Maybe I'm a little crazy, but laughing aloud makes it all alright....

I was just sitting out on the deck in the breezy ass shade enjoying a little me time with my lover boy Dave Matthews.
I started to spontaneously bawl, like I am prone to doing when I listen to my boys and then, imagine that, I felt a blog coming on....
The thing about the Dave Matthews Band is that their music is the soundtrack to my life.
I am so grateful to have born in time with Dave, what if I had not been here for this music?
Oh my God tragic beyond words.
The reasons that I love this band are so complex I am fairly certain I couldn't cover it all unless I wrote an emotion based piece on each and every song they have ever recorded.
Each and every song is monumental to me.
Sure Dave is the most powerful lyricist of all time, sure his lyrics are intricate short stories, epiphanies, poems... yeah no doubt there.
But the lyrics are only on piece of the layers and layers and layers that these musicians lay down every time they collaborate.
They all bring something so fantastically beautiful and unique to the table, when it all gets grooved together, this piece here, this piece there - well holy hell its explosive, orgasmic, cosmic even.
Individually they're sounds and styles are so unique that even when all instruments are wailing, you can pick each boy out - hear his flavor loud and clear.
In fact, my body has a hard time figuring out how to move to all the sounds - usually every inch of me is going in a different direction, head is the base, toes are the high hat - heels are the base drum, hips are the sax, fingers are the violin and my shoulders belong to Dave's rhythm guitar...
Forget it when I have to contend with Rashawn's trumpet or with Tim's screaming electric...
I look like I am having a seizure and I don't give a flying fuck, I love the way it feels.
Dave and the boys get to all my shakras - open wide my dear...
Honestly I can't handle it, this music stimulates me in a way that nothing else does and I am positively sure that nothing else ever will move me quite this way.
I have met Dave many times in person - I dare say he and I are cut from the same pattern.
He is as wrong as I am which makes us right in every way - he gets right to the heart of every matter and alike myself, says it clearly and with little regard for how it may, or may not be perceived.
I don't know exactly how I feel about the concept of an all knowing perfect God, but I do believe with the whole of my own heart and soul that if there is a heavenly perfection - this music is what it sounds like.
My piece of heaven here and now for sure.
The music is pure and raw - it elevates.
Just now as I sit typing I noticed how green the trees are, as Dave says "not falling like rolling around" - he makes the colors seem rich, more dense, everything is saturated when he sings.
If Dave is the green of the tree, than carter is my heart beat and Stephan is the pace of the breeze, Boyd is the soaring bird and leroi, well he is the sunshine and all it's glowing warmth.
That's the way it works for me.
And why would you cut the wings of a butterfly if you never flew?
For just a taste you could own me.
Save your sermons for someone who's afraid to love....
I mean really. Really.
Years back, I heard the song #41 for the first time...It is my personal anthem and it is a story of the turmoil and beauty of my existence. That song is me.
I remember the first time I heard it as if it were yesterday - I cried and cried and cried and thought no more perfect piece of music had ever been composed.
It is where I go when I am most alive whether with misery or joy and most especially in the mingling of the two - which BTW is kinda the theme of my life...
I block out the world and get my IPOD and scroll down to which ever version seems most fitting and I go away, as away as a girl can get while still being present and accounted for.
My family, my friends, my children will see me clear as day long after I am gone when they hear that song - I will be a IPOD scroll away from them at all times.
They will see my hips move like fluid at the kitchen sink while I do dishes.
They will see my arms waving above my head in ecstatic joy at all the concerts we have been to together.
They will hear my laughter in the open high rattle.
They will hear my screams in the first brilliant culmination of sounds.
They will hear my voice when Dave sings "I will go in this way and find my own way out"
They will see my smile over and over in Leroi's repeat dadadadada...
And they will remember that I will always bring water, melt into wonder and come praying for them even in the splash of tears when they fall all over them.
Yes, you can find me there.
And just now, say goodbye started....
Never a more perfect beginning to a song - the flute tickles and the drum beat rolls.
Sounds like forbidden sex to me....And that's what is amazing - they make the words come alive, the music sound like sexual desire creeping up heavy.
if I were to be lovers just for tonight, this one night, tangled and twisted up like secret creatures - um yeah this song is what it would sound like I just know it...Ah we kiss and sweat, all we can offer all, tangled tongues and lips - turning and turning for you.
Yeah the song sounds like the passion feels as it rises up uncontrollably in your chest and your heart flips over with anticipation, your lust making you become someone else.
Not that I know or anything...
HOW DO THEY DO THAT???
say ya will....????
Oh I will Dave don't you worry.
A thing or two I have to say here - Oh lover, just for an evening oh lets strip down, trip out at this one evening starts with a kiss and awayyyyy then tomorrow back to being friends - BUT NOW LOVERS - LOVE YOU , just for tonight one night,
love you....and tomorrow say goodbye (high and soft)
YOWZA.
Okay well I could go on and on here - like I said, I could react for pages to each and every song.
I think I should stop before I get too distracted and lose my focus for the remaining day...
Maybe I'm a little crazy - you and me both Dave, you and me both....

Sara time...

Good late evening approaching early morning to you all,
Who are you all anyways - as I approach 3000 hits, I wonder hmmmmm, who really reads these???
I am feisty as hell tonight fyi, it's the combo of some serious margaritas and dinner with an old friend - a dear, beautiful, perfect friend....
I have a buzz so significant from this evening I should probably not be doing this - will anyone understand or be able to decipher my ramble?
I don't know - I guess as they say, we shall see....
I will say, point blank - clear and concise, my ass cheeks are burnt to an ever loving crisp, and right now in this very moment, it hurts to sit on my ass.
My dermatologist would be super pissed off if he saw my skin in this ridiculous hue of IDK red maybe, like lobster red - a big, plump red Maine lobstah.
Speaking of Maine - WTF Boston BRUINS???
Not a real New Englander if you don't suffer the wrath of professional sports teams teasers and hair pullers. It's what we do, suffer and throw shit at the T.V. while screaming the "F" word and eventually conceding, "there is always next year"
Had dinner tonight with a hockey lover from way back - my California girl SARA D.
She is as Katy Perry sings - undeniable.
My girl was home for a quick VAC-A and I was lucky enough to steal her way from the Charlottesville masses to have her all to myself.
Ahhh friendship that stands the test of time - what a beautiful gift - to say the absolute least.
When she and I first met, it was over twelve years ago and she was a wee young lass - a high schooler if my memory serves me right (which btw, it usually does)
I can honestly say that Miss Sara has changed little in appearance in the twelve years of our enduring love affair - she is as breath takingly beautiful now as she was back then.
Cute as a button, full of sass and pure bad ass from the word go.
Go figure we got on so well.....
Tonight we had margaritas and pina colada's and conversation about life and all it's what if's - the shaken snow globe - the disillusionment - the confusion - the "I don't know what the fuck I am doing's"...
Good stuff those raw heart to hearts - and we as friends, but me with a significant age edge and a Mother's sensibility...
I told her that my world religions class has changed my out-look on life - it's NOW I now worry about, NOW is what matters and even if now seems confusing - you call the shots...All the shots - you are in the drivers seat.
I hope that my advice comes in handy to those whom I love. I hope I never share something that should stay in my head - whatever the case, right or wrong advice, Sara knows I am in it for the long haul - when this phase ends - on to the next one, on on to the next.
She told me she was proud of me for school - that means the world coming from a brilliant go getter like herself - she is someone I always have in the back of my mind when I cross shit off my to-do list - done Sara. D - cross it off.
I told her tonight that her father's painting, the one she literally took clean off the wall when I said I loved it - that painting has served as a reminder to me, every day of my life, to go get my shit in order and break the cycle of dysfunction.
I think I saw that girl tear up - think it hit her hard to know that she lives in my head and heart every single time my eyes gaze upon the colors put to canvas that she passed on to me with absolutely no hesitation.
People mean something to me. She means something to me. I don't do the people thing casually - you make an impression on me, it gets a permanent branding on my heart and in effect, we become one and the same.
I look at it every day Sara, always hang it right in my eye line....No matter where I go, it goes with me - symbolic of you.
Get the shit done, crush skulls with the stiletto's, wiggle sexily up the wrungs in that hot ass pencil skirt...
I am lucky as hell to have friends like her.
She said tonight as we parted "I will do better at keeping in touch" and yes, that would be lovely, BUT I told her "I'm always here - not going anywhere"
Great to have distance and real life not put undue pressure on love....
Thing about life is that it goes on and on and on...
Enduring friendship is the same way, on and on and on... Even when you don't see the face or hear the voice regularly, it's still going strong.
The corner of your life willl always have me in it.
And huh funny enough, I know mine will always have your pretty face in it too.
Thanks for the face time.
I love you.
And hey, since you are a true lover of the game of hockey - how bout a little vibe for your old Irish gal's home team...
Not Pakistan, but Brazil would be good.
xo

Cause I'm worth it.

