Thanksgiving Update

The essay section (read previous post) went well. I passed and that is what really counts.

Before I go there though, I should start at the beginning. I guess I should start at the part where the un-insured rental car that we were driving got hit on the Verazzano Bridge. After that, I'll tell you about how we missed the turn onto Route 13 after the Delaware Memorial Bridge and wound up driving 3 hours out of our way.

So...yeah...we got hit. Jason was driving the way he usually does, like a bat outta hell and I was trying to find my happy place so I didn't say anything to agitate him. Okay, maybe he's not THAT bad but you don't really want to mess with him when he's driving...he's a man on a mission when he's behind the wheel. A James Bond mission that is.

What had happened was...I'm really not sure actually because I have this bad habit of not paying attention when I'm being chauffered. What I do remember is-us stopping short and feeling the car behind us hit us ever so gently from behind followed immediately with a gentle cracking sound. The next sound that I remember hearing is Jason's voice as his vocabulary exploded into four letter words and him jumping out of the car screaming at the top of his lungs, "But it's a rental, it's a RENTAL MAN". Highway patrol found us and did the necessary paper work and sent us on our way. The fate that would await us upon returning the car loomed in the back of our minds but we journeyed on.

Journey we did do...five hours later on I-95 my mom called to see how things were and how close we were. When we mentioned that we were still on I-95 she informed us that we were indeed headed in the right direction but that we had missed our turn for a more direct trip. Mom informed us that we could continue but that she would consult her map and give us a call back. She also informed us to never take a trip without a map again.

Once we arrived in Virginia things went smoothly. My mom's friend almost didn't come because he knew that my siblings and I would be there. I guess he was afraid we'd burn him at the stake or something. This didn't make me happy though because it made my mom sad so, I did the noble thing. I called him and asked politely (as politely as I could) if he could make sure to arrive in a timely fashion. He missed the day due to transportation gliches with Greyhound but he finally made it. That made my mom happy and so that made me happy.
My brother was really glad to see his friends from New York that came up with us. They were inseparable for the whole time that we were there. Jason never missed a beat, you would have thought that he'd been around for years. The food was delish and everyone was happy. It was a very nice holiday overall.

Epilogue

Jason gave a $200.00 deposit towards damages that are estimated to be between $500.00 and $1000.00. He will be billed for the balance.

My Thanksgiving Promise

I've been penning my thoughts the last few days...like in the old days. I sometimes transfer my thoughts from the notebook to the big screen but today I'm not in the mood for all the work.
Thanksgiving is moments away. The actual day that is, this past Saturday I celebrated thanksgiving with my dad and sisters and their children. It went well, uneventful. Family gatherings rarely go uneventfully but I'm thankful that it did. It almost didn't, it could have gotten ugly-I was a big girl though I didn't take the bait. When my sister's new guy friend got snotty I didn't rip him a new one-like I wanted to, no, I just smiled and pretended he didn't just use a "tone" with me. He truly had nerve but I'm not going to go there. The day overall was good. If this Thanksgiving Holiday is being divided like a Mid-term exam that was the multiple choice. Thursday with my Mom is going to be the essay section. The essay part is always the part of the exam that I paused and took a few minutes to ponder over. I wanted to make sure that every word counted. I wanted to make sure I could say it all in 250 words or more. That is what the next few days will be like. I'll be watching my words making sure I don't say anything to offend my mother and her "friend" who I can't stand. I love my mother and I'll do this for her. I'll pause before I speak, form the words in my head before I let them walk over the bridge of my tongue and through the gate of my teeth. I'll be the good daughter, just like I was the good sister Saturday. I won't be the bi-otch everyone expects me to be. I promise.

music that makes me smile

Just when I thought I couldn't love Mariah's music anymore than I already do she comes out with this.

I haven't lost my mind...

I KNOW it's not nice out but, this is too funny!

April 30, 2006

I am officially signed up for the New Jersey Half Marathon on April 30, 2006!

