Serenity Now

I think I decided the really important things in my life long before the situation arose… before I knew *if* the situation would arise.  I named my baby Alexander long before I met his father.  I also had plans for other things.  The thing is, some those things are in Indiana and I am not. Things that seemed like a good idea at the time just aren't as attractive anymore.  Getting married is an easy thing to do.  This wedding business is completely different story.

 

In fifth grade, I just KNEW that Mrs. McQueary was going to sing Schubert's Ave Maria at my wedding.  I've recently Googled the woman to no avail.  I don't know if I'm spelling her name correctly.  I think if I found her, I'd fly her to Texas to sing.

 

When I was working at from the Glen Park Bakery, I saw the most perfect stacked wedding cake with blue flowers.  Sadly, they've gone out of business.  My Tía Jesusa is a master cake decorator.  She's retired now.  She got rid of all her cake pans after she made her final cake for Alex last year.  I'm not worried about finding a cake.  There are roughly fifty thousand bakeries in the metroplex, but I had that image in my head, you know?  

 

Is it wrong to want the wedding party to all be in All Stars?  Somehow I don't think Juana will go for it.

 

After watching Steel Magnolias 15-20 times, I assumed that everyone had bleeding armadillo groom's cake.  I knew I'd have one.  I finally looked up what the hell a groom's cake is because such things don't exist in Indiana.  It's a gift from the bride to the groom.  Yes!  I get to pick!  It was remarkably easy to find.  However, it won't be blood-red velvet cake.  My Honey wants chocolate and that's cool.

 

I have to find somewhere to hold this shindig.  I have no clue.  None.  I haven't even been to a place that I think would be good.  I don't know what to do about food.  I vacillate between having a full-service dinner, getting Subway party platters and hiring a Mexican to grill burgers.  I think Carl would cater it back home, but I don't even have a way to contact him, if I were going back to Indiana, which I'm not.  I'm sorry…The caterer wants how much for food?  Do we have to feed them?   Think it will matter if I serve enough beer? 

 

Part of being ghetto/ being a Region Rat/ living in the Greater Chicagoland Viewing Area is having-the-hook-up, knowing-a-guy, and being able to call on my-buddy-over-at-the-flea-market, my friend's step-dad or a whole slew of people who are more than willing to help out for $20 and some of my mom's tamales come Christmas.  I've lost my connections.  I don't like it.

 

Now, I don't actually need my connections.  I'm a grown-up (kinda sorta sometimes).  I am capable of researching and planning.  Still.   I'm dying here.  Every time I figure out how much something is going to cost, I don't want to do it.   No worries, folks.  I'll get this together and I will feed you.  Chris will anyway cuz my ass is broke.   Please stick with me as I obsess and worry.  Beginnings can be rough, but it will be fabulous in the end.  Right?

Life is Good

I am happy to inform you (in case you didn't get the text message or read my bulletin) that Chris and I are engaged.

I'm happy.  He's happy.  Mom's happy.  All is well in my world.

We're thinking of a summer wedding.  Keep your Saturdays free in July.  I know I have a lot of planning to do.  I gotta be honest here.  I  have no idea exactly what, when or how I need to be planning.  I'm wide open to suggestions... especially if you can get me the hook-up.  Me...ghetto?  Hell yes. 

I've had a very full and exciting evening.  I'm sure the wedding stuff will be taking over my blogs until football season starts up. BTW, the team finally got their trophies for being City Runner-Ups.  I'm so proud of those guys! 

My brain is full.  I need help. Who's gonna go dress shopping with me?  Is it wrong to wear Chuck Taylors under my dress? Will the old man want to walk me down the aisle?  Does anyone know where I can get a groom's cake in the shape of a giant armadillo? 

I need to regroup.  I'm off to bed.  Today, I'm another year older and a lot happier and I wanted to share that with you.

Fa lala fa lala la la la

I've been having a good week. 

I've been productive at work and I'm all caught up for the first time in a long time.

Kris and I went to see Duran Duran.  My throat was a little sore from the screaming, but that's ok.  It was fun! (though I think Kris is sick from screaming and walking through the freezing rain since we parked so far from the door)

I've gotten some shopping done.  I haven't mailed my Christmas cards, but the post office machine only took cash.  Who carries cash?

I haven't bitten my nails.

My Honey is having my muffler fixed this weekend.

Good things are in the works.  Life is good.

Peace.  Love.  Merry Christmas!!!

I'm alone

Chris and Alex left me home alone this morning.  They've gone Christmas shopping...presumably for me.  Is that sweet or what?  I watched them pull out out of the driveway.  Alex had his feet up on the dash and then he took them down to recline the seat and then he set it up again.  The two of them were talking and smiling and I felt all warm inside.

I've kept Alex away from men who I've dated.  I've done it quite conscientiously, purposely and purposefully.  I never wanted him to become attached to someone who could become dispensible.  I never wanted someone thinking they could get to me through him.  I never wanted anyone touching him or even looking at him wrong.  Then I met Chris and I never worried about that stuff.  I introduced the two of them rather early in our relationship.  Chris has been to every football game and most of the practices when he wasn't working late.  He plans things for the three of us to do on weekends and the two of them get along wonderfully.  Sometimes too well...they've double-teamed me and think they're cute.  Well, they are, but still...

I'm gonna get my butt in gear.  We have a pretty good day planned.  They'll be back in a couple of hours so I'm alone for now, but never lonely.

Thanksgiving Weekend

While sitting at work I received a text message from Juana.  It said, ""Dad heard there was a gringo at his house 4 thanksgiving... where is the blog?""   I was tired.  Give me a break. 

I'll give you the short version as my brain isn't back from break yet.  Oh.  For the record, My Honey prefers to be referred to as a guerro.  Get it right.   

Yes, I took a white man to my parents house.   He drove all but two hours roundtrip...and that's roughly 16 hours of driving.  I warned him that my family is crazy.  I think meeting Mama first was the best way to gently ease him into the craziness. 

For Thanksgiving we had way too much really tasty, fattening food.  Tia Maria, Hector and Abigail came by for lunch.  Good times.  Tio Fernando came by with his wife for dinner.  I slept through dinner.  I took about a six hour nap.  Chris said he tried to wake me up three times and I answered him each time.  I remember telling him once to leave me alone, but not the other two times. When I woke up, Alex and Eric were both alive.  Good enough for me. 

Friday Alex got his rice patties and tortillas.  In the afternoon Chris took me and the kids to the dollar show to see Rush Hour 3.  It's about as good as you think.  Chris and the boys played a lot of Mom's plug-n-play Wheel of Fortune game.  I think I was humming the theme in my head today at work. 

Saturday Mom, Tia, Alex, Eric, Chris and I piled into the Freestyle and went to Tia Jesusa's house.  Vicky and her new husband were there and having a cookout.  We ate a lot more tasty food and talked for hours.  Tia is way too skinny.  She did eat while we were there, but she didn't seem herself.   The Spanish, English, Spanglish thing was happening at full speed with several conversations going on at once.  I caught the part where Tia told me Chris seemed like a really good guy and it's about time I found one.  (she ain't kidding)  However, I missed the part where she told Mom that I should hurry up and marry him.  Mom told me about it Sunday morning. Chris told me on the ride home.  Did I mention he knows more Spanish than I do?  Speaking of marriage, did anyone call the old folks and wish them a happy 44th anniversary Saturday?

Sunday we had barbocoa and tortillas before packing up and heading out.  Mom told Alex to listen to Chris and be respectful because he's good to us.  He will.  He also told Chris to take care of me and Alex.  He does.  He really does.  He's the best.  Mama started crying.  She misses us and she's happy for us.  At least Chris knows why I'm such a crier.  Heredity is a kick in the butt sometimes.  We had group hugs & kisses and came home, arriving safely around 9:00 last night.

This is the short version?  To wrap it up... everyone liked the guerro and he liked everyone he met and everything he ate.  He'll be meeting the rest of the clan this summer.  Has anyone nailed down a date yet?  I've tried to warn him about my sisters and Dad... of course there's no preparing for the old man. 

I'll see you this summer at V's house.  Much love!

My Sandwich

I was feeling almost normal for almost 3 days.  *sigh*  Now I'm feeling crappy again and my usual meds are not cutting it this time.  I think maybe the start of it was Sunday.  I assumed it was the roller coasters, but I sat motionless in my office with my head and stomach feeling like they did at Six Flags, I realized that may have been the beginning of whatever new cooty I've contracted.  Plus the weather changes are retarded...80 degrees one day, 40 the next and tomorrow it'll be 70.  Bleah.  I'm so tired of this nonsense.  On top of all that, I'm swamped at work.  My dumb ass once again let on that I'm capable of doing stuff.  The company was getting ready to pay the printing broker guy to make minor changes to the catalog.  I volunteered to make those changes because I think the printing guy is a clueless jackass.  Once my boss realized I could do what I said, he found lots of other changes to be made.  So instead of changing a couple of words, I've spent two days on this. 

