Who, me?

Apparently I snore~
I vehemently deny the accusation but I am out numbered by my many accusers.  Well, perhaps I do... a little, due to my seasonal allergies which have my sinuses so congested that my eyes bulge like a fat Chihuahua.  It's not a pretty sight, believe me, but I don't care.  I don't have to look at me.
Anyhow, I did a little research and it is recommended that I sleep on my side (I'm a tummy and back sleeper), don't take sleep aids (no melatonin?) and no alcohol.
Great, in order for me to stop snoring so everyone else can sleep, I must refrain from the very things that help me sleep?
Awwww, what the heck, sleep is over rated!
I still don't believe them cos I've never actually heard myself snore! I think they're just jealous of how fast I can achieve R.E.M.

Bleh~

I took supper to Dickidoo this afternoon.  Rocky asked me why.  I had no good reason.
"You're such a wife," my youngest daughter accused.  It's weird that I felt I had to defend myself and yet there was no defense.  I am such a fricken wife!
So I decided that I should be a disgruntled fricken wife.  I walked into his bedroom, which until 2 years ago used to be our bedroom~ and I left a calling card.  A pinto bean and 3 chili salsa calling card.  I only hope he gets home before the potency drifts away through the ventilation system.  I have no real confidence in it though.  I have always been a potent but sissy farter.
Seriously though I have had to make an extra effort to wean myself from my future-ex-husband.  I miss talking to him.  I miss joking with him. I miss sitting in silence beside him. I find myself talking myself out of impulses.  I applaud those I deny.  I mourn the ones I succumb to.  Baby steps I tell myself, my nice self.
Is it wrong to want to baby step up his butt?  My not so nice self thinks not.
Just a thought~

HOMESICK?

With all that is going on in the world now days, and all that is happening in my own life, in a moment of quiet today I began to feel a little homesick.
Then I realized that I don't really know where my home is any more.
On the bright side of things, because there is always a bright side (if I keep saying this I will eventually start believing it), tomorrow is daylight savings and I get to wake up an hour earlier than usual so that I can go to work an hour earlier.  Yep, it doesn't get much brighter than that!
What, who, me, facetious?  Never!

The New "Middle Age"

The older I get, the older 'middle aged' gets.  Once upon a time, in my earlier prime, I considered 50 to be middle aged.  Now that I am 50 I have decided, at least for the time being, that middle aged shall be 60ish for I fully intend on sticking around for at least another 60 years or so~
So here's to the ever elusive 'middle age'.  May we never catch up to it in our life time.

The Last Anniversary~

On February 4, 1984 we said "We do." From that moment on "We did." 27 years later we look back and say "We tried", but it wasn't enough. Letting go is harder for some than others, but in the end it is the only way to go forward. This I understand now, "I do." So when it was all that was left to do, "I did." Looking back I know that above all else, "I tried" even though it wasn't enough.
On my own now I look to the future with eager eyes and think "I can!" I wake each morning with a new goal and say "I will!" Each night as I fall into bed, it is with the satisfaction of knowing that "I did".
And I am happy again with who "I am".

This video was originally posted on February 4, 2006 in celebration of my 22nd Anniversary.

GROUNDHOG DAY 2011

I don't need some big rodent who was rudely awaken from hibernation to look for his shadow to tell me whether or not spring is going to be early. One step out of the apartment this morning into the snot-freezing -12 degree air and I had my answer~ spring is no where near. It's not that hard folk. Half the Groundhog Day celebrations were cancelled due to blizzards. Spring ain't coming yet! Let poor little Puxatony Phil go back to hibernation. I'll see you all when global warming heats up this hemisphere and thaws the glaciers in my nostrils.

I'm outta there!

I have finally made the first giant step towards independence by moving out of the house, The House of Loompa.  So many memories were made there and I won't lie, most of them were good.  Even the bad memories weren't that bad.  But it was time to move on and I have.

It's getting easier to point the car in the direction of the apartment now, and all references to 'home' are about the little 900 sq. ft. 2nd floor apartment that I share with a son and daughter... and parrot.

