New Year's Eve, red panties, life lessons and a toast!

I've been struggling with this particular post for the last couple of days.  Maybe it's because this will be my "So long 2011!" post, or maybe because some of what's happened to me this year is still too painful to face.  Or, maybe because I hate goodbyes.  Who knows really.  Certainly, not me.  This year began quite promising for me.  I had my list of New Year's resolutions.  I knew what I had to do to get those things crossed off my list.  I was ready, eager and full of hope.  Here's the thing, what "we" plan, and what life actually allows to transpire, are two totally different things.  The key to succeeding, however, is how we choose to handle what life throws at us.  You know what I'm talking about right? Those pesky curve balls.  So I've never really been a great catcher.  It seems the more life kept throwing at me, the more I took, but also, the more I dropped.  And sadly, because of that, I hurt people I care for along the way and was hurt by people who I thought cared for me.  I learned quite a bit about myself as well.  I learned that I am stronger than I know.  I learned that it's okay to stand up for myself, to be my own advocate.  I learned that saying goodbye to someone you love with all of your heart, and genuinely care for, is in fact, THAT painful.  I learned that mourning the loss of a friendship is normal.  And has no time restraints.  I learned that hate is a wasted emotion.  I learned that just because you give 110 percent of yourself, doesn't mean that everyone else will, and sometimes, that's okay.  More than anything, I learned that life is much too short to stay angry or bitter or unhappy.  As I look back at 2011, I could wallow and be sad for all of the misfortunes to happen to me and my family.  But I won't.  Instead I embrace the stupid curve balls.  Learn from them and hope that things will get better.  They have to. 

Change scares me.  I like familiarity.  But I know that change is necessary to grow.  With the new year literally days away, I am looking forward to it with trepidation.  Change makes me anxious.  I don't have a list of things I need and want to do this new year. I instead wrote down what I want my life to be like.  And what steps I need to take, to make my life that way.  Will I succeed?  Time will tell.  But even if I don't accomplish everything, I won't see it as a sign of failure.  How can do-ers, be failures?  It's those non-do-ers that fail.  At least, that's what I think.  Besides, resolutions are overrated. 

So tell me, what are you hopeful for this new year?  Do you have any regrets?  I try not to but unfortunately, I do have one very grave regret this year.  Since there is nothing I can do about it now, I just write about it.  You may or may not have read some of it in posts pasts.  Heh.  I'll never tell!

I have a question though, for you.  What the hell does Auld Lang Syne mean and why is it sooooo  depressing? Or sound so depressing?  Good lord!  I dunno, I've never liked that song.  I read about it tonight somewhere, on MSN I think.  They were doing a story about New Years Eve and that stupid song came up.  It doesn't give me the warm fuzzies at all!

So that's it then.  In a few days we will be ringing in the new year.   I will be out celebrating with the "Usual Suspects", we will all be wearing red panties no doubt.  What? It's a tradition or a folklore or maybe just something else to give us singles something to hope for!  I don't know where it started but it's been said that every NYE, if you're single and female, you are to wear red panties (though, we recently discovered that it may be yellow instead) and that will bring you love in the new year.  Of course, it has yet to work out for me, so this year, one of the Usual Suspects suggested we wear red AND yellow panties -just in case!  Hey, a girl's gotta do, what a girl's gotta do!  At any rate, wherever I am and whatever I am doing, at the stroke of midnight,  I will raise a glass to all of you,(unless I'm kissing someone, if that's the case then you guys are just going to have to wait) the oldies, and the newbies.  For coming to visit my blog, for giving me advice, for your comraderie and solidarity (heh), and for helping me grow as a writer and a blogger.  May the new year bring you good health, a lot of  love, happiness and laughter, and may none of you know pain and sorrow in 2012!

Cheers!

catching up!

Hello all! OH EM GEE it feels good to be back! Not that I went anywhere really.  Well, unless you count the doctor's office about a million times, because then yes, I did go somewhere.  Heh,  I know, I'm confusing you.  It's okay, the feeling passes.  Anyway, so kids, how was everyone's Christmas? What did Santa bring you? What'd he forget?  I think my stuff must all be on back order or something because I woke up Christmas morning and ran outside but didn't see the red convertible that I asked for.  Or the "man of my dreams" waiting for me under the mistletoe.  Yeah, I'm sure that's what happened.  Back orders.   In reality, I totally got sick and am still sick.  I'll spare you details but suffice to say, my Christmas sucked.  I spent it home alone.  I wasn't well enough to travel to my cousin's house.  I missed the caroling that I looked forward to so much.  I didn't see a lot of my family, that I only get to see once a year.  To say I was bummed about that would be an understatement.  But amidst the medicine induced fog I was in, I counted my blessings and considered myself to be incredibly fortunate to have all that I have.  Besides, I got to sit in front of the Christmas tree and admire the very elaborate nativity scene that my mom and my aunt created.  I listened to music, drank my hot chocolate and remembered Christmases from long ago.  I've also been using this time to read up on blogs I have not read, writing, trying clean out the "clutter" of 2011, to make room for 2012.

But enough about me.  Your turn.  Fill me in.

Wishing you...

Peace, hope, love and laughter.  May Santa fill your life with everything your heart desires!

That is my wish for all of you!

Merry Christmas everyone!  xoxoxo

Bah Humbug -or Flu bug!

Hello all! Miss me? I've missed you! So much so, that I forced myself out of the comfort of my own bed -that at the moment, is resembling a medicine cabinet -and came here, where everybody knows my name, to tell y'all that you're missed tons but a sucky chest cold/sinus infection, has prevented me from coming to my "happy" place.  Yes, that's right folks.  While many others will receive pretty, shiny things from Santa, it seems I have received a bad cold.  Which is equivalent to receiving coal in your stockings. 

That's it.  That's all I can muster up for now.

Time to rehydrate and go pass out. 

Peace, love, and all things happy to you all!

Here We Go a-caroling...

A friend of mine posted on Facebook that she and her newborn baby were surprised earlier this evening by Christmas carolers at her door.  That made me happy, nostalgic, and a little sad.  Sad because no one does that anymore.  Kids today are so different.  Not just the little ones, the big ones too.  I remember being one of those carolers.  First, in elementary school.  I went to a small, neighborhood parochial school, where everyone knew everyone.  Every December, the choir at the school would pile into the back of a teacher's pick-up, song sheets and guitars in hand, and go door to door around the neighborhood, singing carols.  Sometimes, we were met with doors being slammed in our faces.  RUDE!  But mostly, we were met with smiling faces and sometimes, on that rare occasion that it was cold, hot chocolate.  Then, in high school, I joined the choir again, and we would go to hospitals, or homes for the elderly.  No matter how sick they were or if they believed in the meaning of Christmas or not, they were always happy to see us.  And they sang and danced along too.   For a few hours, I'd like to believe that our presence brightened up their lives.  I  had totally forgotten about that time of my life.  Had it not been for my friend's post earlier, who knows when I would have thought about it.  I miss  that.  This Christmas-eve, my entire family will be together.  The married folk take turns with their respective in-laws each year.  Last year was the year that everyone went their separate ways.  This year, we'll all spend it together.  So I decided we're going caroling.  That's right, I'm THAT girl.  We'll be at one of my cousin's home, and her neighborhood has tons of kids, so I figured we'd blast her neighbors.  What? I don't live there.  I've already printed the song sheets, and we've got flute and guitar players in our family bringing their respective instruments.  A piano player too, but we can't haul around the baby grand! Heh.  So I'm excited about this, can you tell?  Hopefully, it will all work out.

Anyway, that's what was on my mind tonight.  I guess my inner child is coming out to play.  Christmas time is so much fun! 

Oh wait, something else on my mind tonight. Mugginess, humidity and rain.  That's what's forecast for our fair city all weekend.  Yesterday it was 40 degrees out.  Who says the weather isn't schizo? O.M.G.  We went from heaters to air conditioners in just a span of a few hours.  Texas weather.  Gotta love it!

Yeah that was random, I know.  Helloooo.  Do you read my blog???  Moving on. 

So what about you?  Singing.  Yay or nay?  Who cares if you can carry a tune or not.  The important thing is that you do it and feel fabulous about it.  At least, that's what I think.  My favorite carol to sing is Jingle Bells.  But my favorite to listen to and occasionally, whisper to is, O Holy Night. 

