Diane's Addled Ramblings

Today of All Days...

2011-09-11T20:43:00.001-04:00

Innocent lives are lost every day, all over the world, to terrorism, war, genocide -- hate.

Don't just remember them or shed tears for them.

It's not enough.

Honor them by actively seeking peace; by expressing love and kindness without judgment; by helping others, whenever you can, wherever you can; by doing good.

Leave this world better than you found it.

Hellooooooo... Is Anybody Out There...?

2011-08-28T15:59:00.002-04:00

Well, hello there, Blogland! I've missed you! I have no idea if anyone still pops by, not that I'd blame you for tossing the scraps of my addled ramblings to the wind! I didn't intend to be gone for so long. I intended to be back to blogging regularly after the first of the year. But you know what they say about good intentions...

In any case, I'm back. I've not written diddly-squat for months and months (except Facebook posts and grocery lists) and I need, need, NEED to get some words out of my head and down on paper, er, screen, if only because it's getting crowded in there and the voices need some breathing room.

All that being said, I've not a clue what to write about today. See? Some things never change! I guess I could tell you where I've been, eh? Work. I've been to work! I had to get a full time job back in January because I have this compulsive need to eat. Actually, I'm still (always) working on the 'compulsive' part of it but the 'need to eat' part just won't go away. And? My kid has the same problem! She also needs clothes and stuff. Pfffttt. What's that about?! The job I had (and still have, when they decide to send me any work) wasn't paying enough (or, you know, anything) for quite a while and my ex, who'd been out of work for a long time, wasn't paying enough (or, you know, anything) for quite a while and the stress of wondering 'is this the week we have to live on ramen noodles and tap water?' was just too much. So I found a job!

Actually, it sort of fell into my lap (as the whole 'finding a job' thing wasn't working out too well)... a business-owner friend of mine needed someone and though the job wasn't anything I thought I could/would ever do, I decided it was time to step out of my comfort zone and try something new. It's a sales-oriented position, which would have, prior to the whole zero-bank account thing, given me hives, but it's not so bad. It is, however, incredibly boring, draining, and exhaustive. At first, I would come home and sleep. And sleep. And sleep. This went on for a couple of months. I'd never had a job where I had to sit in the same place, doing the same thing, over and over and over and over again, for hours and hours. It's hard. But I like the people I work with (my office-mate is wonderful!) and just recently I've been given some new responsibilities, which allow me to learn some new stuff, use my brain, and switch between tasks regularly. So I've decided not to step out in front of the bus that goes past the office every day at 3:00. I know, whew, right?

Other than that, I've spent my time coaching my little sinkers, preparing for my 3rd Susan G. Komen 3-Day Event (coming up in September!), feeding the little old guy I met on Christmas Eve (my 'Red Light' post), hanging out with friends, and being Ryan's mom. That last bit, as always, has been the best part of Life. She's growing up like crazy and though I'm not really thrilled about it, I have to admit, she's growing up pretty good. You'll hear more about her in the coming posts (duh).

Anyhoo, that's all for now. I'll have to mosey around and see who's still out there, writing and reading. I've missed everyone -- bloggers, commenters, lurkers :). You guys were the best part of my blogging experience. Truly. 'Til next time, take care everyone!

Diane... XOXO

Word Power...

2011-01-12T15:43:00.007-05:00

There are a lot of words being tossed around these days – words about words and how much power they possess. Our political culture is rife with angry, volatile, hateful words. We are surrounded by them… they assault our ears and our eyes, our hearts and our minds… every day. And there is much debate going on about whether or not those angry words contributed to the violence we saw expressed by a mentally disturbed man in Arizona last weekend.

I don’t have the answer to that question. None of us does. No one but the person who committed the act knows what affected him and what didn’t.

But here is what I do know: Words ARE powerful.

I saw a comment on a friend’s Facebook page yesterday… it was similar to comments I’ve seen all over the Internet in the past few days. The commenter said, “I don’t believe, in any way, that anything anyone says can make a person commit a crime.”

In my opinion, anyone who truly believes that knows nothing about human nature at all. Nothing.

Some time ago, I did a blog post about why I write. It began like this:

“I write because I believe in the infinite and unassailable power of words – to connect, to affect, to express, to entertain, to disturb, to discover, to educate, to enlighten, to excite, to incite, to soothe, to solve, to illuminate, to inspire. “

“…the infinite and unassailable power of words…”

Words ARE powerful. They have elected leaders… they have begun wars and inspired peace… they have caused and ended family feuds that lasted decades… they have created and soothed great pain.

Words ARE powerful. Anyone who thinks they cannot incite violent behavior – or behavior of any sort – is blind and foolish.

Ask any boy who’s gotten into a fistfight on the playground because he was called ‘chicken.’

Ask any guy who’s been punched in the mouth for insulting another guy’s girlfriend.

Ask any 17-year-old who’s used the words ‘I love you’ to get his girlfriend to consent to sex.

Ask any young girl who’s heard the words, ‘you’re fat’ or ‘you’re ugly.’

Ask any child whose mother said, ‘You ruined my life. I wish you were never born.’

Ask any woman who’s believed the words, ‘I’m sorry’ after being abused by her partner.

Ask anyone who’s heard, ‘I forgive you,’ when they believed they were unforgivable.

Ask anyone who’s been told, ‘I just don’t love you anymore.’

Ask anyone who’s heard, ‘It’s YOUR fault,’ when it wasn’t.

Ask any parent who chooses his/her words carefully, so as not to deflate a little one’s esteem.

Ask anyone who’s ever been affected by a book, a poem, a letter, a speech, a song, a comment.

Words ARE powerful.

We constantly quote and re-use words from the greatest speeches and speakers in our history. Leaders have used words since the beginning of time to rally, to call to action, and to inspire positive, progressive movement. How many times have you heard, ‘I have a dream…’ or ‘Ask not what your country can do for you…’? And for every tragedy we face as a people, it is the words spoken immediately in the aftermath which bring us together.

So how can we doubt, even for a second, that words can affect us negatively, too? How can we think that words will have no effect on the behavior of the people around us?

Words ARE powerful.

I believe that everyone is responsible for his own actions. The man who shot all those people in Arizona last Saturday is responsible for himself, to the degree that his mental condition allows. We are each responsible for ourselves – for our actions and our words. And I truly believe that holds true, to an even greater extent, for the people leading us – those in office; those who would like to be in office; and those who speak publicly about them. They KNOW their words are important… they KNOW their words are powerful… it’s precisely WHY they choose the words they do – to inspire belief, emotion, and action.

Free speech is part of the foundation of our nation, our government, and our society. I wouldn’t want it any other way. But free speech isn’t really free… it comes with a price. And I believe that price is responsibility. I believe strongly that our leaders and media need to be responsible with their words… they need to understand that simply because they CAN say something, it doesn’t mean they SHOULD. They need to understand that the images their words convey WILL affect people – both positively and negatively – so they need to choose those images and words very carefully. They need to be responsible for THEIR words and actions, just as we do. And when they’re not? They need to stand up and say, “I could have done better.” It’s the very least we should be able to expect.

Because words ARE powerful. Never doubt it. Not for a second.

Color Your World Happy!

2011-01-07T10:30:00.004-05:00

Because it's Friday and because I don't want stress or worry or cold to cloud it all up and because I've been really wordy all week and because these pictures just make me happy...

Happy Friday, everyone!! XO

No Anonymous Comments, Please...

2011-01-06T14:09:00.001-05:00

I can’t read the news online anymore. Well, that’s not entirely true. I can’t read news articles which allow for reader comments. I can’t read any articles, even the silly blurbs about entertainers (many of whom I don’t know from Adam), which allow for reader comments. Because readers? Are mean. They are nasty. They are SO angry. They have opinions about every damned thing (often woefully un/misinformed opinions, too). They do not have a firm grasp on the rules of spelling and grammar (at all). And they are almost always – perhaps worst of all – ANONYMOUS.

I always tell Ryan, “Never say anything behind someone’s back that you wouldn’t be willing and able to defend to his face.” I’m not foolish enough to believe that an 11-year-old isn’t going to gossip and say mean things sometimes, but I want her to understand that it is not acceptable to be cruel or ugly just because the other person won’t know about it. And no, I haven’t always practiced what I preach. I have the Triple-S gene (Snarky/Snide/Sarcastic). And it’s not recessive. And sometimes it completely overtakes my Civility gene. But lately? After spending some time puttering around the Internet and reading what people say to each other under the banner of ANONYMITY? I’m really working hard to live by example.

I understand that we’re living in a volatile political, economic, social, and environmental climate. I realize that things are happening every day, all over the world, that are upsetting. I’m upset. I’m angry. I’m disgusted and frightened and, often, horrified. And I’m quite willing to share my views about those upsetting, disgusting, horrifying things if asked (and sometimes if not asked). I understand that some people will agree with my views. Some people won’t. And while I might be screaming, “You stupid f#%@ing moron!” at those people in my head, I’m going to try really hard NOT to scream it out loud or in writing – even if I can write in a place where I don’t have to give my name. (I also work really hard to spell everything correctly and use proper grammar. Just sayin’.) I don’t want to say anything to which I’m not willing to attach my name (or my face).

Just this afternoon, I was reading an article about something political. I don’t even remember what it was and, honestly, the topic of the article was hardly even relevant. The comments (and there were a LOT of them) took on – with the very FIRST one – an ‘us against them’ tone, and nearly every commenter followed form. The personal attacks, name-calling, profanity, insults, and bad spelling and grammar were absolutely appalling. And almost every comment was ANONYMOUS. I wanted to take the whole lot of commenters and put them in a room together. I wondered how many of them would act so superior and so utterly nasty in person. I wondered how many would call each other vulgar names when standing face-to-face. Not many, I’d wager. ANONYMITY masks cowardice.

And it’s not just with news articles either. I have done my fair share of online dating over the past couple of years. It’s a great way to meet people… and an awful way to meet people. You are fairly ANONYMOUS, in that you don’t give your name or contact information, but you do (if you want) post a photo of yourself so potential suitors know you’re not a troll (unless you ARE a troll… then you’re screwed). Anyway, I think it takes some guts to put yourself out there and to approach people online… maybe not as many guts as it would to do it in person, true, but it’s still hard. Even if you’re ANONYMOUS, you still have feelings and rejection – or being ignored – still hurts like hell. As such, I think every email or ‘wink’ deserves a response, even if you know immediately you will not be going out with that person. I look at it this way – if you were to come up to me in a bar and say hello, I wouldn’t turn my back on you. I’d say hello back because it’s the polite thing to do. Most people would do that, right? But the number of people who will simply ignore those emails is astounding. I find it incredibly rude. But there is that safety – that ANONYMITY. It allows for bad manners and abject cruelty.

A couple of months ago, I came across a Facebook page dedicated to a young girl who recently died. Her friends set it up to remember her – a common occurrence on FB. I looked at it and was touched by the messages people were posting. Then it got hacked and a group of ANONYMOUS posters took it over. The things they said about this girl and the photos they posted were cruel and vulgar and reprehensible. I could only imagine what her friends and family felt when they saw them. And I knew that if those hackers hadn’t been able to hide behind their online ANONYMITY, it wouldn’t have happened.

People say all the time that the world has changed. I usually reply that it really hasn’t – that we’re just more aware of everything that’s happening at any given point in time because we’re bombarded by information 24/7. And I do believe that. But I’ve also come to realize that the world HAS changed, because WE have changed. We now have the ability, like we’ve never had before, to live ANONYMOUSLY. It makes us more daring. It makes us careless. We don’t have to have our ducks in a row or our facts straight. We don’t have to worry about things like integrity or truth or character or compassion. We don’t have to look someone in the eye when we insult him or hurt his feelings. We can say whatever we think, whenever we want, without repercussions.

Or so it seems.

But there ARE repercussions. I’m living proof. This post is proof. The way I feel every time I read comments after an online article is proof. And I’m not the only one feeling this way. I know I’m not. So many of us are worried and frustrated and those feelings are helped along and made worse by the ANONYMOUS encounters we observe every day. It’s bad.

So I vow not to live ANONYMOUSLY. And I will raise my child to live her life face-to-face, willing and able to put her name behind her words and deeds. And I hope enough people feel the way I do… if so, we can change the world again… this time for the better.

Oh, Behave!

2011-01-05T12:01:00.001-05:00

I believe in Karma. I think she’s pretty cool. She also scares me a little. ‘Cause I’ve been on the receiving end of ‘what goes around, comes around’ after I haven’t behaved particularly well, that’s why. So Karma helps to keep me on the straight and narrow. Well… OK… she at least helps to keep me from treating people like crap (plus, I’m just a nice person. Mostly).

Sometimes Karma takes her sweet time at coming back ‘round. It can be frustrating, especially for the impatient among us, but it’s usually worth the wait…

There’s this lady who takes her dog to the same park Sundance and I trek around every morning. I’ve seen her several times a week for a couple of years. She NEVER cleans up her dog’s poo. NEVER. It makes me insane. ‘Cause I’m a dog poop Nazi, that’s why. I would never think of letting my dog go and not picking it up! But this woman will let her dog go anywhere -- even on the ball fields or near the playground where the kids run around… she’ll WATCH him poop and then just walk away, like she didn’t see it! Once, I yelled across the park to her, “Do you need a poop bag? I have extras!” She IGNORED me! Grrrr. Once I left a note under her windshield wiper, along with a bag (don’t worry, I was nice. Mostly). When she sees me now, she turns and walks in the other direction (chicken), but still, she doesn’t pick up the poo.

So, a couple of weeks ago, Sundance and I were heading back to the car after doing the whole park trail and, lo and behold, who did I see, leaning up against the wall of the bathroom, scraping a great big pile of dog poo off her shoe with a stick? Yup! I laughed. Out loud. She heard me, looked up, and glared angrily, still scraping poo. I laughed even harder.

Oh, yeah, that was totally worth the wait! Thank you, Karma!

And sometimes? Sometimes Karma’s just in an immediate gratification sort of mood. Like this morning…

I was driving home from the park when this little old lady in a big old Buick cut in front of the guy in front of me, just as we were pulling up to a stop light. She simply wasn’t looking (or couldn’t see) where she was going. He had to hit his brakes, which caused me to hit mine… but all was well (aside from Sundance winding up in the front seat)… no resulting fender-bender. Whew.

Well, you’d have thought Miss Daisy caused the guy to lose the Grand Prix. He laid on the horn for a full 30 seconds… he was gesturing wildly, flipping her the finger. It was really ridiculous. I mean, dude, you get cut off sometimes. We’ve all had it happen… hell, we’ve probably all done it at some time or another. You get over it and thank your lucky stars you don’t have to repair your fender (or worse). But no, Mario Andretti was having nothing of the whole ‘get over it’ thing. He pulled to the right, up beside the little old lady (who was now directly in front of me and seemed quite oblivious to his gesture-filled rant, as she was probably deaf as well as blind). He rolled his window down, laid on the horn again, and spewed insults and profanity. I sat there watching him, my jaw hanging open, incredulous. When the light changed, Miss Daisy drove ahead and Mario matched her pace (which was pretty slow), ranting and blowing his horn all the while… until…

… he ran right into the car in front of him.

I very nearly peed in my pants.

Miss Daisy drove on, clueless. I blew my horn at Mario Andretti and waved (and laughed!) as I passed by. I did feel bad for the guy he hit, though, and found myself hoping he’d done something for which Karma was coming back ‘round at him, too.

Wait. Do you think she’ll come back at ME for laughing at Mario Andretti (and Poo Lady)? Nah. She has a sense of humor, too, don’t you think?

Yeah. She does. I’m sure of it.

Karma. She’s pretty fabulous. But you’d be well-advised to be just a little askeerd of her. Oh, yeah. And behave yourselves out there, people. Behave yourselves…

1000 Things (but not all at once!)...

2011-01-04T14:35:00.004-05:00

I read something recently about how happiness is not, as many people think, this big THING we attain and then hold onto. It’s actually lots of little things, strewn throughout our days and weeks and months and years, and if we just train ourselves to really see and feel and appreciate them as they happen, happiness just IS. It’s a part of us – part of who we are. That’s cool, no?

So today begins my year-long quest to see and feel and appreciate… and list… 1000 Things to Be Happy About in 2011! I’m going to try not to duplicate any but, if after 8 months and 682 things, something pops up twice (or, you know, 3 or 4 times), don’t yell at me, ‘k? You’ll just know it must make me REALLY happy!

1. Reading blogs (and I PROMISE I’ll get back ‘round to everyone’s very, very soon!)

2. Dates stuffed with almonds (fruit-dates, not men-dates… they’re yummy! Though men-dates stuffed with almonds might be yummy, too, now that I think of it)

3. Climbing back into my warm bed after an early-morning shower for an extra 20 minutes (just don’t fall back to sleep or your hair will NOT make you happy… trust me on this one)

4. Finding money when I clean out a purse I haven’t used in a while (but not so much pennies or nickels… dimes and quarters make me smile… and dollars actually make me giggle!)

5. My electric kettle

6. Getting a good idea for a blog post or a Facebook status update

7. The smell of brownies baking (or cookies… or bread… or cake… OK, the smell of pretty much any carbohydrate baking)

8. That Sarah Palin is only stinking up cable and not public office (!)

9. Getting a new magazine in the mail

10. The look of pure joy on my dog’s face when I get home (I’m telling you, he SMILES!)

11. A funny email from a friend

12. Falling into bed tired

13. Gerard Butler (with whom I’d like to fall into bed not-so-tired… but just looking at his photo is nice, too)

14. Breakfast with a good friend (especially when it runs into lunch!)

15. A long walk in the park with my dog

16. My clean car (it’s the happiest 8 minutes in my year!)

17. Laughing out loud at a television program (seen ‘Hot in Cleveland’ yet? Very chuckle-worthy!)

18. That my 11-year-old still wants to be tucked in (she frowns at my lullabies, though… dunno why)

19. My hot pink, knitted, fleece-lined boot-slippers with the pom-poms (why, yes, they DO look quite silly – it’s part of the appeal)

20. Flannel pajama pants and old sweatshirts (attractive? No. Happy-inducing? Yes!)

To be continued... (a lot!)

So, what makes YOU happy?

Red Light...

2011-01-03T15:12:00.003-05:00

On Christmas Eve, driving to Target to pick up some last minute odds and ends, I was feeling a bit down. Although I’d gotten Ryan some nice things for Christmas – and the one thing she’d asked for , it seemed like a very small pile of gifts. This has been a rough year financially for me, and though Ryan’s been really understanding about not getting to do a lot of the things we’ve done in the past, it’s bothered me. A lot. As such, I’ve been feeling very ‘woe is me’ of late.

While I was stopped at a red light, lost in ‘woe is me,’ an old man hobbled across the street in front of my car, clearly struggling with a heavy bag. As he tried to step over a mound of snow at the curb, he stumbled and nearly fell. The panicked look on his face made my heart lurch. He had to put the bag down to steady himself but the ground was slippery and he nearly fell again. I watched him pick the bag up with his left hand, as there was something wrong with his right arm, but it was too heavy and it kept pulling him off balance (balance, which is, I suspect, precarious on his best days).

As soon as the light turned green, I drove quickly around the block and onto the street down which he was, by then, slowly making his way. I pulled up to the curb and got out of my car, reaching him just as he stopped to rest again.

“Can I help you with your bag? It looks awfully heavy.”

He looked at me with rheumy eyes and nodded. The bag did have some heft to it and though I said I could also carry the lighter ones he held with his bad arm, he shook his head, as he could manage those. I said I’d be happy to carry the heavy one home for him and asked where he lived. He pointed to the end of the street, some 100 yards away, and said his house was around the corner, just a little way down. He’d already walked quite a long way from the store and though I could have had his bags to his house in less than a minute myself, I thought it seemed a long way for him still to go. I suggested we drive.

I’ve never given a stranger a ride and though there was a twinge of ‘Diane, are you sure this is wise?’ running through my head, the bigger part of me felt he was harmless and I’d be safe. Indeed, it took him several minutes just to get into the car, as his old bones didn’t seem to want to bend. But once in, he seemed relieved to sit. I apologized for how messy my car was.

As he sat beside me, the strong odor of urine invaded the space. I saw how dirty he was and how few teeth he had and how his right arm was only partly there. And I noticed prescriptions from the pharmacy in one of the small bags he held on his lap, and a bag of oranges in the other.

“My bag is so heavy because I had to get my cats food. They didn’t have any. I have three little cats and they keep me company.” He looked straight ahead as he spoke, refusing to look at me. I smiled at him anyway.

“Your bag IS heavy and it’s cold today, so let’s get you home to your cats!”

We were at his house in seconds. It was the most dilapidated one on the street, the front yard and porch strewn with trash and broken furniture. He asked me to just drop his bags on the porch, by the front door, which I did, as he made his labored way out of my car.

“Thank you so much. And Merry Christmas!”

I patted his arm. “You’re so welcome! It was my pleasure. And Merry Christmas to you, too!”

“I’ll be spending it with my cats. They keep me company,” he said again.

The lump in my throat nearly prevented me from replying. “I know they’re glad they have you.” It was lame, I know, but I didn’t have any words. I got back in my car as he made his way up his porch steps, and once I was ‘round the corner, I rolled the windows down to air the car out.

And I cried all the way to Target.

While I was there, I picked up a dozen cans of cat food and put them in a gift bag emblazoned with a silly little snowman. Errands complete and back at home, I left the bag in the car, figuring I’d drop it off later. In the house, putting my odds and ends away, I opened the fridge and looked at the ridiculous amount of food, just waiting to be set out for my family, coming over on Christmas Day. And I thought about that old man, at home, alone with his cats.

The next day, after Ryan’s presents were opened, before everyone arrived, I loaded up plates and containers with ham, salad, sliced fruit, vegetables, little quiches and fruit tarts, some sweet treats, and a loaf of French bread – enough food for two or three days – and packed them all up in a big bag. I brought the food and the snowman-bag full of cat food to the old man’s house. He didn’t answer the door when I knocked, though I got the feeling he knew I was on the porch. So I left it all for him and when I went back around later to check, it had all been taken in. I felt a little better. Since then, I’ve dropped off homemade soup and chicken stew, crusty bread and fruit… and with every drop-off, six or ten cans of cat food. He never answers the door when I knock, but I don’t mind.

Ryan told me the other day that this was her best Christmas ever… that she’d gotten absolutely everything she’d wanted. It made me feel good. Then she said, “I’m so glad that old man met you on Christmas Eve. He needed you.” That made me feel even better.

And you know what? He might have needed me, it’s true. But I think maybe I needed him even more.

I Resolve...

2011-01-02T18:50:00.002-05:00

I didn't make any New Year's resolutions. But if I had? They would have looked something like this...

Life IS short. It's too short. I'm reminded of it too often. Or maybe not often enough. My brother's best friend died yesterday. On New Year's Day. He'd been sick for a while and was ready to go, though his wife and little girl weren't ready to let him go. Their time together had been too short. But it was all they got. All they had. All they'll ever have.

I want my time to be full of things I love... of things I create... of people who mean the world to me and to whom I mean the world...

Life. It's short. Make it count.

Welcome 2011!

2011-01-01T20:40:00.002-05:00

Happy New Year, my bloggy peeps! I don't know about you all, but I was quite happy to usher out 2010 and welcome 2011 with open arms. 2010 was a rough year for me. Rough. Like cheese grater rough. Like the North Sea in January rough. And I let it get to me. I let it drag me down... and under... and though I've managed to bob to the surface just long enough to take a breath, I'm getting really tired of fighting the undertow.

So 2011 is going to be different. I'm building a boat. Sailing anyone?

I didn't do any resolutions for the year (because, you know, I never keep them) but I have set some goals. And to make them more manageable, I've broken them down into 'to do' lists. On my list for January is to blog more (and write more in general). Hold me to it, 'K?

So, happy, happy New Year! I hope it holds happiness, health, prosperity, and peace for us all! XOXO

Endings... and Beginnings...

2010-12-16T13:30:00.005-05:00

My neighbor told me the other day that The Farmer's Almanac said we weren't going to get any snow this winter. I wasn't unhappy about that after last winter, when we were ass-deep for months. But? The Almanac lied. It's snowing in Pigsknuckle today! I do like the first snow, I have to admit. Then I want it to be gone and not return 'til next winter. But I guess we have to take what we get, don't we?

It's interesting, really, that the first snow has arrived just a few days before the Winter Solstice -- the day we welcome back the sun and look for the days to get longer. The Solstice is my favorite part of the holiday season -- it's my New Year and my new beginning. Ryan and I have a little ritual, which we'll do as normal on Tuesday, to celebrate the shortest day of the year. We light a fire in the fire pit outside and bundle up around it, with steaming mugs of hot chocolate. In the pit we burn 3 lists, which include things we want to send up to the Universe...

