Live to Tell

It started off innocent enough. Scratch that, I'm lying. This is my family, nothing is ever innocent or easy.

• Sister runs off from VA with derelict 'boyfriend' and my five month old niece to live in NY again (and I use the term 'boyfriend' very very loosely). This is done in secret 2 days before Thanksgiving.
• Mother calls hysterical when she arrives home to find the house empty.
• Discover that Mother is using cigarettes to sedate herself.
• Meet my brand new nephew Justice who is beautiful.
• Get hugs from my niece Leah.
• Have fight with boyfriend.
• Drop cellphone in public toilet at mall with NO money to purchase another one if phone decides it will not come back to life.
• Make up with boyfriend.
• Decide to stay one extra day because I worry about leaving my mother alone after she's had a house full for 4 days.
• Cellphone comes back to life.
• Arrive at bus depot only to be informed that the bus is full and oversold and that I will have to leave Sunday night at midnight.
• Arrive in NYC Monday morning at 6:30am and go straight to work sans shower or sleep.

Thanksgiving holiday over: PRICELESS

an you thought that YOU had it hard...

"Yeah, it's not that bad though, even though I have to take the "L" train n' all. I mean, it's not like it's HARLEM where you need a gun just to go to the grocery store".

(overheard 11.13.06 in Union Square NYC)

with this ring I me wed...

Growing up I always imagined that I'd "have it all". Sometimes I saw myself going out there and getting it and sometimes I saw myself getting a few things and then having the rest handed to me by the elusive "him".

As I am swiftly becoming, "a woman of a certain age" I find myself more than ever attempting to get my affairs in order. It's no longer okay to rent where I live, I want roots. I want to be able to hang pictures without worrying about how I'll cover the holes when I move. I want to purchase furniture. For the first time. Everything I possess is hand-me downs, articles that been eaten off of, sat on and slept in before they belonged to me.

It's not okay to stay with the same company just because I've been here for seven years already. I want to move on-explore my options. Maybe I'll fall on my face and prove everyone right but I want to at least be able to say that, "I did it, when I wanted to do it". I can't follow behind people who have lives that are half lived.

This past year I've had a growing affinity for diamonds so, I bought myself some. I bought a pair of diamond studs and most recently a diamond band for my right hand. They are truly a girls best friend! I'm all about this new diamonds on your right hand movement that is going on. In this life, I believe you have to decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for other people to do it for you.

Whenever I get complimented on my earrings or ring I just smile and say thanks, "I bought them for me".

-pic coming soon

Books

1. One book that’s changed your life.
Small Town Girls. It touched me on so many different levels.

2. One book that you have read more than once.
A tree grows in Brooklyn-I love it more each time.

3. One book that you would want on a deserted island
Sister of my heart by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

4. One book that made you cry
I'm pretty mushy so there has been more than one. The most recent was, "My sisters keeper by Jodi Picoult, I bawled.

5. One book that made you laugh.
If they can make you cry they can generally make you laugh. I stick to those listed above.

6. One book you wish had been written.
Small Town Girls.

7. One book you wish had never been written.
There is something for everyone. There is a book I can't get into and I've TRIED like 3 times it's, "A prayer for Owen Meany". I see people reading it and I'm like, "HOW??".

8. One book you are currently reading.
Mercy by Jodi Picoult.

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read.
Straight up and Dirty by Stephanie Klein.

10. One book you're glad to own.
I love all my books.

11. One book from which you must read aloud.
The Hundred Penny Box.

"You have NO new messages"

I'm waiting for a call. Waiting for a call is the worst feeling ever. All I can think about is what the caller must be doing. Are they having a busy day or is it just bad news? As long as you don't hear anything bad news is still good news right? No news is good news they say. I can't wholly agree.

I'm waiting for the recruiter to call me and tell me if I "got the job". At which point I fane disbelief, "Are you serious? Of course I accept." It is by no means my dream job but I've been dreaming about the paycheck it will give me since I learned of it.

If I checked my voicemail 50 times since 9:30 am I'm really low balling. I really just want to hear the good, bad or ugly before this evening. This way I can start Monday on a clean slate. I can get back in the trenches and once again survey the scene. It's pretty tough out there...I hope I get called in from the war.

Here comes the bride.

Saturday morning I was recruited to go wedding dress shopping. It was a most unexpected invitation and I had a ball! Once the bride and I hooked up she informed me that she didn't actually have appointments at her shops of choice, she was crashing, and hoped they'd take us. We didn't actually have to worry about arriving san appointment because both bridal shops in her top 3 choices didn't open until 12 noon and it was only 11am.
Bright eyed and bushy tailed we hailed a cab and headed to shop number three, Myr Jan. It should have been our first stop. This place is one stop shopping. They carry everything you could possibly need. If they don't have it they have a relationship with someone who does. The service was superb also. We arrived without an appointment and were treated with one on one personal service by the owner herself.
I modeled dresses for the bride as she is not yet at goal weight and the samples actually FIT ME!! Now that's saying something. I have to admit, I was quite the vision. In one gown that I tried on I almost took my own breathe away. It was a really nice finish to a long long work week.
Right now only she and I know the details of the dress. I can't wait until June when I see her walk down the aisle on The Hotel rooftop with the Miami skyline as her wedding backdrop in the dress that we picked out together. She's going to be a breathtaking bride.

I'm crying everyones tears

I've been faithfully taking my blue and white happy pill every day to keep the crazies at bay. The pill is only strong enough to deal with my rollercoaster life though. Today my heart has had to deal with too much sorrow. It was a long long weekend.

When it rains it pours

I'm shaking. I'm physically shaking. Why is my life so dramatic? I have received three telephone calls within 48 hours for job interviews. Nothing for two months and all of a sudden the gates of heaven have just opened up. I'm so excited and scared. I have two really interesting possible opportunities on the table. I'll hear back about one Tuesday and other tonight. I'm going to really stepping out and taking a risk with both.
It's so wonderful that things are really looking up. It seems as if the people in my life are finding their purpose. They are fulfilling their hopes and dreams not only in career but also in their family life. 2006 overall has been a really good year.

Lovin' me ain't nothing healthy

The past couple of weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster. I have had such emotion highs and lows that I've scared even myself. I pity those that love me and have to deal with this. Friday I think I must have called the same friends in tears after work only to call back late Friday night on a complete high after my telephone job interview with Zariya-the matchmaker. I haven't been taking my happy pills and it's taking its effect. I am back on schedule now, hopefully I'll be normal soon.

For months I have been searching for gainful employment only to come up empty handed. This has really taken a toll on me. Slowly but surely the calls are now begining to come in and some of the pressure is lifting. I would really like to being this new adventure as early as October. I can't wait to have a fresh start. I am taking this service slow because I really want to find something that I enjoy. I don't want to just jump because I'm tired and bored. Is with most things in life, it's hard to take it slow.

The strain of saving money and thinking about looking for the house(condo,townhouse,whatever) is giving me heart palpatations too. I know that I am doing that right thing and that I can handle it but, it's such a grown up move and that scares me a bit.

Dear Man on the subway,

I was really feeling pretty sluggish this morning as I entered the A train. All I really wanted to do was turn around and go home and get under my covers and snuggle up and go to sleep or watch cartoons and fade away into sleep but, I digress. When I stepped onto the train your body odor nearly sent last nights dinner back into the known universe. Dear Sir it's summer, not only that but, it's summer in New York City. Heat magnifies odor. You had odor. You were very magnified today as you stood on the train with your hands on your hips as if WE were the ones with the problem. We were only trying to breathe, and it was very difficult. Very difficult indeed.

Here's to never seeing you again,

The girl had to stand next to you on the crowded train.

Home Sweet Home

I'm so excited! I'm officially in the market. For a house that is. "We" are officially in the market. Maybe I'm putting the cart before the horse a bit seeing as we don't meet with the mortage banker until tomorrow evening. It is then that we will officially know how much (little) we can afford. It will be such a wonderful feeling to own the place that I live in and I'm just through the roof! It's even more scary that we're doing it together.

I've already started looking a bit and running my findings past the Man and it's so interesting to hear his input, to see what he's looking for in a place. Today he asked me if the townhouse that I was looking at had a garage...it's not something that I would have ever thought of-as I am sans license (but in hot pursuit). He examines the floor plans looking for the perfect layout explaining how he doesn't like kitchens that open into living rooms.

My main concern is a closet space, I've been living in a studio with one closet for six years. I'm tired of looking for creative ways to store my belongings. I'm tired of under bed storage and plastic containers holding last seasons pieces. I'm no Rachel Ray but I can't wait to have a KITCHEN with CABINETS that are big enough to hold more than condiments. I can't wait to use my refrigerator to store actual food inside of tupperware and pots and pans and any other odd kitchen item that I can no longer stand to see out in the open.

I know that there is such a long road to hoe yet but I'm still so EXCITED!!

Senior Year

Fill this out about your SENIOR year of high school! The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be.



1. Who was your best friend?
Best Gal Pal

2.What sports did you play?
Soccer and Cheerleading. Yes, Cheerleading is a sport, I had the bruises to show it.

3. What kind of car did you drive?
I bummed rides, some things never change.

4. Friday night where were you at?
Best Gal Pals house watching the Knicks and eating whatever wasn't tied down.

5. Were you a party animal?
Not exactly.

6. Were you considered a flirt?
I doubt it.

7. Ever skip school?
Yes, Best Gal Pal introduced me to the Art of Skipping.


8. Were you a nerd?
Not exactly.


10. Did you get suspended/expelled?
Heavens no.


11. Can you sing the fight song?
No.


12. Who was your favorite teacher?
Senior year I don't know if I had a favorite. The most RETARDED teacher was Mr. Scott. If I had to pick maybe Mrs. Schlessinger? she was pretty cool.