Good Evening faithful blog readers,
Tonight I am sporting the most fabulous french manicure thanks to the genius of the Sally Hansen quick dry nail polish pen - best invention to date...
Now if only someone would come up with a reasonable alternative to bikini waxing...
Okay fine, I admit it - you got me - I am a total girlie girl.
But like I have a choice???
For instance - I went to CVS tonight for an innocent errand - toilet paper.
As soon as I walked through the sliding glass doors BAM I was greeted by a deadly display of nail polish colors - I was immediately over stimulated and in a cold sweat.
The brilliant CVS marketing team made a fantastic choice when they decided to design the entrance as a literal gateway into the cosmetic department - oh we consumers are so easy to trick with Jedi mind tricks such as these - especially we up-keeping girl types.
Then, as if the transition from door to nail polish wasn't enough to secure their death grip, the buy one get 50% off deals had me and my wallet hostage.
I grabbed a carriage - for toilet paper?????
Shit I am sunk.
Before I knew it I was pulling out lip gloss after lip gloss comparing shades and shimmer up against the back drop of my hand, and then moved on to reading every package of mascara to see which one one would really get my lashes mile high and survive swimming in the pool.
Toilet paper Deb, Toilet paper...
Then off to the aisle of hair removal - Every year I fool myself into believing that Nair is the answer to my overgrown bikini line - Nair is so not the answer to anything, but you and I both know, I left with the damn Nair...
Before I knew it I had been in the store for over a half an hour and was strolling down every aisle like I had absolutely no meaningful life to live, completely numb off my beauty supply buzz.
TOILET PAPER DEB for the love of GOD....
I remembered it as I got up to the register and had to apologize to the people behind me and do the whole "I'm sorry, I forgot something, excuse me" deal while I maneuvered my carriage backwards out of the line of annoyed and impatient customers.
I know they judged the contents of my cart - who wouldn't with the Nair, and what a ridiculous woman with all that make-up and no toilet paper.
NOT my fault, blame it on Maybelline.
And there in the toilet paper aisle I very suddenly become ferociously frugal and search for the cheapest package of TP on the shelf.
Wow.
When I finally got off the hell ride - my one pathetic bag was worth $65 dollars. SIXTY FIVE fucking dollars!!!
I immediately hung my head in shame and snatched my little bag from the disapproving sales clerk and sulked out.
Bitches at Cover Girl got me again - but you know what I bet, all the big wigs are MEN.
Men who what, have to shave and manscape a little.
OH PUHLEASE.
For a brief moment in my truck as I gripped the steering wheel while peering out of the corner of my eye at my offensively small bag and simultaneously drowning in self loathing - I thought, I wish I were a man.
MEN HAVE IT SO DAMN EASY.
No periods for starters = no pregnancy = no stretch marks = no swollen feet = no childbirth = no lactation = no post pregnancy weight gain or sagging.
GRRRRRRRRRR. So unfair.
No make-up, no bikini waxing, no night creams, no painful stilettos, no manicures.
They get up shower and if we women are lucky, shave and splash on cologne.
A man would have gotten in and out of CVS for under five bucks...
I hated on man ease for all of six seconds and then snapped out of it.
I am a girl. I love being a girl.
I love being soft and smooth, I love smelling edible like cake, I love fluttering lashes of various colors depending on a given mood, I love french manicured nails that perfectly emphasize my ever constant hand gestures and I love to have my pucker shimmery and sparkly to illuminate and accentuate my fantastic smile.
I loosened the grip on the wheel and thought, yeah I am a girl - sue me.
I get color and variation - men get the same face every damn day - yup, no thank you.
CAN I GET AN AMEN?

Would you not like to be sitting on top of the world with your legs hanging free?

Wow it has been a few days since I last said hello....
Nuts how busy life can be.
In the few days since I last blogged, a truly amazing thing happened - the pretty blue eggs began to hatch and guess what? The first one cracked open on my Nana's birthday!
If you read my blogs as a "follower" than you will know how crazy beautiful perfect that is and I'm sure you can imagine that I have been scratching my head vigorously for days now trying to figure out just what the hell it all means.
Nothing concrete yet, just a lot of maybe so's and could very well be's.
Gotta keep stretching the mind muscle - so many possibilities to consider - I exclude nothing.
That is a great concept - no exclusion, hmmmm.
I wonder what that would look like applied across the board?
Oh wait, that's kinda how I do things isn't it? Rule nothing out - leave every door open wide or at the very least a toe in.
This thought brings me to a conversation I had recently with an old friend. A friend of the twenty five year ago variety....Amazing to do that twenty years later, what a gift.
At any rate - we texted a lengthy convo about the mid-life crisis issue - identity - time - confusion.
The mid life marker sure does have a way of posing the brutal question "who the hell am I and what do I REALLY want to do with the remaining time I have left?"
My friend and I have both have woken up mid life, mid roles, mid - all sorts of commitments to find that unfortunately, it isn't all what it's cracked up to be.
I heard a lot of you just psshh at me.
Judge me if you must, but it is absolutely - unequivocally true.
If you read my blogs you know I love life - you know I feel blessed and you know I am thankful, I swear to God I am not being ungrateful or whiny. What I feel is just unbelievably difficult to articulate.
Hmmmm....
I feel like ME needs serious ME time. I feel like being selfish and that the selfishness I want to embrace isn't selfish at all, it's more like necessity - like air.
I want to throw all caution to the wind and act on impulse that is driven directly from the part of me that has one eye on the clock and hears the loud ticking growing even louder. I want to NOT do all the things I should do and instead do a lot of the things that I want to do. I want to do things that will make me say later "I cannot believe I did that!"
Does that make sense?
Sure I SHOULD cook dinner - but sometimes the ME part of me doesn't even recognize the person who knows her way around the kitchen. I want Fiji for dinner not marinated chicken on the grill.
I want Fiji for breakfast too...
I want to be in a posh hotel in Fiji right now in fact, on the deck overlooking the ocean in a silk robe left loose and open, sun-kissed and salty underneath, slowly sipping a deep red Merlot that leaves oily lip prints on my cigarette which sends smoke swirls to dance between my toes that are propped up on the table in front of me, the horizon line sitting on top of my hot pink nail polish, swaying to and fro like a miniature ship in a bottle.
Yup that's what I want.
And I want no one from my real life to be there...
Is that so bad?
I want passion that is all encompassing and undeniable, unstoppable - I really do not want to pick up the house, put laundry away and go to work.
Youth is wasted on youth.
Huh so true.
Twenty year old's know nothing (sorry guys but it's true) - you gotta be forty to know anything, and then you still want to know what you know, but temporarily forget that you know, because in the forgetfulness there is a magnificent freedom that expands your ability to know that which maybe you shouldn't, but you definitely should - regardless of and in spite of anything and everything, because this is your one shot - get it quick, grab it hard, do it now while you can.
I guess I need a red corvette and a twenty year old girlfriend with a good boob job...
Kidding.
What I really need is the freedom to be ME, not just me in the roles that I have chosen for this life - not just defined by what or who I am to others.
I am more than my roles make me.
Not saying I want to abandon my kids - not even close...Just thinking that after twenty years of doing the needs of everyone else - I need to do my own now too.
Mine don't necessarily jump and jive with everyday life DAMN IT and that puts the crisis in mid-life....
And with that I see the real clock and know old people like me need wrinkle cream and beauty sleep, sigh.
So...Exclusion? Hmmmm - I think not...
For now, not ruling out anything - especially Fiji.

Good to know I am not alone in my straight jacket old friend - we can take turns drying each others eyes while feeling sorry for ourselves and inevitably guilt ridden :)

(If my honesty is offensive to you - clearly you are 39 or under)

Be the sun to someone today.

The sun is up the sky is blue it's beautiful and so are you,
Good Morning, it's Friday - we all made it through another week and this one was chock full of drama - Baby Leona came into the world and I had a very stressful health scare, WOO HOO!!!! All in all I am kinda glad to let this one come to rest - been kinda exhausting to say the least....
Last night I cooked up a storm for my dear friend/new Momma Rachel - we chatted yesterday online and she had just gotten home from the hospital, tired and a little fragile feeling and super HUNGRY.
Boy those pregnancy hormones changing in the days after delivery are hard - the night sweats alone and the breast milk production can really do a number on an already exhausted new Mother. I asked what I could do to help and she said (and I can picture her sweet voice just the way it would have sounded in person) "well we are going to run out of food soon." You need say no more darlin' Auntie Deb is on it.
I went to the grocery store with my list in hand - proteins and treats were my main goal - I smiled at the cute girl I call freckles at FOOD LION as she said to me, "you're here again?" - been there practically every day this week and beginning to think it would save time to just have my checks direct deposited to the FOOD LION corporation...There were chicken chili fixins' on the belt, two pints of Ben & Jerrys, Salad stuffs, Quiche ingredients, banana bread necessities and a myriad of other treats and food accessories - I was fairly pleased with my meal choices - said "I'll see you tomorrow" to freckles and off I went - home to the kitchen.
Brian and I got busy, the sleeves went up and boy did we slice and dice - onions, peppers, chicken cubes, chopped bacon for the quiche, mashed bananas - we were cookin fools and having a great time together - man my son can cook.
When he was little, we always cooked together, he always watched and asked lots of questions, he is a man who knows his way around a mixing bowl, no doubt - he has rich taste buds too and really layers flavors like a pro.
I was a proud and happy Momma and enjoyed having him as my assistant, or wait, maybe it was the other way around...(but don't tell him I admitted that)
At any rate - I assuredly add great cook to the long list of wonderful things he is - love that kid/man with all my heart. Like all teenagers, he did put me through a very specific kind of hell, but he is almost twenty one now and I look forward to drinking a a foamy black and tan with him on his birthday and toasting us both for reaching the milestone fairly unscathed...
I watched him go to work with such enthusiasm yesterday that I think what I was viewing was the passed down familial trait of generosity and appreciation for the art of doing for others.
I learned from my Nana who in my mind, was quite possibly the most generous person I have ever known.
She taught me young - I remember very vividly a six year old me complaining that we had to make the trek to the nursing home to visit her Mother and Father every day over summer vacations - she gently reminded me of how much joy all the elderly folks got from having a pint sized me be-bopping around them. She used a sunshine analogy and said I was theirs, I could surely afford to give up a little of mine...
Love her for teaching me to have a generous heart.
That is one thing I know I am good at and no I am not tooting my own horn.
I love to buy things and do things for others, I love to make people feel special.
I am happy to have this habit - I get way more from it than I give, that I can say for absolute sure.
Rachel is a new Mother and man I know how hard the transition can be from singular to plural - having your body be the vessel of survival for another human being can be very trying - the adjustment is monumental and takes time to ease into - and sometimes ease can feel like a foreign concept for a new Mom - pregnancy can look like a cake walk comparatively. The exhaustion is all encompassing.
One thing she won't have to worry about is food for a few days and that can really be a Godsend when you're too sore to get up out of the bed.
I remember when I got Matthew's diagnosis and had to call my school to tell my 5th grade team that I would not be coming in for a few days, possibly the rest of the school year, that the baby was in real trouble - I will never forget when I opened the front door to my house all puffy eyed and a mess to find my team there, grocery bags in hand to spare me the menial tasks of feeding my family.
I cried like a baby for their thoughtfulness.
It all comes full circle, generosity is a what comes around goes around concept.
Love that, really do, love it...And look in the process of cooking for Rachel, i got great Brian time - a reward in itself - sweet.
Generosity is easy, it just takes a minute or an hour, a day or whatever - it's the easiest thing that a person can do - give.
And with that, I must go shower, get ready to deliver the food and then go off to work for the day.
Today's sentiment is a lot like yesterdays - do something for someone else, I dare you...You'll get a good buzz off it if nothing else and who doesn't love a good generosity buzz?
Peace and love xo