First is a list of things for which we're grateful. I like it to be good and long, full of the big important things and the little important things that make us glad to be here on this planet, even when Life isn't going as well as we'd like.

Second is a list of things we'd like to let go of -- fears and hurts and grudges. They do nothing but hold us back but letting them go isn't always easy. Writing them down and putting them out there helps.

Last is a list of things we want for other people -- specific things for people we know and general things for those we don't. I like to include good things for people I might not even like because I believe that what you put out there comes back to you.

What about you? Does the end of the year signify a new beginning for you? Do you do anything special to acknowledge it?

Fat Bastard...

2010-12-06T12:10:00.006-05:00

And no, I don't mean Santa Claus. This time.

So, you guys know I have a pretty terrific kid, right? There are moments when I'd like to trade her in for a puppy, but most days? She's pretty fabulous...

That's my girl!

In some ways, she's very much like me, which is understandable, as we spend a LOT of time together. I have full custody of her and though her father has liberal visitation, he chooses not to take advantage of it. He hasn't seen her in nearly a year. I'd like to say this is unusual, but it's not. Since we split up six years ago, I can count on both hands the number of times he's seen her. This once-a-year thing has been the norm for the past three years. He makes all sorts of excuses for his absence, but that's what they are -- excuses.

Luckily, Ryan was never used to him being there. Even when we were married, he was working away from home and only (barely) there on the weekends. So when we split up, not seeing him was just par for the course. She didn't really miss him. And when she did, I'd make excuses for him, on top of his excuses. I stopped doing that, though, when she got older and wiser, as I try not to ever lie to her. But I work hard to make sure she understands that his absence is not about her. That her father's lack of attention is about his deficiencies; that he loves her more than he loves anyone... he's simply not capable of love or expressing love the way most people are. And that is not her fault.

She's been willing to forgive him a lot. I do a pretty good job of being Mom and Dad, so not seeing him isn't the end of the world. And for a long time, he still called her a few times a week to check in, and that seemed to be enough for her.

But things changed this past year. He did a few things that were pretty unforgivable... things even I couldn't spin. He let her down. He broke her heart. And then he pretty much abandoned her. Since her birthday at the beginning of August, with the exception of a one-line email on the first day of school, he has made no attempt to contact her.

I look at her and see the amazing person she is growing into and I simply cannot imagine how he doesn't want to know her; how he can go 12 months without seeing her; how he doesn't have any interest in her life. I don't get it.

She doesn't get it either. But even though it would be understandable if she acted out or got depressed or put me through Hell because of the heartache he has caused, she doesn't do any of that. As I say, she's like me in some ways and, thankfully, she inherited my sense of humor. I love this, except when she uses it against me (which is more often than I care to note here)... then it's not quite so funny. But it serves her well, in general. She chooses to laugh at this awful situation with her dad rather than wallow in it. She has dubbed her father, "The Donor." It makes me chuckle, as that's how I think of him (though she didn't get the name from me!). She makes a lot of jokes at his expense now and though I don't (usually) allow her to be disrespectful or ugly, I let her get out how she feels, grateful she's able to deal with her pain in some way and wind up laughing about it.

A couple of weeks ago, we were in the grocery store, picking up a bottle of wine to take to a friend's house for dinner. I was looking for my favorite Merlot when Ryan started to laugh. She nudged me and pointed to a bottle of wine called, 'Fat Bastard'. Then she said, "Look, Mom, they named a bottle of wine after Daddy!"

I tried not to laugh. I tried to look stern. I failed. Miserably. Then I hugged her, kissed her head, and said, "I'm so glad I'm the parent you like!"

Don't Rock the Boat, Baby...

2010-12-03T12:26:00.003-05:00

This past week has been one of the most stressful I've experienced in a while. Truly. Financial issues (where "issues" = "crises of colossal proportions") have been on the front burner. My head was nearly inside the oven (had the oven been gas and not electric, it likely would have been!). A couple of big bills due, a few weeks before Christmas (whoo hoo), and everyone who was supposed to be paying me wasn't. From Saturday to Wednesday, I was sick to my stomach, trying to sort out an issue with the person I thought was going to be my new, wonderful, spectacular boss. As a friend of mine used to say, wrong again, buffalo-breath.

I did get paid. Eventually. After a lot of run-around, chasing down, and lying (I did the chasing down, not the running me around or lying... he did that). It was frustrating (where "frustrating" = "ready-to-go-postal"). I wanted to scream and kick someone in the shins. Or, you know, somewhere. But I couldn't say or do what I wanted because I needed the money and needed the work and I thought I had to salvage the relationship... I had to be professional and understanding... I couldn't rock the boat, baby.

Wrong again, buffalo-breath.

After the last lie was told, before the money was in my account, I had a bit of an epiphany. This little voice in my head said, "Diane, you are better than this. You deserve better than this. And you do NOT need this guy. You can get your own work."

And for the first time in a very long time? I actually heard that voice. And? I even believed it. Mostly. I didn't shoo it away or tell it to shut up and that it didn't know what it was talking about.

And that? Is huge.

So I set about getting a few things done -- things I've been putting off for reasons I don't even want to think about. And I got my business Facebook page up. And then I got my website up and running. And then I started networking and promoting my business and myself. And within 24 hours, I had a job. Not a big job, but a job. And I got the promise of more work to come.

I'm askeerd. I don't know what the future holds. But it can't be less or more difficult that what the past has held, that's for damned sure.

Oh? And I rocked the boat. In a (mostly) professional way, of course. I told that guy what I thought of the way he'd behaved. And? It felt pretty good!

Pitchers...

2010-11-22T11:01:00.005-05:00

I spent a good portion of Saturday taking pictures of Ryan and my niece, Elizabeth (the blond munchkin, who is actually OLDER than Ryan), for my mom's Christmas present. The girls actually cooperated. Mostly. Here are a few for you to peruse...

I think this one made the short list...

This is how they spent their entire 3rd and 4th grade years...

Luckily, they get along better now. As long as they don't spend too much time together...

How pretty is my girl?

Just Around the Corner...

2010-11-17T18:19:00.003-05:00

So, I got some disappointing news today. A job I really wanted... a job at which I think I would have been great... a job that seemed really perfect for me in oh, so many ways... a job I really needed... a job I really wanted... went to someone else. The person who delivered the news was sweet... "We all loved you so much..." Aw. But they didn't love me quite enough. It sucks when you're not quite enough, doesn't it? And I feel that way more often than I like to think about.

Anyway, as I say, disappointing news. This has been a year of disappointing news... a year of setbacks... a year of hoping for that light at the end of the tunnel to get just a wee bit brighter... a year of hoping against hope. Disappointing. Frustrating. And more-than-a-smidge demoralizing.

Don't get me wrong, I have much to be grateful for (detailed in the post below). And I am grateful! Really! I truly believe that a positive, grateful attitude will take you so much farther in life than a negative, ungrateful one. But sometimes? Well, sometimes you just need to catch a break... to feel like the Universe is on your side for once. It makes it much easier to hang on to that positive attitude, you know?

But I? Have the most wonderful people in my life. No fewer than five people told me the very same thing today... they all said, "This just means there's something better waiting for you... something just around the corner..."

And? They said it with such conviction. They're all pretty smart folk, too, so listening to them - believing them - makes some sense.

So I'm going to try.

Something good - something better - is coming. It's just around the corner...

Right?

Giving Thanx...

2010-11-09T10:04:00.004-05:00

I would like to introduce you, my bloggy buds, to one of my favorite websites ever... THXTHXTHX... the author, Leah, writes a thank you note every day (on a Post-It note) to whomever or whatever she's feeling most grateful that day. Most of her notes make me laugh; some of them make me think; some make me cry. They all, however, remind me that I need to be more diligent about expressing gratitude on a regular basis for the many blessings in my life, something I sometimes forget to do (you forget, too, sometimes, right? C'mon, say you do... don't make me feel like a heel here!).

Since November 1, several of my Facebook friends have been writing in their status updates each day, one thing for which they're grateful. I guess November naturally gives way to the attitude of gratitude, as it's the month which includes Thanksgiving and precedes the time/energy/wallet-suck that is Christmas. I mean, The Season of Joy and Giving. That's totally what I meant. Shut up. I know I've expressed here before how I get a little aggravated about the way the whole world changes around the holidays and everyone talks about peace and love and taking care care of everyone else, and then, come January, everyone goes back to life as normal. I'm a cynic, I know. But I'm an optimistic cynic (there is TOO such a thing. Damn it).

And? I'm a grateful cynic.

For me, this has been a year of less; of making do; of good-lord-when-are-things-going-to-turn-around? But I know it's been hard for many, many people and even though things are rough for me right now, I am one seriously lucky human being. So I'm going to list for you, my wonderful bloggy peeps, the things for which I'm most grateful (in no particular order)...

1. My Girl ~ She is beyond remarkable, that child of mine. This has been a rough year for her, too, as she's had to face some realities and devastating disappointments about her dad that no child should have to face. But she has risen above it all, with maturity, grace, and unbelievable humor. I love that girl. And I'm so thankful to be her mother.

2. My Friends ~ Oh. My. Word. I have the most wonderful friends on the planet! They are my chosen family. They listen (and they hear, even when I don't have the words); they give of themselves (beyond generously); they make me laugh like crazy (seriously, like crazy... like, soda-out-the-nose-snorty-wheezy-can't-breathe kind of crazy); they kick my butt when I need it (but never when I'm down); they tell me I'm fabulous (even when I'm not); they love me when I'm most unlovable. I simply could not go on without them.

3. My Fuzzy Boy ~ How I love that dog. Not an hour passes in any given day without him making me smile. He's my own personal comedian, therapist, and space heater.

4. My Family ~ They're nuts. But I'm grateful for them (even if it's just because against them, I look sane).

5. Work ~ It's been a bit more sporadic than I'd like of late, but it's still coming in and that's a lot better than a lot of people have right now.

6. Words ~ I love 'em. I need 'em. I use 'em (even though I haven't been using 'em here much lately!). I can't imagine a life in which I couldn't write to express myself and I am grateful every day for the opportunity to do so, whether it's through my work, my journal, my blog, my classes, emails to my friends, or my Facebook page.

7. Chocolate ~ Do I really need to explain this one? No, I didn't think so.

8. Pigsknuckle ~ It's taken a while but I've finally found a nice little niche here. Not only is it a beautiful little city (especially in the fall), it's a place full of some pretty wonderful people. It's the place where my girl is happy and settled and loving life. It's where I'm going to be for a while. And I'm grateful for that.

9. My 'Virtual' World ~ I think it's funny that 'virtual' means 'simulated' or not really real, because you'd be hard-pressed to convince me that this place - Blogland - isn't as real as the coffee shop on the corner. It's as warm and as welcoming and full of so many people with whom I'd give my right arm to have a cup of tea and a chat. I'm so grateful for you all. I have been since my first comment and I will be long after my blog has faded into oblivion.

10. Remission ~ My Aunt Jean, one of my favorite people on the planet, is in it, after a long, scary battle with an ugly cancer. I'm so grateful.

11. The Susan G. Komen 3-Day ~ It's one of the big things that takes me out of my own small world and makes me work to contribute to something far bigger than myself and far more important than my own issues. I'll walk 'til I can't walk anymore and I'll be grateful every year for every step of every one of those 60 miles.

12. My Computer ~ Because my friends live in it. Duh. And because it brings me work I wouldn't otherwise get and interesting information and news from around the world that would kill lots of trees if I had to read about them in hard copy.

13. Lots of Other Stuff ~ Like books and bookstores that are open late on a Friday night and book fairs where you can buy so many words for so few dollars... like state parks that have cheap campsites and beautiful lakes and hiking trails (even the ones that go UP and down and UP and down and UP and down)... like the $1 RedBox movie rental kiosk at the grocery story... like hot tea after a chilly walk... like homemade soup and crusty bread and avocados and fresh mozzarella cheese and bagels and cream cheese... like fresh new notebooks, just waiting to be filled up with thoughts and ideas and stories... like rainy days and quiet snowstorms and bright blue skies and warm sunshine... like swimming laps and coaching little sinkers and just floating... like a great song on the radio that lifts your spirits or makes you cry... like missing my dad like crazy because the empty place in my heart reminds me how big his influence was in my life...

So many things...

What about you? What do you 'give thanx' for every day?

I'm In Love...

2010-10-25T11:23:00.006-04:00

With October! In fact, if October was a boy, I'd marry him. And here are a few reasons why...

Of course, with my luck in romance, if October was a boy, he'd probably only want to make out with me under the bleachers at the football game and then not call me. Sigh.

Is It Getting Warm In Here?

2010-09-28T15:02:00.007-04:00

Not long ago, a male friend referred to me as ‘hot.’ I eyeballed him suspiciously, waiting for the punch line. When it didn’t come, I chuckled, sputtered, and then snorted (which, I’m certain, is not ‘hot’). In case you haven’t sorted it out, ‘hot’ is not a word I have ever attached to myself. Ever. He assured me that I’m selling myself short (as I am wont to do) but I still scoffed (and suggested he have his eyes checked).

But it got me to thinking. (Smell the smoke?)

Obviously, ‘hot’ is like beauty, in that it’s in the eye of the beholder. I know this, though I do think there must be some universal ‘hot’ standards, just as there are universal beauty standards. Right? I mean, I'm betting there are few people on the planet who would look at Halle Berry and say, “Ew. She’s ugly.” Hello. She’s Halle Berry. She’s gorgeous. Now, I can see some people saying, “Well, yeah, I think she’s pretty, but she’s not that fabulous.” I think those people would be nuts, but I’ll give a little… eye… beholder… all that…

And I know lots of women who think Brad Pitt is drop-dead-gorgeous. Me? Meh. Same with Tom Cruise. In fact, not only is he not gorgeous, he’s downright creepy. And I have a guy friend who thinks Drew Barrymore is beautiful. Really? I don’t see it.

Eye… beholder… all that…

But that's beauty. What about ‘hot’? Are there universal standards? I really wasn’t sure. So I asked my Facebook friends (and I should note here that I do realize asking my FB peeps does not a Universal Standards study make, but I got some interesting answers nonetheless).

I found out there are several levels of ‘hot’ (which I think I pretty much already knew but it was made very clear by the replies I got).

The first level is the initial ‘Wow!’ That’s when you see a photo of someone or pass them on the street or see them in a bar and think, “Damn! Dude is HOT!” For me, it’s this guy...

I can’t even remember his name. But really? Who cares? Dude is HOT! This level of ‘hot’ is superficial. Completely superficial. The person is not even real at this level. In fact, you almost don’t even want him to open his mouth because you know the whole effect could be ruined (like the first time I saw Jean Claude Van Damme in an interview. Hot… then so not).

The first level is purely physical. Purely sexual. It’s about ‘Oh yeah, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.’ It’s about abs and butts and boobs and whatever other physical attribute floats your boat. It’s the first date with the gorgeous guy you have nothing in common with but want to lick up one side and down the other anyway. It’s, as a friend said, the younger, well-endowed woman gyrating in front of him in a club. It’s lusty. It’s good. But it’s not real. It has no substance. It's more about imagination than the ability to actually touch.

The second level is still superficial, but slightly less so. The person is real but you still don’t really know him. For me, it’s Gerard Butler.

Oh my. Gerard is hot. He’s hot on a physical level, certainly, but I also like the person I believe him to be (a belief garnered from watching him in television interviews, natch…you didn’t think I’d actually met him, did you?). He seems like a great guy… funny, smart, charming, self-deprecating. He might not be any of those things but he comes across that way, so he remains hot (and will until he’s arrested or photographed kicking a puppy, when he will be dumped into the Tom Cruise ‘not hot’ category).

This level of 'hot' is the beautiful girl who works in your building and smiles at you and makes small talk on the elevator. It’s the gorgeous, friendly Alex O’Loughlin look-alike who waits on you at the coffee shop and gives you goosebumps when he touches your hand as he gives you your change. It’s lusty, too, but it has to do with more than just the physical. It’s still superficial and not really real, but it’s a little more real than the guy in the photo whose name I can’t remember because there is another component -- the personality -- involved. Get it?

The next level of 'hot' is real because it’s about real people. It’s the level I was hoping to hear about from my peeps. It’s the level that moves past the superficial (though it can certainly contain superficial elements) to the heart of what really turns us on. It’s where I think my friend was looking when he labeled me ‘hot.’

Now, I should note here that a few of my friends disagree with labeling this level of ‘hot,’ well, ‘hot.’ They said ‘hot’ should be reserved only for the superficial, first glance, walk-into-a-pole, oh-my-god-I-would-do-her-in-a-second reaction (note I said "her," as I believe all the people who suggested the third level of ‘hot’ was not ‘hot’ were guys). Anyway, they said this level is about attraction and getting-to-know someone, etc.

I get that. And I don’t necessarily disagree…

But I asked what people found ‘hot’ and more people (men and women equally) responded with things that fall into this category than the superficial ones. I’m sure that has to do with the fact that most of my FB friends are around my age and by this age we are focused on the whole package and not just the superficial. I surely hope so, anyway, or I’m screwed on the dating front!

So, I determined that this level of ‘hot’ is about the real person… the internal as well as the external (which included dimples and strong jaw lines, sparkly eyes and real smiles)… it’s about having a sense of humor and being open-minded and intelligent. It’s about the level of caring and kindness the person expresses. It has a lot to do with confidence and attitude, feeling sexy and being comfortable in one’s own skin. It’s about the look or the smile, the touch or the suggestive comment from someone you genuinely like (and might love) that makes your stomach do those floopy things. It’s about being a good parent and having respect for one’s partner and expressing love in generous ways. It’s listening and providing a shoulder to cry on and going out at midnight for NyQuil when the flu hits (now, that is hot!). It’s not, I’m happy to say, about 6-pack abs and perfect thighs. Whew!

And? I like it. And I agree. It’s good. It’s real. It’s ‘hot.’

Or, as my nearly 70-year-old Aunt Jean says, it might just be about the ass.

Who am I to argue?

Must Work on That...

2010-09-08T09:55:00.006-04:00

I was talking to a friend yesterday about something I'm struggling with (have struggled with/continue to struggle with/will, seemingly, forever struggle with) and I said, "If I could change just one thing about myself, it would be that." Then I amended the statement, as I think there are a bunch of things I could/should change about myself... but that thing? That thing was/is/will forever be at the top of the list. Then I got to thinking about it. What ARE those things I could/should change to make my life simpler/happier/better?

And I settled on three things...

1) My mad procrastination skillz...

I've always been a procrastinator. Always. When I was in the 4th grade, I remember sitting on my bed, surrounded by 9 or 10 volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica, rushing through essay after essay - one for each the former presidents of the United States. As usual, I'd left it to the last minute (i.e. Sunday night, when it was due on Monday). I was in a panic. Certain I wasn't going to finish, I remember making a deal with the Universe: "If I finish this tonight, I will never, EVER leave anything to the last minute again!"

Pffftttt.

I finished (thank heavens there had been far fewer presidents than today or I wouldn't have finished!)... but I so did not keep my end that bargain with the cosmos. Procrastination affects me nearly daily in negative ways (mainly upping my stress levels). But still? I do it. Why? I'm not sure. I wish I knew. Must work on that.

2) My ability to over-think Every. Damned. Thing...

Lordy, lordy! This has to be one of my most annoying traits. There are some things I don't over-analyze... some things I just DO... like parenting. I have a great deal of confidence in my ability to mother my child well. Don't get me wrong, I put thought into it, but I don't fret over it. I don't play out every possible scenario in my head until I'm seeing zebras and unicorns instead of ponies. I just do it and trust that it will work out and if I've made a mistake? We'll get through it.

Hmmm... I just realized something... I wrote, "I have a great deal of confidence in my ability to mother my child well." Confidence. Confidence is at the root of my over-thinking? Or LACK of confidence? It is, isn't it? Damn. That's not good, is it? Must work on that. A lot.

3) My inability to ask for help when I need it...

This one might be even more frustrating for the people who love me than it is for me, I think. When I'm struggling, they want to help. They know I need help. But I can't ask for it. It kills me. Truly. My head wants to implode. I feel like a failure. But if one of my friends needed help? Never - not in a million years - would the word 'failure' come to mind. Never. So why can't I ease up on myself and just ask? Why do I feel the need to suffer alone? I don't know. Must work on that. Really. Seriously. A lot.

So, those are the things I'd change. Well, three of the things, anyway. Those are the things I actually have the power to change, if I'm so inclined. Am I so inclined? I don't know. Must work on that...

What three things would YOU change? About you, not me! Lord, I have enough complexes... I don't need a list of things you'd change about me, too!

Advice for Friday...

2010-09-03T09:47:00.008-04:00

... and, you know, all the other days, too. From Neil Gaiman and me. OK, so mostly from Mr. Gaiman, since he wrote it and all... let's be a bit less nit-picky, shall we?

Happy Friday, my bloggy loves! Have a wonderful weekend! XO

Somewhere In Between...

2010-09-02T09:48:00.004-04:00

The other day, while mooching around Facebook, I read an article about teens and 'tweens and a guy commented, "I wish the word 'tween could be excised from our vocabularies!" My guess? This guy is NOT the parent of a 'tween. It's a word that describes the 9 - 13-year-old set pretty perfectly. They're not little kids. They're not teenagers. They're stuck in this uncomfortable, awkward, 'in between' stage of life, where they're trying hard to fit in and find their way and be independent... but they still need their mommies and daddies for, oh, so many things (and not just money).

I am the mother of such a creature. I've dreaded these years, truth be told. My own 'tween years were horrid, really. Middle school was a nightmare. I was uncomfortable in my own skin, which was stretched over too-big bones (specifically, a too-big nose that caused me more grief than I care to recall, much of which was brought on by yours truly), and covering a quivering mass of insecurities and worry about every friggin' thing in my line of sight. For example, I remember convincing myself I had scoliosis and was going to have to wear one of those awful back braces for my entire middle school and high school career. I used to stand in front of my mirror, looking for the curve in my spine that would spell the demise of my (non-existent) social life, trying to figure out how I could keep it from my parents and still not wind up looking like Quasimodo. As I say, nightmare.

Ryan, however, doesn't seem to have the same bad dreams I had. Oh, don't get me wrong, she has her own list of insecurities, but, so far anyway, they don't seem to be debilitating. Her reaction to the realization that she'd inherited her nose from me? "Well, you grew into yours, so I'm sure I'll grow into mine. Eventually." Heh. She's got this amazing sense of self that I never had... hell, I'm not sure I have it yet! And she's absolutely blossoming in middle school. She's working out that not everything will come easily to her (math) and that she's going to have to work harder at some things than others (math) but that she really can do it (math) if she keeps a positive attitude. She's finding new things that interest her and she's surrounded herself with a group of friends who seem to be, in general, supportive and encouraging, not back-stabbing and mean, as girls this age can often be. She's taking on new responsibilities at home and at school and she's managing everything without stress or whining (mostly). She handles disappointments (lots of them to do with her father) with dignity and grace (mostly).

She's growing up.

I'm happy for her and I'm so very proud of her but I'm still a little scared of what's to come. Because along with all that good stuff, I know there will be days (as there are now and have been since she turned 3) when I want to kick her butt into tomorrow. It's only been in the past few weeks that I seem to be able to embarrass her without even trying (I've been able to do it intentionally for a long time now!). I've worked out that if her friends are around, I walk a very thin line... pretty much everything I say or do could cause me to fall on the wrong side of the line and subject me to eye-rolling, disgusted looks, and exasperated whines of "Mo-om!"

Sigh.

But I'll take that stuff. Because at night, she still wants me to tuck her in. She still wants me to cuddle with her and just talk for a few minutes before she falls asleep. It won't always be that way, I know. But for now, she's a 'tween. And all is as it should be.

My girl at her first cross country meet yesterday. She? Rocks.

Hello September!

2010-09-01T10:53:00.008-04:00

Ringing in the month of September has always felt like sort of like ringing in the New Year to me. It's always signaled the start of school (close enough, anyway), the start of fall (close enough, anyway), the start of a new 'summer's over so let's get on with real life' attitude... you know what I mean?

So, I was having lunch with a friend yesterday and we got to talking about blogging (because I think he should start one) and I was telling him about all of you. As I was going on and on and on, I realized how much I miss this place. I decided my worry over people in Pigsknuckle reading my stuff is just silly... this is ME. For better or worse. No pretense. And I'm the same in writing as I am in person (well, I'm skinnier in writing). So love me or leave me (but please don't leave me, 'k? I have abandonment issues...).

And that? Is the start of my new 'summer's over so let's get on with real life' attitude. I like it. And it should hold until my 'winter's set in so let's hibernate under the covers and eat chocolate until the spring thaw' attitude sets in.

Anyway, as I say, summer's over. It was a good one overall. Swimming went, well, swimmingly! Coaching was loads of fun (though time-consuming!) and Ryan did remarkably well this season. She racked up a bunch of first-place ribbons all season and placed in the top 8 in every event she swam for the big all-team 'Champs' meet. I was so proud of her!