I can't believe that I'm doing this. I'm going to run 13.1 miles! I am registered as a member of Team in Training with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I am so excited about the shape I will be in come the spring. I am excited about the shape I will be in come May when I go to Cancun for my friends wedding. I am also excited to raise money for a great cause, cancer research.

Leave me alone...

Why does every NYC man (okay, not every but you get me) feel that it is their God given right to speak to me in the morning? They also feel that just because THEY speak I should RESPOND. I don't understand this. I just want to walk in peace.
I mean did you see your girlfriend, boyfriend, wife off with as much gusto as your using to get my attention this morning? I dare say you did not.
When I am walking down the sidewalk and I CLEARLY see you and do NOT make any attempt to acknowledge you, let me be. You invading my personal space to yell Good Morning over what you assume are working headphones does not make me want you. Ps-the headphones aren't even attached to a working device. They are just a deterant for the likes of men like you...obviously you didn't get the memo.
I'm flattered you find me so breathtaking that you must make you rpresence known to me. I would be more flattered if you would just smile and nod. It lets me know you saw me and it lets you know I saw you. Then we move on. You go home to your family or work or wherever you're going and have a nice life.
When you agitate me like this it takes me awhile to calm down and get my attitude back on track. That pisses Momma off.

Suburbia

Before everything happened on Saturday I was headed home to Long Gisland. I use the term home loosely. In this case, home only connotates place of birth and growing up years. I'm not really that fond of the place in all honesty.
So, I was headed to out to celebrate the first birthday of my best gal pal's son. I made the trek because your only one once. The next birthday I'll see him at is his sweet 16.
I tried to be conscience of what I wore to this suburban shin-dig. I didn't want anything to low or tight or high. Anything that might confirm there suspicions that I'm a fornicatin', drinkin', unmarried city girl. I know they don't ALL think like that but, some of 'em do. I was mostly nervous about seeing gal pal's mom. The last time she got me alone she took my hand and with all the love in the world asked me, "Don't you WANT to get married?". "Sure Mom I wanna get hitched some day but uhm, I'm not going to stand on the corner with a sign in my hand. When and if it is supposed to happen it will". She hurt my feelings with that. I mean it was a couple years ago and she's not the only one who's inquired so I should be over it I guess.
I know my family has wondered for years since I've been out of college. I never brought anyone home, I never talked about anyone. My mom asked me on more than one occasion if I was gay, always in a joke. She would always finish up the question with, "Because if you were, I don't have a problem with that. Your my daughter and I love you".It still hurt.
I dated off and on. No one really stuck. I didn't want to just bring ANYONE home to my family. If I'm bringing them to my family-I like them- a lot. I feel about my family the way single parents feel about introducing their child to someone they date. You only do it if it's going somewhere. That is my motto.
So this was my dilemna Saturday. Then I remembered, this is the children's party today. Last night, was the family get together...I wouldn't have to be roasted at the stake after all. Of course at the children's party would be all the late 20-somethings with their 2.5 children and 2 carat diamond engagement rings with matching eternity bands. They never ask me why I'm not married but I see the questions in their eyes. "How are things" they say. Things are always good. Even if things were bad, do they REALLY want to know about how bad they are? I don't think so. I'm not part of their club, this Suburban Wives Club. I'm a part of the NYC Women's Club. I don't want to give us a bad name so, things are always Fab-U-Lous!
Maybe it's not them. Maybe it's me. No, It's them, I have conferred with other NYC Women and married or unmarried (see in the NYC club the married women are a different breed) they know what I'm talking about. It's definetly a suburbia thing. You must be married or engaged by 25 or else. It's not just the Jewish girls either. It's everyone.
I used to feel a lot of pressure. I don't anymore. It's my life. Now that I'm seeing someone I'm sure by next year my mom will want to know when we're getting married. After all I'm pushing 30 and haven't had a kid yet, oh the horror!

I can't make this stuff up...

