The Gift

This post might seem kind of depressing but I really don't intend it to be that way at all. I am posting this because it's really on my mind right now and I just felt like putting it out there in case someone else is as pig headed and dense as I once was many years ago. If you see yourself in this, maybe you should try to look at things on a deeper level and see the bigger picture.

Years ago, toward the end of my Mothers life, we spent one of our last Christmases together. I don't remember if this was the last one but it was toward the end. My Mother was getting to a point where she didn't feel comfortable driving longer distances anymore so she did everything she needed to do in her very small town in the Adirondack mountains in upstate New York. That year she bought me a present, a shirt at a local store. I hated that shirt and I felt terrible that she spent her limited income on it. I thought I'd be slick and turn it into me being considerate. I told her that I felt bad that she spent her money on me when I didn't want or need anything. She was on a fixed income. Now I really did not like the shirt, it was also too big and I honestly did feel bad that she spent money on me when all I wanted was to see her.

Off we went to that store and we returned it. I should say I returned it while she stood there feeling pretty shitty that the one thing she managed to do wasn't enough for her ungrateful daughter. I assured her I didn't need a gift and I wasn't upset. Then as we walked out of the store I noticed that even though she was smiling, her eyes were watery and she was about to cry. We got into her car on that cold blustery day and I asked her what was wrong. She said to me that she felt bad that she wasn't able to do things for me and that she was sorry I didn't like my gift. We both cried. I was speechless and I apologized. She didn't make a fuss, she really tried to keep it together but she just couldn't. My Mother rarely showed sadness so I knew it was big for her.

To say I felt bad is an understatement. To this day I still recall every painful detail of that incident and I can't believe what a thick headed insensitive idiot I was. My lack of maturity and insight was distressing. I also remember her saying "I just wanted to be able to do something nice for you, I'm sorry". So you see, that was really what that was about. It wasn't about a stupid shirt I hated, it wasn't about money, it was about love. Why on earth I was unable to see it then is really beyond me but now, all these years later it popped into my head and haunted me all day to the point of me coming home and crying till I became sick over it. A good friend called me in the midst of my meltdown and verbally bitch slapped me into snapping out of it and ceasing my pointless mental self mutilation in all of this. What's done is done. The important part to me is the lesson I learned from that and it is one I tell my patients everyday when they ask me why they suffer with their illnesses and limitations.....you see it can really be applied to a lot of situations....

Sometimes, we need to learn how to accept, how to let someone else give. If you've always done for others maybe learning how to receive is a lesson you will need to work on. The item or act the person is performing isn't the important thing. It's letting someone else feel needed or useful or special or appreciated, letting them do something for another human being. When you let someone give you are basically giving them an intangible gift yourself. If I had realized that years ago I wouldn't be sitting here boo hooing over something that happened so long ago. The boo hooing is pointless but the lesson has been priceless for me. Since that day, there have been times when I've been in similar situations and the thought of rejecting a kind act no matter what it is never ever crosses my mind. I've had people (my elderly patients )in absolutely filthy apartments make me tea as a kind gesture and I just pray to God the hot water is enough to boil whatever germs away that I'm ingesting because I always remember how important it was for someone who rarely felt useful to others (my Mom) to feel useful once and a while.

So here I am many years later alone and wishing that I had that ugly shirt to open all over again. I'd wear it proudly and never even consider getting rid of it or thinking of it as just a shirt. Since that is not possible I'm just going to be grateful for the lesson I learned from that experience and how it affects my way of dealing with others on a daily basis. I think if my Mom was here she'd be quite happy with the ways things turned out after all :)

October 5th, a day that will live in infamy...........

..........as the day I had the horrible realization that my neck is not what it used to be. Yeah, I know. What a vapid thing to post here after being absent for months but it's true. It's been bothering me quite a bit lately and I can't hold it in anymore. Why don't people talk about this more? Am I the only person who is completely flipped out by getting a bag of sagging skin under my jaw/chin in a matter of a few years?

There I was walking down the street at about 7:23 pm. I remember it because I was on the phone talking and I looked at the clock. I was on my way to Rite Aid to get some lotion or something, I don't even remember. I was wearing a scarf for a sort of fashion statement type of thing because the weather has FINALLY cooled down. I caught my reflection in a window and I thought, OMFG....I look about 10 years younger with this scarf hiding my old lady neck! How long will this trend toward scarves go on for? How long can I ride this one before it becomes obvious that it's not really about the scarf for me, it's about camo-ing my aging neck?

To be honest, I look pretty damned good for my age and no, I'm not some delusional nutbag in denial thinking I look 20.I know I look pretty good due to constant shock at my age when I tell it and years of clean living. No smoking, no caffeine, no sun, no drugs and taking very good care of my skin since I was 13 and my mother took me to Macy's to get some fancy skincare for fun.

Anyhoo, I am in my mid 40's now and this past summer I really began to become aware of my damned neck. One night I was at a friends and we were laying on her couch talking. She is my age too and she was at a weird angle and we both noticed that her neck looked horrifically old. We both screamed and then brushed it off at the way she was laying. A few weeks later, I was applying makeup and leaning into the mirror and I noticed the same thing with my neck! Needless to say, I ran screaming away from the mirror and blocked it out of my memory. Fast forward to a few weeks ago, I had my picture taken with a younger friend. She looked radiant. I looked like a CUTE OLD LADY! My fucking neck gave me away once again! It's not only the neck, my face is more angular and thinner. The youthful glow is GONE. I used to have to cover up my red cheeks, they were practically flaming red. I bought all sorts of cosmetics to neutralize my red face. Now? I buy blush by the truckload! Without it, I look like a sick Nicole Kidman. Just really really pale and sickly and my red hair makes me look even paler.

So that night, as I realized that my neck is ruining my life as I knew it, I came home and immediately went to makeupalley.com and began to peruse the product reviews for recommended neck creams. Oh yes I did. I hate to admit it but it has finally come to this, I am a vain bitch who is freaking out at my saggy neck. I called my friend and told her my feelings on this and she laughed hysterically but she totally agreed with my feelings on all of this. As a matter of fact, she agreed to split a jar of neck cream with me in solidarity.

See, I know I'm not a spring chicken. I know lines and wrinkles are inevitable. I never look at my face and feel upset at what I see. It's not the face of a girl, it's the face of a woman who has lived her life and had a lot of experiences good and bad. It's a face that my dear sweet Mother gave me and now that she is long gone I find immense comfort in the bits of her that are emerging in this face as I age. But my neck? My neck is something else entirely. There is just no reason for this travesty. Again, I honestly don't mind wrinkles but this neck thing is just more upsetting than I can tell you.


Just wait, when it happens to you, you'll know how freaky it is. Until then, remember this friendly little warning and wear as many V necks as possible, work as many beautiful choker style necklaces as you can...just flaunt that tight little neck for all it's worth. I never thought I would be a "scarf lady" but now, I gravitate toward the wracks of them in every store I walk into. It's my new thing.


Just sayin' :)

Living Legend

Talk about weirdness. I was just talking about entertainment from days gone in my last posting, and I happened to meet a lady who is a living treasure yesterday! I was with a patient doing a home care visit and her next door neighbor Mable was sitting with her in her living room. I introduced myself to her and she was so charming and beautiful that I was completely taken by her immediately. She told me that she had just returned from Sweden from "performing". I never imagined that she was such a seriously known entertainer. She told me to look her up so I did and here she is! She will be 89 soon and she is still absolutely stunning. She still sings and dances and performs and she is a real lady of the first order.

Mable also gave me some fantastic advice on life and love and we are both excited about meeting up again to chat tomorrow. She thought I was in my 20's and I tell her she's gorgeous so we sort of have a mutual admiration for each other. Take a look her her and enjoy. She is every bit as beautiful now all these years later and she can still dance and sing better than people half her age!