The other big event for me was the Booby Walk (also known as the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Event). I traveled to Chicago this year, where my friend Anne and I (and 2,000 other people) walked 60 miles and raised, collectively, $4.2 million for breast cancer research! This year's walk was as phenomenal as last year's -- even better, really, as I had an amazing (albeit crazy... and deaf, too) friend to walk with. Anne's already signed on (and signed up!) to walk in DC with me in 2011. Whoo hoo! I can't wait! My blisters will have fully healed by then. I hope. Here are a couple of photos from the walk...

(Me)
(Anne was disappointed it wasn't the Playboy Walk but happy she still got her bunny ears!)
(I walk because I have boobies. Heh.)
(At the end of 3 days and 60 miles!)

So, now it's so long to summer and onward to fall and all the ups and downs it will bring (hopefully more ups than downs, though)! And I expect blogging will, once again, be one of the ups!! XOXO

The 3-Day Is Around the Corner...

2010-07-19T13:10:00.002-04:00

Hello, my lovely bloggy peeps! Summer, she is almost over for me, even though we're only half-way through July. I'm not complaining either. It's been crazy-busy and I've had a bunch of not-so-pleasant things going on personally of late that have made me want to just crawl in a hole and wait for fall. But I can't do that yet...

In less than 3 weeks, I'm hopping on a train and heading out to Chicago to walk in my second Susan G. Komen 3-Day Event! It's a 60-mile walk over a 3-day period to raise funds and awareness for breast cancer research. I'm damned excited about it, too, as last year's walk in DC was life changing (and I want and need me some more of that!) and this year I get to walk with one of my favorite people on the planet! And I'm ready for 60 miles, too! But... I've spent so much time walking this summer (50+ miles a week!) to get ready that I've let my fundraising efforts sort of fall by the wayside.

Uh oh.

As you guys might know, all walkers have to raise $2,300 or pay the balance themselves! Yikes! Remember those 'not-so-pleasant personal things' going on? Well, one of them is (as always) lack of funds, so paying the balance due myself really isn't an option! As such, I'm down on my creaky knees, batting my eyelashes, giving the puppy-dog pout, hoping to generate some pity (and money!).

If you can donate, I hope you will. Just click on this link and it'll take you directly to my donation page on the Susan G. Komen site. The process is easy, with a credit or debit card, and my friends all over the world were able to donate last year.

No donation is too small (or too big!) and every single one is so very much appreciated! It's such an important cause and it affects SO many people, either directly or indirectly. But if you can't donate, I totally understand. I do hope you'll pass on the information, though, so that anyone else who might be willing to can do so. Thank you all so much!!!

Much love! Diane... XOXO

Is It Over Yet?

2010-07-09T13:35:00.003-04:00

Lordy, it's hot our there... stinkin' hot. In fact, it's been stinkin' hot for way too much of this summer. I'm ready for it to be over... the heatwave... and maybe even the summer. Anyone else?

I wonder how much of my life I spend wishing away? I try not to. Truly. I'm trying to spend more time really feeling present... in the moment... and a whole lot of other new-age-y, touchy-feely crap... er, I mean terms. Yeah, that's what I meant.

Truth is? I'm pooped. I'm hot and pooped. I completely over-extended myself this summer. I've been walking about 50 miles a week (in the heat) to get ready for the Booby Walk in August (for which I'm so far behind in my fund raising effort, it's not even funny, but I still can't wait for it to get here, as I'll get to spend several days with one of my favorite people on the planet). Swim coaching, while loads of fun, is taking up more time than I expected. My mom's been in the hospital, and that's required running around like an idiot and a general disruption to the already-taxed routine. I'm trying to work and prepare for classes and I'm not being terribly effective at anything. And I simply can't work out a week for Ryan's and my annual camping vacation (though we've taken a short jaunt here and there). There's too much going on. Too many obligations. Too much heat. Too much just being tired.

And right about now, you, my wonderful bloggy friends (if I still have any wonderful bloggy friends, after being AWOL for-friggin'-ever!), are thinking, "Christ on a pogo stick! Quit yer bitchin', Diane! Weren't you the one complaining about how long and cold the winter was? Now you're whinging about how long and hot the summer is! Are you never happy?!"

It would seem I'm not, wouldn't it? Sigh. I am, though. You know that, right? There are good things happening. Ryan's ROCKING at the pool and her bulletin board is loaded with 1st place ribbons from this season. Those 50 miles a week I'm walking? Aren't even difficult anymore. I'll be ready for 60 miles in 3 days next month, no doubt! My work situation, which has been abysmal, is about to change for the better and it's likely I'll wind up with more work than I can handle very soon (no worries... you'll hear me whinging about that when it happens!).

So maybe I'm just hot. And not in that cool-everyone-wants-to-date-me way. In that damn-even-my-hair-is-sweating way.

So maybe if it just cools down, the world will be fabulous again. Right?

One can hope. 'Til then? I'm going to get some ice cream.

Life's Like an Hourglass, Glued to the Table...

2010-06-08T15:07:00.004-04:00

No one can find the rewind button, girl...

I love that song. And I so wish there was a rewind button. Yesterday, an old friend of mine died unexpectedly. I hadn't seen her in years, though I'd been in touch recently with her husband, also an old friend (actually, he was my friend first). We used to work together when we were in our 20's; we were at each others' weddings; we hung out most weekends for several years. She was sweet and funny and kind. She was loving and much loved - by her friends, her family, and most of all, her husband and son (who is Ryan's age). I'm so sad for all of them. And I'm stunned that another person my age has died.

Over the weekend, I found out that a girl I went to high school with died of cancer. Just a couple of months ago, a guy from my class died of a heart attack, not long after running a road race (one of many over the previous year). And some of you might remember my friend Mark's death last fall, as I posted about him a couple of times.

For the last year, my Aunt Jean, one of my favorite people on the planet, has battled an awful cancer that nearly got the best of her... but it didn't. I'm happy to say she's in remission, for which I'm unbelievably grateful.

All these events have made me realize how easy it is to get caught up in our day-to-day existence... how easy it is to simply forget just how fragile and fleeting Life really is.

But it is fragile. It is fleeting. We're not here for long, even though days and weeks and years (especially those when we're dealing with the darker parts of Life) can sometimes seem interminable.

In light of this realization, I posted some advice on my Facebook page this morning. I don't always take my own advice but I'm really going to try this time...

~ Find your passions and pursue them.
~ Pick your causes and give your time and energy - give yourself - to them.
~ The people you love? Love them extraordinarily well.
~ The people you don't? Let them go.
~ The people you love but who don't love you back? Let them go, too.
~ Remember that you deserve the best from Life and those in your life.
~ Remember that you owe Life, others, and yourself the very best of you.
~ Be kind to yourself. Forgive yourself for your shortcomings.
~ Forgive others. Don't hold on to hurt and anger and grudges and regrets.
~ Take care of yourself, body and spirit, and be here for as long as possible - whole, healthy, and happy as possible!

Life is like an hourglass, glued to the table, and no one can find the rewind button...

Live so you don't need one, my friends.

Much, much love, Diane... XOXO

Ouch...

2010-06-02T21:45:00.003-04:00

So, one of the reasons I’ve been gone from Blogland is that I met someone… someone pretty terrific… someone with whom I clicked and with whom there was chemistry and about whom I wanted to know more and more and more.

And?

It was mutual (much to my shock and surprise)! And after a few weeks, I stopped looking for red flags… I relaxed a bit… I stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And then?

The other shoe dropped. And it all fell apart.

And now?

My heart hurts.

He’s sorry and I appreciate that. I do. And I wish I didn’t still like him… but I do. But I don’t want to be his friend because then I’ll just wish it was different and wonder why it wasn’t me he chose. And I’ve been down that road before and it’s just too hard.

And I feel like I’m back in middle school.

This sucks.

Sending Some Sunshine...

2010-05-20T21:51:00.004-04:00

I had a post all ready for tonight (as promised!) but I decided this was more important...

I've met the most wonderful people here in Blogland (yes, I mean you!) and one of the most wonderful is Debbie, over at Single Mom in a Complicated World. Debbie is one of the sweetest, most giving human beings I've ever had the privilege of knowing. She's become one of my favorite Facebook friends as well and she's someone I know beyond all doubt I'll meet in person one day soon.

Debbie's going through a really difficult time right now... so I wanted to send her a little sunshine. I hope you'll all think good thoughts for her, too... she is so very deserving of them.

Keep your face turned toward the sun, Deb! Things will look brighter soon... I just know it! XOXOX

Holy Moly!

2010-05-19T10:41:00.003-04:00

It's been so long since I've set foot in the addled world of my (written) ramblings (I had to clarify that, as I spend every day in the addled world of my normal-type ramblings), I forgot my bloggy password! It took me three tries to get in!

Hello, my lovely bloggy buds! I've missed you! And given the sweetest, most wonderful emails I've been receiving of late, some of you have missed me, too. Thank you for that. I always tell people that the best part of blogging is the people I've 'met'... how we're really a community that cares about each other, even though most of us have never come to face-to-face. In the last week or so, I've gotten emails from people all around the globe, asking if I'm OK; if I'm ever coming back to Blogland; telling me I'm missed. My lazy, non-writing little heart was overwhelmed. That's the stuff hope is made of, you know? Our world might seem as though it's falling apart around us, but as long as there are people out there who care about each other - who care about people they've never met - I think we'll all be OK.

So... I've been gone a while... certainly longer than I anticipated. It wasn't really intentional, as I figured I'd be back within a week or two. But life just kind of picked up and I had to go with the flow, 'cause that's how I roll... er, float. Whatever. Things have been mostly good, too, so I'm not complaining! I've been crazy busy, which isn't likely to change anytime soon, as swim team, running camp, writing camp, the booby walk, the half-marathon, several camping trips, a new job (fingers crossed), and an actual social life(!) are on the agenda for the next 3 months.

One thing I've not been doing much of, however, is writing. So I'm meaning to change that. Remember I said that. And hold me to it, OK?

I hope you're all well and wonderful and writing your little hearts out! I can't wait to see what you've been up to. I'll catch up with you soon... and I'll be back... tomorrow. Really. I'm not lying this time. Honest. Do you believe me? You do, don't you? Stop shaking your head! I will! I promise. Pinky-swear! Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. You know, that's a pretty horrible thing to say, isn't it? "Hope to die"?! "Stick a needle in my eye"?! Yuck. Just so you know, even if I don't post tomorrow (which I WILL), I'm totally not hoping to die OR sticking a needle in my eye. Just sayin'. But I'll be back. Tomorrow. Really. Honest.

Truly.

Seriously.

I will.

Believe me yet?

As If You Didn't Know...

2010-04-06T09:29:00.003-04:00

I'm taking a bit of a break from blogging. Actually I'm taking a break from Facebook, too, and pretty much all electronic mediums (except email for work and basic communication). Life (with an upper case L) has been kicking my butt around lately and I think I need to spend a little time focusing on a few things, keeping distractions to a minimum. I know you guys understand... we've all been there. Life (with an upper case L) sometimes likes to show us who's boss... and I think I just got demoted.

Anyway, I'll be back (I always come back, don't I?), hopefully full of interesting things to write about. Well, things that won't put you to sleep, anyway. Take care of you and don't forget me! XOXO

Bloggy Block...

2010-03-29T16:09:00.005-04:00

Howdy, my bloggy loves! I feel as though I've been gone forever! Thanks to everyone who's emailed to check up/in... I'm fine... alive and well (well, still kicking, anyway). Life has just gotten in the way of blogging, which seems to be happening more now than ever, since I started little writing adventure. I've also been experiencing a bit of a block, though I have been writing (prompted by my classes, only one of which is still going on)... but much of it has been stuff I'm just not ready to share yet. I figured out recently that there's something else affecting my blogging frequency...

You know I fell into the Facebook trap a while ago, right? I've really enjoyed it (much more than I expected I would) and I've gotten in touch with loads of old friends and met a few people I didn't know prior (it's a lot like blogging in that way). I posted a link to my blog on my FB page, though, and as a result, I started to notice a lot more traffic from Pigsknuckle passing through Blogland than I've ever seen before. There used to be, maybe, two people from here who read my stuff... now there are more. Several more. And it's sort of weird to know that people who know me (or knew me once), and have these very preconceived notions of who I am, are now able to see me in this way... in this very personal way. It's not a bad thing, certainly, but I think it's caused me to sort of 'seize' when it comes to posting. I don't want to censor myself but I find myself, for the first time, really, wondering what people will think of my words and attitudes and feelings and snark. Does that makes sense? I think it's so easy to be open here in Blogland, especially with people who don't know you in person (or when the people who do know you in person and read your blog know you SO well, like my friends Mel and Todd, for example... no one knows me better, so nothing I write here is a big surprise to them).

I'm working on moving past it, though, and coming up with some posts. And I will make it around to everyone else over the next few days. I've missed you guys! XOXO

Go, Little Activist, Go!

2010-03-16T21:05:00.002-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, when I picked my 10-year-old up at school after her student government meeting, she was angry and close to tears. When I asked her what was wrong, she declared, "I need permission to use the word 'friggin'!" I had to contain my giggle, as she was clearly upset, and I asked, again, what was wrong. She told me that, due to proposed state budget cuts, the middle school and high school athletic programs might be eliminated. Since she was planning (and excited) to run cross country and track next year (as a 5th grader, she's not eligible yet), this was devastating to hear. I told her that if she was really upset about it, she needed to go down to the next school board meeting and let them know. Within five minutes, she decided that was exactly what she was going to do.

Over the past two weeks, we've talked quite a bit about her speech. I explained that she needed to be clear about why eliminating the sports programs would be a bad idea and that she also needed to make sure she was willing to give something back -- not just ask for 'something for nothing' (even though the programs are warranted on their own merit). She told me the other day that she and her friend Abigail had discussed the speech and come up with some good points. I told her to write it all out and then I'd look at it and we could make changes if they were necessary.

She did.

And?

I was blown away. If I hadn't sat and watched her type it all out, I would have assumed it was written by someone much older than 10. She was clear and articulate and she made her points succinctly. She even added at the end that she understood there was not enough money in the budget for everything schools need, but that she and her friends and their parents would be willing to raise funds and find volunteers to keep the programs going. There were a couple of small areas that lacked a certain diplomacy but she's 10... diplomacy isn't something a lot of adults can employ, so her lack wasn't too surprising. I made suggestions to tweak those areas and she did it. She did it well.

So, tonight was the school board meeting. We got there a little early and sat near the front. When the time came for the 8-member board (including the school Superintendent) to hear from the general public, Ryan was first up. She announced herself, her age, her school, and her topic, and then she launched into her speech. Though I knew she was nervous, no one else could tell. She was confident, clear, and full of conviction. After she finished, the next woman up (to speak about the arts program) said she didn't want to follow Ryan. Everyone laughed. One of the school board members told my baby she was "eloquent and very brave." And she was!

It turns out that the athletic programs aren't being cut (yay!). The decision had been made before Ryan spoke (although the Superintendent joked that they just made the decision after Ryan's speech), but I assured her that she had made an impression nonetheless, and that her words might have an impact down the road, when the budget issue comes up again. And regardless, it's important to be heard when you feel strongly about something, especially something so worthwhile. I told her that the school board and the community needs to know that students care and that they are willing to work within established protocols to get things done.

And?

She was as proud of herself as I was.

And?

She might be on television tonight and in the newspaper tomorrow. I sure do hope so!

It's Not Easy Being Green...

2010-03-15T10:07:00.005-04:00

I've been a horrible blogger of late (and I probably deserve to have lost the FOUR! followers who went bye-bye in the past week... man, that stings, eh?). I wish I could tell you why I've not been able to write anything lately. But I can't. I'm just feeling sort of stagnant. Static. Stuck. Sucky. I did have a jolt of electricity applied directly to the creative centers of my brain yesterday, though...

I went to see Wicked! As you might remember, I got tickets to see it as Ryan's big Christmas gift this year. I saw the show in London a few years ago (with Idina Menzel!) and Ryan's been dying to see it ever since. My intention was actually to take her to NY to see it on Broadway (but you know what they say about the road to Hell being paved with good intentions, right?). So when I found out it was going to be playing in Richmond, a mere two hours from Pigsknuckle, I jumped on it and got us tickets for yesterday's matinee.

The show was as spectacular as I remembered! And Ryan absolutely loved it! She was blown away by everything -- the sets, the costumes, the story, the music, the performances (and specifically the singing!). She said it was better than the Broadway version of The Lion King, which is saying something, really, as that show was amazing!

If you haven't read Gregory Maguire's book, Wicked, from which the stage production was adapted, it's the story of how the Glinda the Good Witch and the Wicked Witch of the West (of Wizard of Oz fame, natch) became enemies... sort of. Gregory Maguire has this fabulous way of turning tried and true stories and fairy tales on their ears, giving his audience a completely different perspective, especially on the subjects of 'evil' and 'good.' And let's just say that you leave Wicked with a whole new take the color green! If you haven't read the book, do! It's wonderful. And if you haven't seen the show but you have the opportunity to do so, do that, too! I guarantee you won't be disappointed!

Hopefully I can tap into the creative energy I witnessed yesterday and manage to write something more in depth than a grocery list in the next few days. One can hope, right?

Whew!

2010-03-05T11:50:00.002-05:00

I think I fixed my blog! With absolutely NO help from Blogger, I might add. I was this close to heading over to Wordpress and starting over, and though I wasn't looking forward to making such a big change, it wasn't wholly unappealing either. That tells me I need to freshen things a bit 'round the Ramblings, so I'm going to spend some time this weekend doing a little housecleaning and fixing all the little formatting issues that resulted from my mostly futile handyman attempts. Thanks to everyone who made suggestions about what to check... I appreciated the help!

I've missed you guys loads, so I'll be back 'round this weekend! XOXO

Blogger... Double Grrrrr!!!!

2010-03-04T22:01:00.001-05:00

Now it seems that people on browsers other than Mozilla Firefox can see my POSTS, but nothing else (including my blog title, profile, etc). And? All my fonts have changed. I'm BEYOND aggravated with all this. Wordpress anyone?

OK, never mind. It seems my posts STILL can't be seen. I give up.

Blogger... Grrrrrr!!!

2010-03-03T19:38:00.003-05:00

My blog is, apparently, pretty much blank to anyone using a browser other than Mozilla Firefox. I have no idea why and though I've tried, I can't seem to get any support from Blogger (there is no information regarding a resolution in their Help lists or forum and though they suggest contacting them, they give no way to actually DO it!). If anyone who CAN read this has any suggestions or knows of a way to reach Blogger for help, please let me know. Any help would be much appreciated! Thanks!

45/45 Challenge... Moving Along...

2010-03-01T09:34:00.003-05:00

OK, first, I've been told that there are some issues with my blog and some people can only see my 'Quotes of the Week'. Dunno what's up. Dunno how to fix it. Dunno how to contact Blogger to tell them there's an issue. If anyone who can see my blog knows what to do, please let me know! Thanks!!

So... I'm moving along with my 45/45 Challenge list! Sort of. My cardio-kickboxing class was scheduled for Saturday and I showed up for it, as did 4 other people and the instructor. Unfortunately, the woman who owns the studio didn't show up to unlock the door, so the class was a bust. But it's been rescheduled for Wednesday night, so I'll be going then. If I survive, I'll blog about it on Thursday morning!

I did, however, take my first ever yoga class this weekend! And I loved it! I went with my friend Emmy (who is turning 30 this week and is all about trying new things, too). It was the Kundalini form of yoga, which seems to be, from what I can gather, a combination of a bunch of different kinds of yoga. Some of it was hard but mostly it was just totally cool and relaxing. And the instructor (loved her!) was wonderful at creating this amazing environment that just felt... I don't know... safe. That might sound like a strange word but it does apply. I had the same feeling throughout the class that I get in the writing workshops I attend with my mentor and coach, Maureen. It's the same feeling I try to create in the writing classes I do myself. During the whole session last night, I kept hearing this little voice in my head saying, "This is where you're supposed to be." As many of you know, I've been trying to figure out where I'm supposed to be for a long time. It was an interesting, unexpected, and pleasant thing to hear, especially coming from my own psyche.

After the class, I had this overwhelming urge to write, which rarely happens (though I wish it did, much more often). Though I was going to swim laps while Ryan was at practice last night, I sat down in the lobby of the pool facility instead, and cranked out six pages of pretty good, pretty illuminating stuff. I was really, really happy. And if that's the result of yoga? I'll go every damned day! Seriously, yesterday's won't be my last class (unlike Zumba, which I've decided not to do again). I'm going to see about going next week, too.

So, I'm two weeks in and that's my second challenge complete! I'm moving along nicely, I'd say...

Hope your weekend was wonderful, my bloggy loves, and something enlightening or illuminating happened to you, too!

Show of Hands, Please...

2010-02-28T10:27:00.004-05:00

I want to know how many of you thought (or think) Pigsknuckle is the real, honest-to-gosh name of my hometown...? Come on, tell the truth!

And then? After you 'fess up?

I want you to forgive me for giggling...

Heh heh... ;)

45/45 Challenge... 1 Down... 44 To Go!!

2010-02-23T12:29:00.002-05:00

I have conquered Zumba! OK... well, not so much conquered it, as was conquered by it. But there is nothing in my 45/45 Challenge rulebook that says I have to be good at everything I try... I just have to do it, right? Right. And I did it. I took my first Zumba class this morning. I'm not going to say it was my last class (though that was my inclination), as I feel I should give it at least one more try before I write it off as an epic FAIL.

For those of you who don't know, Zumba is a new fitness craze (at least I think it's new... or I'm really behind). It blends aerobics, toning exercises, and Latin-style dance into one incredibly confusing, frustrating mess. Well, if you do it the way I do, it's messy. And pretty damned ugly. I know I've mentioned before that I have no rhythm. None. Truly. It's non-existent. My brother, who is totally deaf, dances better than I do. I wish I was kidding. I'm not. Anyway, you need rhythm to do Zumba. Well, you do if you don't want to trip over your own feet, go in the wrong direction, or look like a fool (all of which I did). Don't get me wrong, I have no problem looking like a fool (and I prove it by doing so with alarming regularity). I don't so much enjoy feeling like a fool, though. And I so did. Oh, I also found that my arms and legs are incapable of moving at the same time. My arms move. Or my legs move. They do not both move. As I say, a confusing, frustrating, ugly mess.

But the reasons behind the whole 45/45 Challenge were about getting me out of my comfort zone and trying some new things. Zumba worked on both counts... it was new and I was uncomfortable. Supremely uncomfortable. I did say I'd go back next week, though, as it's supposed to get easier with time. I'm not sure there's enough time before the world ends for me to get good at Zumba, though. We'll see.

So, #42 -- DONE! And stay tuned, as I'm planning to knock out (possibly literally) #12 on Saturday with my first ever cardio-kickboxing class! Let's hope it doesn't kick my butt the way Zumba did!

I've Been a Bad, Bad Blogger...

2010-02-22T10:18:00.004-05:00

But I have loads of reasons (and by 'reasons', I mean 'excuses') why. Part of it is that this winter is absolutely kicking my butt! I think I might have a case of that S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder) thing. 'Cause winter's a season (and a half this year!), I'm affected (and afflicted, as Ryan points out regularly) and I'm reasonably sure I have a couple of as yet undiagnosed disorders. Honestly, though, I've been in true hibernation-mode... I have no energy, I'm eating everything in sight, and I'm ready for bed at 8:00 every night (which is a problem, as I have to tuck Ryan in and she doesn't go to bed 'til 9:00. I tried to change her bedtime... pffftttt. Rotten child).

Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know I'm fat and sleepy, but alive. I am making plans to get moving ('planning' counts as industrious, right?) and I have forced myself to get out and do some things, even though all I want to do is lie on the couch and eat chocolate. I joined a new book club, as the men in my man-book club kept picking the most BORING books (and by 'BORING books', I mean 'books meant for people far smarter than I am') and I just couldn't stand it anymore. This club is wonderful... it's full of smart, funny, very cool women (who can all cook!). We read The Help by Kathryn Stockett for this month's get-together and it was fantastic! I highly recommend it!

Ironwoman had a great idea to do a mother/daughter book club, too. Our girls are the same age and they, as well as a few of their friends, read at the same level (around 11th grade), so we're excited about the sorts of books we can choose to read together and discuss. We're trying to sort out our first meeting for two weeks from now, as one of the local high schools is doing a dramatic production of Little Women and we thought we could read it, see it, and discuss it.

Summer plans are coming together, too. It looks like I'll be coaching the morning practices for our swim team, which I'm excited about. This will be the first year we've gotten to do morning practices and it'll free up my summer evenings for some fun stuff. Then Ironwoman and I are doing a week-long running clinic for girls (10-12 years old), based on a 'Girl Power!' theme, which I'm also very excited about. I'm also going to help her with a kid's triathlete clinic she wants to do. And... I'm organizing a week-long creative writing clinic for kids (9-11 years old), a couple of adult writing classes, and possibly some resume writing seminars, too. So summer will be busy!