I have no faith in the criminal justice system. None. I believe that all cops are corrupt and abusive of their power. I hate them all. I'm not looking to be reformed-I'm too far gone.
My 16 yo brother was arrested today. He allegedly robbed a woman at gun point. Anyone who knows my brother knows that this is not possible. I'm not being the naive big sister. I know my brother, he's not "that type". He plays video games and rides bikes, his favorite past time is annoying his sisters. He hasn't even make enough friends in Virginia to have access to a gun (well there is that one cousin...). My brother has be home from school for two days because of testing and holidays, home with my mom. That's why she made him go out this morning. He went to Wendy's to apply for a job.
He left at 10am and called my mom at 10:15am to inform my mom that the cops "had him". My mom ran to the Wendy's - Yes, ran. When she arrived she found five police cars and my 16 yo brother being read his Miranda Rights. He cried as he was handcuffed and placed against a wall. When he was put in the police car my mom asked to sit with him. Her request was denied.
An hour later after interviewing the woman accusing my brother, he was released. They took his picture though. I told my mom to refuse this but trying to be a law abiding citizen she let the pigs win.
He's home now, safe? (well that I don't know) but, he's home. He wants now more than ever to come back to New York and I can't blame him.

...

I remember being three years old and being at my mother's wedding. I had the chicken pox and my face was covered in calamine lotion. At the reception I wasn't feeling well and someone brought me home. My next memory is at five. It was a summer day and I was walking to the store with my mom. We were visiting Nana and Pop that day. My mom shared a story with me that changed my life. I remember feeling the shift, even at five years old. She told me about how the man she married wasn't the man who made me. She explained to me what that meant. I still remember how I felt hearing that in my little girl ears. I felt sad. I felt like I lost something.
I remember being seven. My mom told me that she needed to talk to me about something. She came into my room with a pencil and some sheets of paper. We sat on the bed and she explained what "getting your period" meant. She also explained to me what sex was. My mom drew diagrams of the male and female reproductive system complete with labels. I remember hoping I wouldn't get my period until I was sixteen. To me, sixteen seemed like the perfect age because I would be able to go to Genovese and buy sanitary napkins without feeling embarrassed. I "got my period" at age nine. My mother was working nights at the time and I didn't tell her for two months. I just used toilet paper.
I remember being eight and my father getting really drunk and breaking the glass cover that contained the record player. That was the first time I remember him getting violent.
I remember being nine turning ten. It was the morning of my tenth birthday party and I'd invited friends from school for a birthday party. It was a Saturday morning. We had to set up the screened-in porch for the party because the night before my father punched holes in the walls.
I remember my dad took us all to see the movie "Song of the South". That was a nice day. I remember leaving the movie theatre and the sun being out.
I remember my mom reading us "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" every night at bedtime. I remember her buying us chocolate for the part when they reach the factory.
I remember my grandfather having Thanksgiving dinner with us the year after my grandmother died. He said that he was thankful to be with us that day.
I remember that I never realized we didn't have much money until I was a teenager.
I remember when my parent's separated, I was in ninth grade. We moved into a house that was in really bad shape. I remember we didn't have food. I remember my mom applied for public assistance. I remember thinking I loved my mom so much. I wished there was something I could do. I remember my dad finished rehab and came home. I remember feeling sad.
I remember moving into a nice new house. I remember having the things that we needed. I remember my mom going back to college. I remember her finishing and going to graduate school. I remember feeling proud.
I remember moving away from home and missing my family.
I remember falling in love with "E". I remember being so happy. I remember growing up and knowing it wasn't right. I remember saying goodbye.
I remember when I stopped hating my father. I remember when I started understanding. I remember laying in my sister's room on the first day of school eve. We would peek out of the window and hope the sun would come up so we could wear our new clothes. I remember getting my sisters together upstairs in one of our rooms and praying daddy would stop yelling. Praying that mommy would be able to get some sleep tonight.
I remember my dad bringing home cupcakes for us on Valentines Day.
I remember how I felt last year when my parent's finally separated. I remember the day my nieces were born.I remember the day "E" died. I remember the day I graduated from high school and college. I remember the first time I went out with Jason. I remember how it feels to lie on the beach with no worries. I remember...I remember it all...