Days gone by

I stumbled onto this today and I became so completely mesmerized by it that I had to share it with you. As a young girl I used to watch movies from the 1920's through the 40's with intense fascination. The clothes, the speech patterns, the music and the sophistication compared to what goes on today always amazed me. I was raised by a woman born in 1924 so I sort of always had a bit of this flavor in my upbringing. My Mom was a modest lady and she taught me to be one too. I am by no means a prude but you will never see me walking around in really revealing clothing. I wouldn't say I'm at all "Amish" about it, but I find something about letting yourself leave nothing to the imagination kind of sad and lacking in self respect and dignity. Even when I am in a relationship with a man I will only reveal enough of myself initially to whet his appetite, make him want more, you know?? If you do more than that you are really selling yourself short and why would you even think of doing that?

I am really tickled at how women's feet and legs were such a source of scandal at the time of the films shown. I guess 10 to 15 years prior women weren't even daring to show their ankles. I love how these women really know how to take off their shoes in the most entertaining and seductive way. Now, it's nothing but then it was a really forbidden thing. There is a scene that involves hair twirling too. It's funny, to me things were so much more interesting to watch and so aesthetically unique and beautiful. I find this piece charming and sad at the same time and even a bit spooky. Many films like these have disappeared due to the film they were made on degrading so I consider this a treasure. Here's to yesterday!

Deep thoughts :)

Of course the title to this entry is sarcasm, I hope you know that. I'm not a self proclaimed sage. I know it's been a while, I've just had nothing that you'd probably want to hear to say. And I'm still in the same "nothing to say" state but I felt like writing a bit on this scorchingly hot Sunday.

It is disgusting out, we're talking 105 degrees and 100% humidity, true story. I am not exaggerating. I am constantly cranky as any normal person would be if they were constantly sweating and struggling to breathe. Who on earth enjoys this? If you do you are a sick bastard who is going to end up in hell. The weather there is perfect for you. Last week there was one day where I was walking around in this while working and I became confused, crampy and dizzy. I was definitely drinking enough and trying to not exert myself but it was just brutal out there. My co-worker came to get me and basically did my job for me while I sat down and drank more water and rested. I ended up coming home and just laying down till the next AM. But enough of this.....suffice to say, it is hell on earth here right now and I am sitting in an air conditioned room with no intention to leave it till I have to tomorrow.

This brings me to what I feel like talking about today. I'm gonna warn ya,. It's not a laugh riot but I have just been feeling introspective lately. Next Saturday, July 31, will be the 15th anniversary of my mom's death. This time of year is always very difficult for me. Even if I do not feel outwardly weird about it, the universe has strange ways of reminding me of the yearly cycle that all of this rotates on.

Fifteen years is a long time really. You would think that by now I would be past certain things. But I'm not. And I realize that I never will be. And for the first time this year, I am accepting of it and OK with it, even the bad parts of it. Something jarring happened last week and I'll tell you what. I was in the shower after a hot day . There I was just enjoying the cool water and trying to relax my mind when BANG. I had my eyes closed and was washing the back of my neck when I saw a horrible vision of my Mom dying on my shoulder. It was as if I was back at that time again and it was literally happening for real. It was so vivid. My reality is....my Mom actually did die on my shoulder as I drove her to her Dr appt. So in this vision I was in the car, the AC was blasting just as it really was that day and there was my Mom on my shoulder and I was in shock and screaming. My shower vision was very brief, but it was so intense it nearly knocked me over. I became short of breath, I gasped, I burst out crying and doubled over in pain from the shock of that quaint little home movie that came out of the recesses of my brain to kick me in the gut.

I got out of the shower and curled into a ball in my bed and just let it all out of my system. I figured that it was natures fucked up way of reminding me that July 31 was around the corner. As I recovered from that, I got a phone call and to be honest, I really did not want to talk about it. The person I was speaking to knew something was wrong with me and probed till I admitted what had happened. Much to my surprise, he was able to show me a different perspective and it has stuck with me since that discussion. He remarked that he believed that sometimes when things like that happen, it is that persons way of trying to touch you on the shoulder and remind you that they are still thinking of you and love you. While it is upsetting and jarring, it is sometimes the only way they can establish contact with us. He also stated that for him, he has similar things happen now and then but only when he is in the shower. This made me think and I realized that yes, a lot of the time when I have these upsetting thoughts I'm in the shower. He commented that he sometimes thinks that water is a passageway or a vehicle for the other side to get through to us. Is this true? No. Yes. Maybe? Who knows, but it really made me think about this in a very different way and I am going to hold on to this perspective and consider it.

Yesterday, I received a perfume sample in the mail from my BFF. It was a very rare perfume that was my Mothers favorite. My friend sent it to me as a comforting gesture, as a way of letting me have that little part of my mom to enjoy again. This warmed my heart so and made me feel blessed to have someone so sensitive and caring in my life. The minute I uncorked that perfume vial I was transported back to 1972 and the house where I was raised. There I was in that little spot where I would perch myself and study her as she got ready to go out for the evening. I would sit and watch my Mother in fascination as she fixed her hair, applied her eyeliner, brow pencil, and liquid makeup. I can even still see the actual products she used if I concentrate hard enough. I remember the way she would put on a pretty lipstick to brighten her face and then a few spritzes of that perfume to finish. And then she was off. It's funny how a scent can transport you like that isn't it? But for me, it did. For a few minutes, I was seven again and my Mom was the most glamorous, beautiful smelling woman on earth.

So today I am sitting here smelling that perfume vial, feeling blessed that I had such a mother and that I have such people now who recognize that part of my past and who I am.

An interesting addendum to recent events is one of the most touching and encouraging emails I have ever received. My Dr is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. He is knowledgeable, gentle, smart, witty, kind hearted and loving to a fault. He is also creative and a true artist. He asked to see samples of my writing. I felt a bit embarrassed with some of the rambling drivel I go on about, but I tried to dig up some remotely interesting things and sent them to him. He previously had a musical/play off Broadway and is now working on a movie. He read my thoughts and now wants to meet with me to discuss my "talent". Me? Talent? I make a mean brownie but other than that I never felt like I had any notable talents. The most truly amazing part of this were his closing words when he stated "if your father was alive today I am sure he would tell you that he is proud of you, and so am I".

Isn't it funny how if you are really paying attention and put yourself out there in the world the universe brings you such affirming experiences and helps you hear and learn what you need to at the very time you need to?

That's all for now....thanks for listening to this one..I know it wasn't easy! :)

Filthy Rich?

Has it really come to this America? Are we this desperate to protect the little bit we have that we need to "secure" it in fake filthy underwear? I am just stunned at this. It's for sale at Sears of all places. It's called "Brief Safe" the fake dirty underwear home safe. Do Sears shoppers really have the need for a "home safe" and if they do are they really going to look for one at Sears? Couldn't you just make your own version of this? Really?

The copy on the Sears website reads: The "Brief Safe" is an innovative diversion safe that can secure your cash, documents, and other small valuables from inquisitive eyes and thieving hands, both at home and when you're traveling. Items can be hidden right under their noses with these specially-designed briefs which contain a fly-accessed 4" x 10" secret compartment with Velcro closure and "special markings" on the lower rear portion. Leave the "Brief Safe" in plain view in your laundry basket or washing machine at home, or in your suitcase in a hotel room - even the most hardened burglar or most curious snoop will "skid" to a screeching halt as soon as they see them. (Wouldn't you?) Made in USA. One size. Color: white (and brown).

I love the color description. I kind of love everything about this. I'm guessing that the person who invented this may drink heavily. I really like the manufacturers advice to "leave the "Brief Safe" in plain view in your laundry basket or washing machine at home, or in your suitcase in a hotel room". I would love to be a fly on the wall watching people catch a glimpse of this in your home. Can you imagine forgetting you were having company over and leaving that out? I guess it would be an easy way to get someone to dump you if you were in a bad relationship. I would run like hell and never look back if I saw this in a mans bathroom.

