Someday My Prince Will Come

When I was a little girl, my mom gave me a Walt Disney book.  It contained numerous fairy tales and had vibrant, colorful pop-up pictures.  My dad would read that book to my sister and I at bedtime while my mom brushed our hair or just laid in bed with us.  My sister's favorite story was Cinderella.  Mine was Snow White. Both had a common denominator:  Prince Charming.  I would be lying if I said that I did not get caught up in all the hoopla of today's Royal Wedding that took place across the pond.  The fact that I've been up since 3:30 a.m. and it's now a little before 11:00 p.m. should tell you how much of a "fairy tale" lover I am.  And I am.  I remember watching Princess Diana marry Prince Charles.  I was about 14 or 15 years old.  I remember waking up at the wee hours of the morning and jumping into bed with my mom to watch the wedding.  Just like today.  We both wore our pajama finest!  We were after all, watching regalia. 

While watching the ceremony, my mom whispered to me in Spanish, "Ya llegara tu principe."  Meaning, "Your prince will come."  I just rolled my eyes in indifference.  But that stuck with me all day.  I kept thinking about the little girl that used to play dolls and always, always played "The Wedding" with Barbie and Ken.  Even back then, I was hopeful.  I just knew that I too, would have a "prince".  But as the years go on and I am still here, alone, I can't help but wonder what happened to that little girl's dream?  Don't misunderstand, I'm not jaded and certainly not cold.  But I do think that I'm "indifferent" when it comes to hoping for "someone" to come into my life.  I would like to think that I still believe in fairy tales, but the reality of it is, not so much.  I do believe in love, and am a hopeful romantic, still.  And I believe that my heart would compliment someone else's heart very well.  But I don't dwell on it.  As I get older, I realize that life is not for dreaming it away.   Life is for living and hoping.  We must never lose hope.  And that's not to say I won't give someone (anyone at this point --kidding!  I have to find the humor in this you know!) a chance.  For now, that's all I can do.  Live my life the best way I know how, and making myself happy. But today, today was all about fairy tales and princesses and princes and love and and outrageous hats!  Good grief! Some of them were waay, waaay out there!

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take my tiara off and go to sleep.

Mr. Telephone Man

While talking with some friends over dinner last weekend, the topic of discussion soon turned to my dating life. Or rather, lack of dating life.  Why my life and who I go out with or not go out with is so important to them is baffling to me! Surely there are other much more interesting and palatable topics to discuss! But no.  Apparently, trying to get to the root of my dating angst is all the rage!  So anyway, they asked me if I had ever picked up a random stranger. 

"Uh like a one night stand? Duh!"  Not that I did that all the time mind you. But hey, I never claimed to be a saint or a goody two shoes.  Although I was called a prude once.  But that's a different story for a different time.  Let's move on. 

"No not like a one night stand.  Did you ever just blow someone's mind at first meeting and then went and  got down and dirty somewhere?" 

Ok, what part of one night stand did they not understand???  They had just described it! 

"I think what *Gustabo is trying to say is have you ever met a guy and they melted at the sight of you or sound of you or because of your laugh or whatever!?" 

Ugh! So much thinking called for more wine.  While my friend *Lola poured the wine, I searched deep, deep, DEEP into my memory bank to see if I could recall anything even remotely interesting like that.  And suddenly, the seas parted and there it was! The memory.  *David V.  Immediately I'm transported back to the year 2000.  I'd just bought a condo and was still very much in the process of getting settled in.  One morning, I'd told my mom to stay and "phone-sit" until the phone guy showed up to install everything.  Well, I came home from work that evening and sure enough, the phone was working, the computer was working and all was well in my world.  Or so I thought.  Late that evening, I grabbed the phone and was about to dial out when I heard "voices" on the other end.  Lots of "voices".  Huh, that's weird.  I hung up and then picked up again, and each time there were voices and sometimes hissing sounds.  It scared the hell out of me! I remember grabbing my cell and calling the phone guy that had installed the thing.  He had given my mom his business card and told her to call anytime if there was an emergency. Uh, weird noises seemed like the perfect emergency to me, don't you think? 

He picked up on the second ring.  "This is David." 

"Hi, you're going to think this is a joke or I'm crazy but..." and I went on to describe what was going on.  He laughed. That's right. Laughed in my ear.  Not a chuckle. Not a slight giggle.  A full-fledged, belly jumping laugh. 

"You think this is funny?"  I was now not only freaked out but indignant that he laughed at me. 

"Yeah I do. Look, it's not that late, I can come by and check it out, if you want."  This was not a time to be angry, I would give him a piece of my mind after he fixed whatever it is he needed to fix. 

"Yes, come over now."  And so he did. It turns out that the wires were crossed, that much I had already figured out, but what creeped me out was the hissing noises.  He said that was probably my imagination.  Really, he said that to me.  He had audacity that's for sure!  "Look, there aren't any gremlins in there.  There's no more hissing of any kind. But if you hear it again, feel free to call me. Any time.  Even if you don't hear it again.  Feel free to call me."