The Difference

Alone feels like
Your favorite movie with no interruptions
Waking up without an agenda
Saturday afternoon to do as you please
Peace

Lonely feels like
Your the only one left on the planet
Darkness without light
No one to kiss goodnight
Empty

Things are good

Lately I've been feeling restless. Maybe uneasy is a better word. My personal life is for once, calm. Is this normal? I don't know, I don't do normal so I wouldn't really know what to look for. I just got off the phone with an old friend she asked about the MIML. My only response was, "Things are good". No, "I have stories to tell" no, "Please, I don't even want to think about" no, "Who?". Things are actually undramatic and uncomplicated on the romantic front. This weekend marks 8 months since our first date. Time really flies.
I feel kind of guilty that my personal life is in the state that it's in and the rest of the world (family/friends) seem to be falling into pieces. I mean I've still got plenty of issues but who doesn't?
Last night I had tea and conversation with a couple of friends who allowed me to join their Knitting Circle for an evening. Tonight I'm meeting up with my book club to have dinner and we will update each other on the lastest in our lives. Tomorrow night I'm running, Friday I'll be out with the MIML. My life is really full right now, I'm so happy for that. I remember a time when it wasn't this way. For once I want to put my insecurities aside and just enjoy the moment.

from the mouths of babes

Yesterday after leaving work I walked to the subway station. I ended up walking behind a man with his son and beside a women with a young boy in a stroller. At East 67th and 2nd avenue the little boy holding his fathers hand recognized that he was standing next to his classmate. His eyes lit up when he saw his friend and he smiled and waved and tried to get his father to turn and look and see his friend. Father only turned to tell little boy to, "Come on", because the light had changed. Little boys smile faded as he was pulled across the street. Little boy turned around halfway across the street, his eyes trying to locate his friend. When he made eye contact he held out his one free arm to his friend and started singing what appeared to be a nursery school rhyme. I couldn't help but smile.

Epilogue-If it can happen, It will happen

The money was NOT posted to my account this morning. I had to call the bank, they credited the account with me on the phone.

If it CAN happen, It WILL happen TO ME

The story of my life has been, If it CAN happen, It WILL happen TO ME. I've learned to accept that truth. Accepting is half the battle. This leads to less frustruation on my part when something goes wrong.
Take this Saturday for instance. My best gal pal was in town for some shopping and eating and a day without baby bags. After we warmed up our shopping skills in Daffy's and DSW I hit the ATM. I wanted to have cash on hand because when shopping by plastic I often forget that everytime I swipe the card, my hard earned money (okay, well you know what I mean) is snatched from my account faster than I can make it back.
I approached the Bank of America ATM giving it the once over. I mean I'm a hip NYC girl, I know you have to be warying of ATM's that have devices on them that steal your identity. Although if anyone ever attempted to steal my identity-they'd probably want to give it right back with an apology, "Sorry, I had NO idea". So after my thorough evaluation, I dipped my card in the ATM. This was one of the ATM's where you just dip your card in and take it right back out. I added my PIN number pressed enter, requested $100.00, was then informed I'd be charged $2.00. I accepted this punishment for using a foreign ATM then waited as "transaction proccessing" flashed. I waited for the whur of the bills being dropped down into the dispenser, nothing. I shifted nervously on my feet, "What is taking so long?". I turned to my gal pal who was finished getting her fun pass at this point, "Nothing's happening, It won't give me my money"
"Is there money to be got?"
"For once, yeah"
I pressed CANCEL, nothing. I pressed every key on the machine. The machine went black and started to reboot itself. Never stopping to dispense my $100.00. My eyes searched frantically for a telephone number to call. I wanted to dial 9-1-1 but my eyes found a number. I dialed the toll free number was informed that this number had been changed, I dialed the new number and was informed that, "This number has been disconnected message 5428".
This seemed so fitting for my life, I barely batted an eye as I called Citibank. After hitting random numbers trying to talk to a person, I finally spoke to Louisa. Louisa informed me that yes, it did look as if I had taken out $102.00 dollars but Citibank would be able to tell on an electronic level that I had not. She assured me that Tuesday morning I would be credited for $102. 00. I want to believe her, I don't.