Give a little bit, give a little bit of your love.

Good bleary eyed Thursday Morning,
Man what a day I had yesterday...I feel wrung the hell out.
But great, great news was delivered - the swelling in my leg is not a blood clot!
This is excellent beyond what I can express with words - I can stop being afraid at any moment that I would blow a clot right to my lung and have to depart this world before my list of "to do's" are knocked out. Guess I better get busy gettin' right on that list since I have been granted a reprieve. My long ass list, and hugging my kids even more...
PHEW.
Just now when I logged in to this site I looked at the 'stats' page because I noticed a marked increase in hits from yesterday - "And in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make' had something like 83 views in one day. WOW - Thank you. I feel the love.
I feel extremely cared about and for an old girl who has felt somewhat displaced her whole life - it feels really lovely to know that so many people read my words. My words have a home in your hearts and that means more to me than I can articulate - literally.
And that says something monumental because I have an extremely large mouth...
A handful, or maybe two handfuls of you commented on my facebook wall that my blog made you cry - me too, I read it aloud to Mary as she drove to get her lunch yesterday and the words were hard even for me to speak.
Crazy how that tunnel vision thing works - as if a macro lens zeros in on all the fine details of the beauty of your life...
I hope that if it struck your heart and made you cry, it also made you, if even for a moment, hone in on the beauty of your own life - that is in effect why I write at all. The hope that something I say will resonate somewhere else.
I am that way - I read other peoples works and bawl a lot and then think about how the words apply to me. I have a silly habit of hugging a book once when I have finished it - I hold them close in my chest and close my eyes and think Thank You for those words, for that story, for that message - I hear you loud and clear.
If I am completely truthful about my goals, it would be to do just this for a living...Sit on my ass at my computer with a cup of steaming hot coffee and a little Dave in the background and write a column about life - I want to be a real time Carrie Bradshaw - I want to write openly and honestly about real life and have an envy inducing collection of seriously hot shoes...
Ah sigh, if only.
I could spend my whole day untangling my thoughts for you - no lie.
So... Although I do not seem to have a clot in my leg - I do still have a whacked out thyroid gland and a very large goiter - (I thought my neck was just getting really fat....) Off to the endocrinologist I go and hopefully some answers and relief from all the miserable symptoms that have taken over my life and at some point I will feel normal and spunky again.... I miss my spunk and I miss the gym.
I am hoping that the doctors mix me up a nice radioactive cocktail that will just kill off the stupid gland and finally free me from the cycle of fluctuations - I was first diagnosed with Thyroid issues when I was ten and that was (clear my throat) thirty years ago - long ass cycle of ups and downs.
But whatever, it's small potatoes compared to what some go through.
Take for instance my sister in-law Pam. She has been battling breast cancer for over ten years now. Ten long, hard and often disappointing years.
I cannot even imagine how she sustains her grace.
I have a feeling if it were me I would pitch rocks at the sky and curse the heavens from time to time, I would throw some serious tantrums.
She has battled this disease with composure and her attitude about all of it is nothing short of miraculous...(Love you Pammy Jean)
Perspective is one of the greatest tools I possess and I am so grateful that I was blessed with this trait - I hold my life up to others constantly and in that process lose steam to bitch about my problems -
This is a really good thing.
Takes me to that place where I say, I am breathing - don't even think about complaining...
I still do from time to time - I forget myself and whine - but then I remember Pam Poulin or Lynn Divers and I shut the hell up but quick.
I wish that I could take all the pain of the world away - I wish there would be no illness, no death, no loss - just health and happiness all the time.
Ahhh how lovely that would be (in concept)
But, I am fully aware that all of the awfulness is to exaccerbate the beauty of what we experience on this crazy ride called life.
If there were no bad - we wouldn't even realize the good. Appreciation for blessings would go right out the window and the human race would become abnoxiously slothy.
Bad gives us motivation to find, see and create good.
Those who suffer are taking one for the team, so don't forget to hold your team mates up - hug someone who is suffering.
I could ramble on forever about this, but I have an appointment and I am teetering dangerously close to the edge of lateness...
SO to wrap up my word vomit - Thanks for caring about me, it means a lot.
This is my cherry on top blessing - BUT - (and thankfully) I am okay...
My message for today is this...Sit a minute and see your beauty materialize before your eyes - think about perspective - then go give a little of your beauty to someone who has less.
It'll be a blogland movement of love.
I hope you all have a fabulous day and again, Thank you for reading and caring.
Love love and more love...

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.....