13. Favorite class?
English


14. What was your school's full name?
Bellport Senior High School

15. School mascot?
A bulldog and a Clipper ship.


16. Did you go to Prom?
Of course! Looking fabulous as ever with Best Gal Pal on my arm.


17. If you could go back and do it over, would you?
Of course, I wish I could see those crazy kids again for one more go round.


18. What do you remember most about graduation?
Being with the two people I loved most in the world and just having my family around me and Happy.

19. Favorite memory of your Senior Year?
It's all a blur of Good Times...


20. Were you ever posted up on the senior wall?
I signed the senior wall if that counts.

21. Did you have a job your senior year?
The summer before, yes.


22. Where did you go most often for lunch?
Senior cafeteria.


23. Have you gained weight since then?
Please don't make me cry.

24. What did you do after graduation?
Went to college two weeks later (I started early).


25. When did you graduate?
1995


26. Where are most of your classmates?
Pretty scattered actually.


27. Are you going to your ten year reunion?
Been there done that-so glad I did though.


28. Who was your home room teacher?
I'm blanking.


29. Who will repost this after you?
Someone I hope, it would be fun to see the answers.

Friends Forever

On the phone:

Best Gal Pal: "I was thinking, I'd like to have you in the room with me when I have the baby"

Me: (eyes wide looking over my shoulder)"Who are you talking to???"

BGP: "You. I'm serious, I think it would be fun"

Me: (silence)

BGP: "You know, 'Good times' and all that"

Me: (shaking my head) "I'm sorry, I can't do that, don't you want me to EVER have children? I just can't, I can't.

My experience on the Couch

"You have issues with men", my therapist announced one evening.
He said it matter of fact. The way you'd state the condition of the weather outside your window. The funny thing is, it was as obvious as ill-fitting panties underneath too tight pants. It's painfully obvious and yet no one really gets called out on it.
I had issues with men.
In alot of way that night was the beginning to my "ah-ha" moment. You know, the moment when you "get it", finally. It's one thing to feel out of wack. It's another to be able to identify the issue and work at moving on. I truly wanted to move on. I was 22 years old, fresh out of college and a long term relationship and trying to be a grown up. Whatever that meant. I knew it meant mentally healthy and I knew I wasn't that. I turned to therapy as a way to figure it all out. I had begun to feel so sad that I was afraid to cry. I had the feeling that if I started to cry I wouldn't be able to stop. I was really hurting.
It was so liberating to lose myself in tears. Even with a stranger. That whole session I cried.
I cried for the little girl in me who watched her father fall down the rabbit hole of alcoholism. For a mother who struggled to pick up the pieces and create a life for her children.
I had been carrying a burden of responsibility around for a long long time and it was really weighing me down. I LOOKED depressed. I felt guilty that I didn't have to live with alcoholism anymore and yet my family wasn't free. Going to sleep without the fear of waking up to breaking dishes or a pot left on the stove was no longer a part of my life. I couldn't enjoy it though. I wanted someone to tell me it was okay. It was okay to have my own life.
I'd never really relaxed my whole life. It's hard to relax when you live with alcoholism. You have to always be alert and on guard because days and nights can change with a moments notice.
I cried because I didn't have one male in my life that I could depend on. Not one. If you don't count my grandfather who I lost at 12 years old. I never really had. I wondered what having a relationship with your father would be like? To be able to just sit and chat. I never wanted to be in the same room with mine, let alone have to exchange words with him.
I cried because the one man in the world that I thought I could trust had betrayed me. His betrayal was far greater than anything I could ever imagine him doing and I was devastated. Somehow his disloyalty caused me to feel like trash and hurled me into a deeper depression. I'd smile and nod but on the inside I was a mess. I had fleeting thoughts of suicide but I knew that wasn't the answer.
Three years later I was better. I wouldn't go so far as to say "healed" but on the inside I was miles away from the girl who had first walked into my therapists office. I'm so glad that I made that choice to seek help. Since that time I've been able to share my experience with friends and family and some of them have decided to seek out therapy as a way to get through hard times. Sometimes people are going through hard times and they feel like they are the only ones who have had that experience. It's nice to know that you are not the only one.

I always knew it

You Belong in New York City

You're an energetic, ambitious woman. And only NYC is fast enough for you. Maybe you'll set yourself up with a killer career Or simply take in all the city has to offer.

What City Do You Belong In?

Disappointment

Sometimes the people who are closest to us are the ones who hurt us the most. I feel weepy today and it's really not any ONE thing, it's all of those things piled up together. Like the fact that I don't have overdraft protection and I'm getting screwed like a cheap whore by Citibank, it makes me really sad. The fact that I just sunk money from my savings into my checkings and it's still negative today because of FEES!! f*&^ fees! What the f*(%! How can you f*n charge me fees on the f*n fees! "F" that s&^#!
Yeah, so uhm-I'm kinda mad about that.
Then there is the whole thing with my nieces. I was supposed to see them this weekend but, now I'm feeling like my sister is going to cancel on me. You know, I've always wanted to be an Auntie in much the same way some women have always wanted to be mommy's. I've never pictured myself as the mommy. In MY daydreams, I'm always the Auntie. I give kisses and candy, I come bearing gifts. I buy cool clothes and give money for birthdays. This is what I do. I love it. I don't love when people let there own "ish" come between me and my girls. I haven't seen them in months. I just want to see my baby girls.
I think my mom is up this weekend. I haven't seen her in months either so it will be really nice to see her. I wish she was closer. I miss my mom.

Friday night

Friday I felt like the kid who gets picked last in gym class. No one wanted to play with me. It has been a long week and I wanted to go out for drinks. Heck, on short weeks I want to go out for drinks. I sent the e-mail early in the week to gauge interest, and I got a few bites. A few hesitant, "Sounds like a good idea" were in my inbox by the days end. "Sounds like a good idea" should always be read as, "I'm holding out to see what my other offers are" so I expected a few cancellations. I didn't expect to be begging for companionship on a Friday night but, that is what happened.
On Friday afternoon I sent out an ain't to proud to beg e-mail asking for some confirmations for the evening. I received two responses. They both wanted to do different things. Always one for an adventure I booked them both.
I met Chelsea and co-worker Kim immediately following the witching hour and we chatted about upcoming nuptials as we sipped on our happy hour specials. As the clock struck 7:00pm I rushed to meet Nikia for a showing of The Devil Wears Prada. We were too late, the next two shows that night were sold out. With our plans thwarted we did the next best thing, went to dinner. We went in search of a hole in the wall Italian place called Bianca. Nikia had read rave reviews and after a week long craving for lasagna we headed out in search for a little cheese and pasta. Deep in conversation as we headed down Broadway, we wound up passing Bleeker and had to make a u-turn and head back. Once arriving at Bleeker and Bowery we entered out final destination, Bianca. Bianca is a small Italian eatery designed to imitate your mothers dining room. Small tables are placed close enough together that if you pay attention you can hear your neighbors conversation. Dim lights and candles make for a romantic setting and the dishes displayed on the walls make you feel as if you've come home for dinner.
As we dined and chewed the fat (literally and figuratively) we talked of our presents and futures. Decisions that we're making and dreams that we hope to fulfill. When our stomachs were full of food and our mind of stories we said out goodbyes and made plans to do it again soon.
I'm so glad I begged.

Dilemnas

Jason to Me:

"How do I explain to my 60 something year old Trinidadian father that I can't do it tomorrow because I have plans with my girl and if I break them, I'm in the dog house?"

It wasn't just that she was being a good friend. She was, but it wasn't just that. It was that she was trying to assuage some of her guilt. She hoped the gods would see and hear her penance. That in this act of reaching out (while it was sincere) she could some how free her soul. Then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be kept awake at night hearing a heartbeat that years ago ceased to exist.

I grew up in out in eastern Long Island. Way east, near towns with names that are hard for you to pronounce. Names that once represented Native American tribes but are now markers of economic status. The distance in relationship to any given town tells the world what daddy does for a living. How well he's able to provide. Mommy stays home in most of these towns, it's just the way it goes.
As much as I never want to go back to live there. I miss what it has to offer. Falling asleep on summer nights with the windows open letting in the sound of crickets doing their thing. Catching fire-flies as a little girl and capturing them in clear glass jars, my own personal night light.
I love summer in the city but I yearn for summer in the suburbs. Walking bare foot in my yard, feeling the cool green grass beneath your toes and the taking in the scent of a freshly mowed lawn. I love that smell. Fresh cut grass is really the best smell. It reminds me of so many happy things.
The best is playing outside and smelling dinner as the scent of fried chicken cutlets with rice and vegetables comes through the kitchen window. Then mom would yell to us to come in and wash up for dinner once my dad returned from work. We always ate dinner as a family at the table together, mom, dad and the kids. I loved that. I want that for my future family. To much time is spent in front of computers and televisions. It's nice to come together and share and fight and be a family if only for 30 minutes a day.
I don't really see myself having a strictly suburban life. Suburbia is often devoid of diversity. I want my children to know how big the world truly is. It's hard to see that behind your chain link fence as you return from private school. I am also well aware that uptown, downtown and midtown have their own caste systems at work, as do all of the boroughs but, it's different. You can still visit a different caste and not feel shunned. It's more anonymous here, it's harder to judge a book by it's cover, old prejudices don't always fly.
I'm feeling nostalgic today I suppose. I want the best of both worlds and I don't think that it's too much to ask for either.