a birthday memory

This picture was taken on my 26th or 27th birthday. I can never remember. We're at Cabana at the south street seaport. All I can remember is that I didn't really want to celebrate my birthday that year. It was a first. I was going to let the day pass quietly by and throw a pity party for one. Funny how now I can't even really remember what had me so down. Life is strange that way.
A few friends decided if it was going to be a pity party, I'd have to open up the guestlist. It felt so nice to be surrounded by people who cared about me. I always look at myself as someone in the care giver role and it's hard for me to be on the receiving end. I sometimes feel as if I don't deserve kindness. That sounds sick. I can't even believe that I just said that, it's the God's honest truth but, sick nonetheless.

time for baking...

In a couple of weeks I'm going to dust off my stove and get down and dirty. I do it about twice a year, turn on my stove that is. I've placed my Fresh Direct order today, it's scheduled to arrive Sunday night. This order contains butter, cream, sugar (dark brown, light brown and white), flour, chocolate and all sorts of lovelies.




I'm going to make brownies, chocolate chip cookies and sweet potatoe pies this month. I make all of these items well, if I may say so myself. I don't make these delicious treats for myself though. I'd eat whole trays of brownies and entire pies and batches of batter if I did. I make these treats with love, for others. I myself have always loved receiving baked goods from people. Baking takes time and forethought and it makes you feel special if someone bakes a goodie just for you.

The First Time

I was inspired to write about my first experience in South Beach, Miami with my dear friend Irene. It was the first spring after I graduated from college so I must have been about 22. I can't really remember how it all went down, I think she might have been sharing stories and some how I wound up invited or inviting myself. Irene did all of the booking, I handed over my hard earned money and high expectations. We were booked on a Spring Break package even though we were a tad past our prime. By the time that we booked all of the flight packages were taken and so we were scheduled to leave by chartered bus. The details of the 26 hour bus ride were not exactly music to my ears but I was just glad to be nominated!
I was so excited! I shopped for days for this trip. I packed, unpacked and repacked. I'd been to florida once before this trip but Sarasota doesn't really count does it?
The trip was a total of eight days including the two it would take to come and go. The ride down was actually kind of fun, it gave everyone time to bond. When we got to South Beach we'd already made friends.
That year Irene and I stayed at the Rose Hotel which is now called the Ocean Five Hotel. I was old in the way that most Art Deco hotels in that area that aren't luxury are. The water pressure was bad, it smelled sort of wet because of the ocean air but to me it was the best thing ever. I loved it from the top of it's non elevatored floor to the bottom of it's badly needing to be changed hallway rug. I was on VACATION! The hotel was on Ocean Drive across the street from the beach, it really doesn't get better than that.
For a whole week my life was beach, relaxing and going out. We made friends with a guy group on the bus who were from the Bronx. We actually used their shower a couple of times due to our lack of water pressure. They were cool guys, Danny was my favorite. We nicknamed him Drama King because he was always making things bigger than they really were.
One night we went for pre-going out drinks at The Chesterfield Hotel then wound up making a night of it on the hotel porch. At some point one of the guys decided that we were spending to much on happy hour and miraculously a bottle of Hennessy, Pepsi ® and ice appeared. Hours later all bottles and cups were empty and we were looking for the next adventure. I think we all went dancing for a bit that night...yes, it's all coming back to me know. Oh, yeah (a-hem) it's ALL coming back to me now...
Fast forward.
Over all the week was filled with laughing, eating, drinking, sun worship all the things that any good vacation are made of. I think that is even the year I had a celebrity spotting. I also randomly ran into two guys from High School-it's a small, small world.
Since that trip I've been back to South Beach just about every year, sometimes twice! It's always a good time. I've stayed at lots of hotels and travelled with different people down there and always had a good time but some how you never for get the first time.