Good Morning,
So last night my dear friend Rachel fought like a trooper to deliver Leona Shalom who BTW is such an amazingly beautiful baby - a good night and a collective phew of relief and joy.
The circle of life continues...sigh.
Yesterday I went to the doctor myself, I am fatigued and miserable, achy all over and have this nagging leg pain that just won't quit - the day before I noticed significant swelling below my right knee - this was a new symptom and equaled a "oh shit" response, should probably put in a call to Dr. Nolte.
We went over my symptoms -
fatigue that has not let up since the semester closed (no energy, zip zero nada)
joint pain
leg aches that make it hard to sleep
swelling
shakiness and tremors
occasional blurred vision
itching
sweating
heart palps
difficulty swallowing
oh and let's not forget...weight gain.
All my life I have struggled with my thyroid, so of course that panel was drawn.
Then the inflammatory blood marker (who knows what that is called?)
and four vials of additional blood for a myriad of auto immune disease tests, oh yay!
Needless to say - Dr. Nolte took the swelling seriously and aggressively sought answers asap.
The scariest thing is the swelling and concern of a blood clot - blood clots in the legs travel = pulmonary embolisms = death.
Not a fan of my own demise to say the least....
I was a little worried about myself when I heard all the symptoms and realized that I have written them off for months as elderly college student syndrome.
Damn I thought I was just beat down tired and yeah no, not school, definitely something else. UGH.
I was at the hospital with Rachel's family pretty late last night and so this morning when the phone rang incessantly I ignored it for much needed shut eye - until I remembered that the tests were expected back this morning.
I bolted upright and found the phone - voice mail - nurse at the office "call me immediately"
Great.
So apparently my thyroid levels are high, probably graves disease. Treatable and whatever, this has been a cycle my whole life - nothing new and definitely explains the sweating, itching, tremors, heart palps and extreme fatigue...
Bad news - inflammatory markers are high too and this was the test that was most pressing...
Maybe I have a blood clot in my leg???
And so, I sat there in bed holding the phone suddenly afraid to move for fear of the clot going straight to my lung and instant death.
I moved eventually, the irrational fear gave way and I remembered I have little control over when the jig is up for me.
My death is not mine to decide and I hate that lack of control, but whatever, clearly another life lesson is coming my way.
My head spins a little because I have a gazillion thoughts in it at all times.
I immediately thought of Mother red breast and the eggs and baby Leona...
What if the nest is there for me?
What if as the world fills up with new life someone has got to go to make room?
I believe that is the way that it works - the exchange of energy, the cycle of birth and death...
I thought of my own eggs - Brian, Kevin, Matthew and Emma Claire.
I thought what would they do without me?
I hate that thought more than I hate any other thought in the world - maybe even losing one of them...
Crazy you say?
I just know that my misery over losing one of them would steal my heart and pain would pervade and I would suffer endlessly - but - that is me suffering, not them.
I don't like the thought of Motherless children - Mothers and children belong together, this I know.
What would my boys do without me? They are all such Momma's boys... And Mimzy, my beautiful sweet loving little girl who is just like me in so many ways....Who would guide my daughter and give her the tools and confidence she needs develop into the the destiny she was born for?
Oh hell - I have goosebumps.
I have no Last Will and Testament.
No choices regarding burial vs. cremation.
No decisions about anything.
sigh.
And so, here I am today thinking about what the other remaining tests will reveal and worrying about my own death.
You may think - WOW, negative thoughts and blowing this way out of proportion, but death is the only guaranteed thing about this life and I have never been stupid enough to think that I am exempt or that the sad story you read about in the local newspaper won't end up being me.
Could very well be me.
This lesson came early in life when Omar's car went into the Charles River and my beloved died at 18.
Shit happens and pretending it doesn't, well that is just denial and leaves you vulnerable to shock.
I am not shocked that I am falling apart, not one bit and so there is no surprise here...
I hate that I won't live forever - hate that I cannot stay just like I am until the end of time - hate that I have no answers about what it all means - hate that I have no clue what happens when we die - hate that it means at some point this great ride will stop - hate that my friends and family will at some point miss me, or the alternative like with my Omar, my Da and my Papa, I will miss them...
Hate it all with a fierce passion and a secret desire for the elixir of eternal life.
Wish I had the recipe for forever...
I talked to Mary and we joked cause that is what we do - our defense against the ugly has always been a sick obsession with playing it out like we make the rules.
She will replace Emma with me - the daily phone calls will be to Mimz.
My writing is in folders get them and keep them for the kids.
Split my ashes five ways and scatter some of me down by the shore at PH....
Make sure the kids knew I was crazy beautiful and not plain crazy.
Get me a posthumous college degree and for my viewing put me in a cap and gown (kidding obviously some fabulous dress)
pluck my chin hair ( I didn't say that to her but I am saying it now)
And so much more.....
The most important thing I said to Mirm, "I know for sure, that if I have loved you in this life, I have told you incessantly - no one will scratch their head at my funeral and think 'did she really love me?' - if I do - you surely know."
I am confident that you all know just what you have meant to me and how much I have valued our time.
I am a lover of the expression of love, Omar's death taught me to never hold back in the love department, give while you can, give it all - don't hold any degree back - blast em with the love vibe.
And so, maybe I am just fine and will just have to wear pressure hosiery and give myself blood thinning injections daily.
Maybe I will get some death sentence and face my own demise - time and the appointment this afternoon will tell...
For right now because I have the ability - I will say these things, just in case I never get the chance...
I love my kids more than anything in this life - they are the great blessings of my time here.
I love you Barbara Hershey.
I love Dave Matthews - thanks for #41 my life anthem.
I love chocolate and free speech and bad asses. I love orange sunsets and salty margaritas. I love the ocean and sea glass and the feeling of digging my feet in the sand. I love the sunshine and summertime - I love the underwater sounds and the feeling of my hair moving like a mermaid. I love tequila and live music, shoes, purses and jewelry (good accessories are the mark of a true Diva.) I love coffee and cigarettes, I love the trump plaza and the sound of ice cubes sloshing. I love the laughter of my children. I love Brian's quick wit and kind heart. I love cheese and french bread and wine. I love running and a good sweat - I love PUMP. I love driving fast with the windows down and the music up loud. I love higher education. I love words and writing and books. I love people who fearlessly own their identities and say Fuck the establishment. I love the word FUCK. I love the feeling of cool sheets and the whir of an overhead ceiling fan in the hot summer. I love sunburns and tan lines and my IPOD. I love the sound of Kevin playing guitar and love the way he still asks me to sing to him. I love enduring friendship. I love food. I love nail polish and Lip gloss. I love the sound of a sax. I love wildflowers and green grass and the rebirth of springtime. I love Autumn and hope to burnout in a blaze of colors just like nature. I love color and art and fine detail. I love music insanely loud and I love to dance my ass off. I love mirrors and tweezers. I love Matthew's big head and all the things that head brought to my world. I love how Matti hugs like he is trying to kill you or at the very least break a few ribs. I love survival and the survival instinct.I love family and that mine has been unforgettably amazing. I love that Toto is my sister. I love that the picture of Ash in the sailor suit was my saving focal point in times of great despair. I love kissing. I love cuddles. I love making love. I love the Wizard of Oz and Dorothy Gale. I love my feet. I love a sick sense of humor and inappropriate language. I love kindness and generosity. I love seeing my breath blow out before me in a cold snap of winter. I like warm chocolate chip cookies and milk. I love memories and having phenomenal detail recall. I love children. I love hot baths and a good razor. I love moisturizer and being in a state of softness. I love traveling. I love my extended family. I love Irish Pride. I love whacking a baseball. I love sleeping in. I love justice and I love people who fight for it. I love manners. I love blogging. I love Boston and Maine. I love hockey and the Boston Bruins, love that I saw so many games at the garden. Love facebook and being able to connect with people who I haven't seen in twenty five years. Loved Kissing David Arend in the witch museum - man could he kiss. Love sarcasm. I love poetry.I love weeping willow trees, specifically mine at Chandlers pond. I love my Nana - my hero. I love my sister Ashleigh's unbelievable loud laugh. I love sisters and that Toto and I heard Dave sing it together. I love stilettos and a tattoos. I love my nose piercing. I love mr. waterpik. I love this keyboard. I love freedom. I love giving birth. I love breast feeding. I love a baby clucking it's tongue wanting to nurse. I love my perfume - Miss Cherie Dior. I love hot abs and a good sturdy back. I love my Bonnie Raitt streak and love her too. I love Mr. A-Z and all his perfect words. I love a good cause. I love people who accept responsibility. I love sweating poolside, feeling the trickle. I love catalysts. I love diet pepsi. I love Emma's freckles and love that she and Toto share that trait. I love honesty. I love talking and talking to as many people as possible. I love a good long sexy slow dance. I love passion and passionate people. I love literature. I love peanut butter. I love a good sneeze. I love Karen Mitchell and her downeast sensibility - I love her perfect timing. I love people watching. I love Leroi Moore. I love intuition and trusting it. I love knowing that she will always pick up the phone. I love when Emma rubs me out of no where. I love twinkling Christmas lights and advent calendar surprises. I love hot tea with milk and a tiny bit of sugar. I love
Thanksgiving dinner. I love my Papa. I love history. I love my dumb dog, my most loyal Willa, love how he always puts his paw on my leg - even when I am peeing. I love the pool. I love the phone. I love butterflies. I love to laugh. I love smiling. I love making people feel good. I love loving myself finally. I love change. I love learning. I love quiet. I love being completely out of control. I love the first moments of a DMB show. I love anticipation. I love setting goals and crossing them off. I love my fav old T-shirt. I love being read to by Emma. I love Victoria's Secret panties. I love people who give a shit. I love photos. I love a good Alfredo sauce. I love burping. I love grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup....I love this perfect life.

Hmmmm I could really go on and on forever - too bad I cannot - I just love so damn much.
I have had a great twisted dramatic life thus far - I have never ever been bored and
I have valued every single minute.
It has been a great ride shared with the BEST people, my kids, my fam, my friends, my beautiful wife :)
It's all good.
I'm not being dramatic, I am simply expressing my own will to face all possibilities and be grateful.
Maybe I am a whack job - but I think not - I think this is just the perfect blog for today...
Mary says I am going to be a crusty old hag a muffin when I finally do kick it, this is nothing, a bad minute that will pass.
I hope she's right - I have kids to raise and degrees to get, a book to publish, blogs to write.
Lets hope that I stick around long enough for you to all get good and sick of me... I think that is my goal, crusty annoying old crow. Yup sounds good to me.
Peace out and Hey, I love you...

Anytime now Leona Shalom

Good Morning!
Again today - just woke up....I'm a sloth and I like it.
Drum Roll please.......
Today May 12th 2011 is my dear friend Rachel's baby's due date. Wow that was a mouthful even to type.
Today is the day she waddles her cute butt over to Cappelino's Crazy Cakes and gets herself a lemon drop cupcake - the sure fire labor inducer.
For those of you who are not local, Cappelino's is a 'specialty cupcake bakery' on the downtown mall where Rachel and I work.
In the last few months 38 women have gone into labor immediately after ingesting one of their delicious lemon drop cupcakes.
Today is the day my friend will put it to the test.
Of course I cannot wait for this beautiful little girl (Leona Shalom) to come into this world - I am ready to have all access to a new baby, I cannot wait to smell her and inspect every inch of her precious little body - nothing quite like newborn body parts to remind you how amazing the life cycle really is.
I keep telling Rachel excitedly - this process is really about my needs!
I get the baby tease all the time when cute little bundles of sweetness come into my store and coo at me - I wanna snatch em up and kiss them all over, problem is - I don't know these people.
Snatching babies = kidnapper...
Finally a newborn I can snuggle :)
Me being an integral part (at least in my mind) of Rachel's process began a year and a half ago (or so) when she handed me a sketch of two fish that she was drawing for her beloved Ariel.
Get ready for the supernatural weirdness....
I stared at the fish and I clearly saw images of of children and specifically a little girl with curls drawing a picture of a cornfield - Rachel knew I saw something other than fish and pushed me to divulge - she doesn't think I am nuts - in fact when I told her my vision, her eyes sparkled and her cheeks pinked up nicely.
I just knew Leona was coming.
Then Rachel proceeded to post this picture of herself on facebook, the most lovely picture of her in some sort of "post something" (hmmm?) glow...
I commented - "that is exactly what you will look like post birthing"...
Then she came by the store one Friday to retrieve her paycheck - she was as green as the Grinch and thought she had a stomach flu.
Yeah no - baby flu.
I received the text the next morning and called her immediately to find my friend in tears...Overwhelming to find you are a Mother, a lot of emotion to process...
I remember vividly all four times the news was delivered to me - your head spins with all the possibilities of change.
Greatest thing about Rachel's situation is that although Leona was unplanned, she and Ariel are really and truly in love, and what that love has created is going to be something extraordinary, I just know it.
Sometimes unexpected life altering change is the very best kind.
Scary yes, but so worth the fright.
Rachel is going to be the best Mom - this I am sure of.
Never a more gentle spirit have I met - calm, intuitive and wise beyond her years.
Perfect ingredients for a really great Mom.
And Ariel - well he is a gem. A truly glowing aura about him - a genuinely good guy.
And, they are both musical!!!!
I am excited to see Leona's musical prowess come to fruition - I hope she plays the piano like her Dad and sings like a lark just like her Momma.
Rachel and I have been singing together for years - when we we were at work and not talking, we were harmonizing effortlessly - now we will have our third supreme and be a real girl group, yesss.
Can you tell I am bursting with anticipation???
You would think I was an expectant Grandmother....
I just cannot wait.
And so, I am hoping that the nine months of anticipation comes to a close today, or at the very least in the next few - if not I think Rachel may burst - Leona looks like she could literally just detach and free fall off Rachel's tiny frame - seriously she is low and round...
I am praying that for Rachel the pain of Labor is minimal and that Leona comes into the world with ease - I am praying for a healthy baby girl and a healthy Rachel. I am praying for Ariel that he can bear seeing his love suffer (so hard to watch someone you love hurt) and that when all is said and done, this beautiful family will have a long life of good health, an abundance of happiness.
I am also selfishly praying that this friendship with Rachel will go on and on until the end of my life, that I get to be front row and center to watch their love story unfold...
And I'm just sayin in advance, I want to hold the baby.
God Bless my friends and I'm here if you need me, for always and forever xoxo

