American girls are weather and noise....
If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace. ~ Thomas Paine
Butterfly's Flutter Bys
DJ Groovy Slug Spins...
Espresso Ramblings
hamstermotor
Here today
HOPEFUL MUSINGS
I Was Just Thinking...
KandyKD
mo' gravity and grace
my place now
Passionate Chaos
Still I Rise
Sublime Vacuity
The Daily Blitz
Transition
Urthshu
Woodland Forays
visited *loading* times
It's taken two years and three blogs, but it's finally happened.
(sniff...sniff!) I'd like to thank the fine folks at MotorcycleBuzz.com for making this dream become a reality. And thank you to Mo'time, most of all Howard for his neverending support and guidance, and Stefano for fixing it when it gets broken. And if course, all of my Mo'time friends. I couldn't have done it without you! 
I take it back, I'm NOT back to normal anymore.
My poor baby is sick with what appears to be RSV, because her dumb mother took her all around town all weekend long. You should hear her little lungs trying to make such big coughs, it would break your heart.
My "normal" period lasted a whopping two days. Now I'm in my "blue" period.
For Samantha Michelle
Born to Soon: February 22, 2003
If I had titles activated, which I don't, the title for this post would be "Why My Nephew is the Coolest Four Year Old On the Planet".
I think you know that Ryan's dad died very suddenly last month, so it's been very sad around here. In response to that, my sister in law asked her kids to make little sympathy cards for him. So my niece wrote a really nice letter to him about how their dads were in heaven together. One nephew made a card that simply said "I'm sorry your (sic) sad". But the smallest one took an entirely different approach. It was an approach that made my sister in law cringe and shake her head in apology as the kids delivered their notes. It was this:
What is it, you ask? It's a picture of someone falling down the stairs. You know, to make Ryan laugh, so he wouldn't be sad anymore.
And there's more. A multi-stage action shot:
How can you not fall completely in love with this kid?
It's offical, I'm back to normal. Cured of pregnancy and birth. It feels like when you were a little kid and your mom made you wear that stupid blue knit cap with the huge rainbow pom pom and the little embroidered picture of Charlie Brown slipping on the ice, and you wore it out of the house and then when you got to school and your brothers were out of sight, you finally took it off and shoved it in your backpack, and suddenly you could feel the cold and your forehead stopped itching and sounds weren't muffled anymore and you felt like you could breathe right out of your scalp. Yeah, it feels like that; a run on sentence finally coming to an end.
I just don't hurt anymore. I can get out of a chair without thinking about it too much, I can vacuum, I can pick up my nephew and spin him around. My feet no longer burn when I get out of the shower. (What was THAT about, anyway?) I'm not leaking randomly anywhere. I can paint my toenails, wear my old clothes, drink socially, have sex, count on 6 hours of sleep a night, laugh at myself, and tolerate a good natured ribbing without wanting to kill someone. By George, I'm ME again!
This is all very exciting.
Of course, I still have the occasional day dream/terror of some horrible thing happening to my baby, or to her parents, leaving her orphaned only nobody finds out about it for days and days and she's just left crying and crying in her crib all that time, but I'm told that that never goes away, so I can deal with it.
I can juggle a full time job, a husband, a house, and a baby. I AM Supergirl!
I'm starting to think that outside of my little house, there's very little hope for happiness or success or peace in the world. There's all this stuff going on, and while I know that I haven't been entirely emotional stable lately, I don't think it's me now. Is that like an alcoholic denying that she is an alcoholic? I can stop bad stuff from affecting me anytime I want? No, it isn't.
I don't know how to type this paragraph without coming off as completely unpolitically correct, so I'm not going to try. There's this guy I work with who is a Muslim. Up until recently, we've had a perfectly fine working and social relationship. Right after 9/11, he feared that he was going to be stereotyped and went out of his way to reach out. He assured me that those who practice terrorism were misguided, and I believed him. We've had lengthy and informational discussions about Islam, and I find no other way to say this part...he was my last hope that they weren't all bad. He was it - My shining example of the modern Muslim who wanted to live and let live. I realize this doesn't make me sound very nice, but there's no other way to explain it. I put all of my hope for tolerance on my part in one basket.