So, regardless of all that industry, I'm sorry for being such a bad, bad blogger. I haven't been reading any blogs, as I have this weird thing where if I'm not writing, I don't allow myself to read either. I don't know why, really. If I did, I'd probably feel more inspired. I suppose it's a form of self-punishment (which I'm very good at). I will try to get 'round to everyone this week!

Oh, and thank you so much for all the wonderful, encouraging comments about my 45/45 Challenge!! They were all appreciated! I have started making little dents in the challenges that will run over the course of the year (like getting rid of one thing every day) and I'll be updating you periodically. And for the people who asked about my tattoo, I'm getting a small one on the inside of my right wrist (easily covered up but in a place I can see it)... it'll be a small compass, pointing to my 'true north', so that if I ever lose my way again, it's right there to remind me.

And that's all for now, my bloggy loves! I'll be 'round to see you soon!! XOXO

45/45 Challenge... Kick Off!!

2010-02-14T15:29:00.004-05:00

So, tomorrow is the 15th (my birthday!) and my 45/45 Challenge kicks off, my bloggy loves! I'm excited! For those of you who have just tuned in, I've decided to celebrate turning (and being) 45 by accomplishing a long list of challenges, some of which are on my 'bucket list', some of which simply need doing, and some of which I just want to see if I can do! I've updated my list since I first posted about it last month... you can read that post here, if you'd like... it explains why I want to take on this whole crazy task and where I got the idea (and by 'got', I totally mean 'stole'!).

You know I'll keep you posted as the year progresses. There are quite a few things on my list that are one-offs, but there are even more, I think, that I'll have to keep up with on a daily or monthly basis, so there should be plenty to write about (which is good, as I've had nothin' lately!).

Wish me luck!!

My 45/45 Challenge List

1. Complete the 60-mile breast cancer walk in Chicago in August
2. Complete the 60-mile breast cancer walk in DC in October
3. Raise $5,500 for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Research Fund
4. Run the Sherry Anderson 5K in April
5. Find and run a local 10K
6. Find and run a local 10-miler
7. Run the Patrick Henry Half-Marathon in August
8. Submit 3 pieces of writing for publication
9. Learn to salsa dance
10. Finish Pillars of the Earth
11. Read World Without End
12. Take a cardio-kickboxing class
13. Take a yoga class
14. Skydive in October
15. Swim 10 miles (640 pool lengths) over the summer
16. Wash my car once a month
17. Get a tattoo
18. Hike 25 miles of the Appalachian Trail
19. Do a mother/daughter camping weekend with ‘the girls’
20. Meet 4 bloggy friends in person
21. Bake a loaf of bread from scratch
22. Walk 1,200 miles (approximately 3/day)
23. Get through levels 1 and 2 of the Rosetta Stone Spanish tutorial
24. Knit a scarf (i.e. learn to knit)
25. Be a vegetarian for one full month
26. Go whitewater rafting (with class III – IV rapids)
27. Go up in the Washington Monument
28. Go up in the Statue of Liberty
29. See Phantom of the Opera on Broadway
30. Visit Well of Mercy retreat and be still and quiet for 2 days
31. Hike the Old Rag Mountain circuit in the SNP
32. Go ice skating in the sculpture garden at the Smithsonian
33. Give away/donate/get rid of one thing per day for 365 days
34. Reach the weight I was at 21
35. Do 45,000 crunches (approximately 125/day)
36. Go completely diet soda-free for one full month
37. Do some sort of volunteer activity twice/month
38. Attend a concert
39. Organize a girls' night out for all my Pigsknuckle girlfriends
40. Have a 'formal' picture taken of myself and Ryan this year
41. Contact Pigknuckle Community College about teaching a writing class
42. Take a Zumba class
43. Cook a completely new recipe (from scratch) once a month
44. Record my 45/45 Challenge events in a scrapbook
45. Throw a party for my 46th birthday!

Snow... Snow... and More Snow...

2010-02-06T13:10:00.009-05:00

Happy Saturday! Happy snowy Saturday, that is! It's been snowing in Pigsknuckle (and, indeed, across Virginia and several other states) since 6:00am yesterday. I thought I'd take a break from shoveling (which was sort of pointless, anyway, since I'm going to have to do it again later today) and show you what our neighborhood looks like right now. Luckily one of our neighbors has a plow, so he cleared the road in front of our houses, but these pictures will give you an idea of just how deep it is!

Looks comfy, no?

I won't be driving 'til Spring...

Yeah, it's deep...

Sundance and Peeto...
And the chase is on!

He's King of the Mountain!

Hope you're all warm and dry!! XOXO

Me, Myself, and I...

2010-02-02T18:51:00.004-05:00

Last week I was talking to an old friend I hadn’t seen in several years and we were catching each other up on what’s been going on in our lives. A little way into the conversation, she asked what I’ve come to realize is an inevitable question…

“Are you dating anyone?”

I’ve answered that question a million times in the past five years with all manner of responses. Though I’ve only dated one person seriously since my split from my ex-husband, I’ve dated quite a lot. I’ve run the gamut in terms of the sort of relationship I’ve wanted, from serious to casual, from 'just sex' to ‘friends with benefits’, from 'this could be the one' to ‘let’s just have some fun and see where it goes’. And I have had some fun and made a few good friends along the way, but more often than not, I’ve had my feelings hurt; I’ve felt rejected, frustrated, angry; I’ve been reduced to tears. Overall, my dating experiences have not been incredibly positive.

So, a little more than a year ago, I sat down and tried to sort out why none of my relationships were ‘sticking’. And I realized that the common denominator in all of them was…

Yup, you guessed it... Me.

Well, crap.

If you’ve been coming ‘round here for any length of time, you know a big portion of last year wasn’t really good for me. I spent a lot of time stuck in a rut (and by ‘rut’, I mean ‘a pit of quicksand the size of Rhode Island’). I wasn’t happy with life in general. Mostly, I wasn’t happy with myself. Not at all.

And I realized that until I could be happy with and by myself, I had no right to even think about looking for someone to share my life.

So I set about making some changes, as most of you know, and, as you know, I’m still doing it. But you know what else? I realized recently that I am happy overall, both with and by myself. And that? Is big. And? Even though I'm in a pretty good place – one which might lend itself to a healthy dating relationship – I don’t feel the need to look for one. And that? Is way cool, my peeps!

Now, don’t get me wrong… if a relationship happens to cross my path, you know, in the form of a cute, liberal-minded, creative, outdoorsy-type guy who kisses well and loves mouthy, independent kids and big, hairy dogs? Well, I’m certainly not going to turn it down (hell no, I'm not!).

But I’m not looking. And I don't know when I'll want to. It could be next week. It could be next year. I'm not feeling any pressure.

So, when my friend asked, “Are you dating anyone?”

I grinned and said, “Yup! Me! And you know what? It’s the best relationship I’ve had in a long, long time!”

And the best part? I was totally serious.

I Was Afraid This Would Happen...

2010-01-29T22:34:00.002-05:00

I have discovered yet another online addiction.

Facebook.

You guys know I resisted starting a page for ages. I didn't see the point, really. I was certain it was just another time-suck. But I gave in, figuring I'd just see what it was like and, sure I was going to hate it, thought I'd delete my page within a week or two. Yeah. Right. That was several months and 125 friends ago. It's actually been pretty cool, I have to admit. I don't play any of the games or pass virtual drinks around or hit anyone with virtual pillows, but I do 'play' on it every day. It's enabled me to get back in touch with people I never imagined I'd ever hear from again. It allows me to just drop quick notes to friends to let them know I'm thinking of them, without having to do the long, back-and-forth email thing. Cool.

An unexpected benefit of FB has been the writing. For those of you who don't know, FB lets you post 'status updates' as often as you'd like. You get 240 characters (about 4 lines) to say what you want to say (and oddly, most people wind up referring to themselves in the 3rd person, as each post starts with your name). The character limit really requires some creative writing, especially for wordy people like me. Not everyone is wordy, though, and some people use them to tell their friends pretty much everything they're doing...

"Mary is waiting for her kid at the orthodontist."
"Joe just ate a steak for dinner."
"Susan is going to the bathroom."

OK, well, that bathroom one might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the picture. I don't use FB for updates like that. I don't think anyone really needs (or wants) to know when I'm going to Target or how many times I peed in one day (unless, of course, I peed a shocking number of times... that might be notable). I thought I'd give you a few of the posts I've put in the past couple of weeks, since I haven't been around here much. They'll give you an idea of what I've been up to... or not...

Diane was alarmed and disappointed at the ease and speed with which the words 'dumb' and 'ass' shot out of her 10-year-old's mouth. Her 10-year-old was alarmed and disappointed at her own clear lack of discretion. She was also just a little scared of her mother's Evil Eye, which very nearly reduced her to mere ash... dumb ash.

Diane thinks that grown men who declare their affinity for Star Wars on their license plates and have pictures of Yoda and Luke Skywalker emblazoned on the back windows of their trucks probably don't get a lot of dates.

Diane wonders if it's terrible that I laughed REALLY hard when I saw a photo of my ex's new wife (you know, the one to whom he has not actually admitted being married) and noted that she has gained all the weight (and more) that I've lost this year. OK, you know what? I don't care if it's terrible... it's FUN-NY!

Diane believes that if talking was an Olympic sport, she'd be raising a gold medalist.

Diane has a 10-year-old who came home from school this afternoon feeling ugly, stupid, and clumsy. I felt so bad for her that I didn't tell her how those days still happen, even when you're 44.

Diane does not understand the point in separating whites from colors (as in laundry, not people... no, wait... as in people, too!) IF there is nothing in the 'colors' pile that will run. I also see no point in owning an iron as long as Downey keeps producing their bottled wrinkle releaser. Just sayin'.

Diane is considering drowning her supremely cranky 10-year-old in the supremely flooded basement. Yeah. It's Monday.

Diane had a dream last night that I got my feet stuck behind my head and someone took a picture and posted it on FB. I actually did get stuck like that when I was a kid and my mom had to unstick me. I just checked, though, and I can no longer do it (shock and surprise, right?!). I can, however, still touch my toes to my nose. I don't expect the need to do so will arise often, though. Nor will a photo of it.

Facebook. Fun. Addictive. Bit of a time-suck. But fun. Really!

Sometimes...

2010-01-26T08:53:00.009-05:00

In case you hadn't figured it out yet, I'm a 'two cents' sort of girl. I'll give you my two cents... definitely if you ask for them... and sometimes if you don't. As I get older, though, I'm learning to keep my two cents to myself... well, sometimes, anyway. I've realized that sometimes just knowing what's in my own head and heart is enough. Sometimes I can keep my big mouth shut and the world won't end.

Sometimes.

But sometimes? Sometimes I just can't help it. Sometimes my two cents just fly out of my mouth, sort of like my money flies out of my wallet in the grocery store.

And speaking of the grocery store (nice little segue there, eh?), I was there on Sunday for my weekly wallet-suck. As I was doing the final bolt for the things I'd forgotten (because I also forgot my list and since I don't like to waste time running up and down aisles from which I don't need anything, I, instead, waste time running back through the store, up and down aisles from which I actually did need things, which I forgot... because I forgot my list), and... umm... where was I? Oh, right, I was grabbing the last few things I'd forgotten when I passed a girl marching toward the meat section, looking rather grim. She looked like a college student (the dead give-away was her Uggs/pajama pants/hoodie ensemble) and she was being followed by a guy, also in college attire (hoodie/shorts/flip flops... in January), looking less grim, more plead-y. I know plead-y isn't a word, but what does someone look like who's in plead-mode? I dunno. Anyway, although all I could hear of their conversation was him whining, "Come on, pleeeeease?", it was clear that she was having none of it.

Needless to say, my curiosity was piqued ('cause I'm nosy like that, that's why). So when I had the opportunity to get behind them in the check-out line a few minutes later, I grabbed it. I only heard a little bit of their conversation. But it was quite enough.

Him (whispering loudly): I don't know why you're mad. It was just kissing! It's not like I had sex with her!

Her (not whispering at all): If you don't walk away now, I'm gonna hit you with this ham.

At this point, he turned and looked at me, then rolled his eyes, as if to say, "Can you believe this?"

You know how I said that sometimes I'm a 'two cents' sort of girl? Yeah. This was one of those times.

Me: Dude. You should walk. 'Cause I might have to hit you, too.

In case you're wondering, he walked. It seems stupid does have limits. Sometimes, anyway.

Forgive Me...

2010-01-23T12:58:00.006-05:00

Forgive me bloggers, for I have sinned. It's been a week since my last confession... er, post...

Wow, this week just flew by! The last time I checked, it was Saturday. And here it is, Saturday again! But I've got reasons for being AWOL (and by 'reasons', I mean 'excuses'). As I mentioned, the Republican was here at the beginning of the week. He's on leave from Afghanistan and came to visit little old me for a couple of days. We had a good time - ate out a lot (and I gained a pound this week... damned Republicans... everything is their fault), went to the movies ('Leap Year' should win the Cutest Movie of the Year award... predictable and formulaic, but adorable nonetheless), and just generally caught up with each other. He's back with his family in NJ now (washing my liberalness out of his ears, I'm sure), and will be heading back to the war zone in about a week. Before he left, though, I had him take a new photo of me to post here and on my FB page. As I might have mentioned, I loathe having my picture taken. I'm pretty much the least photogenic person on the planet. But the Republican is a professional photographer so I figured if anyone could take a picture which would make me look mostly human, he could. Plus, he owed me, after taking those horrific shots (without my knowledge) that sent me screaming to Weight Watchers. Anyway, this is one of two new pictures (the other is in my profile... and I hope you like it because it's the one I'll have posted on here for the next 3 or 4 years)...

I didn't hate them. And that's saying a lot. I have to be the worst 'model' ever, though. Being on the other side of the camera lens (and by 'other side', I mean the 'wrong side'), has to be one of the most uncomfortable things I can think of. Giving birth was worse. But not much. In fact, I'm thinking that one of my 45/45 Challenges should be having my picture taken every week until I can pose for a photo without hyperventilating or wanting to throw up.

Anyway, the rest of the week was busy, too. I taught my first adult creative writing class on Thursday night, which was a lot of fun. The weather was dismal, though, so our numbers were down by two, but it was OK regardless. This Wednesday will be my first 'seniors' class about writing memoirs and life stories. I'm looking forward to it, as I have (as of right now) 6 people signed up. The turn-out for all my classes has been better than I expected. Today was the second Superhero Saturday and it went as well as last week. And a teacher friend approached me yesterday about doing a poetry workshop with her 3rd grade class soon. That? Will be seriously cool!

Other than that, it's just been life getting in the way of blogging. This week coming is going to be busy, too, but will hopefully lend itself to reading and writing as well! I hope your week was wonderful, my bloggy buds! I'll make my way 'round Blogland tonight and catch up on all you've been doing!!! XOXO

Superhero Saturday!

2010-01-16T19:05:00.006-05:00

I taught my first creative writing class today! And it was... drum roll, please... a great success! Yes, indeedy! Today was the first of four Superhero Saturdays...

The class was made up of five smart, funny, energetic 8 to 10-year-olds... three boys and two girls (I expected all boys, given the subject matter, so I was quite pleased). The number was perfect, as there were a couple of chatterboxes, and it gave everyone the opportunity to talk. I love how enthusiastic they were to share their ideas -- and they were full of ideas!

Today we worked on building a foundation for their stories and coming up with back-story. They also drew their superheroes and I was amazed at one little girl's talent... she has a career in graphic novel illustration for sure! So after fleshing out their characters, we wound up with a couple of techno-centric heroes, a superdog, a 3-eyed female superhero with X-Ray vision, and (my personal favorite) a time-traveling pioneer hero. It was way cool!

All the kids had as much fun as I did and left looking forward to next week. And I'm looking forward to bringing you more Superhero Saturday updates! Stay tuned... same bat time... same bat channel...

Cattitude...

2010-01-14T19:53:00.006-05:00

I'm not a cat person. Not really. I don't dislike them at all but I've never owned one (or been owned by one), nor have I ever really had the desire. Cats are just too independent... too aloof... too, well, snooty for me. And up until just recently, I was allergic to them. Touching a critter of the feline persuasion caused my eyes to swell shut and my nose to run like a faucet. Not pleasant. It seems I've outgrown the allergy, though (and it's a good thing, as you'll soon see). Anyway, I've always been of the give me a sweet, slobbery, goofy pooch any day attitude.

However... I might be changing that attitude.

Everyone, meet Peeto. Peeto, meet everyone.

Cute, huh? Peeto is not my cat. Honest. Peeto, however, might not know this. He actually belongs to our across-the-street neighbor. He used to be her 'inside cat' (along with his brother, Toby) but for some reason, the boys have become her 'outside cats' and they roam the neighborhood freely. In the warmer months, they spent a lot of time in our yard, terrorizing the birds and playing with Sundance. Really. He loves them. Or he did... when they were our neighbor's outside cats. Now? Peeto seems to have become our inside cat. Or inside/outside cat, actually.

It started when the weather got colder. Peeto would shoot in the front door when I let Sundance out (Toby shows up once in a while, but not so often as his brother). Ryan loves this (she is a cat person and has always wanted one) and since he was in fairly often, we did what any reasonable animal lovers would do... we bought food. Yup. You guessed it. Peeto started showing up more often. A lot more often. Now? If Sundance hasn't gone out in a while, Peeto just knocks on the storm door... and of course, I open it. If that doesn't work? He shows up at whatever window I'm closest to (I can't tell you how many times he's nearly given me a coronary when I'm doing the dishes!).

And he's started to make himself very, very comfortable...

As I mentioned, Sundance really likes the cats. Actually, I've wondered if he might wonder if they're even cats. They sort of act like dogs. As soon as they see him (or us), they plop down, roll over, and expose their bellies for rubbing. I've never seen a cat do that. My dog, though? Does it all the time. Sundance likes to paw at them and they grab his feet with their kitty paws and hold on. It's pretty cute. Sometimes they even lay down together and snuggle. That is, when they're outside. When they're inside, Sundance isn't so sure what to think. He's a pretty jealous boy by nature and when we're at the park, I'm not even allowed to pet any other dogs (though he's allowed to be petted by their owners... not quite sure how that works). Anyway, since it's been so incredibly cold, I can't bring myself to put Peeto outside at night (but I also won't give him full access to the house), so he's started sleeping with me... and Sundance. He always starts out on the wicker chair in my room. Sundance usually looks at him - and then me - quite plaintively, as if to say, "Really, Mom? Again?"

Then he gives him a snuffle...

And, finally, gives me the (tentative) OK.

I think Sundance would like it a lot better if Peeto would just stay on the chair. Truth be told, so would I. I'm not used to a critter climbing all over my furniture in the middle of the night. Or sleeping on my head. But we're getting used to each other.

And I think I might be turning into a cat person.

400... and Mundane Stuff...

2010-01-13T10:46:00.004-05:00

So, this is my 400th post! Whoo hoo! But, well, if you're expecting something fabulous to mark the big 400, ummm, yeah... you might have to wait for 500. 'Cause I got nothin'. And when I've got nothin', you get, as you know, the stunningly mundane. Sorry, loves.

Mundane thing #1: Actually, this is pretty cool! So far, 11 people have signed up for my creative writing classes at the Pigsknuckle rec center! Whoo hoo! I'm quite excited (as you can tell by the Whoo hoo!), as they warned me that a first-time class often doesn't garner any interest. The first one (Superhero Saturdays!) starts this weekend and has 5 little people ('little' as in age, not as in 'vertically challenged') signed up. The other classes each have 3 people in them and the sign-ups haven't been closed yet, so I could get more. I'm happy to have met my 'minimum required', though, so more would just be icing on the cake!

Mundane thing #2: It's cold outside. Seriously. After my walk at the park this morning, which was cut short due to winds blowing in from the Arctic, I've decided to shop for a full-face balaclava. Wrapping my scarf around my mouth and nose nearly suffocates me and it gets sort of wet (apparently I spit when I breathe... lovely, eh?) and feels absolutely disgusting (and even colder, if that's possible). My friend Emmy and I have taken to running at the rec center on the indoor track. Even though I got beaned in the head by a wayward basketball yesterday, I still think it's much safer than risking losing appendages to frostbite.

Mundane thing #3: Ryan's first ski lesson of the winter is on Friday night. Her first lesson last year took place in -5F temperatures. We'll see if we can't beat that record this year. So you know, Ryan's mother will be inside the lodge, seated near the fire, with a glass of wine in hand, watching her child through the (likely fogged-up) windows. And she will not feel guilty in the least.

Mundane thing #4: The Republican will be here early next week, as he's on leave from Afghanistan. In fact, he should be hanging out with his extended family in New Jersey right about now, I think, as he left the airport in Dubai early last evening. I'm looking forward to seeing his crusty, conservative old self for a couple of days, and we're going to see what sort of trouble we can get into while he's here. And if I'm back here blogging on Monday night, you'll know the only trouble we managed was a conversation about politics, religion, the war(s), gay marriage, etc, etc, and I stomped off in a huff, vowing never to speak to him again. It wouldn't be the first time.

And that's all. Hope your day isn't stunningly mundane, my bloggy peeps!! Oh, and I'm in the process of finalizing my 45/45 Challenge list and I'll post it soon! Thanks for all the great suggestions! XOXO

Of Heroes and Humility...

2010-01-11T23:05:00.003-05:00

How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world... Anne Frank

Miep Gies, the woman who helped to hide Anne Frank and her family from the Nazis, died today at 100 years old. Since reading The Diary of Anne Frank for the first time when I was in elementary school, Miep Gies has been one of my heroes. Last year, when I read The Freedom Writers Diary, I came to admire her even more.

She never saw herself as a hero. Brimming with clarity and humility, she always said she only did what she believed was right. It sounds so simple, doesn't it? But she did it in the face of sheer evil; under the threat of death. She risked her own life to save someone else. I've often wondered if tested, I would demonstrate that same sort of courage. I'm not so sure.

I'm sad to know she's gone but I'm ever so grateful she was here. And I know that although she became famous because of the diary, there were many, many people who exemplified the same sort of courage and humility; whose names and faces were never known to people other than those they helped. I know those sorts of people have existed through time and across continents. The world is full of them right now, though so many of us choose to glorify sports figures and actors, musicians and reality television personalities instead.

So I challenge each of you to find and honor your personal hero. I challenge each of you to seek out the true heroes in your community; in our society - the people who simply do what is right; who live with humility; who serve the common good; who teach and rescue and protect and heal; who do it all without glory or reward.

And then? Let's just say 'thank you'.

Thank you, Miep Gies... for simply doing what was right and helping the world to see that, in the words of a little girl who saw more beauty and truth within the confines of an attic than many of us see in the whole wide world, "...our lives are all different and yet the same."

To Do:

2010-01-10T22:28:00.010-05:00

Since I've been big on making lists lately, I figured I'd jot down (and share) my to do list for Monday...

1. Call to make an appointment for a (desperately needed) haircut

2. Shop for a new pair of shoes

3. Take Sundance for a walk

4. Finish Ryan's laundry

5. Work-out at the park

6. Dream of warmer temps and sunny climes...

45 / 45 Challenge!

2010-01-07T16:12:00.008-05:00

So, my birthday is coming up in about a month. Birthdays aren’t really a big deal in our family beyond age 10 or so and I’ve never done much to celebrate it. When I was married, my ex always lumped it together with Valentine’s Day (if he remembered it at all). Now Ryan always makes a big deal of it (bless her heart) but she’s been too little to bake and up until recently, I had to give her money to buy my present, so… you know (I know you single moms know). I did, however, celebrate my 40th. That was the year my ex told me he wanted a divorce (so he could move in with a 29-year-old), so I went to England for two weeks and got drunk. Well, I wasn’t drunk for the whole two weeks. Oh… wait… ummm… yeah… never mind…

Anyway… it’s not that this particular birthday is one of those big milestones, but it is one that ends in ‘5' and they always seem like mini-milestones. Don’t they? And this one – 45 – seems like an even bigger mini-milestone than the normal ‘5’ birthdays seem to me. See, for the first time in a long time, I feel like Diane again. In fact, I feel a lot like the Diane I was at 25, when I was still invincible – before life kicked me in the ass; before I had any idea that a human being could actually shatter. It’s not that I think I’m invincible again. Lord, no. I know better. But I feel stronger and more at peace with myself than I’ve felt in two decades. That strength and peace were hard-won and came, thankfully, with a little bit of wisdom about life – about love and pain and loss and betrayal and breaking and healing... like I said, about life.

So, given how I’m feeling, it only seems fitting that this year, I celebrate!

But how?

