My Love Affair

I've loved them for as long as I can remember.

Don't Stop Believin

Lingered Quietly

When I posted yesterday I forgot to mention an extraordinary thing that happened Wednesday night (besides not getting pooped on, barfed on, snotted on, scratched or bit).

I was sitting on my couch watching SYTYCD and had the strangest sensation that I was being held. The strong kind of hold like when you feel a man's hands on your face just before he leans in and takes for a kiss....or when you get one of those standing bear hugs (naked, of course). There was a strength to it that was comforting...and then the feeling just lingered,  quietly giving me peace.

Last Night

Last night:

I spent $100 at the vet's office for Bumper kitty's runny poop problem

Last night:

I had to wash the towels in the cat carrier because said Bumper kitty couldn't hold it for the three minute ride from the vet's office back to our house

Last night:

I had to wipe Bumper kitty's paws off...and then I had to change my clothes

Last night:

I canceled a dinner with my Pizza Guy Friend to clean the carpets and other surfaces soiled by, you guessed it, Bumper kitty

Last night:

Squash decided it would be fun to bite my arm...just because

Last night:

Percy snotted on my leg when he sneezed...AND barfed on my freshly laundered blanket.

Last night:

I awoke to a strange humming noise. Bumper kitty ventured downstairs and was sitting in front of my bed guarding me (Normally Squash's job). He was belly growling at Percy and Squash to keep them out of the room

Last night:

Bumper kitty's claws dug into my wrist while I was carrying him upstairs. This was actually not on purpose, he was trying to wriggle out of my arms to pick on a cat twice three times his size.

Last night:

I cried sobbed my first real tears out of ANGER over Russell leaving me (Read 0 for 2) (to be with his son in California) last year, and wrote an "I hate you for leaving me" letter in my mind.

Last night:

I cried because I'm tired of crying over this shit....the being alone shit, not the cat shit...

Last night:

Bumper kitty purred in my lap, even after I gave him his antibiotic.

Last night:

Percy flopped down next to me when I first got into bed and showed me his belly...and I totally forgot about my anxieties over a repeat of earlier snotting.

Last night:

Squash...well, Squash was pretty much a booger all night, but he did kill a bug.

Last night:

I resolved to being the best looking "Cat Lady" in Texas.

Like a Jerk

I picked The Peanut up yesterday from her dad's house. I was taking her to her ice skating lesson. First let me get my little dig in about how it crazes me that The P.A.N. will not bring Peanut to ice skating lessons, or any other lesson that I've signed her up for. The ice skating rink is around the corner from my office. He lives 15-20 minutes away...so I spent close to 40 minutes round trip just to pick her up. I'm getting very tired of the North Dallas Tollway. Let's just say it's taking it's "toll" on me (couldn't resist that silly pun). I'm even more tired of The P.A.N.

When I arrived she was just getting back from day camp. She was messy faced and messy haired. She wanted to run to our house first but I told her we didn't have time. "But mom, I need to brush my hair"

"Run back inside daddy's and get your brush"

"C'mon mom, you know I hate that brush. If I don't brush my hair I'm going to look like a complete jerk!"

Why she chose the word jerk is beyond me. After I stopped cracking up we ran to the Walgreen's to get one of her favorite hair brushes. When skating and dinner were over I took her back to her dad's house and told her she could keep the brush there.

She needs a good brush at his house, and after all, I didn't want to look like a jerk.

That's The P.A.N.'s job.

All of Me

I've had emotional intimacy. I wasn't searching for it at the time. At the time, the only thing I was searching for was myself. You see, I lost myself in my marriage. Gone was my sense of humor, my self worth, my courage. Wasted was my warmth and kindness... my smile rarely showing itself. I was in there all along, but I was too afraid to embrace myself...all of me, even my faults.

One day a kind soul looked deep inside my heart and helped me realize I was enough. He patiently and effortlessly supported me, we supported each other...and as the love grew, so did we.  I no longer feared being vulnerable, it was safe to be me...we provide that safe place for each other. It was powerful, emotional, real, and most of all connected.  