I didn't get all the stuff done I wanted to do today.  Not even close.  I had a list of four things to do by noon.  And honestly, those things could have been done if that was all I had to do.  I still have to do all the other stuff that comes with my multiple titles (none of which came with a pay raise).  I kept getting phone calls and called into his office for other stuff.  I was feverish and achey and I just wasn't feeling it.  Then at 1:00, I was ready to go to lunch and so was my boss.   He left. I couldn't.  As he walked out he was giving me something else to do before he got back. I did it all the while getting more and more upset.  I was sick, tired, hungry, hot, dizzy and feeling taken for granted.  I can't lie.  I was crying by the time I finished that one last stupid thing that could have been done back in October or next month.   

I think I'm in over my head.  When I was hired I was back-up customer service and part-time administrative assistant.  Then I was the customer service person and part-time admin.  Then I was an admin with no customer service.  Now I'm head of customer service, administrative assistant to the VP, I arrange all the crap for the trade shows (which was 90% one person's whole job) and somehow I became a graphic designer starting with the flyers and now the catalogs. 

Two months ago, I finally got the raise I was promised two years ago and I keep hearing my "role will continue to grow."  I don't want my role to grow anymore.  My role is suprsized as it is.  I'm tired of the role increasing while my paycheck stays the same. 

Everything was compartmentalized to create accountability.  Yeah right.  All it did was make it easier for folks to pass the buck, if they think one fraction of it might be my department.  Even if the person created the situation...  Not their problem now.  It's mine.  They don't know why they did it.  They just know it's a customer service issue.  They don't care that it was the wrong thing to do because they are in no way accountable for making it right.

I like most of the people I work with and I know it's hard to find that just anywhere.  It just seems, the longer I'm there, the harder it is to find joy in my work.  It's important that I be able to find joy in my work.  I spent three years at the lawfirm hating everyday of my job.  I want to feel like I've done something positive at the end of the day.  Lately, I feel like I can't do anything right.  I'm hoping this passes with the aforementioned cooties.

I took a pledge at my committee meeting for Cub Scouts, "We, the willing, have done so much for so long with so little, we are now qualified to do anything with nothing at all."   It's so true, I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

We're going to the 'ship!

We're going to the 'Ship.
We're going to the 'Ship
                                   Who are we!?!    Eagles!!!
                                   Who's the best!?! Eagles!!!
                     to the ship
                                          gonna win!?! Eagles!!!

***********************************************

Now if you're ghetto, you can hear the rhythm of the chanting in your head.  You can probably visualize the boys bouncing as they jam.  For those of  you who are unfortunate enough to have been raised in white America, this is how 9 and 10 year old boys celebrate winning the semi-finals and brag about going to the City Championship.  (What ship?  The Champion Ship... championship...ship...  oooohhhhh! you get it now!)  They also do the Soldier Boy dance...even my baby knows it.  He only looks white.

Good times.  So if you find yourself in Irving this Saturday with nothing to do, stop by the City Championships and root for the Eagles.  Green and Black, baby!  We're up against the self-proclaimed Christian team whose players literally kick our players when they're down and shoves their hands through face masks to poke our boys in the eye.  Bring your signs, "Jesus loves the Eagles!"  "The Good Lord is an Eagles Fan!"  or even just "Go Eagles!"

I can't hang

I spent the day at Six Flags with My Honey.  We rode everything twice.  I stood in line for a max of fifteen minutes and that's cuz I wanted to be in the front for the Batman.  I had never ridden in the front of any coaster.  It was awesome!  I screamed like a girl.  a lot...  I had never heard of Mr. Freeze being a roller coaster, but I will never forget it.  I was terrified and then just when I stopped to take a breath, the damn thing went backwards at about 200 miles an hour.  I am worn out.  I feel chewed up, partially digested and spewed out.  My head hurts and my stomach still feels iffy. 

I had not been to an amusement park in about ten years.  It sucks every time I  discover a new way that I'm getting old.  I used to be able to ride coaster after coaster, eat deep-fried things, have an italian ice and get right back in line for coaster after coaster.  Those days are gone.  I had to sit down a couple of times, chew on Tums and still cut our day short. Bleah.  I'm hoping/thinking that it's like drinking and there's a tolerance I have to rebuild.  I'm banking on it cuz Chris got us season passes for next year.  One is Alex's Christmas present so keep it on the low. 

I wish I could take the day off tomorrow, but I have so much crap to do.  I was actually able to get quite a bit done last week, but not enough to justify a day off just cuz I'm tired from a good time.  Sometimes I wish my parents hadn't raised me as well as they did, but whatcha gonna do?

If ever thou didst love me...

align=center>GET ME BON JOVI TICKETS!

I don't ask for much in this world.  I want enough money to hit the clearance racks and go to the dollar movie, while still being able to afford insurance on my 11 year old ride.  I am so low maintenance that people used to mistake me for being homeless on Hohman Avenue.  That said.... 

I really, really, really, really, really, really want Bon Jovi tickets. 

Good ones and they are so ridiculously expensive, it's....um..ridiculous.  So if  you have a high speed internet connection,  have a hook up to the pre-sale, know a backstage technician, or your cousin used to date Jon's acupunturist, AND you can get me really good tickets, I will love forever.  If you know me, you know the shit I've done to go to the shows.  You still have no idea how badly I want this.  It hurts.  I swear it.  My heart physically aches with longing.  It's an addiction.  But it's a rare indulgence.  Indulge me.

Sick and tired

My throat hurts.  I've been sick for almost a week now.  I get worse and better, but I can't seem to get over it.  Man, it sucks.  Mostly I sleep and sweat and trust my body to rid itself of the offending cooties.  Mostly, it works.  Just not completely.  I woke up last night with a major coughing fit.  It was nasty.  And just as I was finally drifting off Chris asks me if there's anything he can do.  I know he meant well.  He's awesome, but when I'm sick all I want is to be left alone.  I'm an insufferable pain in the ass when I'm sick.  And I'm not too good about curbing it.  I'm sorry if I've bitten your head off recently.  If I spit it out with the seemingly endless gallons of mucus I'm producing, I'll be sure to wipe it off and give it back.

The Eagles won their first round of playoffs.  Next week they play the Gators and if they win, the City Championships are the week after.  I've never really cared for football before this year.   I'm still not a big fan of football, but I am an Eagles fan.  When Alex is too old to be an Eagle, I'll be a fan of whatever he joins afterwards.  I hope it's still Eagles now that I have my shirt. 

Sleepy time for me.  I gained an hour, but I'm losing my mind.  Keep in touch, people.  G'night.

Today

I read this in the Dallas Observer...

**********************

Multiculti--Ask a Mexican

By Gustavo Arellano 

Published: November 1, 2007

Dear Mexican: How do I go to the Mexican grocery store and bakery to buy supplies for our Día de los Muertos party without looking like I'm doing the kitschy-goofy thing I'm doing? I walk up to the register and smile ingratiatingly, saying ""Gracias"" as usual—but a basketful of sugar skulls and other themed items hefted to the register in my Irish-mutt arms isn't subtle. I don't really mind looking stupid, but I don't want to offend anyone.

—Lost Me Lucky Charms

Dear Mickette: Chicano yaktivists will cry holy Aztlán because you're appropriating Mexico's holiday for revering the dead, but screw 'em. Go ahead and miss the point of Día de los Muertos, Lucky Charms: You know better than anyone else that America doesn't truly accept its immigrants until ethnic cultural feasts get warped into besotted celebrations attended by opportunistic politicos, and people forget the original meaning behind the occasion. Wasn't St. Patrick the guy who drove the Jews out of Amsterdam? Similarly, Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) is fast becoming corporatized, with do-it-yourself sugar-skull kits available at craft stores and hipsters building altares not to honor the souls who rest with God but because they read about it in Lonely Planet. Enter the Mexican grocery stores and bakeries with pride, Lucky Charms: You're multicultural! You're having a fiesta! You don't know que chigada you're doing! Really, the Mexican isn't too bitter about your cultural imperialism—you're just fulfilling the prophecy that is the ""Irish I were Mexican"" T-shirt.

I'm super! Thanks for asking!