Well, the other day, I was having a mooch around Facebook and I found this page, which led me to this blog, where I got this great idea. Actually, it was the blog writer, Dean’s, idea… I just stole it. But I told him I was stealing it, so that makes it OK. Doesn’t it? I think it does.

Anyway, he decided that to celebrate turning (and being) 40, he’s going to do a 40/40 Challenge. What’s a 40/40 Challenge, you ask? Good question, my bloggy buds! He’s going to do 40 things over the course of the year… 40 challenging things (hence the word ‘challenge’ in the title), the success of each providing for mini-celebrations all year long! I thought it was an amazing idea! So, as I said, I stole it!

I did adapt it to suit my own needs (it’s my birthday, I can do what I want to). So it’s (obviously) a 45/45 Challenge for me. And instead of working it from New Year’s Day to New Year’s Eve, as Dean is doing, I’m going to work mine from February 15, 2010 (my birthday) to February 14, 2011.

I’ve been pondering my list of challenges for a couple of days and after reviewing my 2010 goals and my ever-growing ‘bucket list’, I’ve got about 40 so far (a few of which regular readers will recognize). I asked for ideas from some other friends and got some good stuff back, too, so I’m going to list what I’ve got today and ask you all for suggestions to finish it up. I need for them to be challenging but do-able (all at once or over the course of a full year), keeping in mind my woeful lack of funds and physical coordination. Actually, a lot of the challenges I have so far are physical, so things other than running/hiking/swimming/etc would be good. Have a look-see at what I’ve got, think of what you’d put on your own challenge list, and if anything else comes to mind, I’d love if you’d let me know via comments or email. Thanks!

1. Complete the 60-mile breast cancer walk in Chicago in August
2. Complete the 60-mile breast cancer walk in DC in October
3. Raise $5,500 for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Research Fund
4. Run the Sherry Anderson 5K in April
5. Find and run a local 10K
6. Find and run a local 10-miler
7. Run the Patrick Henry Half Marathon in August
8. Submit 3 pieces of writing for publication (they need not actually be published to consider this a success)
9. Learn to salsa dance (stop laughing!)
10. Finish Pillars of the Earth (finally!)
11. Read World Without End (also finally!)
12. Take a cardio-kickboxing class
13. Take a yoga class
14. Skydive in October (yup, I’m really gonna do it!)
15. Swim 10 miles (640 pool lengths) over the summer
16. Wash my car once a month (as opposed to once a year)
17. Get a tattoo (on my left wrist)
18. Hike 25 miles of the Appalachian Trail
19. Do a mother/daughter camping weekend with ‘the girls’
20. Meet 5 bloggy friends (if you don’t want me to visit, say so now!)
21. Bake a loaf of bread from scratch (and eat it!)
22. Walk 1,200 miles
23. Get through levels 1 and 2 of the Rosetta Stone Spanish tutorial
24. Knit a scarf (which will require me to learn to knit)
25. Be a vegetarian for one full month
26. Go whitewater rafting (with class III – IV rapids)
27. Go up in the Washington Monument
28. Go up in the Statue of Liberty
29. See Phantom of the Opera on Broadway
30. Visit Well of Mercy retreat and be still/quiet for 2 days (shut it!)
31. Hike the Old Rag Mountain circuit in the SNP
32. Go ice skating in the sculpture garden at the Smithsonian
33. Give away/donate/get rid of one thing per day for 365 days
34. Reach the weight I was at 21
35. Do 45,000 crunches (it’s only about 125/day… every day)
36. Go completely diet soda-free for one full month
37. Volunteer twice/month at Our Community Place soup kitchen
38. Attend a comedy club
39. Attend a concert
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45. Throw a party for my 46th birthday! (It'll be the first in 30 years!)

I can't wait to hear back from you guys. And I'm actually looking forward to my birthday so I can get started! Who'd a thunk it?

I Wonder...

2010-01-05T09:46:00.002-05:00

I wonder who she is. I’ve wondered since the first time I saw her from the comfort of my air conditioned car, walking in the full sun and blistering heat of summer, her backpack slung over one shoulder, sleeping bag under the other arm. I still wonder, from the comfort of my heated car, as she walks in the frigid cold, without a coat warm enough to block the arctic blasts.

I wonder what her name is. I wonder if she's near my age, as she appears to be, or if she's actually younger, her life hardening and aging her before her time. I always wonder where she’s going with her purposeful walk and her mouth set in a grim, determined line. I’ve wondered if I could look into her eyes, would I see pride and hope? Or would they be filled with defeat and hurt and anger? But I can’t see her eyes. She keeps them down, avoiding contact with anyone passing. I wonder, is she avoiding their pity? Or their ridicule? Or their apathy?

I wonder what has brought her to where she is. I wonder why she has to walk, carrying what seems to be all she owns. I wonder where the clear plastic pack, like a small child’s, came from? Did she choose it? Does she not mind that everyone can see all her possessions? Or does she simply not care? Is she too proud or just too tired to worry about it?

I wonder where she eats. Or if she has enough to eat. I wonder where she sleeps. At night, when I have to push my dog out the front door to do his business before bed, I steel myself against the wind and far-below-freezing temperatures, and I think of her. I wonder where she is. I wonder if she’s still walking… if she’s still outside, in weather not fit for my dog. I wonder if she’s warm and fed… or if she’s cold and hungry. And minutes later, when I’m in bed, under cozy blankets, my big fuzzy boy curled beside me, lending his warmth and comfort, I wonder where she’s sleeping. I wonder where she had to lay down her sleeping bag, the one she carries with her all the time… I wonder where she’s resting her head.

Most of all, I wonder if I’ll ever be kind enough, or brave enough, to stop her… and simply ask.

I Think Marty's Got Something There...

2010-01-02T14:47:00.003-05:00

I don't know who Martin Kornfeld is, but I think he might just have the right idea...

"If we all do one random act of kindness daily, we might just set the world in the right direction."

It works for me!

Cinderella Ran With the Warm Fuzzies and Reached her Goal!

2010-01-01T14:47:00.004-05:00

Happy New Year, my bloggy loves! Hope you rang yours in in whatever manner you desired (that 'in in' thing looks really wrong, doesn't it? I don't think it's supposed to be 'in, in', is it? And I couldn't think of another way to word it... so screw it). Anyway, Ryan and Sundance and I stayed home last night (as we do pretty much every New Year's Eve) and watched Ever After, which was one of Ryan's Christmas presents (mostly because I wanted to see it and it was on sale at Target for $5.00!). It was really very good, even though it had Drew Barrymore in it (I don't think she can act her way out of a paper bag), and I think it's now my favorite version of the Cinderella story. But Cinderella really doesn't have much to do with ringing in the new year, does she? Moving on...

We ended the year with our 5K in downtown Pigsknuckle. My girl did remarkably well and finished with a time of 30.19! That's pretty fabulous, especially since she's only 10 and it was her first race! We think she even came in first in the 13 and under age group (we should know for sure on Monday). Most of our other GoGirlGo! girls did incredibly well, too, and Ironwoman and I (and all the other parents) were really proud of them! I wound up at the back with some of the kids who just never took to running, so I didn't even bother to get my time. But it was slow. Very slow. It was harder than I remember it being but it was still good and my commitment to running was renewed. My friend Emmy (who wheezed alongside me yesterday) and I are going to sit down and map out a strategy for getting ready for our half-marathon in August. We're doing another 5K in April, too, so we'll be able to gauge our progress a bit. I'm glad Emmy's going to do that one with me because when I mentioned it to Ryan last night again, she said, "Ummmm... Mom? When we do the race in April, do I have to, you know, run with you?" (Interpretation: Do I have to slow down to turtle speed so you can keep up?) I tried to look all offended but her expression made me laugh and I told her no, she could run as fast as she wants and I'll just limp along at my own pace. I did tell her to bring a book, though, so she'll have something to do while she waits for me at the finish. Rotten (albeit speedy) child. Anyway, I was beyond proud of her and though she's whined all day about being sore, I think maybe a real runner was born yesterday... and that makes me very happy!

Another cool thing happened yesterday, which helped to end my year on a high note. I got a Facebook friend request from someone I didn't know (no, that wasn't the 'high note' part). I emailed the requester and asked if we know each other and I simply didn't recognize her name (which has happened a couple of times and always makes me feel crappy, as I would hate it if someone didn't remember me). She emailed me back and said that we don't actually know each other but she's been a faithful reader (i.e. lurker) of my blog for a while now and when she saw me on FB, she thought she'd send me a friend request. She went on to say she thinks my writing is wonderful, which totally made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. All of you know how it feels when someone tells you they like what you write... it's beyond cool. And you know I'm one of those bloggers who checks her stats every day and wonders who those lovely lurkers are (and wishes they'd get in touch). So, thanks Julie, for lurking :), for liking what I write, for saying so, for FB friending me, and for giving me the last warm fuzzies of 2009!

2009 was a year of incredible bad and even more incredible good for me. I went from feeling as low as I've felt in a long, long time, to feeling better than I've maybe ever felt. But it was a gradual process (so no, I don't think I need medication ;) and it came about when I was able to make a conscious effort to change my attitude about a lot of things. It was also the result of setting, working toward, and achieving goals. If I had to choose a word that sums up 2009 for me, it would have to be patience. I stopped wanting everything now and realized that everything worthwhile takes time. It was pretty big for me, people. Pretty damned big.

So, I've spent a good bit of today sorting out goals and plans for the coming year. I don't do 'resolutions', as they seem so black and white to me. They are 'yes or no'... 'do or fail'... 'now or never'. I don't like that. But goals require a plan of action and time to achieve them. They're more grey than black and white and I've found that the path to attainment can have detours and set-backs, but that the goal can remain in sight. I do so like that. And I have many. I divided them into categories like 'health and fitness', 'work', 'personal enrichment', 'social', 'projects', and 'financial'. I won't bore you with my list but I'm sure you'll be hearing about them in the months to come.

How about you? Have you set goals for 2010? Whether you have or haven't, I hope 2010 turns out to be a truly remarkable year of positives and happiness for all of you, my bloggy friends and lurkers!!! I look forward to sharing another year with you... getting to know you even better... and getting to meet a few of you face-to-face (finally!!)!! Much love to you all... XOXOXO

Coming Right Up...

2009-12-28T19:31:00.003-05:00

I got an email from a lovely bloggy friend last night that said, "Have you died?"

Nope. I haven't. I'm alive and well... pleased the holidays are nearly over and regrouping before the new year begins and life returns to some semblance of 'normal' (such as it is). I've actually been trying to come up with something to post about... but I've got nothin'. And you know what that means, don't you?

Stunningly mundane, coming right up!

Did everyone have a nice Christmas (if you celebrate it)? Ours was pretty OK. It was smaller (with regard to the number of gifts) than in years past, but that's quite a good thing, I think. I was required to be more creative than normal when choosing Ryan's gifts and I wound up picking things she really, truly wanted and loved. I didn't get even one whiff of disappointment (which was really good, as I'd have had to whack her). And I'd heard somewhere that if funds are limited, it's best to choose a gift that's an 'experience' or 'event' over one that's just 'stuff'. So, since funds were limited, I went that route and got tickets for Wicked, which Ryan's been dying to see for the past three years. For those who don't know, it's a musical based on Gregory Maguire's book, about how the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda (of Wizard of Oz fame... duh) became mortal enemies (did you know they were college roommates?). We're seeing it in Richmond in March and we're both pretty excited.

Other than that, we're still slogging through left-over snow here. It's finally melting and Sundance and I got to the park this morning for the first time since two feet got dumped on Pigsknuckle. It's pretty messy, let me tell you, but my boy was beyond excited and I was happy to just watch him run (and try to keep myself vertical on the ice floes).

And speaking of running, I just committed to doing a half-marathon this summer. I debated on doing one in April but I thought that might just be too soon (I don't want to, you know, die in the middle of it). I figure I'll be ready after eight months of training (and one of the Booby Walks under my belt). I'm pretty excited about it and am hoping to talk my friend Emmy into joining me. And Ryan and I are doing a 5K together in April. Our New Year's Eve 5K is looming... though there might be some snow/rain that day... we'll see.

I'm sorting out some plans for next year... plans and goals. I'll likely bore you with all of that soon enough. Yeah, I hear you cheering (and by 'cheering', I mean 'groaning').

But that's all for now, folks! I'll make my way 'round Blogland tonight to catch up with everyone! XOXO

I Thought Wisdom Came With Age...

2009-12-21T22:20:00.001-05:00

Marilyn Monroe once said, "A wise girl kisses but doesn’t love, listens but doesn’t believe, and leaves before she is left."

Yeah.

I'm so not wise.

It Cracked Me Up...

2009-12-15T12:22:00.005-05:00

You guys know I'm not a big fan of Christmas music but I heard this great, funny song on the radio the other day and wanted to share it. You have to watch the video all the way through... the last bit is great!

Crack-me-up-Christmas-carol

Focus on the Positive...

2009-12-14T09:48:00.009-05:00

Today is one of those days when, no matter how hard I try, the worry and frustration over things I cannot quickly change just kicks my butt. So, in an effort to keep the negative at bay, I'm focusing on the positive and, as such, I thought I'd do a 'Things I Love' post. They just make me happy. So, here are ten things I love and would truly hate to live my life without...

My friends... I call them my 'chosen family' for a reason. Lord, but they keep me going when things are really tough. They catch me when I fall and support me in ways I'm sure I don't deserve. I love them all.

London... I've said it before and I'll say it again... I just love that place.

Wine... red wine, to be specific... Merlot and Pinot Noir, to be even more specific... with friends, always.

I'm not sure I love running yet... I used to and I want to again, so I'm working on it. I do know I love the feeling I have when I'm finished running, so that's something!

Days like these...

And nights like these...

Everyone knows I love books in general and I really loved this book in particular! It was easily my favorite this year. I think it's beyond cool when you find a story that makes you wish the people in it were real... and that you were living next door to them and sharing in their lives!

The sea... always the sea. Any sea, any coast, any country...

Travel... put me in a plane (train or automobile) going almost anywhere and I'm happy! (And hey, look where the little plane is pointed toward! :)

Ahem. Enough said...

Mostly I love that I finally figured out (after a year and a half), that if I load pictures into Blogger backwards (i.e. last one first), I don't have to do all that tedious dragging. Sometimes I'm so smart (and quick), it astonishes even me!

Hope your day is filled with things you love! XOXO

My Eyes! My Eyes!

2009-12-11T15:33:00.003-05:00

I think I've probably mentioned how I don't shop at WalMart.

Correction: I won't shop at WalMart. Ever.

There are lots of reasons for my boycott (which has been in effect for about a dozen years now) and I won't go into grand detail, but you should know I call that wonderful corporation, 'The Evil Empire'. I hate everything about them, from the way they come into small communities and completely decimate the local retail markets; to the way they claim to bring jobs to depressed areas but then pay their employees so little and keep the vast majority at part-time (to avoid paying for benefits and insurance); I hate their employee relations practices; I hate how sub-standard their brand products are; I hate their sub-sub-standard service (which is understandable, given the appalling employee relations practices I mentioned before); I hate how they are striving to (and gloat publicly about), not compete fairly in a free market, but annihilate their competition by what I consider shady marketing practices; and I hate the way Americans flock to their stores in droves, just to save a few dollars, and in doing so, make an absolutely crap corporation even stronger. I am concerned, truly, that before too long, there will simply be nowhere else for a large number of Americans to shop. And if that happens? I will be pissed off.

OK, so I guess I did go into detail. Sorry. And if you happen to be a WalMart employee and you love your company and your job, well, I'm happy for you. But I can tell you that you won't change my mind about how I feel, so don't even try. I refuse to support the store in any way. My mother gets aggravated with me because I will spend $20 a week more in groceries (when I really cannot afford to do so) in order to avoid entering The Evil Empire (where she shops, mind you). But I don't care. I'd rather spend money I can't afford to spend than support a store I think should be run out of business. And that's fully my prerogative.

And? I found yet another reason not to shop at The Evil Empire last night. My friend Emmy posted something about a website on her Facebook page... a website I'd never heard of. So I had to go look. I have four words for you...

My eyes! My eyes!

I'm going to post the link below. Some of you may know about it already. Some of you will find it funny. Some of you will find it disgusting. Some of you, if you're like me, will be fascinated and horrified, sort of like when you pass a terrible car accident on the road... you don't want to look because you know what you're going to see will be gruesome, but you just can't help yourself. And, if you're like me, you'll need to wash your eyes out... with bleach... when you're finished looking.

To those non-Americans who might peruse the website I'm going to link, please, please, PLEASE do not assume that the majority of us are like this. We are not! Granted, there are more of us like this than I care to acknowledge... but I am certain it's not the majority. God, I hope it's not the majority! No, it's not the majority. Damn it.

OK, are you ready?

The website is People of Walmart... prepare yourself for what you are about to see...

Oh, and be sure to read the captions under the photos...

I Hate This Day...

2009-12-10T02:04:00.002-05:00

It’s December 10th. I hate this day. I think I’ll probably hate it forever, though I don’t want to. I know it’s just a date on a calendar, really, and should be no better or worse than any other. And every year I think, maybe this year it won’t hurt so much. Maybe this year I’ll forget to hate this day. But it hasn’t happened yet. And I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that a hundred and eleven years from now, I’ll still hate it.

Last year I explained why and those of you who have been around a while might have read that post. I’ve copied it here, as I’m not sure there’s more I can say. And honestly? Nothing has changed…

Just Do It ‘til You Fart (Orginally posted December 9, 2008)

When I was a teenager, my dad asked me to help him loosen a bolt from a pipe (my brothers weren’t home, so DIY assistance fell to me). My job was basically to provide resistance – to hold the pipe still as he used a massive wrench to loosen the bolt. Sounds easy, right? Nope… that bolt was stuck tight. I was holding the pipe as steady as I could but I wasn’t strong enough to counter his… wrenching. My dad looked at me with a rather exasperated expression and said, “Diane, just do it ‘til you fart.” Well, I burst out laughing and lost my grip on the pipe just as my dad gave it a good yank, and it shot up and damn-near broke my cheekbone.

That was my dad… he was a ‘do it ‘til you fart’ sort of person. Whatever he did, he gave it his all. And that included loving me. I could always trust that no matter how I failed; no matter what asinine thing I did; no matter what – he would love me; he would accept me (I know all parents are supposed to do that, but I also know that not all do). He was not a perfect man and sometimes he infuriated and confounded and even disappointed me, but he was still my hero. He taught me to think for myself – something I’m sure he kicked himself in the ass for at times, as from 15 on, I rarely agreed with him about anything… but I think, deep down, he was proud, too; proud that I stood up for what I thought was right, even if he thought I was wrong.

My father’s death was devastating. I knew it was coming, but knowing something and believing it are two different things. Knowing certainly didn’t make it easier to accept or handle. That I didn’t make it home in time compounded the difficulty. I was already so angry and hurt and lost and sad, but still, the part of me that likes to torture myself when I mess up had to throw some guilt on top of the emotional crap heap already smothering me. It didn’t matter that I knew in my head my dad understood why I wasn’t there; that he knew I loved him. My heart was ripped apart with grief and guilt, and it ruled my psyche for a long time after his death.

The day after he died, I sat down at his desk and started writing – logging memories frantically, terrified they would all disappear because I couldn’t see his face or hear his voice anymore. The unintentional result of my scribbling was my father’s eulogy. No one in my family thought I’d actually be able to deliver it. Hell, even I didn’t think so. I was a mess. But as I stood, all alone, in a little room next to the chapel at the funeral home, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace settle around me… in me. I believe it was my dad giving me what I needed at that moment… and I understood that it had to be me who spoke at his service; that no one else could say my words. Having me deliver the eulogy was what he would have wanted… and what I needed. It was my way to say good-bye; to honor my father in a way he would have loved. So I did it. I stood up in front of everyone, with dry eyes and a clear voice, and I told them about my hero; I showed them my dad through my eyes; through my words. I made them laugh… and cry… and I know I made him proud.

That was ten years ago. Lord, how time flies. It feels like his funeral was just last December. I didn't think I’d make it through that first year... and I’m not entirely sure how I did. It was likely because I had a new baby to take care of… and because I still felt my dad around me; I really believed he was still there. I was also sure it would get easier with time. I suppose it has. I don’t cry every day now… but I still cry. There’s still a hole in my heart… in my life… in my whole world… where my dad used to be, and time and my memories simply aren’t big enough to fill it. It gapes, wide and dark, and sometimes – the times when I want so desperately to tell him something or when I need to lean on him – that darkness just about swallows me whole.

And I don’t feel him anymore.

And that might be the worst thing of all.

I just miss him like hell.

My dad…

June 26, 1937 – December 10, 1998

Snuffle... Sniff...

2009-12-08T09:57:00.002-05:00

Fighting off some sort of winter ick at the moment. Likely the same ick Ryan had at the end of last week. Not feeling perfectly horrible... just nicely horrible. Back when the ick's been banished... XO

Pigsknuckle in White...

2009-12-05T14:11:00.010-05:00

So, the weatherman didn't lie after all! We've gotten a load of snow so far and it's still coming down. I took my boy to the park this morning, along with my camera, and then Ryan and I walked downtown, again with the camera, to go to the library and have lunch. Below are some of the pictures I took of lovely Pigsknuckle under a blanket of white...

Here are a few at Pigsknuckle Park... the bridge (where I saw the otter!)...

The pond...

One of the ducks I mentioned in yesterday's post, enjoying his Jacuzzi...

My sweet, gorgeous Boy...

Downtown Pigsknuckle... this is the old courthouse on the square (the new one isn't nearly so pretty)...

Just a cool old building, also on the square, and the 'spring house' in the lower right corner...

My girl, also on the square :)...

Pretty, huh? Everything's pretty when it's covered in snow, I guess. Hope your weekend's as lovely!! XOXO

Friday Miscellany...

2009-12-04T12:40:00.002-05:00

Happy Friday, my bloggy loves! I don't have anything important to say so I figured I'd fill your screen with a mish-mash of miscellany from the stunningly mundane happenings that make up my life. Whoo hoo! ;)

Ryan's home sick today (and yesterday). It's nothing serious... a bit of a temp, a lot of snot, a little cough. Yesterday she said to me, "I hate being sick. I get a really bad taste in my mouth... and this time it has substance." I snorted and got all grossed out at the same time. She's got a way with words, that kid I love.

It's really a wonder everyone and their brothers aren't sick right now, given the games Mother Nature has been playing. We've gone from frigid monsoon-like weather to spring-like days and back to the grey chill again. It's so aggravating. The weatherman says there could be snow in the weekend forecast. I don't really believe it but I suppose anything is possible. We shall see...

At the park this morning I saw six deer... it was way cool. I also saw a beautiful heron (with the wingspan of a friggin' pterodactyl! It scared the crap out of me when it flew right overhead!). But the best part of my park treks this week has been these two ducks in the pond. The pond has two things at opposite ends that force air or water (I'm not sure which) to the pond's surface. They're sort of like fountains but they don't spray into the air. Does that make sense? I don't really know what they're for... to keep the water moving? Anyway, the pond is filled with those awful, stupid, nasty Canada geese and a couple of ducks. Most of the park ducks swim in the creek, leaving the pond to the geese, but these two have taken up residence right over the forced air/water thingies. It cracks me up, as I think it must feel like a Jacuzzi! That, or the water's warm right there. But they never move. I actually wondered if they might be dead but I figured if they were, they'd eventually drift to the side or center of the pond. Anyway, they make me laugh every morning, so I thought I'd share. Lucky you!

Let's see... what else? Oh, I got word this morning that the Republican is coming to see me when he's on leave from Afghanistan in January. I'm pretty excited, really, as he's been gone since June and I miss his conservative old self. OK, so I don't actually miss the conservative part but the rest of him is pretty nice.

I'll get to see someone else I miss in two weeks, which I'm pretty excited about. I'm going to Charlotte to see Mel and we're heading to our annual Winter Solstice creativity/writing workshop with our wonderful writing coach, Maureen. It's one of the best parts of my year. Ryan's coming with, not to attend the workshop, but to see her dad for the first time in over a year. I'm not sure she's terribly excited about that, but she's looking forward to seeing her Godmommy, for sure.

That's about it, I guess. I warned you this would be a stunningly mundane post. Oh, wait, I also have to tell you that I've found a little bit of Christmas spirit! I know, you're shocked, aren't you? So am I, honestly. I've been a confirmed Grinch-Scrooge for years now, but this year... well, this year the generosity and love and support I've felt from the people who love me has been nothing short of completely overwhelming. It's changed my outlook all around. I guess that's what you non-heathens might call a Christmas miracle. What.Ever. ;) All I know is I'm happy and it's all good.

Hope you all have a great weekend!!! I'll let you know if it snows... XOXO

Bursting With Pride...