When we said good-bye I grieved the loss. The old, damaged me screamed, "It's all your fault!"...and, even though I knew it wasn't,  I carried that pain. Slowly I learned that it was okay to keep those memories, I didn't have to deny they happened in order to let go...perhaps most of all I've learned to how treasure them, but still look forward.

We get to choose who we love or don't love. I vow to choose wisely, for once you've shared the gift of intimacy anything less just won't do.

I once felt less than,

Then I was half of a "we", 

Now I'm all of me.

Snooze Button

I've been pretty busy the last couple of days, so I haven't had much time to write...and I also have a bit of writer's block over a topic that weighs on my mind (think "World Peace" kind of topic).

So if this blog had one, I'd hit the snooze button.

I'm Wearing Chocolate!

Saturday I met my bestie, Tracy over at the bridal shop. She's getting married in a couple of months. I am a bridesmaid. I had some reservations about finding a dress because of the mush-pile belly, the puffy arms and sagging tushy buns I've been sporting lately. Notice I did not mention my breasts...they're still fabulous, I'm happy to report.

Here's a link to Tracy's blog because not enough of you have gushed over her beautiful ring.

 Tracy's Blog

In her last post she mentioned some stress about wedding preparations. For those of you who don't know this girl, there's nothing she can't plan for. I have the utmost confidence that she will handle it like a pro. And I've already threatened to post in my blog if she becomes the dreaded "BrideZilla"!

Saturday morning I came armed with my high heels and was wearing these lovely gut suckers:

I know, awesome, right?

They're my secret weapon....shhhhhhhh!

Tracy helped me try the dresses on and didn't even laugh at my larger than life panties. She is awesome, let me tell you...because I walked out of there feeling good.

She was an Anti-BrideZilla...even let me pick the style that I wanted...each bridesmaid gets to choose the style, but we're all wearing the very cool color called Truffle. I'm wearing chocolate!

My 400th POST!!!!! and The Funny Looking Kid With the Big Nose

UPDATE: I just realized that this was my 400th post!

I've come a long way since The First One

I took some time to read through some of my older posts. I laughed, I cried, I laughed again...and I marveled at how much Peanut has grown...as have I.




I had some really big hair in 1986! I was 17 in this photo.

Yes, sometimes big belts just don't work

I looked like a Poodle Head. BTW, the girl in the picture was one of my good friends. She was very "flowerchild"-ish (usually wore hair straight and it was long and golden). Her nickname was Woodstock. I was Snoopy, because I loved Snoopy and I was the "funny looking kid with the big nose".

No Applause Necessary

I love that I have found my voice. No, not my singing voice...trust me when I tell you I don't think I ever had a singing voice to lose...which is sad because when I was younger I wanted to be Annie on stage.  

There was a time when that was all I wanted... to be on stage. I went to a drama camp several years in a row. It was a day camp that didn't involve camping and minimal exposure to mosquitoes...perfect! I never played Annie, but I did get the part of Aunt Eller in Oklahoma.

The stage was a place where I got to be somebody other than myself, where I could hold your attention. I was the kid that always got the "character" parts, never the lead...but I loved that! I had the role of Frenchie in Grease in high school (she barely sings)...still have my Pink Ladies jacket. It was my junior year. The part fit me and I loved being on that stage.

But in class I was quiet and shy, very unsure of myself. I had a nose that didn't quite fit my face which was especially tough as I grew up in Miami, FL. Every JAP (Jewish American Princess) in the school had a nose job...some even got them as a Bat Mitzvah present...at 13! In addition to my "Blossom" like nose, I had BIG curly hair (It was the 80's). Everybody had perms, but mine was natural and unruly...and I made the mistake of having it cut in layers...you can't do that with curly hair unless you want to look like a POODLE! Besides the awkwardness of being a teenager, I could not do presentations in class. I remember a teacher telling me this once, "You act on stage, so I'm surprised you had so much trouble with your presentation." It was true, I couldn't be myself.