First comes love, then comes the house...

This weekend after a double shot of Hennessy and too much sun, he asked me to live with him. I stared back at his brown eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. I asked for clarification because, moving into his current apartment with him and moving into a separate neutral apartment with both of our names on the lease are two different things. He meant the former. I would be willing to put the later on the chopping block and come up with some type of pre-nuptial agreement in say the next 6-12 months. Hey, I'll be older and wiser by then right?-I'll be thirty.

All I know if that I can't live in HIS apartment with him. Maybe it's all in my mind but, it's not fair-it's not equal. Then again what is?

The only thing that we can both agree on is that we would both like to own the next place that we live. We don't want to give up our rent stablilized apartments and then sell our souls to pay someone else's mortage. If there is going to be any soul selling we want it to be deeded with our names.

So I guess in my case first comes love, then comes the house...who ever heard of such a thing?

I'm feeling like a failure these days. The more it's pointed out to me, the more I fight back. Who wants to hear those words? "Your this, your that". All my life I've had to hear the words. Try to live up to someone elses expections. I live a life of biting my words back. When I lash out it's because I'm tired of holdin it in. It's poisoning me. I'm tired of wearing your labels and opinions, it's tearing me down. Create a place for me in your world as I do for you in mine. I've never asked you to be anything other than you. I play devils advocate because I'm a born debater. It comes out without me even thinking first. If I'm asking you to change, I'll think first. Speak second. It's hard.
I know I'm not perfect but, I want to be. I want to cry when my failures make it from the inside to the outside. Don't find joy in breaking me down. I'm sorry that you're so unhappy that you need to make me feel sad. I'm sorry I'm so unhappy that I need to make you mad.
Lately all I can think about is all the things that I never had.

Don't want none of your time...

4 yr old niece: "Hello?"

Me: "Uh, Hi (laughing) Who IS this??"

4 yr old niece: "It's Hannnnnnaaah"

Me: "Oh hi Hannah, does Mommy know that your answering the phone?"

4 yr old niece: "Yes"

Me: (still laughing) "Oh, uhm okay, it's uhm Mar.., it's Auntie Ria is Noelle there? I want to wish her Happy Birthday"

4 yr old niece: "Okay"

4 yr old niece: (yelling) "Noelle, it's Auntie Ria she wants to talk to you"

6 yr old niece: "Why does she want to talk to me? Tell her I'm busy"

rambling

BECAUSE IT'S ON MY MIND

I sweat the small stuff. I wish I didn't but, I often do. I need to always have a plan, I need to be on time and I need the same from you. I don't do well with upsets to my calculated itinerary. Thousands of annoying, whinyquestions are asked and then you stop listening. The way one stops listening after a hearing a baby cry, okay maybe that's a bad example. I don't ignore crying children but, you must get where I'm going with this. We've all tuned out that annoying whatever (in your case, probably NOT the baby).
That is why it's so refreshing, okay refreshing is not the right word. Uhm, that is why it is why Jason is so complimentary to me. He NEVER sweats the small stuff, often times to my own chagrin. If I really take a moment and consider the bigger picture, it's all small stuff.

IN OTHER NEWS

I'll be away this weekend for a wedding reception (they got married last month in Cancun) in Buffalo, New York. I've been to Buffalo once in my life and I vowed to never return. Never say never is true. Tomorrow afternoon I head back for a weekend of celebration. I'm going to make the best of it.

Wednesday I leave for vacation (yes, again) to celebrate My Dear Friend Irene's triumphant entrance into her 30's. It is an all girls week that has been planned since, well...it's been planned since forever. My gift to her is a decent set of luggage. I believe that every woman should have a nice coordinated set of luggage. I mean travel must be done in STYLE dahling. She requested black, I wanted something a bit more bold but it's classic so I agreed. I finally found something stain and dust resistant which is a must because, classic isn't classic when it's dusty and dirty-it's just dusty and dirty and ANYONE can do that!

So we are headed to Mi-ami. It's an annual mecca for Irene and myself. This time we've got an entourage and good times are a guarantee. We've rented a condo with a pool and beachfront access. We're still trying to come up with a signature drink for the trip...something that we can look back on fondly when we return to our real lives.

Alberto has got us shaking in our stilettos a bit. We are all avid weather.com followers this week. I find solace in the fact that the weather forecast is just that, a forecast. They are winging it for the most part. I know this to be true because all day this week the forecast for Miami has been rain and everyday the forecast changes to partly cloudy. I pray this trend continues. Seriously, I pray about weather.

I am so glad that today is the end of the work week for me that, I could do a jig.

Over and out.

If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain

A picture is worth a thousand words, I will let them speak.

If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain...

I fell in love...

Set up begins for the wedding.

The Groom.

The beautiful blushing bride.

I Do.

I Will.

Family Portrait

Billy

Billy was not conceived in love, passion yes, but not love. Billy was born into love though. He has the love of his young caribbean mother who passed on her almond eyes, fair skin and curly brown hair to her son. He is her joy, and has become her first love. This same young boy who was born the first nephew of his loving aunt. The very apple of her eye. She often daydreams of one day having a little boy as beautiful as he. His uncle is often removed from his life but in his way he shows his affection the way uncles often show love to nephews. They engage in occasional rough housing and chat about the latest video games.
He is the first grandchild to his maternal grandmother and her pride and joy. They enjoy a love affair only they two understand. They see one another with love colored glasses and neither can do any wrong.
Billy's life is filled with love and yet he still aches. He aches for the love of a father. His Mother aches to fill his void but in the end she is not a man. Even though she feels like she plays both cards and strives to be both mother and father if she looks in the mirror, she is only mother. Father is long gone.
This makes Billy cry.
In class Billy dreads discussions the lead to daddy talk. Father's Day is approaching and his teacher has reported that he appears depressed, melancholy as she describes it. Mother suffers quietly to hear these reports. She would like to bang down the door of the Father and show him Billy's pain. She doesn't understand how his heart could be so cold, how he could be so uncaring, unconcerned.
This makes Mother cry.
Mother tries to distract him from the absence with activity. He plays sports and excels, coach invites him to bring his father by to watch him play. He learns music and wishes his Father were in the audience at his recital. He makes friends and friends lead him back to daddy stories and the cycle continues.
This makes Mother wonder is she made the right "choice". She is ashamed to think it and puts it out of her head as quickly as it came. She knows the guilt would only be the same.

I:

I AM: A big sister, an aunt, a daughter. I am not a mother but I often mother.
I WANT: Happiness. The deepest, widest happiness not only for myself but for those I care about. I want to learn to be selfless and not care what other people think so much.
I WISH: I had followed my heart more on a few things.
I HATE: Beets and "labels".
I MISS: My mom.
I HEAR: the whirr of the computer.
I WONDER: What the future holds.
I REGRET: Having to make that decision.
I AM NOT: Weak. Kindness should not be mistaken for weakness.
I DANCE: In my apartment in my underwear. I'm to shy to really let go in public.
I SING: even though I can't carry a tune.
I CRY: easily.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: happy for you-I just say that I am.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: Jason calm enough for take off.
I WRITE: because I have too. I have to get the words out of my head.
I CONFUSE: easily. I'm a little slow sometimes.
I NEED: to volunteer. What sense is life if you can't improve apon the lives of others.
I SHOULD: really decide what my next life step is and then DO IT!
I START: vacation on June 21, 2006
I FINISH: what I start.

Dear Mr. President,

(Our president is an ass. I don't feel like I have to defend that statemtent either. If he can do asinine things without giving the American people an explanation well then, so can I. This weekend we celebrate Memorial Day and I salute and support the troops 100%. I'm a huge fan of PINK and I love her latest song Dear Mr. President-I wanted to share it with you.)

Dear Mr. President, come take a walk with me*Let's pretend, we're just two people and *You're not better than me*I'd like to aske you some questions, if we can speak honestly What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?* Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?*What do you feel when you look in the mirror?Are you proud?*Chorus:How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?*How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?*How do you walk with your head held high?*Can you even look me in the eye, and tell me why?*Dear Mr. President*Were you a lonely boy?*Are you a lonely boy?*How can you say, "no child is left behind"*We're not dumb and we're not blind*They're all sitting in your cells*While you pave the road to hell*What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?*And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?*I can only imagine what the first lady has to say...*You've come a long way, from whiskey and cocaine!*Chorus*Let me tell you'bout hard work*Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away*Let me tell you 'bout hard work*building a bed out of a cardboard box*Let me tell you 'bout hard work! Hard work! Hard work! Hard work!!!!!!*How do you sleep at night?*How do you walk with your head held high?*Dear Mr. President, you'd never take a walk with me*...would you?*

This weekend THANK a vet, find a bbq and enjoy your American freedom. Men and women died to give you this right.

-Maria

Real Life

I'm back to my real life. Back to dragging myself out of bed and doing the necessary to present myself to the world. Back to paying bills and scooping cat litter. Back to cleaning up hairballs and doing laundry. Back to my folder of take out menus and an empty refrigerator.

Gone are the lazy days of napping in the sun with a cocktail in one hand. Gone are the days of pool games with Jason and kisses under the Carribean sun. Evening fold down service is gone, I'm my own maid now.

We had a great time-minus the three hours we spent taxied at the gate on our flight to Miami. Oh yeah, and minus the black out in Cancun our last night. Only me, only me. Honestly, it added to the adventure. Even the fact that I had to hold Jason's hand at take off to help him keep calm-all these little parts flavored the trip.

