Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Molly's Bar: A Love Story

One Friday night in February, 1990, my college roommates and I went to the bar we always went to. Molly’s. We loved that bar. We OWNED that bar. We were under-aged in that bar.

We would gear up in our footless tights (anyone remember that phase—the black tights with no feet worn underneath mini skirts?), tops that were not very revealing, because even though we were slutsos, we were not THAT kind of slutso, and earrings bigger than Christmas ornaments that jangled so loudly you knew we were coming a mile away.

So, we’d be all geared up for a night of drinking, with our five-dollar bill in hand. Because that’s all we needed. Five bucks. We could get a pretty hearty buzz from five bucks. Each beer was $1.00. Five beers and the night was ours. Imagine our dismay the next year when the price was jacked up to a buck-twenty-five. Were we ever pissed. We were sure they upped the price so patrons would just say, “Oh, keep the change” from two dollars. We never did. We waited, palm opened, for that seventy-five cents to be returned by a scowling waitress in a white tuxedo shirt and black pants.

The key to a great night at Molly’s was getting a table. And tables back in the ‘90s were hard to come by. Another key to a great night at Molly’s was getting INTO the bar. Since we were not yet of legal age, we had to use our womanly wiles and charm to seduce the bouncer into letting us in. Usually, that didn’t work. Instead, we just had to make sure we got to the bar in plenty of time before the bouncer was on duty at the front door.

This made for a loooonnnggg evening at Molly’s when we arrived at 5 p.m.

However, this assured us our beloved table. Everybody wanted a table. From sophomore year through senior year, we got tables. And we’d sit at that table, and drink dollar drafts from slivery-iced beer glasses chilled with gorgeous chips of ice dripping from the sides. We’d sit from 5 p.m. until closing time at 1 a.m. That’s a lot of bar time.

There was one particular night we didn’t quite make it at 5 p.m. and when we arrived, the place was unusually packed for a Friday at 6 p.m. We looked around and discovered, ugh, and this pains me to say… we discovered a fraternity/sorority happy hour event being held at OUR.BELOVED.BAR.

No tables. Crowds of Greek-letter wearing fraternizing fraternity boys and sorority bimbs. At first glance, we were sure it was going to be a sign of a bad night to come.

After making our way to the bar, where we each shucked down our buck for our draft, we noticed the crowd thinning a bit, and a table almost, yet not quite, becoming vacant.

Have you ever done the ‘hovering’ move? Where you know the people are finished with their beers, they’re[thisclose]toleaving and you want to make sure you and your friends score the table, thus ensuring the evening a success.

We skimpered over to the table (how does one skimper, you ask? Beats me), surrounded it like geese attacking a piece of stale bread, and waited. We waited, we crouched, we were ready to pounce. We were carnivorous lions awaiting our turn at the zebra carcass trough (Okay, so I’m feeling a bit metaphorical today).

The patrons left. We pounced. We pounced desperately, determined to make the kill, but were met with other carnivores.

Two of ‘em.

College boys.

More specifically, college football players.

Friend S#1 spoke first, because she was the most determined, “We got here first!”

After a quick discussion between FriendS#1 and one of the guys, it was decided we could actually share the table since there were two of them and three of us. However, I was too struck by the eyes and strength and bigness of the other guy.

In a word, upon first sight, I was Smitten. Struck. It was decided right there and then that I wanted this boy. This football player boy.

I hate football.

I didn’t care how many games the team had won. I didn’t know a thing about positions, except the quarterback has to stick his hands into the sweaty realms of some other guy with the ball.

He was a starter for the team. He wore a letterman jacket. I should be swooning over these facts.

Instead, I was swooning over his beautiful blue eyes, and, at a later time in the evening, his cute, tight butt. He had big muscles and was six-feet-five-inches. He had a dimple in one cheek, and blue, blue eyes, which I may have mentioned, but man, they were so blue!

They shared their table. Both boys were entertaining, funny, etc. When ‘the one’ told me where he was from, immediately in my mind, I tried to figure out geographical logistics and whether or not his home was further from my home to school or closer. I still don’t know. Ha. Geography, never one of my strong suits.