Tell me yours.

is it really only monday?

i'm so tired.  my brain is drained, my body aches, and yet, i can't seem to shut off the voices in my head that are screaming my "to do" lists (yes i have more than one) at me.  as if i wasn't aware of them already.  hmmf!  o.m.g.

what's up bloggies? as you can probably tell, i'm a little bit stressed.  and the icing on the cake? (there's always cake with me, come on now!)  i think i'm getting sick.  i can't get sick. not now. it's not a good time!  i don't really think there is ever a good time to get sick, but people are always saying that, "it's no a good time..."  meh.  but really, it's not!  work is literally kicking my ass.  we've had back to back to back trials in the past four weeks.  we're in the process of moving office buildings.  we're working on sending out mass mailing to all of our clients, courts, counsel, the mail man, etc., and we still have to pack up all of our crap this week and have everything boxed up for the movers.  moving day is saturday and will more than likely trickle into sunday.  guess what i'll be doing all weekend? be jealous.  my boss, or as i affectionately call him, "queso grande" (big cheese) obviously was not thinking clearly when he decided to move during the holidays. 

sigh.

oh well.  it is what it is.  i'm grateful for my job.  in other news, amidst the chaos at the office and the impending move, i'm still going to somehow manage to find time to attend three office christmas parties this week.  i've got one wednesday, thursday and friday night.  hahaha, i'm a machine, i tell ya!  no worries.  i've seemed to have mastered the art of "not sleeping". 

so that's what's going on with me this week.  what about you?

happiness is...

houston texans pulled it off!  that is all.

on being single during the holidays

Well it's happened.  The anxiety of being alone during the holidays has laid claim on my chest.  I can feel it every time I take a breath.  That tightness and overwhelming feeling of anxiousness that overcomes me like clockwork, every December.  Something about seeing them, you know, the "couples"  parading around.  Doing what couples do, sometimes alone and sometimes with other couples.  I ventured out to lunch last weekend by myself.  No big deal.  I do that often.  But this time, as I sat at my table for one, I glanced around and saw nothing but people paired off.  Old, young, heterosexual, homosexual, hell, I even saw dogs paired off.  No joke!  And then there was me.  Alone.  Reading my book, enjoying my lunch.  Even walking through the mall I noticed them.  Holding hands, exchanging glances, kisses, shopping for gifts and what not.  When I went to get my tree last weekend, I  remember seeing a couple, newlyweds.  They were buying their first Christmas tree together.  They were so cute! I secretly envied them.  I know, I know, totally wrong.  You see, normally  stuff like that rolls off my shoulders.  I don't have time to let it bother me.  But this time of year, well, it's different.  I don't know, maybe I'm the only single person who feels this way, maybe there are others.  It is what it is, I get that, truly I do.  But just once, I'd like to have someone at Christmas time, on New Year's Eve and not be "party of one".  I haven't been in a relationship in a very long time.  Friends and family alike, tell me I'm too picky.  Maybe.  But I deserve what I want.  And I am not settling for anything less.  Still, I conjure pictures of me and "my" guy all the time.  Sometimes he has dark hair, sometimes, light.  Sometimes, he's a lawyer, sometimes a teacher, even a writer.  The face is always fuzzy.  But I 'll know him, when I find him.  Anyway,  I'm not bashing being single.  I rather enjoy it.  I love the freedom I have to come and go as I please, at a moment's notice, without having to consider anyone else's feelings.  I love my independence.  But it gets lonely sometimes.  A lot of times actually.  The holiday season just exacerbates these feelings.  I suppose it is also because I am one of the lone remaining survivors of  this dying breed -Single and female.  At least in my family and in my circle of friends.

So what does a single woman do to get out of this "rut" that wants to overtake her usual, happy, go-lucky self?  Well, I light candles and pray to all the saints try to maintain an active social life.  I've never met a stranger.  I call on my friends and if they're not available, I venture out on my own.  It's funny because when I was much younger, you would never catch me eating alone, much less going to a movie alone. What would people think??? Yeah well, I could care less what people think now.  I also do the usual things to keep active, gym, volunteer, drink wine -because wine fixes everything, don't you know? 

I suppose the same could be said for single men.  But I'm not entirely convinced on this.  I mean, I think it's totally different for them.  Being a single man at any time, usually means they're on the "prowl" or they're "cool" because they're single and not "tied down"  At least that's what some of my single guy friends say.  Again, I don't have a clue.  I'm totally winging it here.

Hmm, lots to ponder here right?  So this is what was on my mind tonight.  I feel slightly better because I shared it with you.

That's all I got tonight bloggies.  I'm off to write my letter to Santa, if I send it tomorrow, I'm pretty sure it will reach the North Pole in time. Wish me luck!

Whomp Whomp Whomp Wah!

It's almost midnight, in two minutes to be precise.  And I'm still awake.  Wide awake actually.  Great.  Because that's really going to help me in the morning when I have to get up.  It's the end of the weekend already.  What did you do?  Was it fun? Aside from the heartbreak the Cougars caused on Saturday, my weekend was grand! 

When last we met, I was totally hyped for U of H's football game that was going to take place on Saturday morning.  Well, as some of you may already know, there wasn't much of a game that took place.  The Cougars didn't just lose.  They were annihilated.  They choked.  There is no other way of saying it.  This was not the team who up until Saturday's debacle, had a perfect record of 12-0!  The game was bad, this coming from a woman that doesn't even really like football.  You would think that Houston sports fans would be used to this by now.  Defeat.  I mean, I don't know what our founding father Sam Houston did to piss off  the universe, but our sports teams just can't catch a break!  And we, the loyal fans, suffer through season after season, playoff after playoff, and always come up short. Oh sure,  the Astros finally made it to the World Series a few years ago, but just the mere thought of how that came out, still gives me hives.  And sure, the Houston Rockets have gone to the the Championship, but that was so long ago, I can barely remember.  Are we, as many people have suggested, cursed beyond repair?  I mean, how much more loss can this city take?  It's like a really bad joke.  Haha, it's not funny anymore, make it stop. 

Moving on.  I bought my Christmas tree today.  Guess how much I paid for it?  Nope. Wrong.  I paid $16.00 for my 6 foot fir tree! That's right, bargain-arama!  I normally spend close to $60-$80 bucks for that type of tree.  And I was totally expecting to pay that this time too.  I walked up and down the tree lined aisles with my mom in tow. We inspected and prodded the trees.  I caught "my" tree perched up against the wall.  Upon closer inspection, I fell in love with it.  It was so pretty and green and just perfect!  I didn't see a price tag on it so I went and asked one of employees for help.  He took a few minutes to give me a price but when he came back he was holding a tag that read "19.99".  Huh? Clearly a mistake. But he seemed really sure and who was I to argue right? Right. I proceed to the cashier to pay and then to my surprise, the cashier says, "That'll be $16.00"  What? Again, I kept my mouth shut and paid her before she told me she messed up or something.  They loaded my tree onto my car and I drove off.
Falalalala la la la la!

Santa, A Reindeer, and some COUGARS!

You know Christmas is right around the corner, when they show Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Santa Claus is Coming to Town in the same week! How do I know this? Because I sure was sitting in front of the television both nights, impatiently waiting for the shows to come on.  What?  Those are my favorites! Well, Santa Claus is Coming to Town is first and Rudolph is second.  Oh what the hell, Frosty the Snowman is third. Annnd, let's not forget Charlie Brown.  I mean, who can forget his pathetic, poor excuse of a beautiful Christmas tree!? There. Now you know.  Anyway,  I am a big kid when it comes to Christmas.  I gleefully watch the aforementioned shows as if I'm watching them for the first time.  I do that every  year. Yes I know I'm forty-five years old.  The thing is, that inner child, the one that still looks at life in wonder, comes out from time to time and I have no control.  What's so wrong about that?  One of my co-workers reminded me that I could record the shows, this after I realized I was going to work late and wouldn't be home in time.  Duh! Of course I know I can record them, truth be told, I own all four videos! -Not.One.Word.  But it's not the same.  It's just not.  You'll be happy to know, I did make it home in time on both nights. So there!  Tonight was Santa Claus is Coming to Town.  Something about that Somber-town and Kris Kringle's soothing sounding voice, and putting "one foot in front of the other", that gets me every time!  What about you? Do you have a favorite cartoon for the holidays? I'm not talking about today's  robotic-like shows, I mean the classics, you know, from back in the stone ages. 

December also means the party season is upon us.  What am I talking about? Well, lawyers like to party. This is their opportunity to mingle and socialize and "network" (come on, you know they never stop!).  I'm not a lawyer, but I work for one.  So this entitles me to attend as many of the parties as I want to.  This year, I have invited the usual suspects (aka as Michelle and Maricela) to accompany me.  I've deemed us Ambassadors of Cheer -kinda nifty huh? Good times will be had for sure!  I'll be sure and keep you posted on our Christmas-parties tour 2011.  You know, so you can take notes.  Heh.

Alright bloggies, the weekend is upon us!  Saturday morning, my alma mater, the University of Houston's football team, plays Southern Mississippi in the Conference USA Championship game. And I've got just one more thing left to say,

GO COOGS!

As My Dating World Turns...