The hardest part right now is cooking for 3.  After cooking for 7 for so long it's hard to make the adjustment.  Occasionally I'll catch myself before I start throwing things together but most times I'll find myself staring at dishes of food that will feed us for a month.  Today is day 2 of teriyaki chicken.  A bowl of tacoroni and cheese sits ignored in the refrigerator next to a zippy bag of Cajun chicken.  That never happened at The House of Loompa.  Guess it's time for a Left-over left-overs buffet.

And yes, I miss my best friend.  I miss talking to him and sharing my day with him.  I know what I have to do, but how do you let go of someone when you never really had a hold of them to begin with?  You'd think that would make it easier but for some reason it does not.

So what do I do with this hole in my life?  What do I fill it with?  A new vice?  A new hobby?

Baby steps.  Let's just start with A New Me~

HAPPY NEW ME! (One step at a time~)

2011 started with a resounding 'bang' that just keeps building.  Last year is hardly what I would describe as a bad year although it did have it's challenges.  I just felt like I was dangling in limbo, with no course, no destination and no means to get elsewhere.  Today, on just the 5th day of the new year I am caught up in the ever growing momentum of life that has me breathless with anticipation.

One step out the door.  One step away from Mrs. One step closer to Me.

Tomorrow my new home will be a tiny apartment on the south end of town, shared with a son, a daughter, a parrot, the shithound and 3 goldfish.  It is only temporary until Art can find a permanent roommate.  After that, for Me, who knows?  But I can't wait to find out!

Some Of My Most Important Lessons Were Learned When I Was A Baby~

They say that you are never too old to learn and at 50 years of age I believe that.  I still maintain to this day though that some of the most important lessons in life were learned while I was still in diapers.

• A nap is the best way to start the day.
• If you're hungry, fuss until someone feeds you.
• A nap is the best way to cure a full stomach.
• If you make a mess, fuss until someone else cleans it up.
• A bath followed by a nice long nap is a great way to refresh after a busy day.
• A smile will get you EVERYTHING.
• You don't need a reason to smile.
• You don't need a reason to nap.
• Smiles and laughter are contagious.  So are frowns and cries.
• Everything tastes better when you eat it with your fingers.
• It is never too early, or too late, for a nap.
• Just because something smells good it is not a guarantee that it will taste good.
• You can never be too young or too old for a nap.
• Hugs can be substituted for naps when naps are not possible at the time.
• A nap is the best way to end the day.
• When all else fails, take a nap, regroup and start again refreshed.
• Everything is better after a nap.

These are some of life's earliest and most valuable lessons.  And on that note, I think it's time for a nap~

BABIES COME FROM KISSING~

It is inevitable that children are going to be curious about where babies come from. I have never filled my childrens' heads with fairy tales of birds and bees or the stork. I delivered 5 children so I think I am more than qualified to define where babies came from and let me tell you, there were no buzzing bees happily pollinating flowers with their little pollen sacks or a long necked stork with a train conductor's hat flapping around. 

Nor did I feel the need to complicate things with the actual physical recipe. I kept it simple.

Babies come from kissing.

There may be different circumstances each time, but it all starts with a kiss, every single time.  Then nine weight laden, increasingly uncomfortable months later, after pushing and panting for ions, the mother, not some stupid long necked, long legged bird, delivers a splotchy, slimy, purple skinned, screaming baby, leaving to wonder how it was possible that she had just squeezed something that ginormous out from an orifice in her body.

And if anyone is wondering, God is a male, because a female would never have blessed female kind with a menstrual cycle or the business end of conception.

The Taste of Autumn~

I'm not a big breakfast eater.  Yes, I know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, blah, blah, blah.  I actually buy into that propaganda about twice a week.  This morning was one of the twice.  This morning I made an apple butter sandwich to go with my coffee.

Apple butter is a simple indulgence, a smooth, deep brown spread made from stewed apples and seasoned with cinnamon.  Slathered between two slices of bread, with a swipe of butter and it is a meal fit for a king. I held the sandwich in front of my face and closed my eyes, breathing in the fragrant aroma. I was instantly transported to a time long ago.

