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39. I was just getting comfortable with my thirties
38. I am never sure of how to exactly spell forty (or is it fourty?)
37. I'm that much closer to 50
36. I enjoyed the fact that Frank seemed so much older - he's 5 years older but
being that I was still in my thirties, I felt like a much younger woman
35. Do you remember how old your parents were in their 40's?
34. My parents became GRANDPARENTS in their 40's!!!
33. Nothing good really begins with the letter "F" - fat, failure, freak, faulty,
foolish, falling-apart...
32. I also enjoyed the fact that my sister was in her 40's while I was still young
and youthful in my thirties
31. Things are starting to hurt that didn't hurt in my thirties - like EVERYTHING
30. You don't get smart-alecky black balloons and snarky cards in your 30's
29. Whoever said you can feel like two 20 year olds, is clearly a liar
28. Seriously, remember how old your parents were in their 40's?
27. Hair color needs to be applied with a little more frequency
26. People expect you to have some sort of "wisdom" when you get this old,
and clearly, I don't
25. You look a whole lot more ridiculous when you act silly on a girls night out
24. I am now near the age of the woman who are referred to as "cougars" who
I think look utterly ridiculous in their attempts to look younger
23. I'm called "ma'am" with a lot more frequency
22. When someone says "You still look so young" - it lacks the sincerity that it
used to have
21. There are more lines on my face than their used to be - people say they are
"laugh lines" or again, "show wisdom" but I'd rather still be smooth, sad
and stupid!
20. I'm getting a lot more forgetful. I think.
19. My teenager thinks I'm old
18. You can't really fit 40 candles on a cake - unless it's a really BIG cake. Then
you're laughed at if you can't blow them all out!
17. Have you looked at the hot guys who used to be sex symbols when we were
in our twenties? They look like walking death!!! Not sexy at all!!!
16. I hear my knees when I climb stairs
15. There are new "tests" that the doctor wants to do when you hit 40
14. I mean, my parents seemed ANCIENT at this age!!!
13. I'm not going to be in Disney World for my actual birthday - the September
trip did not count - even though I celebrated there
12. Chances are, some family member will forget that it is my birthday and it
will ruin my day
11. I will be called grandma at least once on my actual birthday
10. 40 is NOT the new 30
9. I have to check a different box when some application or survey asks my age
8. Dancing with pom-poms just looks sad now (not that I do it that often)
7. If I were to ever get on "Dancing with the Stars", I'd be one of the 'older'
contestants that the judges will marvel at my ability to still move well
6. I seem closer to my parents current age - we can relate to one another's
mystery ailments
5. And again, THEY'RE OLD!!
4. No matter how young you try to look in your 40's, you still come off looking
like some silly cliche
3. I just don't want to!
2. I've not yet written the great American novel!
1. Is it really spelled forty?
Belated Happy Thanksgiving to you all. I hope it was as good of a day for you as it was for me. I started my turkey-day late. Not on purpose, just enjoyed the freedom to sleep in. At least, that was my theory. When I rolled over at looked at the clock reading 10:02, I promptly jumped out of the bed and walked (with only one eye open) to the kitchen to "begin". For those of you who prepare the Thanksgiving feast, you know what I mean.
I had baked a cake on Wednesday night but had not iced it, so I did that first. Once that baby was done, I placed the cinnamon rolls in the oven for the family breakfast. No one did their chores properly on Wednesday so in between all of the food prep, I was cleaning house as well. I stuffed mushrooms, I prepared spinach and artichoke dip, I got my turkey going, prepared the green bean casserole, peeled and diced the potatoes and had the kitchen clean by 1:00. I was pretty impressed with me - AND the fact that I was showered, dressed and sitting in a clean house. Life was good.
We had one friend join us for dinner - a friend of my husband's with no family of his own. He doesn't go out much so Frank picked him up and brought him home. We had some dear friends join us for dessert and I have to say, it was a wonderful Thanksgiving. The kind of day where you sit back at the end of it and sigh thinking "That was nice".
Then came Friday.
This Black Friday will forever be remembered because it was the craziest that I've ever encountered. For all of those news reports of hearing what a recession we're in and how people are broke and will not be shopping this holiday season CLEARLY are mis-informed. I woke up around 3 a.m. for some reason and could not go back to sleep. I was in the shower by 4 a.m. and out the door at 4:35 a.m. The plan was to meet my buddy Michelle at the Wal-Mart at 4:45 a.m. because last year we did not get there until 6 a.m. and missed a lot of the items that we wanted. I knew the place would be crowded - I HAVE shopped on Black Friday many times before - but nothing prepared me for this. I have to admit, I was a little scared. The parking lot was FILLED. Not just crowded, but FILLED. I called Michelle as I walked across the parking lot to see where she was at. She had not arrived yet. I filled her in on what to expect and said that I would meet her in the store.
Walking towards the building reminded me a little of walking in to a rock concert - there were just throngs of people heading inside. Again, a little scared. I got in, there were no carts to be found. Once inside the store a bit, I located one and noticed the large crowed around the first "wrapped display". Seriously, the display was wrapped in some sort of dark plastic so you could not see what was inside. I decided to get FAR away from the 500 people waiting there and went about finding my little deals. Seriously, the biggest thing that I wanted was the $4 boys pajamas that were on sale. How hard could that be? So I walked to the boys department and figured I would just grab the jammies and go when an announcement came over the sound system.
"Good morning, Wal-Mart shoppers..." The rest was a blur because there was some sort of stampede that made me want to hide under a rack for safety! All I could think was, I'm not moving from this spot! But then I remembered that I had yet to meet Michelle. Now I've got to go TOWARDS the stampede. There were hundreds of big screen TV's precariously balancing on shopping carts all around me and all I could think was that I STILL hadn't found the damn pj's, I just might be killed by a big screen TV and these people are pissing me off. I spot my girl and the pj display at almost the same time. One was walking in, the other was right by the big screen tv display. Honestly, the Wal-mart people are evil. No doubt about it. Not in an evil-genius kind of way but just plain evil. I had to take my life in my hands for a pair or two of Sponge Bob pajamas. It's not right, I tell you!