I took a bunch of pictures but have yet to develop the film (yes, I still use film). I actually own a digital camera but still prefer to use my 35 mm. Call me old fashioned...

Once I have them up I will post more.

I'm baaaccckkk...

Actually I've been back a few days. I've been swamped with work and life but I will update soon. Things are good with me I mean Mariah Carey is in concert (tickets WILL be gotten-I'm in the fan club so I get pre-sale tickets!) and I have already got tickets for X-Men: The Last Stand on Friday. It don't get much better n' dat!!

Leaving on a jet plane, unfortunately I know exactly when I'll be back again...May 23rd.

See you then.

Dear God,

It's me, Maria. I'm too through. If I wasn't going on vacation this weekend I'd probably be going to jail because everyONE and everyTHING is getting on my nerves. I haven't lost it though. I'm hanging in there cause I can see my silver lining. Only thing is it's blue not silver and the lining is water.

In other unrelated but equally important news, I woke up at 3am this morning. Instead of beating myself back to bed I watched the Jeffersons. I love watching the that television show, it makes me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside. Maybe it's just because it reminds me of a simplier time? After that I had a bowl of oatmeal because it's the only thing eatable that I had to eat in the house. I really need to start buying food. For serious.

Next I organized my kitchen cabinets. This didn't take long because only two of the four cabinets contain food items. Well, if you consider spices (for food I never have) and a million boxes of tea- food items then well, yeah. Don't forget the aluminum foil, I got 3 rolls of that. It's good for wrapping up left over take out.

Project number 3 was washing the dishes. Three bowls, three cups and a few forks and spoons later I was done. Next, I focused my energy on the "pantry" (read:refrigerator). I use the "pantry" to not only store items that need to be kept at a lower temperature but also to store my tupperware, pots, pans and whatever else I want to keep out of sight. I dumped anything old and made everything neat. Now all I need is some food and I'll be set.

Project number 4 was to reorganize my cd's (yes, I still use them). I have a tendency to use a cd and not return it to it's rightful case. After a few weeks I have a stack of cds and a bunch of empty cases. This morning I matched cd cases to cd's. I did all of this before 6am!

Last night I did a bulk of my packing so I'm nearly good to go.

...

Tomorrow is my birthday. I will not be negative I will celebrate my life. I will smile. I will see the blessing of having another day to live and I will be thankful for my .... years of life. Hey, I'm still a work in progress! I'm not ready to say it outloud yet...

Lead me not into temptation...I know my way

In a last ditch act of insuring a flat stomach while on vacation-I've given up sugar. Of course, now it is the only thing that I think about day and night. I am determined though, forget about the thunder in my thighs, or the jiggle in my arms, these things won't matter when you see my flat stomach.
I have two more work days this week (I'm off tomorrow) and a crap load of "things to do" still. First and foremost, I need to pack. I'm a slow packer. I usually start packing about a week and a half out. This insures that I don't forget anything. As of today I haven't packed a stitch of clothing. Grant it some of those stitches are still at the wash-n-fold waiting for me to pay $31.75 and pick them up, something that I was supposed "to-do" on Sunday. I have packed in my mind though...so that should speed up the process a bit. I've bought a few new pieces for this trip-I kind of had too. My vacation pictures were begining to look oddly like one long long vacation. There might be more of me to love this time around but gosh darnit if I won't look cute!
Secondly, I need to get there mentally. The month started off really rough and I haven't quite been able to get to vacation zone in my mind yet. I still haven't grasped the fact that it is indeed May and I'm leaving this weekend.
This is the first vacation for the man and I. We will head to Miami for a few days before we jet over to Cancun. Don't you love the way that sounds! I can almost smell the salt in the air and visualize the frozen drink in my hand.
I've been forewarned that quite a few break ups have occurred following a couples vacation to South Beach. I say, "I'll take my chances". I am really excited to have the opportunity to share my two loves with one another. Summer starts on Sunday...I'm So Excited!!!!!!

It doesn't matter if your black or white

Last week I read a post dealing with racial issues. It dealt with being a black woman in a world that can't seem to accept you because your not "black" enough. It struck a cord with me on so many levels.
I'm So tired of this debate. I'm so tired with people telling me I "sound white". I'm so tired of being accused of not being black enough. Of people telling me that I don't think I'm black. Your right, I don't "think" that I'm black, I "know" that I am.
Why does being black have to be equated with poor speech, a style of dress or the music that you listen to? Those are always the first things that are attacked when someone is deemed not black enough. The funny thing is that the white folks think that I'm too black for them.
That leaves me in limbo.
I haven't felt like this for quite some time but, ever so often I come across someone who plays that old tune. Someone who thinks they know who I am- "Oh, your from Long Island, that's why you talk like that". No, I talk like this because this is how my black mother talked to me.
Why can't we all just be human beings and try to co-exist? Why can't I listen to whatever I want to on the radio and have an appreciation for all music? I love and appreciate Hip-hop and R&B but it's not the only music on the planet. Black folks started rock and roll.
I grew up in a home where every human being was presented as equal. Yes, some preconcieved ideas snuck in here and there, that is human nature. I was encouraged to stay true to who I am. I've struggled with this. I've even doubted myself at times-wondering if the haters were right. One thing that I love about New York City is that everyone gets to be whoever they want to be. If whoever that person is happens to be a bit out there it's just chalked up to, "Only in New York". I've never felt more free than living here. There are the moments though when I'm slapped in the face with the realization that even HERE it's still not safe.

Inhale...Exhale...Inhale...Exhale...

As I came off my high of finishing the half marathon last week I had a death in the family. My first reaction was one of sadness at the loss of my uncle. Although we had never been very close he always attended family functions with a smile on his face and a hug for everyone. My aunt and uncle were extremely close as were their children and they are taking this loss very hard. My sadness and hurt was for them, I can barely imagine the pain they must feel. The lost a brother and uncle whose daily life was intricately interwoven with theirs in such a way that his death leaves a gapping hole. There is no way to measure the pain. My uncle leaves behind a 23 year old shadow. It is the only way to describe the relationship that this father and son shared. There was rarely one without the other. They lived and breathed each one another. When I think about the pain of losing a parent I almost want to cry. I once had a dream that my mother had left this earth and in my dream I couldn't stop screaming. The emptiness and lonliness felt heavy and dark on my chest, I could hardly take in a breathe. I woke up with tears in my eyes and immediately called my mom to make sure she was okay. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have my mom. I wouldn't want to be on this earth anymore. I just don't see the point. Even thinking about the day, a day...I can't...I can't think about this.

Past tense:

There is always one that you have to get out of your system. They are poison for you, and you know this but, they get "in" you and you can't get over the addiction. His name was, well, I am opting to protect the less than innocent. He was my latin love. I think every girl should have one-they're good for the soul.
We met at the gym. It was the first and only time that I met someone in which the initial meeting had a palpable chemistry. You could smell the pheromones and feel the eletricity. He was my self esteem booster. To be looked at the way he did, there wasn't any other way to feel. He was very sure of himself in an almost cocky way and yet, you couldn't turn away. You (I) listened to him. I kind of wanted him to boss me around, as much as it angered me-I kept coming back for more. Whatever he gave, I took. Some where along this story things got really twisted. The fun game ended and the lies began. Honestly, the lies were always there I suppose it's just that I got tired of hearing them. I got tired of half truths and deception. Chemistry was no longer enough to hold me. I needed more. I felt that I deserved more.
I grew up.
One day I opened my eyes, I mean really opened my eyes and knew that I couldn't do this anymore. I deleted him from my phone and asked that he do the same. I went through withdrawal but it was worth it to have back my sanity. I got over him. Slowly slowly I got over him. He made a brief reappearance claiming rebirth, asking for a chance to prove himself. I declined.
On Saturday he came back. Well, it wasn't HIM actually, it was just his scent. He sat next to me on the subway platform surrounded by a cloud of Acqua di Gio. The smell knocked me back a few years and took my breathe away for a moment. Then I was back. I couldn't help but smile. I'm glad for the memories but, it lets me know how far I've come. How much more I know myself and the things I want and don't want. I've had the opportunity to go down that rocky road again but, I chose not to. I am proud of myself for that.

10 of lifes simplest pleasures

(I was tagged last week to do this)

1. Enjoying nature (in the springsummer).

2. Any time that I get to spend with my family.

3. Coming home to a roommate-less apartment.

4. Laughing with Jason.

5. Sharing time/food/drinks with people with whom I hold a history.

6. Getting dressed once and having everything fit.

7. A favorite pair of jeans.

8. When everything is paid and you've got money to burn.

9. A new perfume.

10. The night before vacation.

Cats in the craddle and the silver spoon

Overheard on the bus yesterday:

Son: "I wanna be like you when I grow up, I wanna be a singer!"
Father: "Yeah?" he says smiling
Son: "No, wait I wanna be like Uncle Teddy when I grow up!"
Father: "No, no you can't be like Uncle Teddy"
Son: "Why not?"
Father: "Uncle Teddy still doesn't know what he wants to be yet...but he's gonna figure it out, yeah, he's gonna figure it out"

I've been avoiding writing because I'm feeling funky. I have 126.86 hours in my vacation bank as we speak and 25 days till I head to Laguardia Airport. My skin is the color of cafe au lait and I so see myself as more of an island girl...I prefer my skin the color of semi-sweet. The blacker the berry the sweeter the juice has always been my motto.
The weather has been inconsistent and it's playing with my emotions. One day the sun is shining and I get to wear my new sunglasses. The very next day I have to remember to secure my scarf around my neck to fight off the cold winds. Can't anything in life be constant? Can't I at least be able to depend on the weather. Even as I'm writing that it doesn't make sense. The weather is the only change that is constant, unfortunately.
Friday I had dinner with the First Wives Club. They took the train from the 'burbs to celebrate Best Gal Pals birthday. In the mist of the rain we dined on southern italian and drank in each others stories. I was glad I came out, even as I made my way through the maze of people in Times Square looking for a pair of cheap comfortable shoes to relieve BGP's swollen pregnant feet. It wasn't quite a summer night out...but I could almost feel it. As the weather gets nicer, the plans for "let's get together" seem all the more tangible. I can't wait for afterwork drinks at the seaport followed by "we should get something to eat, you hungry?". It's what summer in New York is all about.

