Michael Jackson.....yet again

Hey am I the only one who wishes all this friggin' coverage of MJ was over with all ready?

C'mon! Do we really need the 1st hour of GMA, Today etc to spend on this topic? Must every friggin' show be about his odd life, dysfunctional family?

He was weird. He had a few decades of good music that meant something to a good deal of people. He was also scary, odd, self absorbed, manipulative, possibly criminal, and not a good friend if you ask Paul McCartney.

So let's call it like it is....it was sad, he died, he was young. We reported it, we saw it on TV for a several days - NOW ENOUGH ALREADY!

Okay, let the mean emails to me begin.

Monday Musings

It’s officially summer. The whole month of July is jam packed with company at our lake house. That is how I know it’s summer. Want friends to visit – buy a place on water. It works like a charm. I am looking forward to all of them. Most from far away that I haven’t seen in years. I bet they haven’t aged a bit…..I can’t say the same.

One year we had guests who were bringing their children. I baked some chocolate cupcakes with homemade vanilla crème centers. You know like a Hostess cupcake. I frosted them with chocolate frosting and white piping just like a Hostess version. When they arrived the cupcakes were on the table in a glass dome container. After the luggage was put away, the kids put on their suits & we adults made a few cocktails and off we went to play in the backyard/water.

When it was lunch time we went up to the house and made a quick and easy lunch and one of the kids asked if they could have a cupcake. I said, “Sure if it’s okay with your mom it is just fine with me sweetie, just help yourself.”

Well then I learned that she does not allow them to have this type of food. I was feeling like shit. It went something like this.....She told her daughter, "NO you know you aren't allowed to have them & then your brother will be begging."

"But Mom she made them for us didn't you Aunt Peggy? "

"If you continue to argue with me you’re both going to bed."

Yikes. This is all my fault!!!

So here they are all pretty on a pedestal glass dome container for the world to see and they aren’t allowed to have any. I asked the mother after the kids left the room if they could have some later or was it just not right now at lunch time. She said, No, Never.
We went back outside and I actually forgot about it.

Then later in the day after the sun went down I walked into the kitchen to find the kids just staring at the cupcakes and I was mortified. Literally looking at them on the table like an exhibit at the zoo.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to walk over and just yank them away for heaven’s sake. But I felt horrible that they were standing there staring at something yummy they weren’t allowed to have and that I had made just for them. I asked if they wanted some watermelon. They didn’t and really can you blame them? They have chocolaty goodness staring back at them for God’s sake. I felt like the worst hostess ever!

So I asked if they saw the play station in the game room. They hadn’t so they ran downstairs. Whew!

In the mean time I grabbed my hubby and said, “Run these over to the neighbors – they’ll eat them.” He looked at me and said, “But I love these why are you giving them all away?”
I explained the situation to him and he said he wanted to save one. I looked at this grown ass man and said, “C’mon now Rick they don’t need to see you eat them while they would love one - they have literally been staring at these for awhile so get over to the neighbors before they see you leave with them. And eat one over there or something you big baby. It’s not like I can’t make more for you later”

When he came back from the neighbors – who were thrilled by the way - He gave the mom shit for not letting the kids have just 1 for a treat from their “Aunt” Peggy and “Uncle” Rick.
She laughed and said, “You want one don’t you Rick? I didn't say you couldn't.”

But she was strong in her conviction that her children will not have excess sugar or junk food or eat things that are not healthy. Good mom I know. I just can’t wrap my head around it for a treat though. I bought ice cream treats too but they couldn’t have those either. Thankfully they didn't see those. After the cupcake "incident" I asked the mom first when they weren't around.
I was a bad hostess that year. I just thought of summer things I liked as a kid and those 2 things came to mine. Ice cream and cupcakes and I love to bake so easy fix. WRONG.

So now I ask everyone who is coming. What can I feed your children, what do they like, not like, any allergies to food etc? Makes everyone’s life feel better that way.

The grown ups will eat anything ….even that mom who wouldn’t let her kids. When they went to bed it was junk, alcohol and cigarettes. While they are awake she is a saint.

Good thing I didn’t have kids. I'm no saint and I’d go straight to hell I'm afraid.

Things your Mom may or may not have told you.

