Sunday, July 30, 2017

Warning: Shopping May be Detrimental to Your Self-Esteem

It really sucks when one of your favorite past-times is ruined because of something someone says or assumes about you.  Kind of that moment that you realize there is no real Santa Claus.  Yeah, kinda like that.

The other day I went to Ross.  (think Target but cheaper more reasonably priced) After picking up a few things, I went to the first available cashier, handed her my items and waited for the total.  The cashier was all of 19, maybe.  She rang everything up and then looked at me and asked, "Are you a Senior Citizen?"  Wait.  Whaaaat?  Naturally, being the blurt the first thing that comes to mind kinda gal, I replied, "Do I look like a senior citizen???"  I said it with a smile on my face but inside I was freaking out.   I mean, no one and I mean, NO ONE has ever asked me that before and I still get carded at bars and clubs.  Ok, just once but still.  I immediately started thinking I looked like Sophia from Golden Girls instead of Salma Hayek. No there is no resemblance between me and Salma. I am just being dramatic again.  Anyway, the poor cashier thought I was about to go off on her.  She had this wide-eyed look on her face and began apologizing profusely.  "No mam, I, I it's Senior Citizen Tuesday and I have to ask every guest."  -uh huh, every guest.  Sure you do.  I didn't blurt out what I was thinking but instead eased her angst and told her it was ok, that I was not offended, just found it funny.  Heh.  Funny my ass.  She gave me my change and my bag of goodies and  I told her to have a great evening and walked out of the store.

Driving home I kept wondering to myself if all this time that I thought I looked great for having turned fifty, I actually looked like, like, well, like Sophia from Golden Girls, or worse, Dorothy!  Of course that would be kind of impossible since I'm only 4'10 and she is an Amazon. I know it's silly but that girl's question really messed me up.  Had I let myself go?  Did I look like those wannabe youngsters that were really middle-aged phonies?  Had I lost my hotness factor and suddenly turned into an *old woman*???  My mind went into overdrive and I suddenly became sad.

Naturally, upon arriving home, I recounted my mis-adventure to my sister, my mom, my best friend.  Basically anyone who would listen.  And basically, I drove them nuts for the next few days.  See? I am a little alot OCD.  I can't just 'forget about it' like everyone told me to.  I wanted answers dammit.  I wanted validation that I was not old and decrepit.  I wanted to be told I was beautiful and hot and not elderly at all.  But alas, no one told me those things. Well, they told me I didn't look like a senior citizen.  Meaning, I didn't look old.  But since I obsess about everything, I just could not let it go.

I poured over recent and old photos of me.  I examined my wardrobe.  I still didn't see it. I still didn't see "old" when I looked at those pictures or when I looked in the mirror.  Sure, I'm older.  Sure, I have a wrinkle or two and laugh lines.  But elderly? Me?  Not on my watch sister.  Not today and not tomorrow either. I dusted myself off, wiped the pity party tears and declared myself "old as I want to be" and reminded myself that age is nothing but a number.  And that night, I put on my hottest outfit, wore my signature deep red lipstick, flipped my hair and went out to a friend's party. Totally rocked being fifty.  Oh and got a 25 year old hottie's number too. So what if I will never call him? The important lesson here kiddies, is that we are all beautiful/handsome and sexy as we make ourselves feel.  It has nothing to do with others' perception of us. 

But I don't think I will go back to that particular Ross store anytime soon.


Hall of Fame kinda weekend

Today was not just any other Sunday.  Today was Baseball Hall of Fame Sunday.  A day where the baseball greats of years past, congregate and hold the distinct honor of being inducted into Major League Baseball's Hall of Fame.  A feat only a select few are fortunate to embrace.  There, in the quiet and picturesque town, the players are forever etched.  Just like I was two years ago when Craig Biggio made it to Cooperstown, today I am all kinds of happy and proud to watch Jeff Bagwell get his turn.  How incredibly proud and excited I was watching him give his speech today.  I may or may not have shed a tear or two when he spoke about his relationship with his dad and the love for his wife and kids.  A real "aww" moment.  But perhaps the real heart tugger came not from watching the ceremony, but from three pictures that my sister-in-law posted on Facebook. They were pictures of my brother Carlos, sitting on his sofa, donning his Astros cap and clapping excitedly as the tv panned to Jeff Bagwell.  The other two pictures are of him just fixated on the screen before him, as Baggy gave his speech.  I looked at the pictures and saw that little boy that used to tag a long with my dad and my other brother to the dome way back when to watch the Astros.  I saw that little boy that played his heart out in little league baseball.  I saw the amazing father that he has become to his three children.  And my heart swelled with love.  I would post the pictures but he would probably raise a big stink about it.  So, I will keep the peace.  Too bad my brother Rene chose to frolic in the sandy beaches of Mexico or else he would have been sitting beside Carlos as well.