Well, the basket has toppled. The current goings on in the world have taught me that he, my friend and coworker, has just been keeping his explosive hatred for America and all it stands for covered up. He's a U.S. Citizen, for crying out loud! He's raising children who are attending American schools, he has a fine job, he's ....he's just gone crazy. I don't really know how many details I'm comfortable sharing, but it feels good to get this out of my head. A couple of weeks ago we had a rather heated discussion over the cartoon brew ha ha. He called me looking for an ear. No, he called me looking for someone to agree with him, and instead he got a shrug and a "Free Speech, my friend. Just be glad you have it." He feels that there shouldn't be free speech where matters of morality are concerned. Well excuse me...Who decides what's moral and what's not? Him? I was caught off guard by his anger at the situation, and at me for not agreeing. This is the "normal one", remember? He ended up hanging up on me, and I just left it alone. We've mantained a professional, if not cold, working relationship since. Now it turns out that he's complained to my boss, says he can't work on my accounts anymore. WTF? No, seriously...WTF? I'm just baffled by this, and I have no idea how to proceed. How do I defend myself without coming off like a complete closed minded asshole, when all I can think is "Man, you were the one who gave me hope, and now look at you!" My boss just gave me this news on his way out the door, and he said we'll take about it later on today, and I'm floored. He gave the news to me like it was typical office gossip. Like - "Get a load of what so and so said about you!" so I don't get the impression that he's especially concerned about it. But in today's P.C. world, he has to take it seriously, right? I've done nothing wrong, he's gone nutty, and I'm in the hot seat. What gives? I guess I should have complained first, but really, the thought never entered my mind, because it's a personal difference that has absolutely no bearing on ability to do our jobs. It's just that ugly, outside world, creeping inside my four walls.
You better take a bathroom break, this is long.
Closer to home, my niece got suspended from school yesterday for drinking a bottle of Robittusin in the school bathroom. Upon hearing this news my heart just dropped because I assumed it was a suicide attempt. It wasn't, she just did it for kicks. To get high. Again, perhaps I don't venture outside of my little house enough, but I didn't know this sort of thing was so popular. Well, it is. I did a quick Google search, and I just can't believe what I'm reading. Maybe I'm naive? There are pages and pages of "How to" guides for this sort of thing. Here's an excerpt, written by a sixteen year old girl, on the things you need to know about it:
7) It was so much fun!
8) Stay away from assholes/enemies who will take advantage of your
helpless state and attempt to hurt or kill you. If they are also drunk, they
will be sadistic, regardless of their normal state and friendship with you.
Trust me. Alcohol and marijuana causes people to become cruel and stupid.
9) DXM causes oneself to feel hot. Resist the urge to leave the
window open all night and freeze or develop acute hypothermia.
In conclusion, if you want to learn about DXM, talk to the users, or
read Bill White's FAQ (the link is somewhere on this page), don't listen to
the authorities. Remember when they taught you in school that LSD makes you
hear colors and see sounds? What a bunch of bullshit! It is impossible to
describe what you have not experienced. DXM is indeed counter- and
non-addictive, regardless of what they say; however, moderation is the key.
If you care to, you can read about her entire experience here. This is written with the experience of an adult, but she's sixteen! I don't want to go on and on about our own little family issue here, but seriously, is there much hope for our future? The internet is blurring so many lines for the young people who have access to it. Maybe this kind of thing has always been going on, but it feels so much worse now. It's so weird to me that I've become the person with the knowledge that comes from experience, and that the babies in our family are suddenly old enough to make the mistakes that we all made, only worse. So much worse.
I'ts becoming harder and harder to resist the urge to wrap my little family up in bubble wrap and denounce the outside world. My mother in law never learned to drive. She just never saw the need. Now, finding herself very suddenly widowed, she feels helpless and wants to learn. My husband is very brave. It takes a lot to ruffle him, but this scares the crap out of him. The idea of his mom driving on the same roads as all those other crazy people who think their SUV's make them invincible.