I remember going into the bathroom with Friend S#2 that night, and flat-out saying, “I like his eyes and his butt.” I remember exactly the shirt he was wearing, and how soft arm hair peeked out at his wrists. I remember how he and his friend shared pizza with us girls, and how he bought me a beer, which, in college, was a mighty big investment at a first meeting. I wish I could remember the playlist of songs from that night. I am sure there was some Black Crows, Van Morrison, maybe American Pie. Damn. That would be a great thing to have locked into my memory—the music of that night.

Later, we decided to go over to the other bar on campus we liked, Amnesia, but I forgot what we did there. Ha, just kidding, but did you get it? Amnesia. Well, I certainly know there were many forgotten nights there. That bar no longer exists. Only in muddled memories of college students long forgotten.

So. Molly’s.

The football player – the one I met that cold night in February 1990. Well, I married him.

Fast-Forward to 2006----------

Molly’s is an amazingly special and important place for Hubby and me. In retrospect, I wish I went to Molly’s on my wedding day. In retrospect, I wish I had my wedding reception at Molly’s. In retrospect, we almost named Diva Molly. Really.

Anyway. We took Ajers, Diva and Tukey there on Sunday.

“Do you guys want to see the place Mommy and Daddy met?” we asked them.

“Yes, yes, yes!” they screamed.

Is it wrong? Is it wrong to take your 8, 7 and 4-year olds to a bar? Well, look at it this way, it was Sunday. Most college students are too hung-over or catching up on schoolwork Sunday afternoons to go get sloshed at the bar they were at a mere 18 hours earlier so we figured it wouldn’t be your regular college crowd.

I had not been to Molly’s since Ajers was six-months old and Hub’s sister graduated from our alma mater.

We got to the bar, and of course, before we parked, Diva was screaming, “I have to pee! I’m going to pee my pants! I think I just did!”

I grabbed her arm and ran her into the bar. A waitress, asked, “Do you need the bathroom?”

I didn’t want to just come out and say, “Look, girly, in the swishy Bohemian fuschia skirt and the half-t-shirt tucked into your bra, I’ve probably peed (and perhaps vomited a few times) in that bathroom more times than you’ve even had days alive on this here earth. I know where the bathroom is!”

Instead, I just acted like I didn’t know as she pointed to the back, right next to the two dart board machines that were there even 16 years ago.

You know me. I don’t drink beer. Have you ever heard me tell you I had a beer? Well, maybe a couple this summer, those Blue Moons with a chunk of orange in the glass, but seriously, I haven’t drank beer in a looonnnnng, looonnnng time.

I had two beers there on Sunday, and let me tell you, they cost double what they were 15 years ago, but they were the best damned beers I have had in a verrrrryyy loonnnnngg time.

I was there with my husband, who I met at that exact same place 16 years ago. We were sharing snacks and laughter and fond memories with our three beautiful kids, and we were reminiscing of days gone by, but certainly not forgotten.

Molly’s is the kind of place like I imagine Cheers was to Sam and Cliffy and Norm. It was a place where everyone knew everyone, there was no bullshit about it, you were just there to have a good time, hang with friends, drink a couple two-three cheapo good Miller Lite drafts, and maybe, perhaps, just maybe, on a cold February night, meet the man of your dreams.

Sunshine and Highlights

It's been like three days in a row, maybe four, of perpetual sunshine. I am coming up from the dirt, peeking above the soil, starting to bloom. Feeling better. Feeling pink and yellow and fuschia. Not feeling sad. Walking outside. Feeling awakened, alive. Smiling at freaking geese. Yes, the geese.

That's the sunshine part.

The hightlights. I went to the salon last night and while I was waiting I haphazardly glanced at the counter where there are usually pitchers of lemonade and ice-cold water. My gal pal, and colorist extraordinaire, Amanda, walks over just as my eyes lock on the most beautiful sight ever seen on the counter.

"You have WINE?"

"Yeah, you want a glass?"

"Hell yeah!"

I've been going to this salon for over a year, and I had no idea they had wine. And that I could drink it. For free. As much as I wanted to.

Free wine.
Some sunshine.
New highlights.

That's all it took, and I am back to myself.

Of course, I ain't throwing out my Xanax yet.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Don't Tell

I have secrets.