talkin bout my girl...

Hey hey hey,
So I just pulled myself out of bed - I could have stayed there all damn day - I am tapped.
This is where I feel my age - exhaustion.
I have stamina stores for when I need to perform, but once the performance level lowers, man do I feel the pain.
I feel like I have been run over by a truck, every inch of me is screaming for a vacation on a beach and a bed with cool cotton sheets.
How I wish that were in the cards.
Just now when I finally woke up and talked myself into facing this wreck of a house (mind you I am on the computer) I found my phone blinking with two text messages from my surrogate Mother - best friend - soul mate - hetero sexual wife - Mary...
She had just read my blog from last night while driving in her car and simultaneously tearing up - ROAD HAZARD.
She was beaning with pride as only a best friend does.
She is my champion of all champions.
You all probably feel like you know her on some level as she is the always present in my daily musings - she is in essence a very real part of me.
I do not know how I ever got so lucky as to have her for my partner in crime and my partner in life - whatever karma stores I had from my last go round were certainly used appropriately by getting her this for this crazy spin.
I can honestly say that I would cease to exist without her - there would have been a bottle of pills at some point equalling game over for me, had she not incessantly told me that I was worthy and deserving of a better life.
Nuts how one person can have so much power.
Thing is, my family life as a kid was a bit of a wreck, although I had Nana and Papa (Thank God) I did not ever know my biological Father and my Mother and I were as different as Night and Day.
Growing up with any kind of self worth when your Mom doesn't seem to like you makes for a difficult existence to say the least.
I came in to adulthood kinda lost and feeling like I would never be found and understood by anyone.
Then this family moved into the duplex next to me on good old Yeaton Street and my life was forever changed.
Mary rolled up her sleeves and got to work - she has been at it for almost eighteen long years now - it has taken her all of those years to birth the new and improved me.
And trust me, for her, I have no doubt this labor of love has been just that - a labor and similar in so many ways to birthing me. She has endured the pain of so much pushing -I know sometimes she gets really really tired (thanks Mirm) - talk about stamina.
When I do well on an exam - I call her like the rest of you college kids who call home to tell your Mom's.
I call her first with any tragedy or miracle - she is my go to girl.
What really rocks about this friendship is that through her I have also gained another family...
Her husband Shawn in also a best friend - her kids Colby and Cameron are loves of my life alike my own offspring and her Mother, her wonderful, hysterically funny Mother Karen is like my own Mother too. I have gone from Motherless child to a full family who counts me as one of their own and will never ever abandon me -
Finally, phew...
There is this magical place that is part of the package too, Mary's Grandmothers house in Prospect Harbor Maine, the most perfect slice of heaven out there.
The beauty that lives in that slice of serenity has little to do with the landscape although it is breathtaking - it has so much more to do with the atmosphere.
When you are there, you can hear the laughter of previous events, previous days, previous happiness in the breezes that blow - all the conversations of the past come alive again and you are able somehow to be a part of it all - it is a place where you become laced with the past, present and future and you feel your own life is an integral part to it's magic. would really love to be drinking this cup of coffee on that deck right about now...
How lucky am I?
I am so damn lucky that it reaches a level of utter ridiculousness - I really am one lucky girl.
Another spectacularly wonderful thing about this friendship, one of the things that has most definitely changed my perspective about myself, is that Mary counts herself as lucky to have me.
Her being my champion is like carving and buffing the diamond out of the rough. She thinks I am amazing and because of that feeling, she also counts on me...
We have grown as human beings because of each other - all the work has paid off in a safe place where truth is always okay - for us both.
What we have is nothing short of miraculous.
I remember when I sat at Leroi Moore's funeral watching my idol ring his hands behind his back with sadness and anxiety - he said that one of the greatest things about their friendship was that he got to be a part of Leroi's personal battle to love himself - I thought in that moment Mary is my Dave and I am her Leroi - Heaven or hell I'm going there with you.
Life would be boring without messes to stain dresses and my girl has is permanently colored with the stains of mine...She has an efficient stain remover in her corner and she doesn't put him to work at removing not one...
I have said over and over - it is the caliber of character in the those who love you that is important - numbers hold no candle to caliber.
I have the highest of caliber to call my best friend and for that, I am eternally grateful to fate.
Mirm - truth is, I am proudest that you are proud of me.
You who knows what I am really made of, cries for all your pride.
I love you more than I ever thought was possible to love someone who didn't exit my own body.
B is for beautiful messes with best my best friend.
And with that, off to sort through the shit of messes less beautiful than this.
Off to the piles of laundry.
I hope you all have a blessed day and if you have a BFF like Mary - why not call her today and say I love you?
Peace out homies

B is for Beautiful Mess

Good Evening blog readers...
Guess what? I don't have to be anywhere or do anything the next 48 hours - sahweet.
For two weeks, school is no more.
I am so relieved.
I got up early this morning despite not having to be in class at 8am because I had a dermatologist appointment that I have been dreading - Good news, the tri-colored mole on my face is benign, no skin cancer - summer goddess is in the clear.
Funny thing happened, I momentarily fell asleep during the exam...
I guess being naked on my stomach and having someone touch every inch of my body was a little too much like a massage - God I need a massage.
I giggled sleepily and explained the state of my life to the Doc, he told me I was ambitious - what he really meant was insane.
Now that I know I am okay, I kinda cannot wait to soak up some Vitamin D - of course with a thick coating of sunscreen slathered on, I got the lecture by at least three people in the doctor's office - okay fine, SPF 15.
Then I went to a reading event at Mimz's school, then off to the grocery store where I dropped $250 on groceries (food will last like 3 days)
All throughout my day I was thrilled to not have to write any papers or read any books, thrilled to no end that I have nothing but a stack of bills due - no school work is a nice reprieve.
Although I was not focusing on assignments, I will admit I was fairly obsessed with grades - I must have logged in to check for grade postings at least 50 times today...
I am so impatient.
So far two have posted, an A in cultural geography and an A in African American literature, yesssss.
I am however, feeling a little disappointed with the 88 point total I see for psychology. Although it has yet to officially post, by my calculation this will earn me a B...My first ever college B. UGH...
I wanted to blame the teacher because he was impossible on so many levels, but Mary reminded me of the exam that I did not study for due to insomnia and therefore decided to pick the answers based on how happy they made me. I was not in a good way- sleep dep = irrational Deb.
Okay fine - I did less than my best for sure.
Truth is, this whole semester was a half assed effort at best.
It was all life interference - my personal shit was hectic and stressful to say the least.
Mom duty reigned supreme and my kids needed me - simple fact.
I know that all in all, I did my best with what I had left over to give - The last five months, if nothing else have been a lesson - I cannot do everything perfectly all the time - sometimes you gotta give less than you want to.
UGH - SIGH.
I will tell the truth here, I am beating myself up a little bit.
I am reflecting on how I maybe could have done it differently, given a little more, worked a little harder - but, I really do need to STOP THAT.
That is the old me who wants to obsess over failure rather than revel in my accomplishments.
Papa would say "I'm proud of you kid" and so in his honor I am going to be proud of myself too.
And with that I am tearing up, eyes are full with water.
I am proud of me, really proud.
I have four kids, I am forty, I have a job and I am a full time college student.
I am a rock freaking star - that's all there is to it.
So B be damned - Because I have gained more from these experiences than any grades or GPA can ever accurately define...
Yesterday I brought home the school literary magazine that features my first place winning essay - I have had the balls to put me out there and found that me = winner.
Most importantly, I have overcome the doubting me and that is the most monumental win of my life...
Better late than never.
And so, I will wait for the other three grades to post and not freak out when I see the B or my changed GPA -
Only pride, only pride, pride with no melanoma.
Blessings, sigh - Blessings.

