It's in there!

Semi home made. Yes, its a real thing in my house. The lady trained me to use the convenience of pre-made foods and add fresh ingredients to make the meal healthier and tastier. Had a craving for spaghetti today so I made some for a late dinner. The sauce wasn't mine, it's Prego. Why? Because it's in there! And then some because I add whatever makes sense and is available in my fridge. Fresh onion, mushrooms, bell pepper (not green ones - yuck), lean ground meat, and red pepper flakes because I like a bit of a kick. If the dish requires a red sauce this is most likely what you are gonna get in my house. A doctored up version of Prego, Classico, or Barilla. I occasionally make these short cuts with baking but only when in a pinch and usually to substitute an item or enhance the recipe as opposed to it being the foundation like my spaghetti sauce.

This not doing school work thing is kinda nice. I have to admit though, not having something to procrastinate is just, well, weird. It starts all over again next week and it being a holiday weekend this should be fun. Eh, I've done this "put it off until I can't anymore" shift of gears before. Its perfectly normal since I am the Queen of Procrastination and last minute school work is the norm for me. What else do I procrastinate? Whatever I can!

Seeing my son this evening was much needed. I hadn't seen him in over a week and was missing him quite a bit. We only spent an hour together but I was happy to see he's happy. Really, truly happy. His smile was natural and laughter came easy. He's getting along well with the support of new friends. Learning independence and how to take care of himself. I'm proud of him and so pleased to see he's happy. The journey he's on is tough and will be a long one. But I am confident he will persevere.

Oh, have I mentioned lately how incredible-amazing-wonderful-handsome my darling Huckleberry is? Yeah. He is the BESTESTEST in the history of ever. Its quite magnificent how the butterflies still attack me just from his smile. And his kiss? Wow! Everything goes haywire! I have to admit. Even the littlest things he does for me mean so much. Making the bed or helping me make the bed, the little mementos that pop up now an again, holding the door open...the little things are all the difference. I carry these treasured moments with me always.

Contemplating the mortality of the crab...

I've been contemplating so many vastly different things these past few weeks I don't even know where to begin. I'm distracted and hyper-focused at the same time. I want to get off my duff and do something but then I'm content to just sit on my ass. School has closed for the term and  I need the break but I'm eager to get through this darn program.  I've managed to get two A's but the third class...I'll be happy to get a B.  Four more classes then I am done with school...maybe. There is this notion of starting on a doctorate. I fear I've become a professional student. But there's a plan and reason for all this. Partially due to a great white shark.

One thing that weighs on me, I feel guilty for enjoying "me" time in the evenings. Since my son left a month ago I've vacillated between missing having him around and enjoying the quiet solitude of being alone. I know he's happier now than he ever has been so the guilt is unwarranted. I guess it's just what mother's go through when their babies leave home for the first time. I dunno. I realize its the first and only time I'll go through this. He's adjusting much faster than me that's for sure. I am slowly adjusting to being alone. I realized I've always lived with someone my 43 years. I have always shared my home with either a parent, husband, or my child. I am now alone for the first time in my life and it's not what I expected. I'm bored sometimes. I'm lonely at other times. I talk to my self too much. Which isn't an issue because sometimes I need an expert opinion.

I did something to my ankle and after hobbling around on it for a time decided to seek medical advice which led to physical therapy. Which in turn led me to become resistant to doing the things I have been instructed to help my ankle get strong again though weakness wasn't the issue to begin with. It's actually improved a great deal and no longer gives me pain initially. But trying to walk for extended periods leaves me sore. Now my effing back is out. That is a rather boring tale. I lifted a heavy bad of dog kibble and it slipped from my hand. In my failed attempt to catch it before the chow sprayed all over my dining room floor I threw my back out. Lovely. I'm normally back to feeling fine after a day or two...not the case this time. And no, a chiro is not going to help. Saw so many in my life and I still have back issues. Needless to say I'm chillin' like a villain, feet up and laptop - well, on my lap.

It was time to renegotiate my TV package with the cable crooks. I now have so many channels I had no idea there was so much to watch! There are sports, honey badgers, and movies galore.  And what did I decide to stop the remote on? Star Trek: The Next Generation reruns. Oh no! The Enterprise was hijacked!

So in preparation for the vacation of my life I've been shopping for sneakers. Ok, y'all don't seem to understand. This has been the biggest shopping expedition I've ever undertaken. Let me tell you something. I wear open sandals and flip flops. I do not wear sneakers. I cannot stand my feet to be confined in shoes. I would rather be barefoot if it were socially acceptable. I can't even stand to wear socks for any length of time. Like under a minute. I'm not interested in buying the best made or most expensive. I want a pair of tennis shoes that are light weight, provide decent support, and don't make my feet look like the aircraft carriers they are. After trying on what seemed like a million pair I think I've found one I like enough to wear longer than a minute.