Some of them I could care less if you knew. That's what makes a secret so interesting; the fact that it's yours, and yours alone, and no one else is aware of what you hold inside.

It's not a secret if it's something shared between two people. There's always the temptation to cut out the other person; there's always the "what if" of knowing that person could share the secret with others, thereby negating the secrecy of it. Causing possible harm to those previously unaware of the secret.

A secret.

Something that must be known by no one personally you know.

I think a secret could be shared with an anonymous person, someone that might have experienced the event that caused that secret to come into being in the first place, that caused that secret to spread and bloom, to fester inside.

Someone that has the same secret as you, because that secret came about because of the two of you, but someone you will never walk paths with again, someone so anonymous, the risk of your secret getting back to you, or anyone you love, does not even exist.

Now. That's a secret.

I don't think I have any of those kinds of secrets. However, as I think about this, I do know others and the secrets they've shared, and there's always the risk that I could be the next sharer of that secret. Or you could share a secret you've sworn yourself to. In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could ruin a few marriages, a few lives with some of the secrets I have been made privy to. Not that I would ever do that, but doesn't that thought alone make you scared to spill your guts to a friend? That by sharing your secret, you put your life at risk of being completely ruined by the words from someone else's lips?

I can't imagine having to keep something so secret from my spouse that if he were to find out, it could wreck all the lives surrounding ours, including ours.

I can't imagine thinking every single day of my life, "What if so-and-so tells my secret and so-and-so finds out about it." How can a person live like that, knowing that such a secret is out there, waiting to spread its disease into all those you hold dear?

I think people sometimes with secrets like these convince themselves the events surrounding the secret didn't really occur and block it out of their memory, saying "Oh, that didn't really happen; it couldn't have happened. It never happened."

And they try to live a life with that secret in their souls, hidden down deep; trying to quiet that secret that wishes to erupt from the soul, to cleanse the soul, to become free from its tangles and barbed-wireness it possesses, constantly scratching, and tapping, and trying to get out of your soul. How can you clearly live freely and wholly with something that sacred, that secret stuck inside of you?

This Book Gave Rise To This Post

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Marriage: Hard Work?

A married couple who are friends of ours were over and we were having a conversation about marriage. Oh, and a few cocktails. This is what ensued between the two of them.

We were discussing marriage and if they thought it was hard work. Then the wife looked at her husband and started this discussion with him, while Hubby and I looked on:

She: Do you think marriage is hard work?

He: Fuck No.

Her eyes kind of lit up and I could see she started glowing, thinking that theirs is a marriage that is so smooth, so loving, so caring, that it was a cinch to be married to her. Boy, was she wrong. After a minute, he continued to explain why he thought his marriage wasn't hard work:

His epiphany:
I just ignore you and do what I want.

Okay, so, that wasn't really a conversation between friends, I just said that to gauge your reaction, and I probably shouldn't be telling you this because I wanted to get your initial response to the above conversation, which actually occurred between my husband and me last night in bed, after some "conversation and cuddling."

No, really, we seriously were conversing and cuddling.

So, after he said, "I just ignore you and do what I want," we both cracked up, because anyone who knows us knows he doesn't IGNORE me, and he certainly DOESN'T DO WHAT HE WANTS. He DOES WHAT I WANT, DAMMIT! But, hey, if that's what he wants to think is what makes our marriage work, I'll just let him keep thinking that.

I guess I don't really talk about our marriage all that much on this blog, because come on folks, some things are just too sacred, too private, too ROMANTIC to share with the world.

So, while our little family takes a little mini-vacation, I'll let you mull this post over a bit, and please, let me know what you think about marriage; is it hard, is it fun, is it all work and no play. Do you regret decisions you've made in the past; how do you make up when you fight? DO you fight? Cuz I really don't think Hubby and I do. Hell, how can we fight if he just ignores me and does what he wants?!?!?

Have a great weekend! I'm planning on it.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Warning: Post Contains Whine...

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww Bummer.

Insert sad smiley face and a whiny attitude.

I guess I can remain as anonymous as I have been because I did not make the finals in the SHARE THE LOVE Blog Awards as Most Meetable.