Groton, Connecticut, 1968ish.  It was autumn, the days were long and warm.  The air smelled of freshly mowed grass and bayberries.   In the distance the repetitive crackle of an ice cream truck lured children from all directions, but not me.  I had an apple-butter sandwich clutched in my hands, the only clean surface on my almost 8 year old body following the required hand washing before acquisition of food.  I held the sandwich in front of my face and closed my eyes, breathing in the fragrant aroma and I was instantly transported to a time not so long ago.

Scotland, 1964ish.  It was a cool, crisp autumn day.  The smell of smoke from every chimney in the neighborhood mingled with a faint hint of salt drifting up from the river hung in the air.  The monotonous cawing of hundreds of sea gulls filled the atmosphere with almost a festive mood, but I was oblivious to anything but the two slices of thick bread separated only by a generous slathering of smooth, dark, spicy apple butter and creamy, home churned butter.

And I was instantly transported to another time, another place.  It was autumn~

MY 'YESTER-ME'

I was looking for a specific blog entry in my badly neglected Dust Bunny blog when I got caught up in reading some of my past entries. I hardly even recognized myself as the author. The woman-child words and descriptions of daily life filled the web pages with lighthearted humor. It was obvious that she was devoted to her children and even her husband whom she affectionately and sometimes exasperatedly referred to as Dickidoo. She seemed to find humor in almost anything, and when she chose to be serious, it was a deep, emotional side that came through. She was a simple person with a big heart and a bigger laugh.



I miss her.

I've tried to lure her out but she has retreated so far into the shadows of my mind that I fear I have lost touch with her completely. Her spontaneity has been replaced by cold calculation. Her laughter is now bitter and sarcastic. She doesn't sing, not even in the shower. Doodles no longer take over bill statements. She says she loves to cook but if you ask she probably couldn't tell you when she last prepared a nice sit down dinner for the family. She scoffs at the words 'love', 'forever' and 'trust'. She has accepted that she has become an American statistic.

So this is what 'growing up' feels like. Not sure I like the person staring back at me from the mirror in my mind. I'm certainly not liking what I am growing in to but I can't blame the metamorphosis on anyone but myself. I have allowed myself to become this.

Well, if she won't come to me then maybe I'll go back for her. I can never really go back entirely for obvious reasons, but I can certainly go back to being who and what I knew and loved. If you can't love yourself then who can you love? That may sound vain, but really, if you are not happy with yourself, who you are and what you are, then you can never truly be happy in any other aspect of your life. I miss being happy, truly happy.

I miss being me.

So be warned folks, here I come... again!

Happy "BLAH DE BLAH" Day to you~

I woke up this morning and thought "Blah de blah!".  No, really, I did.  In my mind I clearly heard "Blah de blah!", and I thought "Wow, that's a nice change from the self deflating thoughts I usually harbor first thing in the morning." (yes, I really thought that too, in my internal tone of voice).

So what does one do on a 'blah de blah' kind of morning?  I don't know about anyone else but I celebrated with red velvet cake, vanilla ice cream and 2 hour old coffee, barely lighted by an unhealthy splash of hazelnut creamer.  Wondering how so many calories could weigh so little on my plate and yet multiply so greatly on my body, I picked the icing off of the cake and pushed it to the side of the plate, immediately alleviating all guilt.

Cake, ice cream, a mug of coffee and no guilt.  What better way to start the day!

What I want~

I've been flip-flopping worse than a Democratic senator on the hot seat but I think I've finally made up my mind, at least for today~

I don't want him to regret this any more than I can regret what led up to this end.  I don't need the satisfaction of saying "I told you so," since I never had the satisfaction of warning him in the first place.  I don't need to say "I was right and you were wrong." because I was never part of the discussion.  The decision was made for me and I was handed the results without choice.

All that I want is to know that every once in a while, whether he wants to admit it or not, he misses me.

If I can't have that then I'd at least like to stop missing him and what we once were~

In the mean time I'll just pull up a seat and make myself comfortable while waiting for the temperature in hell to drop....  Hey, a girl can dream can't she?

Hi, I'm 50, how are you?

Somehow, between accepting the inevitable and convincing family and friends that I was alright, I actually became a believer myself.  Somewhere along the way 50 ceased being a number and became a state of mind.  I have reached the top of the hill only to discover a mountain in the distance.  Life is full of wonderful surprises.  I intend on enjoying as many as I can while I can.