Thump Thump clap clap Thump Thump clap...Thump Thump clap clap Thump Thump EAGLES!   I love that sound.  It's the sound of 25 boys getting fired up.  They unofficially won the unofficial scrimmage with the Jets 6-0.  On Saturday's official game, they beat the Cowboys 34-0.  As of the time we left the field, the Eagles were in 3rd place, but that was the first game of the day.  It's not expected to change though, but I'll know for sure Tuesday.  This coming Saturday are the first playoff games.  The best eight teams become four.  I'm telling you, it's almost as good as a soap opera.  Especially when you factor in all the nonsense happening off the field.  Crazy, bald lady threatened to yank her kids of the team and had the nerve to get mad cuz no one tried to stop her... Someone's mom screwing some other team's married coach...    A lotta nonsense.  I listen, but I stay out of it, but it's made for an interesting season. 

We also went to Alex's afterschool care on Saturday night, after a long, lazy nap.  They were having a Halloween thing.  It was fun.  I went through the haunted house and screamed like a girl.  Fun. I also won a cake walk and got a triple chocolate budt cake.  Yum.

Today, I slept till noon cuz I have the best boyfriend ever.  After we all showered, we went to a Chinese/Japanese buffet, which had lots of tasty sushi.  I ate with chopsticks.  I feel like a cool kid when I do that.  Then My Honey took me to Steve and Barry's so I could buy Alicia a couple of cute tshirts.  I called her for her birthday and she asked if her present was in the mail.  I told her I was going to the mall today to get her something.  Chris and Alex helped me pick out a couple of shirts and a hoodie.  I also got Alex a new letterman style jacket for $7.49.  (FYI: Steve and Barry's in Grapevine Mills is having a good clearance sale.) After shopping Chris took us to Speed Zone.  I had never been.  Alex really liked it.  We spent a few hours there.  We rode different kids of go carts, played video games and had a blast. 

I love my weekends.  My one complaint is that they are not long enough.  I suppose I could cut back on my Saturday afternoon nap.  Or maybe I'll just take a sick day instead on one of these Mondays.  I think the latter is the better idea. 

I'm washing uniforms so the boys have clean clothes tomorrow morning.  After that, I'm taking my tired butt to bed.

Late weekend update

Seems I've been working cuz I sure haven't been keeping up with MySpace updates.  Ready? Break!

Camping was fun.  I think about 2,000 marshmallows were toasted and/or engulfed in flames.  Next year, I'm taking at least half a day off work so I can set up the tent in the daylight.  I'll also prepare ahead of time so I don't forget the essentials like bottled water.  Chirs was a real trooper.  He'd never been camping, but he was so helpful that I've been told I can't come back next year without him.  I don't know if he wants to go back, but it's not really optional anymore. 

Some things in group camping are hard.  I'm not always good with other people's children because I treat them like my own.  At one point I told a child, ""Tattletale, stop whining and go do what Ms. Lety told you.""  He went to his mom and told on me.  It turns out that's the same kid I told to stop putting his stick in the fire the night before after he was told three times by the Den Leader.  His mom kept giving me looks,  but I don't care.  If he did what he was supposed to or if she had corrected him herself (because she saw it happen and ignored it), I would not have said a word. 

My kid is great, but if you see him making a bad decision, like talking back to an adult, then tell him to act right and tell me about it so I can get on him too.  Now I've explained to my child that if someone wants him to engage in inappropriate behavior, be it some pervert trying to touch him, telling him to kick puppies or worship Satan, etc. that he can tell them to go to hell and let me know immeditaley.  But I've also made it clear that if an adult tells him to do something that he knows he's supposed to do like pick up after himself that I expect him to listen without backtalk. 

He's a good kid, but he does make mistakes.  Like, oh say, leaving his game jersey in the tent and not realizing it until we were halfway to the game.  Actually, he never realized it, I did.   We had a loud, one-sided discussion about responsibility, which ended in me telling him that he better not miss a block or fail to wrap up a tackle or I'd have to beat his behind.  Chris and I went back to camp and got the jersey while they warmed up and we made it back about one minute into the game.  Saturday's game ended in a tie.  0 - 0.  I kept hoping the Eagles would score, but the offense was being too hesitant out there.  The good news is that Alex made a tackle so fierce that I felt bad for the kid he hit.  He broke through the line 2 other times and he was only in for 4 defensive plays.  He's starting in the next game.  I'm so proud.  He's been trying so hard all season and it seems that all the pieces finally clicked.  On a different note, I finally got the team tshirt I ordered with my baby's number on the back...with ONE game left in the regular season.  Oh well, we're in the playoffs so I have at least 2 more games to wear it...plus next year. 

Tomorrow, the Eagles are scrimmaging with the Jets.  I guess it's how they're unofficially breaking the tie.  It won't go on the record, but it's a chance for the boys to redeem themselves.  It should be a good one.  I'll keep you posted.<

Weekly-ish update

Sadly, the Eagles lost their first game this season.  The next two games are pretty much a sure win and then they're headed for the playoffs.  I'm sure we'll be seeing the b.i.g. d.o.g.s. again.  Get this...it stands for Believing in God - Depending on God's strength.  I don't think anyone's told them that the Good Lord is an Eagles fan and they're gonna get theirs in the playoffs.  They don't appreciate my chant of, ""Jesus loves the Eagles!""  Some people.

This weekend is Cub Scout Camp Out.  After football practice at 8:00p.m., we're driving to the campsite to set up in the dark.  Then we'll do the camping thing until we have to head back to Irving to play a 6:00 p.m. game on Saturday.  After that we'll go finish our camping thing until Sunday around noonish.  Now, this plan has flaws.  Believe me, I'm aware...but it's the only way I can figure to get the camp out and football in the same weekend.  Fortunately, the boy and the boyfriend are as crazy as I am and have no problem with the plan. 

I'm going to Six Flags November 11th.  Let me know if you can babysit.  My son is a chicken when it comes to big rides.  He won't even go down a big water slide.  I'd invite you to come, but you suck.   The park is closed for Chris's company and their families and whatnot.  I'm whatnot and I'm so going. 

I'm counting down the days till Thanksgiving.  I'm going to Mama's to eat good food and hang out.  I talked to Mama and I'm taking Chris.  She's cool and the old man has mellowed enough that I don't see it being an issue.  Even when he's ornery, he's not anywhere near as bad as he used to be.  That's assuming he's back from Indiana by then.  No one knows where he'll be except him and I think he even surprises himself sometimes.  Besides I have a couple of things working in our favor. 1) I'm not pregnant and 2) Chris is white.   I also think he'll score bonus points on being educated, gainfully employed and speaking coherent Spanish beyond, ""quiero tortillas"". 

I don't want to work anymore.  I'm not feeling productive no matter how much I do.  And I'm on a roll lately.  I think I need sleep.  Ok.  Good night.

Send some good luck my baby's way

Tomorrow Alex's team faces the only other undefeated team in the division.    I really don't want the boys to lose.  Yes, I know that everyone loses at one time or another.  Don't care.   I want them to win.   I want them to feel the joy of winning and being the best for a while longer. They've worked so hard.  They're confident and capable so I cross my fingers and hope.

Life teaches us all soon enough that even when you give your all, try your best, and work the hardest that you don't always get what you want.  Life's not fair.  And even when it is fair, it's not always right.  Is it wrong to want to delay that lesson a little longer? 

Say a little prayer for us.  I don't think God necessarily will throw any favor our way for a kids' football game, but it can't hurt.   Go Eagles!

My Honey

I'm sitting here alone in my office.  I'm done with my leftover spaghetti and Little Debbie Nutty Bars.  My lunch buddy has training across town and couldn't get away.  I don't mind eating alone, but I've gotten quite used to seeing him every afternoon and getting out of the office.  I got to see him all this weekend so I think I can make it through the week without joneseing.  Granted, I could have gotten out of the office today, but I brought my lunch and it seemed practical to stay here.  I've closed the doors so no one will know I'm in the building....except Scott.  He can see me from the window to the production floor.  I'm not worried though cuz he does his own thing and doesn't need me.     

After work on Friday, we met at Alex's football practice.  It was Beer-n-Burger night.  If the team wins the week before, one of the parents cooks out for the boys and the families.  I made myself the beer mom cuz they bring everything every week and I was starting to feel guility.  No, it wasn't really beer, just RC and diet Dr Pepper.  I skipped my burger this week and Chris and I went out for our ""official"" two month anniversary.  Pretty sweet.