Please don't disappear....

I came home tonight on an end of semester high - it's finally over, I am all done. For a split second immediately following the elated sigh of relief, I panicked and felt lost - like what do I do now? Good thing I am enrolled in summer classes....I'll admit it, I am an education junkie...Until summer classes begin, I plan to rest and attempt to put away the piles of laundry that have been accumulating for weeks.
Maybe I will sit in the sun and read a novel for pure pleasure purposes, maybe go to the gym and try to lose this extra weight I have gained so that I can fit in my summer clothes -
This brings me to the topic that has me blogging at 12:30 am - weight loss and body image.
I was on my phone earlier looking at a youtube video that someone posted on facebook - a simulation of what the voices associated with schizophrenia may sound like.
Interesting stuff to say the least. I scrolled down to other associated videos and saw a young girl in her underwear (teenager) the video title was "watch me shrink"
I had to see what this was and so I clicked on it and sat with my hand to my heart as I watched this beautiful girl pull and tug at her body, imagining that the skin she pulled away from her bones was excess fat rolls. She turned around and around for the camera pulling at her flesh, the flesh on her stomach, on her underarms, on her thighs...She pulled and pulled with fierce self hatred and such a distortion of reality.
I was really bothered by this, like really bothered.
When I scrolled down from there I found endless videos of the same nature - girls in their underwear before the camera hating themselves into oblivion and invisibility.
The title to one girls video - "watch me disappear"
I cannot express how much this upsets me.
I hate that this is an epidemic in this country - I hate that this is a trend, I hate that young girls and grown women do this to themselves to attain some desperate sense of control -
It is awful, just awful and I wish that it would stop.
But how will it? How can it when youtube posts thousands of videos of this nature and they appear to be some sick initiation rite or entry requirement to the skinny girl club?
Oh my God what is happening to body image?
The skinny obsession in the media has got to stop - we as a society have to say NO to this beauty ideal before it kills off the healthy self loving female spirit.
Sure I want to lose the weight I have gained since I started school, since I stopped running and going to pump - sure I don't want to have to buy a whole new summer wardrobe because my clothes don't fit - but not bad enough, never bad enough to starve myself.
We are meant to have curves girls, we are women, not twelve year old boys...
I have no energy left to write - I am too upset by the images that burn behind my lids when I blink.
There are endless videos like that, that means endless girls starving themselves right now....
Please ladies - love yourselves and rage against the idea that skinny = beautiful.

My name isn't June

Good Morning blog readers
So this is it....Last class, last final tonight. I am feeling fairly broken so I am relieved that it all ends tonight. This last exam shouldn't be too terrible, it's mostly literature, art and music - three of my favorite things - I should be able to regurgitate it all with little effort - I hope.
I realized yesterday that Matthew and Emma's father is so frustrated with my face in a computer it is taking every ounce of energy for him not to kill me - he just doesn't get it - has nooooo idea how much work goes in to a full college semester, I think he far prefers me in the kitchen or with a mop in my hand...
Unfortunately for all my family, I am kinda over the domesticated wife thing and they are stuck fending for themselves.
I guess in some way I feel a little guilty for not being the house keeper I once was, but you know what? I am not the only one with working arms and legs in this house and most certainly not the only one with eyeballs.
The pile of shit on the floor is not mine and I know you all see it too.
humph.
I may be a little bitter this morning - maybe just a tad.
The thing is this - I stayed home with my kids when they were babies - none of my children ever went to daycare AND I always worked in some capacity - always have, always will.
In the most recent years (since Mimzy) I have in fact worked every weekend since she was weaned off breast milk (Oh did I mention I breast fed all my kids too?)
we are going on year six of being at work while the rest of the world has down time and R&R. Essentially Friday and Saturday are my Wednesday and Thursday and I don't get home until 10pm - it sucks.
I don't get R&R unless I fight for it and then I am a neglect-or, grrr.
Sunday is my only day that I do not have to be anywhere - and during this last semester Sunday is the day I collapse from exhaustion and fall down dead - barely able to function and wearing a face that says "why should I?" -
Pisses my family off to no end.
Well I am just tired, how nice for you all that you have energy to play.
Yes I am bitter today, no doubt about it.
I want so much for my children especially, to understand the value of education - I want them to see my exhaustion and alleged neglect in context to the bigger picture.
They are fairly patient with me for the most part, but I have an idea that a little birdie whispers negative things in their ears which casts me in a less than perfect light in their eyes.
This kinda hurts and really pisses me off.
Not sure why it is always the woman's job to be thoroughly and completely selfless?
Anyone have that answer?
I know at some point then men of the clan had to go out and hunt and kill to bring home the supper, the tribal women couldn't hunt with babies hanging form their breasts, but really - times have changed.
The way I see it - I gave up my college experience and a professional life to take care of my kids - no daycares - Mom at the bus stop every damn day - AND I have been at it for twenty one years now. Oh, and I ALWAYS made money too, let's not forget that....Contributed in every sense of the word.
Can't a woman have her life too, have some identity other than maid/mom/taxi and not have to feel persecuted for it????
I am happy that this semester is ending - glad that I have two full weeks before summer classes begin....Happy that as it now stands, I am only signed up for two. Big sigh of relief.
I just hope for my families sake they all realize that this summer I write the book....Me being out of full time classes does not = no work for Mommy Dearest.
I have my own personal goals and shit is getting crossed off my list, like it or not.
My life is also mine and I am not a fan of swiffers or the vacuum.
For all you who will judge me, I am certainly not suggesting that this was not my choice - of course it was, having kids and being a Mom has always been my doing and #1 priority.
Priorities evolve and I am now on that list too, right at the top.
Maybe what I realize that Dan does not, is that a Mother who feels incomplete is not as good as a Mother who feels whole - even if that does mean more work for the rest of the clan.
Okay enough venting - I am off to shower and get ready for work and then off to class until ten pm tonight (like I don't bust my ass)
wish me luck on my last final - yay for the final final...
And maybe tomorrow I will be June Cleaver - on second thought, yeah no....

