01-09T07:59:00.000-05:00

I had a dream last night of an old friend. She was a girl in High School whom I befriended and we simply just lost touch. In this dream, I guess we were at a reunion or something and she wouldn't talk to me. She was upset at me, she just simply didn't like me anymore. She was talking to everyone in the group but me and when she walked away I asked her friend why. Because you were rude to her, you ignored her. She doesn't want to talk to you.

I guess I have that effect on people. I have, unfortunately, hurt someone in this blog universe from a comment I posted. Sometimes I need to just keep my big mouth shut and my eyes open a little wider.

Me

2007-01-08T11:18:00.000-05:00

I feel inclined to post a picture of myself. I am especially considering making this my identity photo in this blog, rather than using my picture of when I was four.

One of the main reasons is because I feel I need to shed my primary identity as a child. I am not a child. I may have scars today that were received as a child, but that is not who I am. I am a grown woman, an adult and I need to remind myself of that. I'm not that little girl who was abandoned by her parents. I am a woman who is responsible, compassionate and lovable. I am a woman who can be strong, smart and independent. I am Me and proud of it.

My Ladybug took this picture of me. I crouched down to get to her level for a good shot. This is how she sees me. Her parent, the adult, the woman in charge in the household. I can be fun, authoritative and my kisses make any boo-boo feel better. I am her rock, her confidant, her superhero. I am her mother and I love that role most of all.

I'll leave that little girl as my photo for one more day. But I'm going to try to shed this identity once and for all.

Dirty Laundry

2007-01-06T00:22:00.000-05:00

I typically let my dirty laundry sit in the hamper for a long time before I wash it. When I'm low on underwear or clean shirts, I wash clothes. Then the simple thought of folding all of those damn clothes makes me procrastinate, and causes those clean fluffy clothes to get wrinkled and barely presentable. By the time I'm ready to fold them, I have to do an overhaul, take great care, time and effort and put them all away. After this enormous effort and angst, I feel accomplished and I wonder why I didn't do it sooner. And then the cycle continues again at some point.

My dirty laundry is very telling of how I handle my life. I don't want to take care of things when it looks easy. I end up handling things at the last minute or when things get really bad and I'm forced to. By the time I'm ready to clean it all up, it's near disaster. But when I finally do it, it feels damn good and I wonder what took me so long.

I was honored by a comment from my favorite blogger today, Philip. He has inspired me to let it all hang out.

Today, I'm angry for allowing myself to be in a relationship where my spouse just doesn't even like me. And I don't know if he will ever see me for who I truly believe I am. He doesn't see the good in me, only the bad. And he never lets me forget the things he hates about me. I used to believe his tales of lies more than I do now, but it's still hard. I am sad more than I am happy in this relationship.

I'm angry at the fact that my abandonment issues run so deep that it's hard for me to end this relationship. This time, his scornful words came after I said, "Why don't we go to breakfast together?" I was told I was selfish and ungrateful. I was told that I would have been better off with my old boyfriend if he wasn't dead. After we both threatened to break this shambles of a marriage off, I was forced to give him all my credit cards from my wallet because "I can't be trusted." By the next day, we were somehow trying to pull it together, and when he came home from work, he gave me a hug. No words, just a hug. And I almost cried because all I really want is his love. As I write this, it feels so ugly that I can't believe this is my life.

As soon as I'm done here, I am submitting this post before I chicken out. I could just leave it in draft for my own catharsis, but maybe if I see it in print, it'll give me a good shake. Maybe more about my deep rooted anger for another time.

Happy New Year

2007-01-02T23:04:00.000-05:00

I read these blogs that sound so hopeful for the New Year. Now is a time to reflect on the previous, and look forward to the new. Bah. Humbug.

My wounds run so deep. My anger is buried in passive aggressiveness and my heart aches. Tonight, I simply just want to just pretend my life is something different, like I always do. I want to pretend it's just some random day in July, that we're not "ringing" in anything. I guess I haven't written here because of the pressure to write something hopeful, something promising, something nice. But therealme is not that today. I don't have it in me. I can't even pretend today. I just can't live in denial at the moment. I just want to take my little Ladybug somewhere far away and be happy.

I'm angry at so many for so much for so long. I'm especially hurt because of my current life and the fact that he just has no problem to continue to hurt me and bring me down. If I had a better support system, maybe I could shed this negativity. Rather, he has a magical way of making me feel two inches tall. Where is the truth in my life? What is reality? I try to so hard to make it feel right, feel good. And I just can't get it right when there's someone constantly disrupting my state of... lying to myself.

Some people in my family surround themselves in organization, neatness and cleanliness to hide their true feelings. I, instead, manage to make a 4 ft. pile in every corner of every room and every closet and walk out of here the happiest-go-luckiest-gal on the block. Right. I wonder if I'm really kidding anyone with my cheerful exterior.

I wish I could say Happy New Year. I wish I had the strength to make some major changes in my life. Maybe. Someday. Not sure if it will be in 2007.

Christmas Favorites

2006-12-24T09:00:00.000-05:00

This list is a hodge-podge of my favorite things about Christmas, consisting of events, traditions, nostalgia and things that make me smile:

1. Seeing the magic of Santa on Christmas morning
2. My Johnny Mathis' Christmas CD
3. Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer
4. The Grinch
5. Visiting my Aunt P's house and remembering the great Christmases spent with my cousins in that basement
6. The Sound of Music on TV (it was on last night!)
7. A Christmas Story ("I double-dog dare you!")
8. Charlie Brown Christmas
9. Putting my keepsake ornaments on the tree
10. The smell of pine in the air

Happy Holidays!

10 Weird Things About Me

2006-12-16T09:10:00.000-05:00

Unlike Iris, I think I am totally weird. I enjoy being weird. To some degree, I am only closet weird. I don't want anyone to know how weird I am. But what the hell, my user id IS livewithrealme, isn't it?? Here goes:

1. I love when my cat licks my eyelashes. She's done it ever since she was a kitten (she's 11 now), and only does it to me. She doesn't do it as often as she used to but I think this kitty of mine truly thinks I'm her mommy. I love how she wakes me up this way and we cuddle.

2. Knishes with mayonnaise and a pastrami sandwich with mayonnaise and are a perfect combination. For those living outside of NYC, a knish is a small, square of dough stuffed with mashed potato and either baked or deep fried. Both the knish and pastrami are NEVER dressed with anything but mustard. Not for me. I like them, love them, with mayo.

3. I fart whenever I'm in a card store. I don't know why. First of all, it always takes me a minimum of 20 mins. to pick out a single card. I love giving cards but I'm extremely picky. Something about standing still in front of them makes me break wind and I can't help it. I can't even hold back. Smell something funny in the card aisle? Yeah, that was me. There I said it.

4. My husband always says I'm messy; I've got piles everywhere of papers, old clothes to give away, and I can never find anything. But the weird part of it is, look in my drawers and all my clothes are always neatly folded, organized and stacked. Socks, underwear and bras included... especially! I've got priorities, ya know?!

5. I love to color in my daughters coloring books. Ladybug is going on 4 soon and just learning how to keep it in the lines. Whenever I sit down and color with her, I have to finish the entire picture. My only form of artistic ability.

6. I love to go to open houses just to see how people live. I do enjoy the real estate market (even worked in an office for a few months until my dh decided he couldn't handle it on the weekends without me). And at some point in the next year or two, we would like to move to a bigger house so I just use the excuse that I'm doing research. But the truth is, I love to see how people decorate, sleep and organize their own lives. I find it fascinating. On Sundays, Ladybug and I will be driving and she already knows the signs with the balloons mean we are welcome to browse, "Wanna go to that open house, Mommy?" And in we go.

7. I have a terrible habit of buying people gifts and never giving them. It's a sickness, I think. I especially do this to my parents. And I never return them. I either regift, save until the next year or sell it on eBay. If you don't get a gift receipt from me, it's probably because I actually bought it 8 months ago.

8. I occasionally binge on a combination of chocolate chip cookies (or anything chocolatey) and potato chips with a glass of milk. Alternate sweet and salty... yum! Also popcorn and plain potato chips in a single bite are heavenly!!

9. Something no one, NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON knows about me is that I smoke about 3 cigarettes a month. I've snuck a cig here and there throughout my life since I was about 12 years old. When I was in high school, I used to pick the butts up from the sidewalk and take a drag (I'd somehow have a match or two on me). Now a pack of cigs lasts me almost a year. I'll sit on the deck in my backyard, smoke one and actually get high from the nicotine. I am clearly not addicted -- I can go any long period of time without a drag (like when I was pregnant). I think it's some sort of weird rebellion.

10. I love to cry at movies and at TV shows. Extreme Home Makeover -- fuggeddaboutit! The Biggest Loser -- oy vey! Hallmark commercials -- bring 'em on!

So there. I feel like I've confessed my deepest weirdisms! Are ya still with me?

Labels

2006-12-14T14:03:00.000-05:00

I recently came across a blog, imperfect perfections, that inspired this post. What are the labels that I've assigned to myself? What labels to I allow be put on me? Some of the general labels I identify myself with are:

Mother
Wife
Daughter
Little Girl

The negative labels I identify myself with are:

Disorganized
Procrastinator
Slothy
Tries too hard
Bad skin
Aging ungracefully
Used to be pretty
Sucker
Door mat
Weak

Then there are the labels that others may put upon us. In a sense, they may sometimes be completely different than we see ourselves, whether positive or negative. I think labels are a very complicated thing for this reason. I also think whatever labels others put upon us, we allow to some degree. From the list below, I will explain. Below are the labels I feel others put upon me:

Sweet
Kind
Generous
Unconfident
Scatter-brained
Thoughtful
Ungrateful
Organized
Bitch
Selfish
Independent
Leader
Smart
Confident
Self-sufficient

As the chairperson of my daughter's PTA and as anyone's Friend, I portray someone who is a Leader, Confident and Organized. As my role of Little Girl in my family, I am Disorganized, Scatter-Brained, and Unconfident. It's very difficult to shed this identity in my family. My dh thinks I enforce these identities on them by my actions. To an extent, I think he's right.

My dh is the one who calls me some of the worst ones in the above list. And to be honest, I've never been called those things ever in my life. In fact, always the exact opposite. What does he see in me that others do not? Is he just projecting some weird emotions and identity onto me (he was physically and emotionally abused as a child) or is he the only one that sees the real me? I believe in my heart that it's the former and not the latter, however, there is a part of me that sometimes struggles with this.

Obviously, the ones I want to shed all of the negative labels, especially Ungrateful, Bitch and Selfish, but how far do I really want to go to try? Should I just allow someone, especially my partner, to think of me in this way even if I truly don't believe it myself?

My confidence has definitely grown over the years, however, I don't know if I'll ever shed my own major identity as The Little Girl Who Was Abandoned By Her Parents Who Just Wants Everyone to Like Her.

Positive labels I truly believe about myself:

Kind
Thoughtful
Empathetic
Compassionate
Obsessive
Spontaneous
Adventurous
Outgoing
Shy
Good mother
Good at sports
Analytic

Thanks for the inspiration, Iris. I hope I was as clear as you in answering these questions.

How to Save a Life

2006-12-14T08:06:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I love a CD because of the funky beat or the beautiful singing. But my favorite CDs are because of its prose, its deep, raw feelings that come out and inspire me to think about my life, where I've been, where I'm going. My rule of thumb is to not buy an entire CD until I hear at least two songs that I like. So far, Over My Head and How to Save a Life have struck that cord in me, so I bought it on iTunes today. Looking forward to hearing the rest of the songs.

How to Save a Life

Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

How to save a life
How to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

How to save a life

My Book Club - The Kite Runner

2006-12-09T09:59:00.000-05:00

One of the great benefits of being a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom) is that I've met some great women in the neighborhood, and we've formed a Book Club. It's interesting how a lot of the moms are like me, career-oriented women who like to use their heads and not only do housework, and truly enjoy this outlet. We read (which is something we haven't done in awhile), then analyze and discuss a book over cocktails. It's a perfect combination -- new friends, intelligent conversation, no kids and a little libation!