Wait. What? Was he flirting with me???  He smiled and winked at me as he left.  Yep.  Flirting, definitely flirting.  I went on with my life after that.  About two days later, I get a phone call on my home phone.  It was him. David. He wanted to know if I'd heard any more strange noises coming from my phone.  Then he said "Not really.  I was calling you because you've got the sexiest voice I've ever heard! And a smile to match it.  I just wanted to tell you that."

"What'd you say? What'd you tell him?" my friends were now hanging on my every word.  I took my time, poured myself another glass of wine and savored it as I drank it.  "I thanked him, AFTER I picked myself up off the floor."  You see bloggers, I'd fallen from the shock!

 *David V. and I proceeded to go out on approximately two dates after that night.   And then he confessed that he was engaged.  End of story.  I never saw him again.

My friends were silent.  Tough thing to do for them.  "It's okay guys.  That was years ago.  I'm fine."  They felt bad for me so they ordered another bottle of wine and never asked me another question the rest of the night.

That little story got me thinking about other instances that my voice has played a part in piquing the male species' interest.  None have resulted in me dating them.  *David V. was the only one.  But clients on the phone and strangers even, have complimented me on my voice.  They say it's sexy.  I say I sound like Mickey Mouse on Ritalin. 

Bleh!  Whatever.  So bloggers, be good to the person on the other line.  You never know when I might be calling!  [Insert cheesy smile here]

Just Like That...

You take hold of my entire being
I fall victim to your prey
What you have to offer is enticing
I have no self-control

I want to break free
I try and try
until I am spent

Fighting you no longer seems possible
So I give in.

And soon the darkness comes
The familiar
the tears
the fear
the anxiety

Sadness envelopes me
and you are pleased

Depression, my monster, has returned.

**I'm not having another "episode".  I'm just feeling a little "blah" and this is one way I deal with my "blah-ness"**

The Waiting Game

 A routine visit to the doctor, recently brought my mom an onslaught of  follow-up visits, tests, different medications, treatments and a biopsy.  The doctor found a mass on one of her breasts.  Nothing like thinking you may or may not have cancer to put a halt to your normal life.  Not to mention bring anxiety, worry and even despair to it.  Not just by my mom, but my brothers and sister and I.  The following days after the "find" everything was done in "ASAP" mode. Meaning, the doctors ordered everything "at once" and "immediately"  All but the last part.  The biopsy.  Oh the procedure itself was quick and over in a mere minutes.  It's the waiting that took forever.  At least, to my mom, and me, and the rest of my family, it felt like forever.  In reality it was about 12 days.  Forever.  Yesterday we heard the most beautiful words in the English language (ok, maybe a close second to "I love you" and "You are NOT the father!") come from my mom's doctor's mouth:  "The test was benign.  There is no cancer."  To say that we were relieved would be an understatement.  We were over-the-moon happy!  I've never been so scared before. Not even when I had a gun pointed at me during a robbery.  This was during high school, when I worked at a movie theater and it happened to get held up.  Not even then, this by far, was scarier.  My mom put on a brave front throughout the ordeal.  She masked her angst and her worries.  The "not knowing" kind of held all of us captive.  And kept us that way until yesterday morning.  After thanking God about a million times, I sighed a breath of relief. And our world was bright and sunny again. 

I love my mother more than life itself.  I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to her.  There are times when I can't stand her, when she gets on my nerves, when I'm angry with her, but make no mistake, this woman is amazing and deserving of all beautiful and wonderful things.  And no matter if we argue one day and make up the next, our love is unconditional, honest and transcends any other bond there is in life.  A mother's love is unique and stands alone.  I was talking to my sister last night, we were discussing the days events and how happy we were about the results.  She told me she had been really scared.  And had cried herself to sleep almost every night since the "find".  She said that "mom is the tape that holds our crazy family together."  And she's right.  She's our "tape" our "glue",  our "miracle maker".  We are so lucky to have this woman in our lives.  If there is one thing I got from this ordeal it's that  "Life is too short to waste."  Indeed it is. 

What will you do about it?

Back At It

Hello kids! How is everyone? I hope your Easter (if you celebrate it) was a good one!  I've been kind of quiet here in Blogland, the past few days.  The main reason is the remodeling that's taking place at home.  It's driving me insane!  I had to seek "shelter" at my one of my brother's homes for the past four days.  Thankfully, I get to go home tonight and sleep in my own bed, finally!  So that, coupled with the holiday and family issues and "Yvonne" issues going on in my life, leaves little time to blog or to visit.  I did manage to work on my novel though.  That was HUGE progress for me!  So I was productive in that respect.  I have a lot of reading and commenting to catch up on here in the land of Blog.  Give me time, I 'll get to you soon!

That's it for now guys.  I've got to get back to work.  I just wanted to touch base with everyone.