Next?!

IN PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS~

How sad is the person whose hunger is never sated, whose thirst cannot be quenched and whose longing is eternal. To be able to move forward without tainting your memories with regret is a blessing. To be happy, to be satisfied and content with what you have is a gift far greater than the temptation of ambition. A simple life is all I ever wanted and it was what I have achieved. 

I am happy. Are you?

If in doubt, it's mine!

I am finally getting around to clearing out the closet from my old room.  I dove in with great expectations of discovering long lost coinage and $'s.  As of yet I have only recovered 13¢.  I am not impressed.  I did, however, find a treasure of another kind, an old wooden Roller Derby #10 skateboard. 

Someone dug it out of the attic from a previous residence and I have been safe keeping it ever since.  Dickidoo swears it was him.  I know for a fact it wasn't me because I have claustrophobia and I will never enter a small enclosed area if I can find someone else to do it instead. 

At any rate, we both want the skateboard.  It's been in my possession all this time.  I say it's mine.  Dickidoo had a solution.  He held up a fist. 

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

You have got to be kidding!  How old is this guy again?  I mean seriously, how fricken immature! I held the skateboard behind my back possessively. 

"Huh uh, it's mine, so there!" 

End of story.  We don't need a lawyer for this.

I heard it on House so it must be true~

"As long as you're here, it's just a fight. As soon as you get a place, then it's a divorce."
(House to Wilson on why he might be dragging his feet in moving out and getting a divorce lawyer.)

I suppose I'm dragging my feet.  I suppose I should stop talking and start walking. I suppose~

I suppose that while it's true that I'm excited about my pending independence I'm actually terrified that I might not be able to make it on my own financially.  From a distance I can convince myself that I can do it and I can do without, but when the time comes I back off because it's just not feasible. 

Of course it's feasible.  And yes, it will be financially difficult but here and now, looking into the future I know it will be worth it.  If only I can convince my present self that there is no convenient, good time so it may as well be now.

I suppose~

ANTIBACTERIAL COFFEE~

I found my cup of coffee right where I left it as I rushed off to be late for work this morning.  A quick survey of the half empty, half full cup resulted in a green light and I downed the now room temperature hazelnut tainted beverage with almost, but not quite, the same enthusiasm I did this morning when it was still piping hot. Possible bacterial contamination never even crossed my mind. In two swallows it was gone, leaving just a slick mocha colored residue on the inside of my coffee mug.. and an ant carcass.

Ant carcass? 

Well, there, see... just as I suspected.  Day old coffee that's been sitting out in the elements is safe to drink because it will kill anything that tries to settle in it, including bacteria and ants!

To Observe or To Not To.

Seems like now days every day is a holiday.  Every occasion warrants a gift.  I understand Valentines but Saint Patrick's Day?  Cards and gift bags are available at all fine retailers and discount $ Stores for all your gift giving convenience. 

Anniversaries for every occasion imaginable...

What about the anniversary of the decision to divorce?  And while we're on the subject, is there a shorter term for the event because having to say 'the decision to divorce' is quite a mouthful that can surely be shortened to some idiotic, insensitive acronym of some sort.

This time last year Dickidoo was probably squirming and losing sleep over how to break the news of his life changing decision.  This time last year I was ignorantly happy in my 'good-enough' rut of a life.  It wasn't my idea of  'Happily Ever After' but it would do, or so I thought.  He thought differently.

This time this year, which is right now, Dickidoo and I remain polite friends, no benefits, no illusions and no real direction.  We're just floating with the tide, in a slow back and forth motion that gets us nowhere.  There is no fighting, no bickering, no need for secrets.  I have my dignity which is all I thought I wanted, but this is barely an existence.  I wonder if maybe we have taken two steps back.

In an effort to keep it real and focused I feel the need to mark our morbid little anniversary.  July 8th, the day my heart truly broke in half.  I wonder if he remembers the date?  Probably not.  It was probably just a blur to him.  But to me it was, for a moment in time, the moment that redefined my life.

I'm not sure if this calls for a celebratory card or a sympathetic one.  Only time will tell.  But I think there will be chocolate and alcohol involved.