Sadly truck started acting up after work.  Happily, My Honey took it on Saturday and had it fixed.  I felt bad about it, but he told me not to worry.  Me not worry?  Yeah, that's gonna happen.   I'm not the kind of girl who'll serve a man warm Kool-Aid to get a new refridgerator.  I did not tell him it was acting up to get him to fix it.  I'm glad it's fixed though.  But I feel guilty that he paid for it and that I probably won't have the money to pay him back for a while, assuming he ever tells me how much it was....and I know he's not going to want to be paid back, but I'll argue that when the time comes.  He's a hard-headed man who wants to take care of me.  I never wanted to be that girl, but more and more I'm coming to think it's not a bad deal.  I dunno.  I know the man's a keeper.  We'll have to work out the details as we go.

This is me whining. You may want to skip it

Alex has practice football Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, with games on Saturday.  Now he's joined Cub Scouts so my Wednesdays have gone out the window.  I don't have time for myself anymore.  It's not like I took hours at the beauty parlor and nail salon, but I find it hard even getting to Walmart for milk and whatnot.  Monday is my only flop day so I flop.  It feels like a waste of time, but I need the break.  It's only another couple of months, provided the team keeps winning.  I like football and I like that Alex is improving.  I like going to the games on Saturday.  I just wish had more than one day a week to relax.  I can't even remember what it's like to go anywhere by myself.  I remember I used to be able to go out and do stuff, but I don't know how.  I used to love the days when I could go see a movie by myself or do a little clearance shopping without hearing, "Mommy-can-you-buy-me-this?" like that's my tribal Indian name.  I'm usually rather social.  I'm not sure where this is coming from, but I know I need time to just not deal.  There's no privacy, no solitude, no moments of nothing.  It's always something.  And something is usually costing me money.  I think I need a vacation.  Maybe just a weekend to relax.  I can't have one until Thanksgiving, but I want it anyway.  And next month the Scouts are going camping.  I have to go buy a tent and check the football schedule.  We'll have to leave the campsite so Alex can play football on Saturday and then go back to camping.  I'm sure that's not how normal people go camping.  Of course, I never claimed to be normal and I can't say that I'm raising the boy to be normal either.  On behalf of Bad Parents everywhere, I would like to graciously accept the my Golden Paddle Award...  A tad dramatic, I know.  I'll thank the Academy later.  More and more I feel tired..  I'm just worn out.  Maybe I need a vitamin.  Perhaps sleep or more vegetables.  I need balance.  I always need my family, work and something else.  Something else usually entails me doing something positive for not-me.  I need to feel like I'm contributing to something.  I dunno if it's all those weekends mom volunteered us for the church bake sales, rummage sales and bingo...  It could be the Mandatory Volunteer hours that Andrean made us put in to graduate...  Either way, it's become part of how I see myself.  I give.  I do.  I take the time.  Not lately though.  Not in quite some time, really.  Anymore, I go to work.  the end.  I don't feel like what I do matters beyond paying the bills.  You get what you give.  I haven't been giving.  So look what I've got.  I don't like leaving this up in the air, but I don't have anywhere to put it just now. 

What's in a name?

The Eagles were scrimmaging against the Buccs tonight. I was sitting in my chair, sipping my diet Dr Pepper when I heard the Buccs' coach say, ""Way to go, Amadeus!" Amadeus? Really?  No.... Really now.  Really!?  He didn't look Austrian to me. 

It got me to thinking about names in general. Kris read The Omen when she was 12 and decided my nephew would be named "Damien" at least 10 years before she even met his father. I don't know if anyone remembers the "Dracula: the series", but the lead character's name was Alexander Lucard. I liked it so much, I used it for my only son. Alexander, not Lucard. His middle name, Catarino, is for my grandfather who died when I was still pregnant. Would anyone like to share the Why of their child(ren)'s name(s)? (present of future!)

Pass the sprinkles

Crybaby fat women make me want a donut so bad!  I don't know why, but I was watching Tyra tonight.  She had 2 fat chicks with self-esteem issues. Tiresome!  "Boo hoo!  I'm so fat!"; Get the hell over it.

Kris says I'm gonna burn in hell.  She said when I die and realize that I'm sizzling, not to wonder why.  I don't wonder.  I'm hilarious.  As long as I get a highlight reel of the evil things I've said, pass the butter and flip my happy ass over so I burn evenly. 

Evil Footage I'd like to watch:
(to the question to whiny fat woman, ""what does your body look like?"") It looks fat.
(to the woman at Bakers Square coughing up a lung) Have another cigarette!
(in general when trying to park) Damn cripples
(why I don't feel bad about talking shit to dumbasses) I didn't make her stupid.
(on why I take parking spaces for expectant mothers) I'm a mother.
(on why I don't contribute to charities) God knows I'm broke.
(on why I'm not in Church Sundays) God knows where I am.

In the end I hope my good acts balance out the bad.  God knows I'd rather eat my donut and watch Cindy's Funniest Smartass Videos.

It's good to be happy

I'm so happy lately that I don't know how to describe it.  First we had lunch and became friends.  I looked at the man across the table and wondered, ""why can't I find a guy like that?"" Duh.  Once I realized that I could keep my friend and have a wonderful boyfriend, happiness naturally followed.   I'm so satisfied with our relationship.  I don't expect anything....good or bad.  I just enjoy the time we have together and look forward to the next time.  I feel like I have the best guy I could possibly find.  The BEST, not just the best I can do right now.  Sometimes I wonder if he'll wise up and see that he's too good for me. 

I can't believe how much time I've wasted on relationships that have gone nowhere.  It's ridiculous how hard I've fought to keep men who I had no business being with to begin with.  I  thought that if I tried hard enough, or gave enough of myself that it could all work out.  I'm such a retard. 

It absolutely amazes me is how easy it is to be with Chris.  It's so comfortable.  At first, I told myself to hold back and wait and see.  I told myself that a couple of months isn't long enough to know.  But I'm going with it.  I know this will sound cliche, but I've never felt like this about anybody- not ever.  I think about the saying about how God brings people into your life when you're ready.  Maybe I just had to suffer through the freaks and weirdos so I can appreciate the real thing.  I have it.

Late last night and the night before...

My brain is full of everything and nothing.  I find moments like this are the best and worst time to blog.  I never know what I'll come up with.  Things just swim around in my head like a tank full of guppies.  And I hear songs in my head.  I have music going in there pretty much all the time.  If the Tommyknockers tried to read my mind it would be like the woman with the nursery rhymes or the guy with the steel plate.

Leland and Chris were in the office at the same time today and said hello to each other.  In that moment it occurred to me that I never properly introduced them.  Shame on me.  Fortunately, they're both  aware of how I am sometimes. 

At some point, I need to go shopping.  Now this point isn't going to happen until I have some money, but it has to happen.  Every year I wait to buy Christmas presents and every year I can't get everyone stuff.  I'm very lucky to be surrounded by people who aren't big on stuff, but I like to get people things I think they'll like.  I'd be much better at this gift-giving thing if I had more money.  Kris put ""winning lottery ticket"" on the list of things we need to get when we go out for milk and toilet paper.  So it's on my list of thing-a-do, now I just have to do it. 

I don't have a long weekend until Thanksgiving.  I'd very much like to see my parents and eat their food.  I was tossing around the idea of taking Chris to meet the old folks.  I don't know.  It's weird.  I'm not in the habit of introducing people to the old folks.  I don't know what's appropriate.  I know the uncles were always bringing the latest girlfriend over and I'd wonder, ""Why?""  And Mom didn't like the whole deal.  I dunno if a four day weekend is an ideal time, but I don't know about driving eight hours for a regular one.  I still have to think about it.  And ask Chris if he wants to meet my crazy family.  No one ever believes I'm the normal one until they meet the rest of the familial unit.  They're nuts.  And getting nuttier.  Juana told me today that Mom and Dad took Eric to Six Flags in San Antonio....and Dad rode all the rides.  I cannot picture it.  I can sorta picture him getting in the truck and driving there.  Sorta.  But I truly cannot imagine the old man getting buckled into a roller coaster seat. 

My brain is tired and feels deflated.  More ramblings later.

The weekend is over

The first official game of the season was Saturday.  Eagles won 30 - 0.  It was fun to watch...unless you were the Broncos.  During half-time a large, brown hawk was circling in the sky above the trees.  One of the boys said, ""Look!  An eagle!""  No one corrected him.

Afterward, we went to Chris's house and stayed there until tonight around 8:00 p.m.  We enjoyed his generous hospitality.  We played in the pool, went out to eat and hung out watching wrestling.  Good times!

I really don't want to go to work tomorrow.   I just don't know how I can make it through another day of drama and nonsense.  I've tried to keep up a positive attitude, but I'm just not feeling it.  I don't want to be one of those people who works just to make it to the next weekend.  Walking up the front steps in the morning has started to feel like a punishment.  I probably need to stop and evaluate what I'm doing versus what I want to do.  Just taking a cursory look, they don't seem to match.