As always, make it a FABULOUS Monday!  I know I will!

Shopping for Men

No, no, you all must be thinking, "Oh! Yvonne found a store that sells men!" or, "That Yvonne! She's prowling perusing yet another dating site!"  Sorry to disappoint kids, but that's not what I meant in the title.  Nothing as exciting as that!  The real story is that my boss's birthday is tomorrow.  And I have to get him a gift.  Well, I don't really have to, but I want to.  I'm nice like that.  At any rate, during my lunch break, I headed to the nearest department store and frantically searched for the "perfect" gift.  What do you give a jerk?  He's not always one, mind you.  Just 97.5 percent of the time.  Kidding.  Maybe.  What to buy? What to buy? I had not a clue!  I just knew that I would know, as soon as I saw it!  I walked up and down the aisles in the men's department.  Soon enough, I found myself in the colognes section.  Mmmmm! I love, love, love men to smell good! It's one of my weaknesses.  I would be such an awesome girlfriend I tell you! Not only would my guy always smell great, but he'd look great too!  I actually enjoy shopping for men.  Sadly, I've not had one to shop for in a long time.  Well except for *Gustabo.  But he's my bestie, he doesn't really count.  Although, for Christmas last year I got him a new scent that he'd never worn before and it was way sexy! He loved it!  Actually, on my way home from the gym, I called to tell him about my shopping adventure.  "Too bad we're not dating, they had the most amazing clothes at the store!"  I told him excitedly.  He laughed out loud and then said, "Yeah, I know, same here with the girlfriend thing. I'd have you so spoiled!" Sigh, alas, we're not a couple.  "We could always pretend!" I told him. "Nah, that wouldn't work.  We'd buy each other stuff but not be able to enjoy all the benefits that a boyfriend and girlfriend enjoy!"  Dammit. He burst my bubble.  "Way to kill my dream *Gustabo!"  The rest of our conversation was complaining about our dating woes.  So anyway, I ended up buying a tie for my boss.  Yeah, yeah, I know, it's so "boring" and "predictable" But I honestly didn't know what to get him. You have to remember, this is the boss that makes cry sometimes and has me so stressed out I need alcohol on a regular basis! See, I don't really know him, know him.  He's very private.  And he's also only twenty-eight years old. (for a few more hours anyway)  Which made it more difficult to decide what to get him.  I figured that since he goes to court on a regular basis, I thought I'd get him a tie that screamed, "Success!".  And I did.  I'm glad because the ties he wears at times are b-uh-oring! Shh! Let's keep that to ourselves, shall we?

That was my Wednesday, how was yours?

Worst.Date.Ever. (Recycled)

 Last night my good friend *Gustabo asked me if I had any "bad dates" stories? Me? Muahahahaha! How much time you got? I asked him.  So in keeping with the "Bad Dates" theme and because I'm too tired to think of anything even remotely interesting to write, I'm going "recycle" a post I wrote back in October of 2010.  For those that have read it already, please indulge me again, and for those that have not read it yet, I hope you enjoy it! Or laugh at it.
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Earlier this evening I met up with a few friends for happy hour. Over wine and pizza (we improvised ok? nothing but the best for us!) the discussion of choice was "Worst/Best____ Ever!" So the group consisted of four women and six men. Clearly the ladies were outnumbered!  One of the guys started the convo off by telling us how he had just been on the BEST date of his life and how he thinks she may be "the one" blah,blah,blah! So we all start trading our BEST date stories and then tried to one up each other. Well, they thinking they knew ALL of my secrets wouldn't let me get a word in edge wise! So I had to think fast and blurted out, "I was called a "cock block bitch" once!" Silence. Even our waitress stopped pouring the beer and just stared at  us me.  "Well I was!" They were all staring at me in disbelief! "Ok fun-size, spill it!" First, let me share with you, one of my many, many, MANY nicknames is Fun-size. Stop laughing!  I'm only 4'11 and ever since I can remember, I have been given various nicknames because of this! Whatever. So I proceed to tell them about my worst date ever. It happened years ago mind you. During my Myspace phase. Lame. I know but it was all the rage back then!!! And nothing has topped it -yet. Not even the "Bad Kisser" story! Don't believe me? Read for yourself...