And then there's perfect tiny innocent little Hope, with her giant gummy smile, who's going to have to wade through it all. The thought just squashes the soul.
For Rustymadgal :
(Does that necklace remind you of anything??)
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!
This is a Valentine for Howard
This is the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
This is the strain
That worked the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
This is the disdain
That banished the strain
That worked the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
This is the nap
Which eased the disdain
That banished the strain
That worked the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
This is the babe with the high pitched cries
Who ended the nap
Which eased the disdain
That banished the strain
That worked the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
This is the mother with droopy eyes
As she rocks the babe with the high pitched cries
Who ended the nap
Which eased the disdain
That banished the strain
That worked the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
This is the poem with words so wise
That's written by the mother with droopy eyes
As she rocks the babe with the high pitched cries
Who ended the nap
Which eased the disdain
That banished the strain
That worked the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
This is the affection that starts to rise
'Tween the lines of the poem with words so wise
That's written by the mother with droopy eyes
As she rocks the babe with the high pitched cries
Who ended the nap
Which eased the disdain
That banished the strain
That worked the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
This is the moment of time she buys
To express the affection that starts to rise
'Tween the lines of the poem with words so wise
That's written by the mother with droopy eyes
As she rocks the babe with the high pitched cries
Who ended the nap
Which eased the disdain
That banished the strain
That worked the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
She wonders if she can improvise
As she reflects on the moment of time she buys
To express the affection that starts to rise
'Tween the lines of the poem with words so wise
That's written by the mother with droopy eyes
As she rocks the babe with the high pitched cries
Who ended the nap
Which eased the disdain
That banished the strain
That worked the brain
That tried in vain to create a Valentine for Howard
True story.
Happy Valentine's Day!
The weather outside is frightful.
Guess who had a bottle of wine with dinner?
Go on....guess!
Colored it myself...ThankYouVeryMuch.
I just want to make the uglies go away.
We interrupt this blog....
I just have one thing to say, and then I'm gonna shut up. I am SO fucking tired of hearing about "offended" muslims. Seriously. Even the ones who fooled me into thinking they weren't extreme radical cult-following crazies all this time have suddenly gone crazy. And over WHAT? Yeah... exactly.
And guess what? If you think I'm being offensive, I don't care!
Here, I can been extremely radical too:
Islam SUCKS! My lack of a God is better than your false prophet! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee! Isn't it fun?
Any attempts to teach me tolerance or tell me I'm horrible will be met with giggles, so don't bother. Just be glad I'm not setting fire to things.
Last night I called my friend in Los Angeles to see if we could find some time to get together when I'm there. She grew up here, so if anyone on the left coast knows how to celebrate St. Patrick's Day, it's her. Turns out she's running the Los Angeles Marathon that weekend. Hmmm... You know, I've always wanted to run a marathon.
Ok, that's not entirely true. I've wanted to run a marathon since I got pregnant and suddenly couldn't do much of anything physical, and I still do. My not-quite-as-of-yet-established goal was to run the marathon here in November, but wouldn't it be nice to have a marathon under my belt before I sign up for this one? That way, I'll know for sure that I can do it. And for a first marathon, L.A. is ideal, because my friend assures me that it's the fluffiest of all the marathons, and some people walk it. Of course, there are problems:
Problem #1 - It means I'll have to stay in L.A., and away from my baby, for three extra days.
Problem #2 - I haven't trained, and it's next month!
Those are pretty significant problems, aren't they? And yet, I just can't get this idea out of my head. I did run three miles the other day. I'm pretty sure I have enough endurance to go 5 or 6 hours of at least moving forward, if not running. Is feeling like I can do it half of the battle, or is that just a load of BS?