Watch out world here I come!

I'm learning to drive. This is my latest goal, a license. I've given up on the friends and family who have promised to "teach me to drive". I get one or two lessons out of them and that's it. It's not due to my skill level either! A couple of weeks ago after taking a good hard look at my permit, I realized, that it expires this year on my birthday. How could five years have come and gone so soon?

Shortly after making that discovery I bit the proverbial bullet and paid to enroll in a driving school. My instructors name is John. I like John. John is nice. John has patience. John used to teach mentally retarded children...not to drive...that was my question when he told me that!
I've had two lessons on the these mean Manhattan streets. I am alive to tell the story.

I was really nervous at the first lesson. It wasn't my first time behind the wheel but it was my first time with the so much traffic around me. The school in located in the Union Square area and my lessons are generally at the time of rush hour. Thankfully due to the huge "Student Driver" sign on the top of the car I have recieved some courtesy. I was only honked at once for not moving fast enough after the light changed from red to green. The honk of annoyance came from a yellow cab driver and in my book they don't count. They have very limited patience and often limited driving skills themselves. Other than that lesson number one went smoothly. Slowly but smoothly.

At lesson number two I made a conscious effort to be more relaxed. I can't worry about the cars around me. I have to relax and remember what to do. My parallel parking was really good in lesson number two.

I have three formal lessons and then my road test on May 10th.

Last night I drove home from Coney Island. I was really nervous but, I did fine. I'm proud of myself. I'm proud that I'm being productive and doing positive things for myself. Now all I have to do is find my way to the gym at some point in the near future because I haven't been all week. I'm running 10 miles tomorrow though so ...that's gotta count for something...

Commitment

One month from today I will be 29 years old. I've been having some crazy thoughts today. Thoughts that involve leaving New York and living somewhere else for a few years. Just quitting and packing and leaving and starting a new chapter. My stomach jumps and gets nervous at the thought of it but, why not? I couldn't keep the feelings inside any longer and I ran it by "him" just to see where his head is at in all of this. His heart is open to the possibility of adventure and that makes me smile. I've talked like this before but it was in abstract. This year I want to see how it could possibly come to life-I want to get a real plan. I'm researching and reading and I won't stop until I have some answers. I'm sure my vacation next month will get the creative juices flowing...

I keep a favorite "What I know for sure" article by Oprah on my desk and lately more than ever I want to keep it in the fore front of my mind. "Once you decide what you want, you make a commitment to that decision" I want to commit to making my life more of what I want this year.

No regrets

I made a new friend this summer. He is a physically fit gentleman in his mid-fifties with a hearty sense of humor and a personality larger than life. His body is his personal canvas. He has adorned himself head to toe in sentimental works of art. He is a father and a husband. He is living with cancer. Yesterday he found out he is dying.

Have you ever wondered what if would feel like to know that your dying, and there isn't anything you can do about it? There is no cure. No hope. All you have is today. All any of us really have is today isn't it? We forget that but it's true.

Thinking about how it must feel to be in his place had me really upset last night. I even dreamed that my doctor called me and told me that "I" was dying. The mind is a crazy thing. I tried to think about what I would do? Who I would go see? How would I live out my last days? I feel weird even writing about this. "We first start dying the day of birth" isn't that how the saying goes? (sigh)

I don't want to live my life with regrets. To date I have only one. It is not something that I can change so I try not to dwell on it. I want to have the courage to say all the things that I mean, all the things that are on my heart. My intention is not to hurt or offend others but to live. This blog is one way that I can do this. It's semi-anonymous but it's a small world out there. My words will ruffle feathers but, that's the point. I don't want to live life standing on the side lines-I want to get in and play the game.

My monday morning 2 cents

I hate waiting for the penny. You know the penny in change that you get back when something is $1.99 or $1.49? That penny. I just bought a bag of overpriced pretzels in the giftshop, they were $1.49 so I gave the cashier one dollar and two quarters. Then I waited the awkward wait while he made the change. I guess he didn't expect me to stick around for the penny because he glanced up kinda surprised that I was still there and asked, "Would you like a bag?" "Urgh, uhm no, no" I mumbled as I reached out for my penny feeling like Oliver Twist. Should I not take the penny? It is mine, I work (okay, maybe not) really hard for my pennies.
My other thing is when the bodega guy charges me for the penny. He'll charge me $2.00 for something that is $1.99. I don't think that this is fair either. My whole thing is that pennies add up to dollars and dollars add up to down payments for houses, groceries, vacations and well, maybe I'm stretching it but you get where I'm going with this. Every little bit counts.

I feel guilty because I don't feel any emotion. I feel nothing, if I feel nothing then maybe I am feeling...it is just that the emotion is nothing-ness. I'm worried because shouldn't I feel mad or sad or glad? something would be better than this nothing numbness that I feel.

The only thing I really feel is that I wish it had happened to you.

Last night I had my first workout at Lucille Roberts in downtown Brooklyn. Now being that it's in downtown Brooklyn, you know it was interesting. If you don't know-I'll tell you. Let's just say, all of Taquan's baby mutha's was there. I know, I know that's not fair but, true isn't always fair. All jokes aside, since I've never been to a Lucille Roberts I didn't really know what it would be like. At this particular location the main focus is classes. The class area is on the main gym floor (the whole gym is the main gym floor actually, it's small) and the weights and cardio machines are on the perimeter facing the class. During class the backs of the participates are to the people training on machines. I actually liked that part because the upbeat music that they use can be heard by everyone working out and it really helped me last night.

I just don't understand why women are so catty towards each other. I picked Lucille Roberts not only because of the price and location but because it's all women. I was tired of feeling to intimidated to use the free weights or machines where all the muscle heads congregated. I'm too sensitive I suppose. I need to grow tougher skin and not give a crap what other peoples agendas are. I'm trying to work on this.

Overall I'm glad that I joined. It's not a fancy place to work out but it will get the job done. I have 6 weeks left before I have to take it all off and I want to be ready. I mean, I'm already fabulous so can you imagine the unveiling?!

It doesn't hurt less because I know your angry. My face still gets hot and my jaw clenches when you hurl out words in frustration that you'll regret later. Even though you said it in a whisper it still falls on my heart like a ton of bricks. I heard every word.

Drunk dialing

Last night I was drunk dialing. Only I wasn't drunk, at least I don't think I was. There was something in that frozen Mojito that did something to me. Seriously. When I got home I had this really strange desire. All I wanted in the world was to be on vacation. I wanted to pack my things and head to the airport. Do you know what it feels like to spend the day at the beach nodding in out of naptime with the sun caressing your body and the sound of the ocean in your ears? Do you know what it feels like to return back to your hotel just as the sun is setting to shower and get dressed for the night ahead? The smells of salt water and your after beach snack mingle closely as you gear up for a night of people watching and dancing. Last night I felt like I should be taking a shower and then getting dressed to go out, vacation out.
With track 15 of Mariah Carey's Emancipation of Mimi on repeat I dug out the photo albums, poured a glass of water and called My Dear Friend Irene. No answer. So, I called her home phone, still no answer. As I continued to thumb through the pictures I took a trip down memory lane, note to self-get rid of the ex-files. Page after page reflected back to me my past. Places I've been people I've known, then I saw her, Nicole. I haven't spoken to her since the new year and my fingers searched for her number in my phone. On the first try I dialed her old cell phone and was greeted by the piercing "do-Do-DO, the number you have reached is no longer in service". I panicked because it was almost 10:30pm and I didn't want to call her house directly and risk waking up the kids or her parents but, I needed to hear her voice. I needed to hear a familiar voice, I just did. Okay, maybe I was drunk.
While I was looking for the new cellphone number, My Dear Friend Irene called. Her voice filled with sleep she wanted to know if everything was okay.
"Yeah, it's just that, I need to go on vacation. I can't take it anymore 'rene I can't. I'm dying on the inside. I want to just pack my bags and go in the morning, that's all I want". "I'm looking at pictures of the first time in Miami. I see Tito and Micky and, and-what's that guys name?? Danny right? yeah Danny".
"Maria you need to go to sleep"
"I don't want to sleep I want to talk"
"Okay well, I'm going to sleep"
"Auughhhh, I hate you"
Click.
With a little more searching I found Nicole's new cell number and dialed. She had to call me back. When she did we talked briefly, quick family updates and a promise to get together. She's off most Sundays so we will get together soon. It's always "soon" isn't it? "Well do something soon", "See you soon", soon sucks, 'cause sometimes soon doesn't happen. We however, do have a date and it is soon.