As long as we're being frank, I have never understood skid marks. Maybe with a small child but a grown adult? WTF is wrong with you that you can't manage to practice good bathroom hygiene? The thought of it really makes me shudder. It also makes me very sad and makes me want to cry for the person who does it. I said "want" to cry because I think I'd actually be too disgusted to be able to cry, but there is something about a person who is unable to do something so basic that makes me very emotionally upset for them. It makes me wonder if their Mother didn't love them or teach them basics. I know I'm reaching here but yikes.

What's going to be next? Urine stained stockings? Blood covered sheets? A bib drenched in baby vomit with a secret compartment? I just don't even know anymore. This whole thing started when I saw a purse made out of old women's underwear. I'm going to post about that next but this one just floored me.

On a strange note I think if I actually did see underwear like these now I might wonder if they are filled with cash and be slightly curious. Hmmmmm.

That's all for now.

Bleah

OMG, it is so damned hot here. I just don't know what to say. I've been silent for a while but I've just been so cranky and hot. I just want to say what's up and I hope all of you are someplace where it is NOT 110 degrees out. Today I was drenched in sweat and fancy European sunscreen while chugging water furiously (sexy eh?)to avoid passing out whilst I saw all my patients who do not have AC's and refuse to turn on their fans because they are.....COLD!

Oh and :

DEAR CON ED,

YOU HONESTLY WANT ME TO TURN MY AC OFF WHEN IT IS OVER 100 DEGREES? FOR REAL CON ED, FOR REAL? KINDLY STOP ADVISING ME TO DO THIS MANEUVER BECAUSE THE LAST TIME I DID YOU CUT MY DAMNED POWER ANYWAY YOU FILTHY BASTARD. WHAT IN THE WHAT WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU CRAZY? THREE YEARS AGO WE HAD NO POWER FOR THREE WEEKS AND ALL WE GOT WAS A "WHOOPS SORRY" AND $100 FOR SPOILED FOOD. I WAS LIVING LIKE HALF PINT FROM LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE WITH FUCKING CANDLES, PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICHES AND READING INSPIRATIONAL LITERATURE BY FLASHLIGHT AT NIGHT JUST TO GET THROUGH THAT CRISIS. FIX YOUR ISSUES CON ED OR PEOPLE ARE GOING TO GET HARDCORE ON YOUR POWER FAILING ASS THIS TIME. PEACE OUT.

Sorry about the screaming there but I felt that needed to be said. I smell a blackout coming AGAIN. There is one every damned summer. You would think I lived in Haiti or something but no, I'm in NYC. Currently it is dim here right now. I believe this is called a "brown out". Next up, STEAMY HOT DARKNESS AND CRACKERS FOR DINNER. Damn. Can you tell how stressed I am?

I've got a Lady Gaga concert to go to tomorrow (I know, stop laughing at me) and a very important Dr appt early Thursday morning to see what the hell is wrong with my jacked up vascular system. That is what's up here. I hope you aren't pissed that you took 3 precious minutes to read this drivel. I promise to be more substantial next time. Maybe I will do a Gaga review. I know how you're just DYING for that!

Boringly yours, LMF :)

We all scream?

Uh, no, no we don't. These people aren't very good at abbreviations are they? They've managed to do the impossible for me. They've made ice cream unappealing. :(

Daddy's Girl

Today is Fathers day. I had a Daddy till I was 5. He died unexpectedly. He was driving home from work on Good Friday to pick up my Mother and I. We were going to travel upstate to spend the Easter holiday with her sister and family. He never made it home. Heart attack. I do not remember it. I was so little, I only remember seeing him in the coffin and smelling carnations. To this day, carnations and Ave Maria are triggers that make me cry uncontrollably.

Before that day, I was the most loved little girl on earth. I do recall my Mom's issues, even at 5 I knew she had problems but my Dad was another story entirely. Even now, people who knew him tell me how wonderful he was. And my Aunt prefaces stories about him by saying "I'm not just saying this because I feel sorry for you, you're father really was the most special man I ever met". I never know whether to feel really good about this, or horribly cheated. I do remember opening a drawer that I was not supposed to be opening as a child and finding mementos from the funeral, cards, etc, and his personal effects. I used to go through his wallet and see all the pictures he had of me. I was his little princess. It is obvious from looking at that wallet how loved I was. I loved touching his razor and shaving items. It made him seem more real to me.

Even though it was nearly 40 years ago, I can vividly remember sitting on a "flying saucer" (an old skool sled) and him pushing me down a snowbank. It seemed HUGE! In reality in was a pile of snow next to a curb here in NYC. I was so tiny it seemed like a mountain. I felt safe with him and so happy. I can remember my Birthday when I was 3. I remember having a batman doll on the table and a spider man design on the cake. I was so excited. The cake seemed so gigantic too. I also remember going to the candy store with him after church on Sundays and him buying me all sorts of things. I remember sitting on his knee and him hugging me. I remember his big safe hands picking me up. I remember him and my Mother at the sink after dinner, her washing dishes, him drying. I remember being in the car tucked into the back seat while my parents were in the front talking grown up talk that I didn't understand. I remember feeling small. I remember feeling loved. I have not felt that way since. I am so grateful to whatever cells in my brain have enabled me to to retain those memories like I have. They are gifts to me now that both of my parents are long gone. I feel lucky to have had loving parents even if they weren't able to be with me for as long as I would have liked.

Today, I really wonder why that happened. Why was he taken from me and why was I left with an unstable alcoholic mother? She loved me too with all her heart, that was never in question. She doted on me and took good care of me but she was emotionally not there for me for parts of my childhood. Not having siblings made it harder. I always felt so alone. Maybe that's why now, as an adult, being alone is a state I handle very well. I don't understand people who need to constantly be surrounded by others. I love people, I make a living by forming very personal relationships with many people on a daily basis and I also have some wonderful friends, but for me, I need time alone to listen to my inner music. I know that sounds annoyingly new agey and Oprah goofy but I just don't know how else to put it.

For some reason, this Fathers day is making me look back on my life and I am really wondering what the impact of not having a solid man in my life as I was coming up has born in me. The last time I was truly loved unconditionally by a man was when I was 5. Not since then have I had any man just love me for who I am. I've always had to to something to keep that love and sometimes no matter what I've done it doesn't matter. I know unconditional love is an iffy thing and a lot of the time even your parents are not giving of it and it's like that with everyone who isn't your parent really. I know it's like that with everyone who isn't your parent really. You have to do things and be something to your friends too, everyone expects something of you but male/female dynamic is different.

I know it doesn't do any good to wonder but I do wonder how different my life would have been had my father lived longer than he did. What types of relationships would I have had with men that I have not? Could I have trusted easier than I have? Would I have gotten married by now? Had children? Would it be exactly the same? Worse? Better? There is no way to know but I can't help wondering, at least just for today. There is a line from a Dylan Thomas poem that goes "after the first death, there is no other". I guess you could interpret this is a few ways. It could mean that we have eternal life after we die our "first" death, it could mean there is nothing after we die OR.....for me it means after the first major loss in your life, nothing else really comes close to devastating you like the first one did. My Mothers death destroyed me because we were very close and had years together but my Fathers death set the tone for me to be a worrisome person always on the lookout for the next disaster. I was never outwardly negative in that way but my mind would always immediately go to thinking the worst if someone didn't call when they were supposed to or didn't show up when they were supposed to. It taught me that things can change in a minute and the worst can absolutely happen. That was quite a lesson to learn at the age of 5.

As I get older I realize that our parents truly are "in" us. People used to say that to me after my mom died. "She's still with you". It so pissed me off you have no idea. It took me till now to see what they meant. I am her. I am him. My face is morphing into that of my Mothers. I see my Father in there too. I hear my Mothers voice and her expressions come out of my mouth when I least expect it. I do things that I know my Father would have done too. The content of my genes hasn't changed with the loss of those who contributed to them. They continually unfurl like the petals of a tightly closed flower. I truly believe that the flower that is me will be blooming till my very last day. Time will tell.