Our third book, The Kite Runner, is a good one. I'm only about 30 pages in but I'm already looking forward to the next meeting! If there are any moms out there reading this blog, I highly recommend creating a book club in your community!

Happy Birthday, D

2006-12-01T08:04:00.000-05:00

Today is my old friend D's 35th birthday. Well, we're actually not really friends anymore. But like all my other estranged friends, I always think about her.

D and I met in high school back in the late 80's. She seemed quiet and a bit shy, just like me. She became part of my H.S. circle. Then something happened to her between junior and senior year. Her hair skyrocketed with lots of hairspray and she wore heavy makeup, lost some weight and always wore tight clothes. It was a fascinating transformation. She became a bit louder, more boisterous, more outgoing. I think her summer weight loss started this transformation and her attitude came along with it. Even at 16, she was cynical and condescending. But I liked her. She was kind of like my alter-ego. "I hate everyone" was her mantra, and she always wore that quote as a clear expression on her face.

We were friends for a long time after high school. We both went straight to work after high school. She ended up going to secretarial school after getting fired from her first job. I'm sure a lot of that termination had to do with her attitude and low-cut raunchy clothing in a professional environment. We would go out every weekend to bars and clubs, mostly in Brooklyn, sometimes in Manhattan. Oh, and her clubwear was barely there every weekend -- she would wear a sequined bra with a sheer shirt barely over it, and bicycle pants (what can I tell you -- it was the early 90's!). She danced as if she were on MTV and she loved all the attention she got, and so did I. It was a funny way of getting attention myself. The guys would come over and talk to her and one of their friends would always say, "How did YOU two become friends." "Opposites attract," we would always say. We got lots of free drinks and rides home.

I had a boyfriend at the time and was completely faithful, although I accepted the drinks and the rides. But looking back at that time now, I was sooooooooo quiet -- practically mute. I was so painfully shy that I was afraid to even open my mouth for fear of scaring people away. I would let her do all the talking and I would just smile and laugh. She would eventually complain to me that I looked uninterested and bored, and sometimes I was. I really just wanted to go out and dance. But we had our fun, and she often met a guy that she would date for awhile.

Anyway, our friendship ended twice, the second time seems to have been the final. She was such a high maintenance friend. She always needed advice, needed to analyze a guy's every move, was extremely jealous and insecure. Her makeup, big hair and attitude was just a front for the fearful scared little girl inside -- pretty much just like her alter-ego... me. I was her rock, her confidant, her voice of reason.

I felt like I had to convince her that she was worthy, that the guy really liked her, that she was a good person underneath it all. And I actually liked playing that role. I felt like the adult in the relationship. I felt like I had something to give to her -- my sanity, my logic, my responsibility at a young age to hold a job, buy my own car (with ALL my own money at 19), and to have a long-term boyfriend. She made me feel like I had it all together. Weird. Yin and yang.

Then four of us went on vacation to Cancun, and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I think we were about 21, and spending an entire week with her was exhausting. Her bossiness was uncontrollable and she was obsessed about trying to find a guy on this vacation. Everything we did had to be around her finding a guy. And as it turned out, our friend T (who I will discuss at a later date) found a great guy -- unfortunately, she was practically engaged and this guy lived in Florida! But in any event, D was really jealous of this. T would ask me to hang out with her and this guy's friend, so I did. I was not attracted to this guy whatsoever, and extremely disinterested but it was better than following D around like the puppy dog I had become to her. So D and her other friend were together, and T and myself. We didn't speak for about two years after that vacation.

I called D after my boyfriend was killed. I had the urge to speak to her for so long, and this tragic event made me need her. Unfortunately, at the same time I called her, she and her long-term boyfriend of about a year and a half, were breaking up. Her focus was hardly on my and my tragedy but I still accepted it. But there I was again, holding her up, talking her down from insanity, and trying to keep her on the ground. She was practically suicidal during this breakup -- she even stalked this guy and broke into his house once.

Time went by and I met a guy (my dh, actually). He was exactly what I needed, and he didn't like my friend D at all. He couldn't see the good in her, as many people couldn't. He is what made me distance myself from her once again, and then finally, I just didn't show up. I was supposed to pick her up to go somewhere (of course, she didn't drive so I drove her everywhere) and I just changed my mind and didn't go. I didn't even call her to cancel, and we haven't spoken since. That was about 8 or 9 years ago.

So that's the long story. And still, every year on her birthday, I wonder what she's doing and I long to talk to her. Maybe it's just my own insanity, but I have a hard time letting go. So anyway, Happy Birthday, D -- wherever you are. Hopefully, you are well and healthy and in a good place with your life.

Top Five on Friday -- on Saturday ?!

2006-11-25T10:08:00.000-05:00

Well, I normally just rant about my childhood baggage and current life events on my blog, but my friend Lyndon has encouraged me to post a list: My Top 5 Long Songs (over 5 minutes). My list, of course, mainly has my "old" favorites because I like to go back and remember when I was young. Here goes:

1. Rapper's Delight by Sugar Hill Gang (7:07)

2. Jamonit by Nucleus (8:15)
(sadly, one of my favorites for nostalgic reasons)

3. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen (5:55)

4. You Remind Me (Remix version) by Mary J. Blige (5:56)
(this is one of my all-time favorite CDs - What's the 411? Remix)

5. Here We Go Let's Rock & Roll by C+C Music Factory (9:31)

6. Purple Rain by Prince (8:10)

Cheers! Thanks for the inspiration, Lyndon. I may play again next week!

Road to Recovery

2006-11-24T09:38:00.000-05:00

Boy, am I glad the worst is now behind us! Ladybug's fever has disappeared and her energy is back. She is still pretty congested, of course, but the fever was my biggest worry.

We did see a gastroenterologist who just said that she probably had a bout with constipation and just to keep an eye on it. With toddlers, it's so hard to have them eat fiber-enriched foods and vegetables. And thankfully, she isn't lactose intolerant. I was told that typically children under 7 only have an "irritation" to lactose that they will (usually) eventually grow out of. An actual tolerance to lactose could not be diagnosed until at least 7 years of age.

So our Thanksgiving was nice and quiet. I made a small turkey, arroz con gandules, mashed potatoes, creamed corn and stuffing. Jell-O for desert with whipped cream. A nice, simple dinner for the 3 of us.

Today we are going to get out of the house for awhile and go see Happy Feet, and this weekend, I plan to do some Christmas decorating. 'Tis the season!

Pneumonia

2006-11-22T08:31:00.000-05:00

Yep, my little Ladybug has pneumonia. Sadly, I was never so relieved in my life to hear the news. We finally got to a diagnosis. The pneumonia was most likely caused by her sinus infection that didn't go away with 10 days of antibiotics and just kept dripping into her lungs. This may or may not explain her chronic belly ache, so today we are going to see a gastroenterologist.

Now that she's had a day of antibiotics, her fever isn't so severe and her energy is coming back slowly. She's really bored at home now, always asking to go to the park or a friend's house, and then an hour or two later, she falls asleep. I'm going to keep her home a little while longer because she shouldn't be running around and playing just yet.

So tomorrow, for Thanksgiving, we're just going to have a quiet dinner at home. We're all a little disappointed that we're not going to my husband's cousin's house. I'll probably make a little turkey for us and hopefully, we'll have a nice relaxing day together.

Sitting and waiting

2006-11-20T07:28:00.000-05:00

Ladybug has had a fever since Saturday morning. She's had stomach pain on and off for the past month, and she woke up on Saturday and vomited after I gave her some soy milk. I took her to the pediatric urgicenter at the hospital on Saturday because her doctor has been well aware of her chronic stomach pain, and finally recommended some tests (x-rays and bloodwork). Everything came out ok... ok?? What the hell is going on then? Possibly severe constipation? A stomach infection? Lactose intolerance? It's still a mystery.

So now as she awoke this morning with 104 degree temperature (even after alternating tylenol and motrin since yesterday), I'm waiting for the doctor's office to open at 9:00am. I've given Ladybug a lukewarm bath, more motrin, and have made her comfortable. It's only 7:30am. I have a stool in the fridge sample that's awaiting testing, and I just don't know what to do with myself. I just want these doctors to figure this out already.

When something like this happens, I don't know if all mothers out there feel the same way, but I start to blame myself. What did I miss? Why didn't I do x, y or z? If there was a real diagnosis than I could really find facts to blame myself with. Now, I'm just speculating that it was the milk I would leave in her sippy cup during the night or the spinach she ate or the fact that I don't focus enough on her fiber intake.

Just to make a note myself and keep my head together, her symptoms are: tummy aches on and off for the past 4 weeks, fever, stuffy nose and congestion (may not be related to anything), leg muscle pain (she will sometimes say, "Mommy, my legs hurt. I can't walk," but I don't know if she's just tired or what), mucousy stool for the past week, vomiting (on Saturday and at the onset of these symptoms).

Just keep us in your thoughts and prayers that we get to the bottom of this soon.

Growing up long ago...

2006-11-19T09:22:00.000-05:00

I just got this email forward and felt this one was worth posting here. In reality, it wasn't as rosy as this but you get the picture. I love a little morning nostalgia...

Close your eyes, and go back
Before the Internet or PC or the MAC
Before semi-automatics and crack
Before Playstation, SEGA, Super Nintendo, even before Atari
Before cell phones, CD's, DVD's, voicemail and e-mail
way back...
way, way, way back...

I'm talkin' bout hide and seek at dusk
Red light, Green light Red Rover...Red Rover...
Playing kickball & dodgeball until the first...no...second...no...third Streetlight came on
Ring around the Rosie London Bridge
Hot potato Hop Scotch Jump rope
Duck....duck....GOOSE!!! YOU'RE IT!!

Parents stood on the front porch and yelled (or whistled) for you to come home - no pagers or cell phones
Mother May I? Hula Hoops
Seeing shapes in the clouds
Endless summer days and hot summer nights (no A/C) with the windows open
The sound of crickets
Running through the sprinkler
Cereal boxes with that GREAT prize in the bottom
Cracker jacks with the same thing
Ice pops with 2 sticks you could break and share with a friend
But wait, there's more...

Watchin' Saturday morning cartoons
Fat Albert, Road Runner, Smurfs, G-Force & He-Man, Schoolhouse Rock
Watchin' Sunday morning oldies (Abbott & Costello, Three Stooges)
Wonder Woman & Super Man Underoos
Fonzie.....AYYYYYYYY
Playing Dukes of Hazard
Catchin' lightning bugs in a jar
Christmas morning
Your first day of school
Bedtime prayers and goodnight kisses
Climbing trees
Swinging as high as you could to try and reach the sky
Getting an ice cream off the Good Humor truck

A million mosquito bites and sticky fingers
Jumpin' down the steps
Jumpin' on the bed
Pillow fights
Sleep-overs
A 13" black and white TV in your room meant you were RICH

Runnin' till you were out of breath
Laughing so hard that your stomach hurt
Being tired from PLAYING
WORK meant taking out the garbage or doing the dishes
Your first crush
Your first kiss (I mean the one that you kept your mouth closed and your eyes OPEN)
Rainy days at school meant playing "Heads up 7UP" or hangman" in the classroom
Remember that?

Oh, I'm not finished yet...
Kool-Aid was the drink of the summer
So was a swig from the hose
Giving your friends a ride on your handlebars
Wearing your new shoes on the first day of school
Class Field Trips with soggy sandwiches
When nearly everyone's mom was at home when the kids got there

When a quarter seemed like a fair allowance, and another quarter a MIRACLE
When ANY parent could discipline ANY kid, or feed him, or use him to carry groceries,
and nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it
When your parents took you to McDonald's and you were COOL
When being sent to the principal's office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited you at home
Basically, we were in fear for our lives but it wasn't because of drive by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc.
Our parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat!
And some of us are still afraid of em!