Back under my rock folks, to nurse my wounds and my pingy little hangover. Aw screw it, good excuse to take the kid to Mickey D's for a vanilla shake and fries. The cure-all for anything that ails!

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Sorry Blair, No Cab Vomit

Three appletinis, one glass of clois de bois chardonnay and I'm good to go. I totally needed this night to shed my depressed snake skin and come clean into spring, cuz isn't spring just like in a few more weeks?

I decided I'm not fixing any mistakes and as soson oops, as soon as i decided that, i stopped making mistakes. wow.

so, there ,,, not three, yes, three I SAID THREE appletinis later, plus a nightcap glass of fully filled clois de bloi8, wahtever chardonnay, and I'm happy, no cab vomit.

Wait. We did not take a cab. Lucky Gina drove us gals home. Thanks Gina! Do you even know I have a blog??!?!!?

So, the waiter, who I have met before. SHOUT OUT TO JOHN AKA RAINE... told me something so precious tonight, so important. See, he is not only a waiter, he is also many more things: a hair designer; a music producer; and a musician from this band:
Air This Side of Caution, which I just so happen to have in my hands a signed CD, so THERE!...

ANyway, John aka Raine to his music pals shared his CD with me, and his blog, and I told him I was a writer/blogger, etc etc. and then I told him he probably woulnd't be interested in my blog, cuz come on, it's all aobut... oops, about, being Manic Mom and her Mental Myraids, ooops Myriads. You know what John/Raine siad... ooops, said?

He said, and this is prophetic. Wait, is that a word? Anyway, this is important.

He said, and I quote, from John aka Raine from Air This Side of Caution


So. That is what I'm going to do. Tomorrow, after I get my super-buzzed-but-not-cab=vomit=butt into bed.

Good night freinds... oops, friends. Cuz you are. I hope you know that. Really.

Could It Be?

Did I actually wake up happy today? Tired, but happy?

What is this feeling I'm having? Hmmm... I may have to blog about it later, it's such a strange, surreal feeling to wake in a good mood. Will it last all day? Will it last the rest of this dreadful, dreary winter slum, bringing me back to Happy Manic? Hope so.

Girl's Night Out in the 'Hood tonight. But I can guarantee, probably to Blair's dismay (shout-out Blair!), there will not be any cab vomit stories to share... Or will there?

It's been a while...

Wednesday, February 22, 2006


Slump continues. As probably noted by my lack of Blogging. In the meantime, I'm reading this, which is a nice escape from real life.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Fun On Friday

"Borrowed" this quiz from Another Steph. Made a couple changes to it. Would LOVE to hear your answers in the comments section! Happy Friday!

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4.
"Chilled from the rain," I answered, quickly disengaging.

2. Name of the book.
Disturbing the Peace, by Nancy Newman. Have not read it yet, except for page 18, line 4, of course.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

4. Without looking guess what time it is?

5. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time.
10:40--Ooh, I'm good.

6. Besides the computer, what else can you hear?
Fan from the heater, cleaning lady making noise, Dora or something else, oh yeah, Lazy Town.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
Twenty minutes ago. To find garbage bags and to recycle the empty cardboard box of tampons. Empty box, folks.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
The blog where I found this quiz.

9.What are you wearing?
Old Navy brown long-sleeve shirt. Jeans that feel too tight. Ugly old underwear. A bra. Black socks.

10. Did you dream last night?
Oh yeah! This is a good question--I dreamed my mom, who is 61 was pregnant and she was going to have the baby, and my sister and I were like, that's cool, cuz if you die, we can just take care of the baby. And then my mom got my sister and I some charms from Tiffany's like the one from the sterling silver link bracelet, and the charms had our birthdates and names on them, and I was annoyed because my charm had brushed gold on it and my sister's did not, and the brushed gold does not match the sterling silver and I wanted to try to steal my sister's charm, but then realized I couldn't because it had her name on it.

11. When did you last laugh?
Right now, as I thought about that crazy dream.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
My favorite room in my house--cream red Disney color called Firefly something or the other, pictures of my children, letters that spell out D R E A M that I bought and painted metallic gold, and little hanging thing that says S I M P L I F Y. One of those cork boards where you slip pictures through the ribbons, and it's got pictures of my very close friends on it, and then lots of pictures of beautiful children of my close friends and a great picture of my new nephew, who I will get to play with all weekend--Ethan!