Poor Michelle had even bigger problems. She needed a Wii. We walked towards the electronics department and the line there made me want to cry. I felt like we should have had a long, meaningful good-bye scene at that point because who knew if we'd ever see each other again! There was a possibility - I'm sure many people disappeared yesterday that search parties had to go in for and just at the Wal-mart! I went about my shopping and got just about everything on my list. I was pretty impressed with myself. Once I realized that I could shop no more in this place ( I had my lists for many other stores and their sales), I had no choice but to head in to the electronics jungle in search of my friend. I did eventually find her, she looked a little worse for the wear but we knew that we were almost there; there was a light at the end of the shopping tunnel. At this point in time, there was no guarantee of a Wii. We could only stand there and pray that we would both emerge victorious from this retardedly-early morning adventure.
At 6:45 a.m. it was like we had planted the flag of victory on top of Mt. Everest. We came. We saw. We shopped. We crossed all of our items off our lists. With a Wii in her cart and all sorts of goodies in mine, we checked out. It was as if a great weight had been lifted. A red cape should have been flowing behind each of us. Success...it felt good.
I'd like to say that the adventure ended there, but let's just say that I didn't actually GET home until 2:00. We know how to do a Black Friday right. And now to further sicken you with my exploits, all of the gifts are wrapped now, too. There was take-out Chinese brought to me on a tray by my dear husband for dinner and I did eventually crawl in to the bed last night somewhere around 10 (but only after a hilarious game of Totally 80's Trivial Pursuit with the family).
Today's plan...jammies (and not of the Sponge Bob variety), a chick flick, and not much else. Lazy Stace has emerged and is taking a mental health day.
Which stands for "Obsessive-Compulsive-Facebook-Disorder". Why? Because it has become a little bit of an obsession. I am on there on and off during the day, seeing what my friends are doing, playing some word challenge and basically doing my best to have more friends on there than my teenager does.
Does that seem healthy to you? No, of course it doesn't.
Lately, I have been kicking BUTT in the friend department. I have 248 facebook friends and I think he has around 220. I was feeling all kinds of sassy about my friend status until I went on line this morning and happened to glance at my friend section and it read Friends: 247.
???
Now wait just a minute, my brain screamed, I had 248 friend last night. TWO-FOUR-EIGHT. Where did that one go? Who left me? Why did they leave me? How do I find out who it was? If I read through that list of names, would it instantly pop in to my brain who was missing? On the way to work this morning, Nick was in the car with me and I told him about it in a very casual "oh, so what" kind of tone. He as like "You'll never find out who it was. Facebook doesn't post that information". So my brain is on overdrive and I ask him "Did you tell someone to drop me?" He laughed. He's like "Yeah, because I have that much free time on my hands that in it I call people and tell them to drop you from their Facebook account. Get real." Besides the sarcasm, the boy did seem sincere. And besides, that would just be mean.
Once at work, it's still floating in the back of my brain "Who dropped me? Why did they drop me?" You know, there are a few people I'd LIKE to drop but I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. I dropped one person and that's because I found his profile picture offensive. I didn't send him any nasty letter or notify him of the fact that I was dropping him, I just did it. So now I'm thinking "Did I offend someone with something that I posted? Did I do something that was not politically correct?" I don't know!!! I'm slowly slipping in to madness by now.
Here's the problem with facebook: It is a wonderful sight with lots to do and it has been a blast with catching up with old friends. You can block others from knowing when you are on-line and don't want to have to "chat" with people. I stay off line a LOT because there are some people who seem to have me on radar and instantly want to chat the very second I get on there and sometimes, I'm just not in the mood. I've been told that I can just ignore them but how can you ignore someone who constantly types "Are you there? Stace? Are you okay?" and then when you don't respond, they call you. I'm learning to be selective about what people I give my phone number to anymore because apparently not everyone at this age has learned proper phone etiquette, but that's a blog for another day.
But back to the dropper...I got home this afternoon and, of course, got online and went on to facebook. The 247 continued to taunt but me but I was not going to let it stop me from having fun. So I went on to the flair section and found a funny one to send to my Beeg and you know what? SHE WASN'T ON MY FRIEND LIST ANYMORE!!!!! She deleted me!!!! I call her up and I'm like "Why? Why would you do it?" and she's like "Do what?" Keep in mind, that with our stupid sense of humor, this is something that would be hillarious if we did it to someone else. Doing it to me? Not so much. We actually just had a discussion about deleting people just the other day when I was telling her about this near-stalker person who won't leave me alone. Beeg was like, delete her! But again, I just can't bring myself to do it. And NOT just because I don't want to lose friends and give Nick the opportunity to catch up! It turns out that she claims that the delete was "unintentional" and she laughed about it and sent me another friend request. I'm unsure if I believe her. When I was in Disney a couple of months ago, she took a plaque that I have up in the bookstore where it claims that I am "Employee of the Month - Every Month" and put someone else's name over it! Just to mess with me! And a bunch of people were in on it and couldn't wait to see how long it would take me to notice it! This "delete" thing is just the sort of snarky prank she would pull just to see how observant I am.
Well, I am ON TO YOU!!!! Mean, just for the sake of being mean.
I am glad that the mystery is solved. I will sleep easy tonight but I think I may have to ground myself from using the computer. Well, maybe not everything on the computer, maybe just facebook.