2009-12-02T18:46:00.003-05:00

My kid is so great. I mean, there are days when I want to kick her butt into tomorrow, but overall, I'm pretty blessed. She's so smart and creative and goal-oriented. Her grades are exceptional; she works hard at whatever task she takes on; she's funny and articulate; she's developing compassion and empathy (though that bit is slow-going, I'll admit); and she's already pretty socially liberal. Hell, she even keeps her room clean (she's actually a little obsessive-compulsive about that, though not quite to Monica Geller standards, so I've decided to skip therapy thus far). Some of those qualities come from me... some from her dad (I told you guys he has some good traits)... some come from her 'Godmommy' (or so her Godmommy says... that's Mel, by the way, who likes to claim responsibility for all my child's positive traits)... and some are all hers (that cleaning thing? Yeah... no one knows where the hell that one came from).

You might be wondering about the reason for my brag-fest. Well, remember the 'Beauty Is' poem she wrote for the contest at school? This morning she received a 2nd place award for it! She was so proud of herself because the literature category was judged by a college professor "who probably knows his stuff." She got all sorts of prizes at a breakfast this morning, brought in from Panera Bread for the winners, several of whom are her friends. I was so proud of her.

And you know how I said she was goal-oriented? Well, at our recent GoGirlGo! meetings, Ironwoman has had the girls running two miles. Though we'd like them to do it without stopping, lots of the girls walk quite a bit. It's somewhat disappointing because we really feel they aren't always putting forth their best effort. Well, the other day, instead of two miles, Ryan decided she was going to push herself and do three... which she did... without having to walk at all. And she did it again yesterday. Again, I was so proud to see her set a goal and then really work hard to achieve it.

She's a good kid, my little fart blossom. And I love her so. And when I feel the urge to burst with pride, I do it, 'cause I totally know that day when I'm going to want to kick her butt into tomorrow is coming... 'cause she is Ryan after all...

Wrong Again...

2009-12-01T09:08:00.002-05:00

Not long ago, a workman mistook me for my mother’s granddaughter. My mom was quite put out (understandably) but I was quite tickled (in fact, I think I even snorted with actual glee). I chalked it up to, 1) the fact that my mother looks and feels considerably older than she is and, 2) that I look and feel considerably younger than I am.

Yeah.

Wrong again.

Turns out?

I wasn’t so much youthful-looking as I was, well, fat.

Turns out?

Fat fills out wrinkles.

Turns out?

When said fat is lost, wrinkles appear.

Like magic.

Black magic.

So, now I’m thinner… and older-looking!

Pfffttttt.

I call, “NO FAIR!”

Damn it.

Sigh.

So, does anyone know a good wrinkle-filler-outer (you know, other than me ingesting 4,000 calories a day for the next couple of months)?

I’m just trying to avoid renting the sand-blaster.

Let me know.

Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six...

2009-11-25T11:13:00.005-05:00

Just an easy-peasy countdown post today. It was fun... try it! And you can change it around or add your own categories...

TEN things I’m thankful for...

1. Ryan – that she’s happy, healthy, smart, and independent
2. My friends and family (insane though they may be)
3. Rainy days (and sunny days)
4. My gorgeous, 4-legged, fuzzy boy
5. Weight Watchers
6. Good health
7. Blue Bunny chocolate-raspberry ice cream bars
8. Sex
9. Good books
10. This past year of change, growth, difficulties, joy, and new perspective

NINE things I do every day...

1. Wheeze my way around the park several times
2. Tell my daughter I love her
3. Drink milk
4. Check my email (2,563 times)
5. Hug my dog
6. Daydream
7. Worry
8. Laugh
9. Talk to someone I love via IM or email or my blog or Facebook

EIGHT things I find attractive in a guy...

1. Intelligence
2. A sense of humor
3. A creative streak
4. Honesty and straightforwardness
5. A socially liberal/conscious attitude
6. A great smile
7. A sense of adventure
8. Complete and utter devotion to me! (Duh)

SEVEN things I enjoy doing...

1. Writing
2. Reading
3. Swimming
4. Camping
5. Blogging
6. Traveling
7. Walking/Running

SIX things on my ‘to do’ list for 2010...

1. Take a cardio kick-boxing class
2. Run a 10K
3. Do 2 breast cancer walks with my gorgeous peeps
4. Get a new job with Weight Watchers
5. Give up diet soda for good
6. Turn my non-existent finances into existent ones

FIVE places I want to visit...

1. The Galapagos Islands
2. Australia
3. New Zealand
4. The Scandinavian countries (especially Denmark)
5. Alaska

FOUR things that drive me nuts...

1. Litterbugs
2. People who don’t scoop their dog’s poop
3. When someone leaves the empty toilet paper roll on the thingy
4. Arrogant, closed-minded people (especially when it's me!)

THREE smells I like...

1. Cookies or bread baking
2. Laundry drying
3. Bars in the morning… that stale boozy/smoky smell (it’s weird, I know)

TWO things I find difficult...

1. Forgiving myself
2. Math

ONE thing I want...

1. To feel fulfilled in every area of my life (that's not too much to ask for, right? ;)

To Forgive... Divine?

2009-11-24T00:03:00.004-05:00

Gandhi once said, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” Until fairly recently, I’m not sure I believed that. But I believe it now.

I’ve told you guys that I’ve been attending ‘Divorce Care’ meetings every week, right? It’s a support group for people who have gone or are going through divorce. Some of the group members are still hoping to save their marriages; some know they’re gone and are now trying to figure out how to grieve, let go, and bounce back. Five years out from my split, I didn’t feel I needed any sort of support, but when my neighbor suggested I might get something out of it, I thought I might give it a try. Then I looked over the workbook he had for the class and realized it was a faith-based program. I reminded him that I’m a heathen but he said it really wasn’t too God/religion-oriented, so I agreed to go.

Turns out? My neighbor lied just a wee bit. But it's cool, as the group leader is just wonderful and she has fully accepted my non-Christian presence. She’s incredibly respectful of my views and, of course, I always try to be respectful, too. The people in the group, who are also wonderful, vary from devout to not-so-sure-what-to-think, so I don’t feel too out of place. And while God and religion enter our discussions, the focus is really on just getting through the tangle of feelings that results when a marriage ends.

Each class begins with a video about the topic for the week – topics like loss, financial issues, helping your kids through divorce, new relationships, single sexuality (and let me tell you, when I found out God only wants us to have sex within the confines of marriage, I was ever so glad to be a heathen!), etc. The videos are very faith-oriented, which is understandable, as the program was produced by a church organization. Mostly it’s OK but I get a little peeved at times, as the people in them tend to make blanket statements like, “Without Christ in your life, you simply cannot heal.” Pfffffttttt. Utter arrogance.

What I’ve found out by participating in this group is that I have healed. And I’ve done it beautifully. And though I did it without the ‘benefit’ of Christ or religion or faith in anyone or anything except myself and the notion that things would get better (which is what always has, still does, and forever will get me through), I have done or do nearly everything the people who developed the program think I should be doing (with the exception of, you know, praying to God, and that whole ‘no pre-marital sex’ thing… 'cause that totally isn’t gonna happen, people). It’s all made me feel pretty good, pretty healthy, and pretty happy.

Last week’s discussion was on forgiveness. And I have to admit that five, four, even three years ago, that was one area where I was struggling. But when I wrote my post for Kathy’s Writer’s Workshop the other day, on the moment I knew my marriage was over, and someone asked me how you heal from that sort of betrayal, it hit me like a brick that the answer is...

Forgiveness

The idea of forgiving my ex, however, was incomprehensible to me for a long time. See, I had a few notions about the whole process that turns out? Were wrong.

I thought the person who had perpetrated the wrongdoing had to ask for forgiveness.

Wrong.

I thought the wrongdoer had to apologize first (I certainly wanted the wrongdoer to apologize first!).

Wrong.

I thought by forgiving, I was condoning the wrongdoer’s behavior.

Wrong.

I thought by forgiving, I was opening myself up to being hurt again.

Wrong.

What I realized over time was that forgiveness is actually an incredibly selfish act (or as the lovely Pauline pointed out in my comments section, a 'self-conscious' act, as 'selfish' has negative connotations). And it was one I needed to get familiar with if I was ever going to move past the hurt and anger and on with my life. I realized that forgiveness isn’t really even about the wrongdoer. After all, my anger and inability to forgive wasn’t hurting him. He was living his life, doing what he wanted. He honestly didn’t care whether I forgave him or not (and indeed, I didn’t even tell him when I did it). It was all about me and the negativity I was feeling, and I just had to do it… in my own head and my own heart. I found out that forgiveness is about release… it allowed me to let go of the anger, the pain, and the hurt and move into a better place.

When I forgave him, everything changed. I found strength I didn’t know I had. I felt hope again. Don’t get me wrong… I still had a lot of work to do on myself in order to heal completely (and forgiving myself for all my failings was - and remains - part of that never-ending work), but I could finally take the anger out of the healing process… and that made everything so much easier.

What I didn’t realize was that forgiveness is an on-going process, especially when you’re still tied to the wrongdoer (for all friggin’ eternity). You see, I forgave him for the betrayal – for ending our marriage in an incredibly painful and callous way – but I’ve found myself having to forgive him on a regular basis for lots of other things; for being a completely absentee father; for not paying his child support for nearly a year because he’s been out of work (and yeah, I know that’s not completely his fault, but we’re talking close to $10,000, people, and that’s put a world of hurt on me that I’m having trouble seeing my way out of at the moment, a month before the wallet-suck we call ‘Christmas’); for putting our child in situations where I’ve had to explain the nearly-unexplainable (like why he might have gotten re-married without even telling her); for all manner of things.

The best part, though? Ryan has benefited and, indeed, she seems to just 'get it'. While I have never (nor will I ever) bad-mouthed my ex in any way (well, to Ryan, anyway), I am honest with her. I told her recently that her dad is who he is. He has his good qualities and his bad qualities, the same as everyone. He loves her as much as he’s capable of loving anyone, but he might never be able to connect with her (or anyone else) the way she might like. That he has a hole in his soul which no one but him can repair and until he realizes that, he won’t change. And she has two choices… she can forgive him his shortcomings and accept who he is (the same as she does with me)… or she can cut him out of her life. She gave it some thought (she’s the thoughtful sort, that child of mine) and she decided she’d forgive him and she’d love him because he’s her dad. But she also easily admits she doesn’t know him and she’ll never expect or look to him for the support she gets from me. I hate that it has to be that way but if it does, I think she has a pretty healthy outlook.

So, we’re good. We’re healing nicely, thank you very much. And it’s all because of a little thing called ‘forgiveness’. I don't know if it's divine but I know it's a good thing. And I know Gandhi was right. She’s a tough cookie, my little cookie. And so am I. And we’re gonna be just fine.

Mirror Mirror On the Wall...

2009-11-23T08:52:00.005-05:00

I had a bad dream last night. Well, it was more disturbing than bad, really. Well, no... it was bad. But before I tell you about it, I have a question for you... you know how you can see someone (usually a woman) dressed or made-up in a way that is completely inappropriate for her body type or age and you think, 'My eyes! My eyes!' Heh heh. Just kidding. Sort of. No really, you think, 'Good lord, doesn't she have a mirror?! Can't she see what I see?!'

Yeah. I used to do that.

Then? I found out that mirrors lie. They do.

Last summer, the Republican and I went to this place here called The Frontier Culture Museum. It's cool, really... working farms that depict what life was like during various periods in US history. I think I've told you that the Republican is a photographer, right? He's actually a forensic photographer now but he's made a living for a long time taking pictures of lots of stuff and lots of people. He's good. Anyway, The Frontier Culture Museum is a great place to take pictures and that's what we did. I took pictures of the houses and flowers and farm animals (the sheep and lambs especially, as I love me some wool!). What I didn't know was that while I was taking pictures of those things, the Republican was taking pictures of me.

Lovely.

See, I don't like having my picture taken. I never have. Well, so I'm told, anyway (it's entirely possible that my parents made that up to explain why there are 4,512 pictures of my older brother and only 2 of me... whatever). Regardless, I don't like it now and do my very best to stay on the other side of the camera. If I have to be photographed, though, I prefer pictures that don't capture all of me, or ones that have someone else standing in front of me, and I always have to stand a certain way, to minimize the... well, just to minimize. But when I don't know the pictures are being taken? Gulp.

So, after we got back to the Republican's house, he loaded all his pictures onto his computer and we were looking at them. Imagine my surprise (and by 'surprise', I mean 'horror') when I saw images of me, taken from all angles, without any sort of camouflage or posing. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I felt ill. At first I wondered who that fat woman was... and then, after I realized it was me, I wondered what the hell was wrong with my mirror! How had I not seen all that... all that... ME?!

I joined Weight Watchers very soon after. And I've never looked back. I can't, as the pictures still make me feel sick. I had the Republican send them to me, as we're supposed to have a 'before' picture for WW... but I don't know that I'll ever be able to print one of them out and look at it without wanting to hurl.

So, back to my dream. I'd had a picture taken of me and I was excited to see it, as I've lost about 632 pounds so far, but when I got it? My face was still fat! In fact, I had the whole pelican neck thing going on... you know, where your chin disappears into your neck and your face becomes this big, bloated blobby thing and you look like Jabba the Hutt. The weird thing, though? My face, even at my worst, never looked liked that. It definitely got rounder but I always had a chin (or two) and a neck... and they were always separate. So it was disturbing and bad and I woke up all worried that I really hadn't lost the weight I thought I had.

But my mirror told me otherwise.

Whew.

But...

Mirrors lie.

Well, crap.

I guess I'd better have someone take a picture.

Gulp.

I Have a Confession to Make...

2009-11-21T11:29:00.003-05:00

Remember how I said I was avoiding pie on turkey day because I'm watching my calories?

Yeah.

Well, I sort of lied.

That's not why I won't be eating my normal share of yummy pumpkin goodness this year.

No.

The honest-to-goodness reason?

I found out where pumpkin pie really comes from.

And because I love you all, I thought I'd let you in on the secret...

You're skipping it this year, too, aren't you? Yup. I don't blame you one bit.

It's Friday... Wheeeeeee!

2009-11-20T09:42:00.003-05:00

Wheeeeeeee! I really like writing that (simple things...). And after yesterday's post, which was more, 'Ugggggggh,' I figured a 'Wheeeeeeee!' was in order. And? I just like writing it. I'm pretty sure I'd sound like a dork if I said it out loud. Of course, I spent this morning talking to Ryan in my Professor Dolittle voice (not to be confused with Dr. Dolittle, please), which sounds a whole lot like Daffy Duck (and isn't complete without the spittle spray), so I'm thinking the dork-factor probably isn't much of an issue, huh? When she was really little, Ryan used to laugh and laugh when I did one of my voices (there are many... I have to let them out of my head every now and then... for air... it's stuffy in there, you know). Now she just rolls her eyes, shakes her head, and giggles when she thinks I'm not looking... but I'm always looking... 'cause I'm a mom and I have eyes in the back of my head. Ooooh... funny story...

When we first moved here (when Ryan was 6), we had a house with a big fireplace in the living room. It had a glass 'screen' and at night, if you were sitting on the loveseat, you could see everything behind you reflected in the glass. Well, I've always told Ryan I have eyes in the back of my head... so one night, when she was supposed to be in bed, I noticed movement in the glass and I watched her, without lifting my head from my book, creeping ever so quietly down the hall. What she was doing, I've no idea, but when I hollered, without even looking up, "Get back to bed, you," the look on her face was priceless! She stopped dead in her tracks, turned, and bolted back down the hall. The next day, she spent a fair amount of time running her fingers through my hair, searching for those eyes... :)

Anyway, it's Friday! Wheeeeeeeeee! I don't know why I'm so excited, really, as the only plans I have for the weekend have to do with cleaning. 'Cause I'm told Thanksgiving is next Thursday. And that means there will be people here to eat stuff. I won't be eating much stuff, though. I usually go to Weight Watchers on Thursdays but next week I have to go on Friday... the morning after Thanksgiving. Yeah. I'm totally not eating much on turkey day. So far I've lost the equivalent of a kindergartener, which is mighty cool. I'm going for a third-grader, though, so no pie for me.

I'm not a big fan of Thanksgiving, really (shock and surprise, I know, given how much I love holidays in general... pfffftt). It's not that I don't think being thankful is a good thing... quite the opposite. I just really think you should be grateful for all your blessings every day of the year... and I try to be (though I do forget sometimes). And I don't really see how gorging on enough food to feed a small village in Africa exemplifies gratitude in any way. And the whole 'family time' thing? Well, if you really love your family, have them over for dinner whenever you want! Be grateful with them and for them and feed them turkey and pie on June 11, or March 21, or October 2. And? I hate doing the friggin' dishes! You know? Anyway, that's my take on turkey day. I told you I'm a Grinch, albeit an adorable one (or so I've been told... and yes, I know the Grinch doesn't really apply to Thanksgiving but I couldn't think of a cartoon character that doesn't like turkey... sue me).

Anyway, it's Friday! Wheeeeeeeee! Hope yours is fabulous!! XOXO

Writer's Workshop: In That Instant...

2009-11-18T23:16:00.000-05:00

I haven't done one of Kathy's Writer's Workshops in For.Ever. So I decided to give this week's a go (check out Mama's Losin' It for all the details)...

I chose the prompt:

Describe in 1000 words or less a time when something happened and you knew that life would never be the same

A little over five years ago, my then-husband was finishing up his MBA and Ryan was nearly 5-years-old, ready to begin kindergarten. Life had been pretty crazy for a long time... he’d been working away from home on a big engineering project and going to school at the same time. I was working full-time, taking care of the house, and pretty much raising Ryan alone. So we decided to take a long trip as a reward for working so hard for so long, with no vacations and next-to-no family time together since our daughter’s birth. The destination was easy - England and Scotland. Much of my family lives there and we’d combine a family visit with sightseeing… we’d travel to the town where I was born so Ryan could see a little bit of her heritage and meet some of my favorite people on the planet. Easy.

My then-husband and I agreed that Ryan and I would go for a month and he’d come over two weeks into our trip, after he finished his exams, to spend the last two weeks in the UK with us. It was a great way for me, the (much) more social one in our marriage, to spend time hanging out with my cousins, especially David, my long-time partner-in-all-things-mischievous-and-delinquent and one of the people in my life who really knows me and loves me best. And it was a great way for my then-husband to have some much-needed quiet study/alone-time at home. A perfect compromise.

While I was in England the first two weeks, I spoke to my then-husband on the phone once or twice. This was not unusual. Things had been strained between us for a while. We’d had no time together for a long, long time and when we were in the same house (or state), things were… not right. His calls home during the week had become less-than-frequent and instead of coming home on Fridays and leaving Mondays, he'd been flying in on Saturdays and out on Sundays. I knew things were bad but it was a terribly stressful time... and I'd learned over the years that when my then-husband was stressed, it was definitely not the time to 'rock the boat'. I thought after our trip, after the degrees, after the out-of-town work, after the single parenting, we’d have the time to really work on our marriage. Life would be normal again… happy, even. I was hopeful.

When he arrived in England, I expected my then-husband to be happy to see us – to see me; to be happy to finally be finished with school; to be happy to be on holiday. But he wasn’t happy. He was cold and even more distant than usual. It was noticeable to everyone. Especially to David, my long-time partner-in-all-things-mischievous-and-delinquent and one of the people in my life who really knows me and loves me best. It was uncomfortable. I was sad. And disappointed. And angry. And my hope faltered.

One night, we went out with David and some friends. And my then-husband disappeared for a while. Our friend went to look for him and when he came back into the pub, he told me he’d found him… tucked away in a quiet little corner… on the phone… whispering.

On the phone. He was on the phone. But there was no one to talk to. School was finished. His work project was finished and it was well past normal working hours in the US anyway. He was in another country. But he was on the phone. He was tucked away in a quiet little corner… on the phone… whispering.

In that instant, my hope was gone.

And David, my long-time partner-in-all-things-mischievous-and-delinquent and one of the people in my life who really knows me and loves me best, took my hand and squeezed it. He kissed my forehead, searched my face for the same realization that had dawned on him and, finding it, simply said, “I’m so sorry.”

And I knew in that instant… as I looked into the eyes of one of the people in my life who was always honest with me; who would never cause me pain; who would do anything in his power to keep me from getting hurt; whose face was filled with pain and sympathy and concern and love – all for me…

I knew in that instant that life would never be the same.

I Can See Clearly Now...

2009-11-18T13:53:00.004-05:00

Ryan needs new glasses. I've known it for a few months but they just haven't been in the budget (hell, soap and toothpaste aren't in the budget at the moment... yeah... don't be coming 'round here without your noseplug). Anyway, she's been mentioning her vision issues a bit more frequently in the past two weeks... like this afternoon...

Ry: Man, I really can't see out of these glasses!

Me: I know, honey. I'll make an appointment for you to get your eyes checked next week, I promise.

Ry: No, it's not that.

Me: Oh?

Ry: I just ate popcorn and now my lenses are covered in butter.

Yeah... my kid is blind and a slob. And I've no idea where she gets any of it.

Fa La La La La... oh, bite me

2009-11-17T10:47:00.002-05:00

I swear someone pushed the fast forward button on life recently! The days and weeks have just been whipping past and I’ve been left, turning in circles, mumbling, ‘What? Huh? Who? When? Huh?’ Blognut told me yesterday that Thanksgiving is next week! What? Huh? When? Seriously?! Turns out, she was right! Well, crap. That means Christmas isn’t very far away. Actually, I sort of knew that since, on my walk through the neighborhood with Sundance the other night, I saw four Christmas trees all lit up inside peoples’ houses (yes, I’m a peeker… not to be confused with ‘peeper’, which implies perversion… or ‘pecker’, which implies something else entirely). Anyway, WTF?! Although I don’t think I’m a particularly grouchy person as a rule (honest!), I’m the first to admit that I could totally do without Christmas. Period. For loads of reasons, many of which I’ll probably tell you about in the month to come. But even when I’m not feeling particularly Grinchy, there’s no way in hell I’d put up my tree before Thanksgiving. That’s just wrong. Wrong, I tell you! I think people who have that much holiday cheer ought to be exiled to the North Pole. Damn it. And I’m bracing myself for the onslaught of non-stop Christmas music on the radio starting next Thursday. Actually, in an effort to keep from sticking sharp objects in my ears, I’ll wind up listening to nothing but CDs for a month. It’s a lot better than hearing that stupid ‘Christmas Shoes’ song ninety-eleven times a day. It makes me want to hurl. Shoes. At children. And old people. And Carrie Underwood’s ‘Jesus Take the Wheel’ song? Lordy (no pun intended)! I’d like Jesus to take Carrie Underwood… and beat her senseless with that wheel.

I told you I’m a Grinch.

Someday I’ll be able to travel to exotic locations and spend every Christmas lounging on a beach somewhere, with Julio, my muscular and ever-so-attentive cabana boy, bringing me fruity, tequila-laced drinks ‘til the stars come out, after which I’ll bask in the glow of the moon, while my bronzed god (that'd be Julio again) feeds me coconut-encrusted shrimp and fresh mango. Sigh. Until then? I guess it’ll be a few trips to Target, to spend money I don’t have on things no one needs, which I’ll wrap in expensive, pointless paper that only gets ripped off and thrown in the garbage…

Bah.

Hum-shit.

It's Friday Already?!

2009-11-13T09:19:00.003-05:00

How on earth did that happen?! My last post was Monday and now it's Friday already?! I can't even remember anything that happened this week! It could be the Benedryl-induced fog I've been walking around in for the past few days (my mutant spider bite is still annoying me. Damned mutant spider). And the weather has been quite dismal - cold and rainy - good napping weather. So I think my brain's been dozing on and off since Monday.
I might just make an entire week of it, too (yawwwwwwwwwwwwn).

How about you? How was your week? Any interesting/fun plans for the weekend? Tell me, please... I need to live vicariously through someone with a life!

Monday Mish-Mash...

2009-11-09T18:26:00.003-05:00

Did everyone have a good weekend? If your weather there was anything like here, I'm betting you did... we're back in the 70's. In November. Pfffftttt. It was pretty, though, and good car-washing weather. Since my car hadn't been washed since, oh, last November or so, I figured it was time. Have I mentioned that I hate washing the car? Oh. Right. The whole 'last November' thing probably gave it away, eh? The inside was worse than the outside, though (and that's saying something!). Every week I drive one or two of our little GoGirlGo! girls home and I'm actually embarrassed to let them in the car. It's that bad. And? The thing that embarrasses Ryan even more than the dirt? My glove box hasn't closed in, like, 3 months. The little clip thingy that holds the door shut broke off and fell down inside the dash... which is all one piece... which means that in order to fix it, they have to take the entire dashboard out... which means it will cost a ridiculous amount... which I totally don't have... so it's been wide open for a while now. I told Ryan I could close it with duct tape and she nearly passed out (there is no point at all in having a child if you can't torture her once in a while). So I finally got some putty at Lowe's and stuffed it in the hole, then mashed the glove box shut and held it there for a bit. Voila! The 'airplane meal tray' has now been stowed. Am I smart or what? Yeah, I know... 'or what'. Shut it.