I'm not much of a "dater" per se. I mean, I date, but I don't like to "juggle", so if I'm dating one person, then I'm dating one person.   I've never been able to date Peter on Monday and Steve on Tuesday and Mario on Wednesday.  Do you follow? Good.   My friend Fatima, who as we speak is on a whirlwind dating tour, dates more than Carrie Bradshaw's closet has shoes! Case in point, I was speaking to her over the weekend. We were kind of playing catch up since due to her "dates" we had not been able to get together. She starts telling me about the men she's met recently and how she's dating them -ALL of them. At the same time.   I started laughing at her because she is hilarious! Her philosophy is "If you like it and it feels good, do it and do it as much as you want." Hmm, something to ponder. So I proceed to tell her about my latest dating anectdotes. She listens and then tells me I need to do as she does. But it's just not me. I'm all for having a good time, but dating is so difficult for me. It becomes almost like a chore and well, where is the fun in that? Seriously, I feel like I channel Lucy Ricardo when I'm on a date. Why? Because everything you can possibly think can go wrong, does -pretty much all of the time. There have been a few exceptions but those are few and far between!
Speaking to Fatima led me to take inventory my latest dating war stories. Now I'm talking about first dates only. Relationships -well that's a whole post!  To help you better understand, let me give you a few examples, or laughs -same thing.

1.   On a blind date once, I met my suitor at the agreed lounge only to find out that it was Lesbian night and he and I were probably the only heterosexual couple there.

2.   On that same date, while at Lesbian Wednesday bar, drinking some wine, my suitor proceeds to put his hand on my thigh, and keeps moving it up until I stop him. He smugly tells me that I "know I want it" and starts again with the hand. So, I take my glass of wine, and smile at him as I throw the Merlot in his face.

3.   I went on an amazing (seemingly) date with a man once that seemed too good to be true.  And well, he was. For as it turns out, at the end of our date, right before he tries to kiss me, he tells me that he is really a she that likes to dress up as a man on ocassion, but hey, "You're cool with that right?" Um, NEXT!

4.   There was a guy I really, really liked. We had been talking for months and finally, we went out. Well, he wined and dined me but when the check came he excused himself to the mens room and never came back. Serious!

5.   I once made plans to go out with someone and he asked me to choose the restaurant where we would be going. He said, "Pick your favorite" so I did. Hours before the date, I receive a TEXT from him saying, "You're a little too high-maintenace for me. I'm more a laid back burgers and fries kind of guy. I no longer wish to go out with you."  WTF???  Oh well, at least he let me know and didn't stand me up. (FYI-I'm not high maintenace but I do like the finer things in life on ocassion, sue me.)

6.   Of course, my all time favorite story is the one about the guy that got mad because I wouldn't give him a blow-job at then end of our FIRST date. (For more in depth explanation, please read "Worst.Date.Ever.")

7.   And then let's not forget about my "One Hit Wonder Dates" -the ones that go smashingly well and then they disappear off the face of the earth!

This is why the thought of joining a convent seems more and more appealing to me lately.  Oh who am I kidding? I wouldn't last an hour in there!

And the dating merry-go-round continues...

I should be sleeping but...

It's 1:41 a.m. Saturday morning.  And I'm wide awake.  That's what I get for taking a three hour nap this afternoon. (Friday afternoon, rather) I never take naps but for some reason, I could barely keep my eyes open today.  So I finally gave in and sought refuge on my couch, thinking I'd sleep for half an hour or so. Heh.  Wrong.  Anyway, so that's my long-winded answer on why I'm still awake in the wee hours of the morning. 

Let's talk turkey! How was yours?  I hope those of you who celebrate Thanksgiving had a fabulous one.  Mine was pretty great!  For the first time in months, I had a "happy" day.  And for that alone, I am eternally grateful.  Little things like that, mean the world to me.  I was surrounded by my family.  As irritating and obnoxious as some of them are or can be sometimes, they're my family, and I love them  very much.  So a great time was had by all!

Let's talk Black Friday.  For those that don't know, the day after Thanksgiving has long been the busiest shopping day of the year, often referred to as “Black Friday” because it is the day that retailers become profitable thus moving from “the Red” into “the Black.  In other words, retailers sucker people in into thinking that they absolutely have to get up in some cases, midnight in order to go and get first dibs on the great sales that the stores are having.  It's gotten so ridiculous lately, that this year, there were people camping out since Monday in front of the stores (tents and all) just so they could be first in line or at the very least, second or third.  Crazy right?  I just can't justify losing sleep to go shopping only to save a few bucks.  That's just not computing in my brain.  Don't get me wrong, I love a great bargain, but not enough to sacrifice my sleep.  That's sacred.

 So what did I do today?  A whole lotta nothing.  And I loved it!  Best thing about today?  Watching my alma mater, the University of Houston win their 12th game in a row! 12-0 baby!!!  Go Cougars!!!

Alright, this chica is going to "occupy" her bed,  and stop talking in third person

Good night!

Happy Thanksgiving One and All!

I am so grateful for all that I have and even what I do not have.  I am rich in health, family, friends, employment and my bloggies.  Oh and also for stretchy pants, as I will most definitely need them later today, after I consume about a million calories!

From my little corner of the world, to yours, HAPPY THANKSGIVING, with love!

Dream Weaver

Thanks to this post http://crazywithasideofawesomesauce.blogspot.com/2011/11/dreams.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogspot%2Frdbl+%28Crazy+with+a+side+of+Awesome+Sauce%29 I decided I would compile a short list of some of my dreams.  We all have them, don't we?  The thing about dreams/aspirations for me, is that I tend to be afraid of them.  Meaning that deep down, in the core of my lack of self-esteem and confidence, I hold this fear that I will never make any of them (dreams) come true.  Of course nothing could be further from the truth, but it's a struggle for me and one I deal with almost on a daily basis. 

Okay, so this "dreams" list of mine, is no particular order of significance.

1.  Conquering my demons
2.  Travel to Spain and to Italy for long periods of time
3.   Become a paid writer
4.   Sell my screenplay to a major production company
5.   Find inner peace
6.   Do something outside my norm at least twice a year
7.   Having healthy and loving relationships (family, friends, significant other, employment)
8.   Become Oprah rich (ok, that's a pretty far-fetched dream.  I'd settle for just "rich")
9.   Make a lasting impression on people I meet along the way
10. Make a difference

Do-able?  Totally.  At least, in my head.  I believe dreams force us to probe into ourselves and deal with the "crud" that we don't always want to face or deal with. 

What are your thoughts? 

Barry Manilow and Closure

Earlier this evening, while driving home, I saw a man on the street that was a dead ringer for Barry Manilow.  No lie! Could have been him or his twin!  Instinctively, I grabbed the cell and started to dial your number.  Who else but you, would see the humor?  But then I remembered, tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, and continued driving.  My eyes welled up with tears.  I miss you.  So much.  You have not a clue.  It's stupid really.  This whole scenario that transpired.  Why I am wasting my time and emotions on someone who clearly did not give a damn about me is beyond comprehension.  Oh wait. I know why.  Because I'm a masochist, that's why. 

Ugh! I hate this! I hate it so much!  Why did you have to be the jerk that everyone told me you were? Why didn't I listen to them? Why did you have to prove them right? 
I know I have to let this go.  But I can't right now, not just yet.  I keep hoping that I'll somehow miraculously "see the light" and get what happened.  Bleh.  Who am I kidding?  That's not happening.  And while both M&M have told me ad-nauseum to "forget about him", I can't.  How do you just "forget" the past five years of your life?  Michelle answered it best, "The same way he forgot you.  That's how.  Just do it."  Harsh? Maybe.  But true.  I know I will let it go.  I'm actually doing better than I was months ago, when this saga originally took place.  But then something happens or I get good news or have something hilariously funny to share and I reach for that phone again. He was my "person" dammit! 

The best thing that happened in my so called friendship with R, was that I learned (albeit the hard way)  that I will not let anyone treat me less than how I deserve to be treated. Ever.  And I won't settle for mediocre or fair-weathered friends.  I know who I am. I know I am a good person.  I know I didn't deserve this.  I am true to myself and to those that I choose to have in my life.  And for that, I am ever grateful.

So maybe this post, is the last chapter of that part of my life.  I am letting it go.  I am letting you go.

If Only In A Dream

"I came to tell you that I'm sorry."
My heart raced at the sight of him.  Hands shaking, I opened the screen door and let him inside.
"Thanks." he muttered as he stepped into the house.

We stood there, staring at each other, for what seemed like forever, but really, was only a few seconds.  Finally, I told him to take a seat and offered him something to drink.  He declined on both counts.

"I miss you.  I miss talking to you and I miss our friendship. I was an idiot! I'm sorry Lola, I'm sorry I hurt you!"

I had been waiting and waiting for years for this apology.  I finally had it and I was at a loss for words.
He realized this and filled the void, "I fucked up ok? Is that what you want to hear? I did.  I hurt you.  You were my best friend and I'm standing now in front of you, asking for forgiveness..."

My eyes brimmed with tears, I could barely make him out as he stood a few feet in front of me.
Without any further hesitation, I threw my arms around him and hugged him.  He hugged me back.  We stayed that way for a long time.  Just holding each other, me crying softly, and him telling me over and over how stupid he had been.