Today was supposed to be THAT day. You know, the one day a year where you are supposed to go to the doctor to be subjected to an "annual". Giving it such a generic name in no way, shape or form changes what it is - a big giant pain in the hoo-hoo. It rates right up there with calling your period your "friend". There are no words that make the experience any more pleasant so let's just call a spade a spade and move on!
My original appointment was for Wednesday but on Friday the doctor's office called and left a message that they had moved my appointment up to Monday. Okay, fine. A little inconvenient because now I have to change my work hours but I'll deal. Now, keep in mind, that I do not have insurance. I do have Medicaid that I can use ONCE A YEAR for THIS appointment only. So, I arrive early for my appointment with all of the dread that goes with it (on par of going for a root canal), I sit through 15 minutes of "verifying" my identity, my income, my Medicaid, blah, blah, blah. I had forgotten to bring the proof of income with me but luckily Michelle was able to fax it over in a flash. Such a good friend! I finally get through with being mentally "probed" that I can now go and sit in the waiting area and wait to be probed everywhere else. Yippee.
They call my name, I go in to the lab and the nurse pulls up my info on the computer and goes "Uh-oh". Not a good sign no matter how you say it. "Is something wrong?" I inquire. "Oh, uh, we can't treat you today," she said.
???
Again, this is one of those moments in my life where I wish I had a pocket recorder that just played the Psycho theme just so I could set the tone for people like this.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Well, with your kind of Medicaid, you cannot be seen twice within a 365 day period. This is day 364."
???
Seriously, the Psycho music should be BLARING at this point. Birds should be fleeing the area, small animals should be scurrying away and women with small children should be running and taking cover.
"But YOU changed the appointment!" I cried at her (yes, in a pitch normally reserved for dogs).
"Oh, uh, ...."
"AND, I took the afternoon off of work to BE here for this!"
"Oh, uh..."
"NOW what am I supposed to do?"
"Let me get my supervisor..." The woman SPRINTED from the room. She returned a few minutes later with a super perky supervisor who was all "Oh, we're so sorry" and "Let's see what we can do" and really, I just wanted to slap her. I was mentally prepared to sit through the humiliation of the stir-ups TODAY!!! I drank like 47 glasses of water so that I could pee on demand (TMI, sorry) and now they are getting ready to pat me on the head and send me on my way!! A few clicks of the keyboard later, they re-schedule me for the end of next week when I actually HAVE a day off first thing in the morning. I am mildly comforted but still ticked. Now I'll have to psyche myself up for this trauma again next week - after I turn 40!!!
Great, another day off down the drain!
Yesterday was my day off. I look forward to that day all week long. I usually plan to crawl right back to bed once my younger son is off to school and sleep as long as I can - just because I can.
Well, unfortunately, that was not the case yesterday. I had to go to the Department of Social Security because SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO I did not change my name on my social security card and now you cannot renew your driver's license unless the names match. So basically, the driver's license that was issued to me by the DMV WITH my married name on it, no longer counts as a valid I.D. You cannot go in with your social security card with the maiden name on it AND show them your marriage certificate, no, you have to go and change the darn card. So, I got up in the morning, got the boy off to school, lingered around not doing much of anything and by 8:50, I was out the door and on my way to Raleigh. I hate going in to Raleigh. I'm just lazy that way and the fact that I thought that the whole reason of the trip was ridiculous did not help with my motivation.
I had been warned by many, many people to be prepared for a long wait, that the people are nasty, there's a list of things that you can and cannot bring in with you, blah, blah, blah. So I went in armed with a book but no snacks or water (even though I had skipped breakfast and was hungry). I went in, signed in on the computer, took my printed receipt with my number on it and found a place to sit. The room was packed. I had very little hope at that point and got comfortable and picked up my book.
"Number 212, please report to blue hallway, desk 3." The voice was clear and pleasant and I noticed two people get up. I looked down at my own ticket and saw that I was number 215! Wow, maybe this won't be so bad after all. And you know what? It wasn't! Fifteen minutes later, I was out of there! I read like 2 pages in my book, went and met with a very pleasant woman, showed my I.D., signed a paper and was on my way. I was a little bit giddy, I have to admit. Now I have time on my hands because mentally I had been prepared to to be in there for a good long while. Option A at this point was to go back home and go back to sleep, but no. I was showered, dressed and out of the house so I should make an effort to be productive and get some things done. So I went with option B and went and did a little shopping.
After a very disappointing and freaky shopping experience in Marshall's - I literally left my wagon in the middle of an aisle and sprinted from the store (a weird guy was following me around), I headed - on two wheels at one point, I think - across the street to Ross. If you've never shopped there and like a good bargain, I highly recommend it. It's a similar layout to Marshall's but where Marshall's promises good deals (and doesn't follow through), Ross did. I bought a long, belted cardigan sweater which I had been looking for, a beautiful, festive green knit turtle neck sweater, a bra and a fondue set all for $35!! I was in bargain heaven! I was energized. I could conquer the world at that point. I ran some other errands and then grabbed some McDonald's for me and Nick and headed home.
It was all down hill from there. Had I known what lie ahead, I would have opted for the extra sleep. After eating, we left the house to run some more errands. First stop was dropping him off at the movie theater to pre-purchase tickets for "Twilight" while I went in to Kroger's to get my .39 cent a pound turkey for Thanksgiving. While in there, mom called with a crisis. She just needed to vent and I understand that but I get too emotionally involved and I cannot understand why people don't speak up when other's are just being unreasonable. I wish for her sake that she would just do that. She'd feel so much better. Nick met up with me, we got the rest of our Thanksgiving dinner essentials, checked out and left. Then it was off to the bank. Just a word here on banking etiquette people, when going through the drive through, could you please just be PREPARED BEFORE getting in line. The guy in front of me had two people in front of him before it was his turn and waited UNTIL it was his turn to write up his transaction. So we sat, and sat, and sat thanks to this idiot. Not cool.