We met by way of MySpace.com Separated by miles but bound by the internet. The emails began, the camaraderie, the bantering... All seemed well. All seemed okay. The "suitor" and I had a lot in common. We even grew up in the same neighborhood etc. He was a public school kid, I was a private school kid. Ironically, (or not) our paths never crossed while growing up. So the seeds of our "friendship" were planted and my insides became giddy at the possibility of something "new" transpiring. After countless emails and numerous, lengthy, phone calls, the "suitor" asked me out. We went out on a Friday. Now, I we debated going out at all that weekend.  It happend to be Good Friday and while I'm not a hard-core, rosary carrying Catholic, I still feel odd going out and partying on Good Friday.  Now Holy Saturday, well that's a whole different story!  It's ON then!   Ok where was I?  Yeah so we decided to go ahead and keep it "calm" and just meet for dinner and drinks.  And if things were going well, we'd go all out and take in a movie.  I know, I know, I know how to party!  When we finally met that Good Friday night, it was very nice. The entire evening was great! He winded and dined me.  Literally.  Heh.  After dinner we decided to go listen to a jazz guitarist friend of mine.  He was playing at a local establishment that we both frequented.  Now at this point, I'm thinking, "ok, he hasn't even tried to hold my hand."  Hmmm, he's going with the "gentleman" approach.  Nice. There was a lot of talking and laughing and getting to know each other.  Not in a Match.com kind of way but in a relaxed and totally spontaneous element.  All indications led me to believe that this guy had more than potential!  But wait. It got better.  At then end of our date, my "suitor", ever the gentleman, decides he's going to walk me to my door (Yes this is how comfortable I felt about him, I let him pick me up at home). It was then that he reached for my hand.  We walked slowly and comfortably to my door. Up to this point, this is the most we had done in terms of "intimate" contact! I thanked him for a nice time and kissed his cheek. He reaches for me and kisses me on the mouth. Totally caught me off guard!  But it was nice.  In my head, I tell myself that that is enough. He's coy. He's smooth. He goes for another one and I again, kiss him back. Finally, after some serious making out, we break away and I hug him and tell him to drive safe. He proceeds to ask me and I quote: "Can't you find somewhere better to put your hands?" (at the time, my hands were around his neck.) I looked at him incredulously, and he proceeded to take my hand and put it over his crotch! That's right ladies and gentleman! There was "lift" off!!! I pried my hand away quickly but not quickly enough not to feel his "arousal". At that moment I wanted to throw up. Not because I'm a prude, I'm not. But this idiot ruined an otherwise perfect evening and ruined any chance of building any type of relationship -platonic or otherwise with me. The night ended when he huffed away mad. But not before he telling me, "I thought you were an adult, you're just a cock block bitch." I'm totally serious! He actually said that to me! It was so silly I almost broke out in laughter but I was too angry at him! What happened to "dating"? You know, the guy picks up the girl at home, they go out, have a good time, walks her to the door and "maybe" they kiss or hug and then the date ends. This of course leading the way for the possibility of more dates more flirting, just more in the future!  What happened to that? Am I so "backwards" that this does not happen anymore? I know I'm not because I have been on plenty of dates and none have ever, ever ended the way this one did!! Now, maybe you're thinking that I led him on or teased him. Did I lead him on? No. Did I flirt with him? Of course I did. I was attracted to him and I genuinely was starting to like him. Certainly, I would have wanted to get to know him better and see if it would lead to anything. At what point did our date turn into "You have to blow me?" Give me a break! I felt like I was back in high school fighting off a 9th grader with a hard on! Jeez! What a disappointment! Or in hindsight, a blessing in disguise? This is why dating is very "exclusive" for me and why I am so picky! Don't get me wrong, I am not giving up on dating because I refuse to believe all men are like this moron but damn! Talk about bursting a bubble... I should have known this was too good to be true...or rather, he was to good to be true...

Alas, that was a few days ago and it is past. My eyes are focused on the future and what wonderful, charming, sexy, intelligent men I have yet to meet...
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"And THAT'S what happened." I said to my dorky friends.

"Bring her a shot!"

Lovely! My friends' answer to all of our plights, alcohol! Works for me, Salud!

"Oh Mom!"

You know those moments.  I know you do.  Those, "Oh mom!" moments when you whine or yell out that expression.  Usually it's because "Mother dear" has done something we don't approve of.  I swear, sometimes I feel like I'm living an episode of the Golden Girls.  Hmm, I wonder which character I would most likely be?  Check out the similarities.  I am a grown woman, that lives at home, and takes care of her sometimes, sick mom.  I call her my "roommate".  She's not the normal, "meddler" type of mother, nor is she the possessive type either.  And she's certainly not the "Betty Crocker I'm going to bake my life away" mom AT.ALL.  She's a lot like the character Sophia on the Golden Girls, minus the meddling and the really "old" part.  My mom's still got it going on!  And she's funny and a "momma bear" that protects her young at any cost.  But that would mean that I am like the character Dorothy and I'm not.  Well first of all I'm too short!  And second of all, if my hair EVER had that much grey or blue in it, I would wear a wig! Serious!      I think I'm a cross between Blanche and Rose.  I have a bit of a naughty side that only a select few see, and I also have a clumsy, naive and funny side to me.  So if I could, I'd morph those characters together and form "me".  Anyway, on with the story.  What story you ask? Come on! You know I always have a story for you!  So back to the beginning.  I'm currently living an episode of Golden Girls Does Houston (or is that "Do" Houston?)  My "roommate" decided that it was time to remodel the kitchen.  Exciting yes? Uh, no.  See, the thing is, my bedroom is directly next to the kitchen.  A wall separates me from the fridge.  My roomie was talking about tearing down walls and tons of dust everywhere and painting.  All kinds of nonesense spewed from that tiny woman's mouth! All I could think was, "Why????"  And so, a part of my Sunday was spent moving furniture around and away from the "deluge" of debris and dirt and rubble that was to come today. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Operation New Kitchen began bright and early this Monday morning! Joy! Joy! Joy!  We argued about where the furniture should go, and then I had to physically remove her from my bedroom because she kept insisting she  move stuff around herself.  She's one tough cookie, my mami! And stubborn as a mule too!  Finally, boxes were put away, furniture was covered and secured and my bedroom aka The Shangri la" looked more like a storage facility than the room where the "magic" happens.  Muahaha! Yeah right.  I'm wondering, what would Blanche do in a case like this?