"I forgive you!"  I meant it.  I forgave him, just like that all hurtful words, painful acts disappeared.  Forgiven.  We smiled at each other and an overwhelming feeling of calm, mixed in with happiness filled my heart.  We hugged again...

"Lola,  wake up, it's time."

I opened my eyes, tears falling down my face. Reality sinking in.  Gustabo was never here.  Slowly, my mind started focusing on the present.  Sadly, I remembered that he had been killed in a car accident three days before.  The visit had all been a dream. 

"Are you okay?"  My sister asked me.

I stared blankly at her and nodded.

As I drove to the church where the funeral mass would take place, I quickly glanced up at the sky and whispered, "I forgive you."  And I smiled.
___________________________
*I don't know why but death has been on my mind a lot lately.  It's trickling over to my topics for my stories and poetry.  Hope you like this one!

"Moving on" - a short, short, short story

Saturdays are normally set aside for running errands, maybe some shopping, definitely a visit to the grocery store and let’s not forget laundry, you know, chores and what not.  Normally. Today however, I woke up, sun was shining, and my inner child refused to cooperate in getting any of the aforementioned done. So, giving in to "the kid", I showered, got dressed, and took off.   It had been ages since I had done anything like this!  Ages…  Just me and this beautiful Saturday morning!  A “beautiful” day merits "top down on the car" kind of music.  I pop in my "old-school"  mix CD –what can I say?  I love "old school" music!  First up, Earth Wind & Fire's "September" “Do you remember?” ---I belted out loudly.  The wind blowing in my hair created a mini-tornado.  I glanced at myself in the rear-view mirror and laughed at what I saw.  I found myself on I-10 West, San Antonio bound!  No particular reason.  I’d drive there, have a nice lunch, walk around the Riverwalk, maybe shopping and then head back.  As I drove away from the city and the traffic, my mind began to wander... 

"I still can’t believe you are not here anymore.  Well, not physically I mean.  I miss you so much!  Do you miss me?  Sigh.  You know, I’ve often wondered what our lives would have been like if you had not gotten sick.  Do you? Would we be married?  Would we have kids?  Would you still dance with me under the stars, even when there was no music?  I miss that a lot.  Dancing with you.  You were always better at it than me.  Just so you know, I’m okay.  Really. I mean, it took me a long, long time to feel this way.  But I really am.  It was scary there for a while.  I didn’t think I was going to get over losing you.  But I did.  You should be very proud of me!”

"I am proud of you.  And I miss you too, so much."

Whoa! I glanced trepidly to my right, only to see Alex sitting beside me.  He saw the look of terror and disbelief on my face and quickly tried to calm me down.  "It's okay baby. It's okay.  Don't freak out.  I'm here.  I'm really here.  You're not imagining it."

Refusing to look to my right again I kept my eyes on the road and continue to drive.  Turning the music up louder,  to drown out my thoughts and my apparent hallucinations.

He touched my arm trepidly.  "Pull over" he said in that "take charge" voice of his.

Instinctively, I do as I am told and pull the car over on the side of the road. 

I slowly turn my face to see him staring back at me.  Sitting in the passenger seat, smiling.

"Oh God, it's really you isn't it? I'm not crazy???" 

He takes me in his arms and holds me.  I inhale his smell.  "You're not crazy Caro.  I'm here to tell you that I'm okay.  Go on with your life.  Be happy..."

I look into those beautiful green eyes that I fell in love with a lifetime ago.  I touch his face, run
my fingers through his head full of thick curls.  And then we kiss.  Hungrily, yet softly. 

"I'm sorry.  I'm sorry we fought that day... It was my fault!"  I was saying what I had been holding in for so long.

He cupped my face with his hands.  "No.  It was not your fault.  It just happened.  I love you.  Go on with your life.  I love you..."

Just then this buzzing noise went off and I jolted up in bed.  Alarm clock.  Sigh, so it was a dream.  Still more asleep than awake, I get out of bed and walk over to the window.  The sun just coming out. I stare out at the sky.  "Thank you Alex..."

*Just an idea I have swirling in my head.  What'd you think?

change is coming

It's official.  The Houston Astros have been sold and will be moved to the American League in 2013.  Excuse me while I throw up a little in my mouth.  To say that I am totally bummed out about this new deal, would be an understatement. First, no offense to anyone out there but, I HATE the American League. I've been a National League kind of girl since I went to my first Astros game at the Astrodome, way back when.  Why does Texas need two American league teams?  The Rangers are doing just fine on their own.  Ok so my beloved Astros have seen better days, and yes they totally sucked this year.  But still, why the American league?  That's not the solution that so many of us in Houston were looking for!  There are talks among the masses of boycotting the upcoming season and forgetting about their home team altogether. But I could never do that.  I'm not a fair-weathered fan. Is that so wrong? :)

Alright.  I just needed to get that off my chest.  There is one teeny, tiny, silver lining in all of this, . two words: Derek Jeter.

Good night!

some things are better left unsaid -or not

If memory serves me correctly, I wrote my first story in the fourth grade. Mrs. Gaston was my teacher and told us to write about anything we wanted to, but make it a story.  I took it upon myself to create what back then, for a 4th grader, was a masterpiece! I wrote about living in Alaska.  Mind you, I had never even been there and knew very little about it.  Nevertheless, I received a gold star (the ultimate of ultimates) for my prose and it was displayed on the tack board in the front of the classroom for the entire month! Not too shabby eh? I remember I continued writing short stories, stuff I made up about my classmates. The funny thing was I would use everyone's real names, real situations and make up all kinds of stuff! I then would pass around my notebook/tablet to whomever wanted to read what I wrote. Scandalous! Some of my classmates were not too amused but most were intrigued and hooked! Soon I was writing for them all the time and I soon figured out, as long as I wrote to the masses, I was popular! Hmmm, some things never change.


Writing calms me down, excites me, and sometimes, forces me to look into myself -the self that I have a hard time dealing with. I'm not what you call "structured" when it comes to my writing. I'm all over the place! lol Because of this, I get myself into trouble at times. Being very impulsive, I often (too often if you ask me!)act before thinking things out, or speak without regard of the consequences -I can't help it. I'm an "act now" "think later" kind of gal!

I suppose I started this blog to showcase not only what comes out of my mind but also to gain insight into my psyche -if that makes sense? I realize that I'm putting myself in a very vulnerable place. I mean, most of the people that read or will read my blog are people I know. Do I gloss over my words for fear of retaliation from everyone? Hmm, I thought about it and came up with this rationalization: If I have to mind my "p's" and "q's", worry about what others will think of me, of what I write, then, I'm defeating my purpose. I write what I want, however I want. It's what I do. So, although some things ARE better left unsaid, I will take my chances and write the good word or bad word -enough said.

Loud Silence

In the wee hours of the night when all is quiet and dark and calm
it is then that my thoughts are loudest most of all.

I try and quiet the clutter in my mind
but it's on it's own schedule
wreaking havoc
causing me to lose sleep
to worry
to wonder
and tonight,
to cry.

Sometimes, it is this silence, that speaks the loudest. 
Too bad there is not a mute button.

my "monster" and me -an update of sorts

November is two weeks old today.  The holidays are right around the corner and soon, the world will once again, grow a year older.  Time is literally flying by.  What's up guys?  How was the weekend? Share with me. 

As for me, when last we met, I got all emotional and had a "wah" moment.  I wrote about how the "monster"  aka "depression", was back and how I was afraid that I was falling deeper and deeper into that "black hole" that has become more and more difficult for me to climb out of lately.  Writing about what I'm feeling or going through emotionally, helps me more than you can ever know.  But I understand if you are put off by it.  The "morose" world is not for everyone. Heh.   At any rate, I'm taking steps to help me cope with this latest "episode" of mine.  But as with everything, it takes time.  I wish it didn't.  I wish "recovery" was instantaneous.  How great would that be?  Sigh, yeah, it's a nice thought anyway.   Over the weekend, I had someone tell me, "You don't look depressed."  I was a little taken aback.  He caught me off-guard.  But I told him that just because I wasn't laying in bed, under the covers, in the dark, didn't mean I wasn't sad or depressed or sick.  He told me I just needed to get laid.  Good lord, why is that MAN's  cure all for everything???  As if that would solve all of my problems.  I mean, don't get me wrong, it would be incredible wouldn't it?  "Feeling under the weather? Have a little sex".  "Stressed about work?  Go have sex!" Ha.  If only life were that easy guys.  Men are so silly!   I understand that some people, ok, a lot of people, cannot understand that being depressed is an illness.  It's not something that we can just "get over" or "snap out of."  Again, wishful thinking.  And I hate that I have to defend how I'm feeling.  I mean, I can be smiling and laughing on the outside, but on the inside I'm falling apart.  I don't know how to explain it so you will understand.  Then there are times when I am so dark and just very sad.  Those are the times when I don't get out of bed.  When I have to literally make myself get up, or brush my teeth.  When it takes every ounce of energy that I can find, just to will myself to open my eyes.  That's what most do not see.  Sure, I have my crying spells too.  It's sounds weird I know. But it is what it is.  You know, I have good days, good months and even years, and then I have bad days that last forever -to me at least.  I don't have an agenda.  I can't predict when the "monster" will show up.  I can only try with every fiber of my being to fight it and battle it, so it doesn't take over my life.  Sometimes I win and sometimes I lose.  Right now, I'm losing, but I know that it's only temporary.  Better days are ahead for me.  Bleh! So serious on a Monday! What's the matter with me??  At any rate, thanks for allowing to share this with you.  I promise it won't always be so glum.