A Las vegas Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day !!!
This morning as I sit propped in bed, bleary eyed from my hell week, coffee on my nightstand, computer teetering my knees, I am reminiscing about Mothers Day 2009 and wishing I had a time machine...
Mothers Day 2009 was epic, I dare say the grandness of that spectacular weekend shall never be duplicated or surpassed.
I went to Las Vegas Nevada with my BFF Mary, just her and I.... No kids.... yesssss
And boy did I catch hell for that...
First, my soon to be ex-husband spat venom about me "leaving" my kids on Mothers Day -
How could I do such a thing?
Oh please, I think they'll live - real issue at hand was me loose in VEGAS!
Then my ex-friend unleashed her self righteous, holier than thou crap on me and tried to damn me to hell - ohhh ahhh ewwww, what kind of Mother leaves her kids on Mothers Day????
I'll tell you what kind - Me and Mary, two of the most dedicated, committed and loving Mothers you'll ever find, yessir me and Mary, that's who - bye bye.
And imagine that...two years later and my kids are alive and bear no emotional scars from my leaving them on MY DAY. humph.
Thankfully, I remember the entire trip vividly and I can recall the moments regularly, I just close my eyes and return to the lights, sounds and action of Las Vegas -
OH MY...
The events are too many to tell here, but I'll share some favorite snippets to make you green with envy...
First there was the over book at the airport - "anyone who wants to give up their seat to take a later flight earns a free ticket anywhere in the continental US"
Um yeah, score!
And I still arrived in Vegas before Mirm in plenty of time to have the crusty bartender at the airport bar get me drunk off one margarita, 3/4ths tequila one part margarita mix (the Vegas way)
Mary landed, we were an airport spectacle of love and joy, then the cab ride off to the emerald casino/hotel. At our first red light we pulled up to a drunk girl in the passenger seat of a huge pick-up truck belting a Michael McDonald song much to the chagrin of her testy boyfriend. Because we are instigators by nature and a soul sister always needs back up singers, we chimed in and made a fast friend, "fuck yeah" and a fist pump to the air as the light turned green and they sped away.
Welcome to Vegas, yee haw.
Wardrobe change at the MGM, off to eat, and then to the most rocking club where we danced on tables until the wee hours of four am - there were cosmo's for her tequila shots for me, Mary proceeded to destroy the confidence of an albino man and the transvestites were wearing beauty Padget banners...yesss.
We stumbled to our room at 7am, attempted to sleep, gave up and ordered red bulls from room service.
I began day one with a self induced puke (my first time) initially thinking I had failed miserably for nothing at all happened but fierce gagging and retching - then suddenly my stomach seized so hard I puked my guts out and also peed involuntarily. Nice.
We began our day at the buffet from hell, more food than I have ever seen in one place - I had a diet pepsi and mashed potato's - my theory behind this meal, gotta create a coating for the stomach, a good base for alcohol consumption - then I killed the dessert bar (so much for my no sugar diet)
Then off to see the MGM lion (so cool) then exclusive pool party time.
I love Las Vegas pools, the people are too hot for the eyes - I mean seriously too hot, yum.
We drank pina colada's all day in the Nevada sun, then packed up and checked into the luxurious Trump Plaza hotel where both Mary and I wanted to live forever and ever and ever.
We showered, got sexy, then back to the MGM for the Dave Matthews Band with opening act Jason Mraz. Really is this happening?
Now, I must explain here that a dear sweet lady in my store, several moths previous had warned me about the stilettos in Vegas - she said leave them home, do comfort.
Yeah right, no stilettos in Vegas - if not Vegas than where?
So Mary and I strutted in stilettos from hell and were in hell, as we were paraded through the entire venue with security who were getting us to the "correct" pre-concert party. (old crow was right on - stilettos = uncompromising pain)
We were served lovely drinks at the "right" party and just as we sipped, we were accosted by other security guards - we were in the wrong place again... I said "well I am finishing my drink soooo" - than we were booted, I was a good girl and didn't make a fuss...
To our seats, in front of a Dave head and his bubble headed girlfriend who didn't know CCR on the loudspeaker and giggled a lot about nothing in her I just sucked a helium balloon voice - Oh what men will put up with for a little snatch...
Jason finally came out and we cheered the loudest - on my god there is our boy, and of course he sang beautiful mess - we linked arms, swayed and cried because what else can the original beautiful messes do but cry for their own anthem? Perfection, I mean really it was perfect.
Than Jason says "You ready to get your DMB on?" and the crowd went crazy,the lights went on, the music started and off we go..
Now for all of you who do not know DMB well, Leroi Moore the saxophone player had recently died in the midst of making the grux album - this was the first time Mary and I would hear the band without our beloved Leroi and the new music from the album dedicated to him - it was surreal, the whole night, I mean I couldn't have dreamed it any better - one of the most spiritual and emotional events of my life and I pretty much did the Deb ugly laugh cry the whole damn night.
Then the craziest shit happened, which will not sound spectacular to you, but I assure you it was....
DMB played the most insane version of SO DAMN LUCKY that I have ever heard. It was like an outer body thing, the screaming and the repetition and the rain drops on the big screen and the lights, round and around and around....He went on forever and ever I cried as though I had just been born - Me in Vegas with my girl and I am surviving this marital separation,kids ate okay, I am enrolled to begin school, I have a best friend that never fails and I am in tact and just so DAMN LUCKY.
The girl in front of us turned to face the screaming mess that I was and high ten'd me, said "you're the best DMB fan ever" - smart, cute girl you have absolutely no idea.
The next day was supposed to be a recovery mission by the Trump pool, rest and relaxation- and it was, except we hooked up poolside with Kevin Thilborger a compadre to no end so inevitably the patron shots started coming by way of the sexy bikini wearing waitress (Vegas is so sexy)
We made the mistake of not hydrating with anything other than alcohol - we were so distracted by the wolf man and the torrid going's on a round us that we forgot we were in Nevada heat and water is a necessity.
Needless to say we were three sheets to the wind and sunburned to boot.
At some point Mary and I thought it was a good idea to synchronize swim and do in water acrobatics - so drunk = not so smart.
I did a scissor hand stand a the jolly green giant ever so gracefully dove through my legs like a sea world Dolpin.
Kevin was so ecstatic my our performance we did it again, only second go round Mary's breasts caught up in my crotch and I was driven head first to the bottom of pool.
I thought I was paralyzed, Mary was too drunk to take me seriously,
I asked her like 15 times if I was okay - would paralysis be automatic with a broken neck or would it happen over time?
OMG.
Got no time for fatal injuries, tonight is James and Jason at the Pearl.
Back to our room, Mary calls room service, answers the door in her terry robe with her pretty cleavage peeking and sloshes her cubes in her drink. We were so made for the good life - Mary lovessss room service.
As I lay on the tiled floor of a shower cube bigger than my house with the water beating down on me, I thought maybe the neck injury had in fact killed me.... Was Mary really in a robe like that, such pretty ski lifts and she looked so beautiful in the steamy light, so warm up against that white terry robe with the marble tiles as her backdrop - I think I am in heaven.
No just drunk and drowning in the trump shower - oh tequila, how much I love thee.
Oh Las Vegas how corrupting you are...
Showered and stiffly upright, still thinking paralysis is inevitable, off to dinner and the mIdnight show at the pearl.
We were so burned and so tired and so hungover, that we again, ordered red bulls at dinner to accompany the alcohol, hoping we would have stamina to get beyond the time change, midnight is three am to East Coast gals.
In my butterfly dress (butterfly babbyyyyyy - a present from Mary just for the show) I stumbled through the Palms casino arm and arm with my one true love...
Heaven I am in heaven.
Finally in our seats, next to the two most awkward teenagers on a date, we settled in for James who when began singing, prompted my mouth to hand open in disbelief. OMG his voice and the Pearls seamless sound system..
Quickly, Mary jumped up to cozily speak to a security man who can only be described as chocolate love perfection and before I knew it she was motioning me to c'mon..
Down to the stage side we went, led by chocolate lover and yesssss we are on the floor.
Then Jason and the repetitive nature of perfect concerts....He began "HAPPY MOTHERS DAY ALL YOU CRAZY MOTHER FUCKERS" (love him)
We danced like we have never danced before and he sang us (almost) all our favorite songs.... a continuum of the best nights ever.
We got the set list, cause that's what we do and marveled at a couple of old groupies we aspire to be like one day when we are old...
Back to the taxi line from hell, Mary's purse molested by a crack head and finally sleep at the Trump Plaza.
Last day at the Bellagio, lovely Mother's day lunch at the hotel, marvel at the butterfly gardens and glass sculptures, then shopping all day in the Grecian themed malls. Wow, really another freaking world.
One of my favorite times spent in a mall bar, free drinks from the Boston bartender and hours of quiet talking, two best friends on a perfect Mothers day - love her, love her talks - love her with all my silly little heart.
Then more casino's, lots of alcohol and back to the Bellage for a few hours rest before our flights home.
This is merely an outline - the details of this weekend are so many that in effect I have enough material to write a book...
It was without a doubt the best Mother's day I have ever had.
Sure Mothers day with your kids and their home made cards and breakfast in bed is magnificent - but, a weekend away from Motherhood to celebrate the role that defines your very existence is sometimes just what a good Mother needs.
Debauchery Vegas style is in high order after twenty years of being called MOM.
I cannot thank Mary enough for this trip or her friendship - it really is a blessing beyond what words can describe.
I had, simply put, the best time ever.
This Mothers day is far more quiet and the tiredness that hangs on me is just from my life, unfortunately not tequila and raucous partying.
Even though it is of the simple nature- this day is great too none the less.
In fact last night, right around the witching hour, my seventeen year old plopped his head in my lap and asked me to sing landslide to him like I used to when he was little... I rubbed his hair, and kissed his face and he didn't fight me or pull away. sigh....
I was in another kind of Mothers day heaven that also made me cry.
If you are a Mom, Happy Happy Mothers Day.
What you are, is the most important person in the world - you do the most important job. Props to you.
Motherhood is hard, really hard.
Motherhood gives you a love that both sustains and sucks the living life right out of you.
It is a see-saw of emotions.
I hope today is a great day for you all.
I hope you all get treated like the beautiful Queens you are.
And if you have never had an epic mothers day away like the one I described - I highly suggest you book a trip for next year.
Memories like these will give you fuel for the long motherhood haul.
And with that, off to my adoring children.

Mirm - thanks for everything you crazy mother fucker - I love you.

menacing crow be gone

Okay so two blogs in one morning = girl avoiding real life. It is what it is....
So here I am here again writing, only this time full of panic. I just viewed a large black crow shimmying her way down the railing, straight for Mother red breasts nest.I ran outside like it were my own kids being threatened to find that nasty hungry bird fully prepared to stand her ground. She stared at me, bore me down with her eyes as if to say, those eggs are my next meal.
Oh my God.
I lunged towards her, fully prepared myself to take her out and lose an eye if I must, and she finally retreated to the sky, her black wings spread out like Voldemort's cloak, or even worse the wicked witch's silky cape. I am a wreck.
Naturally I called Mary who has no patience for my nonsense as she is working and a spread sheet was otherwise pissing her off - she simply said "It is the way of nature" or something to that truthful effect.
Really a bird eats another birds eggs? - dislike.
I feel powerless to change the order of things and am really hoping that this whole nest in my Nana's plant thing isn't a lesson in the way of the world for me and my kids. I had such high hopes for something else...
But sigh, that is the disappointment of real life and so I fear I must internally prepare for the worst.
It hurts me to think of that poor Mother bird working so hard for her babies and in the end having them disappear before her helpless eyes.
Can a robin duke it out with a crow?
I sure hope so.
Motherhood is hard.
Motherhood can end badly.
Makes me think of all the Mother's who battle for their kids - some to just get them born... Some who fight for them to live through illness.
We all have black crows to face at one point or another...
I want to intervene, rescue that nest, but me approaching it is as fateful as that stalking black bird - this I know for sure.
She and I, we represent the same thing to Mother red breast.
So I guess I will just have to hope for the best like always in life, and pray with all my might that the eggs survive the battle of nature.
dislike dislike dislike (my how facebook language pervades)
Off to shower, dress and work and leave this whole scene behind.
Really wish I owned a slingshot...