I didn't have the good fortune of having my mom in my life past the age of 13.
Breast cancer took her life.

But she gave me a lot of wisdom in those short years.....some funny and some spot on and both.

I have big boobs. There I said it. I have hated these suckers since they began in 3rd grade.
I would hide them behind books and folded arms. By the 6th grade they were already busting out of C cups. I would slouch and hunch and try to make them appear gone. Like you could hide those sweater puppies at that age and size! Good grief I was 5'2" with a C cup and I was only 12!

My mom had a thing for posture. I remember having to walk with a book on my head holding my shoulders back. Over and over again I might add. As though that damn book meant anything to my posture. I still don't get it. You can be hunched over and still balance that book. But my mom was from that old school that said a young woman must do this to correct posture and look like a lady. (oh crap!)

One day when she saw me slouching and trying to hide my breasts. She sat me down at the kitchen table for one of her "talks" She stood up and showed me how all that slouching looked.
I laughed at the sight of my mom hunching over like that. I had never realized how great her posture was until she looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame. I giggled as she continued to sit and tell me that hunching, slouching, holding my books to try to hide them does not make me look like a young lady with small boobs but a young lady who slouches. HUH?

So she repeated that slouching didn't hide my boobs, it just made me look like a person with big boobs who slouches. To this day that cracks me up! Good point mom.
I never slouched after that. But I still hated these damn boobs. Point to Mom.

Back in the day I used Noxema on my face. (do they even make that anymore?) I thought my face was a big ole grease pit. I cursed my Italian heritage and blamed it all on them as I did most things in my early life. I hated that oily skin as much as these damn boobs. But thankful I never had zits....go figure.

When I complained to my mom about all this grease on my face she responded with more of her words of wisdom. "Someday you will be thankful your skin isn't dry because it keeps the wrinkles at bay." HUH?
Mom, I'm 12 - I don't even think about wrinkles I am more concerned with my clothes, hair and Three Dog Night! Ah, but now that I am an older woman I think about wrinkles and I have very minimal. My good ole greasy Italian skin that I always hated has indeed proven to show less wrinkles than my friends with dry skin. Point goes to Mom again!

My mom always told me to let boys win - it would make them like me. Even if I was smarter than them, and as she pointed out -you probably always will be.
To let them win and make them feel good, it will make a boy like you. Ah but mom was so wrong. I am of a different generation that would never allow for that shit to happen. You can't handle my competitive nature than take a hike! Mom loses that point!

My mom used to tell me that I was smart, strong, pretty and could do anything I wanted to do. She never ever told me that something was out of my reach if I wanted it. It was driven into my head I could have it no matter what Dad told me. Point for Mom.

My mom used to tell me to read when I was sad or bored. She taught me that one could escape to a new world. All the while learning. She used to say that I could go on adventures and travel to far away places and learn about people and places so that when I grew up maybe I would go there.
She would read to me stories and I swear I could smell the places and see the colors. I appreciate that love of books to this day. I never realized until I was much older how much my mother read to educate herself and how self conscience she was of not having graduated from high school. She was told to leave after the 11th grade to help her family work during the depression. She got a job so her brother could stay in school. It was more important that boys got an education vs. the girls in the family because boys needed to make a living where as the girls were expected to become married and work only for some man she married making his home and children. WOW.

When man was going to land on the moon she was near the end of her life. She wanted so much to stay awake to see this no matter what. I remember thinking it was an odd hour and how exciting it was to be able to be up to see this live. She made this another adventure that my Dad went along with even though he was not in the same mindset as she. He couldn't have cared less. It was fun and very memorable. She kept telling me to always be open minded to all new things because you never know what you’ll learn, who you’ll meet and what adventure you’ll find. I never understood that until many years later. It’s something my Dad couldn’t disagree more with. I remember that night so vividly to this day. How those 2 married I’ll never know. Complete opposites. Who knows maybe if she had lived they wouldn't have stayed married.

When my mom passed away after her terribly painful bout with cancer I realized there were so many more questions to ask and wanted some of her crazy ass advice for her to share. Now that I am peri-menopausal I would ask some of these questions…..