Number Twenty-Four

Indiana is a basketball state.  It's the sport kids want to be good at in grade school, high school and college.  Texas is not Indiana.  Texas is a football state... actually more of a football nation.  It's a whole other world down here.  Since Alex started playing, I've learned a little more about the game.  I'm still not addicted, but I'm getting there.  Last Saturday, I was in the 98 degree sun on the bleachers cheering like I was watching the Super Bowl.  I tell you in all seriousness, these kids are talented and dedicated. 

The head coach is something out of a book...former marine with a crew cut, born and bred Texan and about 60 years old.  Says things like, ""Are you hurt or are you injured?""  ""Maybe if you got a decent hair cut, you could hit him next time.""  ""That coach hasn't won a championship since the heavyweight champion of the world was white.""  Pure old school.  He cracks me up and the boys love him. 

I am very impressed with our coaching staff.  Yes, we have a staff.  Five dedicated men who, until school started, were coming out two hours a day, 4 days a week for practice and to the games on Saturday.  And they don't get paid, they all volunteer their time and their families' time.  Now we only practice 3 days a week for an hour and a half per IBFA regulations.  And I'm learning that it's not just a game to these people.  Someone tried to get the coach in trouble by starting a rumor that our kids are still out there 2 hours or more.  I don't get it.  Someone is always complaining about the Eagles.

The team's practice jerseys all say ""HUFF 24"" in honor of our generous sponsor.  The boys look nice and during the scrimmages and pre-season game, they looked like a team, not a bunch of ragamuffins.  Someone complained about that.  They can't tell who's who and they want to scout the team to see who to watch out for come the real season.  Coaches from other teams come and sit in the stands and pump parents for information.  They ask who's the starting quarterback.  They are not amused when we tell them it's number 24.  I get a chuckle out of it every time.  No one outside the coaches and parents thinks it's funny.  Even at practice we think it's funny.  ""That number 24 is looking good today."" 

Opening ceremonies are next week and games are every Saturday.  Check the  website for info. It is password protected, but I'm not telling you here.  Shoot me an email.

I always thought it was, "buckle my shoe"

On my drive home Monday, I was listening to the radio as usual when Jessie said to be caller nine for Shinedown tickets.  I was trying to remember what songs they sang as I dialed and then won.  I then found out I also would get to meet the bands before the show.  Yay!  Chris agreed to go with me and drove us to pick up the tickets and then to the concert on Tuesday.  We were instructed to be there at 6:00, but didn't actually meet the band till 6:50.  I think there were 12 people total--6 winners plus guests.  We were already inside so I was literally front and center when the show started.  I rule!

First we met Operator.  Very cool guys...just chill, easy-going, approachable guys.  We shook hands and they signed the pictures the manager gave us.  The lead singer, Johnny, was a touch cocky, but the other guys were very cool and I was my usual goofy self and told them to look for me.  I told Phil that I was gonna yell, ""I love you, Phil"" and I wanted him to shout back, ""I love you, Cindy""  He laughed.  I was serious.  At that moment D.P. asked if I spelled my name with an I or Y at the end and wrote my name on the picture.  No one said they loved me from the stage, but I must have been memorable because I got a couple of knowing smiles and head nods during the performance.  *And* Wade handed me a guitar pick at the end of their set and shook my hand.  I felt special.  I have to go buy the cd.

Then we got to meet Shinedown.  The moment they walked out my brain started the music, ""I dare you to tell me to walk through fire.""  The logical part of my brain assured me they couldn't hear me singing in my head.  The rest of my brain knew I was liable to break into song at any moment.  I started to, but fortunately they were down the line by then and I had the sense to shut up.  I caught myself giving all kinds of compliments and I wasn't trying to kiss up, rather, I was genuinely impressed... I told Barry that I liked his lip piercing and said that no one gets it there.  He said that's ""cuz it hurts like shit"".  I told him that he looks good though so he shouldn't worry about it.  He laughed.  Then I had to say something about the shoes.  I want to be a rockstar so I can afford SHOES.  They were all Oh-they're-just-Vans, but you can tell they appreciated that I noticed.  Barry gave me a drumstick at the end of the show.  I told Chris, ""Look! I caught it!""  He said, ""If by caught you mean you closed your hand when he placed the drumstick there, then yes, honey, you caught it.""  Men.

I can't remember who the first act was...they were good though.  They did a Beatle's cover.  It was strange, but good.  Then Operator played.  They sounded amazing, but I didn't know any of the songs except the GNR cover.  Johnny would talk between songs and engage the audience.  At one point he started talking about people didn't want to be there and said he'd give a two-count and wanted the audience to tell them, ""fuck you!""  So the music was going and his head was bobbing and he said ""ONE!TWO!"" to which the audience responded ""Fuck You!""  And he did it again and again, each time with a little more enthusiasm.  I then realized I was pointing and shouting ""FUCK YOU!"" and started laughing.  I'm not cool enough to be hard rock, but now when people piss me off, I'm just gonna start counting to two and smile.

Shinedown played and I knew about 5 songs, but I have a whole new respect for them.  They threw down.  And there was the usual bullshit happening when it's just a sea of humanity.  When the pushing started, Brent went over to that side of the stage and asked if everyone was cool.  Then it started again and he just stopped singing.  Just stood there and watched the nonsense and told them to cut it out.  The third time it happened, security was on that shit and threw a couple of people out.  Brent got into the crowd to break it up.  I really respect that, especially after being manhandled and abused during the Morrissey show where nobody working the show did a damn thing to stop it.  The House of Blues is anal about cameras and whatnot, but they also don't put up with crap.  I had a really great time and thoroughly enjoyed the show. 

I imagine if I had blogged right after the show, I'd have better details to share, but I just haven't been up to it.  I'd recommend seeing the show if you can.  I'd go again if I could.

Logic and Emotion

First, there's what I know... I've learned that holding a grudge and being bitter only makes me tired and cranky, but the person I'm mad at is usually too stupid or self-absorbed to give a shit.  I've also learned that stressing over things I can't control is a waste of my time, makes me eat bad things late at night, keeps me from sleeping and gives me the BG's.  (tmi-- butterflies ) 

Second, there's what I feel... I'm an emotional person.  I'm not gonna go all Alexander Pope and tell you I feel more than other people, but I freely admit that I feel stuff and I can't help but show it.  I laugh right out loud, I cry at the drop of a hat, I get so mad that I get physically hot and start sweating.

Sometimes I have trouble with what I know conflicting with what I feel.  Yesterday was my baby's birthday.  Do you think his daddy so much as called him on the phone?  Do you think he's so much as called him since he moved in with whoever he thinks he's in love with this week?   I know I brought him into this family and he's very charming at times and most of you buy into it being genuine.  I'm not sure if he's on drugs or what.  He stopped showing up at the job Kris got him.  Several months ago, he said good-bye to his son through the bathroom door and lied about going back to Indiana.  One of the Cubscout parents saw him walking in our neighborhood not too long ago and asked me how he's doing.  His parents called me to ask about him.  I tell them all the truth.  I don't know.  For months now he's decided to treat me like I don't exist, screw Kris over on the money he owes her and forget about the fact that he has a son...except to show people pictures of how he used to pretend to be a good father.

And I'm sure one of you will go running to him and tell him these things I think.  I won't mention names, though he tells me when you go behind my back to him.  I don't know why he thinks that gives him merit.  Disloyalty is depressing, but I know the fact that he's funny and likes to be the center of attention is more important to some of you than the fact that I'm your family.  It's true that I don't say anything about his retarded ass that I wouldn't say to him, but I'd just as soon not deal with him at all.

I know that I can't control what he does, or doesn't do.  I know eventually he'll figure out a piece of ass is not more important than his child.  I know that at some point, he'll look back at his empty life and wish he had memories of his son.  I know that Alex will figure out his father is an asshole without me saying a word.  I know I am powerless to change any of these things, but it wears me out nonetheless.  It makes me mad and sad and frustrated.   If Alex had to  depend on his father to provide for him, he would have starved to death homeless and naked a long time ago. 

I will continue raising my son as well as I can.  I will take comfort in the fact that he's a fabulous kid and I couldn't imagine better.  He has me and his aunts and grandparents and cousins.  I know it...and I have a feeling he'll turn out more than great.

Excuse me...

It's Alex's birthday! 

My baby is ten years old.  Double digits, baby!   Doesn't that just blow your mind?  I'll have him turn his cell phone on when we get home so you can call your favorite cousin / nephew / friend's kid.