Didn't that feel good? Just to go back and say, "Yeah, I remember that!"
Let's go back to the time when
Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming, "Do over!"

"Race issues" meant arguing about who ran the fastest
Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in Monopoly
Catching fireflies could happily occupy an entire evening
It wasn't odd to have two or three "best" friends
Being old, referred to anyone over 20. (CRAP! I'm officially old!)
The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was cooties

Nobody was prettier than Mom
Scrapes and bruises were kissed by mom or grandma and made better
It was a big deal to finally be tall enough to ride the "big people" rides at the amusement park
Getting a foot of snow was a dream come true

Abilities were discovered because of a "double-dog-dare"
Spinning around, getting dizzy and falling down was cause for giggles
The worst embarrassment was being picked last for a team
Water balloons were the ultimate, ultimate weapon
Older siblings were your worst tormentors, but also your fiercest protector
If you can remember most or all of these, then you have LIVED!!!

My mother sells stuff on ebay

2006-11-12T08:31:00.000-05:00

Ebay is an interesting concept. I was hooked on it for a short time (I love to find something to obsess about). I would find things in the house, in my basement storage cabinet, and in our closets that was worthy of selling. I would put it up for bid, and watch it at almost every waking moment I could to see if people were visiting, bidding or asking questions.

I've sold a coach briefcase that I gave to my husband that he never used. I've sold some of Ladybugs clothing that she got as gifts but either she or I didn't like and I didn't care to keep in storage. I've sold some of my old work clothes that were in near perfect condition. I've sold some old wedding presents that were still in boxes and never opened. I've also sold some things I've purchased myself, didn't use or open for some reason and never cared to return. For me, it was simply a hobby not a moneymaker, and a great way to clean out some closet space.

But if you really think about it, you can kind of learn about a person by what they sell on ebay. It's kind of like how the paparazzi goes through a big star's garbage. The clothes they don't like, the items that were once favored and now no longer meaningful, the things they had high hopes for and then just sold away. You get to see the things they've owned, the things they've cared for, the things they don't like. It's a very small window into someone's life.

I really don't know my mother. I mean, I do know part of who she is -- she gave birth to me, and raised me until I was 2. I know she's extremely insecure, unsure of herself, the blacksheep of the family, boisterous, loves crab legs, potato chips, playing online video games, and to decorate/remodel her home. I know she's a little selfish in her thinking, has had one best friend since she's about 9 or 10 year old, etc. etc. I even feel like I know and understand why she sent me away to live with my grandmother. In some ways, I guess I do know a lot of things, but I know nothing about her everyday life. I don't really know what she does on her days off, what she makes for dinner, what she buys when she goes shopping. I don't know her favorite color, her favorite movie or what color the scarves are that she's crocheting for her friends. It's weird the things you take advantage of when you live someone. You know so much more about them, even more than you realize. I never really lived with my mother, so I really don't feel like I'll ever truly really KNOW her.

I've known for long time now that my mother also had an Ebay "habit" and a couple of months ago, she sent me a link to an item she had purchased. Well, I did some detective work and found her user ID. Now, I constantly check it to see what she's buying and selling. I've read the reviews on her products and all the reviews she's given. She is an ideal seller and an ideal customer. It sounds like she ships items out super fast and with super care. She likes to buy little crystal ornaments and Lancome makeup. Her user ID is even a nomenclature of her identity as a grandmother, which I found quite interesting.

Looking at this little window of items on ebay has added to her mystery. I'm thankful for this sneaky little peak into this part of her world. I wonder who gave her the large serving dish that she sold. I wonder why she bought a cranberry colored towel on ebay when that probably could have been purchased at JC Penney or something. Her pictures look professional, with backdrops and great lighting and everything. I imagine her setting the items up for pretty pictures, and taking such great time and care to send them off in neat little packages. And with every item sold, I wonder why she gave it away and found it no longer meaningful enough to have in her home.

Confessions for my dear brother

2006-11-07T08:15:00.000-05:00

My half-brother, "A," is in high school. He is a great kid, mild mannered, pretty quiet and slightly introverted. He doesn't have a lot of friends. He spends most of his time with his mother and his two little nephews. He doesn't go out much but sometimes my father's brother or sister will take him and he'll spend the day or weekend with them. But not with me. Sadly, that's my... choice. Not because I don't like him or anything silly like that, but I have so much anger, resentment and disappointment towards my father that I just can't get past it. "A" is just a victim of my circumstance and he doesn't even know it.

Many times I've thought to myself, "Why should I make an effort with him when my father never made an effort with me." That sounds so horrible, evil and just wrong. And it's in my thoughts.

I actually avoided A's calls this weekend because I didn't want to spend time with him. "Why does he always call me last minute?!" is the only excuse I can come up with.

I wish I could say I'm sorry to him. But the problem is, I can't promise I won't do it again. I wish he didn't like me or look up to me or even call me "sister." I don't want that job. I'm bad at it. I just don't want to take part in my father's dysfunctional, crazy family when I've got my own to deal with. One is enough!

I wish I could somehow make "A" understand how I feel but to be honest, I know my behavior towards him is inexcusable. I'm always jumping on my soap box saying how my father just didn't even seem to make it right with him, to kind of make up for the nonexistent father he was to me. But here I am blowing off this little boy. This innocent kid.

"A," I am so sorry I'm not a better sister. Your father is a jerk and I shouldn't blame you for it. I don't know how to get past this. I can't even make a promise to try. I do love you but my feelings are so complicated that I'm afraid to show you that I do for fear of getting closer to Dad. Whenever I find myself getting closer to him, he does something to disappoint me. I'm protecting myself but I'm hurting you, my dear brother. I really am sorry.

My family through my uncle's pictures

2006-11-03T08:04:00.000-05:00

Perspective is everything. Isn't it? We can grow up in the same household at the same time as everyone else, and have a different perspective on our family and our lives. Supposedly, my uncle says he grew up in an almost-perfect household. Ahem! I lived in the same house as he from the time he was about 17. Albeit a little late in the stages of his growth, I was still raised by the same people.

My grandfather was the kindest, most lovable person I will ever know. He was funny and his presence could light up a room. He was one of 13 children and everyone adored him. However, he never went to a baseball game of my uncle's. I don't remember (or remember hearing of) him ever spending time alone with his children (except for me!) because he had two jobs and worked constantly. He also had a fairly decent social life of playing cards with his buddies and brothers at least twice a week. I will never fault him from having some sort of escape and enjoying himself away from home. I think it's what kept him sane. My grandmother was controlling, anxious and not sociable, and I remember her even telling him that he could never do anything right.

Before I go on, I must say that my grandfather definitely made up for not being present in his kids lives with me and my uncle's boys. He was the one who always got on the floor with us and let us jump all over him. He was the one who took me to the park, to the movies, and came to every one of my bowling games when I was 12 and on the bowling team. He was the one who always made me laugh. He was my hero, and my light.

ANYWAY, I just thought I'd share on this blog (especially since I haven't written in awhile) the photo montage that I put together for my Uncle's 50th Birthday. It made me reflect on our family's life from his perspective of having a great person for a father but who wasn't really there, and a mother who was... not June Cleaver. I think it actually made him a great father, who is always and I mean ALWAYS there for his boys. My uncle might not be the most ambitious but he always made time for his kids. He's worked nights for most of their lives and has lost so much sleep because he does so much for them during the day, he can't sleep anymore.

So here's to you, Uncle V. By the way, I'm only in one picture in this thing... I'm about 17 with big hair. My mom is the one with the red hair and fair skin and my grandfather is the old-looking guy with the little kids (my uncle's boys). You'll be able to figure out who my grandmother is. I didn't place these pictures in chronological order for this montage, so they kind of jump around a bit. I wanted to put the right pics to the words to the song instead.

Halloween!

2006-11-03T07:45:00.000-05:00

Halloween is my favorite holiday. No obligations to make (or eat) a big dinner, no visits with family we never see, no presents to buy and spending millions of dollars. We just dress up, knock on our neighbors doors and have fun (those are my neighbors in the background, by the way -- I'm not good at fixing pictures so unfortunately, they're gonna have to stay in).

Ladybug was Sleeping Beauty. She wanted to be Buzz Lightyear but I kinda talked her out of that. Daddy wore his mask from his Zorro costume and I wore my big hippie afro wig with Elvis-type sunglasses.

We had a blast. I live on a great street that's about 1/4 mile long and everyone comes here for trick-or-treating because our neighbors down the street transform their entire property into a real haunted house. They start decorating in September. So we walk around pretty early, and get home in time to hand out some candy ourselves. It was a good day.

Mourning a Loss

2006-10-24T11:00:00.000-04:00

I still felt something going on between my bff and me. Something is not right and there's a certain distance that I can't bear anymore. So this morning I sent her this poem I quickly wrote:

Mourning a Loss

I couldn’t fall asleep last night
After I was interrupted by a pitter of little feet approaching
And then the sound of snoring softly next to me
My love

Then I couldn’t shake
The dream that was interrupted
Where I was with you and your family
In the big red living room
Sipping tea

I’ve mourned a lot in my lifetime
And now I know what it is when I’m going through it
The five stages
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

The grieving is for the loss of you
Somewhere along the way
Maybe I’ve said confessed too much
And scared you away

As I bargain with you here I say
I’m sorry and whatever I’ve done I can fix
Can’t I?
I’m sorry I am no longer a part of your world
Like I used to be when you were hundreds of miles away

If you are my sister
Than we can have a bump in the road
Go back, dig it up
And then pave it smooth
In this case I hope that water is thicker than blood

I feel like we are in two different worlds
Although I might be without food, water or sunlight
I’m never without hope
But I think you just want me to get on that spaceship
And fly away

I’m sorry if I’ve said things to make you run
I’m sorry if I’ve done things to bring us further apart
To downgrade our talks to the weather
And not about every detail of our lives

There are so many times I feel the distance
It weakens me, it overcomes me, it hurts
The disappointment only gets worse
And now I expect it

Maybe I’m still in denial
And all good things come to an end
Sometimes these stages intertwine
And only time can pull me out

So today I want no promises
No denial
I don’t want to see any defenses
No gloves up, no boxing match
I just want to pave the road
And see where it leads

Challah bread

2006-10-21T09:23:00.000-04:00

My daughter attends nursery school at a YMHA -- the Village People spoke about the "Christian" sector, this is the "Hebrew" one -- I wonder if maybe Adam Sandler can come up with a parody.

We're Catholic but I love exposing Samantha to other religions, cultures, traditions and ways of life. Part of the reason why I love New York City is because of it's diversity.

Anyway, I think this nursery program is great -- she attends 5 days a week for almost 3 hours each day -- and she loves it. I didn't even blink when they told me they were going to learn a little bit about the Jewish traditions in this class. So every Friday, they observe Shabbat and light a candle. This week one of the teachers had made some Challah bread. I love any kind of bread, and I first tasted this when a friend of mine at work brought some in years ago. The light sweet taste of this fluffy bread is extremely yummy...

So as we're driving home from school, Ladybug takes it out of her bag. "Look what I got, Mommy!" I turn around and see a piece of the yummy bread in a plastic bag. "Ooooh, I love that bread! Do you know what kind it is?" I ask. "Yeah," she says, "It's Halloween bread!"

Fear

2006-10-19T14:08:00.000-04:00

Some of us let fear run our lives. I was raised by someone who feared everything and had no aspirations.

This weekend I went to brunch with said person (my grandmother), my Aunt J, her husband, and of course, Ladybug. I love these people dearly but I'm not sure what planet they're on. Aunt J is all-in-one for me: mother-figure, sister, aunt, friend. She's the closest person to me. However, she is the person in the family who is the perfectionist constantly looking for her mother's approval. In her eyes, her mother (my grandmother) has done no wrongdoing, and will defend her incessantly. In my eyes, my grandmother was afraid of living (and still is). She never encouraged me to do anything and actually, thought extracurricular activities, socializing, and a higher education were all a waste of time.