That's it bloggies. That's all I have today.

You know the drill, new week, new possibilities. Make it happen!

ode to my lover

you always make me smile,
feel giddy with excitement!
the anticipation running high,
bring out the "fun" me that i keep hidden most of the time,
behind work, responsibilities, worries.
Happy, you always make me happy.
Oh FRIDAY, how I love you so!
_______________________________

*Happy weekend! Do something fun and blogworthy, and then come back and tell me all about it! :)

more than this

I participated in this week's writing prompt from RemembeRED:
Doomed relationships:  This week, we asked you to write about a relationship you knew was doomed from the start. It could be your own relationship or one of a close friend or family member. The only thing we required was that it not be fiction.
_____________________________________________________________________
This is my contribution:

 "more than this"

I  knew it the minute I met him.  He was a jerk.  He looked like one, acted like one and was one.  I  saw right through him.  Too bad she didn't.    Love makes you do stupid things.  In hindsight, now, after all these years, she can honestly say she did not love this man.  She loved the idea of loving someone, the idea of having someone in her life and forming a relationship. That is what she loved.  She was tired of being lonely.  So she convinced herself she was in love.  She somehow managed to believe herself that when he hit her, it was because she did something wrong.  It was her fault. But he loved her, apologized, and promised it would never happen again.  And it wouldn't.  Until the next time.  This self-destructive and abusive behavior lasted all of three years.  A lifetime.  Each time she left, determined she was done.  Determined she was strong enough to be alone, each time, he would convince her otherwise.  And so she would return.  Her family and friends suffered for her. They knew she was making a mistake.  Hell, even she knew she was making a mistake, but she just "knew" it would get better.  It never did.  The night he almost beat her to death was the day she left, for good.

To say that this was a relationship that never should have happened, would be putting it mildly.  I can't pretend to know what was going through her head, why she did what she did, why she took the abuse. I can only speculate, that this was how she felt. 

They say time heals all wounds and "they" are right.  But the scars remain forever.

one day at a time, every day...

He's back.
My old friend.
We have a love-hate relationship.
He loves to torture me
I hate him for it.
He comes to me in doses. 
Sometimes full
other times, only half
Still, ever painful.

I call him "Monster"
Others know him as "Depression"
I feel that he is male because he hurts me
like a jilted lover
over and over again.
He's got to be male right?

As hard as I fight him
I feel I am losing this battle.
I've beat him before,
many times.
But this time, I am tired.
So tired.
And I can't see past the tears.
This choke-hold he's got on my entire being,
engulfs me.
I can't breathe.

Sometimes I want to give in and let him win
So I give up.
But then I remember that I am a fighter and I don't like to lose.
Especially to a pseudo man.

God give the strength.
I need help or I will fall deeper into that black hole;
the abyss of sadness and despair.

I don't want to cry anymore.
I hate that I am so weak

Sometimes I make myself believe that this is all a nightmare and I will wake up to "normalcy", but then morning comes, and I realize that I'm living the nightmare.  My battle with depression has been ongoing since my late twenties. The "episodes" come sporadically.  Sometimes I will go years without an episode, sometimes, months. And then there are times, when I live, eat and breathe it, for what seems like forever.  Medication and therapy help. The dreaded phone call has been made, an appointment set, and soon I will once again, be spilling my guts to someone that will listen for an hour, and then tell me to stop talking, and come back next week.  As trivial as I make that sound, the more I talk, and get the "garbage" out, the better I feel. I hate taking medication to "stabilize" my mind.  But I realize that without it, I am doomed.

Then of course, are the nay-sayers, the skeptics, the people that look at me and tell me I'm "faking" it or that I just need to "get over it" already! Believe me, if I could, I would just "get over it"  I want nothing more!  But it doesn't work that way.  Depression is an illness.  It can lead to really bad things.  To them I say, "Fuck you!"  and walk away. I don't have time to convince you.

It's a brand new week, let's ALL make it a great one!  Or try to at least.  :)

Recipe = Memories for a lifetime

Today I'm participating in a writing prompt by RemembeRED.  — Recipe
This week, we’ve asked you to share with us a special recipe. But, we’ve asked you to do more than just list out ingredients. We challenged you to take us back…to take us into your memory, in 500 words or less.
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A dash of memories
Sprinkles of love
A spoonful of warmth

That’s how I would describe the best recipe my grandmother ever gave me. But for you to understand, you would have to know that Christmas time in our household could only mean two things, lots of decorations and TAMALE time! For those not in the know, Tamales are a traditional Latin American dish made of masa (a starchy dough, usually corn based, which is steamed or boiled in a leaf wrapper. The wrapper is discarded before eating) Tamales can be filled with meats, cheese, vegetables, chiles, or anything you deem delicious. (See pic below)

As is customary during the holiday season, (at least in our home anyway) the making of tamales is a pretty big deal. Almost as big a deal as orchestrating Thanksgiving dinner! There were no better tasting tamales than the ones my grandmother used to make. Even now, almost eleven years since her death, I can close my eyes, let my mind drift to early Saturday mornings at abuela’s (grandma) house. She’d call all of her daughters and grandchildren and put all of us to work. Whether it be chopping, mixing, cutting or frying, everyone had a job to do. I loved those times the best. We worked and talked and laughed. And she’d tell us stories of her childhood, or how she met my grandfather. Sometimes, much to the rolling of the eyes of my aunts and my mom, she’d even tell us stories of how our mothers misbehaved while growing up. The time would pass by quickly. And soon, once the tamales were in the oven or on the stove cooking, we’d all seek reprieve in the living room while my grandmother made chocolate caliente (hot chocolate) for us. And then we waited for our labor to be nice and cooked, so we could devour our creations. We had tamales for the entire month of December it seemed. And sometimes, she’d get orders from other relatives or friends. She was always busy with orders. We worried that so much undertaking would take a toll on her faltering health. But she reveled in it. The holidays always make my heart ache for my abuelita. I would give anything to walk into her kitchen and see her standing over the stove, like always. Sometimes, when I go over her house now, if I inhale I can smell of the faint scent of her perfume and of the masa (dough), permeating the air. No greater recipe than that.

Happy Halloween!

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

somewhere over the rainbow...

tears
overwhelming sadness
exhaustion
desperate thoughts and worries
anxiety
lost hope
anger
when will this merry-go round of troubles end?
stop! i want to get off...

it's always been my nature to want to help others.  no questions asked, just help.  it's how i am and always will be. unfortunately, some people take advantage of your kindness and/or mistake your random acts as carte blanc to use you.  i'm just really, really tired. my emotional state is all over the place.

 i am losing myself in other people's problems.  ignoring my own. how do i stop?  if i don't help, i feel like an ass.  as if i am turning my back on people i care for very much. but if i continue as i have been, i will go crazy. i feel as if i'm being pulled in a thousand directions.  while i mastered the art of masking my feelings pretty well, lately i've become pretty transparent and not able to fool anyone.  it's affecting other areas of my life.  areas that need my undivided attention.  i miss r.  i miss my friend very much.  not having him in my life leaves a void.  and yet, i can't get past the hurt and dissullusionment and what transpired to get us where were are today. bleh!  damn it for being a nice person!

and i can't stop crying.  the tears are automatic.  even my writing, it's like a person with a.d.d. on crack!
i'm all over the place -more-so than usual. heh.  oh well, at least my weird sense of humor is still intact.  all is not lost.

i want to run away.  i want to disappear.
overwhelming sadness engulfs my entire being
and yet, i know deep in my heart, that something's got to give and everything will be alright.  the people that are lost and struggling, they will be fine. and me, the person that loves them with all my heart and worries for them as if they were my children, will be alright.  because i have to be.

-this emotional meltdown was brought to you courtesy of "lack of sleep"

happy saturday!

i kissed a skeleton, and i liked it.

Greetings and salutations bloggies!  You know what sucks? The fact that I woke up this morning convinced it was Wednesday.  I even did my "happy middle of the week -it's almost Friday dance" too! It wasn't until I was driving in to work that the djs on the radio mentioned it was Tuesday. Whaaaaat? Whomp, whomp, whomp, waaaaah!  Anyway, how's everyone doing? Tell me about your weekend.  Was it as crazy as mine?  No? Oh come on, you know it was!