Stay turned tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that!  This "project" of my mom's is supposed to take up to three weeks to complete.  Too bad the beach here doesn't look like Florida's beach.

Horizons

11:42 p.m. (CST)  That's what the time reads at the bottom, right-hand corner of my computer screen.  My mind is tired tonight.  I feel drained.  Trying to cram too much into one weekend has proven to be exhausting!  My weekend was nice.  I was busy the entire time, but it was still a nice one.  And we had the most AMAZING weather!  So grateful for that!  I'm looking forward to this week.  If for no other reason than, I'm off on Friday! Can you say, "three day weekend"?  That's right kids! This is Holy Week.  Friday is Good Friday and Sunday is Easter.  A new season of sorts.  A rebirth.  A good time for change and renewal.  Better times ahead.  -We can only hope.

And now I seem to be rambling. 

You know the drill.  Sunday's fading away. Monday's on tap.  Make it a great week! 

The "At Least" List

I was talking to my friend Michelle (you know, aka the Musketeer, aka, Coca-cola -CC for short) this evening on my way home.  We were playing catch-up, as it had been a few days since we'd last spoken.  Man! What a couple of Debbie Downers we were! I'd originally called her to chat and to see if she could get me out of this "funk" that I seem to have fallen into.  But upon hearing her voice, I realized she was pretty much in the same boat!  We laughed and decided that we'd have to pull our negativity together and beat it down!  For me, my "funk" or lack of motivation lately, has a lot to do with worries and stresses at home.  Worries and stresses that I really don't want to discuss.  So I carry all that inside and sometimes, I need to vent and of course, being the girl that I am, along with venting come tears.  Lots of tears.  Bleh!  I'm such a whimp sometimes.  So after pouring my heart out to Michelle, she did the same to me.  For those  reading my blog for the first time,  let me give you some background on the Musketeers.  I have two girlfriends, Michelle, who I am talking about right now, and Maricela.  I absolutely love and respect them.  We're like sisters, interchanging the order of birth according to whatever mishap or success we have wrought into our lives.  Sometimes, (ok a lot of times) I'm the little sister, sometimes, I'm the big sister and sometimes I'm just their conscience!  And the same goes for them.  Got it? Good. Let's move on.  So Michelle is this beautiful, very attractive girl.  She's that way on the inside and out.  I don't call her Coca-cola for nothing! -Side note, I gave her that nickname because she's shaped like a coca-cola bottle.    Anyway, tonight I was surprised to learn that she is struggling with something that I (or anyone else that knows her I'm sure) would have ever guessed.  I won't divulge what that is because it's not for me to do so.  But it's something that makes her terribly unhappy.  After she told me, I tried as best I could, to make her feel better.  We ended up cracking up about our "dilemmas" and promised to STOP THE INSANITY!  We then started talking about all of those people that are so much less fortunate than we are.  We recalled a story that came out of the local news sometime last year ( I'm not sure about the time frame) about a woman who contracted a staph infection right after giving birth.  It was so bad that the doctors had to amputate her limbs.  So her life now revolves around a newborn and a wheelchair designed especially for her.  She 'll never carry the baby in her arms, because she has none, she'll never chase the baby because she has no legs.  But the most amazing part of that story is that that woman is as happy as can be!  Shame on us right? 

"At least you have all of your limbs Mich."  I said.  "Yeah I know, I know..." she replied.  And then we randomly began throwing out "At leasts"  Here are a few I wanted to share:

At least we can see
At least we have a job
At least we have a family.  They drive us crazy but they're our family, nonetheless.
At least we have our health.
At least we have a car.
At least we can love, there are many people in this world that can't.

Somehow, after our conversation and going over our "lists", feeling sorry for ourselves just seemed wrong.  But you see, no matter how much I understand and am able to appreciate all that I have, I still on occasion feel bad.  It's more than "the blues".  I battle with depression on a daily basis.  I have for many years now.  It comes in cycles.  Up and down like a roller coaster.  Right now, I happen to be on a downward slope, but I refuse to get stuck there.  The "episodes" don't last long, most of the times. 
Having friends like Michelle and Maricela and *Gustabo, is essential for my "get better" regimen.   And having people that read my blog and hopefully enjoy it or relate to it somehow, also makes me feel good. I realize this post may be a little "all over the place" but my mind does not operate in "structure" at all.