Congratulations #5!  A long time coming but definitely worth the wait.   And I would be remiss if I did not mention the throngs of fans that traveled to Cooperstown to witness history in the making.  H-town was well represented today.  Every time the cameras panned the crowds, all you saw was a sea of orange, or rainbow colors and Jeff Bagwell's name everywhere.  Really a cool sight to see. 


Monday, June 26, 2017

Late post: Ramblings about my Dad


Today is Father’s Day.  I went shopping for a card for him yesterday and not one card felt true to me.  Not the “Best Dad in the World”, “My Hero”, “Amazing Father’ etc.  Not one inspired me to buy.  Instead I chose the simplest and blandest card ever.  The outside had a picture of a dad sitting on a couch, scratching his belly and on the inside, it just read, “Happy Father’s Day”.   I

t’s not that I don’t love my dad, I do.  In my own way.  But something inside always keeps me from truly loving him.   Oh, I know all about forgiveness and moving on with life.  And how it’s a very healthy thing to do.  Trust me, I did the therapy sessions and the self-help books for a long time.  Until one day I finally decided that I didn’t hate him and that I was tired of being angry and that I just couldn’t keep going on with myself like that or I would be unhappy for the rest of my life.  So, I forgave him.  But forgiving him didn’t mean I suddenly wanted him in my life all day, every day either.  I can only take him in doses and only for short periods of time.  Isn’t that weird?  My siblings do not understand me.  They think that I just hold grudges and am mean to him.  Maybe they are right.    I just can’t force myself to go through the motions of portraying him as something he is not nor has ever been to me.  Sure, he worked hard and made sure that we were fed and clothed (because my mom was always there for us to make it happen) and he put us in the best private schools in the city (again, at the insistence of my mom) But I guess what I am most disappointed in is that I never saw him as someone I looked up to, or felt protected by.  He didn’t respect us.  He lied and always cheated on my mom.    I remember arguments they would have that we could have easily sold tickets to because they sometimes rivaled something you would see on the tv show “Cops”.   And then there are the dark secrets that only I remember.  That only I went through with him.   And that is when I remember why I have this love/hate relationship with my father.  But even still, I do love him.  He is my father after all.

So, for this day, the day they honor Dads, we took him to a baseball game.  My father is an avid baseball fan.  He is the one that introduced my siblings and I to the love of the game and the Astros.  It had been a while since we had done so as a family.  So that’s what we did.  We did the whole brunch thing with him and then headed to the ballpark.  It was a really, really, good day.  One of those days that no one bickered but laughed instead and just enjoyed each other’s company.  I know he was happy.  I just wish that this good feeling we felt, would last 365 days a year instead of just one.  Once the game ended, we Ubered it back home, said our goodbyes and got into our respective cars and resumed our normal lives.

Perhaps one day, I will truly forgive him.

Sunday, April 30, 2017

Another Word for Ouch is Old

Getting old sucks.  Not because of any specific number but because inevitably, our bodies remind us every chance it gets. In the mornings while getting out of bed, or going up and down the stairs, or while trying to work out with a 23 year old frame of mind in a 50 year old body.  I  can always tell when it's going to rain, no not because of any local weather person, but because my joints ache.  Literally.  I remember when my grandma was alive and she would be just as active as ever one minute and then the next she'd be rubbing some kind of ointment on her legs and thighs because "it was going to rain."  Never mind that it was sunny and beautiful outside when she said it.  I used to make fun of her for that.  Used to.  I should have known better and not laughed at her.  I imagine her laughing at me now, maybe even saying, "Ha! I told you!" all the way from heaven. 