My weekend was filled with a birthday happy hour for a friend on Friday, a crazy costume party with friends on Saturday night and a kids Halloween party the day AFTER the the crazy costume party. BIG mistake -for me anyway.  Suffice to say say I downed aspirin like candy all afternoon. 

Is it me? Or does wearing a costume make you a feel a little bit more daring, more with the "I don't give a crap!" attitude?  Or, is it just that playing dress-up somehow buys you a "Do/Say whatever you want" pass for the night?  Hmm.  Just a thought swirling around in my head.  The reason I'm asking is because the party that I went to on Saturday night brought out the inner stalker/bitch/hottie/sexy in everyone it seems.  Ever the observant observer that I am, -heh,  I watched as people who normally are more reserved and quiet, suddenly upon donning their costume -no matter if they were Superman or a bowling pin, or Little Red Riding Hood or The Most Interesting Man in the World, all of sudden lost all inhibition and threw caution to the wind.  Almost akin to a child playing dress-up.  Almost.  I don't know, what do you think?  I tend to agree that wearing a costume somehow makes us feel slightly powerful in our minds and our actions.  Take me for instance, I spotted a hot, sexy, very attractive man sitting all alone on the sofa.  I wasted no time in walking over there, introducing myself and letting him sit on MY lap.  What? He was lonely. And bony.  Very bony.  We kissed and even danced.  Ok, so never mind that it was skeleton and never mind that it was lifeless (as so many of my dates are), still, in my head and in my eyes, he was alive and hot.  And for a dance, all mine.  But you see, I would have done that even if I wasn't wearing a costume.  I don't need to dress-up in costume to act like that either.  Oh no! I'm like that twenty four hours a day, 365 days a year. Ask my friends.  Ok I'm also totally full of it too! I wouldn't do it if I wasn't in costume.  Me? Kiss a lifeless object?  Bahahahahaha!  Oh and in case you're wondering, I was dressed as a biker chick -minus the bike.  I looked hilarious. Take my word for it. 

Alright, so I've babbled long enough. My postings have been inconsistent lately, I realize this.  It's just I've got "life" stuff happening right now that needs my attention. But I miss this place a lot. I'll be back to my old self in a few weeks. Promise.

Happy TUESDAY guys!  Hope it's BOO-tiful! :)

What I Did On My Post-Summer Vacation

I'm baaaack! Relaxed, tanned and hella tired.  But happy.  What's up guys? How is everyone?  What's new?  I don't know about you, but I've been dragging all week! And it's only Wednesday mind you. It could be because I partied like a rock star all weekend, or I'm just allergic to returning to the confines of an office. Or maybe I'd rather be out playing in the gorgeous weather we've been having!  I think it's a combination of all three.  What do you think?  My mini getaway was much needed and deserved.  I only wish I could have stayed longer.  I went to Panama City Beach, FL. over the weekend.  Wow.  It's absolutely beautiful there! I'm a lover of sand and water, so to me, it was nirvana. Our hotel was directly on the beach, so you know I was out there or the pool area about 99.5 percent of the time.  Can you blame me? I had access to everything out there.  Cabana boys to bring me drinky drinks, or towels or just to stare at.  There was a dj in the pool area that played on the ones and twos (heh) cranking out all kinds of tunes and there was a never ending buffet of food available to us at any given time,  to keep us sober to make sure we kept our energy.  I didn't do a lot of sight-seeing. My one and only goal was to go lay on the beach and do a whole lotta nuthin. And I did.   Interestingly enough, everyone we met there was super friendly.  You know me, I never meet a stranger.  So in no time I was making plans with new found friends.  We met this group of guys who were there for a fishing tournament (yeah, I didn't get it either) and surprise, surprise, they hailed from Houston.  Friday night we were in their company for dinner. And the following day, I decided I all of a sudden knew how to play volleyball, and joined in on what I thought was going to be a friendly co-ed game. O.M.G.  Those volleyball players mean business! They don't mess around. I missed an opportunity to spike the ball back to our opponents once, and the looks I got from my teammates were so intense they made the hair on my skin rise!  Needless to say, I took myself out of the game not too long after.  But it was all good. After they won, they came over and high-fived me and said, "No hard feelings."  Um, no, none at all.  Moving on.

The sunsets there are beyond words.  Truly amazing and breathtaking.  I took shots with my camera and hope to have some up soon to share with you.  All in all, my quick getaway was two snaps and a neck roll kind of fun!

This was the view from our balcony. Enjoy!

 

So you wanna break-up? Think again!

So in the local news (although by now I'm sure it's gone national) last night, there was a story about a woman scorned who went a little nutty after her boyfriend broke up with her.  She boasted of emailing and calling her ex-boyfriend over a thousand times. A thousand times. Who does that???  Scratch that.  Why do that???  She also created a blog over the summer and has pages and pages of stories and reasons why she hates this man, loves this man, and why he will regret what he did to her.  She even posts music to her blog.  One of those songs  was Elton John's "Sorry seems to be the hardest word"  Ironic much?  Oh yeah, and she egged his house twice and backed her car into his parked car.  -Sounds perfectly healthy to me.  NOT.  She's since been arrested and is awaiting arraignment.  What is wrong with this woman?  Ok, so a few boyfriends ago, I may have become oh, what's the word, "UPSET" with one of him over something. And I may have thrown a thing or two at him.  Nothing that would really hurt him though, my shoe and a book.  That's all.  But that's about it. And as angry or hurt as I have been, I have never gotten to that "stalker" point or "crazed and deranged" point.  That's not to say that it can't happen. Because let's face it, men sometimes make us do some pretty outlandish stuff! But I'm pretty confident in saying that I don't think I would ever stoop that low.  What's the point?  The only one looking like an ass is "you" or "us" -eh, you know what I mean.  There's no fun in that.  Or even vindication.  Besides, I always leave it to my girl Karma. She always gets her man.  What about you? Ever email or call a significant other a billion times? Share with me. 

So today is my Friday. I'm off tomorrow and will be traveling to get some much needed  fun in the sun.   No, I still haven't packed yet.  But I did buy plenty of sunscreen. That's a start right? Sheddup.  Mere technicalities!  I'll be sure and have a drink or ten while on the beach and toast you guys! 

That's it for now.  Be good and have a great weekend!

Ciao!

Wrong number

To the idiot that decided to call me  in the wee hours of the morning, I hope you die a thousand times in misery.  So last night I went to bed extremely tired. I was so sleepy by 9:30 p.m. that I couldn't even keep my eyes open. (I know, I can't believe it either.)  So I went to bed. Fell fast asleep and was having this incredible dream when the incessant ringing of my cell phone woke me.  Immediately, my heart started pounding as I reached for the phone.  It startled me. No one calls me this late anymore.  For a split second I let myself believe or hope that it was HIM.  I had to blink a few times to focus but when I did, sadly, I noticed that not only did I not recognize the number, but the area code was not one from Texas. WTF?  So, I placed the phone back on the nightstand and tried to go back to sleep.   A few minutes later, the phone rings again, same number.  I still don't answer and try to go back to sleep.  When it rang a third time, I answered it.  Only to be hung up on.  Arrrrgh!  I was pissed! I lay back down but I couldn't fall asleep.  By this time, my anger turned to melancholy.  You see, secretly, deep, deep in my heart of hearts, I wanted it to be someone else.  There is only one person that is privy to me that late (or early -all in how you look at it) at night.  And since "HIM", even the guys that I have dated, don't call me past 10 or 11 at night.  Sigh, so I let myself think about "HIM".  My mind traveled to the "forbidden zone" and I closed my eyes, with pictures of him on my mind.  And I lulled myself to sleep.  Great way to doze off, don't you think?

Funny, I had not thought about him in a while, and today, I couldn't get him out of my mind.  I wondered how he was doing.  If he was happy.  I hope he is!  No matter how the story went, he made me happy, even if it was just a fleeting moment.   Wistful thoughts, and a huge grin on my face.  That was me today.

Sometimes wrong numbers aren't such a bad thing after all.  Ok "wrong number person", I guess you can live and don't have to die a thousand times in misery after all. I take it back. 

Let's catch up!