I wish my parents were here to thank and even though they are far away in another plane of existence now, I do want to thank them for making me who I am. I hope I've made them proud and been worth creating in their eyes. I will endeavor to continue to do so till my last breath.

If your Father is alive, please tell him you love him. Reminisce with him about the special things you remember from long ago and tell him how much his support has shaped you as a human being. You won't always be able to do this, why not do it today? If you have a strained relationship with him at least thank him for giving you life. If nothing else, do that for yourself as an affirmation that you are choosing to make a good life for yourself and be a good person despite any challenges or difficulties you have faced.


Happy Fathers Day Daddy, thank you for being my Father

That's all for now :)

Featured Fragrance Review: Sabon Zohar (Musk)

It's been a long time since I talked about a fragrance but it is a huge passion of mine. I have so many perfumes I rarely buy anything new these days and for me to mention it, it has to be something really special for me. I hate smelling like strong perfume, but I love smelling delectable and making people want to come a little closer.


Musk is something that is really iffy for me. It's either love or extreme hate depending on the musk. I hate strong animalic musk. If it's a really dirty, earthy musk I am reminded of bad B.O. and trying to cover it up. It can smell cheap and overwhelming and make me want to get away from you if it's that type of musk. If it's done right it smells clean, soft and nuzzly. Santa Maria Novella's Muschio Oro is my favorite but it's much more than musk. It's soapy, clean, sweet and soft, just wonderful. People follow me around when I wear it. At first it is sharp and too soapy but when it calms down it is the perfect skin scent. I've had everyone from young women to 80 year old men tell me I smell wonderful when I wear this one.


I was recently strolling by a Sabon store here in NYC and walked in to see what was up. I tried the musk and at first I was completely anosmic to it and could not smell a thing. After about 10 minutes it revealed itself and it was fantastic! If you know the scent Perfect Veil, it is similar to that but much better. I would not know it was a musk if I didn't see it on the label. It seems that these are the types of musks I favor. It is soft, sweet, a tiny bit floral but so soft that you don't really feel like you're wearing perfume. I tried the body oil since they were out of the perfume and it lasted for hours on my skin and seemed to have really decent sillage for a body oil. Unfortunately, the store has been sold out of the musk perfume formulation for a while and they are waiting to get more in so I cannot comment on that. The oil is fantastic and $19 for a large spray bottle. It's totally worth it. If you liked The Body Shops White Musk, Jovan White musk, Perfect Veil...those types of scents, this is much better than all of those. While it is clean, it is not at all soapy and there is absolutely no sharpness at all to it. It is a gentle caressing whisper on your skin, barely noticeable but it's there in a really sexy, come closer way. I cannot recommend it highly enough! Really nice to apply when your skin is damp just out of the shower.


Incidentally, I would love to smell this on a man, it can easily be a unisex fragrance as well.

EDIT: Was able to try the EDP formulation and it was a bit different and had a hairspray vibe and was a bit thicker and sweeter smelling. The final drydown after about an hour was nice but I prefer this scent in the body oil if I have to choose. It's gentler, softer and easier to wear for me.

That's all for now :)

Bouncing baby burrito

This must have been the big daddy of all burritos. I cannot imagine the size of it and how on earth could a person make a mistake like this? Even more of a curiosity, why would a person toss a perfectly good burrito like this?

Well here's something interesting...

To be honest with you, I really am at a loss as to what to say about this article I found online on the Telegraph UK website. Yes, I am actually speechless. I am without speech. People, I work in Harlem in the projects, I thought I'd seen and heard it all and this, this story made me just sit slack jawed and shake my head. Can this guy be for real? Can he? This is a joke right? Here is the link, apparently this guy has "sex" with cars. Yeah you read me correctly, cars. Exactly how does one shag a car? To quote the article "he says that his most intense sexual experience was "making love" to the helicopter from 1980s TV hit Airwolf." EXCUSE ME? How does one do this? Oh, my other favorite quote was "there are moments way out in the middle of nowhere when I see a little car parked and I swear it needs loving. There have been certain cars that attracted me and I would wait until night time, creep up to them and just hug and kiss them. "

THIS DUDE IS CREEPY AS HELL. I love the Herbie t-shirt. I would love to see the BBC documentary about him. I heard he was caught romancing the production van. Just reading about him makes me feel better about myself. I honestly cannot imagine any woman or man for that matter coming near this guy anyway. I really hope for his sake he is just trying to get a reality show out of this and it's not an actual disorder but in the article they refer to this phenomenon as "mechaphilia". OK I'VE HEARD IT ALL. THE END.

Book of the Week

Hey guys! Book recommendation, it will totally change your life! It's from Lorraine Peterson, the author of "If God Loves Me Then Why Can't I Get My Locker Open?" so you know it has to be good! I believe the guy on the cover is a young Jon Tesh or that guy from Dawson's creek. Even blacks and Asians think he's awesome so you know having multicultural friends makes him even more awesome-er! I just read this and it has totally changed my life. As of today, I officially became awesome. True story.

Cloudly with a chance of roaches

Old times

I was having a conversation the other day with someone when I made a comment that made him laugh. I guess I used a seldom used phrase and it came across as charming. I didn't do it on purpose, it was something I say from time to time. To be honest, my mom had me when she was 40 and the age difference was like that between a grandma and her grandchild. Because of this I guess I was exposed to lots of words and phrases that others my age were not. After that moment, we tried to think of some rarely used words that seem to have fallen out of favor and so far, this is what I've come up with...



Divan, Settee or Davenport = a sofa type of couch

Sideboard, buffet = an extra table that you put food on in your dining room

Billfold = wallet

Chest of drawers, bureau = dresser

Cotton Swab = Q-tip

Mimeograph (original can be seen in feaured picture here)= copy machine

Dungarees = jeans

Slacks = pants

Cream rinse = hair conditioner

Permanent (now called a perm) = hmmm, a procedure where your hair is rendered curly. People don't really get these much anymore as far as I know. They would smell awful and you always knew when someone had one because they looked like a puffy, frizzy poodle. They never looked good.

Ice box = refrigerator

Victrola = my aunt still says this for record player, CD player, etc

Oleo = it was a brand of margarine back in the day

Macadam = anything paved

Pocketbook, otherwise pronounced as a Pock-a-book = purse

Underpants, bloomers = panties, underwear (I still say underpants, I loathe panties)

Moving picture show = movie

Drapes = curtains




Just a few expressions:

Down the road a piece = a quaint way of saying something is just down the road

Sweet fancy moses! = not old but my own fave, a phrase used by Jerry and George on the TV show Seinfeld when they are subjected to watching Elaine dance


I look like the wreck of the Hesperus! (my mom's personal signature phrase). A Longfellow poem about a real ship wreck that occurred in 1838, used to describe a person who is in a disheveled state.

Hell in a hand basket. Damned if I know, I love it, use it but I do not know the origins of it.

He really frosts me! A favorite of my elderly aunt, means to anger.



And two bonus gems from my Mother:



I gotta pee so bad I can taste it!

I am so hungry my stomach's touching my backbone!


That's all I could think of for now! :)

Mothers Day Reflections

Sunday was my 14th motherless Mothers Day. It still hurts, but the pain isn't a stabby pain anymore. It's more of an ache, a longing that has become chronic. I don't cry much about it anymore unless something brings it on and makes me want to talk to my Mother and I realize that it is impossible and I have to lay in bed, shut my eyes and have an imaginary conversation with her or pray that she comes to me while I'm sleeping and we have one of our interdimentional visits (yes, I'm nuts, I do get visits from her occasionally, judge if you will) . Lately I have been thinking a lot about my life, what it was, what it has become and trying to make some sense of it. Maybe I'm doing this more because I'm in my 40's, I don't really know. Like most people at this age, I've had some losses and I've managed to move forward. The thing with me is though, I have no family so when something changes it shakes me up more than I care to admit.