Like I said, getting old sucks.   Today is one month to the day that I have been in excruciating pain.  On March 31st I was taken to the ER because my left leg was numb and tingling and my outer thigh hurt like a biatch.  But the reason the Urgent Care nurse sent me to the hospital was because my ankles were so swollen they looked like huge overstuffed tamales.  Seriously.  And so she wanted to rule out blood clots.  Thankfully, the x-ray and ultrasound were normal.  They just showed signs of arthritis and muscle tissue deterioration.  The generic nurse gave me two Tylenol and sent me on my way.  But as the days passed, my pain got worse and soon, it was very painful and difficult for me to put any weight on my left leg.  When I walked, or tried to, I did so gritting my teeth and praying for mercy.  The pain grew worse.

A month later and I'm still the same, maybe worse.  There is slight inflammation but nothing like before.  But the pain. Oh good God the pain.  It's so bad that I can't lift my left leg but maybe a few inches.  To paint a clearer picture, I can't even put on my underwear people!  I have to do it very slowly and then just set it on the floor and step into it, and then gently and very, very, slowly, raise it up.  Due to this craziness, I have not been able to wear any cute shoes at all.  No high heels, no cute wedges, not even flats.  I have succumbed to wearing my sneakers all the time.  At work, at home, when I go out.  Let me tell you, I feel like a big moron wearing my pretty dresses or pantsuits or skirts with the dreaded sneakers.  It's the only shoe I can wear and not cry out in pain.  The doctors say it's because of the foam support.  Meh.  I always frowned at the ladies I saw in dresses or suits that were wearing them.  Oh how the tables of turned.  Damn you karma.

So here we are.  I have has an MRI.  I have seen a neurosurgeon who referred me to an Orthopedic Surgeon because my MRI did not indicate anything in my spine or the lumbar area.  His diagnoses is that my left hip is the culprit.  Oh and?  I'm still in pain.  So the game plan is physical therapy, aquatic therapy to relieve my joints and light walking.  Just how am I supposed to bring the sexy back with light walking??? 

I go to work, I try and act as normal as possible.  I smile, I laugh, I act interested in whatever you are telling me but really, all that is going through my mind is how much I want this pain to stop. How much I want to be and feel like myself again. 

Let me tell you, my depression has reared her ugly head and has taken over my life.  Simply because I am weak, vulnerable and feel so inadequate and see no end of this hell in sight.  There are days when all I want to do is sleep.  If I sleep, I won't be feeling the pain.  When I'm awake, I now look for elevators and escalators.  Anything where I don't have to lift my leg.  IT.SUCKS.  And you know, for the most part, my coworkers have been amazing and sympathetic.  But as in any workplace, there are a few negative Nellies that have even doubted my pain.  I try to not let that pettiness get to me, but on the days where I am literally hanging by a thread, it becomes extremely difficult to do.

But I march on.  I'm no quitter.  I may feel like quitting sometimes, but I won't.  So for now, this is my new normal.  Until I get a handle on what's going on.  And I'm hoping the Ortho, who I see this week, will give me a better game plan and we start kicking this pain's ass.

Anyway bloggies, this is what I have been up to lately.  I've been away too long.  I will remedy that.  Oh and I would be remiss if I did not mention that baseball season (my second favorite time of the year) is in full swing (see what I did there?) and my Astros are in FIRST.PLACE.  See? Silver linings everywhere.  We just have to know where to look

It's a new week bloggies.  Make it count.

-peace

Monday, February 13, 2017

To My Valentines

In honor of Valentine's Day I wanted to share a few of my favorite poems and/or verses from some of my favorite poets.  Whatever your circumstances are today, I hope you love.  I wish you love.  I hope you enjoy the poems and as a bonus, an original from me. Meh, it's sappy and trite and sugary sweet, but I wrote it and I am a lover of love.  Ever the hopeless romantic, even when I don't have a beloved.
So sit back and enjoy the words my lovelies.