I don't know what happened next, but the conversation in the car turned ugly and it became a battle of getting the last word and at one point I began to contemplate the repurcussions of shoving someone out the door of a moving vehicle. How bad are the local jails? Would I get probation? I mean, no matter what I said, the boy had a snarky come back and it was all I could do to just get him to work without losing my mind! I had to remind him - REMIND HIM - of which of us is the parent and which is the child and who REALLY gets the last word. This should all go under the heading of the "I'm Rubber/You're Glue" chronicles but man can that child push my buttons!
Now, I am mentally exhausted, I'm feeling physically exhausted and am now ready to admit that I NEED a little sleep. Michael came home from school and was cheerily watching TV and having a snack when I decided to let myself relax and lie down. My mistake? I had the cordless phone on the bed with me. Not ten minutes in, my dad calls. Why? I don't really know because he spent as much time talking to his wife and someone else (if not more) as he did talking to me. The gist of the conversation was that some mechanic didn't tighten something in the engine of his car after an oil change and now the engine was blown in his car. Riveting! This one sided conversation went on for like 10 minutes and now I find myself wide awake! And not in a good way! He might have said good-bye, but I'm unsure because of all of the other conversations he was having! That's just rude, you know?
Serioulsy, I am THISCLOSE to changing my phone numbers, or throwing the darn things away, moving with no forwarding address and not letting anyone know where I am - including the teenager!
I love this time of the year. Christmas music, shopping the big sales, and best of all, the Christmas movies. They all make me smile and feel happy. You know what doesn't make me feel happy sometimes? Parenting a teen. I've shared with you the "joys" (and when you read it, say it with deep, heavy sarcasm) of having a teenager. You know that in the last couple of months we have paid his $200 cell phone bill and had to replace his glasses that he lost on a friends driveway and were later run over. The deal was that he would pay us back in weekly installments.
When Nick got his job, we had a financial agreement - terms, so to speak, to help him realize the importance of money management and financial responsibility. Out of his check each MONTH, he would give us $20 a month for gas, $20 a month for his cell phone and $25 a month for us to put in to savings for him. Well, at the time he was working 20-25 hours per week. Then you add in all of the stupidity fees and then the boy was giving us an extra $20 per WEEK to cover all of the money that we had to pay out to bail him out for his poor judgment. So for about 3 months, he was going to have to give us a minimum of $40 a week. Well, like so many in this weak economy, his hours have been cut. He's only working 10-13 hours a week. If he were to give us what he is supposed to on a weekly basis, he would be left with only $20 a week. A number that I am COMPLETELY comfortable with. I'm mean, I'm unreasonable, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la. Next chorus people, I've heard it all before! Anyway, last week I let myself just be mom (and not mean, old Mr. Potter) and told him that he didn't have to give us $40, just $20 because, sniff, sniff, no one should have to live on only $20 a week. Even Bob Crachet got a piece of coal with his measley paycheck. But I also stated that this was a one-time deal.
Well, today is payday. And when I reminded the boy of the fact that we were back on his usual payment schedule he was like uh...no.
Excuse me?
No. N-O. Nuh-uh. Nope. No way. And the funny thing was, he was SERIOUS. How cute is that? As the person who gave birth to him and used to think it was cute to watch him poop, I can safely say that it was not cute at all. So I'm torn between being a hard-ass and taking his money or being walked all over. I tell him that we will talk it over when his father gets home. What does the boy do? He goes to his room and gets out his change jar and with deep sincerity, hands it over to me. "It's only $10, but at least I want you to have something towards my debt." It wasn't said with malice or sarcasm, but with real, honest-to-goodness honesty.
Aawww....dude!
Now I feel like mean old Mr. Potter. There's little George Bailey with his jar of money that is being used to pay off a debt and I feel absolutely... TERRIBLE!!! Why don't I just slap his ear and make it bleed while I'm at it. Again, I state that we will talk about it when his father gets home. He doesn't like that answer, but he doesn't argue. As I am sitting here writing, the phone rings and it is my boy. He's at work and he's calling to tell me that he got a $20 holiday bonus and so now he can pay us what he owes us. Aawww...dude! And now all I can think is that I don't want to take his money! If I do, I should be lumped in with Mr. Potter and Snidely Whiplash! It's like taking money from Tiny Tim!
You're a mean one...Mr. Grinch...
Can you tell that I'm getting in to the holiday spirit?
I've been eight weeks without the treadmill. I'll admit that I LOVE having that space back in my bedroom - particularly now when Christmas is coming and my house will be crowded by Christmas decorations - but I didn't realize just how MUCH I missed the treadmill until I got up the courage to get on the scale this morning, just out of curiosity.
I've gained EIGHT pounds!!!
???
Okay, so I haven't exactly been diligent in my eating since getting back from Disney and I took myself off of my thyroid medicine because I was out of refills and I could not afford to go to the doctor for more blood work so that they could tell me that my prescription is going to stay EXACTLY the same as it's been for the last five years. These things, combined with no treadmill, mean that the fat-girl within is lurking just around the corner!! I am so not pleased. I quit the detox because it was just hurting my stomach more than anything else. There was no burst of energy that people claimed to find, my skin didn't look any better and I was sleeping kind of weird with bizarre dreams. Well, that last part could be due to anything but in my current frame of mind, I'm blaming the detox.
I'm depressed. Really depressed. I told my husband what was going on and after his third "I don't want this to ruin your day" comment, I effectively (but nicely) told him that I was in no mood to make HIM feel better by lying to him. My day is ruined. I am disappointed in myself. I am disappointed in our circumstances that I can't have the things that I apparently need to be healthy and his incessant need for me to tell him that all is okay was just getting on my nerves!