My Dad died when I was 5, my mom died when I was 30. I have no siblings, my aunts and uncles are pretty much all deceased as well. I have no husband or kids. It's a bit scary being like this at times. I have friends who I can count on but it's not the same. My mother dying was always my worst fear. I used to cry just thinking of it before it actually happened. Then it did and it was far worse than I ever imagined. It happened on my shoulder in the car as I drove her to a Dr appt. She just slumped over on me and that was that. I raced her to the ER, they revived her and she then died again later that night. I will never forget that moment. I remember a nurse saying to me "pray for what's best for her, not for what's best for you." The Dr told me he was sorry. I was completely numb. I was shaking. My arms and legs felt like jello. I felt like I was melting into a pool, I wanted to melt into a pool. I wanted to be gone. I remember my best friend walking down that long hallway with me and thinking that I was leaving her there and I was never going to see her again. Even now, remembering it, it doesn't seem real. I went home and I got into her bed and I remember screaming and screaming and screaming. I have never ever screamed like that before that day and I have never screamed like that since. I don't think I ever will again. It changed me forever. Something in me died that day too but at the same time, something undefinable was being born .

At that moment, I chose to live. I didn't realize it was a choice at the time but now I see that it was and the funny part is, everything that happened to me up to that point in my life, everything that never made sense while it was happening gave me the skill to deal with that horrible situation. I was raised by a wonderful woman. She taught me more than I could ever begin to tell you about. She also struggled with an addiction to alcohol. I almost feel like I am betraying her by saying it here. Isn't that funny? That all these years later, and you have no idea who I am or who she is and still the shame of that is so deep and the stigma is so ingrained that I feel like I am giving up a dirty secret that I should be keeping still. I mean it's not like I'm going MacKenzie Phillips here and telling you some creepy details about something that is besmirching my Mom's memory. It's not like you know her, or me but still, I feel blabby telling. What the fuck is my point in telling anyway? I don't know, maybe verbal masturbation, a need to just put it down somewhere and get it out? What makes me think you care or want to read such a sullen entry? Maybe you don't. Maybe this will turn you off and you'll never come back again. That's a risk I'm taking in being authentic at the moment I guess. And who's reading this anyway really?

I remember after my father died, my Mom really lost her shit. She was devastated and so lost. She had lost both her parents by the time she was 16, her sister, her child (my sister) and now her husband. I think it was all just too much for her to process and I didn't blame her. She drank to the point of me knowing there was something wrong. I was 5. I knew something was up. By the time I was 7, I was hiding her car keys. How the hell did I know to do that? I have no idea but I did. I remember once, my Aunt came to see my mom and my mom was passed out in her bedroom. She was attempting to do laundry and there was a basket near her filled with the laundry. As my aunt came up the stairs I was freaking out. I had seen my Aunt kick my mother in the past when she was drunk. I grabbed that laundry and I dumped it all over my mom as she slept and I lied and told my Aunt that my Mother was at the store! I am still amazed that I did that.I was 8. My Aunt believed me and never knew. After she left, I went and sat out on the back steps of the house and cried. I don't even remember being sad. I just remember feeling helpless and frustrated and wondering what I did wrong. I seriously wonder how I am not more fucked up than I am. How I did not turn to drugs, alcohol etc. I never ever did. I was a virgin till I was 21. I've never done an illegal drug in my life. I took 2 puffs of weed once and was grossed out by it. I have drank but I honestly do not like alcohol except for champagne and I never drink to get drunk. I have never done any other drugs except for prescribed narcotics for pain when I've been ill.

So where am I going with this, let me think.......oh yeah. My mom was in and out of rehab many times. I spent a lot of my childhood at AA meetings. At that time, it was the 70's there were other kids there and there was always someone who would watch us while our parents were attending the meetings. At times we were in those smoked filled rooms and I remember hearing some crazy assed stories of other peoples journeys and all the shit they had endured and put their loved ones through. As you can imagine, this really affected me deeply. For some reason unknown to me, I had a very pronounced ability to feel the pain of others. I never thought badly of those people, I only felt compassion for them and prayed that they could find a way to get better. I remember always feeling so different and out of place with other kids. I felt like an impostor, like I really wasn't a kid. Like I was an adult trapped in a kids body. I've always felt old ever since I can remember which is strange since I have such a crazy sense of humor and I always see the absurdity and the lighter side of things. Maybe that's not so crazy after all, maybe that was my coping mechanism, my humor. Oh that and food. Yep, I did inherit the addictive gene and cheese doodles were my drug of choice.

I was pretty fat for most of my childhood. I loved food, eating it, cooking it, you name it. I even became a pastry chef at one point. After my mom died I finally began to deal with all my experiences and I was able to release the weight. 89 lbs of it. And I've pretty much stayed healthy and relatively slim since. I'll never be skinny but I'm not plus sized anymore and I get why I was eating and I do not do it in a destructive way anymore. Her death seemed to free me up to start taking care of me and admit a lot of things that I never wanted to admit. It's funny how when you deal with your feelings, you really see your patterns and why you do the things you do.

So on Mothers day, I was thinking. Thinking about all of it. And I felt sort of shocked that all these years later I can honestly say that I'm grateful for all that stuff. I really can't look at it and feel sorry for myself. I wouldn't change my beautiful mom for a sober one, I would not change her death even though I miss her daily and still cry and ache for her. She had to go to free me to grow out of my cocoon and be the butterfly I have become. I beat myself up a lot, I'm a slob, this is a thing about myself that I consistently wish I could change. I've tried, I do make efforts but I recently thought to myself well fuck, if that is the absolutely worst thing you can say about yourself what the hell is wrong with you? That's nothing! no one is perfect, if you're unorganized and sloppy, WHATEVER. There is plenty of fabulousness about you that offsets your slobbery (do you like my new word?). Maybe I'm getting old, maybe it's middle age but I think I finally *drum roll*, I finally like myself. Fat thighs, frizzy hair, sloppiness all of it. I mean I even posted a pic here of myself in a BATHING SUIT last year. (See: "bathing beauty" entry). That took a lot of moxie, it's got to mean something.

I have no idea why I exploded like this here. I'm off from work this week and up late being introspective and here I am. I have a goofy entry planned for tomorrow though so fear not, my light hearted self will return in a few!




NOTE: Customers who purchased this also purchased:

"She's Come Undone", by Wally Lamb ;)



That's all for now! :)

Fun site of the day

I cannot believe I didn't know about this site. I just sat here for 30 minute laughing my ass off, yes, I LMAO. People really are something aren't they? I love this site and I am sad that I only discovered it now that it's not active anymore but there seems to be plenty to enjoy.

That's all for now :)

Have a happy period

The time: 10:30 this AM

The place: the middle of the block as I walked to the subway to go to work this morning

The players: me and an innocent male passerby



Me: "hums to self whilst skipping down the block" lalalala, hmmmm....

He:*as he approached me head on "Excuse me, you dropped something"

Me: "oh? hmmm, what? thank you! *turns around to look at dropped item which was about 15 to 20 feet behind me now

He : *as he realized what item was*"oh no! I'm sorry!"

Me: "What?" *approaches item and recognizes it to be......A TAMPON IN ITS WRAPPER "OH MY GOD!! NOOOOO! OH NO NO NO! THIS IS THE MOST EMBARRASSING THING IN YEARS! YEARS!! OMG!

He: "No! It's OK! I've seen them before! I know! I'm so sorry, after I realized what it was I felt terrible and I thought maybe I shouldn't have said anything, she's gonna be really embarrassed! I'm sorry!

Me:" Oh God, no. This is just, oh god. OMG. I have no idea where it came from!" *clumsily checks well zipped up bag*

He: "I know, you look all zipped up there!"

Me: "please, can you pretend this never happened and you have no idea who I am if you ever see me again, please?