Also on the walls are ribbons with cut-out decorated stars hanging from them that Diva created and they blow in the air when the heater goes on. They remind me of how much I love her when I see them every day. Let's see, what else is in here. A cool votive candle holder with beading that I'm always too scared to light because what if the wax drips onto my chair? A sunshine mirror. An Irish Claddaugh mirror. Another sunshine mirror; Jamaican artwork I love by Claude Dambreuilley, and a small paper machette painted sunshine to remind me to be happy.

Oh, and a lightswitch.

13. Seen anything weird lately?
Too much to write about.

14. What do you think of this quiz?
Better than the one where they ask you who would be most likely to respond and what is your favorite color, or who did you talk to on the phone last. I hope those questions aren't below, because I truly didn't look through the whole quiz.

15. What is the last film you saw?
Movie? At the theater, Nanny McPhee, which was awesome, and I was crying at the end, and Diva was looking at me and begging me not to cry, please Mommy, don't cry, it's not sad!

16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
A personal chef. A personal trainer. Both would have to be late twenties, and hot. Oh, and Random House or one of those big publishing companies so I could get my novel published!

17. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
No murder. No cancer. Shit, I can't think of just one.

18. Do you like to dance?
With a good buzz and good music.

19. George W. Bush is:
a president? The son of a former president? A guy who the comedians on SNL makes fun of?

20. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
DivaBitchDoll. This one's not fair because I have one already, so I'm omitting this question, and the next one which is the same question but about a boy.

21. Did you learn anything about this quiz?
Yeah, I like my office. And, I'm hungry.

22. Here's one I just thought up: What is the most significant memory of your childhood, good or bad?
When I was three and pooped in my underwear and my Dad was watching basketball and I don't know where my mom was (work maybe) and he made me go into the bathroom and clean it up myself, and I remember thinking there are tiny little holes in the underwear because when they sew them, there just are. So, I was amazed that the poop stayed in the underwear and didn't leak through all the holes. It was gross. I really, really remember that.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Most Meetable? Me? In Real Life?

Someone nominated me for Most Meetable Blogger, Arbitrary Insights category which is totally laughable these days as I've turned into a hermit who wishes to be seen by no one. However, if you think I would be Most Meetable, go on over to One Woman's World to cast your vote here for Most Meetable Manic Mom. Heh, maybe that's why I was nominated--all those Ms running together sound kinda mushy.

What could I possibly win? The joy and prestige of meeting people and telling them "Hey, I'm most meetable!" Yeah, that would go over really well. Anyway, it's up to you. But, just keep in mind that I never really did win anything in high school, I didn't make the cheerleading squad, I didn't get asked to Homecoming or Prom senior year, and I've been feeling like a loser lately... are you now guilted into rushing over to One Woman's World to give me a splinter of happiness by casting your vote?

Thanks to Jess for the nomination, and who you will want to vote for in the Humor category (because she is hilarious, and a soon-to-be-famous author), and I would have certainly nominated her had I known this Blog Award was out there. Maybe Jess voted me Most Meetable because her dream will come true in just two months when she and I meet, and share a hotel room together (with Swishy too, who already got to meet Meetable Me), but, that will be a Blog entry for later days my friends, and sure to be a memorable one!

While you're voting over at
One Woman's World, don't forget Novelist In Training, Caryn, for most Best Writing, and Most Thought-Provoking Blog categories, and Cool Kelly Nello, for best site design and/or learning something new every day categories. And lastly, send a vote for Heather, best commenter.

Share the Blog Love folks! Remember, I didn't get asked to Prom!

Tuesday, February 14, 2006



Hope those
you who want
lucky, do!

those of you who
just want a
back massage, get one!

Hope those
of you who want
eat chocolate, do!

get one!

Hope those of you
want hugs
from your
little ones, get them!

Hope for Love,
No Matter
Who It Comes From!


Sunday, February 12, 2006

Today I...

In chronological order:

Got up at 9:45 a.m.

Made chocolate chip/cinnamon pancakes and turkey sausage.

Surfed the 'net.

Allowed children to have playdates.

Snuck upstairs and had a cheeseburger.