How about you? Do you make "At least" lists in your lives?

Sex-piration date

Last night, while catching up on reading other blogs, I came across a “commenter” that mentioned in passing something about not having a “Sex-piration date” and that struck me as hilarious. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I started thinking (yes, be afraid!) how weird it would be if we were all given a “Sex-piration date” at birth. Imagine, maybe the doctor or the stork, before handing us over to our parents, stamping a big “sex-piration date” on a discreet part of our body, maybe the butt? Male and female alike would have dates that they would have to stop having sex. I have friends (who shall remain nameless) that cannot live without sex. They have to have it all the time. And I’m not bad-mouthing that notion at all! More power to us them! But what would our lives be like if we had a cut-off date that no longer allowed us to get busy, get it on, do the horizontal mambo, (ok just typing "horizontal mambo"  made me a little sick! who says that anymore!?) whenever we wanted to? Worlds would collide! That’s what would happen! Disasters of epic proportions would ensue! I suppose Mother Nature got the last laugh after all, otherwise, why would women have menopause to look forward to in the future? That’s kind of a sex-piration date if ever I saw one! We’re doomed.

NASA -What is Your Problem?

As a native Houstonian I am both stunned and saddened at the news that the Johnson Space Center will not receive any of the shuttles that traveled to space.  This despite the fact that the space shuttle program's history is inextricably linked to the Johnson Space Center. Throughout its 30-year history, the program has been managed in Houston, each mission has been controlled by it's talented professionals at Mission Control, and astronauts who have flown on shuttles have been trained and lived in the community.  This city has served as the heart of the space shuttle program since its inception.  What is even more mind boggling is learning which cities would receive a piece of space history.  Florida, N.Y. and L.A., those were the chosen ones.   (Really? Los Angeles? Excuse me if I throw up a little in my mouth!)  I hate that I sound like a sore loser but right now, that's what it feels like here.  I guess I just don't understand the reasoning behind all of this spurn.  I'm not altogether sure there is an acceptable reason.  A few of my colleagues discussed this over lunch today and the consensus was that politics played a major role in the deciding factor.  You know, I guess I can agree with that, but it doesn't lessen the disappointment or the feeling of a balloon being popped just as you reach out to grab it, that the majority of people are experiencing tonight, in Houston.  And really, who cares if it was politics or whatever other "reason" NASA had for it's choices!?  To me, it was a slap on the face to all of the JSC employees, their families, as well as the astronauts that lost their lives on the Challenger and Columbia. 

It's bad enough that the space program will probably or more than likely be extinct in about five years or so, but what happened today, well, that just adds insult to injury.

And with that said, I'm getting off my soapbox for tonight.

 

Craving Kisses

I'm craving kisses, just as the title states.
Not the pecks on the cheek kind, though, those are nice too.
What I'm craving are those hot, ardent, "curl your toes", "leave you breathless", kind of kisses.
Yep.
That's what's on my mind this Monday night.
How about you?

Weekend Wrap-up

Hello kids! What's up? How's life treating you?  So, it's Sunday, for a few more hours, anyway.  When last we met, I was in a state of "excitedness" because it was the eve of Opening Day and I couldn't wait for the day's pre-game festivities to begin.  The day was a long one, but well worth every hour! I didn't even mind the fact that I woke up at the crack of dawn on my day off (Friday) because I'd stupidly scheduled my physical at an ungodly early hour.  Yeah I wasn't thinking when I made the appointment, obviously.  But no harm was done.  When we got to the stadium you could feel the energy and the excitement about the game and the new season.  The Musketeers and I made our way to our usual spot and toasted to our hearts content.  I would post pictures but the girls would kill me, and I'm kind of fond of living, so, no pictures.  The game was actually pretty good and a close one.  But alas, we lost.  All around me I could hear the murmurings of, "...season of rebuilding" and "It's going to be a few years before the Astros can even think of contention."  Meh! Maybe, maybe not.  I mean, did the Bad News Bears ever give up? No! Well, that's not entirely true but for the sake of this post, I'm going with "No".  Regardless, great times were had by all.