He: " OMG, yes, yes, I'm so sorry, so so sorry"

THE END.

Pic of the day

It's official, I am a Yoga bigot

OK, I'm on a hot rant right now and I'm gonna just free form on you. I haven't written like this in a bit so beware, Mount Fussbudget is due for an eruption. I just got into a VERY spirited discussion with a bunch of friends about Yoga among other things. Yes, Yoga. I know I've talked about my dislike for men who do it here in the past and my feelings have not changed. Not only have they not changed, they have intensified after two more experiences with Yoga practicing weirdos.

To be honest, after my last rant I felt like maybe I was being a bit bigoted and closed minded and I decided to give yoga do-ers a chance to see if maybe I was being unnecessarily harsh. I am here to report back that no, I was not. After checking, they are still fruit loops and I was correct in my assumption that there is something definitely off about male yoga doers. Female yoga do-ers seem to be a mixed group. Some are wound so tightly that you could bounce a quarter off their faces. These people LIVE to be offended by anything and everything. Others are just normal gals who want to stay in shape and strengthen etc. In all of this, gay men seem to get a free pass. I never met an annoying gay guy whose annoyingness was tied into his Yoga doing.

The thing about these yoga people is that there seems to be this super annoying douchey subculture related to it. Toss in meditation, vegetarianism/veganism, wearing skinny pants, driving a prius, being "spiritual but not religious", being "fiscally conservative but morally liberal", listening to indie bands and watching indie movies, owning a Mac and you've got the makings of a community of super annoying Chris Martins. See, all of these things in and of themselves do not annoy me, but when they all get combined it's the perfect storm for the making of a huge jerk. The weird part is, you would think that doing yoga would make these people relaxed but no. They are uptight and offended more easily than the average person in my experience and they are definitely neurotic to a large degree. Another thing is that self aware seems to equal self absorbed. They like to think they're all sensitive and in touch with feelings and such but in truth they are only sensitive to their OWN feelings, not yours or anyone elses. They make me want to hold them down whilst I eat a nice drippy slab of ribs in front of them.

I recently met two men who were yoga doers. The red light went off when I leaned this about them but I said you know, don't be a judgemental asshole here, give this person a chance. I was rewarded with a completely humiliating experience with one of them. I won't even tell you the story but this man fancied himself to be quite the evolved person and he was the most lost, confused person I have ever encountered. He treated me like a disposable object, never apologized or tried to be a decent person. He was quite simply a nightmare who should have come with a warning label. Even now, the thought of him roaming around out there makes me wish I could warn others. He was trying so hard to be a "good person" that it seemed to be totally out of his reach. I look back on it now and I think, what the hell was I thinking in letting my guard down and giving this guy the chance to be with my fabulous self? I spent time with him trying to help him when he needed it and he just randomly dismissed me and acted like I did not exist for absolutely no reason. This after HE pursued ME and convinced me that he was "different". Oh he was different alright. He could have been my case study in my psych classes for my personality disorder unit. The thing is, I really wasn't even into him seriously but I considered him a budding friend. All I wanted was some respect back after giving it to him but he was unable to even manage something as simple as that. Honestly, he deserved to have "massengill" carved into his forehead. Remember the scenes in "Inglorious Basterds" where they carved the Nazi emblem into the captured Nazis foreheads? Well replace that with "massengill" and I would be a happy girl if I could inflict that on that thoughtless, rude man. The other Yoga doer was just flaky. Not much to tell you on it but there was something off about him from the very little that I knew about him. Had some odd quirks. Not a hurtful jerk, he was sexy, sweet and fun to be with and I really liked him a lot but there was something that just wasn't right there.

I think my point here is not to hate on all Yoga doers even if it seems that I am with this crazy scattered tirade of mine. It's not even the Yoga itself. Yoga, of course, has very clear health benefits and the same with vegetarianism, it's that it tends to be one symptom of many that leads to the fatal disease of douchebaggery. I assume part of it is location, but you want to find the most uptight, self-righteous, annoying bunch of wankers? I'm willing to bet it's the yoga, vegan, Mac owning, Prius driving, skinny pant wearing, meditating, indie rock listening set! Yet out of that lot, there will be at least one really cool person who can't stand the rest of the people who do what he does, there are always exceptions to this biased, blanket statement I'm making.

Oh, bonus for you, the discussion we had also included a rant on Natasha Beddingfield as well. I know. By now you must be wondering, what the hell does this woman actually like? Plenty! But it's not as cathartic to tell you about that as it is to bitch about the things that annoy me. It's not very fussbudgety to talk about things I like all the time is it?So Natasha Beddingfield. OK, the thing about her is, she has all the emotion of a Yoplait yogurt commercial. Kind of like...OMG, this yogurt is *expressing yourself in a heartfelt ballad* good. Does that make sense to you? I don't really know why I hate her. She seems sweet, I kind of feel bad about it but I almost want to kick her. She's just so... empowered woman write-in-journal I am my own person kind of... blah. She and Colbie Calait would frolic in sun drenched fields together. I seem to have an irrational dislike for these two broads. I do not like this entire genre of music. It makes me think of Grays Anatomy, Dawsons Creek and other stupid overwrought hour long dramas with bad dialogue and totally implausible story lines on network TV. That "pocket full of sunshine" song makes me want to kill something too, or wax my floor with something lemony smelling that will create sparkle. When I hear her music. I feel like I should be sipping a pro-biotic smoothie after my bikram yoga class and on my way to a day spa in my husbands Mercedes.

I am now signing off to do some power yoga, drink soy macchiatos and stand in front in the mirror, wearing my Louboutins thankyouverymuch.

PS.....the video I posted below pretty much sums up my feelings on Yoga guys. for some reason it wasn't embeddable in this post. I have actually met men that are not too far from this guy. .....enjoy

That's all for now :)

Inappropriate Yoga Guy - Yoga, Bitch!

New shoes....

I know, you're really turned on right now, aren't you? Try to focus and give me your honest opinion. Do you like my new shoes? I'm not sure if they are suitable for work or not. What do you think? I'm sorry for the beaver-like expression here. I was trying to maintain my balance and really get a good pic of the footwear for you.

I meant to share this website with you a long time ago, I love it. It's right up there for me with with peopleofwalmart.com . Hope this provides you with as many giggles as it does me.

That's all for now :)

Pic of the day :)

How did they not see this when they designed this building?

The saddest book ever written...

Someone sent me this link today, there was a cute piece on SFweekly declaring this tome the saddest ever.I cannot take credit for this one. I was dying of laughter at it. It really is kinda tragic isn't it? I love the little drawbridge coming out of her microwave door. WTF with that? I have never seen a microwave like that before. Tears with a dash of bitterness make a tasty marinade don't they? What is one person going to do with all that food? Is Marie going to binge like a drug addict on it to forget about her loneliness? Can you imagine her madly overdecorating that little cake for one in front of her in between crying bouts? "Just what are you bitchez looking at? I'm worth it dammit! Cake for one? WHY THE FUCK NOT? GO TO HELL HATERS!"

OK, which one of you is messing with my head?

I'm sorry I don't have one of those fabulous inspirational, informational blogs that makes you want to be a better person or enriches your mind or whatever. This blog is basically a mishmash of whatever with a little bit of crazy thrown in. I'm about to tell you something so strange that you may question my sanity but I am a bit freaked out and I want to vent a bit before I go to bed. I realize I am risking you thinking I'm crazy but, whatever. If you have a weak stomach or you are irritable and don't want to listen to a lot of senseless rambling, get out now.Here goes....

I went out today for quite a while. I live alone.When I came home, I went to my bathroom. What I found there was not something I expected. I'm going to try to be be as frank as possible without grossing you out. There was something in my toilet that I did not leave there. Get the picture? At first, I thought maybe I forgot to flush but then I remembered, I didn't go before I went out. I am sure of it because being on Weight Watchers and being obsessed with the happenings of my bod I am really aware of these things. I follow the workings of my body pretty closely. I know for a fact that the item in question was not produced by me, it simply wasn't one of mine. I know what mine look like and that one was not born from me. Have I totally lost you yet or should I continue?