My Husband is smoking crack

I went to Ticketmaster to see when Bon Jovi is touring.  It appears they're playing in New Jersey until November.  Out of curiousity I checked to see how much tickets are.  Ready?  No, you're not.  I know I wasn't.  Floor seats are $303 each plus the Ticketmaster fee.  Looks like I won't be seeing Jon and the boys afterall.

My Lunch Buddy is Cooler than Yours

I have a lunch buddy.  His name is Chris.  I see him pretty much everyday now.  Almost exactly at 1:00 p.m., he saunters into my office and sits on (what is now) his chair.  I look forward to seeing his face and it's not just because he gets me out of the office.  Some people think 'lunch' is code for 'nooner' because some people are starving at dinner time.  For me, lunch is lunch.  A girl has to eat.

That said, our friendship has undergone a status upgrade.  I'm sure it's not the world's first accidental relationship.  It just fell into place.  It makes perfect sense really.  He hooked up his VCR to watch Fight Club with me.  He makes an effort to see me and work around my schedule.  Now any man will do that for a booty call, but how many will do it for just lunch?

Damned if you do, Fucked if you don't

I was forced to choose between my loyalty to my boss and my loyalty to this company.  I chose the company to keep my job, but I don't think I want it now.  In fact, I could quit my job without a whole lot of regret at this moment.   I feel physically sick over the whole mess.

Steel toed motivation

From time to time, I've realized that things in my life needed to change.  I made a conscious decision to not be shy.  It took a great deal of effort on my part initially, but I'm much happier being extroverted.  While I maintain a very Black and White view of the world, I now make allowances for the existence of Grey sometimes.  That was another deliberate decision on my part.  I know these things may not seem like big deals to the casual observer, but trust me, HUGE deals.

 

It's hard for me to change.  I don't like to change, but for a while there I went through this stage where I decided to be more accepting of stuff and I've been pretty good about keeping it up.  It was an effort to open myself up to things I may have been missing.   I'm a close-minded liberal.  Weird, I know, but so true.  So I opened myself up to different kinds of people who I otherwise may have overlooked or even snubbed. 

 

In a few cases, that's worked out really well.  However, in my personal life, not only have I opened myself up to men who are outside my norm, in some respects, I've just lowered my standards.  I've made allowances and put up with things that make no sense.  If someone I know and loved told me they were dealing with some of the crap I've accepted in their relationships, I'd tell them not to tolerate that shit.  I realize that I've spent way too much time pissed off and confused...and that's just not who I am.   I don't know when I made the move from accepting different to accepting bullshit, but it ends now.   As my loving sister told me, at times I need a push…with a heavy boot…in the butt.  Both cheeks are sufficiently bruised.  I'm moving on.

Put on your GAME FACE

Practice on Thursday and Friday was rough on my baby.  This morning, he really did not want to get up to be there at 8:00 a.m.  I got him up anyway.  Today's conditioning looked to be the most intensive yet.  He came through smiling and excited about doing it again.  He's getting the drills down and he understands the importance of practice, even if he hates mornings as much as I do.  After practice we went around thrift stores looking for gear.  We didn't find anything that fit that wasn't broken and we went to five different thrift stores. 

Fortunately, about the time I was considering donating plasma, I found out our equipment purchases were being subsidized by my generous family and I could actually afford to get everything he needed and still afford food.  We spent hours at The Academy finding everything he needed.  The pants were an adventure.  We tried every brand with builti-in pads and the ones that had to be purchased seperately and they were either too small or too big.  I looked at the clearance rack of baseball pants and like a miracle, I found 2 pairs of football pants that ended up fitting perfectly for $2.08 a pair. 

Now that he's outfitted, he's even more excited about playing.  Last year the team were city champs.  I'm glad he'll be on a winning team.  Once uniforms come in, I'll put up pictures.  And if you're interested, I still have plenty of raffle tickets left.

You're my boy, Blue!

As you may know, while at dinner yesterday, this guy came up to us and asked how old Alex is and if he plays football.  Alex was very excited at the idea of wearing a uniform and playing on a team.  He plays indoors at the gym, but never outside in the Texas heat.  I was concerned and I had questions.  I thought about signing Alex up before, but the sign up fee was $85, plus you have to buy all the equipment, which is a lot of money for my broke butt.  But this guy assured me that all I have to buy is practice pants, pads and a pair of cleats.  With my baby all hopeful and no huge fee, I said yes.  The boy is built like a lineman so I'm interested to see how he does.

Tonight was the first practice and it rained the entire time.  Wow.  It was like watching professional training camp on tv.  The coach had them working.  He's not psycho, he let them take water breaks, but he's serious.  He's not obnoxiously loud or rude, but he is authoratative.  He's probably around 60 and pretty much what you'd expect a football coach to look and sound like in Texas. 

Alex was worn out.  He asked if he could quit, but one of the moms said it's only like that the first few times to get them conditioned and decide who'll play what position.  I'm gonna make him stick it out.  I think it will toughen him up a bit because I know I baby him too much.  I also think I'm gonna walk around the park instead of watching practice because all I want to do is tell the coach to lighten up.  I know it's for his own good, but that's my baby and he's not used to that.  Maybe we'll both thin out a little.  Practice is M, T, R, F from 6:30-8:30 until school starts and then it ends at 8:00.  I seem to have signed off my Friday nights for the next few months.  Just when I was finally getting used to having them to myself and doing stuff.  Ah well...

It turns out that Michael Huff sponsored our team.  He cut a check for the boys' fees, uniforms, helmets and practice jerseys.  Pretty cool, huh?  He started training camp today so he couldn't come say hi to the kids, but he may at some point.  I understand he owns a condo in the area.  

I have to see if I can find a Play it Again Sports around here.  Yes, I'm cheap, but if you saw how fast this boy is growing, you wouldn't blame me.  Plus I need to have the stuff by Monday and payday isn't until Tuesday.  Games will be on Saturdays if anyone wants to come.  Oh.  Does anybody want to buy a $2 raffle ticket?

Smile like you mean it

Gosh I'm tired.  Scott's on vacation this week and I was drafted to pull orders.   I'm used to sitting at my desk for most of the day.  I usually get up for coffee and potty breaks and to check product availability for the occassional impatient, but important customer.  The past two days, I've walked more than I've walked in the past two weeks.  And there's squatting and reaching; I'm surprised my back isn't acting up.  I suppose I should be happy, or least thankful, for the workout.  I'm not exactly excited about the rest of the week.  I've still been doing my own job as I go.  Thankfully, I don't have any big projects right now.  I can't help but hope for a bonus on my paycheck although I know it won't happen.  I may hint at it tomorrow.  Pfft.  I can't hint.  I'm gonna come out and say it and try to have a smile in my voice. 

I've discovered that smiling helps me get what I want.  I know that sounds kind of sociopathic, but it's true.  I wasn't a smiler by nature.  It took years of teachers bitching and my friends telling me I looked pissed off.  I had to start smiling just so people would leave me alone because I felt fine.  Although I did get annoyed being asked a hundred times a day if I was okay.  Now I smile more.  Too much some say, but can't please all the people yadda blah.  Once I started smiling, I found that people warmed up to me and became far more cooperative.  I also found that I now have wrinkles around my eyes. 

I have more wrinkles than my mom.  It's to be expected though, as my dad is full of wrinkles...and thick, flowing white hair.  I hope one day I have hair just like that.  Sadly, I think that day is coming all too soon.  I pulled out about fifteen to twenty white hairs yesterday from an area of my head smaller than my palm.  It's the strangest thing.  I look like the old woman, but my body acts more like the old man. 

I'm tired and stressed.  I need to de-stress.  I took a nap and it helped some.  I think I may call the massage school by work and see if they can sneak me in during my lunch hour.  Can you eat a cheeseburger while being massaged?  That sounds good.  A roll rub and beer-battered onion rings would make me smile genuinely.  Who's in?

Mixed Bag Blog

I touched up Alex's hair today.  The color is only semi-permanent and he's been to the pool and a waterpark so it was faded to a pale blue.  I did a top-notch job this time.  I used a new toothbrush to do the sides of his head.  It gave even coverage, gave me control over the edges and didn't leave splotches on his scalp like my fingers did the first time.

Generically speaking, I like change, but not transition.  I'm experiencing quite a bit though - work, friends, habits, whatnot. blah.  This too shall pass...

I bought a new dress *and* matching shoes.  I rarely buy myself new stuff.  I'm mostly ok with it cuz A) I love funky retro stuff  B) The dress was on clearance for $7.00 -and- C) I was darn cute in it.