Saturday night I took in a rendition of Hairspray at the Miller Outdoor Theater.  This is a stage set in the middle of a park, on the bottom of a hill. It's free and people are allowed to take in food and drinks and blankets and dogs and whatever else makes you happy under the stars.  It's really cool to go watch plays or musicals or concerts. They have different events throughout the year.  The weather was really nice too. Although it was overcast, as the night wore on, there was a really nice breeze  and the skies cleared up.  The show itself was fantastic! I am not as familiar with this show as I am with West Side Story.  But I did know some of the songs by heart and of course I sang along.  It was a great evening filled with wine, laughter, girl talk and a pretty awesome show.  BUT, come on, you knew it was coming right?  As always, there has to be a glitch or something like that to mar the evening.  And there was.  So, the show wasn't scheduled to begin until 8:00 p.m. or as soon as it got dark (it actually says that on their website).  Knowing that it was a pretty popular production, my friends and I decided to get there extra early to find parking and find a good spot on the hill.  Which we did.  Well, about ten minutes before the show began, the Hillbillies (that's the nice name I gave them) showed up en masse! Let's see, there was Ma and Pa and Granny and about four high-school aged kids and a two big coolers and blankets and lawn chairs.  They settled in right behind us.  The show started and the crowd grew silent.  Except for the Hillbillies.  They continued their conversations, and one of the kids got on her cell phone and proceeded to have a discussion with a classmate about prom. How did I know this? How could I not know? She was talking as loud as the cast members were.  And she had THE MOST ANNOYING voice EVER!!!!! It was a cross between The Nanny character and Minnie Mouse.  After getting a few not so nice glares in their direction, by myself and others around them, they quieted down but only for a few minutes.  Then granny decides to confront one of the "glarers" (not me) and tells them that this is a park and they can speak as loud as they want.  "We're in Amuurca" (that's what it sounded like when she said America).  The "glarer" politely told her to "shut the fuck up" because he and his family were trying to enjoy the show.  Pretty soon others sitting in the same vicinity started complaining vocally as well.  So much so that the play was interrupted! Yes, it sure was!  Security was called, the Hillbillies were asked to keep their voices to a minimal so as not to disturb the crowd or the cast.  And just to make sure that this would happen, a nice police man sat beside them the rest of the evening.  Wow.  Now I've seen it all! hahaha  Oddly enough, they left during the first intermission.  Thank God for small favors! I mean really!  Why even bother going to a show that you have no intention of watching?  And not only that but disturbing others who want to watch it??? Ugh!    Yeah we live in Amurrca but come on, have a little consideration for others don't you think?   The next show that I 'm probably going to go see there is a Led Zeppelin show with a light show.  Can't wait to see who shows up to that one! Maybe the Clampetts? Kidding.

Today was all about doing a whole lotta nothin! I attempted to write for a while then I attempted to clean the house, then I got tired and took a nap. Followed by a dose of Lifetime and then I decided to get off my bootay and go to church. Which I did. I 'm glad I went.  I'd missed the last couple of Sundays, for no good reason at all.  I feel better now.  Life is good, people!

On that note, I'm off to see a pillow about some sleep!

Twas the Night Before Opening Day...

Today was a great day!  Why? Sit down, relax, let me tell you!  I woke up feeling great and "antsy" with anticipation.  I couldn't wait to get to work, I couldn't wait for the day to be over!  Why so much giddiness on a Thursday you ask?  Because today was my Friday.  I'm off tomorrow.  And not only that, tomorrow is Opening Day at Minute Maid Park, where the Astros (who actually won a game today!) will kick off the first home stand of the season.  And I'm stoked! Ever since I was a little girl, I remember my dad, who is a hard-core baseball fan, used to take me and my sister and my two brothers, with him to the Astrodome.  We'd go year after year.  He instilled the love of the game in my brothers and it trickled down to my sister and I. Those were fun times. As we got older and things started changing, we didn't go as often as we used to, but we always managed to make it to at least one game -all of us together.  We don't do that anymore. Things are different now.  But ever the baseball lover and fan of the Astros that I am, I started a new tradition.  About six years ago, the Musketeers and I went to our first Opening Day game and we've been going ever since.  See, the thing is, we don't just go to the game.  Oh no, we make it an all day event.  (hence the reason why I took the day off)  Tomorrow will be no different.  We'll wear our Astros gear and have a nice, leisurely lunch, then head over to the ballpark and partake in the days festivities.  It's like a small street festival. My friend *Gustabo and his band will be playing throughout the day as well! Then finally, we'll go in to the stadium and be ready to cheer and high-five each other and perfect strangers, at all the marvelous plays that the Astros will be making! (We can only hope!)  So you see, that is why I'm as excited as a school-kid on the eve of Spring break or Summer vacation. 

In the infamous words of the late, great, Jim Caray -"Hello again, everybody. It's a bee-yooo-tiful day for baseball."