In college I opted to become Drama Queen instead of an actress on stage... yet I still felt like I was not heard. I took a job one summer working for Pepsi. I was a Sampler, which meant I got to go to grocery stores, etc and hand out samples of soda. This is where I shined! I smiled so much that my cheeks hurt when I got home. Part of my job was to go up to people and ask them if they wanted to take the Diet Pepsi Challenge. My smile could usually win them over, and I had crowds around me. I loved that job...but I was meek and mild every other moment of my life.

I perfected the craft of Drama Queen when I was in my mid-20's. I was so needy, yet I didn't know how to get my needs met. I never stood up for myself. I put up with crappy relationships just to be in one. This carried through to my early to mid 30's...which is how I ended up with The P.A.N. Not only did I lose my voice with him, I lost every ounce of joy. Every moment was filled thinking about how badly he treated me and what I wasn't getting from the relationship. Not a single basic need was met. I tried nicely asking, then screaming, silence, sex...nothing worked.  I hated him, and I loathed myself.

The day I got my voice back was some time after my divorce. I was seeing a therapist. The first thing she told me was, "I'm going to help you get through the divorce, but then we're going to work on YOU". Meaning we weren't going to re-hash what The P.A.N. had done (or not done). I was going to have to dig deep down inside and find my voice. It was going to be hard work, painful at times, humbling, refreshing and even embarrassing. I had to look at ME.

Over the past few years I've grown so much, a Method Actress if you will. I perfected my craft via beautiful, healing relationships. I've stood on the stage and delivered my lines with conviction. I've turned down roles that didn't fit. I've taken cues when I've needed to and given them as well. I studied myself. I gave myself honest reviews and worked on my craft some more.

There is no cure for being a Drama Queen, once you've learned those lines they become part of you. But you can overcome being type-cast into this role. It has been several years since I started this process, but I did finally realized that I didn't want that role of being a Drama Queen to define me. I wanted a new part, one with good character and a voice I could love and recognize as my own. No applause necessary.

Hold Still

Had a bit of bad news last week about Bumper, the cat that adopted us. He tested negative for the kitty leukemia, but positive for FIV (cat version of AIDS). I was afraid of that. As it turns out, this virus can only be transmitted if Bumper were to bite Percy or Squash...and even then there's only a small chance since they've been vaccinated.

It is very hard to take pictures of Bumper, so here's a funny close-up.

Hold Still!!!!!

Speaking of pictures, I just added some to my last post, Deafening Silence Hope you enjoy the visuals.

My Kid Cracks Me Up

Peanut is still pretty annoyed about her hair being hacked off the other week. It looks good, but it was so gorgeous when it was longer (not to mention she waited so long to grow it out).

This is what she is now telling people who comment about her hair cut:

"My dad took me to the salon and they wasted this much of my hair"

 As she saying this she's showing that it used to be about two inches longer...with this funny but angry face (and a whole bunch of attitude).

I love how kids look at things. Her hair was, indeed, wasted.

My kid cracks me up.

Tushy Buns

You know when radio hosts go on vacation and they sometimes air previously recorded show?  I'm not a radio host, and I'm not going on vacation (sigh!)...but I am out of words today and Tracy's blog post reminded me of one of my sillier posts from long ago. I was 39 when I wrote this.

Take a look:  Mom Jeans

Since then I have discovered these amazing jeans called "Not Your Daughter's Jeans"...they sit on the waist and give me great tushy buns...I never get tired of saying tushy buns. Makes me giggle. And while I'm at it, here's the story behind the phrase tushy buns:

The Tushy Buns Story

And lastly, here's the only shot you'll ever see of me naked

Who Are the People in Your Blogger-Hood?

I am happy to be saving my last Cadbury Egg of the season for Julianna over at Surviving Boys.

Why, you ask?

Because I'm gonna be in Boston for a work conference in September and we're gonna meet up!