• Why do the wrinkles stay at bay but the oily skin doesn’t help the eyes drop or the elasticity of my skin?
• Why didn’t you tell me these boobies were going to fall like rocks from the sky when I hit my 40’s? Now I don’t want them so much small as I would like them up where they belong!
• Why didn’t you tell me that my ass would fall as well? My youngest sister asked me when walking away what that was on the back of my thighs….MY ASS I retorted. Back to doing squats after that!
• Why wasn’t I warned of this emotional roller coaster of peri-menopause? It’s a good thing I do not believe in having guns or there would be bloodshed people….lots of bloodshed!
• How could she tell me that Dad was young and he would remarry again and that I should accept her because Dad would never choose anyone who wasn’t good for my sister and I? Where does one get that kind of strength? How can I get that?
• Why didn’t she warn me that Dad may marry someone who thought just like him who would always tell us we couldn’t do everything because we were girls, who thought dreaming of adventure and travel was silly and wasting of ones time. Who thought being supportive only meant giving you a roof over your heads and discipline?

My life is really 2 parts. I call them BMD and AMD. Before Mom Died and After Mom Died. Two very distinctively different lives for me. I no longer had my cheerleader. I no longer had someone so involved in my school life or my friends or who cared to know about any of them. I was on my own in a lot of ways.

Don’t get me wrong. I am a lucky one. I have parents who love me and I always knew that, a new mom who was so very good to me and who gave me 3 new sisters whom I love.

But my mom never told me how hard this would be that day she sat me down on her bed. She only told me I would be great! She lied to me that day.
It only gets harder as I get older.

Why didn’t you tell me that Ma?

Kids, Dogs, it's all the same

Okay you know how people with new babies or little children only talk about said babies and their adorable children? Well I feel I am living that world these days. Jeez, I hate those people!

Oh God it's awful and wonderful. I love this puppy but I find it stressful. She is not housebroken and she has shit once on the carpet so I am now watching her constantly. Everyone including me thought this wouldn't be so difficult since I work from home.

Hell no! I am not getting any thing at work accomplished at all this week really. She is very consuming when she is not napping. THANK GOD FOR PUPPY NAPS!!

I am trying to read the signs and I swear there are times she looks at me like, "what the hell is wrong with you? You've had me now for 6 days and you still can't read my signs of when I have to go pee or poop? Boy I have a dumb ass mother here!"

There are times that she looks like the perfect puppy jumping high and frolicking with her squeaky toys or when she is sleeping. Then there are times when she looks at me from the corner of her eyes and looks to be thinking...."if I had thumbs so help me God I would open that door and run from you, you neurotic woman!"

I realize that my floors will never look beautiful and clean again.

I realize that all my issues and being anal retentive about my home being just so are long gone....along with perky breasts.

So what was I thinking of becoming a new mom at this age?

Is there enough wine or Tangueray gin to get me through this?

Hell those are rhetorical questions - of course there isn't enough wine or gin. There isn't enough on a good day!

Doggy Paddle

My first letter to my Mommy's friends.

Boy have I had a weekend!

My new parents picked me up on Friday in Charlotte NC and I had the longest car ride of my 3 month life. Then on Saturday they took me down to their boat. I don't like the boat. I hide under Daddy's seat.

I did sit on the dock far from the edge like a perfect little puppy by my mommy's legs. So she grabbed her camera from her wrist and looked in the viewfinder to see my cute face.

But instead she saw me put my paw over the edge of the dock and I fell head first - I did a somersault - into the lake. She went to grab me as I was going down, down, down.

In the meantime my daddy was in the water and he came over and grabbed me by my neck as I came back up to the surface all by myself! I was so scared that my little heart was pounding and pounding so hard and I let daddy hold me and I put my head right on his shoulder and snuggled until I felt better.

In just a few minutes of snuggling I was just fine and decided to find out what all this wet stuff was anyways.

I got the hang of swimming pretty quick if I do say so myself. (I stayed in the shallow end by the shore I admit) I think my parents were more scared than me! They said they didn't plan on introducing me to water that way - but it ended up being fun.
Now I am at another house and I am so confused. I think they are trying to drive me nuts.

And you know what drives me crazy? All they do is keeping asking me if I want to go outside.

I don't want to go outside it's too hot what is wrong with them? I am a diva and only like the shade or air conditioning! Can't they tell that everytime we go out and I will always sit under a tree before I can go on. Jeez!