Hell hath no eye lids

Good Morning blog followers and readers,
Let me begin by saying THANK YOU to all of you who click the link each day and find your way into my head. Knowing that people read my incessant ramblings is like a jumper cable charge to my heart.
Just so you all know, I am quite possibly the worst editor in the world - when I quickly scan through my blogs before I hit the post button and free my writing to the open web, I never see the typos, grammatical mishaps, or worst of all the mis-spellings - I apologize for my messiness, I know it makes some of you (Tiffany) cringe. If only there was a voice recorder blog(sigh) - oh my, I would never shut up....
Last night, immediately before my grateful eyelids finally fell shut, I was re-reading a play by Jean-Paul Sartre titled NO EXIT. This text is one among a zillion that will be covered on my Humanities exam on Monday night. (See, I did study!)
Basically it's a play about three newly deceased people who are introduced to hell, which funny enough, is simply a room that they cannot leave. No fire pits, no torture chambers, no bubbling cauldrons and no Satan - just themselves and no eye lids...
I LOVE this play, think it is brilliant beyond words.
Imagine if that is the reality??? Oh my - bring on the hot licking flames I say.
These three mis-matched (or so they think) people are left to face their inner demons by way of having no other alternative - each character is meant to expose the flaws in the other - by way of an odd number, creating a triangle of inescapable truth. No mirrors, no sleep, no eye lids.
Yowza - hell hath no fury.
That got me thinking, and subsequently dreaming about what I have hidden deep down in my soul that would haunt me if I were to meet that exact same fate?
It's a pretty tough exercise to put yourself through - I assure you.
For me personally, I would definitely have to reckon with my vanity - the no mirror thing would be really annoying. I am, plainly put - a little vain. I will say that I am trying to overcome this ugly trait - I have really really tried hard in recent years to accept myself as I am and to not concentrate on the outer shell as the thing that defines me. I am this crazy head and heart, not my hair or my stretchmarks.
In this society however... that is easier said than done.
Beauty = power in America, but it's a power that also means being objectified, minimized and reduced to your sexual parts and in the long run, what that incites in others.
Oh, lets not forget judgment and hate. It was one of my favorite musicians Alana Davis that said "Everyone hates the prettiest girl in the room"
Exactly, so well said, so true Alana...
I think I am better suited for funniest or better yet, kindest or more appropriately, craziest.
Oh, perfect time for my Nana's voice - "Deb-o-rah Ann, pretty is as pretty does"
Yes vanity - gotta keep fighting that fight - still have work to do.
Seventeen extra pounds does not negate my value....
repeat.
Also, I can be quite intolerant. I know right, me? Yes me... Dr. Martin Luther King is my intolerance savior, he has helped me tremendously in this inner battle.
What I love most about Dr.King is that even in the face of such discrimination and brutality, he continued to hold love his fellow man, even the worst of the oppressors.
When he was faced with stupidity, he conjured up forgiveness for the morons shortcomings. He was able (miraculously) to remember human imperfection and ignorance and chose to teach it out of his enemies by example instead of fight back.
Gotta hug the people you want to strangle...
In my past, I have been the type to smile at someone who has fucked me over while grinding my teeth all to hell inside my fake smiling mouth, and simultaneously swallow and gag all the things I really want to say.
Since my Dr. King love thy oppressor applications, I have foamed at the mouth with ugliness a lot less.
But, I still have a lot of work to do - have to try to (genuinely) be more tolerant of idiots and those who hurt... Hold up - gotta clarify - not tolerant of their behavior in a submissive way - just not venomous and hell damning in my reaction.
Although if hell is a place with no eye lids, I got a few nominees...Stop it Deb - see - ugh work to do.
But, hey at least I am honest.
And honesty, what about that concept hmmmm?
I am not sure that I believe we have to be honest about everything, at least in terms of divulging everything to everyone. Some secrets are meant to be kept and some things are just meant to be secrets, period.
I think as long as you can be brutally honest with yourself - this action is crucial.
In my opinion, when you lie to yourself and then the lie you have told yourself becomes an untruth you spread around to the masses - well then you got problems and the biggest problem is that you cannot be honest with yourself. When you have to lie to your own reflection - then you are in real trouble.
I have secrets and secret plans and secret schemes, and sure some of them would get me in trouble with others - good thing I know enough to keep them to myself, cause me, well I am okay with my darkness and see it very clearly, embrace it daily.
The force is strong with me and I know it, therefore I keep it in honest check inside myself.
Because here it is folks, get ready.... It's human nature to have a dark side...
The real grace and wisdom that comes with aging (in my opinion) is that you finally accept it and learn to do the dance - question becomes, who leads this jaunt around the floor? The good or the bad?
For me, it's most definitely good the majority of the time - as for the trouble making Miss bad ass, well I let her have her way sometimes too - otherwise she would swell up inside me out of pure boredom and the good-doing levee would bust wide open, unleash all my inner wicked and ultimately destroy the world.
I am doing you all a favor by letting her out to play a little - trust me.
I just had the worst thought and literally shuddered.
Maybe my hell room would consist of nothing, just me, no one to talk to, no music and nothing to write with - no purple box, no pencil, no sheet of paper even... OMG
I feel a little nauseous.
I think I need some air and stat - with that, I think I will go find my little slice of heaven outside and talk to Mother red breast, see how the eggs are coming along...
And practice blinking (a lot) while I still have eye lids.
Peace out.

Almost over (tear)

Phew - sigh of relief as I pull off my bra, put up my feet and log into my computer for my own purposes.
Wait I didn't mean that the way it came out - education is my purpose - I meant to say, logged in for the fuck of it.
Sorry for the sailor mouth, no actually I am not, it's who I am and you are reading of your own volition - no apologies.
So....I took the religion exam in 4 minutes and 35 seconds to be exact - truth is, I am pretty sure I aced it, yesssss.
Out of all the questions, one gave me pause and I answered on intuition which is the way of Mahayana Zen, so even if I get it wrong, in my own way I got it right through application, so I say point on my scoreboard either way.
As I was exiting the building after my exam, I had that same overwhelming desire to ugly cry, it happens at the end of every semester. Sure part of it is relief, but really the main ingredient to the post-semester bawl is just how freaking happy I am to be me.
I love this life so much more now that I am a student, and although my goal is to write my book, and then live the easily life as a published author (yeah right) I honestly, really truly want to stay in school forever and ever and ever.
Not only do I love education, I love the people.
I will admit with no hesitation, that I am in love with four out of my five professors from this semester and even the fifth, although not quite at love, fancy in some unexplainable way.
My Humanities professor Jessica is quite possibly as luminous as the July sun, she glows with enthusiasm, intelligence, warmth and humor - plus she is pint sized which makes her punch all the less expected and I thoroughly enjoy surprises. My religions professor Kate is young, adorable and brilliant beyond comprehension (Oxford and Sanskrit, oh my) and when you throw in as distract-able as a young child, the total package is simply breathtaking.
Then the men, oh the men - There is Chris my GEO professor whose smile and good humor makes eight am feel more like happy hour at a local bar where everyone knows your name - His pacing up and down the aisle is like a dance you wanna learn the steps to, follow his lead by way of cultural awareness. I adore this guys teaching style which is serious business at a comedy club. Loved him, just loved him - great smile and wit.
Then we have English, oh English how you make my heart beat right out my chest. My English professor, the good Doctor, is for me, alike the mad hatter at the tea party, naturally I would be a combo of Alice and the Cheshire cat in relation - enough said.
I just loved the assorted flavors of this semester - now maybe I am just hungry and so I pull up to the feast more ravenous than others, but yeah no - they were unique characters I will never forget.
And then we have the students....Oh the students - how I love the mix of old timers like me and all the newborns so cute, so silly and (really?) yeah, so firm.
I remember, however vaguely, when my skin was that tight and responsibility was a distant star in a far away galaxy...

Some of my favs, have been from English no doubt. There are my table mates Nikki and Q who packed in like sardines on top of me as I edged off the wall trying to fight claustrophobia - no really I liked it. Nikki is smart, funny and insightful as shit. And Q, he is just Q and I adore him - a good kid on his way to being a really good man.
Oh and who can forget that hottie, whose name I can never remember but his face lingers on the eyes long after they have dreamily blinked - he is natural male beauty at it's finest and will smolder in the hearts of many women to come. Effortlessly edible, yes sir.

My religions class had the most diverse group of people I have ever been in a room with, my favorite naturally hung out in my corner, a group of whack jobs if I have ever been a part of one - we laughed at private jokes the whole way through - but Mary, sweet Mary and her pretty cane, she warmed nicely in my heart cockles - sweetest girl I ever did meet.

Psychology was dry like stale wonder bread, less that one girl who always asked the stupidest questions... She was like peanut butter to an otherwise inedible sanwich. We had no room for personality in this class - it was all geared to endorphin killing...

Humanities, well now - we have some personality going there - Iman who will argue me down on any point while simultaneously looking at me curiously, going huh - and thinking what is it about her that makes me want to argue? And then we have Kristen who is just a tall glass of water with the giggles - and Patrick, whose tan and muscles and familiar face always make me wish I was twenty and not good friends to his sister - then my diagonal neighbor, Brittany.... Brittany is anarchist from the word go and will be the head of some fine feminine revolution one day - her read hair, Elvis Costello glasses and nose ring make me want to be the feminine lesbian counterpart to her angst and she's not even gay...

And Geo, oh Geo - the two girls from food lion who see me frazzled in the grocery store trying not to succumb to my childrens incessant begging for candy - they know the truth about me - and oh, the pretty Fluvanna girls who went to school with my kids and still laughed at my jokes - oh and the guy up front who takes himself far, far too seriously and Mary again - sweet, genuine Mary.

Oh how I will miss them all... I bet you now understand why I wanna ugly cry at the beauty of my life - so many people - so little time.
And on that note - I have a few straggling assignments that I need to sew up and one more exam I should study for - note, I said should.

I hope you all have a glorious day and if you read this and are one of the people I mentioned - yes you really are that great - and yeah thanks so much for our time together...

till next time, peace.