Wilma Flinstone Meets Fat Albert and Baby Huey

Sunday afternoon, while at my friend's birthday party, I played darts for only the second time in my life! It was great! I won three times in a row and some of my friends were sore losers.  Especially because it was me who beat them.   Me, who does not do well in games, unless they are word games of course!  Haters!  It helped that the friends I played against were not sober.  Alcohol and coordination does not a good dart game player make!  A small crowd of both men and women, had gathered around me and my friends when I started to play the last game.  They were all cheering me on.  I was playing against this huge guy that reminded me of Fat Albert and Baby Huey all rolled into one.  I did not know him.  He just randomly walked up to me, we started chatting and the next thing I know, it's GAME TIME! He asked me what my name was and I told him it was, "Lola".  Yeah I was lying.  What can I say? At that moment, I felt like a "Lola".  Now grant it, it was rather loud and the music was blaring, so it's quite possible that he truly did not hear me.  "Your name is Wilma? Like the Flinstones?"  I stared at him, started to correct him, but didn't. "Yeah, like the Flinstones."  I said and handed him a dart.  "Cool! I'm gonna beat Wilma Flinstone and she's gonna buy me a beer!" He was  rather sure of himself.   Sucker!  I won, game, set, match! Oh I know, I know, it wasn't tennis we were playing.  But I'm not familiar with the terminology for playing darts so I'm improvising, mmmkay?  When the game finished and the small crowd that was gathered around erupted in cheers and high fives, Fat Albert/Baby Huey, came up to me, picked me up and gave me a big bear hug, along with a minor heart attack! He scared the crap out of me!!!  "You're alright, Wilma!" and with that, he handed me a shot no less, and walked to the other side of the bar. 

Good times!

I'm Getting OLDer!

Age is a state of mind. Age is just a number.  -I find myself thinking more and more about getting older as time goes by.  Sigh, there is no escaping it, unfortunately.  The alternative would be death and well, I'm not ready for that either.  But then, who is?  I digress.  I went to a good friend's birthday get-together today.  It was held at an out door type pub/bar.  She turned 46 -my friend.  She looks incredible! Always has. She laughed when she read the birthday card I got her because it said that we would be friends even when we're 88 years old and wearing cute orthopedic shoes!  She cracked up and said, "Oh we'll be rockin those shoes! And we'll ALWAYS be incredibly sexy too!"   Hmm, not feeling much of the sexy right  now.  I think it's the whole "getting older" bit that is rattling my brain.  Thankfully, I have good genes! I have been told I do not look my age and quite frankly, I really don't.  But sometimes, I feel my age. And then I worry, what's going to happen when I do start looking older? Will anyone still find me attractive? Will my skin turn all loose? Will I look like one of the Golden Girls?  -If I do, I wanna be Blanche, she got more action than any Senior Citizen I know! Hell what I am saying? She got more action than me or any of my friends get now!  This is what is swirling in my head on this Sunday night.  And with this whole "growing older" mind-set, I worry about growing old -alone.  I never, even in my wildest dreams, ever thought I would be alone for the rest of my life.  And I'm not saying that I will be, but I do think about that possibility.  And it scares me.  When I turned 29, I was having anxiety attacks because I was going to turn 30 the following year.  Really, it's true! I had kind of a mini-nervous breakdown and everything! It was weird because when my actual 30th birthday rolled around 12 months later, I was perfectly fine! I had a big party and everything!  I think that's what's happening now.  Maybe.  In October I'll turn 45, then five years later, I'll be 50! O.M.G.   See? I make myself crazy sometimes with these whimsical thoughts of mine.  Age is a state of mind. -that is going to be my mantra from now on.  I have not a clue what will or will not happen in my life.  But I do know what I would like to happen, what I want and what I will make happen. Women are like wine, we age well.  So take THAT Father time and Mother Nature!  On that note, I'm off to uncork a nice Chilean bottle of wine that I bought over the weekend, and call it a night. 

You know the drill, Monday's on deck, new week ahead, hit it out of the ballpark kids! :)

Me, Myself and I

A little pampering can do wonders for your ego, your mood and your self-esteem! And Saturday was the day I decided to be good to myself. I treated myself to a massage, a facial, a manicure and pedicure and then I had my hair cut and colored.  There's nothing better than walking out of a beauty salon and feeling like a million bucks!  (because that's about the amount I spent in there! lol)  A day of beauty was followed by a lunch al fresco at local eatery. I enjoyed a glass of wine and people-watched.  It was great!  This is what I meant when I wrote in earlier posts that I have been neglecting myself.  Always looking out for others and doing for others, and when I look to do for myself, there is nothing left of me to give.  Well, I decided that the insanity stops now! (or yesterday, depending when you read this! lol)  Putting myself first is not a concept I am familiar with or comfortable with doing.  But I will, because I deserve it and need it.  A friend of mine, one of the musketeers actually, told me that I needed to love myself a little bit more. She was responding to an email I had sent to her when I was having an "episode".  Her reply said a lot more, but what jumped out at me were those words, "Love yourself a little bit more." ---And right then and there a light bulb went off in my head.  She was right, I don't love myself very much sometimes.  It shows in the patterns that I keep repeating.  The ones that are not emotionally healthy for me.  I promised myself  that no matter what, I would love myself a little more each day.  And I'd show it by breaking the bad habits that shadow my life.  As I later told the musketeer, "I'm a work in progress."   I've put everything in motion, all the pieces of the puzzle are laid out on the table, my job is to find those pieces that fit into my life and the ones that don't, I need to stop trying to make them fit and get rid of them.  Piece of cake! :)