I made a new friend.  Not a dating thing, just someone to hang with at lunch.  He's very easy to talk to and we've both disclosed quite a bit about ourselves. ""Strangers with this kind of honesty make me grow a big, rubbery one.""  I think I make him nervous.  We've had lunch twice though so he's either getting comfortable or he's scared of what I'll do.

I love public television.  I'm watching a Dashboard Confessional concert for free.  (seems thier fans are all chicks)  Between stuff like that and Sesame Street, who needs cable?

I just noticed that I have exactly100 kudos.  Thanks.  Back at ya!

My baby is COLORFFUL

I told Alex before he left that he could have blue hair when he came back from Mama's house.  He's held me to it.  We just got done rinsing the bleach out.  I currently have a blonde-haired, green-eyed child.  I never would have imagined that it was possible 

White as he is, he can pull off the blonde if he really wanted to.  Despite my encouragment, he really wants to go blue.  Perhaps it was the Eminem comment, I would have said David Bowie, but he wouldn't have gotten the reference. 

As soon as his hair is completely dry, we'll be putting the blue in.  Stay tuned for before, middle and after pics.

B4 - no bingo

Kris and I went to a pool party this afternoon.  I need to make friends with more people who have their own pool.  I also need to learn how to swim still.  We left kinda early because I had to pick up Alex at the airport. 

Had I checked my messages, I would have known his flight was delayed 2 hours.  I went to the airport and they switched gates three times.  The third time, I had not checked the board because I didn't think they'd do it again.  Alex called me to let me know he was at B5.  I was all over B5 before I spotted him waving to me from B4.  As I ran over to him, my phone rang and they asked for Maria Reyes.  I said, ""I don't know who the hell that is"" and was about to hang up when he asked for me.  I hugged my baby and asked who the guy on the phone was.  He said he was calling from American Airlines and he had my son.  I told him I had my son and he looked up at me and hung up. 

So, my baby's home!  Yay!  I won't be able to go out as much and be as social, but I'm still available from 7:15-10:30ish on Fridays.  And of course, I've got an hour for lunch during the week.  If that doesn't work for you, you'll have to be satisfied with emails, phone calls and blog postings.

Comparable?

I used to be quite the comparison shopper.  Size, price, ounces per container, pennies per ounce... While I'm still a bargain-shopping penny-pincher, I don't do it as much anymore.  I've found the things I like the best and get them.  I splurge on Miracle Whip because Kroger brand salad dressing and sandwich spread is just not as tasty.  Yes, it's twenty cents more, but it's worth it.  I don't do comparisons on peanut butter or laundery detergent because no matter what, I'm getting what I want...Jiff and Tide.  Now that I'm getting old and settling into lifelong habits, I didn't think I'd start a whole new comparison process, but I caught myself doing just that tonight. 

I was out tonight with NewBoy and as we walk inside he kinda pushed the door so I could catch it as I walked in behind him.  J always held the door for me.  (Side note: It occurs to me that all the men I really cared about names' start with J) I admonished myself for making a comparison between past and present persons, but I kept thinking it.  Then as we were having dinner, NewBoy took food off my plate without asking.  Three times.  J never would have done that...though J did all the damn time.  As we wandered through the arcade, I reached for his hand and he put it in his pocket.  I actually mis-stepped.  I couldn't believe it.  I dated the most societally aware person on the planet and he had no problem holding my hand.  -Get a grip, Cindy.-  And he was way better looking than you, buddy. Yeah, I thought that one really loud.   I told myself to stop doing that.  It's a bad habit to start and I don't know why I'm doing it now. This is the kind of crap that dooms relationships before they can even start and yet I did it all night.  I don't know how much of this is about him and how much is about me.  I've been rather introspective.  I don't make a lot of sense in a lot of ways.  Mostly I'm ok with that, but tonight I wonder if that's not why I'm alone.

I'm not as young as I used to be

I haven't gone out on a Monday night in quite some time.  As I sit here trying to get enough coffee in my system to make sense, I remember why. 

I got online last night and Lori sent me a message asking what I was doing.  I was doing what I do every Monday, thinking about doing laundery and not doing it.  Her friend, Jason was playing at Adair's, which is a hole in the wall country bar in Deep Ellum.  We went, had a beer, shot the shit and listened to some music.  I'm not a big country fan, but the guys performing were very good so I enjoyed it.  I also met Jason's friend, Jason.  No problem remembering names there.  I had lots of fun, but since I had to be here at 8 a.m.(ish), I got up to go around midnight.

As I went to leave, I realized that I didn't know where my keys were.  I double and triple checked my purse, all the while knowing that I must have locked them in the truck.  And I remembered locking the door, which I do 90% of the time. AND I remembered rollin up the windows, which I rarely ever did, but I have for the past 2 weeks with all the rain every damn day.  I walk out and sure enough, they're dangling from the ignition.  I consider waking up Kris, but I can hear her snoring in my head.  So I get a hanger from the back of my truck and try to squeeze my hand into the less than 2"" crack I left open.  I managed, but I couldn't reach the lock and then I dropped the hanger.  Fortunately, I have a small yard sale in the back of my truck so I got another.  I look around and wonder where the police are and if they'll believe my Mexican ass is breaking into my own vehicle.  I unwound the hanger and lengthened the hook.  I took a deep breath, channeled Eric's crane machine skills and went after the keys.  After 4 or 5 tries, I finally hooked them.  I prayed not to drop them as I pulled them out through the window.  I got them out, did a little dance and took myself home. 

It's been a rough morning, but I think my caffeine is kicking in so I can actually get some work done now. 

FYI:  I'm off Wednesday if anyone wants to go out tonight.

He remembered he has a mother

The other day, I was leaving my friend's house and I was doing a check to make sure I had everything.  It was the same check Alex and I do every morning before we leave the house.  "Got my glasses, got my phone, got my keys, got my purse," and then I had to stop myself because the final thing on the checklist is "got my kid."  It made me so sad.  It's just me being selfish because by his own report he's having a great time. I've been going out almost every night.  It's kept my mind off missing him so much.  He finally called me today at work.  He and my mom witnessed the end of a car chase with the police where the truck flipped over.  They took pictures of the guy being arrested.  I guess he called again while I was at lunch.  According to his last voicemail, he and Mama were at Walgreen's getting their pictures developed to sell to a reporter from the newspaper.  I called him back, but he didn't answer his phone and he doesn't have voicemail on his Migo.  I'm sure I'll hear all about it.   He'll be back in a week, no doubt full of homemade tortillas, funny stories and accompanying photos.  I can't wait to read his byline.

off the high horse and into the gutter

The following is an email exchange.   Note how I go from beautiful to average to ugly in just seconds.  These are in readable order.  I obviously did not correct for spelling or grammar.

 

*******************************************************

michael  wrote:

Hello how are you,my name is Michael and i liked what you said on your (redacted) ad.Well i dont know what your age range is but im 38,never been maried and i do have one son.I will tell you a little bit about me.Im a white handsome male,6ft 220 lbs short blonde hair blue eyes,i dont smoke and drink very little if any.I do have a preference towards women i do love plus sized or bbw only and im proud of it.Also i prefer somene who is mexican or hispanic.Im a very out going person,well liked and nice to be around.I dont play games and im looking for something Long Term.I dont do bars or clubs,its just not my style,but if im out with that special someone i will go where she wants to go.Well i do have a pic if you want to see it go to www.myspace.com/busaman007 well i guess if you like then i would like to hear from you have a great day, Beautiful

Michael

 

cindy  wrote:

Hi there.  Your myspace page looks like you have your hands full with a couple of different women.

 

michael wrote:

Hey i have like 7 friends on there,and is that going to keep me from getting to know your better as a person,they are just friends.Im not like most people that have 20 or more friends on there.Well i would just like a chance with you,if you cant offer that then you must not be that interested in finding a good man have a great day

 

cindy  wrote:

I have over 40 friends, but none of them want to play naked twister or leave messages containing sexual innuendo.  Your high horse does not impress me.

 

Michael wrote:

Well i guess your really not looking for a good man then.I wont send you anymore emails after this.Your playing hard to get,and your not worth it.What it really boils down to is,your jealous that i do have some Beautiful women on there and your just a average women who thinks she is all that but in all realality your not shit.The reason why your single is cause another man got tired of your same old shit and dump you.NOW YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH BEING SINGLE AND TRYING TO FIND SOMEONE THAT WILL LIKE YOU,WELL GOOD LUCK.Also if you send me a reply back i wont even read it,I WILL JUST DELETE IT SO DONT TRY IT.Well u can stay on that high horse,and maybe thats what you need is a horse cause your a cow.You just Wish you were Beautiful like the women i have on there.Stay FAT,UGLY AND SINGLE.