-peace

Immortal Beloved
“Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, Be calm–love me–today–yesterday–what tearful longings for you–you–you–my life–my all–farewell. Oh continue to love me–never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved. Ever thine. Ever mine. Ever ours.”
- Ludwig van Beethoven

Sonnet XVIII
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's leaves hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
-William Shakespeare

Sonnet XLIII
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
-Elizabeth Barret Browning

Song of the Open Road
"I give you my love more precious than money,
I give you myself before preaching or law;
Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me?
Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?"
-Walt Whitman

For You
In all my dreams
I never imagined
what loving you could do to me
How deep I would fall
or the immeasurable happiness
my heart could feel

At times I wondered if you even existed
While all along
you were right there

Your heart
your tenderness
your kind soul
showed me what I had been longing for
How sweet, my love
you are to me
The world on a platter
you give to me

I love you beyond measure
from my heart
to the moon
to the stars
deeper than the oceans
higher than the skies

My eyes well up with tears
but not of sadness
only love
only peace
only happiness

Only you.
-Yvonne J. Salvatierra

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Let's call this: Shoulda stayed in bed kinda Sunday...

Today was weird.  Or maybe I was just weird.  Or still am weird.  Meh.  So, the sun came out first of all.  Why is that weird? Well for one thing, it rained almost every day last week up until last night.  And not just little annoying rain.  This was the "come at every direction" kind of rain and it rained non-stop last night.  And for another thing, the winds were so heavy that my neighbor's front window busted/shattered.  Neighbors came together and helped her and her husband put a board up for the time being. The roaring winds were equal opportunity offenders.  They didn't care who or what you were, if you were in their path, you were going down, no questions asked. Don't believe me? You should have seen my hair!

It was a beautiful day aside from the hounding winds.  Had a late lunch with a friend and good conversation but even she noticed that my mood was off.  But at least she made me laugh -a lot and often. So thank God for that.  We parted ways and off I went to the nearest Kroger to buy groceries and blah, blah, blah.

Ever have one of those days that no matter what you do, you start crying at the mere thought that you "may" start crying? No? That's just me?  Yeah it figures.  Well bloggies, that is how I have been feeling lately.  Today, however, the urge and the sadness or whatever it was I was feeling, was a million times stronger.  I don't know why exactly my emotions are all over the place.  I go from overwhelming sadness to bursts of anger to downright rage.  Sometimes all at the same time.  Now, I know what some of you may be thinking and trust me, the thought has crossed my mind too.  Being that I just turned fifty a few months ago, there is that slight possibility I may be menopausal -ugh! Even typing that word I cringe a little a lot.  The thing is that I already went to that doctor and she said I was not anywhere near that yet.  So who knows? Maybe I'm just crazy? Or depressed.  Or both.

For the love of all things wonderful, if you're still reading this, thank you!  Really.  I know I sound like a deranged woman but trust me, I'm not.  At least not all the time.  Heh. 

Come back, I promise to redeem myself.

New week is upon us, make it count.

-peace.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

And again...

Well, so much for the Cinderella ending that so many of us were hoping for.  As has become custom in my fair city, our hopes of  advancing in the playoffs were shattered in the blink of an eye last night.  Again. 

It's so frustrating and exciting and sad all at the same time.  You have to understand, my angst (and a few thousands of other Houstonians) goes back to the days of the Houston Oilers.  Remember them?  We never did "knock the son of bitch in"  Only a few will get that quote.  Then came the new franchise.  New hope.  New beginnings.  And all these years later, we're still waiting.  It's almost as if we are cursed (I've written about this before).  Sam Houston must have really pissed someone else and they felt the need to  put a curse on him and his city and all sports teams.  Heh.  But for real, what gives? 

I've grown immune to feeling loss or pain over these Houston sports teams of mine.  Seriously.  Last night, when all hope was lost, I just laughed at my brothers who were cussing and yelling at the tv screen.  And because I'm a big sister and love getting under their skin, I started singing the old Oilers fight song: "Luv ya Blue" The look on their faces was priceless.  

And just like that, the season is over.  Again.  But rest assured, the ever hopeful will be back again next season (myself included) to root, to hope and in some instances, to pray for a winning season.  I really, really, wanted a miracle this season.  Since Houston is hosting Superbowl LI, I hoped with all my might that the Texans would pull it off and be in the show.  The icing on the cake would have been a total Texas Superbowl: Texans vs. Cowboys.  But that was not meant to be either.  And before you ask, no I am not a  Cowboys fan.  NEVER.EVER.WILL.BE

Oh well, only 78 days until my Astros opening day!  Silver linings everywhere.