Speaking of our GoGirlGo! girls (who are wonderful, by the way)... the Pigsknuckle Gazette did a great story on us and it came out this weekend, complete with photos. We were so excited! If anyone wants to read it, email me (my address is on my profile page. I'm not going to post the link here, as I don't want to give the whole Internet free access to, well, Pigsknuckle. It's my little corner of Heaven, damn it. But I'll share it with you, my bloggy peeps).

What else? Oh, I got bitten by some sort of large insect-like creature. Well, that's the best I can figure. Either that, or a vampire. The bite (complete with fang marks) is on my collar bone, followed downward by a line of smaller, mosquito-like bites (sans fang marks). All of them are swollen and itch like crazy! My best guess is that it was a spider or one of those weird, alien, spider-cum-cricket bugs. I dunno. And I'm figuring I must have been asleep when it happened, as I'm reasonably certain I'd have noticed a bug that close to my face if I was awake. I sure as hell hope so, anyway. I don't feel bad, nor have I had any seizures or lost the feeling on my left side, so I'm figuring the swelling and itching will go away eventually. Right?

Any more? Yes! I added running to my work-out this weekend. I realized I have to run a 5K on New Year's Eve with our GoGirlGo! group and I'm not ready. So, off I go. Yay me! Except? I walk faster. Seriously. So do the old ladies at the park who lapped me. Twice. But I did it. And I felt great! When I came to. I'm doing interval training, so I run some, walk some, run some, etc. Sundance can even keep up. Of course, that may change when we're actually running more than we're walking.

Last thing... I finally broke down and set-up a Facebook page. This morning, Blognut posted something gross about wanting to lick the centers out of all the Oreos and putting the chocolate cookies back (I know! Do not let that fuzzy blue demon near your Oreos!). So all day I've been singing:

Do you know exactly how to eat an Oreo?
Well, to do it, you unscrew it. Very fast!
'Cause a kid'll eat the middle of an Oreo first
And leave the chocolate cookie outsides for last!

It's driving me up a friggin' wall.

And as Porky says, that's all folks! Hope your weekend was fabulous and your Monday, even better! XO

My Dad Would Have Been Proud...

2009-11-07T11:29:00.003-05:00

Ryan's taste in music tends to encompass the Disney crowd... she loves the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Selena Gomez, Mitchell Musso, and (dare I say it?), Miley Cyrus. And while I'm sure lots of you are cringing in horror or thinking, 'Who?', I have to admit, I'm cool with it. Ryan's only 10 and they're all age-appropriate, cute kids, who, for the most part, haven't yet displayed the dysfunction we've come to expect in teen celebrities. And I don't have to explain their lyrics to my kid, which is a big plus. And if I'm being really honest? I sing along, too, and I'm quite apt to stop to watch Mitchell Musso (who finally got a haircut! Ummm... did I just say that? God, how old am I?!) dance his way through one of his catchy songs in a Disney Channel music video.

Lots of Ryan's friends listen to the same stuff she does. Some don't, though, and our neighbor, who is two years older than Ryan, is one of them. Her taste runs to harder rock, like AC/DC, Guns N' Roses, and Aerosmith - a throwback to her dad's era, I guess. Ryan listens to some of it with her and has found some stuff she likes... and some stuff she can't imagine anyone in his right mind wanting to listen to voluntarily.

Anyway, yesterday, when I picked her up from school, she was telling me about this project she's doing in her computer class... they're doing some graphic design and she's putting together an album cover with images she finds on the Internet. She said she'd been looking around at real album covers to get ideas for what she wanted to do. I asked if she'd found any she liked...

Ry: I thought I might use something from Guns N' Roses, 'cause, you know, I like their Sweet Child o' Mine song...

Me: And?

Ry: Good lord, Mama, do you know what those guys look like?!

Me (laughing): Yeah, I seem to recall...

Ry: Ugh! They made my eyes bleed!

Me (snorting): That bad?

Ry: Yes! They all needed to take a shower! And do laundry!

Me (still laughing): So I take it you didn't use them?

Ry: No! I went with Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon instead. I love that picture.

Me: Yeah... no bleeding eyes with that one, huh?

My dad would have been proud. Of course, he'd have been prouder had her album cover included pictures of Frank Sinatra or Tony Bennett instead! ;)

Synchronicity...

2009-11-04T14:16:00.004-05:00

So, you might have noticed that I've been a little AWOL of late... I'm really sorry but I've been suffering from a nasty case of Writer's Block. It's worse than H1N1, I tell ya, and there's no shot for it (not that I'd get it anyway, as I don't really believe in flu shots... or Writer's Block shots). Anyway, I've been trying to come up with something - anything - to post about. Finally, after suggestions from some lovely Pals O'Mine, I had a few topics floating around in the vast expanse that is my head, but then a neat little synchronicity happened to me today and I decided to tell you about it instead...

Yesterday, one of the guys from my divorce care group sent me an email forward. Now, if you know me at all, you know I really detest email forwards and most often don't even open them before hitting my trusty delete button. This is especially true of those forwards which come from people who only send forwards... yeah, you know the people I'm talking about. But if I get a forward from someone who doesn't normally send them, or who knows my delete rule but feels the email in question is one I'd truly like, I'll read it. I read yesterday's.

It was about friendship and how people come into our lives 'for a reason, a season, or a lifetime' and we're obligated to learn lessons from everyone we meet. That's basically my philosophy about people, so I thought it was cool. At the end of the email (at the part where it strongly urges you to forward it to ninety-eleven of your closest friends), there was a note that said:

"Tomorrow, at exactly 10:35, somebody will address you and tell you something you've been waiting to hear."

OK. Suuuuure. That'll happen.

Delete.

But, a little while ago, just for shits and grins, I checked my email in-boxes... I noticed that at exactly 10:35 this morning, I received an email from a certain blogger I've quite adored for some time now but with whom I don't normally correspond. His email said this:

"well, i miss you. you ok?"

It was addressed to me. And who, in their right mind, isn't waiting to hear someone say, "well, i miss you. you ok?" Only a crazy person, methinks.

And that, my friends, is what I refer to as a synchronicity. And it was an especially warm and fuzzy one at that! XOXO

Boo!

2009-10-31T12:32:00.002-04:00

Happy Halloween, my bloggy buds! Hope your day is bootiful! Hur hur hur. It's blustery but warm here and tonight should be nice for trick-or-treating. Ryan's dressing up as a hippie... sort of. I'm not exactly sure how her costume will turn out, but I'm sure people will still give her candy, so I'm not too worried about it.

Here is what I'll be doing tonight...

Actually, my pumpkin will be filled with wine, I think. Regardless, it'll be consumed while sitting around the fire-pit, handing out candy to all the little ghouls in the neighborhood. I expect the kids who come later in the evening will benefit from my consumption... ;)

Have a great one!! XO

Beauty Is...

2009-10-28T22:17:00.002-04:00

Ryan wrote something for this thing at school - an artsy sort of contest, which accepts entries in the categories of drawing, photography, writing, etc. The subject this year is, 'Beauty Is...'

So, here's what my beautiful 10-year-old came up with...

_______________________________

Beauty Is...

Beauty is... the little things about us that make us smile.
Beauty is... the different colors of the people around us.
Beauty is... the memories we all share.
Beauty is... the pets we all love.
Beauty is... the miracle of life.
Beauty is... the first flower of spring.
Beauty is... the fireflies on a summer night.
Beauty is... the fall leaves blowing in the wind.
Beauty is... the mountains in the winter.
Beauty is... the world.

Beauty is.
_______________________________

Yeah. She's cool.

Perfect...

2009-10-28T09:32:00.002-04:00

Sounds like a pretty perfect life to me... and pretty simple, too (yeah, I know... things aren't always what they seem, are they?). So, what's your perfect life? Are you living it?

You Better Stock Up on Light Bulbs, Mel...

2009-10-26T15:33:00.006-04:00

I can't believe it's Monday already but my calendar and my email say it is... so it must be. This weekend went by in a bit of a blur and I'm shocked it's over already. Mark's funeral, of course, took up a big portion of it. As I've said a few times since, it was awful and wonderful at the same time. It's always awful to say good-bye to someone you love, especially when they're gone too soon (and it's always too soon when you love someone, isn't it?). But it was wonderful for a few reasons... first, although I knew that Mark's amazing attitude and gifts of humor and love were far-reaching, I didn't realize just how far-reaching. I saw and heard and felt just how loved he was... and how much good he did in his 44 years. Well, I'm sure we only scratched the surface, as there wasn't enough time to tell all the stories that would have been necessary to give the big picture, but the picture was clear nonetheless.

As I sat in the church on Saturday, listening (and crying), I started taking stock of my own life (as one is wont to do when faced with mortality, eh?). I wondered if, when I die, there will be hundreds to mourn me; if there will be story after story of my good works and my good humor and my selflessness.

And I wasn't sure the answers would be 'yes'.

I don't want someone to stand up at my funeral and say, "Well, she had good intentions" ('cause most likely it'd be Mel and she'd totally want to make fun of me and then she'd get in some sort of jab about how I once thought epito-ME and epi-TOME were two different words and then I'd look stupid and then I'd get mad and I'd have to haunt her and blow out all her light bulbs and that'd just zap the extra energy I'm going to need to haunt my ex and blow out all his light bulbs and... ummm... what was I saying?).

Oh, right... back to the intentions thing... my intentions are and have always been good. My actions, though, have not always exemplified my intentions. And I can think of loads of excuses for why this is the case, but you know what? That's just what they are... excuses. Mark had real reasons for sitting on his butt (literally, as he spent the last long while in a wheelchair)... but he didn't. Instead, he did. He did what was asked of him and, more often, what wasn't. He saw a need - that of a single person or of an entire community - and he did what needed doing to meet that need. He gave of himself, even when he was physically weak and he had to feel there was little to give. He helped other people, even when he was suffering. He talked a load (and his talk was often punctuated by the filthiest jokes, which is one of the things I loved most about him... and why Mel called him, appropriately, her 'wholly inappropriate friend'), but he didn't just talk the talk... he walked the walk, even when he couldn't walk anymore.

This weekend caused me to stop and take a look at my life. It caused me to realize how much I value and miss friends I've had for half my life but don't see nearly enough. It caused me to want to make some changes. I've come a long way in the last year, I think, but not far enough. Mark's faith in God and himself took him to Africa, where he made many changes. I'm not sure I need to do that (though Maithri, if you have space on your next trip to Swaziland, I'm in, baby!), but my faith in Mark and myself tells me I can do far more than I'm doing.

So I'm on a mission to find more. I need to find more... 'cause I totally don't want Mel to spend 15 minutes of my eulogy devoted to my 'epitome' mistake.

Oh hell, who am I kidding? She'll do it anyway. Crap.

Walk With the Dreamers, My Friends...

2009-10-22T22:24:00.005-04:00

I post this in honor of my friend, Mark Franklin Warren, who died long before anyone who loved him was ready to lose him, but who lived his life fully - with great love, compassion, humor, and amazing (such amazing) strength... who not only walked with the dreamers, the believers, and the courageous, but who was a dreamer, believer, and courageous... and who most definitely left this world far better than he found it. We should all be so brave... and so lucky!

I leave tomorrow for his funeral, which is taking place Saturday morning. It's the last place I thought I'd be this weekend. It's certainly the last place I want to be. But although I know the tears will be flowing freely, I know the laughter will be as well. Because even in deep grief, it would be impossible to honor our friend without expressing the great joy he brought to our lives.

Take care, my bloggy friends... and do me a favor, will you? Laugh a lot this weekend, in honor of Mark, OK? I'll see you soon... XO

I Love You Always...

2009-10-20T10:14:00.013-04:00

Last night, my friend Mark died.

He was a wonderful guy - one of the funniest, most caring people I've ever known. I met him more than 20 years ago, when I was living in Richmond and working with his best friend and roommate. For the longest time, I actually thought they were gay, which turned out to be a long-running, quite hilarious joke. They weren't... Mark, in fact, loved women... loved them... and when we'd be out in a bar or a restaurant, he'd marvel at how I would zero in and comment on exactly the woman he had noticed. I never told him, but it really wasn't that hard. If she was breathing, he noticed!

Mark was a groomsman in my wedding. He always called me Lady Di and just after the rehearsal dinner, the night before the wedding, he said to me, "Lady Di, here's a check... a blank check... it's yours if you just don't marry Rob." I just laughed, as we'd always had a silly, somewhat flirty relationship (as he did with loads of women) and I thought he was teasing. But I found out later he was only half-kidding that night. Clearly he was prophetic as well.

When my marriage ended, he was there to lend a shoulder, his humor, and his love... as always. He had a heart as big as the sky and he was always opening it up to the people he loved and people he didn't even know. He did mission work around the world and he made friends wherever he went. You could always count on him for a helping hand, an encouraging word, or a seriously dirty joke!

His death was unexpected. I'm stunned... reeling. I spoke with him recently and he sounded great, even though his father had just passed away. But Mark was an optimist through and through... a light in an otherwise dark day. I'm looking for that light today.

You were loved by many, my friend, and you always will be. You touched so many lives and made every one of them better. You will be missed... so very missed.

Rest in peace, dear Marky-Mark. I love you always... XOXO

Lady Di

Don't Mess With Your Mama...

2009-10-18T20:22:00.005-04:00

This weekend has been unseasonably cold and incredibly dreary. Truth be told, I quite like this weather, as long as it doesn't go on too long, but Ryan's not a fan. She didn't even get out of her pajamas yesterday. Around 10:30 this morning, as she was snuggled under her covers (again, still in her pajamas) reading, I reminded her that we had swim practice at 1:30. She groaned. Although the older kids practice at 3:00, because I coach the younger kids at 2:00, she has to spend two hours at the pool instead of one. She doesn't mind if her friends are there, too, but they usually don't show up until the later practice, so she has to hang out and be bored. In any case, as she really wasn't keen on the idea of getting up and moving today, I was met with a response like fingernails on chalkboard...

"But I don't waaaaaaaaant toooooooooo..."

Ugh. I hate whining, which she knows all too well, so she quickly changed her tune. She figures if she can make me laugh, she stands a better chance of getting her way (which sometimes works, but not if my mind is made up). We joked back and forth about 1) the fact that she was going, whether she wanted to or not, and 2) the fact that she really didn't want to go. After a tickle/giggle-fest, she resorted to the age-old kid trick for causing supreme annoyance...

Me: Stop being silly. You're going.
Ry: Stop being silly. You're going.

Me: You've been a slug all weekend. You need the exercise.
Ry: You've been a slug all weekend. You need the exercise.

Me: Why are you repeating everything I say?
Ry: Why are you repeating everything I say?

Me: That's really annoying, you know.
Ry: That's really annoying, you know.

Me: If you keep annoying me, I'll make you swim both practices.
Ry: If you keep annoying me, I'll make you swi... oh.

Yeah. Mama wasn't born yesterday.

Do What You Love... Love What You Do...

2009-10-15T21:28:00.006-04:00

If you've been following this blog for any time, you know I was really struggling a while ago to get myself out of a rut. I felt like I was standing still. I wasn't miserable... but I wasn't happy either. My work, though it allows me to use some of my talents, is, on the whole, not terribly fulfilling. The problem, however, has been that I haven't been able to figure out exactly what sort of work would feed my soul. I was searching for one big job that would allow me to marry all my skills, talents, and passions. I just knew that when I found it, I'd be happy; I'd actually want to go to work; I'd be fulfilled. Finally.

Right.

Wishful thinking.

I did start to feel as though I was on the verge of a major breakthrough for a while... like I was so close to figuring it all out. But you know that feeling you get when the word you've been trying to think of is on the tip of your tongue but it just won't come?

Yeah. That's how I felt.

So I stopped worrying about it. I decided that I needed to just do something... anything... that would bring me out of my self-absorbed stupor. So I started fund-raising and training for the Booby Walk. I spent every summer evening at the pool with my little sinkers. I started Weight Watchers so I could focus on my health. I did things instead of just thinking about doing them.

And you know what? It worked!

I got out of my rut... and I didn't just climb out of it... I leaped out! I found myself not focusing so much on what was missing in my life - on what I wanted - and I started seeing what I had to give. And I realized, while doing instead of thinking, that I wasn't going to find one job that suited me. My skills and talents and passions are diverse. And that's a good thing!

Working with the kids in the pool every week gives me great joy. And our GoGirlGo! running group has started with a bang! Ironwoman and I are enjoying it immensely. The group of 5th-grade girls we have the privilege of mentoring is amazing... they cover every ethnicity and socio-economic class... they are gorgeous and smart and strong... and we're helping them to be even more so. What we're doing is good... and it's important... and it's humbling... and it definitely feeds my soul.

The Breast Cancer Walk affected me to an unquantifiable degree. It gave me the opportunity to become a part of something so much bigger than myself. And I needed that. I need that still. Next year I'm walking in DC again with Ironwoman and I've talked to my sister-in-law and a friend, both nurses, about volunteering on the medical team. I'm also walking in Chicago with my beloved Blognut and She, both of whom I only know through blogging, but both of whom have become like my sisters. My soul is filling up rapidly.

My Weight Watchers adventure has been just remarkable. I look forward to every meeting and I'm making the most wonderful friends. I've decided that once I hit my goal, which should be in a few months, I want to work for them... I want to be the person who leads the meetings and helps other people reach their goals. I am certain my soul will reach capacity.

And today I had a meeting with one of the directors at our city rec center. I'm going to get the opportunity this winter to facilitate the creativity / writing classes I told you about a while ago! I'm going to do one for kids, centered around developing a super hero character and story; one for seniors, to help them to write their life stories; and two for adults, based loosely on The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron, to help them find their creative voices, the way I was helped, eight years ago, when I so desperately needed it. I'm guessing my soul will simply overflow.

So, as I said, I didn't wind up finding one job to sustain me. I found five. Will they make me rich? Nope. But I never wanted to be rich. I only wanted to be happy... to enjoy the journey.

And you know what?

I am!

XOXO

One Small Step for Breast Cancer Research...

2009-10-12T19:41:00.007-04:00

One colossal step for Diane! I'm back, my loves, from the wilds of DC and the Booby Walk. And yes (she says, patting herself on the back), I walked every step of every mile -- all 60 of them! And yes, I'm limping everywhere today. But it's all good... really.

The Susan G. Komen 3-Day Event (also known as '0-60 in 3 days!') was... well... 'amazing' doesn't really cover it. Actually, I can't find a word that describes the event with any degree of accuracy. I spent the weekend feeling completely overwhelmed... in the best possible way. I laughed... hard. I cried... often. I was humbled by the stories I heard... every one.

The breast cancer walk was the biggest thing I've ever had the privilege to be a part of. It was certainly the most challenging thing I've ever done physically. And it was hard. I hurt. All over. A lot. Everyone did. But it was also hard to complain when you talked to the people there... the walkers (women who have survived cancer, women going through chemo now, women and men over 70-years-old, women and men with disabilities and/or pre-existing injuries) - people who gave 200%, even if they weren't able to walk every mile; the crew - the people who did everything for us for 3 days, always with huge smiles and encouragement and so much love; the people who stood in their driveways or on street corners, cheering us on, thanking us for walking, offering water and candy and bathrooms.

I wish I could find the words to explain how I feel right now. I'm not sure that I've completely processed everything I saw and heard and felt and experienced. It might take a few days (and I'm sure you'll hear more about the whole event over the next week or so). I know that this post will not even begin to do justice to how I'm feeling but I can tell you that the weekend was life-affirming... life-changing. It has given me a new perspective on, well, everything. This was my first walk but I can tell you that it will not be my last. I think I'm going to do 2 next year... and though I'll do it alone again without hesitation, I'd love to have someone join me. So if anyone is interested... you know where to find me!

Here are a few pictures from the weekend...

This is Debbie and Shelley, the two fantastic women who adopted me for 3 days! I sidled up to Debbie on the train into the city when I noticed her pink hair. She's a breast cancer survivor (this was her 3rd walk) and Shelley, her cousin once (or six times) removed, is an ovarian cancer survivor. They were won.der.ful!

This was my favorite crew member... he was part of our 'moto patrol', which was a group of men and women who monitored our route via motorcycle, stopping to cross us at dangerous intersections. They all wore crazy outfits and played music, danced, and encouraged us beyond belief. They kept us going when we thought we couldn't go anymore!

I'm hoping these girls are going to start selling these knitted booby hats... I'm SO ordering one!

This is where we slept... imagine seeing over 1,000 pink tents! So very cool!

During the closing ceremonies in front of the Lincoln Memorial, all the walkers raised their shoes to the survivors... it was an incredibly touching moment (as were they all)...

And this is me, at the finish... tired, proud, happy, and eternally grateful for the entire experience...

It's Almost Time...

2009-10-07T09:04:00.002-04:00

I'm leaving tomorrow night for DC! It's so hard to believe that after the months of preparation, the miles and miles (and miles) of walking, the 4 pairs of shoes I've blown through, and all the donations you wonderful people contributed, the Booby Walk is finally here! And wouldn't you know... I woke up this morning feeling like crap. Actually, I went to bed feeling like crap and I woke up feeling much the same way. I'm really hoping it's just something stupid, like fall allergies, but I took Tylenol (which wouldn't work if it was allergies) and I feel a bit better. Not a good sign. However, this is going to be a mind over matter... err... mind over cold/flu/whatever the hell ick it is, thing. Damn it. I might get home on Monday and die in my bed, but I'm on my way tomorrow night, come Hell or high water (or the sniffles, fever, creeping-crud, etc). Damn it!

So, today I'm scrambling to get craploads of stuff done ('cause I wouldn't be Diane if I didn't leave everything to the last minute, that's why). Wish me luck (with everything)... I'm gonna need it. And thank you, thank you, thank you all for the support you've shown... donation-wise and encouragement-wise! You guys are the best!

I'll be back on Monday, with a full report and photos! See you then! XOXO

Liar, Liar!

2009-10-05T14:29:00.004-04:00

It's me again. Back for about 5 minutes. I'm pitiful, I know. I keep telling you I'm back and... I'm not. I keep telling you that I'll get around to reading everyone's blogs... and I don't. You're all thinking, 'Liar, liar, pants on fire!' Aren't you? It's OK, you can say it. I won't be offended. I suck.

Life has just sort of taken over right now. Most of it's good... some of it's not so good (but I'm trying really hard to keep those bits at bay). Work is up and down (wish it was more up) but I've got some new projects in the works (more about them when they come a little closer to fruition). The Booby Walk is this weekend (gulp) and I'm readying my butt (and heel) for 60 miles. Wish me luck! GoGirlGo! starts tomorrow, with (so far) about 25 5th-grade girls participating. I'm excited about that and (kind of) looking forward to training for our 5K in 12 weeks. I'm still in the pool every week with the little ones, getting splashed and kicked (and hugged) and loving every minute of it. I've started going to a weekly divorce care group with my neighbor. Though I don't know that I'll get much from it, as I'm pretty far out from my split (5 years), I think one or two people in the group might be benefiting from my experience, and helping people always gives me the warm fuzzies, so I'll keep going. I'm still doing Weight Watchers faithfully each week. I'm absolutely loving it, have been enormously successful (no pun intended)so far, and I've even made a couple of great, funny new friends there as well. And I've got a big old (boring) book to finish for my man-book club and a list of events happening with the social networking club.

I'm a little tired, truth be told, and after writing all that out, I kind of understand why. I hope you'll understand why I've been scarce lately... and I hope you'll cut me some slack. I will be back... I promise. Really and truly. No lying.

And now I have to run out the door to pick up Herself. Later, 'gators! Love you, miss you, see you soon! XO

Humility Shumility...

2009-09-30T09:54:00.002-04:00

So, this morning Ryan came out of her room dressed in jeans we bought at the end of the summer and this yellow, flowy, gauzy top with a headband to match... super cute outfit.

Me: Oh, you look pretty!

Ry (very nonchalantly): I know.

...

Me (snorting): Ummm... honey? Do you know what 'humility' means?

Ry: Yeah. It means not being too full of yourself.

Me: Riiiiight...

Ry (light dawning): Ohhhh...

Me: Let's try this again, shall we? You look very pretty today!

Ry (grinning): Thank you, Mama!

She's not terribly humble but damn, I wish I'd had her confidence at ten. Or now.

I'm so behind on my reading, my bloggy peeps, but I'll catch up soon! Promise!

We're Fine...

2009-09-27T12:51:00.002-04:00

Thanks for all the well-wishes, my bloggy buds! They were, as always, much appreciated! We're fine. Ryan's ick turned out to be, not H1N1, but a nasty virus. All that remains of it is a cough with a heavy cringe-factor... that is, it sounds like she's going to bring up a lung every time she does it. But she's back to her smart-ass self (dunno where she gets that), so it's all good (and by 'it's all good', I mean, 'now that she's feeling better, I don't feel bad for kicking her butt for being a smart-ass').