Don't get me wrong, I take responsibility for this failure. I didn't start another workout routine as I had planned - I do it sporadically. I haven't continued with eating as I had on the Disney diet - I've had cake, ice cream and whatnot when I was exposed to it. I even started drinking coca-cola again occasionally (although I've been off of it for over a week now). I found ways to buy scrapbook supplies and go out with friends but couldn't find a low-cost doctor to do my blood work. I don't even know if such a thing exists!! But I kind of blame Rob - who took his treadmill back when he won't use it! Stupid bachelor, with all kinds of free time on his hands - he's been out of work for a year and a half - and he still won't find time to use the treadmill!! Granted, it is his, his time is his own, and he was gracious enough to lend it to me for almost five months when the original deal was for only two months, but oh, how I wish I had one of my own.
So if you see me around town eating things that I should not, feel free to smack it right out of my hands and remind me that although there is no date set yet, my dad could be here at any time after the new year. That threat alone should be enough to make me lose my appetite!
Again, I am the first to admit that I am certainly no math whiz, but even I can grasp the concept that to have 'some' or something means more than having 'none'. Why is it so hard for others to get that?
Okay, the economy is slow. We get it. My husband is a painter. Somewhat self employed. He has the opportunity to do some small jobs. They are one-day types of things. He has nothing else on his "to do" list work-wise, so I'm thinking, hey, thank God for these little jobs. But for some reason, he is hesitant to do them. "What if something bigger comes along?" Well, okay, but what if NOTHING comes along! Do the darn little jobs because right now there is a $0.00 paycheck coming in when there could at least by something with a REAL number coming in. This has been an on-going argument for years and it still blows my mind.
My eight year old grasps this concept in a bit weird of a way. He likes to go out and play. If we have someplace to go in say, 30 minutes, he will utilize that 30 minutes to the fullest. He will go out, run around until he is breathless and then jump in the car (sometimes on the first call!) and be ready to go. The teenager, well, I don't think he grasps a whole lot in this department and if he does, he's going to twist it around so that I have no idea what we're even talking about anymore.
Why can't they all just think like me and make my life easier?
So it's day three of my detox. I am glad to say that I found a more palatable way to drink this vile stuff. I mix it with apple juice instead of water. It's really quite good. The taste of the apple juice actually covers the hideousness that is the detox. So what took me two hours to drink, now only takes 20 minutes. Quite the difference.
How am I feeling, many of you have asked? Well...I had visions of sharing this experience with all of you and have it be filled with things like "I feel awesome!" or "I have so much energy!" but the reality is that if I were to share it all with you, I'd be talking about poo. A lot of poo. Lots and lots of poo. Let's just leave it at...my colon is most definitely getting a good cleansing and say no more.
Actually, I do feel pretty good. My tummy feels flatter. I'm not eating anything weird. I'm quite literally doing the things that I did on my Disney diet so I don't feel like I'm being deprived of anything. I should probably be eating a bit more fruits and vegetables but again, poo. Tomorrow we're going out to dinner with some friends. To a restaurant. I'm not really looking forward to it because A.) I will have to watch what I am eating - but then again, that's not a bad thing,
B.) I may have to excuse myself with a bit more frequency than usual and finally C.) No dessert. Part of the thrill of going out to dinner is getting to have some dessert. But NO! I decide to detox now. My timing always did stink.
So in the grand scheme of things, this detox is not a total waste of my time. I'm not seeing or feeling anything miraculous but I guess as long as it's doing what it is supposed to to my insides, then it's worth it. If it doesn't and I'm just drinking this icky stuff for no good reason, well then...
poo.
We finally took the teenager off of his punishment this week where he was not allowed to go out during the week. This priviledge was originally taken away because the boy totally abused his curfew times. If we said be home at 9:00, he'd call and have some excuse why he could not get there in time and would be home at 9:30, but then something else would come up and he'd actually be home at 10:00. It happened EVERY TIME he left the house. Then there was the whole getting from here to there fiasco's. He'd tell me that he had transportation taken care of and then things would change and he would expect ME to drop everything to drive him - and would have the nerve to get indignant when I could not!
So anyway, after almost two months, the punishment was lifted. He met some goals that we had asked of him and proved that he did, indeed, have a brain and so he was rewarded. On the FIRST NIGHT that we let the boy out we had a problem. He was told - in no uncertain terms - that he was to be home at 10:00. If he came home at 10:05, he would be back on punishment. So at 9:55 that night, I am watching the clock but not wanting to automatically think the worst. Well, 10:00 rolled around, then 10:05, 10:10 and finally at around 10:15 he comes strolling in the door.
"It's not my fault!" he says. Aren't those the first words usually spoken by someone who is guilty? I mean, seriously. It turns out that his friend was driving him home and they got pulled over by the cops for having no rear break lights or something. What are the odds of this happening on his first night out in two months? No on has that bad of luck! So when I am about to point this out, he says "I have pictures!" he took pictures on his cell phone to prove the point.
I would so make a good lawyer because all I am thinking is A.) That cell phone picture doesn't have the time on it so that I can know EXACTLY when that picture was taken and B.) who's to say that this cop was pulling THEM over and they just didn't get a shot of someone else getting pulled over and C.) maybe if they had left where they were ON TIME they would not have gotten pulled over at all! I've created all kinds of reasonable doubt but for who's benefit? I don't even know! All I do know is that this boy has made me so crazy in the last year that I have no idea if I am trying to defend his stupidity and bad luck or convict him so that I can punish him again!!
Man, do I need some clarity in my brain! Technically he broke curfew but it wasn't really his fault as far as we can tell. So, we did not punish him again. But boy-oh-boy am I watching him!
So I'm trying something new this week. I am doing a 7-day detox. Seriously. I got this little "system" from my Arbonne party last week and decided to start it today. Man do people like to freak you out when you tell them that you doing such a thing. I've had tons of helpful comments like "Don't come around me!" or "Hope you enjoy being chained to the toilet!" or my personal favorite "Have you sh_t yourself yet?"