********************************************************

I sent him one more email and told him to have a great day.  I don't play hard to get.  I go right after what I want, I'm aggressive that way.  But I don't want some fool who thinks it's ok to play me for a dumbass.  He's obviously special....like the Olympics.  That one chick loves him.  I don't compete for men as hot as Brad Pitt, I'm sure as hell not competing for an old, childish, inbred, backwards, backwoods, redneck, bald man.  Yes, I want a good man that's why I'm NOT going for him.  As for liking big girls, he sure did use the word ""fat"" like it was an insult.  And single is not a bad thing.  Not knowing how to spell ""you're"", that's a bad thing.  Desperation to be with someone because you can't stand yourself, that's a bad thing.  Pretending to be nice for 30 seconds when you're a 24-hour asshole, that's a bad thing.  Thinking I can be played, well, that's just assinine.

...and I never learn

Went out last night with yet another winner. First of all, he's been calling and IMing me all week.  I told him after three days that he was a bug-a-boo, hence my current music video.   He said he'd stop bothering me at work.  After that he'd send me messages saying that he just wanted to say hi, but not bother me.  Sadly, I agreed to meet with him *before* I knew all that crap would ensue.  I thought about cancelling several times, but figured 1) It was a free meal  and  2) He would probably do better in person.  I was half right. 

He picked a place to meet and said I'd like it.  He had never met me.  I was stuck in traffic for over an hour.  I hate that shit.  Then I get there and it is SO LOUD.  It's a restaurant with a tv at each table.  WTH?   Music, tv, people talking and my head throbbing from traffic.  A.D.D. hell.  He had summer teeth...some were here, some were there...his mouth was a hot mess and I could smell his rank breath across the table.

There's more, but that's already too much.  He's graciously deleted himself from my friends list.  Probably after I used the words ""incessant and relentless"" to describe what he did wrong.  Hey...he asked.

I just don't listen

I told my sister I was looking for a man online.   She mocked me.   She said:

No strings = married
Handsome = average
Average-looking = Ugly
A few pounds = a few pounds plus 50lbs
40ish = 63 +/- 2 years
$50,000-$75,000 salary = working at Burger King
Love kids = has 5 kids with 4 different women
Love sports = sit in front of the TV all weekend watching them
Educated = read a book once
Some college = thought about going once
Out-going = flirt with anything that has breasts
Family-oriented = a mama's boy
Looking for LTR = I'll take you on TWO dates before expecting sex

*******************************************
I scoffed at her cynicism, rolled my eyes at her jaded attitude and went about browsing personal ads.

I went out for a drink last night with a man who said he was about my age and then during the course of our conversation said his gf became pregnant when he was 44. His son is now 8 years old. Um. 52 is not around 31...it's just not...at all.

He also said he was around 5'9"".  I'm 5'4"" and we were eye to eye. I don't think I grew five inches without noticing. He said he was average build, but was fatter than I am.

He said he was a gentleman and could understand women. He didn't understand I was trying to leave and came at me tongue first to say goodbye. I hope my shampoo tasted good.

If you meet in person the truth will come out. I tell you very honestly that I am short, I am fat, I am Mexican and I am cute.   I can't imagine what men actually think I look like  when so many lie so much. I'm just a normal fat chick looking for a date. I don't need a man to pay my bills. I don't want to meet at a hotel. Just a date. I guess that's just way too much to ask.

It's funny cuz it's true

In case you didn't know, I'm a terrible driver.  I've never denied it.  In fact, it's one of the first things I tell people.  I can't drive in the lines.  I can't pick a speed unless I have cruise control.  Once I set the cruise control, I'd almost rather rear-end someone than slow down.  When I turn, I usually hit the curb.  I'll usually call someone a crackhead at least once every ten miles.  Road rage--I'm glad to have a name for the absolute fury I feel at the dumbass who cut me off.  I LOVE to speed love, love, love...driving fast is pure pleasure.  I have a whole slew of tickets to prove it.  When I lived in Indiana and worked for the lawfirm, it never bothered me.  I'd type up the deferral myself.  Sadly, I have no such connections in Texas so I've had to slow down.    I don't know why I'm like this.  I took driver's ed.  I know the rules of the road.  I also could really care less.  A stop sign = a full and complete stop Yeah..um...pause briefly, check for cops, keep rolling.  Good times!  I tell everyone I'm a bad driver, but they never really believe me until they've experienced it first hand.  Everytime someone rides in my truck I'll see them grasping for something, sometimes with two hands, near the top of the passenger side window.  I finally asked one particularly grabby person what the hell they were doing.  They said were reaching for the oh-shit bar.  My truck doesn't have one. I don't feel bad especially for repeat passengers because I give the disclaimer before I make them buckle up.  Those same people *cough* *kris* *cough* ask me to drive when we go somewhere.  And then, blog about it like she didn't know.   

Consider yourself warned.  I'll be the designated driver, I'd much rather drive than drink, but that's not to say I'm a better driver sober than you might be drunk.  I just won't get arrested for DUI.

violence and alcohol

I've had to do a lot of work in the past two days after not doing a whole hell of a lot for past two weeks.  It's taken a toll on me.  I'm ready to kick John S. in the face with my golf cleats.  Ok...I don't actually own golf cleats and he's 6'3"" and I'm 5'4"" so I probably couldn't reach.  Hmm.  I'll go to the thrift store and get some golf cleats and wait till he's sitting down...and *then* I'll kick him in the face.

I'm so glad today is Friday...and I took Monday off.  Yay!  Go me!  Uh-huh! I need a frozen margarita and a massage.  If you can provide either, call me.

You're breaking my balls, man

(The title is my Cartman impression when he was selling fetuses)

All I want is to be a little evil! That's it!  Just the teeniest bit...a teensy-weensy itty-bitty bit evil.  Not a lot.  I could explain why I want to be evil and how and you might even chuckle.  Alas, the one person who would help me sharpen my pitchfork, isn't speaking to me.  Or I'm not speaking to him.... I'm not speaking to him.  God, help me...It's killing me.  It's not easy doing the right thing....even when the right thing is minding my own business.  All I have to do is not think about it.  I have the beginnings of a plan in my head and everything, several plans, really.  Garrrrrr....  Is it wrong to want to make someone feel stupid?  I suppose it is.  *sigh*  It is.  I still want to.

I need to go to church.  I need to go volunteer somewhere and do something positive.  I need to stick it to that bi....  No, no, no.  Happy thoughts.  Field of flowers. Floating Bubbles.  Butterflies.  Yeah...Butterflies!

Date, Not-Date...

I was supposed to go to a movie tonight with Joe--first date.  He never called.  I think he hurt his feelings. He asked if he could come over last night and watch a movie.  I don't know why he didn't understand.  The way I see it is that I don't really know him so there's no reason my son should meet him.  PLUS this guy invited himself over before the first date.  It was like he thought getting in my apartment meant getting in my pants.  I made it clear that was happening either.  Now I told him everything as nicely as I could, but I knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear.  When we hung up, he said he'd call to discuss show times and whatnot.  I wasn't exactly shocked when the phone didn't ring...I was relieved actually.   I don't need stalkers or drama.  Of course I had already agreed to Tuesday before I went out last Friday or I wouldn't have agreed to anything.

I went out last Friday night to Sterling's in Lewisville with Bobby.  I'd never been there...very casual...pool tables, poker, dart boards, full bar and room to just hang out.  We hung out and talked for a few hours.  (I had to be back in Irving by 11:00 p.m.)  The conversation was comfortable and the night flew by.  He paid for all my cokes. He seems sane and is funny and cute.  He walked me to my truck and gave me a hug at the end of the night.  Bonus points.  Plus he checked to make sure I got home safely that night and called the next day.  Double bonus points. >  It's early...yet I am cautiously optimistic.  If nothing else, I've made a new friend.

Forest Whitaker is the man

I just got done watching The Last King of Scotland.  Wow!  That movie was worth watching.  I didn't know anything about Uganda during the 70s so this was both entertaining and informative.  Brilliant.  Just brilliant.  I imagine Szot will show it in his cultural geography class, if he has time, when he covers Africa.   And now I have a new crush.   James McAvoy is much hotter here than as the faun in Narnia.  It took me the whole movie to place the face.  (It was hard without the horns and hooves)  If you find yourself wandering around Hollywood Video without any ideas, pick this one up. 

Oh, and Pan's Labyrinth is on dvd, as well.  I didn't rent it because I plan on buying that one...or you can buy it for my half-birthday this month.  Yes, it's in Spanish.  Yes, it's long.  See it.  It's a wonderful, ORIGINAL story.  I cried.  (Don't listen to Juana--I don't cry at every movie)