I hope you like my first day of swimming pictures. As long as they don't make me try that boat thing again I think it may be a fun summer!

Sloppy Kisses,

Izzy

some quick thoughts

Izzy is coming home tomorrow! YIPEE. This was sent from the breeder. She is 13 weeks old. I can't wait to get her home. Video's and photo's to follow.

It's still raining. It's raining in my header picture from May when we were in the Bahamas. It rained the minute we got home and hasn't stopped since. What the hell? I guess the drought is at least over but honestly I may have webbed feet soon. I left Seattle for a reason!! (well 2 actually the people are very very weird!)

I am blessed to have a cleaning lady. She is trust worthy and that is priceless. She is the best we've ever had as far as cleaning. However she is a bitch. There are days when the idea of cleaning my own toilet is actually a happy thought than to deal with her attitude and unreliabilty. That feeling does pass though.

She boasts how she is always on time. She is NEVER on time. I don't dare say that for fear of her. She never listens and gets what you tell her correct because I believe she is thinking about her response once you open your mouth to speak to her. And God knows she will agrue with you if you tell her that you told her this or that or that the sky is blue. She is always right and she is a bitch about it. She doesn't do humor.

She has a very thick accent and she does confuse words us. Sometimes I have no idea what the hell she is trying to tell me. She has been here for 14 years. Her husband sounds just like me. He has lived here in America as long as she has. Difference is he will speak English all the time....she refuses to. He has moved up the ladder in his company and she is cleaning houses and bitching. She became a United States Citizen a few years ago. Yet every time she goes to Mexico to see her family she says, I am going to my country. If she is talking about anything she says,,," in my country." I always retort with, your country is now America. Didn't you hold up your hand and swear to that? So yes, I am a bitch right back but for some reason that one sticks in my craw. Do you think the snotty French would tolerate that?

She was suppose to be here an hour ago. I am sure she will have some excuse. Just so she shows up - she has been known to not do that too. But I continue to say, "I am thankful I can afford a cleaning lady 2 times a month." and deal with the crazy ass woman. But my toilets and floors need cleaned woman - hurry up!

Ghosts

I love the show Paranormal.
Seriously though I can not watch it alone at times- even daytime.
I always wait for Rick to be home to watch it with me.
It's over now for the season but because I tivo it I just watched the season finale.
That show just lingers on for me. I think about it a lot.

When I was a little girl I have very vivid memories of an imaginary friend who I called Janet.
I can see what she is wearing to this very day. Black braided pigtails, red plaid dress, white socks and black shiney Mary Jane shoes.
Scary I can remember that but not where my flip flops were left last.

My family has always told stories about me screaming because my father "sat" on her.
Making my mom set a place for her at the dinner table for her.
I was 6 and under when we lived at that house. I remember all of this like it was yesterday.
Hell, better than yesterday because I don't remember what I had for dinner yesterday.

On the show Paranormal they showed a kid who was always talking and playing with an imaginary friend. The parents were worried about the kid and were convinced he saw ghosts. When the team came to inspect of course the parents were correct.
Unfortunately the imaginary friend began to scare this little boy and that was why the paranormal team was called in. So this young boy was playing with an older child who was making him sad and making him do mean things and damaging things around the house.
It wasn't fun anymore to play with him yet he wouldn't go away. That made him mad.
Hence the parents need to get this out of the house and why they were scared and called the paranormal team.

Now my husband is really convinced that my imaginary friend was a ghost. (he thought it could be before when I told him stories)
I know she could have been because I have lived in homes that were haunted and I have seen "things." shall we call it. But honestly I really just thought I had a vivid imagination - end of story.

However I am not so sure anymore. Rick asked me if my imaginary friend, Janet, came with us when we moved. I said no. And it hit me like a bolt. Why if this was imaginary wasn't she at my new house? Hmmm....good question.

So maybe he's right. (for once...tee hee) and she was a little girl that passed away in that home and came back. She liked my little toy piano and my blocks. I remember playing with those toys with her for hours. Could my whole memory of me and my imaginary friend be of a ghost? It kind of flips me out to think that to be honest. But he makes a good point. She was in my life all the time and then we moved and never saw her again.

Makes you wonder doesn't it?