I don't know, it's a crazy idea, right? Maybe I should just stick with wanting to learn how to surf. I just can't get over how cool I would be if I came home and said "Yeah, I completed a marathon!" Then again, there's a good chance I'll fail. I just don't feel like I will. Thoughts? I should just do my business and come home, right? {sigh}
In other news, the funny t-shirt contest has carried on to the next generation. Ryan brought home a shirt for Hope that says "Don't you wish your mommy was a hottie like mine?" HA! It's way too big (not that I'd ever put it on her anyway, of course!) but it's the thought that counts.
I now have new plans for St. Patrick's Day, but it totally won't be the same. 
If you signed up for the Valentine's Day exchange, your completely random buddy has been assigned, so check your momail!! And keep it a secret until Valentine's Day!!
Have fun, everyone!
I'm hyperventilating because our contract with the client who makes up about 60% of my workload is coming to an end, and we're currently re-negotiating a new contract, and we have competition, so we have to plead our case and dazzle them, and we have to do it in Los Angeles.
Just rip my heart out while you're at it. I have to go to Los Angeles!
Deep...shuddering...breath.
And what's worse - guess when I have to be there? March 15th-17th. HELLO!! That's St. Patrick's Day! Anyone who knows me knows that I look forward to St. Patrick's Day all year long. It's the holiest day of the year, for crying out loud! I shouldn't even have to work at all, and now I have to sell myself and dazzle people on the other side of the continent?? That's just not right.
Does anyone volunteer to tell my husband for me?
This is the last call to sign up for the Motime Valentine's Day exchange. I'm matching up the names and sending them out tomorrow!
I'm no longer angry so I'm not really breaking my own rule by bitching a little bit. And even if I am, so what? It's my rule and I'll break it if I want to.
Starting with the obvious, because I have to: I love my niece. I do, I do, I do. I want nothing but the best for her, and I would (and have!) do anything for her. But the truth of the matter is that the girl is a drama queen (like her mother) and when she's not totally blowing things out of proportion (like her mother) she makes shit up to get more attention for herself (like her mother).
I expect her to be all filled with teenaged angst. Her parents have recently finalized a nasty divorce. Her mother is living with the guy who, according to my niece (though it's far from the only factor) caused the divorce. It's all ugly and disfunctional and unhealthy, but they do their best to make it ok. Really, they do. She also has shitty taste in friends, no interest in school, no hobbies, and a slightly more than recreational drug habit. No one believes me on that last one, but it's true. It's obviously true. But she's just a kid, and kids don't do drugs, right? Yeah. Everyone is blind to it for some reason coughDENIALcoughcough except me. These are the same people who think her mother is not a nasty vindictive sociopath who only cares about herself and her hurricane of drama and her throne, right in the big fat middle of it.
And so, when said teenager calls my house in hysterics saying that she CAN'T stay with her mother for another minute, I get sucked into this situation against my will, because I'm not going to turn my back on her. But do I want to be the peacemaker? NO! They just paid lawyers five year's salary to deal with and settle that shit. It's not my job, it's not anything I have any expertise in, it's just somehow become my role. So I'm listening and trying to be soothing and she's just going on and on and on then I hear her wretched mother saying "Go ahead - Tell her to come and "rescue" you, because nobody here wants to deal with you..." {sigh} So fine, I go and pick her up.
In my mind, we'll have something to eat, talk about whatever the hurricane is spinning today, resolve it, watch a movie, and I'll bring her home, like we've done umpteen times before. Only this time, I suppose I'd had enough. Because she was wrong. So what if she's sixteen, she's still wrong, and no matter how dramatic she may feel her living arrangements are, and no matter how damaging to her precious little psyche the divorce has been, she can't just run around all willy nilly doing whatever the hell she wants. SOMEBODY'S got to put a foot down here, right?
So, she sees I'm not buying it, and that I'm not going to sit here and nod and say "Yeah, your mom IS an unreasonable bitch!". (Which I would never do anyway, even when it is true, which is more often than not.) She sees that Ryan, forever her ally, is not buying it either. So, she reaches into her big bag o' drama and pulls out something new. The boyfriend, let's call him Fred, hit her. And that it wasn't the first time.