It's been raining since early this morning.  The skies finally took mercy on our drought ridden state and opened up it's clouds to us. The pitter patter of the the rain hitting the windowpane is like music to my ears.  And to everyone else who's lived in Texas for the past six months or so, I would imagine!  It's a "stay in and do nothing" kind of Sunday.  And if I had not made plans to go watch the Texans football game with the Musketeers, I would have been snuggled in bed with a book or watching a movie, and sleeping during the boring parts.  But no, instead I ventured out to meet the girls, in the pouring rain.  We met up at a popular sports bar.  Stocked with a zillion big screen tv's, plenty of beer and of course, plenty of men to gawk at watch the game with.  We got there early enough so that we were able to snag prime seats to view the game. The game.  Pfft! Fail.  Major fail.  Again.  They lost.  Or rather, they gave it away! Meh!  We enjoyed ourselves but then left to drown our sorrows at a sex shop.  Wait, wait.  Don't go getting all crazy on me!  We went to said sex shop to look for bloomers for one of the Musketeers' Halloween costume.  Among all of the stuff they sale there, they also sale costumes.  Heh.  Have you ever been to one of these places? They've got these "hooker" shoes that put stillettos to shame! And they are so UGLY! But of course, I tried a few pair on and even managed to take a few steps without falling over.  You've got to have mad skillz to wear those babies, that's all I'm sayin!  Oh the things you see and learn about while in those "establishments", priceless!  Once the purchase was made, we again ventured out into the downpour.  We said our goodbyes or yelled them at each other over the pounding rain and wind.  I needed to go home and get ready for the week, etc., you know, cause I'm responsible like that.  And so, I'm now home. And no, I don't have a new computer yet.  I'm actually typing this from my cell phone.  It's taking me FOREVER but hey, at least I'm doing it.  Technology rocks!  It's just that I was going through withdrawals from not being able to write or post comments or read your blogs! A girl can only take so much! And not only that, but I haven't even told you guys about my birthday shenanigans.  -Not even sure if I spelled that correctly.  Bleh.  Anyway, turning forty-five was a bit painful, but nothing I couldn't handle.  Annnnd, I totally got hit on by the parking attendant at my office building, the bartender from the restaurant where I had dinner on Friday night, and my mailman.  Plus, I was told I looked twenty-five, (no lie) by my hairstylist.  She was tipped very well that day!  So I'm not married.  So I'm not dating a Mr. Wonderful, or even a Mr. Could-be-Wonderful. So I don't have any children.  So I don't have my dream job, yet.  So, someone I considered a friend and loved very much, hurt me and is nothing but a farce. So what?  Life is full of surprises and twists and turns.  I'm forty-five and fabulous.  I have a pretty amazing life with some pretty amazing people in it, who love me.  I have discarded that which is toxic to me.  I look forward to what is to be, to what I will create, to what is in store for me.  And that makes me very happy.

I hope Operation Get A New Computer is a success in the very near future because typing this on my phone is a bitch! 

That's it bloggies.  I hope some of you missed me.  I missed y'all. 

Gonna go play in the rain now, have a great week!

October

The weather is gorgeous today.  Low 80s, a cool breeze, sunny skies... Awesomeness!  I love this month.  Not only because I celebrate my birthday, but because it's like the calm before the craziness of the holidays kicks in.  Halloween (yeah, not a holiday but still great!), Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years.  And just like that, the year is over. 

So anyway, what's been going on? Catch me up.  I've been kind of quiet lately.  A lot happening in my life, you know, the usual drama/heart-wrenching life issues that everyone goes through.  Not to mention, my home computer died a horrible death a couple of weeks  ago. And I haven't had a chance to go out and buy a new one yet.  I plan to take care of that at some point during the coming week.  It's awful how addicted I am to that thing! I started going through withdrawals.  I can't write, I can't read your blogs, I can't comment but worst of all, I can't get on Facebook as much as I normally do! Oh the despair!  So yeah, life's been rough lately. ha!

Alright, time to put this post of it's misery.  I'll be back soon with something more palatable.  Promise.

Enjoy your weekend kids!

Yvonne-a-Palooza -and so it begins...

Happy Monday bloggies!  How was everyone's weekend? Great? Good!  One week from today and by God's grace, I will be celebrating my 45th birthday!  Yes that's right, I'm that old!  As is customary in my world, I start celebrating the last week of September and the entire month of October! Too much? Eh, what is too much celebration anyway?  Plus, I'm still young (in my mind anyway) and still terribly cute! What more could I ask for?  So to start off my birthday week, I thought I'd tell y'all about this one time at band camp... KIDDING!  Seriously, I thought I'd share one of my favorite birthday memories. I guess I love the hype leading up to the big day and the celebrating that ensues because as a kid, my mom would always make a big production.  Sure, it may have had something to do with the fact that it was also her birthday, ( I was her 21st birthday gift) but nevertheless, a BIG deal!  I turned 9, and my dad used to work at a Golf/Resort in Conroe.  There was a huge skating rink on the property.  I begged my parents to let me have a skating party there. "We can't afford that place, let's just go to the neighborhood skating rink" was my mom's response.  My dad on the other hand, set a plan in motion.  Since he worked at the restaurant there, he "knew" people. So somehow, some way, my daddy made it so that not only did we get the entire rink to ourselves and our guests for a few hours, but there were clowns, and cake and ice cream, and balloons, lots of balloons on that day.  I was a very happy little girl.  But I think what makes it even more memorable today, is recalling the look of happiness in my mom and dad's eyes, for being able to make me so happy.  It was awesome! 

That was mine, what's a favorite of yours?

It's a new week! Make a FABULOUS one! :)

Bust a Rhyme -sorta

Thank you to everyone who commented and/or sent me an email in light of my last post.  I am fine. I'm better.  And tomorrow is another day.  I do appreciate all the love and support I have received from you, I truly am a lucky girl!  I've not been in the mood to write much lately. At least not in this blog or with any of my stories.  Mostly I've just been writing sappy poetry or my version of poetry. heh.  And I've been writing it in Spanish.  It's such a romantic and sensual language.  I think so anyway.  I'm in that mood.  That mood that is passionate and craving love.  I'm a big romantic softie.  And since I've no one in my life presently to share it with, I write it down instead.  At least I'm writing, right?  Right.  So anyway, other than life reminding me that everything is not always "sunshine and roses", I've been working pretty long hours at the office  and neglecting the gym.  And maybe even me.  I dunno, sometimes it's better to disconnect completely from myself, from others and just focus on things that do not require any emotion.  Does that makes sense?  I hope so, because I'm not really sure how to explain myself in a way that you'll understand.  I'm a jumble of coherent incoherent words.  See?  I'm babbling now.

I guess that's my cue to bust out the poetry. Here it is, first in Spanish and then the English version.

Enjoy! (I hope)

Besame
Acaricia mi boca
con la tuya

Toma mi mano
llevame al cielo
una y otra vez

Bailemos al ritmo de nuestros corazones
Sonriendo el uno al otro
Felicidad iluminando  nuestros rostros

Besame la vida

________________________________

Kiss me
Caress my mouth
with yours

Take my hand
lead me to heaven
over and over again
Where dance to the rhythm of our hearts
Smiling at one another
Happiness illuminating our faces

Kiss my life.

...

So I'm not really in a creative mood.  Hence, the lack of a title for this post.  Apologies.  I'm just down in the dumps.  Alright, topic for tonight?  The matter of friendship.  That's what's been weighing heavily on my heart lately.  What is your definition of a "friend" ? We all know there are great ones out there! Lucy and Ethel, Bert and Ernie, Laverne and Shirley, Laurel and Hardy, and well you get the picture right?  I'm asking because I've realized that perhaps my definition is a bit skewed. Some people come into your life for only a moment and then leave once their "purpose" is met.  There are others who come to you  in the guise of a "friend" and use you to their advantage (if you let them) and then when they are done, they will discard you like trash. Yet there are others that truly mean something to you and those friendships last a lifetime.  I have friends I've known since kindergarten and am still friends with today.  My friendship with the *Musketeers is a relationship that I treasure with all of my heart.  Friends are supposed to be there to support you, to pick you up after you've fallen, to slap the crap out of you if you deserve it or to help you slap the crap out of someone else if they deserve it.  They become an extension of who you are.  I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I want to believe that everyone has some good in them. In short, I guess I set myself up every.single.time. The thing is, I don't take my relationships lightly. Platonic or otherwise.  When I give, I give 110% of me, without a second thought.  Is that wrong? Someone very close to me has hurt me really bad.  So much so that I'm kind of in "mourning" for the demise of what I thought was a solid relationship.  Yeah, the joke's on me.  I've wrote about it, I've prayed about it, I've even cried about it.  And you know what? The only conclusion I can come up with, is that he was a jerk.  He was a liar. He was a master manipulator.   A friendship is based on trust.  My relationship with *Gustabo came at a time in my life when I truly needed someone.  And so did he.  We hit it off, we started getting to know each other, trepidly at first, as trust was a major issue for both of us.  But through the course of a few months, we were soon inseparable and each other's most loudest cheerleader.  I trusted him blindly and stood by him in good times and in bad.  We both did.  I was blessed.  I thanked God for sending him to me.  Apparently, I was a just a means to an end for him.  And everything we shared, was a joke.  On me.  Do you have any idea how that feels?  I am so angry that I fell for it so easily! I fell for it over and over and over again!  But in spite of that, it was an eye-opener for me.  And how I treat the people that are allowed in my inner circle.  This experience will not break me.  It may knock me down for a while.  It may make me sad for a long time.  But it will not break me.  I am a good person. I did not deserve this.  But it is what it is.   Do I  miss him? I miss him every day.  And it aches in my heart, a little bit more each time.  It's been almost two weeks, but I'm just now dealing with my emotions.  I had not wanted to face them. Kinda hard to do with them staring you back in the face!  Ugh! Time to move on.