To my loyal friends and family, I say SHUT IT! You are so NOT helping!
I don't know why trying this product was such a big thing for me, but from the first time that I saw it, I wanted to check it out. Maybe it's because my grandma is dying from what started as colon cancer and I want to clean things out. Maybe it's because I've seen one too many 'infomercials' on all of the junk clogging up our organs or maybe, just maybe, I'm looking to feel a little bit better. I'm not sure. All I know is that today is my first day and I was kind of excited about it. I figured that I would do the drink and eat following the plan that I used on my Disney Diet. So I got up this morning, did my little workout and then went about my morning routine and then stopped to make this 32 oz. drink. I even have a pretty new 32 oz water bottle to go with it. Starting something new is so much better when you have new accessories to go with it. So the plan is that you take this little one ounce bottle of the "detox" and pour it in to the water bottle with the 32 oz of water, shake and drink. The problem?
This stuff is what evil must taste like.
Seriously.
I mean, if you are going to put a product out there that requires you to use it for seven freakin days, could you it at least make it taste pleasant??? Is that too much to ask? Apparently so. Oh, and not only does it smell nasty, did I mention that it is brown and thick? When my 8 year old was born, he had a whole protein allergy. After being hospitalized and almost dying he was diagnosed and was put on an amino-acid based formula. It smelt awful and changing his diaper was beyond what should be expected of any human being. Motherly love was seriously put to the test. I used to have to take his diapers to be analyzed right after we started this formula and I actually heard a lab technician SCREAM after opening one of his diapers. This morning was like a war-zone "flashback" to that era.
I was not feeling overly excited anymore. I mixed it up and took it with me to work - figuring I'd get up the nerve to drink it there. After all, how long could it take to drink 32 oz of liquid? Two hours. Two long hours. I could only take 12 gulps at a time and then I'd have to stop, take a couple of deep breaths and then chew a piece of gum or suck on a Certs. I should have my head examined for doing this kind of thing. Tomorrow I'm going to try putting it in apple juice which was option number 2.
So I made it through the first day with no major 'incidents'. I peed a LOT but that is only because after downing that first 32 oz batch, you have to drink another 32 oz of water throughout the day. Technically, that is the amount of water we should ALL be drinking but don't. I will tell you what, if I make it through the entire 7 days of this, I will never complain about just drinking "plain" water again.
Ever!
There are dark forces at work here. All directed at me. Seriously. I wouldn't lie to you. Ever since I stated a couple of weeks ago that I was going to have to get back to some serious dieting to be ready for when my dad comes to visit, it's all gone down hill. Why? Because people like me. Sounds stupid, I know. How can people liking me be bad? Why do I put that under 'dark forces'?
They bring me food.
Lots of food.
Food that I love.
Always on the day that I wake up and declare "Today I will start my diet!" and then BAM! A slab of homemade chocolate pound cake with a chocolate glaze is brought in especially for me. Right, like I'm going to turn that down! Or pumpkin shaped donuts for Halloween (in all fairness, I did share that one with my son). Or the New York hot dogs with the special onions that you can only TRULY get from a street cart vendor in Manhattan. Again, not gonna turn that down. There was the slab of chocolate cake that came in this morning...I mean, it just keeps coming.
Now don't get me wrong, I LOVE these people for their willingness to share with me. They know my love of food and I think it's great that they consider me worthy of sharing but know this - I HAVE NO WILLPOWER!!! None! Nada! Zilch! Zippo! If there is food to be had, hungry or not, if it's something that I enjoy and smells good, I am going to eat it. This is something my sister and I were sharing the other night - we are foodies. If there is food, we will eat it. Years ago when she owned her first deli and I worked for her, we ate like fiends. Breakfast sandwiches were our specialty. It was like "Okay, we've got 2 eggs over-easy, 4 slices of crispy bacon, some cheese, some homefries..." Sure we'd split it but each side was around 4,000 calories!!! But even saying it now, I still feel no shame and would eat that again in a minute!
I'm not right.
You know, I often gripe about how nobody (and by nobody, I'm usually referring to my family) is ever honest with me. We are rather superficial with one another. My dad and I have funny conversations, we're sarcastic with one another but we rarely are truly HONEST with one another.
When my sister started dating her boyfriend a little over a year ago, we stopped talking honestly with one another. I did not approve of the relationship, she knew it and so we did everything humanly possible to talk without really TALKING about what was going on in her life. I missed our conversations. I missed not knowing what was really going on with her and by the same token, I held a lot back about things going on in my life too. As time went on, I just came to accept that this was the way things were going to be, I missed my sister but at the same time, I was unwilling to rock the boat.
Well, yesterday was like "Truth Day" around here. I'm telling you, it was wild. I called dad because I got his wedding photo CD in the mail and he had been insisting that he mailed it out over a week ago. So I wanted him to know that it had arrived safe and sound and that all was well. Apparently, he was in a chatty mood. He's been much more pleasant since getting married. Well, his second wife seems to definitely be going on Hospice care and so he wanted to update me on what was going on there. The funny thing is, in seven years he has never once honestly told me how she happened to get in the condition that she is in. I mean, he TOLD me that she had the brain hemorrhage but he would say things like "Oh, she must have had this all of her life" rather than saying that she was using massive amounts of drugs at the time that it happened. Well, last night he just about admitted it to me! I was blown away. I didn't know what to do with the information. I didn't want to gush about his opening up or complain to him about why am I JUST NOW finding out this information, but I am hopeful that he will continue to see that we can have that kind of relationship. I'm not fragile. I can handle the truth. By the end of the conversation, I was feeling pretty good.