Maybe.

Eat, Drink, and be Fabulous!

I am not a guest on the Maury show!

The drama that has invaded my normally calm existence has evolved into this tentacle laden creature of stress producing proportion that my brain is dim and wit is slow. I had the opportunity to get away from the anxiety and life sucking stress for three blissful days at my favorite vacation destination to celebrate the 14th anniversary of my 29th birthday. This short break allowed me to focus on and enjoy another very important part of my life with out worry or stress. Or sadness.

This girl was is in desperate need of a big drunk. BIG! My first day in paradise began with mimosa. Then add beer...a few mojitos...then more beer....I lost track of how much I imbibed. I'll tell you though, I had an epic drunk filled with laughter and little balance. There was no breakfast. There was a lunch. There was an appetizer at some point that Huck swears were green conch fritters. I don't remember green. But I do remember mojitos. And a little ditty at Irish Kevin's. And the stumble back to our darling little bed and breakfast in the nice part of town. Up all 29 steps. He counted them to prepare for the night ahead.

The moments after the third mojito are blurred. I recall many parts but many more parts are fuzzy still. There was music and a fun couple joined us at our table...new friends! A bet. Winks across the table. I think. I did take our new friend's hat. We had jello shots. Those were green. That I remember. Then it was time to go. Let the games begin! I was good for a little bit. I think I had the drunk megaphone turned up to max volume because it seemed like I was talking to everyone at once. But I was only yelling at Huck. Not yelling, yelling but yeah I was a bit loud. I think. I do remember having to stop a time or two because I lost my balance. This made me laugh even more. Bent at my waist, hands on my knees, laughing. Then there was a problem with the keys to the gate. I swear we had to walk ALL the way around to the main gate to get in...but Huck rescued us. Thank goodness!

The night ended with a long hot shower. I sat in the shower at some point. I think. There was a feisty battle with a small bar of glycerin soap. More giggles. I forgot to bring in the shampoo so I used the soap to wash my hair too. I managed to brush my teeth and comb the rats nest from my hair before going to bed...where I found my handsome hunk of man sound asleep. The night ended with the spins. I woke up and took another shower. I dunno why. Just seemed like the thing to do. When I came out there was a basket of breakfast goodies waiting for me. Breakfast in bed! 

I was soon dressed and ready to start the day. Kind of. I still had a buzz left from the night before. I attempted to eat a bit of the croissant from the breakfast basket. It was horrid! The boiled eggs weren't any better. And nothing else seemed appetizing. I drank water. Lots of water. At some point I thought I would hurl. I was poised by the waste basket ready to toss what was left of the conch fritters from the night before but was able to keep things down. Time for breakfast at my favorite place ever...so down the 29 steps we went. And we walked what seemed like miles. I was hurting. My head was ok but omg I felt like Hell warmed over. We had to stop in Walgreens for pepto tablets and motrin. Breakfast, though usually delicious, was meh at best for me. 

It was hours before I felt human. The rest of the day was filled with quiet adoration for the one man in my life that proved he can handle me at my worst. Because y'all I was a hot mess!

I'm done with drinking for a while. I think.

It's been a week...one that requires a beer. Or three.

I always make my bed in the morning, I've done this since I was a teen. Mainly because the lady told me I had to but I liked crawling in to a made bed at the end of the day anyway. For some unknown reason I recently got away from that practice for a short while. I don't know the reason why. Laziness maybe. Maybe I just stopped caring about how wonderful it feels to get in to a made bed. I had a string of bad weeks during this unmade bed phase of my life so I started making my bed in the mornings again.  What a blessed difference!

I also always believed that how we begin our day is how our day proceeds and ends. If we start our day in chaos, an unmade bed for instance, it sets the tone for the rest of the day. Starting the day off with an organized state of mind correlates to a happier disposition and less negative energy.  Making my bed every morning sets my day up for positive, organized energy. I'm a minimalist as well. In some aspects. I have the bare minimum of kitchen gadgets and appliances. My living areas are tidy and everything has a place and there is a place for everything. Very little clutter. Now, part of the excess in my life (the clutter) is found in my bathroom. I can open my very own Bath & Body Works store. And mail. I'm not very good at checking my mail. And when I do check my mail I don't open anything. Well, rarely. Most of my mail can be found in various piles and stacks on multiple surfaces of the house. The dining room table. The desk. Coffee table. Kitchen bar. Pick it.

So I'v e had a week. Life has been an emotional challenge the past eight days. I've been sad, scared, anxious, sad, heartsick, glum, depressed, sad.... mostly sad. I've cried so much this past week and am near tears now just dwelling on the events surrounding this life upset. The events that bring this sadness is extremely personal and not something I will discuss openly. Not from shame but rather the need for some level of privacy. It's a very tough thing to speak about, a family matter, and not really a tale that's mine to tell though I'm immersed in the drama.