At this point I was getting scared but I knew I was alone in my apt and no one was lurking. After losing my keys last Friday night and getting the extra set from my ex, no one has my keys now, not even my landlord. For a minute, I wondered about the plumbing. Could something have backed up in there? I don't think so, not something that already went down and even so, that thing was not mine!

In the midst of all this, I spoke to a friend about this to try and calm myself down. Being upset and a little freaked I told him the situation. He was completely silent for a second and then he said "how can you be sure that isn't yours?" I went through the whole thing with him again and we reasoned out a few scenarios and none of it made sense. He told me to take pics of it for some reason so I did, "evidence"and all. At this point he mentioned a guy he works with who is an ex cop and he said we should call him and ask him if I should file a report. Can you imagine it? "Officer, there is poop in my toilet and I don't know where it came from, please send a squad car over stat". That would be a classic down at the station. "Hey Bill, remember that crazy call we got about a random drive by turding 3 years ago?" Anyway,I felt really stupid but he called the guy and the guy called me back and I told him the sitch.

His first comment was "how do you know it's not yours?" I went through the whole thing AGAIN with being on WW'ers and knowing my body etc etc. He actually said "oh yeah, my wife is doing that too". We talked about it for a bit and he said I could file a report if I wanted to but there was nothing they could do. He sounded a little disbelieving of me too, even he, a NYC cop. They've heard it all and he said he never heard one like this before. I could tell he thought I was nuts and he probably wanted to laugh at me. I wish I had a DNA kit to prove that thing wasn't mine. I really want to be vindicated on this one


Here's my question to you, if you came home and found that in your toilet and you knew it wasn't yours, what would you do? Would you question your sanity? The plumbing? Your forgetfulness? I've told this scenario to a few people and everyone responds with "how do you know it's not yours?" People, do you really not know what came from your own body? I guess I'm a sick freak because I look, yes I do. Maybe I've been listening to too much Dr Oz lately, but looking at it helps me see if what I'm eating is agreeing with me and what I need to tweak in my diet. Am I getting too gross and graphic for you? Well if I am you are a pussy and you don't belong here, run along now.

I'm actually wondering if it was the locksmith who changed my lock back when my ex fucked me over and was acting insane. I changed the lock about a year and 1/2 ago. That locksmith asked me out three times. I bumped into him twice after the lock change. Losing my keys Friday night also seems connected to this. What drama that one was! I was locked out in torrential rain and remembered that I gave my new set of keys to my ex when we got back together for a brief while (yes I am a complete asshole and need to be yelled at and mocked severely by Dr Phil, Dr Laura, Judge Judy and whoever else is nasty and yells at stupid women who give their ex's their keys like I did).

Anyway, he ran over here quickly so I didn't have to pay a locksmith to get me in. The good part was at the time of my call for help, he was on his way to a date with some chick who is even older than me (WOW) and has a kid. This after he said he wanted someone younger than me. My drama kind of put a damper on his date. Good on that I say after all the pain and heartache that man caused me. I still adore him and love him and I am eternally grateful to him but damn did that man ruin me and he has no idea what he put me through. I also mocked him and told him to have fun with his 'laday friend". That actually felt pretty good.

Good God I am tired and confused and have a headache just telling you this disjointed story. I can only imagine the agony you must be in after trudging through it all. I imagine I must sound like a total tangential, hyper mental patient but its called "venting" and my filter is off right now.
Anyhow, now I'm a little nervous to sleep here tonite alone and I'm wondering where this this monster came from. And how was your day?

Cute pic of the day :)

Oh No She Di'int !

OPRAH AND JON TESH? REALLY OPRAH? REALLY?

This was quite the gross out for me last night. Apparently O and the Teshter had a case of jungle fever back in the 70's. My ex told me this in a matter of fact way. He knows that I read the Enquirer as my guilty pleasure when I want to totally unwind and not think after a hard week. I actually screamed out NO!! NO WAY!! SHE CHEATED ON GALE? Then the full story came out about him dumping her due to race or whatever. Entertainment tonight was covering this like it was Watergate or something. OK, that part, if it's true, is really sad and pathetic on Jon Teshs part even if it was 1974. With Kitty Kelly being behind it who knows the real deets but Tesh did confirm dating Lady O when she was really young. This grosses me out like nothing else. Yeah, I'm judgin'. Sorry but ew. Jon Tesh is dating down for anyone. Even for you and me as ordinary non-famous citizens. If one of you commented here "but I dated Jon Tesh in the 70's" ,first of all I would track you down and smack you and then I'd say even to you "WHAT? you didn't think you could do better than THAT?" Incidentally, do you not love this pic of Jon Tesh? It is actually his face superimposed over Mary Harts' 80's 'do. It's not too far from the truth actually.

The thing about Jon Tesh is, he is a big blond Frankenstein of a guy. He is creepy. And he writes the fruitiest new age music. It's horrid. Sort of like Yanni. And Yanni got busted for beating up his GF years ago. I am still shocked that the lovely Linda Evans dated Yanni for a million years too. WTF kind of magical powers do these new agey guys seem to have over gorgeous women? Thank God I'm ugly and not famous or I'd feel at risk for being charmed by one of these nutbags. There's a lot behind those creepy new agey guys. I cannot believe Tesh has been married to the beautiful Connie Selleca for so long. I loved her when I was a kid. She seemed so normal , WTH has she been doing with Jon Tesh for all these years? For the life of me I cannot imagine Jon Tesh doing ANYBODY and lord knows I've tried over the last day. For whatever reasons he grosses me out and sets off something almost violent in me. Go figure. I guess he does have magical powers after all, only they seem to be negatively magical on me. After absorbing this for a few minutes I realized that Oprah did date Roger Ebert years ago too so this really isn't THAT surprising. Bless her for giving ugly dudes a chance like she has. No wonder Gale won out as her soul mate in the end. OK, that about does it, I guess I'm done expressing my shock and horror at this little nugget of the celebrity dating archives.

Carry on all..... :)

I'm a Belieber

Lately I've been noticing that where ever I turn, I seem to be hearing about this Justin Beiber kid. He's today's answer for the Leif Garretts, Andy Gibbs and Scott Baio's of my day. Yes, I realize I'm dating myself but it seems like the idols of my day actually had chest hair of some sort and some of them even had drivers licenses. Justin Beiber is 16 but he looks 12. The girls in his videos all look bigger than him. I know it's horrible, bitchy and mean for a grown woman like me to me to gripe about a 16 year old sensation but too fucking bad, it's my blog and he's annoying the crap out of me lately so there. I just suddenly became aware of this kid recently. Last year there was a mob scene at a mall nearby here where they had to call in the cops because people went wild for this kid. I had never heard of him. Honestly, he's not all THAT bad, I think I may be feeling a bit jealous at this kid having more radiant skin than me. Life just isnt fair.

The crazy thing is, I have been hearing his songs on the radio and I thought it was a chick! I was actually tapping my toes to "Baby" thinking, "I wonder who this girl is?"and "Oh, that sounds like Ludicris" I had no idea it was a teenage boy! I gotta tell ya I hate to admit it ,but the song actually was pretty catchy. And the video was pretty cute, at least the Ludicris part. To make matters worse, he totally reminds me of a younger Ellen Page, you know that girl from the movie Juno? Look at her. Now look at him. See what I mean? He almost has a trendy lesbian vibe to him. I ain't buying the teen boy thing right now, something is off for me. I have a weird suspicion that he's actually 35 and he's already gone through puberty. Sort of like Ralph Macchio in the Karate Kid. Remember that? He was 23 when he filmed Karate Kid and he easily looked 14. It was freaky. Even now he looks a lot younger than his 49 years. As far as Justin, I wonder what's gonna happen to that voice once he hits puberty? Will his career be over? Should be interesting.