Spooned with hubby for two hours, while we slept from 1:00-3:00 p.m.

Told him upon waking that I felt better than getting a massage.

Ate leftover steak fajitas with Hubby and Tukey.

Reminded Hubby that 15 years ago today, he did this to me.

Got on living room couch, read this.

Snoozed some more.

Got up.

Sent some kids back to their own homes.

Made noodles and butter for the boys; sliced apples and bread for Diva.

Went to Starbucks in my pajamas at 6:00 p.m. to get my dinner-a grandenonfatcinnamondolcelattewithwhip.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

New Meaning To "Giving Head"

Woman Carrying Human Head Arrested in Fla.
By Associated Press
Fri Feb 10, 8:41 PM

FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. - Airport baggage screeners found a human head with teeth, hair and skin in the luggage of a woman who said she intended to ward off evil spirits with it, authorities said Friday.

Myrlene Severe, 30, a Haitian-born permanent U.S. resident, was charged Friday with smuggling a human head into the U.S. without proper documentation.


Customs and Border Protection officials found the head Thursday, after Severe arrived at Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport on a Lynx International Airlines flight from Cap Haitien, Haiti, said Barbara Gonzalez, a spokeswoman for U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement in Miami.

"It still had teeth, hair and bits of skin and lots of dirt," Gonzalez said.
[And a hankering for the bag of peanuts the Head never received because Said Head was not permitted to travel!]

Severe told authorities she had obtained the package in Haiti for "use as a part of her voodoo beliefs," ICE Special Agent Erick Hernandez wrote in an affidavit in support of a criminal complaint.

"Severe also stated that the purpose of the package was to ward off evil spirits," Hernandez wrote.

[I interrupt this Internet article to tell you the following part had me cracking up...]

Severe, who also was charged with failing to declare the head and transporting hazardous material in air commerce, faces a maximum of 15 years in prison if convicted of all charges, prosecutors said.
I envision a conversation between Ms. Severe (good last name, by the way, very appropriate) and the airline staff--

"Do you have anything to declare, ma'am?"


"What do you have to declare?"

"A Head."

"Human or Animal?"

"Human Head."

"Very well then. Thank you for declaring the Head. You may proceed through customs."

If only she had the forethought to make the declaration, but then again, maybe she just wasn't thinking straight, maybe, just maybe, she wasn't using her head?

Friday, February 10, 2006

OK, This Is So Totally Wrong...

I've canceled my dermatologist appointment and instead, I am going to lie in a tanning bed for twenty minutes.

This is just wrong. But I'm gonna do it, because lying somewere warm right now will feel a whole lot better than some old guy poking around my flab and pasty body who will eventually just end up telling me I have sun damage.

No shit. I lived in Florida until I was 16. Nothing's going to change that. We baked ourselves silly any chance the sun was out and the temperature was about 60 degrees in college (remember girls). We grabbed tinfoil by the foot and strategically placed it underneath our bodies to get maximum sun exposure. We scoffed at SPFs and bought Baby Oil in 48-ounce sized bottles. We basked in the Spring-Break Daytona sun eight hours straight, drinking tons of beers and wearing bikinis and no sun screen.

So guess what? I'm cold. I'm drearily bummed out with this effed-up weather, and two friends suggested a visit to Mr. Tanning Bed. This sure as hell beats a visit to Mr. Let's-grope-you-all-over-in-search-of-non-existent-moles-and-tell-you-you-have-sun-damage-and-recommend-some-overly-priced-cosmetic-shit-to-rub-on-my-body-while-also-charging-me-a-freaking-co-pay.

I'm spending that co-pay at the tanning salon!

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Spilling Milkthoughts

I got nothing to say
And no one to hear.
Would you listen if I asked you near?

The food is my demon
The taste is my hell
To swallow it whole
To fill up the swell

Running in circles
Not a place I can go
The desert so empty
But so is the snow

Standing afar, but looking within
To see myself searching
For a smile a grin

For sleep’s at its best
Quiet rises from me
To wake is to die
Oh what will I see?

Children and love
And friendships and more
Why can I not quiet
This noise I abhor.