So at brunch we were talking about how my 18 year-old cousin is succumbing to the pressure of his father to get a job by applying to be a toll booth collector (just like his father, my mother's brother, Uncle V). At dinner I proceeded to express my disappointment in this decision of having no aspirations. And Aunt J says, "I don't know where he gets it from. It's not like we were told we couldn't do anything growing up." Is she crazy? I had no comment at the time but IS SHE CRAZY?

Here's how it went for me:

* "You can't do anything right."
* "Why would you want to join the swim team and wake up early 3x a week before school?"
* "No, you can't join the baseball team."
* "I'll send you to dance school but you're not going to be in the recital."
* She once told the family: "Stacy is not going to apply to any high schools because she won't get in -- she's just an average student."
* "Why do you want to go to college? Just become a secretary like Aunt J."
* "You're just going to college because your boyfriend wants you to."
* "Birthday cakes are for babies. You're big now, you don't need a cake."

So today at 35 years old, I'm still haunted by these words. And I'm still just learning that I can do whatever the hell I want to. When I first got married, I was afraid to make dinner because I never cooked before (I wasn't allowed in the kitchen growing up) and I was afraid to screw it up. Hello?! How else am I going to learn? It's taken me years to realize that even the smallest of failures is a learning experience and it's O-K. I didn't even make my bed growing up because I would never do it good enough.

And it frustrates me that today, Gram barely leaves the house, and has an excuse for why there is nothing in this world that she can do. Television is her only hobby. It infuriates me beyond description. She has fear of change, of failure, of taking a chance, of being less than perfect in anything, and maybe even fear of being happy.

The Departed

2006-10-17T09:02:00.000-04:00

Jack Nicholson. Leonardo DiCaprio. Matt Damon. Mark Wahlberg. Martin Sheen. Alec Baldwin. Martin Scorsese. Best movie I've seen in years!

Read a review. Go see it!

Aspirations

2006-10-13T11:00:00.000-04:00

as·pi·ra·tion : noun : a strong desire to achieve something high or great; b : an object of such desire.

Some aspire to be superheroes. They want to make a difference not only to the people around us but to the world. Some aspire to excel at their careers, at their sport, at anything they do. Some aspire to be in the history books. To discover, to create, to achieve greatness.

Some aspire to do well and perhaps not achieve superhero-greatness but just be great in their own lives: aspire to be a good friend, a good son/daughter, a good parent, husband/wife, bill payer, house keeper, etc.

Some have no aspirations. Maybe they have dreams but don't feel them to be attainable. Maybe they stopped aspiring because of all the failure in their lives. Maybe they were taught that success just happens to other people -- the lucky people. I think a lot of people live with the aspiration that you should skate through life without working hard. And those are the people who wonder why they weren't selected in this World of Luck and Chance to be the The Chosen One.

What are your aspirations? Who do you want to be? What do you want to achieve, and are you doing it? Are you on the right track? If not, how can you get there?

Currently, I aspire to be a good mother who will have a long-lasting close relationship with my daughter. I aspire to be the parent that my child can come to for advice, friendship and a soft place to fall. I aspire to create a well-rounded child who is compassionate, strong-willed and driven. I aspire to teach my child that they sky is the limit and that failure is just a part of the lesson. I aspire to be a good tennis player that can win a local tournament or two (I've got a long way to go for that!). I aspire to be a good wife. And I will never aspire to being a good housekeeper (sorry, dear husband, but I hope you can realize the difference.)

Perhaps you can share with me what your aspirations are right at this moment and if you feel you are achieving them. And if not, perhaps you should tweek your aspirations to be achievable for you. Dream. Aspire. Live.

Happy Kids, Messy Pumpkins

2006-10-11T07:56:00.000-04:00

The kids had a great time making a mess of their pumpkins (my Ladybug is the one in the lime green shirt). I've become pretty close friends with the moms and they've been so supportive to me -- I am so thankful. And I had a great time trying to get a handle on the insanity and organize lunch and make pumpkin bread all at the same time. Multi-tasking is a great way to keep the mind occupied. It was a blast.

Make it a Good Day Today

2006-10-09T07:39:00.000-04:00

When I'm a bit down, I find it hard to admit it but then I end up not leaving the house. My husband points this out to me, and then I realize that maybe I am not doing as good as I thought since I haven't really left the house since Thursday.

So, today, I'm going to turn it around. I'm going to run a couple of errands and buy some pumpkins for me and Ladybug to decorate for Halloween. I'm going to go to the grocery store, buy those cute carvers and funny faces and maybe invite some friends over. It's going to be in the high 70s today, so we can do this outside in the backyard and make a big mess on the deck. Maybe I should unload all those Disney pictures from the camera today and take some pictures...

So, whatever you do today, make it a good day... just for me, 'k? Even if you're a working stiff (like I used to be), take a few minutes and take a walk, buy yourself a great book to read on the way home, listen to your favorite tunes, whatever it is that gives you comfort and makes you feel like this is the reason why you're in this world...

And if you feel like it, take a quick visit to Three Beautiful Things for some inspiration; it definitely helped me this morning.

If I Ain't Got You

2006-10-08T09:03:00.000-04:00

Just some feel good music. This is one of my favorite songs of all time.

The "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" Rule of the First Trimester

2006-10-07T11:08:00.000-04:00

We have so many unwritten rules in our society and various cultures. I am someone who frequently goes along with tradition and these "rules" but sometimes I question or challenge them -- I mean, who doesn't? And why not?

For example, I went against the rule that you must wear your Engagement-Ring-and-Wedding-Band-on-the-Same-Finger Rule and wore one ring on each ring finger. Some people were like, "Why would you do that?!" Umm, "Because I want to" was a sufficient answer for me. I also go against the Dont-Eat-Meat-on-Fridays-During-Lent Rule of the Catholic religion. And there are these weird Catholics (who only on occasion go to church) but for some reason eating meat is a cardinal sin in their books. I guess we all have our own rule books.

Just recently, I thought I learned the hard way that I should not have gone against the rule of Dont-Ask-Dont-Tell-About-Your-Pregnancy-in-the-First-Trimester. I told everyone just after I took a home pregnancy test. I was happy for crying out loud!! And I thought that since I had a successful pregnancy the first time, there would be no problems this time. I was wrong, and sadly, I miscarried.

The first thing I thought was that I would never tell anyone before 12 weeks again. How stupid could I have been? Now I have to go back and tell the world that I lost my pregnancy. So, the next day, I woke up and sent out emails and called people and cried a little.

Now, two days later, I've realized that there's this secret world of lost pregnancies and of women who cry alone... or just with their husbands. I've heard more about miscarriages and bad outcomes from friends and family I didn't even know about. To be honest, I feel better. I feel more supported. And I feel blessed because my situation isn't as bad as some of the other stories I've heard.

So today, I'm changing my position... slightly. While I'm not going to holler from the rooftops like I did with this pregnancy, next time, I'm going to tell a more selected group. I'm still going to tell the friends and family who I feel a connection to, who have shared their stories, who I have something in common with. People don't get closer, more intimate with each other unless we share our difficult times, our experiences that leave us a little more vulnerable.

I initially created this blog because I felt I didn't have an outlet to tell people how I really felt -- why not? Because in some way, I didn't want to get let down, get hurt, get rejected. But the more I open up and say what my heart feels I find the more others will reciprocate. I'm learning that it's the only way to build real relationships.

Spontaneous Abortion

2006-10-06T05:57:00.000-04:00

That's what they call it when you have a miscarriage. Doesn't that sound a little harsh? I was only 6 weeks pregnant and only knew I was for the past two weeks. These past two weeks have been fun, though... daydreaming about baby, etc.

It's a strange thing. After I felt that I knew what happened, I dropped My Little Ladybug off with a friend and rushed to the emergency room. Some emergency. I sat there for two hours in the waiting room. The emergency room was so crowded and they only had two rooms with sonogram machines there, so I sat and waited. I guess I didn't understand that I really didn't have an emergency since the miscarriage had already happened. It was a tough day.

Thankfully, though, I had no cramping at all. None. It was really weird. Even with the spotting I had for days, I kept reading and hearing that I shouldn't be alarmed unless I had some cramping. I even had a successful sonogram with my doctor yesterday, who said everything looked fine. It just wasn't my time. The best thing I read on the internet (and the doctors told me at the hospital as well) is that a miscarriage is a way of dispelling an abnormal pregnancy.

Unfortunately, I told the world that I was pregnant. Friends, family, everyone. I guess I learned the hard way not to tell anyone about a pregnancy in the first trimester. I was thinking that my first pregnancy went without a hitch, so why would this one be a problem? Little did I know.

I found this article about miscarriages, and I actually found it quite comforting and informative. We'll certainly be trying again once my body is up to it.

What to Expect -- Why Pregnancies Come to an Unexpected End

Good-bye, Fat Cat

2006-10-03T10:28:00.000-04:00

We had to put my cat down on Sunday morning. I'm not one of those crazy bloggers who themes their site on a lovable cat or dog. But I am an animal lover we have two cats and one dog. Sadly, my eldest cat, which was renamed Fat Cat by my little Ladybug, had to be put to rest. She had many ailments -- cancer and other things, and we finally had to say good-bye.

This cat holds a special place in my heart for many reasons: she was given to me by my old boyfriend's brother. You see, my boyfriend of 8 years died tragically in 1995. He was 24 years old. We were together ever since I was 16. We grew up together, and probably would have gotten married. A couple of years before he died, we inherited Fat Cat from his brother, who was moving around a lot at the time.

Saying good-bye to Fat Cat was like officially closing that chapter in my life, even though I have moved on and married, etc. She was the one thing left lingering from my past.

So Good-Bye, Fat Cat. And say hello to Freddie for me in heaven.

Back from Disney

2006-10-01T12:30:00.000-04:00

We're back from Disney!

(woops, sorry I didn't mention that I was going away for awhile.)

Anyway, we had a great time and maybe I'll download a few pictures from our trip. I think we walked about 20 miles.

Gotta go unpack, and get settled into real life again. And I hope I don't eat another french fry for the rest of the year! What's up with the meal choices in these parks? Fried, fried, fried. It's hard to eat a balanced meal there. No wonder why this country has weight problems! And of course, I couldn't resist the temptation. Who doesn't like anything fried?

I gotta get settled and go grocery shopping for some healthy choices.

Making fun

2006-09-23T08:39:00.000-04:00

All the kids on my block used to make fun of me. I used to say it was because I was always so bony skinny but I think they knew that I was weak, unconfident, and would take their crap.

There was this one asian kid who was the ring leader, Wing. He was about a year younger than me and would always and I mean always get everyone else going. I was in first or second grade when they moved onto the block, and that's when it started. He would say something in that sing-songy evil voice "Stacy is a blah-blah -- NA NA NA NA NA NA" and I would chase him (yes, I am disclosing my name -- it's a little weird but it just doesn't seem right putting a fake name in that quote since I can actually hear it running in my head over and over). Then everyone would join in and I would have to run after everyone. I never caught anybody and to be honest, I don't know what I would have done if I did. I really just wanted them to stop and be my friend.

Sometimes I would run away, far far away.... around the block and hide in this driveway. I would sit there and cry and hope that someone would come find me. Sometimes they did and on girl, Lisa, who pretended to be my friend, would bring me back.

It was this horrible game, this horrible cycle I let myself be a part of. They suckered me into so many things all the time and I would do it, take it, just to hang out with them. I wish I had more of a backbone but no one taught me how. My grandmother used to tell me to "just walk away." Ugh. How about "Stand up for yourself!" Why didn't she ever tell me to do that?