So it's Sunday night guys! What's going on?  How was the weekend for y'all?  It rained here finally! Real rain too, not that pesky 5 minute crap! It still needs to rain more, so if y'all have any pull with Mother Nature, tell her Houston is still really, really, really thirsty!

Alright, you know the drill.  Monday's on deck, make it a great week!

Cats Ain't Got Nothin On Me!

My guardian angel must love me to death!  What other explanation could there be for my life-saver protecting me from harm and loss (due to my carelessness).  Either that or I think I may have been a cat in a former life. Why? Because it seems I've got nine lives and more to spare! And just so you know, I loathe cats! Sorry feline lovers, but I just can't stand them. Don't hate me. Still confused? Read on:

A few years ago I worked downtown for a law firm. One rainy morning, I parked my car in a parking lot adjacent to the builiding.  I was running late for work (sheddup) and hastily made a mad dash in the rain to the building.  Come lunch time, I tear my office apart looking for my keys.  On the verge of tears, I walk to my car hoping that the keys are inside.  Uh, no, they're not inside, they're outside, on the door, in the key hole.  WTF??? Now, tell me that's not divine intervention.  I basically left my car up for grabs to anyone who spotted my car and the keys.

Another time I was having Sunday Funday at a local pub with the Three Musketeers (http://yvonne-writingmylifeaway.blogspot.com/2010/09/dolce-vita.html) when we decided to leave that establishment for another location.  Off we went, when I realized my keys were not in my purse. Frantically, I call the previous venue where we had been and the bartender told me that he indeed, had my keys. Relief!

Just last week, I went to the deli in our building, I had my wallet in one hand and my phone in the other.  When it was time to pick up my order, I placed both wallet and phone on the ledge. But only picked up my wallet  and whisked off back to the office.  Luckily, the owner of the deli, knows me and called the office to tell me I had forgotten something. 

And today, today I left for lunch. My mind was a million miles away going a thousand miles an hour.  I stepped into the elevator, caught a glimpse of my hair in the mirrors and decided to try and fix it. I placed my phone down, again on the small ledge, and walked out when the elevator doors opened.  My phone stayed behind.  An hour later, while driving back to work, I realize my "faithful companion" aka "the phone", was nowhere to be found.  Panic set in and I began praying.  "Please God, let me find my phone!"  When I got inside the building, I went straight to the security guard's desk and asked him if anyone had turned in a phone.  I told him of my pathetic story and he just smiled at me.  I know my story was kind of funny, in a sick kind of way, but smiling at me only made me feel worse.  And then, he looked down at his desk and held up a phone.  MY phone.  "This what you're looking for?"  OMG!  I was so relieved and happy, I went around the desk and gave him a big hug!  He blushed and said that someone had turned it in. Which totally restored my faith in the belief that there are still honest people out there.

So, NOW do you see why my guardian angel rocks? And why I think I may have been a cat in another lifetime?

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some "giving back" to do!

Once Upon a Time...

It's Friday peeps! Do something fun and laugh a lot!  Oh yeah, and check out this old post I wrote a while back. http://yvonne-writingmylifeaway.blogspot.com/2007/08/it-hit-me-tonight-like-ton-of-bricks.html
I participated in Red-Writing-Hood's prompt this week. The prompt was Heartbreak.  Now that's a subject I am a MASTER in!   Don't believe me? Read my blog!

Be good!

You

Shattered
Disappointment
Loss
Anger
Clarity
you bring all of this out of me
you force me to face the truth
what everyone saw
except me
until now

Retrospective -September 11, 2001

Ten years and I can still remember vividly, as if it happened yesterday. I can remember listening to the car radio as the announcers said something had just come across the AP wire, about an "object" hitting one of the towers in New York.  I remember my immediate thought was, "What idiot was flying his plane so low!?"  And then came the dreaded news, this was no joke, we were under attack.  I sped to work and rushed in to find some of my  coworkers gathered around a small television set, watching in disbelief.  It was so surreal.  I can still remember how scared, worried, and very frightened I became. The drive home from work was eerily quiet and still.  It was as if time had stopped for us and we were all scrambling to get to our destination to see our families and loved ones, to try and make sense of what had happened.  Someone had taken over our country that day and dropped us to our knees. I never felt so violated and helpless as I did that day.  I never felt more proud to be an American, living in this great country, faults and all, as I did in the days after the tragedy.  People from all over the country, all walks of life came together, strangers, families, friends, all working together to help one another, to help, period.  Everyone was eager to do something, anything, to contribute in some way.  Ten years later, I still smell grieving and fear, but also determination, reaffirmation, that the United States is strong, and free and resilient.

Always remember!

A date, is a date, is a date...

Where do I begin? So much to say, so little time… Alright, so last night I was over at my friend Simona’s house. She’d invited me to go over for some girl talk, dinner and of course, wine. Duh! Vino is always invited! There we were, Simona, her roommate Francine, and me. Dinner was delish! So while chit-chatting about our week, and reveling in the fact that it was the beginning of the weekend, we started discussing, what else? Men.  Simona gleefully shared with us that she had a date tomorrow night with a guy she met at Chic Fil A. Chic-Fil-freakin A!!! How does that even happen??? Anyway, Francine goes on to tell us how it went down and that she’s already had lunch with him and tomorrow will be their first official date. The story goes like this, she was eating, he spotted her but was on his way out. Actually got in his car and left, only to return minutes later, with the hope she was still there so he could muster up the courage to talk to her. Which she was, and he did, and the rest as they say, is history. Cute story huh? Well, it was, until Simona decided to divulge a little sumptin sumptin that Francine had conveniently forgotten to share with me.

“He wants to come over and wash her hair.” Simona spilled.

“Whaaat?” I replied laughing.

“Yeah, he told her he wanted to come over and wash her hair.”

I looked at Francine and she was taking a sip of her wine and avoiding eye contact with me. But she had a big silly grin on her face.

“Y’all are bullshitting with me right?”

“No it’s true. He wants to come run his hands through my hair and shampoo and condition it.”

At this point we were all dying with laughter. The kind of laughter that hurts our stomachs but feels too good to stop.

“Let me get this straight, some guy you just met, have been talking to for what? A week? Just says he wants to come shampoo your hair?”

Francine, who is African-American, replied, “Yes. It’s a very sensual and intimate gesture. And common in our culture.” She sounded so proud too.

I don't know if it's a culture thing or not.  I just know that it's weird.  To me.  Now, I’ve had men want to do things for me, things like buy me a car, a house, take me on trips, you know, stuff like that. Never. Ever. Have I had any man ever offer me to wash my hair!

“Um, yeah I guess, but personally, it would freak me the hell out!” I replied.

But then, because that wasn’t funny enough, Simona blurts out, “Wait, here’s the best part…”

Opening a new bottle of wine, I look at her, waiting for the closer.

She leans in over the table, and almost in a whisper says, “He is a hair products salesman!”

I swear you could hear the laughter erupting in the house from miles away.  We laughed for a long, long, time. 

There was nothing left to do after that lovely story, but to toast to it!  Cheers!

Long ago...

This week I participated int RemembeRED's writing prompt.  We are to write about a memory growing up.  See: http://writeonedge.com/2011/09/remembered-childhood/?

This was my contribution:

I miss my childhood.  I was  the oldest of four, I remember always playing the “grown-up.”  Sometimes for fun and sometimes not for fun.  Our parents worked a lot, A LOT.  Sometimes around the clock, so we, the  children, were often times left with relatives and babysitters.  When we were older and able to stay home alone, they left us to fend for ourselves.  Let me just say that we should all be owners of Burger King by now, as often as we were customers there!. What can I say? Mine was not the "stay at home" kind of mom.  She would ocassionally cook for us and leave it in the oven for us to reheat when we got home, but due to time constraints with her two jobs, she wasn't always able to do this.  So BK is was! Besides, it was close, convenient and cheap.  I used to get angry at my parents for working so much.  For giving me the responsibility of watching over my brothers and sister, when I was not much older than they were.  I was bathing them, and making sure homework was done and that they ate dinner.  As we got older, the responsibilities changed, and instead of bathing them, I had to make sure they weren’t out in the streets after dark or at a neighbor’s house.  My mom didn’t allow us to go over anyone’s house without her permission or her knowing who they were personally.  We were also not allowed to have anyone over  when neither of my parents were home.  This put a damper on my siblings’ engaging personalities!  They were/still are social butterflies!  I know the parentals  meant well and it was because of their sacrifices that we never went without, and were able to attend private  schools from kindergarten until high school.  They wanted nothing but the best education for us.  And they saw to it that we got it.  But all the while, even now, I feel this tinge of resentment and loss.  I didn’t have a “normal” childhood.  I grew up much too fast.  And I carried a lot on my shoulders since I was twelve years old.  Still, my parents are amazing people and I love them to death. 

But I miss my childhood.