This means nothing,
Just milk spilling free
Really just words
That fell out of me.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Contest Winner

Congrats to MW in Connecticut for guessing the names of all my siblings, and ironically enough, in correct age order. Blogger had been acting up, so her comment with the winning answers did not show up on my Blog, but I receive every comment in my home email. There was a close second with Derphangus's guess too, which came in 13 minutes after MW's guess, but there can only be one winner--If only you hadn't been googling Dancing with the Stars!(Derphangus, I tried to put a link to your site here, but couldn't find it, so if you wanna post a comment with your blog address, I'll link you here.)

MW will be receiving an iTunes card in the mail sometime this week. Thanks for playing, and I'll do some more contests in the future!

Diva Dialogue

Me, all nice and sweet as I go in to wake Diva this a.m. for school:

"Sweetie, it's time to get up."

"I don't want to go to school."

"You have to."

"No. I don't want to go to school ever again."

"Listen. And this is the truth. If you don't go to school, policemen will come to the house and take me to jail."

A thoughtful pause from Diva, and then: "They can take Daddy!"

Monday, February 06, 2006


That's how I feel. As if I'm being pulled in a million different directions yet not going anywhere. It's frustrating to be in this frame of mind. And I don't know how to stop feeling this way. I am irritable, cranky, moody, introverted, and really, I don't think this is me, and I don't like how I'm feeling about myself, about the energy I am wasting sitting, waiting, doing nothing (to paraphrase Jack Johnson)... What am I waiting for?

Isn't everything I need already here, right within my very own reach?

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Superbowl Anyone? Or Is It Super Ball?

She wants to be a football! Check out my very good friend, Divorced Diva and newly-addicted blogger.

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Is Blogger Hungry?

Blogger keeps eating my posts. Is anyone else experiencing Blogger Warfare? I had some really good, juicy, 'altering' things spilling out of my head, and now, they're gone. Both posts.

However, I think it may be divine intervention that some of the things I was sharing last night at 3 a.m. are no longer in Blog Land. But dammit, I want to be the one who decides if my posts stay or go!

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Ground Hog Happy Day

Reasons to feel happy today, in no particular order:

1. I woke up.
2. Got to talk to my friend Kelly on the phone, whom I love completely and dearly.
3. Got to talk to another close friend, Kris, as well.
4. Went for a kick-ass power walk today.
5. While on walk, heard Terrance Trent D'arby song, which made me think of Ex, which didn't make me happy, but then trusty iPod played Coldplay, Counting Crows, a kick-ass extended version of Peter Gabriel's Secret World, Abba, Natalie Merchant, (I skipped through Brian Ferry and the Madagascar "I Like To Move It" songs).
6. Got to cuddle with Tukey like he was a little baby.
7. Got a nice email from a lurker--shout out Blair--promise I'll puke soon.
8. Got a request for my full manuscript.
9. Tukey was waving hysterically from his classroom window when I went to pick him up and it made my heart explode.
10. I'm getting my house cleaned tomorrow!
11. Today is the 16th anniversary of the day I met Hubby. I sure as heck wasn't caring if the Groundhog came out that night, if you know what I mean!
12. My mom made me happy when I talked to her on the phone today. Love you mom--keep up the great work!
13. I smiled at a lady in line at the pharmacy and she smiled back and it was one of those smiles on both our parts that were so genuine, like you could tell we were both wishing happiness to the other just by the size of our smiles. And she was a stranger. It was an annonymous gesture that made me feel good.
14. I tried a new concoction at Starbucks: tallnonfatcafelattewithonepumpcinnamondolce and liked it. By the way, hope your first day was great Mo!

It's only 2 p.m. so I'm hoping to add to this list, but in the meantime, here's a little trivia game to play, in which, if you are a friend or relative, you are absolutely exempt from playing, so please do not post your answers in comments, friend or relative. Thanks!

Here's the question: I have three siblings. We all have names that start with the same letter in the alphabet. Two of us are girls. Two are boys. Both boys have names with one syllable. Both girls do not. What are the four names? If there's anyone out there who can guess who I do not personally know as a friend or a friend of a friend, or a relative, I'll send you a prize. You have to get all four names right in one comment, and you may guess up to three times. So, go ahead and guess away!

And, here's to a happy day for everyone! Cheers!