Well now, my daughter is in a similar, much less drastic debacle and I need advice. She's only 3 1/2 but she has this one 4-year old friend who is a ring leader, a kid who likes to make fun. But her mom lets her get away with it because her sing-songy evil voice is saying things like, "Ladybug is a Bunny Rabbit. NA NA NA NA NAAA NA." And my poor little Ladybug hates it. But she just whines and cries and says "STOP IT!" The more her "friend" does it, the more she whines and cries.

I've told the "friend's" mother that we really don't like that kind of talk, and sometimes she will scold her kid but not always. I've even told the kid to stop myself and she doesn't. Sure, maybe my daughter is slightly easy to tease because of her overly dramatic and somewhat sensitive personality. I think the mother sees my daughter as a kid who needs to grow a little bit of a backbone. But honestly, my kid is not like I was. She's far from shy, pretty confident and very outgoing.

And I try to explain to Ladybug that if she would just stop crying about it and ignore it, maybe her friend would stop. I tell her to ignore this kid and go play with the other kids. I try to tell her do the same thing back. I try to tell her to tell her friend that she isn't going to play with her if she keeps it up. Sometimes these things work and sometimes they don't.

What I want to my little Ladybug, is to punch her "friend" in the mouth. Is that wrong? That must be wrong.

Does Tom & Jerry Offend You?

2006-09-18T07:20:00.000-04:00

Things have been pretty quiet on the home-front... for now. Nothing to write about really, although I have been having this weird recurring dream... maybe I'll discuss another day. I know why I'm having it, which makes it much less mysterious and interesting.

Anyway, some time ago I came across this blog, My So-Called Strife. I like this guy's humor, it's riddled with sarcasm. The entry about how some people found episodes of the original Tom & Jerry series offensive had me laughing out loud and I actually went back a few times to read it again for another laugh.

I had to keep his collage of offensive Tom & Jerry episodes in my pictures file because it was just too good to pass up. Here's his entry on the subject:

http://kirkkitsch.blogspot.com/2006/08/nuckin-futz.html

Thanks, Kirk!

Dinner with my Father

2006-09-12T08:00:00.000-04:00

My father decided to join us for dinner on my birthday. Wow, that is so weird.

Not to bore you with the gory details, but my father wasn't really present in my life growing up. After my parents divorced (when I was under 2 years old), he rarely visited me until my mother threatened to change my name to her maiden name. Not sure when that was, but then he decided to become the Sunday visitor.

My father was (and still is) a charming, smart, funny, good-looking Puerto Rican man. Tall, dark and handsome. He has a beautiful deep, soft voice and a wonderful personality. He has a million friends and everyone loves him... he was one of those guys who is a great friend but a crappy husband/father.

I have such mixed emotions and mixed memories about those Sunday visits. I remember waiting (for what seemed like hours) for him to pick me up -- he was often LATE. I remember playing mostly with my uncle (his brother, who is just 2 years older than me) at the park while he played paddle ball with his buddies and smoked a lot of weed. I remember going back to his house to eat Kentucky Fried Chicken only to find his big german shepard named Hatch had peed on the floor, and my father would proceed to beat him senseless. Poor doggy. He was such a good boy really.

But there are so many great things that I remember about our adventures: going to museums, the aquarium, the beach, the movies, bike riding (in the STREET!), boat rides -- we did so many fun things. I loved to go to my Abuela's house for dinner and she would make arroz con gandules and all that great Puerto Rican food. I remember his many girlfriends with their long red fingernails and bright makeup. I remember hearing everyone around me speak that beautiful Spanish language around me while I longed to have him teach me what they were saying.

I remember playing hide-and-seek with him where he would pretend to be this monster going "ROOOAAAARRR!!!" But whenever he found me, he kissed and tickled me endlessly. I still think I long to be found that way.

I remember there was a time for about a year where he didn't come on Sundays and I was stuck in my step-grandparents house with my mother. Not that I dislike them, but I was so completely bored just sitting in their house waiting for dinner, eating dinner, then going home. Not sure where he was during this time. Maybe going through his own difficult time, maybe he thought I didn't want to be with him, not really sure.

Needless to say, when I was with him I often felt like an outsider paying a visit to an inside world. But I loved my father's mysterious world, his apartments, his language, his friends. He seemed so free of anything and always just did what he wanted. I was sad every time I had to go home even though he and I never really spoke to each other much. I was always pretty quiet.

So, my father called me on my birthday and I invited him to join my husband, Ladybug and me for dinner. He surprisingly accepted. We went to Morton's, a fairly expensive steak house. He loves steak but not sure if he's ever had it at this price. My father seems to be at a crossroads these days, he recently moved out of his house away from his wife and teenage son. I think he has a girlfriend, actually, which doesn't surprise me one bit. Someone was calling him every 15 minutes during dinner.

In some way, he was the outsider looking in at dinner that night. I'm pretty much a stranger to him now, and here he is sitting with my husband and daughter. We're all talking about separate vacations, separate parties, sharing separate stories... as if we don't know each other. It was slightly uncomfortable for both of us but I'm glad he was there.

Overall, it was nice to have him enter my world for a night. And I wouldn't mind it happening more often. I just wish he wasn't late all the time.

A Day of Remembrance

2006-09-11T07:19:00.000-04:00

I remember everything about this day, September 11th, 2001. I'm just a simple New Yorker who was working as usual in my Rockefeller Center building. I remember the fear, the helplessness. I remember watching it unfold on live TV on the 28th floor of an office building and I felt terrified. I remember that I so desperately just wanted to get home. I wondered who I knew that may have worked in those buildings. The phone literally rang off the hook. I'm grateful that I didn't lose anyone in my family, although I knew a wonderful co-worker I worked with some years prior who was a wonderful man.

But I still grieved. Not only for him, but for all those who have died, for the buildings that fell, the planes that crashed, the families who lost so much. Going to my former co-worker's church service had to be part my grieving process even though I really didn't know him that well. We had to do something, feel a part of somewhere, feel the strength of others and grieve together.

I've grieved so much in my life prior to this event that I knew I had to go through it. They say there are 5 stages of grief and I knew I had to feel them all: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. We were all walking around during this time, some grieving more than others but we were all grieving on some level. Some were even grieving the fact that they survived, and feeling the guilt.

My little blog can't even make a dent into the feelings and emotions that ran through on that day, and on the world after it. But in some way, it helps me to express my own feelings and just remember my own account of where I was, who I was with, how I dealt with it.

So today I will watch the news reports. I will hear the stories once again of some of the people who were lost, of the heroes, of their children and families. It's necessary to feel it, to remember it. Last night I watched the documentary of the brothers who were filming a rookie fire fighter on that day and remembered, reflected, and cried.

Birthday Thoughts

2006-09-08T08:15:00.000-04:00

Today is my 35th birthday. Wow, that number sounds old to me, although I really don't feel old. I'll be 40 in 5 short years! Although, these days I know 35 really isn't THAT old, but ever since my daughter was born, I'm feeling a sense of my own mortality. I'm afraid that crap I've been eating is going to cause me to have a heart attack, that I'm going to get cervical cancer, or that I'll have some rare disease and die a painful death. I wouldn't say I'm a hypochondriac, but there's probably a phobia for having a "fear of death." It actually keeps me awake at night sometimes, thinking about what it will feel like to die, what I'll be missing in my daughter's life, how my husband will react and move on. Ho hum.

Anyway, I don't want to bring you down too low or anything! I woke up bright and early this morning, showered with makeup and hair done all before I woke Ladybug for school. In some ways I'm looking forward to this day. Friends and family calling to wish me a Happy Birthday, going to a special dinner tonight with my husband and Ladybug...

I saw one of my cousins last night who is turning 30 this year, and who just got back from a fabulous vacation in Greece with her college friends. She's doing well in her career, and we have a lot in common in that department -- drive, dedication, pride in our work. And she said to me, "I would be very happy to have my life where yours is at 35. Your career is said and done, you're married, you have a house and a child. I hope I'm where you are by then." That was a very big compliment to me.

And I do look pretty damn good for my age!
(even though saying that is some sort of back-handed compliment in my opinion but I'll take it)

13 Things I Plan To Do While Ladybug is in School

2006-09-07T09:30:00.000-04:00

School has begun! And in honor of my first Thirteen Thursday, I'm going to try to be a little funny. There are a TON of things I plan to do while my little Ladybug is in nursery school. But those things are pretty boring: clean out my closets, catch up on laundry, shop for groceries, go the gym, etc.

Instead, here's a list of 13 Things I ~~Would Never Really~~ Plan To Do While Ladybug is in School:

Take a nap.
Mess up my husband's organized closet and when he asks say, "Wow, I don't know what the hell happened in here!" (he's wayyy too organized)
Watch porn.
Smoke a joint.
Have an quickie with the gardner.
Eat a whole Entemann's Devil's Food Cake.
Drink a Cosmopolitan, glass of Sangria or do a shot of Lemon Vodka.
Drive to a dive bar and have a beer.
Masturbate.
Smoke a few cigarettes.
Throw out all my bills.
Say "FUUUUCCCCKKK" at the top of my lungs while standing out in the middle of the street (believe it or not, I rarely ever say that word).
Set the dog free and see if she comes back.

Happy Thirteen Thursday! :-)

"Final Score is Love" - Andre Agassi's last match

2006-09-04T15:04:00.000-04:00

It's unfortunate that I found a certain passion for tennis so late in life. I remember when I was a kid how my mother used to have a crush on Andre Agassi. "I dreamt about him last night!" she said one day with such fervor. My stepfather has played tennis for as long as I can remember and he's even an instructor now at his local club. Somehow I was never into the game. I hate to say it but I think I was waiting for someone to want me to have an interest in the game.

Anyway this year, I have played tennis at least once a week, and even played in a doubles league this past season. And I wish I could play more. Today, I'm trying to learn a lot about the current and legendary players, study the technical aspect of the game, and become a true fan.

I'm absolutely ecstatic to say that for Andre Agassi's last match -- I was there. My mother, who was watching my little Ladybug while we were out, even called me at the beginning of the match to say, "I see you on TV!" That was how close we were!!

My husband and I were one of the 21,000+ fans who gave Agassi the 8-minute long standing ovation; we were one of the few who were there to cry with him in that stadium, and hear his words of greatness.

I'm so happy I married an avid tennis fan for more reasons than one. It's given me a new passion in life, a big attitude about my own game (albeit very much a beginner's game), and allowed me to partake in tennis history.

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/09/04/sports/tennis/04tennis.html?ref=sports

Two Feet In; lunch with boogies

2006-09-02T09:09:00.000-04:00

Boogies is the nickname my best friend and I call each other. I have no idea why.

So, I went into the city yesterday and had lunch with Boogies. It was just like it always was: catching up on current events of our lives, giggling about silly stories, her telling me all the things she doesn't like (and I say that in a suprisingly endearing way).

Throughout the years, I've always accepted the fact that she doesn't like coffee, hates mushrooms and any kind of fish, and despises alcohol. That's Just Who She Is and I love her for that. And I'm pretty sure she still loves me even if I don't always take her advice. I wonder if she realizes she's slightly controlling and plays a mother role. I need to realize that just because we get on each other's nerves sometimes, it doesn't mean we're going to break up. Regardless, she's still my Boogies and no matter what, this simple little lunch with just she and I (my little Ladybug was with my aunt for the day so I was thankfully FREE) showed me that she doesn't have one foot out the door; she's got both feet in... hopefully for the rest of our lives.

People come in and out...

2006-08-30T21:48:00.000-04:00

My husband always tells me, "People are going to come in and out of your lives." I hate it when he says that.

He says I hate it because I don't want to hear the truth. YEAH... so what?! Maybe I don't. I don't like when people come in and especially OUT of my life. It bugs me. And here I sit mourning the loss of a friend whom I feel has one foot out the door.