Be afraid, be very afraid

It doesn't take much to get me in at tizzy. This wins first prize. I've known about this colon cleansing stuff for a few years know but, this is so graphic. I'm really messed up over this, I have parasites? I can't even bring myself to look at the testimonial pictures. I accidently saw half of one picture and had to scroll back up. It ain't nuthin nice. I think I need to use my newfound drugs to get me through this difficult time.
My Best Gal Pal's husband is taking the plunge, or rather, he's about to BE plunged. The goods arrived today as we chatted on the tellie. After reading about all the crap (pun intended) that came out of all the other customers I asked, "Are you going to look? Are you going to look and see what comes out?" "I might" she said, "I just want to see if it's that nasty".
No one believes me but when I "go" I don't look. Ever. Yes, I've caught a glance here and there for one odd reason or another but, generally, I flush before I even leave the bowl. What am I looking at that crap (again, pun intended) for?!
So, needless to say I haven't eaten much today. I can't believe THIS is what it took to keep me from shoveling food in my mouth all day. Maybe I SHOULD look at the pictures and beat this demon head on?

Okay, I'm done talking about things that come out of your butt. Now let's talk about things that go on your face. Things like the fabulous vintage Gianfranco Ferre sunglasses I tried on last night. That I plan to buy soon, very soon, like today or tomorrow when I get the nerve to spend the money. They aren't flashy, they are classic and I love them. In all honesty they aren't that expensive to the average person but, I generally don't pay more than $15.00 for a pair of sunglasses. Eyeglasses, well, for that I'll splurge a bit more for. I just don't get to spend enough time in the sun to justify such a luxurious purchase when it comes to sunglasses(If only my job didn't interfere with my love of travel so much). This summer however, is scheduled to be fan-tab-u-lous and I should be also because well, I am!

To my family with Irish roots: I celebrate you

May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings, slow to make enemies, quick to make friends, but rich or poor, quick or slow, may you know nothing but happiness from this day forward.

What are Friday nights made of?
What are Friday nights made of?
Drinks with ice and everything nice.
That's what Friday nights are made of.

What are Sunday nights made of?
What are Sunday nights made of?
Lots of dread for the Monday morning tread.
That's what Sunday nights are made of.

Co-habitating

One cigarette next to a lighter. I found it yesterday in my apartment. I knew it was his because, he was there the night before. It still startled me. I've lived sans roommate for 5 years now and I'm used to things always being where I left them last. I don't have lots of people over so there really is never anything new that is left behind. So, yesterday evening as I was preparing to sit down for a little dinner and mindless brainwashing I was suprised to see the cigarette and lighter on the t.v. table.
Recently, I've had flashes of "us" living in the same dwelling. I've kept these flashes to myself but, I've thought them none the less. I'm not quite sure how something like that would work. Let's forget the most obvious question of where would we even FIND an apartment and talk about how we would live in it together and both survive to tell the story. To date, his place is a bachelors paradise. Lots of male activities take place around the clock that I would never in a million years tolerate in a home for "us"-of which he is aware. Don't get me wrong, friends and family are always welcome in my home for a visit. My defintion of a visit is something that is infrequent and scheduled-it has a beginning and ending time.
As I picked up the cigarette I remembered how it got there. He'd asked if he could smoke in the bathroom-no, wait-he didn't ask. He's asked in the past-twice, and I said yes. This time we was kind of sneaking off to the bathroom with said cigarette in hand. He knows I hate it, I know he's addicted, we try to dance the dance of understanding around this touchy subject. A subject which he hid from me for the first 2-3 months that we were dating. He said he wanted to get me hooked first before I judged him. As he made his was to the bathroom I said out loud, "No smoking" in my whiniest most annoying voice, to which he huffed and set the cigarette and lighter on the table.
Which brings me to my next point. If it's "our" place can I force/request/demand him to smoke outside or in the bathroom? I mean if he doesn't, he's killing us both slowly-at least if it's confined he's only killing himself a little at a time. I don't want to die because of someone else's addiction without any of the benefits. I want to at least be able to say that, "I had a helluva time!".

Things I wanna do this springsummer:

We all know I love springsummer. That is not a typo, it should really be one word dontcha think? I think I'll start the lobbying in Washington-who's in?? I'm always down for a road trip. So, my baby will be here next week, she's due to arrive on Monday. Spring that is, her sister will follow in a few-as they say. I've been inspired to make a list of things I wanna do this springsummer. This is in addition to the things that I'm officially doing already. These items are in random order.

1. Take the ferry to Staten Island. Not exactly the MOST exciting thing to do but, I've never done it...

2. See Coney Island at night. I'm not touching the rides but I just kind of want to see the meat market action in lights. I want to eat a hot dog and greasy french fries and laugh about how my diet is going to hell.

3. Take a week day off to go to the movies or shopping or whatever I want. I do this every year.

4. Take part in as many free City activities as I can. Last year I finally made it to Bryant Park for the Monday night movie in the park. It was 239 degrees even at 9pm. Good Times though.

5. Find a great outdoor eatery and use it to death all summer.

6. Hang out in my neighborhood more-last year was the first year I really did that.

7. Have Tea with friends.

8. Have lots of after work drinks and dinners with friends.

9. Take lots of weekend trips to VA Beach this summer (Beach and family-I'm so glad my mom is a beach lover too ) on the Chinatown bus-$40 roundtrip-now THAT'S a bargain! (disclaimer: a scary life threatening bargain but, one nonetheless).

10. Work really really hard on my personal endeavors so that in a few years I can do what I want and have what I want.

My time

My next free Saturday to myself is May 27th. This year is SO busy but, in a good way. I'm doing a lot of things that I've been talking about forever. On the one hand it feels really good to be productive but at the same time it's stressful. I can feel it in my bones that this is going to be a great year and that I'm going to burst into my 30's with all this great momentum and energy! It's exciting. I promised myself 2006 would be my year and so far it's going good. There are always going to be slips and falls, this is life not a fairy tale-but I'm ready.
I recently read an entry by Genna that talks about self image. Genna faults herself for at times thinking of herself in a negative way but finds joy in the fact that she is moving away from that way of thinking.
Anyone close to me knows that my self image isn't exactly 100%, so I can't sit here and lie. I admit, I've got a rack full of issues but, I don't want to be like that any more. I know, I know, I've said this before...lots of times before. This time I am going to be pro-active about it. I want to see myself the way others see me. I am sure that the people who care about me don't see me as harshly as I view myself. I'm going to begin to practice self acceptance.

What's done in the dark, always comes to light

I've read about it twice today. This morning, I read an article in yesterday's paper that told the story of Teri Hatchers abuse and the role she played in locking up the uncle that abused her. She came forward because a 14 year old little girl who was abused by Teri's uncle committed suicide recently. He's been doing it for 35 years. After I settled in to work (or the avoidance thereof) I checked My Morning Tea and there was someone else telling their story of abuse.

A couple of months ago BestGalPal, her daughter The Diva and I visited the home of my sister and two nieces. The girls believe that they are "cousins" and always have loads of fun whenever they have the opportunity for a play date. This day was no exception.

Prior to our arrival my Martha Stewart sister (Sister #2-in birth order) had prepared homemade playdough and cupcakes. The girls spent the afternoon enjoying each others company as they created doughy one of a kind masterpieces and decorated cupcakes made from scratch (but of course!). As the children settled into a lazy day Saturday afternoon rythmn of Barbies and Dora the adults settled into the livingroom. Sisters #2 , #4 and #5 joined BestGalPal and I for an afternoon chat. At some point the conversation turned to abuse-I'm not sure how or why. Sister #4 spouted a statistic, "One in five women are sexually abused". We all stopped talking and looked around the room. I held my breathe. There we were, my 3 sisters and one friend wondering, "Who?". There was a small pause and someone offered up a story of improperity, some uncomfortable moment at a young age. I don't remember all the details because I wasn't really listening. All I could hear was the sound of my heart, pounding. All I could see was, what happened to me.

I can't believe it happens so often. It's scary and sad. My story is like everyone elses. It involves and uncle and a family friends older son. It starts with sleepovers and dark bedrooms where older boys are trusted to be alone with little girls and they coerce them into playing "games" that make little girls feel uncomfortable. This little girl has a protective mommy who is fiercely afraid that something like this could happen. Her mommy does her best to protect her but-she locks the beast inside.

This little girl has an uncle that isn't quite "right". One day the little girl is left alone for a short while on a warm spring day in her mommy's bedroom. As soon as her mommy leaves uncle picks up the little girl who just started kindergarten and tries to pull down the little girls pants. He lays her on the bed and puts his body on top of hers-the little girl cries out, she doesn't know what is going on. Mommy comes running into the room and her fists and angry words are flying at uncle. He is looking at her like he doesn't quite understand what he just did. Mommy and the little girl never talk about it again, ever. It makes the little girl feel bad because she remembers all the time. Years later, the little girl is a big girl and she sees her uncle several more times. Every time she has to hug him and she remembers it all over again. She remembers that everyone else forgot.

Money and Class

I saw a woman today on the subway and she reminded me of you. Blonde curls arranged in a way that lets us know it comes naturally. Soft curls nestled around her face protecting her from the cold, making me wish that I was a "curly girl". She was tall and lean, dressed in money and dripping with class.

On my mind

I feel like I'm having a breakdown and it's making me nervous. Last night I had a nightmare. In the dream I was being chased by a monster in another world. Somehow I made it back to this world but the monster was still following me. I woke up more depressed than I was when I went to sleep.

Last night I broke down in tears over what would appear to the lay person as nothing. If someone had come up to Jason and handed him committal papers last night-I think he would have signed on the dotted line without batting and eyelid.