And no, it isn't Huck. He remains a constant wonderful reminder that love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  Love never fails. I know he's worried he wasn't there for me as much as he could have been the last half of the week but I felt mostly fine with his expected absence. I had one brief moment of crazy but I was able to redirect my feelings. Besides, I had Lulu to bring me back from the brink that time.  She was exactly what I needed that moment.

One thing I realize that has changed about me is I'm not the demanding, needy, pain in the ass I used to be. I still surprise myself by how much I've grown in this relationship. Huck doesn't have to be at my side every waking moment to tell me he loves me and cares for me. I know he does. He's amazing that way. I have no doubts about him. Not a one. Though someday, when we decide to cohabitate, his being right by me every waking moment will not be a terrible thing.  Not on your life!

Today's reminder...don't sweat the small stuff.

Naive...yeah, probably most days.

I received the strangest phone call from a toll free number today. I do not normally answer unidentified numbers, toll free or not, but took a call today out of curiosity. The same number had been phoning in for a couple days a few times a day but never left a message. I should have gone with my gut and continued to ignore it but curiosity got me and I still have a few lives left. The gentleman on the other end was polite and asked me to verify my name so I did. Then he recited my number and I immediately asked, "You dialed a different number?" I began to smell fish.

So he said a few things then asked me for my T-Mobile account number. Um, no you may not have my account number. I recently dumped AT&T after 16 years of loyal patronage. That's a story in itself. Anywho, this guy was trying to get my T-Mobile account number to complete MY request to transfer to Boost Mobile. Um, no again. The fish is getting smellier. He insisted I made the request. I insisted he was wrong. He insisted again he has my request. I insist he is wrong again. Then he asked if he could put me on hold. I said, "What the hell for?" He wanted to speak to his manager...again, what the hell for? I basically said he'd be wasting my time and his. I did not and will not transfer to Boost since I just transferred to T-Mobile and to please never call me again. Yes, I was that nice. He stammered. Here's another one of those jackholes that keep pushing because he doesn't understand, NO. I passed the gullible test with this adventure. The fish was definitely rotten.

Other times not so much...

Today I was the victim of office shenanigans. As I was yesterday. And the day before. Not Steve-O and Bam from Jackass shenanigans but still...my Achilles Heel-benefit of the doubt-always reigns.  Yes, I'm gullible because the trickster is the master bullshitter and I can never tell if I'm being played like a well tuned fiddle or if our office conversations are indeed true and trustworthy. Then, THEN, he drags others into his shenanigans. For a split second today I felt like a total asshole. Thankfully I was let off the hook. But what do I do to retaliate? I bake effing bad ass brownies.  I at least hope they came out bad ass. LOL!

Baking is my therapy. Some will argue it's a bottle of wine. others will claim is all that foo-foo beer I like. Nope, it's baking. I jokingly tell folks feeding them my baked delights is my sick and twisted way of getting everyone chubby so I look thinner. Not really an accurate reason why I bake. I am, by nature, a nurturer though. The lady trained me from a very early age how to cook, clean, raise kids, and take care of a man. That was the lady's only true desire, for me to meet a doctor or lawyer, give her grand babies, and have Tupperware parties or some shit. I can do all of it. But I choose not to do ALL of it.

I love being a mom, I love taking care of my man, I do love to cook and bake. Baking and cooking relaxes me. It's not about the final product. I'm kinda weird about my baking more than my cooking. I know I can bake. I know most stuff I bake is good, even great sometimes. The reason I bake is because its my mind's way of putting things in order. I need that order occasionally to get the rest of my thoughts back into proper place. I measure, mix, stir and sift. All the ingredients are placed into a dish or scooped onto a sheet and stuck in the oven for a predetermined amount of time. And the result? I am relaxed and the house smells amazing! Then I get to feed people because I can't keep all that sweet deliciousness in my house!

And that makes me feel joy...to see people devour the delectable devilish delightful treats I slaved over a hot oven to create.

Beer, beer, the magical fruit. Work rant. And come fly with me...

I like to drink beer. Not as much as I enjoy drinking wine of course. Beer is cool, refreshing, and sometimes tastes like manna. I picked up a 12 pack of Sam Adams summer variety the other day. I've had the regular old Boston lager, the summer lager, the Belgian session, and now the Blueberry Hill lager. No. I didn't partake all of them tonight. I only had two-well, I'm on my second now. Drinking on school nights is not a regular part of my schedule but I've faced some challenges this week so far. I'm feeling entitled to kick back and enjoy my brew. Or two. Beer has been brewed for it's intoxicating affect since 4000 years BC (or BCE for our non-Christian folks y'all) from a bread like pulp. The Germans later introduced hops. My favorite types of beer are either the unfiltered cloudy wheat beers that are normally sweet and fruity or the hoppy variety that is basically the complete opposite of a wheat beer. Hoppy beer, or ale, provide a bitter bite which is quite an acquired taste. I was of the Miller Lite and Coors Light school for many, many years. Why? It is reasonably priced and always available. By gosh it is refreshing on a hot summer day too. My point to this ramble...I like beer!