Now, let's be clear about one thing. She's lying. The girl lies (like her mother) when she sees that things aren't going her way. She doesn't lie to get herself out of a jam, she lies to gain sympathy and to distract from the real issues. I'm 100% sure that she's lying. If I were only 99.999% sure she was lying, I'd be all over the guys ass. But in this case, I am certain that he is a victim.
Of course, Ryan believes her. Yeah. So I start to question why she brings this up now, after pleading her case for 30 minutes. She says that she remains quiet because she is afraid. It's a sad little story, and I'm suddenly the mean nasty bitch for not being all horrified. (At the right person, that is.) Why tell us, after failing to get us to join her side, when one 10 second call to her father would make the problem, quite literally, disappear? (Do you know how many NYC Police officers it takes to throw a guy who lays one finger on the child of an officer down 50 flights of stairs? None. He tripped!) Now she's all indignant and she's screaming, (which wakes up Hope - GRRRRRRR!) "Because he would never believe me! Just like YOU don't believe me!" and suddenly I'm the monster and Ryan is the (poor, gullible) knight in shining armor.
Ok, fine. I get Anna on the phone and tell her that she and Fred need to come here and deal with this, because accusations are being made and they need to be involved. Do you know what that bitch has the nerve to say to me? "You need to stay out of this, it's a family matter." OMFG! Did she not just TELL her daughter to tell me to come and pick her up? And here I am, looking out for her schmuck of a boyfriend, in a situation that I want nothing to do with in the first place, and she's mad at ME?
One...two...three...four...five....six....seven....eight
...nine...TEN!
Nope, didn't help.
So I give her two choices. Come and deal with her child, or I was going to call her father (who was at work, for the record) to do so. So yeah, she's coming. Meanwhile, Ryan is furious, because he thinks I'm awful for not believing her, or at least giving her the benefit of the doubt. But I've done that again and again and again, only to be shat upon again and again and again. Well, the least I could do, he says, is act like I care about her. Funny, that's what I thought I was doing. I know this child. I know her better, and longer, than he does/has. But it doesn't matter. I'm the monster, remember?
The thing is, she's one of those pathological type liars, who isn't able to think two steps ahead. Like, what the hell are you going to say when the person you're accusing (of something absolutely horrible) actually confronts you? Keep it up, or back down? Or, the third choice, which works so well for her; Just keep crying and crying because you know you've totally screwed yourself? Neither confirm, nor deny. Keep everyone on their toes that way.
I just can't stand it. Accusing someone of child abuse is a horrible, horrible thing. I can look at Fred and see he's just sick about this. The entire situation reeks of ugliness that I can't stomach, and I'm all full of resentment because my little family was dragged into this situation, so I put Hope in her carseat and leave them to it, because she wasn't going back to sleep anyway.
So I drove until she fell asleep, and then I just kept going, just because that's what I do when I'm annoyed. Well, that's what I did when I was annoyed P.H. (Pre-Hope) So if you thought Ryan was mad before I drove across the island...Yeah.
It doesn't matter that she eventually admitted that he hadn't actually HIT her. What matters, says Ryan, is that she's never going to trust me enough to come to me with a problem again. I disagree. Maybe she's just not ever going to tell me another outrageous lie. No, he says. She's not going to remember that she lied, she's going to remember that I didn't have her back, and that trust that we've built up has been shattered, and that I turned my back on her when she needed me. Her trust. What about my trust?
We broke my golden rule of not going to bed angry, and I hate going to bed angry. And then in the morning he left for a 24 hour shift with the feelings all still rough and raw and I hate when he's at work and there are unresolved feelings and things that need to be said. He just started at his new house and I so don't want to be that wife who calls all the time to talk about issues like this, so I didn't call in 24 hours and he didn't either and I hate it when he doesn't call.
We've since worked it out, but most of all I hate that I displace my anger and blame this whole situation on my niece, when I shouldn't have been involved in it at all in the first place. I resign as mediator. I have my own little family, with it's own little issues, to take care of, under our own roof. All I ask is that they do the same. Is that unreasonable?