Strangely, Justin signed a contract with R&B superstar Usher after his manager saw him on you tube. Now, Usher is grooming him to be an R&B/pop performer to the point where Ludricris was featured on one of his recent songs! Justin Beibers followers are called...are ya ready for this?....BELIBERS! I have to admit I had a nice laugh at hearing that one. Is anyone else surprised by this? Usher, lucked out here because this kid is becoming huge. I pray to God he doesn't become a bloated, unrecognizable mess in a few years from now while wigged out on presciption pain meds and cheap booze. Big lesson here for me as well, do something fabulous on you tube STAT and stop wasting your greatness in your apartment alone.

All this makes me wonder a bit, what the hell is going on with girls now? Why are their idols so girlish? I mean, we had Johnny Depp way back when during his "21 Jump Street" days and he was quite the lady back then but still, you knew he was a boy for sure. I realize that tweens are not gonna go for a guy who seems to be any kind of a threat with his masculinity or sexuality, they still need it to be all innocent and swoonish but this Beiber kid looks like he should be dating Taylor Lautner. Can't you picture Taylor Lautner dating her? I totally could. Miley Cyrus looks like she could be his mother for crying out loud. I don't know what's more maddening for me lately....being haunted by Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA or Justin Beibers "One Less Lonely Girl". I actually like "One Less Lonely Girl". There, I said it. That is one sweet video, go over to youtube and watch it, seriously, it makes me feel young and hopeful again, props to the Beibster on that one.

Oh and in case you havn't seen it there is a really popular and hilarious video of a 3 year old little girl who is crying hysterically because she loves Justin Beiber so much. He actually surprised her on Jimmy Kimmel. Even my hardened heart thought this was adorable, especially the part where the phone rings and she thinks its him.







Was that not the cutest thing? It almost made him bearable for me.

Anyway, now that I've come across as a haggy, bitter old woman and criticized this child mercilessly, I guess I'll step down from my podium for the time being. Justin, not that you're reading this, but I hope you make me a fool and go on to do really great things. Stay away from drugs and loose women/men, DO NOT make any sex tapes of yourself or at least wait till you're a has been and use to it revive your sagging career. Oh and make sure you do a stint in drug rehab or better yet, sex rebab. Sex rehab is the new drug rehab, FYI. Everyone who's anyone is in sex rehab, has done it or is planning to do it. I really do hope for the best for you despite my vicious attack on ya. Even I can admit that some of your songs are...catchy. 'Nuff said.

PEACE OUT YO *Z gang sign Z*

Easter Reflections...

I was thinking today about Easter when I was little. I was a fat, awkward kid. This was back when chubbiness could be cute if you were a certain age. Easter was a major score for a fat kid like me. Next to Halloween, it was the best holiday in that large amounts of candy were not only OK, they were actually given to you by adults.

My mom used to sew and Easter time was a big thing for her. We were church goers and people dressed up at that time. She always used to make me an Easter dress every year. We would go and pick out the fabric and we would go to the sewing place and look at all the patterns. At the time, I wanted a "maxi" dress. This was all the rage at that time in the 70's. People wore "maxi" dresses and "maxi" coats. They were floor length. Think Maude/Bea Arthur. I had a few Bea Arthur-esque vests in my repertoire too and I really thought I was the shit. After the fabric and pattern was chosen my mother would pin it on me, doing her thing and then sew it all together on her machine. We'd go to the Buster Brown shop and I'd get my Easter shoes, usually white, and I was all set. One year, she took a ceramics class and she made me a ceramic Easter Basket. She was so proud of herself. That day she gave it to me I clumsily dropped it and it partially broke. She screamed at me and all the pictures from Easter that year are of me holding my broken Easter basket with big tears in my eyes and a nasty scowl. It makes me laugh now to look at that but at the time, oh what drama!

Now, looking back, how could I not have been fat? Food was such a huge thing for us. True I was a lot more active than a lot of kids now with no video games, no computer and playing outside and riding my bike daily but I loved my goodies and they were always around. We didn't even know what fat grams were at the time and there was no such thing as low fat anything. I don't blame my Mother at all, she had weight issues too and she joined weight watchers in the 70's when I was really young and she was successful, at losing a significant amount.

I remember her sitting at the living room coffee table at night while she watched TV with a grapefruit, peeling it slowly and eating segment by segment with her glass of Fresca. Remember Fresca? Do they still make it? She told me that Weight Watchers taught her that if you eat something that takes time to get to (like the peeling of the grapefruit) it seems like you are eating more and it occupies your hands when you are bored and wanting to eat. To this day, I try to do that with fruit(my blood oranges) when I have that restless "I wanna eat something" feeling. I try to pick something that takes a little effort to eat so it lasts longer and gives me something to do for a bit. She also used to have half a cantaloupe at night with a scoop of frozen iced milk in the center(that's what they called it at the time). That was a big treat for her too. She always tried to share with me what she learned but I wouldn't have it. I wasn't ready. Even in my 20's, I wasn't ready. She would sometimes make gentle comments about my weight when I would complain about it, she wanted to help and one day I turned to her and said, "do you think I will ever lose this weight?" She turned to me and softly said "of course you will, when you're ready". She was right.

It took me till I was 31 years old to be ready. That was the year after she died. I wonder why I waited so long? I'm sure there are a host of reasons but a big part of it was probably recognizing my own mortality and the fact that time was limited, I wasn't going to live forever and I wanted to enjoy my time here somewhat as a thin person. I also think I felt like it was time to say goodbye to the old me, the me who had experienced a lot of traumas and struggles and to stop hiding behind my fat. My fat was safe, I was non-threatening and not a risk taker. Nothing was expected of me. Or maybe I should say, I expected nothing of myself therefore no one else did either. Domino effect, no? After the weight loss I think it was no coincidence that I went back to school for a different career and got into the most serious relationship of my life. I finally began to LIVE. One day I looked in the mirror and all of a sudden, I realized that I was pretty. I just "became" pretty overnight. Of course this is not literally true, it is what happened in my head, through my own eyes. I saw the girl my mother always saw, the girl that was always there and after finally getting to the point where I learned to appreciate and like myself, everything about me changed, even my looks!

It's funny but someone actually told me today that she thought of me as a take charge kind of person who could handle anything. I don't feel like that at all but no one ever saw me like that when I was obese. I certainly didn't. Maybe it has nothing at all to do with that weight but more with who I became when I shed myself of it. I stopped apologizing for who I was and I have worked on becoming who I wanted to be. These are all things to really think about. They also lend truth to my thoughts that no one is fat because of their love for food, being fat is a "condition" that comes on related to whatever is going on in your life that makes you overeat. Essentially, "I came down fat" because I was completely stumped at how to cope with my traumas and stresses and food seemed to be the answer at the time. I blame no one, as a matter of fact, I thank God that I did not become a drug addict or an alcoholic. Food was the least of all evils considering the additions that ran rampant in my family.

Anyway, It's funny how 35 years later, I still vividly remember my Mother developing her healthy habits when at the time I don't remember thinking much of it. It made quite the impact on me and I wish she was still alive to tell her so. Another thing I'm realizing is that my relationship with my mother is still continuing and all that bullshit that people say when someone dies about the person never really leaving you is actually true. True, she is not here physically but I am constantly amazed at how things she said and did are still with me, traditions she taught me, advice she gave me...all of it. It's still here in my head so basically, she is still alive and well in my gray matter. I never ever believed this when people would say it to me, that a person lives on. I was too literal but now, after being without her for almost 15 years, I finally see what they meant. I still dream of her and actually have conversations with her and what a treasured treat that is. If you are a parent and reading this, do not underestimate the impact your habits and behaviors can have on your family/children. Even many years later after you are gone, you might be surprised at what sticks!

Happy Easter Everyone!