The work I do is normally satisfying and rewarding. I enjoy it most days but occasionally I speak with someone that really doesn't deserve my time or gray matter. How many ways can you tell someone no? No you cannot have your way. No you cannot make your own rules. No you cannot continue to be an ass for no other reason than to just be one. Once in a while I get that genius sucking asshole on the phone and feel the life being sucked out of me like the asthmatic girl in that horrible movie Nightmare on Elm Street. That's when uber bitch mode switches on. I hate having to use uber bitch. She comes out then I can't get rid of her. I become overly nice and condescending to the point you think I'm actually giving in to your stupid, unwarranted demands. Uh, no. You do what I tell you to do or you get nothing! LOL!

Rant over! It's killing my slight beer buzz...

I have to say, this year so far has been a challenge. I've had some minor fiscal ups and downs and nothing seems to come easy with regard to the needs of my son. Most days I'm good. Most. But c'mon? For example, how many people do you know had their identity stolen three years ago and NOW all of a sudden can't file a tax return electronically like a normal person? Sheesh! You coulda told me that three months ago IRS when you accepted my electronic return!! Anyway, there is one thing so far this year that has been steady and true and the most joyful experience of my life. The easiest part of my life has been my darling, handsome, incredibly awesome, Huck. This man can bring me back from the darkest places with his smile and the twinkle in his eyes! Seriously. Just a minute with him and that soothing sexy radio DJ voice changes my mood instantly. I bask! I'm basking now! I may pop. Everyday my heart skips a beat with his smile and touch. Everyday I feel butterflies. When he kisses me I fly over the moon. This man loves me and I can't be any luckier!

Last summer I had the most ridiculous hair disaster any girl should ever have to suffer through. I've since gotten a handle on the situation and now am opting for a shade very close to my natural color. I had been using the same shade for a while then switched. Opted for something a little lighter with a little reddish tone to it. Yeah, I know. After that crazy orange hair bit I was afraid but it was ok. I've got a HUGE couple of weekends coming up and needed to get my hair did again. Nothing is more mortifying to an aging 40-something year old woman than seeing white hairs sprout from her noggin. My son gave his input on a new shade and it's, well, dark. Just a slight level darker than my natural hair but dark. I've been called Joan Jett, Goth, Black Stallion, and WIB (I just learned what this meant a bit ago). Here's what I say to that...

Crazy brains increases pulse rates...

The challenges of life are testing me lately. Nothing bad of course. I have nothing to complain about. I have a nice home, drive a nice car, I make enough money to pay my bills and support my Bath & Body Works habit. Lately, it seems, my positive attitude and outlook is being pushed to the limit. I'm emotional and needy. On the verge of tears one minute and wanting to tear someone's head off the next. Somewhere in between I'm my normal jovial self. I had the woman talk with the lady the other day. I'm at the age she was when she neared the end of "the change." Is this what this is all about?  Freaking hormones?! Please tell me it gets better! I just rolled my eyes at myself... OMG! Stop whining!

I've always been of the mindset I don't need a man in my life. I am perfectly capable of doing it on my own. I've lived it. I know it. Yeah, Huck I know this sounds familiar. This is one of those eerie topics I never confirmed because it's eerie. I don't need a man. Been my relationship mantra since I was 24. But here's the thing. I want, yes WANT, a man in my life. Not just any man. A man that can handle me at my worst. A man that deserves me at my best. A man that gets me. If its "the change" I'm dealing with now..shoot...this will be my worse if I can't get a handle on it. Of course, I know the most wonderful man in the world can handle me. It's obvious why. He gets me! Proved that today...

Knowing the most incredible-amazing-fantastic man loves me is like taking a dose of anti-anxiety meds. He is my Xanax. Not a day, hour, minute, or second goes by that I don't want to bring to life my dreamiest fantasies of happily ever after. I find myself rearranging things in my life mentally to prepare for eventualities. I have ideas. Wonderful ideas. I've finally met the love of my life and I'm in a hurry to live our forever together. The more time I spend with Huck, the more time I want to spend with Huck. Well hello, crazy brains! I sound like a raving lunatic again. I swear, it's just thoughts, dreams, and fantasies right now.

You there, stop checking your pulse! LOL!

As always,
M