I'm feeling anxious and frustrated over a few things. First and foremost, I'm training for a half-marathon. This month and next I have to up my running to four nights a week while I simultaneously raise the rest of my $2100.00 fundraising minumum. Yes, I know-this is the life I chose. It still wakes me up in the middle of the night and gives me stomach pains. Next up on my "things that are driving me mad" list is the fact that work is beyond unchallenging. Work is uninteresting and I am dying to leave but, now isn't a good time because of the things going on in my personal life. I really have to wait until the end of the summer to look/leave-it won't work any other way. Spending the majority of my time at a place where I am unhappy and unfulfilled is hard. These days I am finding joy in the private events that I am planning to create a second income and my summer of travel.

This my sound pretentious but, having not been away for a leisurely, frosted drink, beach bum, party till the sun comes up vacation is taking it's toll. With my mother and brother departing South this summer I have left the state a few times but, a whirlwind weekend trip to VA isn't my idea of paradise. At this point I need AT LEAST a week to forget my worries and sleep my pain away.

I'm going to start shopping this weekend. I have 9 weeks left-and I can't wait! I need spring work clothes, spring fun clothes and a dress for the Mexico wedding. I'm so happy that Spring officially starts this month. I know temperature wise it means almost nothing but, the worst is over. I made it through the winter, almost. The training for the half-marathon helped me deal, this is a positive.

While I'm on the topic:

All are invited to my Fundraising event FRIDAY, MARCH 10, 2006 7pm to 9pm

$40.00 PREMIUM OPEN BAR (ie-Hennessy and Kettle One)
Karaoke, Raffles included in admission
Lemongrass Grill (DOWNSTAIRS IN THE LOUNGE)
9 East 13th Street (btwn 5th ave and University Place)

Email me with any questions.

If your in the area stop by-I could use the support.

This thing called Love

Romantic love is a crazy thing. It's the one elusive that everyone searchs for. The one need that we all have in common-whether we choose to admit it or not. First love, now THAT'S a topic that we could spend all day on! The first time you give your heart you always fall hard. First love takes your breathe away. When it's gone-you suffocate.
For a long time I believed that you only find true love once. I felt that if you get to have it just once your lucky. It's a crazy wonderful feeling and to be able to even experience it that one time would be worth the while. You could live off of the vibrations for years. Have you ever heard anyone talk about a first love? Their face lights up with a smile that even time can't wash away. It's a powerful thing, this thing called love.
Speaking of which, what IS love? I was raised to believe that love is patient, kind, it doesn't envy or boast, it's not self-seeking and that it keeps no record of wrongs. Over the years I have come to except this as my truth. I have moved away from childish notions of love that focus on appearance or materials things. Both of the former can be taken away. I do believe that physical attractiveness is essential to a romantic relationship though. I've come to see that the personality of a person shines through and often times a person who you wouldn't give a second glance some how becomes all the more attract. The same holds true for someone who you might find to be very physically attractive, once you meet the "real" them - everything changes.
You know what's also interesting?
You never end up with who you think you will.
I don't believe in finding someone to "complete you". I'm a whole person (thanks to years of therapy) and I've been looking for another whole person, someone to compliment me, and vice versa. I believe that relationships are about each person giving 100%, if you don't give your all then what do you have?
This last year I've spent with someone who compliments me. It's been a long time coming. A LONG TIME! They are not perfect but, neither am I. He has a beautiful heart and his actions show his feelings for me everyday, it's all that I've ever asked for.

As told to me:

It wasn't a decision that came easy. She tells me how she cried many nights before she came to peace with it. Peace in knowing that it was the choice she was going to make. Funny thing is, she hasn't had peace of mind since.
When I look into her eyes as she tells the story of how her life was forever altered the line between right and wrong somehow becomes harder to see. My gut, my morales-the "way I was raised" suddenly fall aside and somehow I see this human girl in front of me. Tears in her eyes choking on words she hasn't uttered out loud since that day in the clinic, when she sat opposite her "counselor". She tells me that she's a good girl-she wasn't raised "like this".
I believe her.
How many of us have lives that have detoured from, "Train up a child in the way that they should go and when they are old they will never depart from it"? I had to nod my head in agreement-I hope the gesture wasn't misconstrued. It's only that-I've been there. Standing in the streets of my life looking around wondering, "When?" "How?".
After a while she continues, she wants to shares the details with me. Details I'd much rather not hear. We compromise and she tells me how she felt when it was over. As she lay on the stretcher waking up from anesthesia, the first feeling she felt was loss. She tries to explain the feeling to me, "It's kinda like when you wear earrings everyday and one day you forget but like a million times worse. It's gut wrenching-how can I lose something that I never had right?" I listen to every word. I feel as if I've lived this experience with her. I want to reach out and hold her hand and let her know that she's not alone.

Suggestions?

11 weeks. 11 weeks until I hit the beaches of Miami and Cancun and I'm not ready. My body won't co-operate. I'm running, I'm cutting back. I'm cutting out-I'm ready to cut OFF the fat on my thighs because, I don't see any other way to remove it. I was just emailed pictures of myself from a recent event and it wasn't nuthin' nice. It's disappointing because I've been good. Even on the weekend-even in the dark, when no one is watching but me. Still, nothing. I don't understand.
Maybe it's my pill?? I had a long talk with a doctor friend to get her opinion but she doesn't think so. The thing is my period is ferocious without that little pill. I'm talking tampon AND a pad. I was tired of walking about hemmoraging every month. This pill has been a life saver. I don't really want to give it up but...I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror without gagging. I want my thighs to fit in my jeans. I want to be able to utilize my entire wardrobe.
The messed up thing is that some days I FEEL good then I take out something from my cute days and can't get it over my fat ass. I want to scream!
Short of starvation I'm not sure what to do...any suggestions? I'm wide-open...

Question:

Does the truth really set you free? I used to believe that it did. Now, I think that sometimes, the truth just stabs you in the heart and makes it hard to breathe. Would it be better to live in ignorant bliss? Who knows?

xoxo Hallmark Holidays xoxo

I can't remember the last time I had a Valentine. Well, a few years ago I had a half-assed one, he picked up flowers at the deli and gave me a kiss and that was that. It felt forced, even then. I don't have a problem with bodega flowers, when you get down to it a flower is a flower... My issue is, no forethought. There is something to be said for thinking it through, trying to find a gift that suits me. I don't care about the price tag-I swear, I mean I'm not giving back diamonds but, it's not a prerequiste. I just want to know that you cared enough to think about my likes and dislikes, my wants and desires. Did you remember the conversation we had when I mentioned that I loved the cupcakes at Magnolia? or that my favorite soap scent at L'Occitane is Miel? If I'm in to you, I'm listening. I'm listening and taking notes and you should do the same. What's fair is fair. I don't buy gifts that I cannot afford and you shouldn't either. That is not my point.
This year I have a Valentine that won't suck. He's being dragged into celebrating kicking and screaming, because, he knows it's what I want. I know also that he confided in a friend in regards to a gift for me. That is what I'm talking about, forethought. Even if you think it's a Hallmark holiday-which it is, take one for the team.
I'm not doing the going out to dinner thing. That is my only request. It's too cheesy, all those couples-coupling over candlelight and champagne. It's nauseating. I want to order in, watch a good movie and be happy for what I have. That to me will be a great holiday...oh and the gift...yeah, don't forget the gift.

xoxo

everywhere

It was an early Sunday morning. The suns rays got caught in the mini blinds and shone into my eyes, waking me. I looked over at you, I thought you were still sleeping but, you were looking at me. "I want you to come with me", you whispered. "Where?" I questioned, glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand that read 7:34am. "Everywhere" you sighed and pulled me closer.

Promise??

Best Gal Pal and her 3yr old Diva Daughter

Diva Daughter, "Mommy, can I have 2 PopTarts?"

Best Gal Pal, "If you eat 1 you can have another one."

Diva Daughter, "Well, I certainly like that deal!"

Best Gal Pal and ME

ME, "Mommy, can I have two vodkas on the rocks?"

Best Gal Pal, "Only if you finish your shot of tequila!"

ME, "Well, I certainly like that deal"

"That sounds like a whole lotta crazy!"