My best friend and I have been close for over 15 years. We worked side-by-side together, I was 19 and she was 31 when we met. I was a kid and she was a mother of two: an 11-year old girl and 13-year old boy. We clicked instantly and had lots of fun together. But looking back on it now, the roles were that I was The Kid and she was The Adult. I lived at home and had long-term boyfriend. She was a real adult who did her own laundry, paid her own bills, cared for her own children. But I loved to hang out at her house. I would even offer to help her do her laundry and loved to stay over for dinner. There I was, searching for that mother figure.

Anyway, our friendship had stood the test of time, even when she moved back to Toronto about four years later. I would visit a few times a year. I loved to visit her, to escape my own life, to enter hers. I loved the inquisitive questions she would ask me and the interest she had in the goings on of my life. I never had someone who cared so much.

Now, time has gone by and I'm a full-fledged adult doing my own laundry, paying my own bills and caring for my own child. And she's got an empty nest, trying to make a go at a good career, very secure in her marriage... and living back in NYC.

But my life now is complicated, not always fun and seems to be always problematic. I'm not that little girl who used to run to her in Toronto for a few days of solace. I have nowhere to run, and feel unable to anyway because of my attachments here. She can't save me, protect me, mother me. And I sense that she's frustrated.

I've told her once before, that no matter what she would ask of me, I would do it. But I know, in turn, she will not. She will not drive to my house on the traffic-jammed LIE to babysit just because I would prefer to have my child in her own bed, on time. She wants me to be less rigid sometimes, more rigid others, and definitely, a stronger person all the time.

But also, I'm not who I was. And I'm not who she wants me to be. And I almost feel apologetic for that. I just wish our connection could always remain the same, even if we change. I don't feel accepted by her anymore. Rather, I feel judged and constantly rejected. I never thought I would.

We're supposed to meet for lunch on Friday in the city. I feel that for the sake of our relationship, I need to confront this problem head on. It's my only chance to save us. But my fear is that her other foot will meet the one that is already out the door.

The Brother I Didn't Get

2006-08-27T21:46:00.000-04:00

I used to think my Mom and her brother (pictured here, circa 1980), were coool people.

Here's a little bit about my story that I have not yet told. My parents had me when they were 19 years old. Being too young and irresponsible, my father cheated on my mother and they broke up when I was about 2. Mom had to go out and get a job full-time to support us... yadda yadda yadda, I end up living with my grandparents when I was about 2 1/2.

At the time I moved into my grandparents' apartment, my Uncle V and Aunt J were still living at home. They were just about 17 and 19 respectively. Although my Uncle was rarely ever home, I idolized him. I thought he was good-looking, cool, and a great guy. For years, I remember pining for his attention by trying to dance with him or even by telling him a dirty joke (that I got in trouble for) when he stopped in quickly to iron a shirt. And I actually remember the one time he took me to the park. I was ecstatic. Maybe I was looking for a father figure, or maybe... just a big brother. We could have had so much potential for a good relationship. For some reason, he was never around and up until now I just chalked it up to being a young adult wanting to party and hang out with his friends.

So he's turning 50 this year. He lives farthest from any of us, and rarely comes to family events. He comes so seldomly that other relatives stopped inviting him... even me. I wonder why he's always kept his distance. I wonder what baggage he carries, what cobwebs are in his suitcase.

I wonder if he's pondering his life as I am pondering my life with him in it, as he turns 50. I've been asked to create a slide-show montage to music for his party (something I've done for past family members). So, now I see his life before me in pictures. As a baby, a pre-teen, a family man. I see his many smiles in these pictures, but have seen few of them in real life. I wonder, if at 50, does he feel complete? Does he feel he has accomplished what he wanted with his life? Does he think he would have made his father proud? I hope so.

I can't help but get emotional when I play his video montage in still an uncompleted state. I'm missing so many pictures from his teens, 20's and 30's. Where did he go? Where has he been? Who is this man who used to sit me on his shoulders while he did his pushups in the living room? My mother has lots of pictures from this time and plans to email them to me.

I see him now a couple of times a year and for the most part, he just looks tired, frustrated, and unfulfilled. He doesn't seem to want to have a good time when he's around us. He would much rather sleep. I wonder why he keeps people so far away from his heart. And I wonder if he has any regrets about not being a big brother to me as I cannot find a single picture of the two of us together.

I'm happy to say that it seems to me that he's always been there for his two sons, now about 17 and 12. He's been very active in their lives and caretaking. Admittedly, I'm a little jealous, even now at 35. Somehow I always end up feeling the way I did when I was a little girl.

Anyway, the song I've chosen for his montage will be The Riddle by Five for Fighting. The "You and I" in this song can be translated into so many people: father and son, husband and wife, for anyone who loves another and is looking for the answer to the meaning of life.

http://www.myspace.com/fiveforfighting

The Riddle

by Five for Fighting

There was a man back in '95

Whose heart ran out of summers

But before he died, I asked him
Wait, what's the sense in life

Come over me, Come over me

He said,
"Son why you got to sing that tune

Catch a Dylan song or some eclipse of the moon

Let an angel swing and make you swoon

Then you will see... You will see."

Then he said,
"Here's a riddle for you

Find the Answer

There's a reason for the world

You and I..."

Picked up my kid from school today

Did you learn anything cause in the world today

You can't live in a castle far away

Now talk to me, come talk to me

He said,
"Dad I'm big but we're smaller than small

In the scheme of things, well we're nothing at all

Still every mother's child sings a lonely song

So play with me, come play with me"

And Hey Dad

Here's a riddle for you

Find the Answer

There's a reason for the world

You and I...

I said,
"Son for all I've told you

When you get right down to the

Reason for the world...Who am I?"

There are secrets that we still have left to find

There have been mysteries from the beginning of time

There are answers we're not wise enough to see

He said... You looking for a clue I Love You free...

The batter swings and the summer flies

As I look into my angel's eyes

A song plays on while the moon is hiding over me

Something comes over me

I guess we're big and I guess we're small

If you think about it man you know we got it all

Cause we're all we got on this bouncing ball

And I love you free

I love you freely

Here's a riddle for you

Find the Answer

There's a reason for the world

You and I...

The Art of Music - Alanis Morissette

2006-08-24T08:21:00.000-04:00

Like art, music is subjective. A song can mean something to you that is totally different than the artist intended. Or, perhaps, you see what they see and you feel what they were feeling when it was created. There are so many songs throughout my life that bring back memories: memories of those hot 1970s summertime drives with my father during his obligatory Sunday visit, memories of hanging out with my my best friends at a club in my early 20s, memories of crying myself to sleep after my boyfriend of 8 years was killed one July night.

There are certain artists that have touched my life and have become a premiere member of my All-Time Favorites playlist on my iPod. I go to that playlist when I'm feeling nostalgic, emotional, passionate or want to sing at the top of my lungs while I vacuum.

For me, this week's song is Not the Doctor by Alanis Morissette. The entire album from 1995, Jagged Little Pill, is angry, emotional, intense, magnetic and contagious. To me, she is saying "I don't want you to project your shit on me, so look at me for who I am and be grateful for what you have."

Not the Doctor

by Alanis Morissette

I don't want to be the filler if the void is solely yours

I don't want to be your glass of single malt whiskey

Hidden in the bottom drawer

I don't want to be a bandage if the wound is not mine

Lend me some fresh air

I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to you

I don't want to be your babysitter

You're a very big boy now

I don't want to be your mother

I didn't carry you in my womb for nine months

Show me the back door

Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6

Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh

Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom

You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor

I don't want to be the sweeper of the egg shells that you walk upon

And I don't want to be your other half, I believe that 1 and 1 make 2

I don't want to be your food or the light from the fridge on your face

At midnight, hey

What are you hungry for

I don't want to be the glue that holds your pieces together

I don't want to be your idol

See this pedestal is high and I'm afraid of heights

I don't want to be lived through

A vicarious occasion

Please open the window

Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6

Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh

Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom

You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor

I don't want to live on someday when my motto is last week

I don't want to be responsible for your fractured heart

And it's wounded beat

I don't want to be a substitute for the smoke you've been inhaling

What do you thank me

What do you thank me for

Visiting hours are 9 to 5 and if I show up at 10 past 6

Well I already know that you'd find some way to sneak me in and oh

Mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom

You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor

Tying Loose Ends

2006-08-17T23:37:00.000-04:00

Well, this past Monday was my first training session with my new trainer after he scolded me. I've been avoiding him, and am only going back because I signed a friggin one-year contract. But to be honest, he gave me a great workout. And one that adhered to my atttention-deficit personality -- I get bored easily. He would have me do one exercise, then another different one, then another, then start the routine again. It was great, upbeat, and allowed the time to pass quickly with no time for "dead air" in between.

So thank you, New Personal Trainer, for not being a turd this week.

And, as for my BFF, I hope I didn't scare her further away. I told her how I felt hurt and neglected. She had a lot of "Buts" but I hope she heard me. The bottom line is that I love her like a sister, and only wish we were closer and spent more time together. I hope that is what she heard.

Oh, and I have one more addition to my Top 10 Men My DH Would Permit Me To Have A Sexual Encounter:

Josh Holloway, from "Lost"

Yummmmmmmm.....

Cricket Love

2006-08-14T08:50:00.000-04:00

This is an appropriate picture today because:

My dh and I are trying to conceive (ssshhhh! don't tell anyone)
I'm not much of a photographer and this one is kinda cool.
My daughter loves bugs. I told her they were mating and she told her Grammy, "Look, the crickets are eating!"
I'm trying to get more hits on my blog with 25peeps.com.
It's cricket season!!

Friendship

2006-08-11T07:14:00.000-04:00

"A friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away."

- Arabian Proverb

I dream constantly. I always remember my dreams, some of them in great detail with even sounds and smells, some of them so cryptic I can't even describe. But I actually love to dream, I enjoy it. In a way, I discover more about my feelings, and which feelings are strong enough for me to have in a dream.

Last night I dreamt of my old job and my BFF. I worked at an investment banking firm (let's call it Mitchell and Family) for 14 years until I quit to become a SAHM. I was at the pique of my career but felt like something was not right because I had this little girl waiting for me at home. When my husband got a promotion and big raise, we decided to give SAHMotherhood a try. I started at Mitchell and Family when I was just 19, so I feel I truly grew up there. I was well-respected and had been given some good opportunities. I was loyal. I also worked a lot of hours, sometimes if it were a big project, I'd work into the wee hours. I defined a lot of myself with this job. I was proud of myself. And it's actually been a bit of a struggle for me to adjust to "just" managing the house and caring for my daughter. Therefore, I dream a lot about work.

I also met my BFF at work about... hmmm... 15 years ago. She's from Toronto and eventually moved back there after about 3 years of living here (the first time). However, we kept in touch and stayed pretty close. I would visit her a couple times a year, she was Maid of Honor at my wedding. I felt that from the bottom of my soul, she was one of the few people to GET me and accept me for who I am. I could tell her anything and she was always so great at listening and giving advice. And admittedly, she was sort of a mother figure for me. She has two children who are in their 20s now, about 8 and 11 years younger than me and they're great kids. They are the kind of kids I would hope my children grow up to be someday.

About 6 years ago, Boogies (our nickname for each other) decided to move back to NY. I was thrilled. I thought our friendship would grow even more. And it just so happened that she was going to live very close to the neighborhood where I grew up. Unfortunately, I had just bought a house and was moving out to Queens, but I thought that would be no big deal since we had so many miles in between us before.

So Boogies settled in, and so did I, into our own lives. As it turns out, I think I see her less than when she lived in Canada. And the time has come to where she and her husband have decided to move back once again. The more I think about it, the more heartbroken I become. I thought we would be Two Peas in a Pod, inseparable. I thought we would know each other's daily lives and talk endlessly. I thought we would be going to the beach together, go shopping together, go to brunch together. But it didn't happen. And I'm not blaming her completely for it... we both always have some kind of excuse. And maybe my expectations are that of a little 12 year-old girl.