Then, late last night I called my sister. She had called earlier in the night while I was at a Pampered Chef party and told Frank that I could call when I got home. Huh, that hadn't happened in a while so I decided to jump on the bandwagon and make the call. Well, OMG...I am so glad that I called! THIS was the kind of conversations that I was missing! THIS was the kind of bond that was lacking for so long! We talked and laughed and she shared with me some of the struggles she's been having with the boyfriend and in her life. We talked for over an hour and I was just ....well...I was so glad that she finally wanted to share something with me! We're never going to agree on much - we are far too different - but when it is just the two of us, we get along great.
So, here's to honesty and to family. I regret all of the times that the two were not able to meet. They make me crazy. I'll probably blog about something stupid that they do to irritate me in the near future, but for right now, I am smiling from ear to ear that we finally are connecting again.
What a week! I'm telling you, sometimes there are just times when I want to just pack it all up and move to another country - hopefully with the aid of the witness protection program so that I cannot be found by anyone who might possibly know me!
I was sick all week, as you know, but that does not stop the insanity that goes on around me. Here is the rundown of my week:
1. Grandma is still alive and with us (Praise God!) but each day has been an emotional roller coaster. One day she is doing great, the next day, not so much. I wrote her this extremely heart-felt letter as my good-bye because I could not do it face to face. So I sat down last Sunday and poured my heart out. I felt like it was something that I had to do - I woke up out of a dead sleep because I felt it was something that I had to do and so I wrote it up and e-mailed it to my mom to give to grandma because I didn't want any delay in getting it there and guess what? She hasn't given it to her yet! Um...hello? Heartfelt emotions, here! She claims that since Grandma has had some good days that maybe such an emotional "good-bye" letter might not be helpful. So I have to wait it out..
2. I took the boys to the movies yesterday to see Madagascar 2. Very funny, by the way. Well, while we were watching the previews, my phone rang. I know, I know, BAD movie patron, I forgot to turn off my phone. It was my dad and so I answered it and exited the movie theater. Seven years ago, his second wife (my step-mom) had a massive brain hemorrhage. She was only in her late forties and in seemingly good health. It did not kill her but it left her 80% paralyzed with a feeding tube and in a nursing home where she will live out the rest of her life. It was such a horrible thing and it breaks my heart every time I think about it, but they were MASSIVE "partiers" if you get my drift. What happened to her became my PSA for why we don't do drugs to my teenager. So dad called yesterday, crying, to tell me that Hospice has been called in because her health is deteriorating. Dad only cries to me. He doesn't cry to my sister, only to me. That is something that I have a very hard time with. I never understood the whole "Sensitive Guy" appeal. Crying men bother me. Sorry, that's just the way it is. I mean, I don't get ugly about it, I let him cry but it's hard for me to be the strong one to someone who was always the strong one to me. The role-reversal takes me by surprise every time. I explained to him that Hospice coming in is a good thing because this is not the way she would want to live out her life. We should see this as a blessing. It was an emotionally draining call. A few hours later he was much better, no sign of Mr. Emotional. Weird.
3. My teenager has sucked the life out of me every chance he had this week and from every angle. He apparently wanted to put in annoyance-over-time for some reason. I had to have two conferences with two different teachers of his this week - he only has three of them and one of them is me! He's not doing his work and when it is done, it's not done properly. So we've had to buckle down on the school work, the homework, the homework method and such. We've had to add more chores to fill all of his "free time" - something that is killing him but highly benefiting me. Floor scrubbing and trim cleaning will be on this weeks "to do" list. My house should sparkle just in time for the holidays. Yesterday, he angered me so much (and just when I was getting my voice back!) that I had to take the computer away from him too! C'mon, buddy, cut mom a break here! Isn't there someone else you can annoy for just a week? Or maybe, just maybe, try just being, oh, I don't know, GOOD for a week? Work with me here!
4. We won't even get in to the whole election thing! Well, maybe just a little. I mean, I was disappointed, sure, but I'm moving on. I think others need to do the same. Prayer is a good thing to focus on, not doom, gloom and destruction.
5. During all of this, I've been PMSing. I've had a bad head cold that left me with no voice and too many Nyquil hangovers and has now moved down in to my chest. I am so not amused!
Luckily I have the weekend off. I plan to sit around, not do too much and enjoy some alone time. My husband will go off and play with the band today, the teenager will work today and go and hang out with his girlfriend all day tomorrow. The eight-year-old will most likely be around through it all because it is a rainy day out right now, but that's okay. He's on a Star Wars kick right now and if I got really desperate, I've got all six "episodes/movies" that I can pop in and let him just zone for a while. Hey, I'm not looking for a mother of the year trophy right now, just a little sanity.
I can achieve that in a weekend, right?
I do not take to being sick well. Does that sound right? I am a horrible patient and in general, I am not nice to be around. I have had a cold for several days now. I've gone to work, I've cooked, I've cleaned, all I asked for in return was some soup the other night and the response I got was not favorable and so I was a little bitter about it. Hey, vanilla ice cream for dinner was just fine.
So I have no voice today. My throat isn't as sore as it's been but it's kind of hard to use my customer service skills at work and answer the phone without a voice! It's been kind of comical around here. This morning before I left the house, my husband kept asking me to repeat myself and he finally said "Wow, your voice sounds worse this morning" so I'm like "Then stop asking me to repeat myself!" Common sense, people. You gotta have the common sense.
Okay so I'm feeling all sad, and ill and pitiful and then I was reading some of the other blogs that I follow and I feel even WORSE because I am such a darn baby! Oh, my throat hurts...big deal. I have a friend who is blogging about how she recently lost her husband, twin grand babies and just this last weekend, her step-son. How dare I be sitting here having a pity-party over not getting some Chinese take-out soup when there are people out there with REAL issues. I cannot even begin to describe how I loathe myself right now.