I've been thinking about friendships alot lately. Friends are the best. You chose each other and if all goes well then-you stay together for years. Sometimes you have to break up because well, sometimes that's how life is but, most times, it's friends till the end. Isn't that cool?
My oldest friend is Nicole. I've known her since I was 5 (she was 4)-our families grew up in the same church together. There were others that I was friends with but we've actually stayed the test of time. We sometimes go a month of two without speaking but when we do...it's as if no time at all has passed. Nicole has a family almost as crazy as mine and we've learned to laugh together about it. She knows all of my "stuff" like even #55. Nicole let me cry on her shoulder when I broke up with him. I mean snot and all...she even came to Brooklyn to spend the night with me. This is huge because she hates the city and has to be pulled by her eye teeth in order to make the trip. That night though, she just came. The following year I got to do the same for her when her 5 year relationship made it's final bow.
Now Best Gal Pal, she's the part I was missing. You'd have to meet her to see it. It's not all peaches though-she gets on my nerves, but, it goes both ways. We've been friends since the High School days. We would spend whole days in school together and then come home and spend hours on the telephone. What we talked about? I haven't got a clue. We joke that we were each others boyfriends-we spent every weekend together. Seriously-it was EVERY weekend. We would watch the KNICKS games and each junk food and gossip. I would sometimes come with milk or cereal in tow because my mom didn't think that it was right that I spend the weekend and not bring any food. Once we got old enough for boyfriends they would join us for this friday night ritual of John Starks and Haagen Daz. If boys were involved though we'd have to wrap the party up by 12am-because that was BGP's curfew. I never had a curfew because any place I went was with BGP and if I wasn't with her I wasn't out. My curfew by default was 12am. A minor technicality mind you if BGP got wind of a party.
I remember the night we walked to an underclassmens "Sweet 16" or some such event. Walking THERE was fine it was summer and the sun hadn't yet set. Walking home in the dark (in Eastern Long Island-with limited lighting on the road) was another thing. The OTHER thing being her mother, who we didn't manage to beat home. As we were walking/running back to BGP's house her mother spotted us on the side of the rode and pulled over. We were like a deer caught in the headlights. The only place we had to go was inside the car and face the music. Once we were safely inside of the car she proceeded (using 4 letter explicitives) to warn us of all the danger we had just put ourselves in. She even threatened to call my mom when we got home (before the advent of cell phones). She never called and we survived yet another adventure in the chronicles of Maria and Chicka.
After High School we got out of touch for a bit...she missed some stuff. It's not all good and I don't like going backwards so when we got back in touch I never talked about it. Sometimes it weighs on my heart though.
The last several years things have been the way they should be...I'm happy for that. We have our own lanuage of phrases, "That sounds like a whole lotta crazy!" is the latest addition.
Now, My Dear Friend Irene and I also have a lanuage; it's bizarre-like us. Irene calls herself "Big Momma" and I call myself "Momma". Maybe Irene remembers but-I don't remember where it started. I met Irene's mom before I met her. I liked her mom alot-her I didn't really think about. Her version of the story is different though maybe one day she'll tell it. I became friends with Irene the same year she became a mom. I was a senior in college and she had just deferred her collegiate dreams. We've come of adult years together. We've spent nights out and due to lack of childcare just as many of those nights in. Irene and I do the daily friend grind together. The Saturday morning calls to see what each other is doing or the Saturday night calls to see if you want to share a bottle of wine. We often travel together, Irene is my travel friend and I am hers. When I christened South Beach, Miami for the first time (or was it the other way around?) she was by my side in line at Wet Willie's for a "Call a Cab". This year we are celebrating her life back in South Beach. At first, we wanted to do something new. See something we haven't seen before, do something we hadn't done. It didn't work out that way though, and personally, I think it's for the best. South Beach is a place that we've had so many fun memories. Whether we travelled there alone or together it's the place we keep coming back to for more. I think that it's the perfect place to celebrate 30 years of life. After all, once you've been there you get to see what "livin'" really is!

***
There are so many people who have touched my life over the years-I wish I could keep writing but my fingers are getting tired. Just know that I love you all!

xoxo,

Maria

Life

I think I have writers block. The well of creativity seems to have shut off, much like the water fountains in Prospect Park this time of year. Maybe it's not block at all, maybe it's life overload. There is so much going on around and in my life right now that it's hard to separate each thought out and put each one where it belongs. They are all swirling like a whirlwind in my head. My desk at work is covered in post-its; my planner is chuck full of to-do lists. I've even started to put my bills in my planner sorted by due-date and affixed with paper clips or staples-just so that I don't forget. Con Edison doesn't take kindly to late payments, as I found out a few months ago when I received a turn-off notice because I forgot to pay. I don't forget anymore.
Well I'd love to dump the details of all that is onto these hallowed pages but...I won't-at least not today. I'm still kind of chicken in that way. I'm not really ready to tell all. Least not here anyways.
I'm not sad and nothing bad has happened. Actually, emotionally I've been feeling pretty good. Yeah, I'm still tackling the weight issue but that is never going to change-even when I lose the pounds, I'll have to fight the fat demon for the rest of my life.
In the past I've been told that I can be judgmental; this is a trait that I find unattractive in others-so I really don't want this to be something others see in me. These past few days I've been feeling judgemental. I don't want to feel that way but, I do. I haven't done it openly (I hope) , but in my heart I've been screaming, "Are you freaking kidding me???". A phrase that I often use is, "The beauty of life is that we all get to live our own". I need to heed my own words. The beauty that I find in my life isn't necessarily the beauty that another might find in their life. I try not to buy into conventional wisdom-but sometimes I find myself slipping on the cloak of mainstream thinking. It has alot to do with how I was raised. That is not a negative. It's a statement. It is my truth. I was raised to believe that this is right and this is wrong and that is all. As I've grown more and lived more and had my family life shattered at the very foundation my views on lots of things have changed. I still believe in right and wrong but I'm not the judge, God is. If you don't believe in God that's your business I suppose, I do though.
So I think the moral of this story is about personal growth. This week I got alot of "truth" pushed onto my lap, what I chose to do with it is my deal not anyone elses. I plan to concentrate on MY life and stop worrying about how those that I love could live their lives better. I have to make decisions for me that I can wake up in the middle of the night and live with-they have to do the same. As long as I don't wake up in the middle of the night with their decisions, well, then we're cool.

(sing with me) Good morning heartache...sit down

I feel like crawling into a vat of chocolate then laying down in the fetal position and crying. I get the worst PMS. Today my mood has flucuated from annoyance to I'd like to smash your head up against the wall. This switch in mood takes only seconds. I don't want to be Jekyll and Hyde but today that is the role I was cast to be. It's not only today really-I should be more accurate. The monkey's been riding my back all week, the delivery is scheduled to drop sometime Saturday (probably between 10 and 2). I'll take the ride down the river any day than be awakened at the crack of dawn by a screaming newborn but...I digress.
When I get this way I start doubting myself, and my life and my choices. I get paranoid-like, maybe my boss is on to me. Maybe he's read my print out of George Costanza's "Ways to Look Busy at Work". Maybe today is the day that my gig is up...
Perhaps he has snooped around my desk and discovered how I'm planning the details of My Dear Friend Irene's 30th Birthday. It's even possible that he's seen my flight confirmation for June-a vacation that I'm planning without asking for time first. Did he see me today when I was comparing hotels in Mexico for the wedding is May? I'm sure he did. At least he wasn't here when I updated my resume yesterday. I promise I won't start faxing until he goes on vacation next month though. I'm losing it bit by bit.
I'm supposed to hit the gym tonight and I've been talking myself out of it all day. Ever done that? Tried to convince yourself of something when you know what you really SHOULD be doing? I mean there's always Friday right? But who spends Friday night in the gym? Losers that's who!
Speaking of losers (namely me) yesterday I misread an email from my boss. The email said "Thanks. Keep at it". I read this as "Thanks. Keep it at that". In my version it meant my work was complete. In reality (a place that I don't visit often) it meant I have a crap load of work to do. I figured this out today when the Doctor Lady that I'm working with came in for us to conference and I proceeded to basically dismiss her. Even when she looked at me confused I keep talking. I even pulled up the email to prove the boss man said this is enough. Doctor Lady kept looking at me more confused and then READ the lines that I was pointing to and obviously NOT READING. So, I vow to learn to read a.s.a.p.
I also managed to get on the wrong bus going home at 10:15pm last night. How, I don't know. All I remember is I saw B38 and I got on. When the bus proceeded to go a route I was not at all familiar with I got off, when I looked again at the sign it said B26. Due to the genius that is the MetroCard I could not use my unlimited MetroCard again for 18 minutes so I walked home (granted on the walk-the RIGHT bus never passed me). I walked home in the cold with a skirt on and bleeding feet. Okay, they weren't technically bleeding but that is how they felt. Not only that, I felt like an idiot. I can't even find my way home??
Forty-five minutes till I get out of here and I think me and Orville Redenbacher are going to snuggle up and make this a night in.

Jason meets Best Gal Pal

This weekend I brought Jason home to meet my Best Gal Pal. The plan was to hook up between 1 and 2 (closer to 2) for lunch. Seeing as Jason usually greets the day on Saturdays around the time the rest of us are winding down, I knew I needed to give him incentive. A reason to want to drag his butt out of bed before 4pm other than just the knowledge he'd get to see my beautiful face. I made that incentive Vegetarian Palate, a restaurant devoted entirely to his eating lifestyle. A place where everything on the menu is for him and he doesn't have to do the "side order" dance.
He even surprised me by actually being up and ready to go at 2pm. There was a part of me that thought he'd be behind schedule-(oh ye of little faith).
***
Once we were seated at the restaurant the fun began. As we noshed on a smorgasboard of meatless fair Jason turned on the charm that is he. While attempting to bring laughter to our teenage boy waiter I think he actually achieved the opposite effect. I'm not sure if it's because teenage boy waiter didn't have a strong grasp of the english language or just because Jason wasn't funny. Either way, the one-liners fell flatter than the scallion pancakes that we ordered as appetizers.

The charm did however work on Best Gal Pal. She likes him. I mean they've both heard enough about each other over these past 10 months that it should have felt like old friends getting acquainted - I'm glad it did.

We chatted and ate for nearly 2 hours and then we moved the party up the street to ColdStone Creamery. It was here that Jason, my sister Samantha and I all had our first experience with the Creamery. Before Saturday I had only heard it spoken of in whispers. When a friend would mention the Creamery their voice would drop a few octaves and in hushed tones they would tell me about how it was, "so good" and how I "had to try it".

I have to say that while it was very good-I was so full from lunch that I couldn't totally enjoy the experience. I have to revisit one of these days when I get a craving for cool sweet cream.

Overall, with the latest family drama aside - the weekend was pretty nice.