Hindsight is always 20/20. I feel like I see this so clearly now after I let 6 years go by. So, I called her a couple of weeks ago on the weekend to share my feelings. And she was uninterested, and said she was ready to take a Sunday afternoon nap. That hurt. I wanted her to feel the same way. And I thought we would have gotten together already, to chat, "to have tea." I wanted to talk about it for an hour, get teary together, laugh about it, and plan for our next meeting.

Anyway, it doesn't matter what happened in my dream. It was cryptic and weird just like all the others, but it was really about two of the losses I'm feeling right now: a career and identity of myself I left behind, and a friendship that had so much potential but just didn't bloom.

My Top 10 Male Celebrities

2006-08-07T14:26:00.000-04:00

Let's have some fun today! My husband and I always used to joke that we would each allow 10 celebrities that we would allow the other to have a sexual encounter with. Throughout the years, my list has changed constantly, but let's give it a go here:

1. Brad Pitt -- I know, I know, you might say he's overrated, but I liked him from the moment I saw him in Thelma and Louise... so there.

2. Owen Wilson -- this is a new addition for me, but I'm totally digging him lately. Although his recent movie, You, Me and Dupree totally sucked, I actually love that pouty look.

3. Robin Williams -- I LOVE his humor and Good Will Hunting is one of my favorite movies. I find a great sense of humor enormously sexy.

4. Justin Timberlake -- the younger guys actually don't always appeal to me. But THIS guy is sooo smooth. I would love to just be one of the girls he humps in a video! Although his "wigga-ness" is a slight turnoff, that's ok, I'm not looking to have any conversation with this guy!

5. Matt Damon -- this Boston-hood type guy is very sexy to me. In the movie Good Will Hunting, he "had me at Hello." That young man trying to find his way is something I totally relate to. It doesn't hurt that he's got a smile that could light up a room.

6. Lenny Kravitz -- I don't care what this man wears, he is the epitome of cool. He is sexy beyond sexy. He oooooozes sexy.

7. Matthew McConaughey -- although he seems completely FULL of himself, he has every reason to be. This cowboy has looks that could kill!!

8. Jake Weber (the husband on TV show Medium) -- not bad looking, but I looove his character on the show. What husband would have no problems with their psychic wife waking them up constantly in the middle of the night with her "I see dead people" problems. On top of that, he usually is fine with frequently taking the kids to school late and handling dinner at the drop of a hat. And his deep sexy voice just makes me want to listen to whatever he has to say!

9. George Clooney -- yes, I know he's probably on just about every woman's list. And years ago, I refused to put him on mine simply for that reason. But after seeing many interviews and walks on the red carpet, I must agree that he's so charismatic, funny and SMART. I guess he might have some sort of problem with commitment or intimacy, which is why he isn't married, but I'll take him!!

10. Lance Armstrong -- to say this man is driven is an understatement. The whole Live Strong campaign just made him even more sexy to me. And I was particularly sad to hear that he and Sheryl Crow broke up. I thought they were a great couple.

Dreaming of Kim

2006-08-03T07:53:00.000-04:00

I don't have a recurring dream, I have a recurring person in my dream. I don't know why my psyche is constantly reminded and haunted by her. I mean, of course I know how our friendship started and finished, and I accredit her to saving my preteen life.

As a preteen, I was super-skinny and lanky with braces. In prior years, I became the butt of the jokes for the kids on my block. Kids can sense a weak, uncertain and unconfident kid. The bullies push them around because they know they won't push back. I was the one they all made fun of, and sometimes then, the others would join in and it became a game. I think they knew I would do anything and take everything just to hang out with them. In school, I always had just a few friends, and always clung to a best friend. (You'll hear more about my best friends throughout this blog, as they all played an important role in my history.) At twelve years old, Kim befriended me and the heavens opened up.

Kim was the smartest in the class. Not the prettiest, but her friendly and quietly confident disposition was a magnet for teachers and students alike. Everyone always knew she would get a perfect score on her exam, no matter the subject. I was awed because I held her so high and she was always so cordial, even to me, the Invisible One.

In the seventh grade, we were assigned a project to complete in teams. The teacher teamed me up with a great group: Nicole, Colleen, myself and KIM. I was amazed and astounded. I had won the lottery. Kim, of course, took the lead in the project and immediately invited us all REGULARLY over to work on it!! I still remember the first day I walked to her house. I was excited and scared and honored.

I don't remember what the project was or the grade we got (I'm sure it had to be an "A" with Kim on our team), but that's when the friendship began. Kim didn't become my Best Friend, but she was my favorite friend. She lived on a block with such nice kids, mostly our age, not like the rugrats that lived on my block. I became a person in that circle who was valued, who fit in, who mattered. I was no longer the skinny kid that everyone made fun of. Because of Kim, I was part of a circle, Kim's Circle.

I've Googled her name before (a very uncommon Italian name) and I discovered that she's married with at least one child, and still lives in the NYC area. In my dream, I was in her giant backyard, watching her family swim in her inground pool. I just remember thinking, "Wow, I finally found her... and of course, she's successful with a big house."

I wonder what she's really doing, how she is and if she ever thinks about me.

My Social Butterfly

2006-08-03T00:35:00.000-04:00

My daughter, Ladybug, is the only girl in this picture.

I am so proud of her. This was taken this past June for her cousin Chance's birthday (he's the first boy on the left). Ladybug idolizes Chance. For the first year-and-a-half of her life, Chance came over every day for 12 hours with his mom to babysit while I went to work.

Anyway, the reason for this picture is because this is Chance's 6th birthday party in my Aunt's backyard (aka Chance's Nana). She barely knows anyone at this party, yet she's sitting right there with the big boys eating Pixie Dust Sugar Sticks and Flying Saucer ice cream.

My social butterfly. She will walk up to anyone and say, "Hi. Wanna play with me?" I was so the opposite when I was a kid. Although I wanted to play, I was to shy to make the initial introduction. Still am. But from a young age, I've socialized Ladybug. The one trait that I didn't want her to have of mine is her fear of making friends. So now, she's outgoing, fun, and a ball to hang out with, no matter how old you are.

Heat Wave in New York City!

2006-08-01T23:10:00.000-04:00

Heat waves in New York City actually bring back some fond memories of my childhood. I was born in 1971 in good ol' Brooklyn USA, of which I'm very proud.

Brooklyn has so many faces, so much character, so much history that contributes to the definition of New York, and even this country. Every neighborhood from Brooklyn Heights to Coney Island is rich with diversity, culture and history.

If you ever want to see this town from a true down-home New Yorker's point of view, rent any Spike Lee movie. I particularly have a special place in my heart for Summer of Sam, simply because it took place in 1977. I was 6 and clearly remember The Blackout.

Although after reading that article, I forget how bad New York was back then. Rather, my memories are more about the blistering heat, running through the strong blast of the johnny pump (a.k.a. fire hydrant), and playing on the block. The sprinkler cap on the hydrant in the picture above didn't come until years later; instead, you just turn on the water FULL-FORCE and try to stand in front of it without getting thrown to the ground.

On the day of The Blackout, I have a few memories: my Aunt had broken her ankle and was in a cast. My uncle still lived at home with my grandparents and I, and his girlfriend Tina actually slept over, which I thought was so scandalous. Candles were lit the inside of the house, we walked with flashlights, and the radio was on while we sat outside on the 2nd floor porch waiting for the streetlights go on again.

On the 2nd day of The Blackout, I remember going somewhere by bus with my grandfather to pick up his paycheck. I had never gone with him before, and the air felt like hell but I was thrilled to go on this adventure with him. Funny enough, I don't remember much else of that trip except that a man who didn't speak English well stopped to ask for the time.

I distinctly remember the way Grampa wore his watch. It was a big silver watch, and he always kept the face on the inside of his wrist which made him hold his arm straight-up in front of him to look at the time. "Grampa was so nice to that stranger," I thought, "He's always so polite to everyone." I loved to go anywhere with him... to the ends of the earth by bus or subway if he wanted to.

Afterwards, I went to my cousin's house for a dip in their pool. They were the only ones in the neighborhood that I knew who had one. I was really disappointed when the electricity came back on. It wasn't long enough for me. For a brief time my family wasn't crowded around the TV talking about nothing and going about our usual business. Instead, we hung out under the stars and candlelight, listened to the radio and were just.... together. It was a joyous event.

My Inner Turmoil - Breathe (2am)

2006-07-31T10:54:00.000-04:00

I could change the objective of this blog just about every day. Who do I want to be... The happy SAHM content with having my career consist of managing the house and raising my child? The bitter adult who still longs for the love and selflessness my parents should have given to me? The woman who has it all together and just blogs about the funny things and the days where I see things so clearly and can even smell the roses? I'm all of that. I'm none of that.

I have trouble letting people see the real me. Everyone always thinks I'm so sweet and happy. When the truth is I just don't know who I am, where I want to go or who I want to be. I don't know how to make choices or tell people how I feel. I'm afraid of any confrontation, even if it will end up being for the better of the situation. I don't know how to communicate without constantly thinking, "If I do or say this, they won't like me."

I just had an interesting trigger that has me crying and I can't stop. It's so ridiculous but I think it just was the key to open up the floodgates. I have a new personal trainer at the gym. Mike. He seems nice, I guess. Quiet. No conversation in between sets. A little boring. Today, he thought I dropped a weight on purpose. He gave me this big lecture about how I should never throw a weight because I could hurt someone. Meanwhile, I thought he was holding the weight and that's why I let go. The problem is that after he scolded me, I just said ok. I didn't even defend myself. I didn't even say, "I thought you were holding the weight." What does he think I am, a friggin barbarian? First of all, it was a 10 lb. weight. My arms are so skinny and trembling that I let go because I couldn't even hold it up anymore! And I thought he would be there to take it from me. He gave me the cold shoulder after that, which means not only was there no conversation, he wasn't even counting the reps for me anymore because he was pissed.

Does he know who I am?! I thought to myself as I was pulling out of the parking lot? No, of course not. I am upset for so many reasons right now. But it's not about this situation. It's about my life. Well, I have a little time right now, so let me vent. No one reads this friggin blog anyway:

1. I'm mad at the trainer for not realizing that I am a good person who would never intentionally drop a weight. I try my best at all times, dammit.

2. I'm mad at my grandmother for constantly giving advice that's not needed, for parenting my child even when I'm there, and for so many things on so many levels, I may have to spread out my ranting so people don't think I'm a lunatic.

3. I'm mad at my Best Friend for not wanting to spend more time with me unless it's convenient for her, and she doesn't lose any time with her husband. I want to be like Oprah and Gayle for crying out loud and she doesn't. Now she's moving away, and when I call her to tell her how sad I am, she's so nonchalant about it because she just wants to hang up and take a Sunday afternoon nap.

4. I'm mad at my husband for not being my soft place to fall. I feel he just doesn't want to listen to what I really have to say, and never wants to do something for me, with me, that I want to do (like watch a TV show that I like or give Ladybug a bath for me or take a drills session together). He never makes me feel better about my insecurities, he's never compassionate, and will never tell me it's ok and give me a hug. I'm mad at him for his porno collection and for never telling me about his trips to the video store.

5. I'm mad at my mother for not acting like my mother. Just because she allowed her mother to raise me, doesn't mean she should have just signed me over and given up. She tries to be my friend but she just doesn't know how to act like my mother. I love her deeply, and would never want to hurt her but she doesn't realize how much I need her to open up to me and not just talk about general stuff.

6. I'm mad at myself for not having the ability to take charge of my life. I'm mad at my grandmother for not showing me how to take charge. Rather, I'm just like her and have an excuse and a fear for everything. I don't know how to stand up for myself, defend myself, and meet a personal goal.

Well, thank you, The Black Hole of Blogging. And now here are the lyrics to the song that hits so close to home at the moment, Breathe (2am) by Anna Nalick, which I will go back to singing at the top of my lungs as my Personal Anthem, after I publish this post:

2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,

"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?

I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"

Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes

Like they have any right at all to criticize,

Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable

And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table

No one can find the rewind button, girl.