I'm just going to sit back, shut up, suck on some Hall's cough drops and be a big girl and for those of you who had to sit here and listen to my whine, I apologize. The wambulance will not be making any stops here today!
I just got home from voting. I am a first time voter. Honestly. I've been registered for years but never exercised my right to vote. Call it lack of interest or just lack of belief that my vote actually mattered - whichever, I just never did it.
This year my friend Michelle (the Beeg) and my friend Cathleen (the smokin hottie math teacher) really got me in to what was going on. We would have these great discussions about the debates and the candidates and I found myself feeling a little out of my league. I mean, if ever you want to feel like a moron, hang out with people who follow politics when you don't. I can guarantee you, it won't take long before you realize that you are in WAY over your head. This was actually a good thing for me because it made me take a look at what was up with our country and the world around me. Don't get me wrong, I am not a complete idiot - I do watch the news and read the newspaper, but it was a very superficial interest. This campaign really grabbed my attention.
So off I went to day, full on anticipation at the prospect of casting my first ever vote in a presidential election. I drove to my polling place - the parking lot was near empty. I walked in to the building - it was eerily quiet. Where were the lines? Where was the chaos? Where were the fanatics getting in their last ditch effort to sway my vote? All in all it was very anti-climatic. I went in to the gymnasium and there were no lines, they found my name without any issues, I walked over to a booth and used my little black pen, when I was done I walked over to the little scanner and fed by ballot in. I was number 518.
Now I'm home. I am unsure what it is I'm supposed to do now. Michelle is trying to host an election night party but it is looking like a party for one right now. I'm tired, I'm sick, it's raining. It's going to be a long night of TV and I know that I will not be awake for any results so no matter what I do tonight, I won't know the outcome until I turn on GMA in the morning. I know that like many of my friends, we are praying for the right outcome. That would make all this daggone learning so totally worth it!
So I was still riding the high of my nerd music yesterday. When I left work at five and got in to my car, do you know what was on the radio? The top five songs from November 3, 1974!!! I couldn't believe it! What were the odds of that coming on after I wrote my blog? Too funny.
And as a follow up to the post about going to the rally...all I can say is SNOOZE FEST! Not the rally but my writing about it. My excuse? I have a cold. I mean, I really don't even remember writing it and posting it I was so hepped up on the cold medicine so I apologize for the lazy writing style. That is so not me and I apologize for writing under the influence.
Of course, I can't guarantee that it won't happen again - this cold just won't go away!
I love to listen to music. I crave it, need to have it playing in the car, in my house whenever I can. I consider myself to be fairly 'hip' (and I think that my using the word hip, I just realized that I am not). As an 80's girl I did the big hair thing, I rocked to the likes of Bon Jovi, Whitesnake & Def Leppard and yet...there's a little music nerd inside of me that comes out from time to time.
Were you ever just listening to the radio, flipping through the stations and a song comes on that you feel you are really too cool to be listening to and yet can't help yourself? I'm telling you, nothing puts a smile on my face faster than hearing an old song that I so should NOT know the lyrics to and yet I find myself singing along to as if it were in the top ten now. This morning on the way to work such a song came on. It was something about "Seems it never rains in Southern California..." I sang my little heart out and then had to clasp a hand over my mouth in shame! What was I doing? Why was I singing? How in the world do I even REMEMBER the words to this song? Quick, someone tease up my hair and break out some "Living on a Prayer" STAT!
So that got me thinking, how often do I do this? How big of a nerd am I? Apparently a pretty big one. I have a Sonny & Cher song on my MP3 player for crying out loud! I randomly listen to the theme song to the Partridge Family! In my car! With the kids in it! And sing! This is so weird! Okay, people, fess up, if "Billy Don't be a Hero" came on the radio, could you still sing along?
I had a new experience yesterday. I went to a political rally. Yes, little ol' me who is so NOT in to politics, went to a Sarah Palin rally. I really, really like her. I enjoy listening to her because for a politician, I can understand what she is saying. And please, I am not opening up the floodgates here for a political debate. Everyone has the right to who they want to support and I am not using this space to argue that point, I'm merely talking about the fun that I had with my friends.
So we arrived at the fairground several hours early and had a great spot in line - under the over-hang, very shaded. We laughed, we snacked and in general were just jazzed to be there. It took three hours before we were let in to the building and then we waited another three hours before things really got started. All in all it was a long day. But the cool thing was because we had such great spots in line outside, we got a great spot inside. Granted, there were no chairs and it was cooler outside than it was inside but you still could enjoy all of the excitement in the room without wanting to peel your own skin off.
Sarah Palin came out around 7:20 and man! She is just as I expected. I mean, she is just a regular person. I can't listen to any politician for 30 minutes without my mind going numb, but I was hearing everything that she had to say and was bummed when it was over! The "First Dude" was with her and although we had all hoped that her kids would come out - particularly little Piper - they were not with her. After her speech, she came down in to the crowd and shook hands and gave autographs and my friend Cathleen even got one! I know she and her husband were, well, to say psyched would be an understatement. They are huge fans and I was so happy for them that they not only got to see her in person, but got to leave there with an autograph. How cool for them.
As for me, I got some great pictures. I was scrapbooking in my mind. The only down side to the whole day was that I came to the realization that I truly am short. Seriously. Not just a little short, but really, really short. I felt like a toddler in a room full of adults. Some guy behind me took pity on my and would occassionally take pictures for me so that I would have some at a normal angle! How sad is that? I would just stand there with my little arms up over my head snapping away and just hoping that I was actually getting PEOPLE in the frame! I deleted a LOT of pictures on the way home that were of just nothing. So to all of the tall people who helped me out yesterday - thanks.
And to my friends who helped me get interested in what is going on in the world and invited me to join them to go and see the real Sarah Palin and not just watch Tina Fey imitate her (which no matter who you are, it's still just funny!), I thank you.