My computer woes got sorted, thanks to my ever-so-helpful Computer Dude. I've considered asking him to marry me, except that he's kind of old, married already, and he smells a little funny. So I've decided I'm just going to see him every 6 months and he can do some preventative maintenance on my 'puter. It seems I know just enough to be dangerous... and not enough to actually solve any problems. Much like many other people, it seems (which is probably why Computer Dude drives a Mercedes).

Anyway, I've got to leave for swim practice in a few, so I'll be back in Bloggyland tonight or tomorrow. Hope everyone's great!!! XO

Sigh...

2009-09-21T08:08:00.000-04:00

My computer has crashed and Ryan has the Swine Flu. I'll be back... eventually...

And the Answer Is...

2009-09-18T22:23:00.002-04:00

Holy moly! When I wrote my last post, asking for questions, I was worried no one would want to know anything about me and I’d feel all rejected and sad. You guys outdid yourselves!! Thank you! Here are my answers…

Swenglishexpat: Can you explain the recent surge in campaigns against Obama with a distinct racist (under)tone? What are they trying to do? Ruin the American reputation again?! Where do all these insane people come from? (Sorry that was more than one question. Oops!)

I think this question warrants its own post. So I’m going to answer it on Monday.

Blognut:

What color is your toothbrush?

I had to go look… yellow and white.

Are you right-handed or left?

I’m bi-handed. I write with my right and do everything else with my left. I even did a post on it a long time ago…

Pedicured or unpolished?

Feet. Blech. Feet give me the heebie-jeebies (some way more than others) so I try to make mine as attractive as possible. So, polished.

Most embarrassing moment?

Just one? OK, I think it has to be the time I entered the school cafeteria, right after gym class, with my skirt tucked into my underwear. That was bad.

Baseball hat or tiara? (Heh, I KNOW THIS ONE!)

I’ve never been, nor will I ever be, a princess. Or a baseball player. But the baseball cap keeps the rain out of my eyes when I’m trekking through the park with my dog.

Do you love Blognut?

With all my heart.

She:

What's your all time favorite movie? (and why?) I wouldn't be a teacher if I didn't ask why!!!

I have a huge list of favorites, all for different reasons. But one of my all time favorites is A Time to Kill, based on the John Grisham book. There’s a bit of dialogue in it, delivered by Donald Sutherland, about how the murder case being tried is unusual because justice is served regardless of the verdict. If Samuel L. Jackson’s character is convicted of killing the men who brutally raped his little girl, justice is served. If he is acquitted of the same crime, justice is also served. I struggled with how I felt about that moral dilemma while reading the book and I loved how it was pointed out as an integral part of the story. And I loved how it turned out. And I loved Matthew McConaughey, too. Duh.

All-time favorite book (same as above with the why and all)?

How can I possibly pick?! Every time I read something great, it becomes one of my favorites! I’ll give you one of the very first books that ever showed up on my list, though… A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. I’ve read it about 25 times over the years. I loved (and still love) how Sarah Crewe lost everything except her grace, dignity, and sense of right and wrong. And in the end, the Universe rewarded her with good things… because that’s how things should work out.

Favorite food or meal you'd want on your birthday?

The Republican took me out for my birthday in February, to my favorite restaurant… and I can’t remember what I ordered. I guess I’d have to say whatever looks good on the menu right at that moment! Well, that and Pinot Noir or Merlot. Duh.

What kind of birthday cake do you always want?

I haven’t had a birthday cake in a very long time. It’s one of those ‘aww, anything would be good’ things. But not ice cream cake. I don’t like ice cream cake. You either have cake or ice cream or cake and ice cream… but ice cream, in and of itself, is not cake.

And do you like red velvet cupcakes or no ('cause I can't stop eating the damn things!)?

No. Blech. I think it’s the color that bothers me. They’re all… bloody. It’s sort of like how I can’t drink Mountain Dew because it looks like pee.

Do you get magazine subscriptions? If so, which ones?

I read loads of magazines… BH&G, More, Oprah, Real Simple, Experience Life, Healthy Living, Prevention, Traveler, Time, Newsweek, and I pick up a few others if I something on the cover catches my eye (Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone)… oh, and if I’m feeling rich, I buy a few of the UK home magazines at B&N (but they’re, like, $6 or $7 each, so I have to be feeling really rich).

Do you read New York Times online or another online news source? Or do you just watch on TV?

I never watch TV news. I read news all over the Internet, from all different sources, conservative and liberal (is there any such thing as a truly impartial news report anymore?). I like to get both sides and try to sort out the real story for myself.

Have you wrestled lately? ;-)

Sadly, no. And I’ve no idea when I’ll get the opportunity to wrestle again. And I’m getting ‘wrestless’ (snort)!

Do love She? You know, like you love your Blognut?

I do. Totally.

Jenera:

What color socks do you normally wear?

White athletic socks, mostly because I’m always in running shoes. I do not wear white athletic socks with other shoes, though. I’m no fashionista but I’m not completely inept in the clothes department either!

What did you want to be when you grew up?

A writer. Always a writer.

If you were on death row, what would your final meal be?

I think I’d probably want to throw up pretty much perpetually in the days prior to my execution, so my last meal likely wouldn’t be necessary. Or maybe a dose of Emetrol -- that stuff you take to make you stop throwing up.

If you could commit any crime knowing you would not get caught, what would you do? (Jenera, do you have something you’d like to tell us?)

I’d like to think that even knowing I wouldn’t get caught, my conscience would get the better of me and I wouldn’t commit any sort of crime. But right at this moment? I’m thinking robbing a bank looks pretty good.

Lakeviewer: I'm curious about your home town. Is it real?

This made me laugh. Pigsknuckle is not the name of my town, no. It’s a (mostly) affectionate nickname for the small city in which I live. Nestled in the Shenandoah Valley, it’s surrounded by cows and inhabited by many (many) people of the conservative and/or redneck persuasion. I make fun of it a lot, but truly, it’s a beautiful place. It’s growing in lots of good ways. It’s a university town, not terribly far from DC and Richmond, so it’s not exactly a cultural wasteland (though we could improve dramatically in that area). Overall, it’s a pretty nice place to live.

Ronda: Do you plan on living in Pigsknuckle long?

I don’t know. I never, ever thought I’d come back. When I did, I gave myself two years to sort out my life and figure out where I wanted to go. Two years have turned into four, though. Ryan has carved a nice little niche for herself here and that’s really important to me. She’s happy and stable and I don’t want that to change. I’m trying now to carve the same sort of little niche for myself since I can’t afford to live in the place I’d really like to be (England), and moving to one of the states I love (Washington, Oregon, Maine) puts me thousands of miles (read: even farther) away from nearly everyone I know and love.

Stu Pidasso:

Do you think you will handle Ryan's wedding day well when you are forced to stay in a room with the ex for more than a few moments?

For as much as I dislike my ex; for as much as I think he’s a crap human being and a crap father, Ryan loves him. I will do anything to make sure she never has to suffer the discomfort that people with divorced parents who can’t get along have to endure. This overall feeling is what drove me through our split, even though it nearly killed me at times. But it was worth it. As far as she knows right now, we are friends. And if I have my way, she will always believe that. But even if she learns the truth one day, I will still always put on a happy face when he’s around for her sake. I’ve met his girlfriends with a smile on my face. He even used to stay in our house when he came to visit. I would never put her in a position where she felt she had to choose between us or where she didn’t want us together for fear of how we’d behave. Never. It would be incredibly unfair to her and colossally immature of us.

Will you actually dance with the ex when it is time for the parents to dance?

I dance badly and he dances worse than I do… but yes, if that’s what Ryan wants, that’s what she’ll get. And I’ll do that with a smile, too!

Are you dreading the whole boyfriend/driving/teen independence happening that is slowly creeping up on you?

I don’t know that I’m dreading it exactly. But it worries me. I don’t want to see her heart broken; I don’t want to see her have to deal with peer pressure when it comes to alcohol or drugs or sex; I don’t want her anywhere near a car! But, as with everything where Ryan is concerned, I’ll take it one day at a time and do the best I can. So far we’ve done pretty well and I have to believe (and hope and pray) we’ll continue in that manner!

Tabitha: What are your policies as a mom on teen dating? Yay or Nay?

I don’t know how or why a parent would stop teens from dating. Now, I don’t think she should be able to date at 13, certainly. But when she’s older, say 15 or 16, I’m OK with it. There will be rules, of course, and penalties for breaking them. And you can rest assured she will know everything there is to know about sex, contraception, STDs, etc, long before her first date (not that I think teenagers ever have sex, especially when you tell them not to!). Seriously, though, I do believe knowledge is power and I want her to be as powerful as she can be. And I’m doing everything I can now, and have done since she was little, to ensure she has a strong sense of who she is and her inherent value as a person and as a ‘woman-in-training’, in the hope that she won’t turn to sex or drugs or alcohol for any sort of validation. But teen dating? Sure. With set limits, I think it’s a healthy, normal, natural part of growing up.

Mo.Stoneskin: What does a pint of Guinness cost in Pigsknuckle, or is it still impossible to find?

I can’t find anywhere in Pigsknuckle that sells actual pints… but a can or draft (or draught, for those of you sticklers for beer etiquette), or one of those rattley bottles will run you around $5.

Protégé: What made you start this blog (or blogging) and why did you pick the blogger site?

I started the blog to keep my friends and family updated, so I wouldn’t have to send out emails all the time. But then I found you guys and this amazing community and my blog took on a life of its own. And almost no one in my family reads it anyway! As for why I picked Blogger, I have no idea. Someone must have suggested it to me… or I could have found it on my own, by Googling…? I really don’t remember.

Anonymous (Alan, perhaps?): Did you ever have that 'coffee' date with the young pup?

Like I wouldn’t have already told you if I had! But no, I haven’t. Not yet, anyway…

Another Anonymous: Do you think you'll ever get married again?

I don’t know. I wouldn’t rule it out, certainly. But the institution of marriage doesn’t hold the same significance for me that it used to. I believe strongly in commitment; I believe in monogamous relationships (they’re the only ones I’ll be involved in); I believe that if one or both people feel the need to recognize their commitment to one another in front of the church or state (or everyone they know), they should… absolutely. But as I’ve said before, I don’t believe in the church and I have little respect for the state, so I don’t think a formal marriage is necessary to cement a relationship. I found out the hard way that cement can crumble. But do I think I’ll ever be in love again? Or in a committed relationship again? I damn-well hope so! I absolutely want the warmth, comfort, security, excitement, and love of a real, solid, committed relationship. And the sex. I want the sex, too. Lots (and lots) of sex.

Justsomethoughts (welcome back, darlin’!): What do you like most about yourself?

That’s a hard one. I’ve gone through periods where I haven’t liked very much about myself at all. But I guess I’d have to say my sense of humor. I got it from my dad and he was damned funny. Sometimes I misplace it or forget where I left it, but it usually shows up on my doorstep before I miss it too much.

Chris: You can invite any four people (dead or alive) to have dinner with. Who do you choose and why?

Eleanor Roosevelt… I think she was an amazingly strong and intelligent woman who wasn’t always given her due.

Maya Angelou… I think she is the personification of grace and warmth and I love her ‘voice’.

Anne Frank… I’d like to know how she feels about becoming one of the most significant voices of our time.

Gerard Butler… because the man is hot and I might stand a chance against two old ladies and a little girl.

Who? What? Where? When? Why? How?

2009-09-18T09:40:00.002-04:00

OK, so in my travels around Blogland, I've seen a number of posts where the writer takes questions from the readers. I've always thought these sorts of posts were a little on the narcissistic side BUT I've also always enjoyed reading them... and truth be told, we all have a touch of narcissism in us, don't we? I mean, that's why a lot of us blog... we talk about ourselves and our lives and we get feedback from other people... who talk about themselves and their lives... and so on. And all of you, like me, enjoy your little glimpses into other peoples' lives, right? Why else would we do it?

So, at the risk of being labeled a narcissist (and because I got nothin' in the way of a post right now), I'm going to ask you to submit questions... anything you want to know about yours truly (as if I haven't told you enough already). As I tell Ryan, no topic is off limits (well, no topic I can think of at the moment)... personal, political, religious, mommyhood, serious, silly... whatever. Just don't be mean (Alan)!

You can ask in the comments section or via email (dhd2581@yahoo.com). And I'd love to hear from some of those lovely lurkers who visit every day but never say a word... feel free to ask Anonymously, if you'd like... just don't be mean (Alan!).

I can't wait to see what some of you come up with! And in the meantime, have a great weekend!!! XO

Sugar and Spice...

2009-09-16T12:48:00.003-04:00

I'm not a girly-girl. I never have been. I did play with dolls when I was little but I never did the whole ruffles and lace thing. I've never understood how some women can take 4 hours to get ready to go out, or those who can't even go to the grocery store without make-up. Pffftttt. I can get ready in 30 minutes, from shower to door... of course, it probably shows. I mean, I do wear make-up... but it's only in an effort to cover the flaws. And I don't mind getting dressed up every now and then... especially if there's a nice restaurant involved. And I do occasionally wear heels... but if I'm being really honest, that only came about when they started making jeans so damned long (I don't hem).

Anyway, as I say, I'm not a girly-girl.

I didn't expect to have a girly-girl either. When Ryan was a baby, I did dress her in pink... but mostly because she looked like a boy and her name is, well, Ryan. But those cutesy ruffly socks that most little girls can carry off? Nope. She looked retarded in them. I loved her in dresses, but never the fancy, flouncy ones. She never, ever played with dolls, preferring her stuffed animals, and given the choice between a tea party and climbing trees, the trees always won (still do, in fact).

But she's 10 now... in middle school. She's noticing boys (remember Kevin?). She's beginning to care what she looks like. Great. Today is picture day at school. And it seems the 'look' is incredibly important this year. The other day she told me she'd been 'browsing' on the online site for one of the department stores here and she found a to-die-for cute top in hot pink and just the right shade of brown (more mahogany than cherry, you know) to go with her gauchos and could we go get it and she'd even use her birthday money... breathe.

Lovely.

So we got it (with her money, as it cost more than most of my clothes and that just wasn't happening). And then? Last night she asked me if I'd curl her hair this morning.

Me.

Curl her hair.

Me... the very non-girly-girl who doesn't do curls. I do ponytails. And braids. And I can get tangles out like nobody's business. But curls? Crap.

But I tried. She's like me, though, and has more hair than any human has a right to and it's long and there's a lot of it and it's long. And there's a lot of it.

But I tried.

You know what she said when I was finished?

"It's OK, Mama. You're really good at lots of other stuff."

Sigh.

But my girly-girl sees my shortcomings and she loves me anyway. How lucky am I?

Don't You Just Hate It When You Get Sand In Your Ears... and Your Underwear...?

2009-09-15T09:30:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was a pretty bad day, even for a Monday. There's this issue I'm dealing with right now (and have been for some time, actually) that is, quite frankly, kicking my ass. I'm tired and worried... my head hurts... my heart is all achy. It's frustrating, really, because by nature I'm a problem-solver. But there are certain issues - ones that are a little (or a lot) scary and seem insurmountable - that cause me to be an ostrich. I figure if I ignore them, they'll go away. Stupid, eh? They never do go away (duh!)... and eventually I pull my head (and the rest of me) out of the sand and try to make things better. So today, Tuesday, I've dumped about 11 pounds of sand out of my ears and underwear and I'm trying to get myself on track.

Here's to Tuesday... another day... another chance to sort things out...

Falling...

2009-09-14T09:36:00.007-04:00

I love the seasons – all of them – and I could never live in a place where they don’t change. How dull would that be? I’m almost always happy for one season to end and another to begin, as the dawn of each new one tends to make me feel that all things are possible… well, that lots of things are possible, anyway. And each season has its own special appeal. Here are some of the things I love about fall…

Sleeping with the window open and being able to snuggle under the blankets...

Sundance’s new lease on life in the cool temps, so I don’t have to drag his butt around the park...

Magazine ads for cozy sweaters and wooly coats...

All the mosquitoes finally die (yeah, bite me, PETA)...

Sitting around the fire-pit on chilly Saturday evenings with a glass of wine, bundled in a sweater...

All the new television shows premiere...

Fall festivals and wine tastings and ‘arts and crap’ fairs and wine tastings...

Raking leaves just to watch all the kids in the neighborhood jump in them...

Cooking homemade soup (I love me some soup!) and eating it with warm, crusty bread...

Driving along the Skyline Drive and oohing and ahing at the patchwork of warm color that replaced acres of green velvet...

I love it all… the colors and the smells and the sounds and the dark evenings and the crisp air… knowing it’ll be gone too soon, so I have to enjoy every minute of it…

So, what do you love about fall?

Dear Jon and Kate... Shut Up!

2009-09-11T09:26:00.003-04:00

Seriously. Until just recently, I didn't know who you were. I'd never heard of your show (not that I would have watched it anyway, given my self-imposed ban on any show loosely based on 'reality'... I have enough of my own 'reality', thank you very much, and I certainly don't need yours). Anyway, though I didn't know (or care) who you were, I've had to learn. Every time I log into my computer; every time I go to the grocery store; every time I turn around, I am bombarded by your faces... and your words... and your divorce.

OK, I understand that you weren't smart enough to realize that inviting the entire world (or at least those people with nothing better to do than tune into your lives every week) into your home was going to cause marital strife. I guess you never heard of Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey, eh? Or Carmen Electra and Dave Navarro? Britney Spears and K-Fed? Yadda yadda. I know, I know, we all think, 'It'll never happen to us!' Then it does. But here's the deal, Jon and Kate. You need to wise up and shut up already. You need to stop airing your dirty laundry. You need to stop acting like complete and total asses in front of The. Entire. World.

Do you not understand that you are preserving the hate and venom you're spewing at each other For. Friggin'. Ever? Your kids (and their friends), very soon (much sooner than you'd like, I'm sure), are going to be able to Google you and witness firsthand the nasty, disrespectful way you've managed your family and each other. And you know what? It will make them feel like crap. It will make them lose respect for you. IT WILL HURT THEM. Can you not see that?!

So shut up. For your kids' sake. For your own sake. For OUR sake. Shut up. Go away. Deal with your issues in private - not on television, not in interviews, not with book deals, and not at paparazzi-oozing Las Vegas parties. Please!

Thank you.

Love,

Diane

The Apple Didn't Fall Far From the Tree...

2009-09-10T08:35:00.004-04:00

Remember how I said in my last post that teasing and ridicule are how my family shows affection? Yeah. Here's a conversation I had with Ryan on the way to school this morning...

Ry: Whenever I'm reading in class, I look up to see Kevin staring at me!

Me: Maybe he thinks you're ugly.

Ry: Mama! Why would he stare at me if he thinks I'm ugly?

Me: I stare at people who are scary ugly. Don't you?

Ry: Mama! I'm not ugly.

Me: True. Maybe you had a booger.

Ry: I didn't have a booger!

Me: Well, you do get lots of boogers, you know.

Ry: Only when I have a cold! I don't have a cold now!

Me: True. Did you fart?

Ry: NO! I didn't fart!

Me: Really? Or did you do it, blame it on someone else like you do, and then just think he didn't realize it was you, but he really did, 'cause, you know, most people are smart enough to figure out where a fart came from...

Ry: Mama! Stop! I didn't fart and I didn't have a booger and I'm not ugly!

Me: I got nothin' then.

Ry: Sigh.

And yes, in case you were wondering, I am saving up for her therapy.

Awards and Interesting Things...

2009-09-09T10:10:00.003-04:00

The lovely Debbie over at SINGLE Mom in a Complicated World gave me the Kreativ Blogger Award the other day! I do love me some awards, so thank you, sweetness! I love Debbie’s blog and the way she writes, and from one single mom in a complicated world to another, I think you’re doing an amazing job with your kids and your life, Deb!!!

The conditions of the award stipulate that I have to tell you seven interesting things about me. Well, crap. I’ve done this sort of post a bunch of times before and I think I’ve just about exhausted my supply of ‘Interesting Things’. I’ll dig deep, though, and see if I can simply come up with 'Seven Things I Haven't Told You Guys Before' (and ‘interesting’ is relative, isn’t it? I’m just going to hope you don’t fall asleep).

1. When I was in my early 20’s, I had a dream about a former boyfriend dying in a car accident. It was so real and so frightening that I called him at 4:00 in the morning to make sure he was OK. He was (though he was not happy at being yanked from a sound sleep by a nearly-hysterical ex-girlfriend). Less than a week later, though, it was my turn to be roused from sleep by the telephone. He was calling to tell me he had just narrowly avoided an accident and had my dream not been on his mind, causing him to slow down on a mountain road on which he normally drove like a maniac, he likely would have been killed. It was the only time anything like that ever happened to me.

2. I still have dreams about being in school and showing up for a class I haven’t been to all semester, only to find out there’s a test that day and I know absolutely nothing on it. I also have one, fairly regularly, where I’m sitting on the toilet in a big room and people are just walking in and out. I’m stuck there, as I won’t... ahem... finish... or stand up ‘til the room’s empty and it never empties out. I know… I need therapy.

3. I learned to say ‘I love you’ when I got my first dog. My family is not terribly demonstrative in the affection department (unless you count teasing, sarcasm, and ridicule as affection… which we do) and I can count on my fingers the number of times I’ve heard ‘I love you’ from my parents, my siblings, or my aunts and uncles. But when I got my first dog (when I was 10), the words just rolled off my tongue. I can say it easily now (if I feel it, of course) to the people who have entered my life since I became an adult, but it’s still very, very difficult for me to say to almost anyone in my family.

4. When I was little, my aunt told me that if you use the toilet on a plane and the plane hits an air pocket at the same time, you’ll be vacuum-sealed to the toilet (remember what I said about teasing and ridicule?). Well, I believed her and it wasn’t until, oh, last year or so that I finally broke down and peed mid-flight.

5. I’ve suffered bouts of occasional insomnia since I was young. The longest I ever went without sleep, years and years ago, was 3 days. When I finally fell asleep, I was lying on the couch watching a movie, with my head on my friend Ron’s lap. He was so worried that I’d wake up if he moved, he stayed completely still and slept in an upright position for seven hours. I’ve always had the best friends.

6. I once got drunk and fell out of a raised first-floor window. I didn’t break anything but I fell in a sticker bush and received about 10,000 punctures and a case of blood poisoning.

7. About two weeks after my dad died, when we were all back home for Christmas, I heard him call my mother’s name. It was in the afternoon, I was wide awake, and there was a lot of chatter in the house. I got up to let the dog in and when I opened the door, I heard my dad call out, “Hey Cathie!” as plain as day, just like he would do when she didn’t hear him (or was ignoring him). I honestly believe it was him and not my imagination. It never happened again, though I wished for it often. But when she was between the ages of 2 and 3, Ryan told me several times about a man in a yellow shirt who would come visit her in her (second-floor) bedroom at night with a little black dog (who looked sort of like our cocker spaniel). My dad always wore an old yellow chamois shirt when he was puttering around the house and our old family dog, who died years before he did, was a black spaniel-mix. Weird, huh?

OK, I'm supposed to tag seven of you but I'm going to break the rules and simply tag anyone who wants to do this! XOXO

Dear President Obama...

2009-09-07T20:58:00.006-04:00

I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. I’m more ashamed of many of my fellow Americans right now than I have ever been in my life. I’m beyond disgusted. I’m absolutely horrified that such a significant number of the people with whom I share my citizenship (at least half of my citizenship) are complete and utter morons.

I’m so glad you haven’t canceled your speech to our children tomorrow. More than that, though, I’m sorry you felt the need to release the text beforehand, to assure the general public that you won’t be brainwashing or “indoctrinating” our children in the ways of socialism. I’m sorry that more people in this country don’t have enough common sense to realize you won’t be attempting to hypnotize every school-aged child in America in order to coerce them into convincing their parents that your healthcare reform plan is the right way to go. I’m sorry about all those parents who won’t allow their children to hear your speech about working hard, staying in school, and doing their best.

I’m sorry. I’m ashamed. I’m disgusted. I’m horrified. I’m just SO sorry.

Sincerely,

Diane

And for the record, in case anyone wonders... for as much as I despised W; for as much as I didn't trust the man (as far as I could throw him); for as much as I hated nearly everything on his agenda from the time he took office 'til the time he left; for as much as I would have sooner run him over with my car than look at him... had he chosen to give a speech to our kids, I wouldn't have thought twice about letting my child hear it. Because I know that even someone as colossally stupid, dishonest, and devious as that man wouldn't have tried to forward a political agenda via every school child in the country. I just think it's too bad that some conservatives (and I know it's not all of them), no matter how they feel about Obama, couldn't demonstrate the same level of common sense.