Julianna was one of my first followers that I didn't have to pay wasn't a personal friend. Through her posts, I've stumbled upon some awesome blogs...not to mention that hers is fantastic! (Seriously, I raved about her blog to friends).

I am trying to remember exactly how I found Julianna's blog. I can't remember if it was through Blogs of Note or if when reading another blog I found her comments to be awesome. Anyway, I started following her and she followed back! That's what we do, right? We grow our little blogger-hoods, follower by follower...and reach out to our blogger neighbors to borrow strength and courage...or sometimes just a hearty laugh.

Who are the people in your Blogger-Hood?

What I Love Wednesdays

I lost my virginity on July 6, 1988.

It was awful, and very cliche'. He told me he loved me after 2 weeks of dating. I wanted to be loved...and I liked the way he'd sing in my ear at night (Breathe's Hands to Heaven) He broke up with me 2 weeks later...well, really it was the next day...but it took 2 weeks of shamelessly hounding him before he came clean. Interesting to note, his birthday is May 8th...same as Peanut's. Yes, that was going through my mind when she arrived at 3am (damn!).

My experiences with love have been challenging.  Dates get stuck in my head, anniversaries of joy and hurt...but from the joy and pain of loving (and losing) I've grown. Those dates are part of me, but they don't define me. I'm deep, vulnerable, expressive, accepting of myself (mostly). 

I love knowing that I'm no longer that "needy" girl...

It's Wednesday, what do you love?

Here I Go

It's noon...I'm still in my jammies. Peanut is in one of her costumes, full makeup...she actually did a pretty good job. I've made the beds, vacuumed the carpets, watered the flowers in the pots outside, fed the kitties, fed myself, fed Peanut breakfast and lunch...and still I'm feeling in a fog.

Woke out of a strange dream this morning. Did my best not to let my mind travel to the Land of What Should Have Been's...for the most part I succeeded...but the dream is still lingering in my head.

So I'm lounging with the dream right now and letting myself relax and have a good cry...we all need that sometimes...at least I do. Deep breath, here I go...

Terrific

Now that we know CATherine is really a he kitty, we're calling him by our original nickname, Bumper.

We've had Bumps upstairs in the guest room since yesterday. This sweet, little kitty is quite extraordinary, and we've already grown quite fond of him. He constantly bumps up against you (and furniture) and then flops down and cuddles.

I'm painting a sweet, awe she must have loved to watch Highway to Heaven when she was in her 20's because she had nothing else to do, picture, right?

Bumper Cat has gas.

Gas!

Peanut thought this was hysterical, of course, and decided to join in the fun.

Terrific.

No Solicitors.....please

First off, good morning!

I was not going to get sucked into writing this weekend, and here I am!

Quote of the day:

"Mom, there are two floaties, but the rest were sinkers"  I probably asked for this the day I taught her what a "stinky biscuit" was.

Getting my mind off poopie humor now.

Shocker of the day:

"I think you need to take another look. She's a HE." That's right, much to my surprise, Catherine the cat is really a he. He had been neutered and his beans were barely noticeable. So we are going with his nickname, "Bumper" cat. Peanut asked the vet if we could still pretend he was a girl kitty and call him Catherine. She didn't quite get it when I said that we  didn't want the kitty to have an identity crisis.

Truth of the day: No Solicitors Please!

I'm enjoying everyone's blogs. They're real...sometimes I laugh with you and sometimes I cry. The frankness and raunchy posts are a guilty pleasure I have to admit...You keep writing, I'll keep reading...'cause you're funny and say things that shock the hell out of me...and on top of that, you're brave enough to be you...I am happy to Follow (really, sometimes your posts are the most exciting thing in my otherwise dull day).

This brings me to my truth of the day...I've got great "Followers". Most amazing and diverse bunch of people on the planet! And this might sound cryptic to some of you, but I hope any new Followers who come along are not following to solicit "business". I do not what to "expose" you to the particulars, but let's just say this recently happened to some fellow bloggers.

No solicitors....please.