Note to self:
(Please ignore)
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
Don't blog ANGRY
DON'T......BLOG.....ANGRY!!
Oh, one more thing before I'm out of here for the weekend...I'll give everyone till Tuesday-ish to sign up for the Valentine's Day exchange, and then I'll match the names up and send them out.
Remember, this is friendly and non-romantic, so don't feel like you can't participate just because you're "taken"!
If you don't know what I'm talking about, scroll down a few posts. I'm still too tired to link.
I got this from my buddy in an email, but it's much for fun to put the answers here, and you can do it too if you want to:
1. What time did you get up this morning? 1:00, 3:30, 5:30, and then 7:00 for good. {Yawn!}
2. Diamonds or pearls? Diamonds
3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? I can't even remember! The last Star Wars, I think.
4. What is your favorite TV show? - It depends on what reality TV is on that night
5. What did you have for breakfast? - Nothing
6. What is your middle name? - Ann
7.What is your favorite cuisine? - Italian
8. What foods do you dislike? - Sushi, cheesecake, anything that still has eyes
9. Your favorite Potato chip? - I wouldn't turn my nose up at any of them
10. What is your favorite CD at the moment? - Just one? Counting Crows, Films About Ghosts
11. What kind of car do you drive? - Toyota Camry
12. Favorite sandwich? - Ham and Cheese on a Kaiser Roll
13. What characteristics do you despise? Mean, snobby, arrogant, sneaky, insincere
14. Favorite item of clothing? - My ancient Guiness shirt. It's broken in just right, and it has seen a LOT
15. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? At this point, 8 hours of uninterupted sleep would feel like a vacation, and that's what I'd pick.
16. What color is your bathroom? One is blueish, one is bright orange and yellow and pink
17. Favorite brand of clothing? - Abercrombie and Fitch
18. Where would you want to retire to? - I like it right here
19. Favorite time of day? - Bedtime ( Do you see a theme developing?)
20. Where were you born? - Brooklyn, NY
21. Favorite sport to watch? - Anything but golf. Or tennis.
22. Who do you least expect to send this back? Leigh, because she did it already. 
23. Person you expect to send it back first? Rustymadgal (No pressure!)
24. What laundry detergent do you use? - Tide or Dreft, depending on whose clothes I'm washing
25. Coke or Pepsi? Ha! Ha!! It just doesn't matter!
26. Are you a morning person or night owl? It varies by day. Or night.
27. What size shoe do you wear? - 8
28. Do you have pets? - 1 turtle and a stray cat who comes around sometimes
Rustymadgal tagged me!
Four jobs I've had:
Bank teller
Administrative Assistant
Systems Trainer
Account Manager
Four movies I'd watch over and over:
Star Wars
Clueless
The Nightmare Before Christmas
Any of the Die Hards
Four places I've lived:
Ha!! This house
My mom's house
An apartment five minutes away
An apartment ten minutes away
Four TV shows I love:
The Amazing Race
Survivor
Rescue Me
Any cheesy reality show
Four places I've vacationed:
Hawaii
St. Lucia
St. Thomas
Paradise Island
Four favorite dishes:
Anything Italian
Anything from Red Lobster
Ice Cream with M&M's mixed in
The perfect ham sandwich
Four sites I visit daily:
Motime
Assorted Blogs
Overheard in NY
Stupid work page where I have to enter my timesheet
Four places I'd rather be right now:
My bed
That's really all I can think of
Four bloggers I'm tagging:
Leigh
DJGroovySlug
Butterflys-Flutter-Bys
MaybeKnott
(I'm way too tired to make them clicky - sorry!)
Have fun!
How I feel today:
Jheka on My very good excuse ...
Cannonball14 on I had a long talk wi...
AmericanGirl on My very good excuse ...
Ladyinthemoon on My very good excuse ...
kandy on My very good excuse ...
Cannonball14 on My very good excuse ...
greeneyes on My very good excuse ...
AussieGirl on My very good excuse ...
8 on My very good excuse ...
Mo'nonymous on My very good excuse ...
today
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November 2007
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November 2006
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