So cradle your head in your hands

And breathe... just breathe

Oh breathe, just breathe

May he turn 21 on the base at Fort Bliss

"Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,

"Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."

Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while

But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles

Wanna hold him.

Maybe I'll just sing about it.

Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable

And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.

No one can find the rewind button, boys

So cradle your head in your hands

And breathe... just breathe,Oh breathe, just breathe

There's a light at each end of this tunnel

You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out

And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again

If you only try turning around.

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song

If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me

Threatening the life it belongs to

And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd

Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud

And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable

And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table

No one can find the rewind button now

Sing it if you understand.

And breathe, just breathe

woah breathe, just breathe

Oh breathe, just breathe

Oh breathe, just breathe.

My Daughter, Future Entomologist

2006-07-30T21:41:00.000-04:00

My 3 1/2 year-old daughter loves bugs. I say that she's my future entomologist. My husband says bugs are dirty and shouldn't be touched.

When I was a kid I liked ants, ladybugs, rollie-pollies, lightning bugs and the occasional little spider. I was pretty much a tomboy, and when bored, I'd even go on an adventure with my friend Joey and Dig for Worms. I also had a cousin who used to collect bugs constantly, and keep them in a closed coffee can with the plastic lid on top with a few holes so they can breathe. As I got older, bugs and crawly things appealed to me even less. I really don't want to be around any of them, let alone have these creatures crawl on me intentionally.

Now that I have an inquisitive little girl, I don't want her to be fearful of bugs, and she can actually learn a lot from them too. So, I encourage the insanity of watching my uncle pick up this GIANT cicada and bring it over for my little girl to observe. Oh, what we do for our children. eeeeeks.

Recently, my husband and I went to play tennis. Ladybug usually tags along with us and hangs out while we play (we always bring her tennis racquet so she can "play" with us a bit too). I'll also pack some snacks, a couple of toys, markers, and the DVD player to keep her occupied so my dh and I can have about an hour of play. But even with all of that, one day I said, "Why don't you go and look for ladybugs over there in the bushes." Well, she found a few and it kept her busy. A few minutes go by and she asked me to fill her cup with water. I thought she was thirsty, so I filled it. After about the 3rd time, I began to give her more water and my dh comes over frustrated because we have to keep stopping our match. "Are you drinking this water?" I asked. "No," she said, "I'm giving the ladybug a bath." Daddy was annoyed, "Why are you doing that?!" "Daddy, YOU said ladybugs are dirty. So I'm giving her a bath so I can play with her."

Later, she told me she pulled off the ladybug's wings because she didn't want her to fly away. Entomologist? Hmmm... maybe I should imagine another profession for my Little Ladybug.

"... you just need to do it"

2006-07-26T09:41:00.000-04:00

"If you find that thing you love, it doesn't necessarily matter whether you do it well or not -- you just need to do it." - Stanley Tucci

This paper bookmark came in my junk mail one day, requesting me to subscribe to "Positive Thinking" magazine. I didn't subscribe, but I do have this bookmark on my fridge. To me, it is the most profound thing I've ever heard.

Looking back on my childhood, I felt as if I was a bird who was never taught how to fly. There was never that little nudge of encouragement to take a chance and try to fly high. I was told I was an "average" kid who should just be a secretary like my aunt. Doctors, lawyers and successful people existed, but they were practically superheroes who might as well have come from another planet. Not that my family is lazy or trashy, they were just content being blue-collared, low-educated and middle class. I know my family loved me but they were just so afraid to leave their comfort zone.

I wanted to soar. I loved adventure, loved trying new things and loved playing street games with the boys. Growing up in Brooklyn, NY in the 1970's we played punch ball, stoop ball, running bases, touch football from manhole cover to manhole cover, and any other games that involved a Spalding and/or running for our lives.

However, I had this horrible fear of being lost or that someone would just leave me somewhere and forget where I was and never find me. I was considered the "weak" one in the group and was always the one the kids made fun of, until I was about 14 and found some better friends.

So, today, I'm still trying to find middle ground between that scared little girl and the one who wants to just run. My perfect answer:

TENNIS!

What could be better? I'm fast, have great hand-eye coordination, and love a little competition. I just need to practice and learn how to be a winner. As a SAHM (Stay-At-Home-Mom), I've learned that success and happiness comes in many different forms. But I still felt I needed to have that certain something of my own, that I loved. Before I quit my job, it was work. The reward is so much easier to see there, rather than taking care of the house and raising a child. TENNIS has helped me keep my sanity, work towards something, and feel good about myself.

Stanley Tucci may not be a great philosopher or poet, but his words have helped me answer a question I've been asking my entire life.

Dreaming of old and new friends

2006-07-25T10:20:00.000-04:00

I always dream of past friends I've had. Mostly the ones that I've severed ties with unamicably. There was the tie that was broken because of a boy, the tie that was broken because they were upset and never explained why, the ties that were broken because of an argument or hurt feelings, and the many ties that were just severed with time and growth.

For some reason, I have a strong place in my heart and mind for all these past friends. I've been told that it's because of my "abandonment issues" that makes these broken ties so significant to me. After all, everyone has had friends come in and out of their lives and are not haunted by them.

Last night it was a combination of friends. There was Cutie Pie (he's the one I had a make-out fling with during the time my best friend was madly in love with him in my high school years), there was Claire (my 12-year old best friend), Rose and Richie (high school friends), Margaret, Nicky (a HS friend who everyone was sure was gay but not sure if he ever came out of the closet) Diana (my high maintenance friend who still has a special place in my heart), Teresa (really Diana's friend but still today we sort of keep in touch -- she prefers to keep it to email and never calls when she says she's going to), Marilyn (my current friend who I talk to and see on occasion), and others were there, I'm sure.

We were all at a swimming pool. The scene was somehow changing... I had either run into all these people while on an island vacation or we were all in a high school swimming pool. (Really, I was on the swim team for about a minute.) We were racing. There were some professional swimmers there (not former friends of mine) that were really fast and I wanted to be fast like them. Every time I wanted to get into the water, I would get interrupted. Cutie Pie would flirt with me and ask me to have another quick fling for old times sake; Margaret would ask me to take a walk with her to have a cigarette; Marilyn would stop and have a quick sensible conversation. Diana and Teresa were there but not in the pool. Diana and I went to Nicky's house where his Gilbert-Grape-type mother was sleeping in the kitchen behind her clutter of knick-knacks.

Anyway, this dream was just full of all these people and so much going on that it's hard to really describe it. These former friends haunt me constantly, usually in separate dreams. Maybe someday there will be a single event that will happen to where I no longer am haunted by these dreams, and they simply become fond (and not so fond) distant memories. But I always find myself wondering what they're all doing now...

Busted!

2006-07-25T08:12:00.000-04:00

Well, I would never be good at having an affair. I left my Internet Explorer window open to my blog. My dh read my entries. He found me out! I'm busted! Not sure if he was smart enough to write down the website, though, and check it out while he's at the office. But even if he does, I'm not going to care. Maybe he'll learn a thing or two about how my mind works.

I almost scrapped this whole blog idea but I talked myself out of it. He simply said, "If you want to keep a secret, then you should do a better job of it." That was it -- I get discouraged very easily. But I think deep down, I don't want to keep any secrets... that's why I started this blog in the first place. I need an outlet.

A lot of the things I will probably post will be about the thoughts that run around my head and memories from my childhood. Not that my childhood was enormously eventful, tragic or exciting, but there are plenty of events and feelings that are completely imprinted in my brain.

I feel these events are part of my identity. The people that passed through my life are also part of my identity. However, no successful doctors, lawyers, millionaires or entrepreneurs have a chapter here. My influences are strictly others like me, with baggage, just trying to make the best of it. Well, some are just living and not trying so much.

I often have very vivid dreams. I've thought about writing them down but that takes too long. It's funny how a person with ADD who forgets everything where I left my keys or what I had for breakfast, can remember so many extreme details of my dreams. Sometimes I can even smell the air, feel pain, taste, fear and remember how something (or someone) felt on my fingers.

My dh also doesn't want to hear about every one of my dreams. He thinks they're too weird, they don't make sense, and gets bored with the details. Well, unfortunately, I plan to write about them here. So, dh, if you're reading, be forewarned!

Time Management

2006-07-17T08:13:00.000-04:00

I have a confession to make that not everyone knows about me: I have recently been diagnosed with ADD. Not ADHD, that would mean I would have hyperactivity as well. I have ADD: I have trouble managing my time, keeping the clutter away, and paying attention. I have a deficit of attention.

Or maybe I'm just a passive-aggressive New Yorker who doesn't want to listen to authority, likes to keep some momentos tucked in a corner in a shopping bag in the bedroom, and am just bored with the conversation. Hmph.

Well, today is Monday and every Monday I say to myself, "I'm going to wake up at 6:00am, start the laundry, and do 12 things before I bring my daughter to camp." And every Monday, I wake up after 7:00am. Sometimes I even wake up at like 7:40am. I've come to realize that I'm simply saying: "F*ck you, CLOCK! You don't OWN me! I'll get up when I want!!"

And then my whole day is screwed up.

Happy Monday!

Am I being emotionally unfaithful b/c my dh doesn't know about this blog?

2006-07-16T17:26:00.000-04:00

Just curious what you all thought. (ha! as if there's a "you all" at this point.) Hopefully someone out there will read this eventually... and answer my question. But really, am I being emotionally unfaithful because my dh doesn't know about this blog? I simply just need another outlet to complain. So why not cyberspace?

Well, so far, I've said nothing about dh anyway. Not really sure how much complaining I want to do here. Maybe I just want to skip that whole thing and not be identified as a blogger who complains too much about her marriage. Maybe I want to just be known as the sweet mommy with the cute kid. Not sure yet.

We'll see where this all goes, day by day. Just like I move with life... I just go where it takes me.

When I was 4...

2006-07-16T04:22:00.000-04:00

When I was 4...

For some reason, that was my best year. Especially when I was about 6 or 8, I always used to talk about "When I was 4..." I even remember saying it. Funny enough, today, I don't remember what really happened when I was 4. But here's a picture of me from "When I Was 4" anyway...

Oh, what a scary thing!

2006-07-16T03:41:00.000-04:00

I've just been inspired to start a blog by cmhl at this very moment. It's 3:40am and I woke up frantically looking for a remedy for my 3-year old's flaky scalp. It's amazing what will keep us up at night.

I love people who dare to speak their minds about their lives. But a blog has been scary for me because... who is my audience? Do I simply want to try to be clever and amuse strangers with the high hopes of receiving positive feedback? Sounds like the story of my life. Or do I want to keep in touch with people whom I know and love that never really hear the TRUTH about what goes on in my mind. I'm going to gamble and pick the former, hoping that at some point, maybe a few of the aforementioned latter population will stumble across it.

But what if my dh ("darling husband," "dick-head husband," depending on my mood) sees it? Yikes. Divorce may be in order. How does cmhl feel about that? What would SHE do?

There are certain individuals I would love to share this link with: my therapist, my aunt, my bff (best friend forever). Would I want my mother to read it? Ummm, yes, but just don't ask me to elaborate, Mom, ok? Read it but don't tell me you read it. I would like you to get to know me better, but just don't tell me you know, ok?

I have a certain facade to keep up. I'm sweet and kind (not the facade part), rarely get upset (here comes the facade), and have a perfect marriage (whammy!). I have it all together because I would have it no other way (wooo, boy!). I'm organized (ha!) and I always have enough time. (you get the picture, now, right?)

It's funny, because I've always felt, put me on a stage to speak in front of a bunch of strangers, and I'll be fine. Put me on a stage in front of my family, and I will pass out from all the anxiety. So, this is how I feel about this whole blog idea. I like it. Kind of like going on a roller coaster. Hope you can enjoy the ride with me. Hope someone out there can find me.

So, thank you cmhl for your inspiration, and your blog about thing two's flaky scalp. You helped me in more ways than you can ever imagine.