38 going on...

While talking to my friend Patti yesterday, our conversation brought to mind something that I didn't get to discuss with her, but I consider it a wonderful phenomenon...

A couple of years ago (maybe three) I started to notice twenty-something boys looking at me in a funny way.  At the time I thought it was a funny way, assuming they saw me as someone "older" who could have been something when she was around their age.  Or maybe they found it funny I had such young kids at my age.

I soon realized that those "funny way" looks were something way more when I started getting hit on by boys who could almost be my sons (at least in Biblical times).  

Now I understand the supposed "cradle-robbing" women like Demi Moore...  It's not something women do or go through, like the Swan Song of our youth or to feel younger.  As a matter of fact, I've never felt more attractive in my life without depending on a man (or men) to approve of my looks.  I'm with kids all day, mostly dressed down (understatement) with no make up at all and stressed out.  But I feel sexier than ever.

SO... in conclusion and a message to the world:  it's not the WOMEN robbing the cradle, it's those BOYS knock-knock-knocking on our clock-ticking doors!!!

Thank you very much.

 

A happy bird sings better

and a happy wife writes better.

I've noticed that ever since I moved back into the house my postings have not had much humor...  That's not good, because it speaks of my state of mind now that I'm living here again.

And speaking of "here again"... with the prospect of moving to Los Angeles closer than in the horizon, I've been working extremely hard to get the house in Indy ready to show so we can list it.  I realllllllly don't think we'll get anywhere with it in the state it has been for the last few years.  Oh, who am I kidding, in the state it has been since about 10 years...

I've done so much work, and it has brought me closer to the home I never called my own.  It's always been Stefan's house:  He bought it (although we both own it), he re-modeled part of it, he decorated it with his things, and he's always made the decisions involved with it.  It is only now (and I suppose because of everything that's happened) that I am finally comfortable and sure of myself to make certain (albeit small) changes. 

These changes brought about a certain understanding of the house, and a feeling with it that if I could just get it up-to-date and well organized, it would be much easier to maintain.

So, should I just let him move to L.A.by himself??  ;-)

Ring-a-ding,

or, "My Sore Spot"

If your wedding ring set reminded you of bad times in the marriage and the inscription read "love and trust forever" when he had cheated and you wanted to start anew, would it be in bad taste to ask your husband for something different to mark the beginning of a new beginning? 

As I said in the entry before this one, I had asked him to "blow my mind" before I were to return to the marriage and to live with him again.  I clearly remember thinking and (I thought anyway) telling him to load up on the romance.  Anyway, I guess to men, the message women have sent them through the ages is that romance = money.  Or something like that?

So I found out what my husband was about to get me was not only the same exact wedding ring set he bought for me 10 years ago, but A BIGGER version of it...  Indeed!  I would now have to look at the same thing as before, at twice the size, and possibly with a message inside that said "romance and money forever"?  I just wanted some emotion, something from the heart...  those are the things that come for free.

I'm not comfortable with him spending gobs of money to repair the damage done, so I'm nervous about our trip to Tiffany's in Cincinnatti tomorrow.  Although I do want to have a nice heirloom in our family to pass on, I really want something that I will look at to relive the turning point in our lives.  The pinnacle of what we've worked for, the final answer to the question "WHY DID I MARRY HIM??"

What a girl wants...

...is really good girlfriends. 

When I moved out of the house I told my husband something that I considered extremely important:  That if I were to ever come back, he would need to really blow my mind.  To explain:  before we got married, he never actually proposed to me.  I threatened that I would move back to L.A. and stop following him around the world "acting" as his wife with not many of the benefits...  He ended up asking, of course, but not if I would marry him but if I "wanted to get married" in the same way and tone as when asking a woman "would you like to look like Elle McPherson?"

Hmmmm... let me think about that one...  I'VE ONLY THREATENED TO LEAVE YOUR ASS TO MOVE BACK TO LOS ANGELES AND BE ALONE AGAIN because I thought it would be fun! 

I've moved back to the house because the lease was up and I couldn't get my head around paying any more rent for the apartment when so much work had to be done at the house anyway... 

As I sit here and wait for my mind to get blown I wonder what is inside me that makes me come to my senses and act practically and give in? 

Fortunately for him I have friends who listen.  And care.  I'm sure (no matter how much he claims it was his idea) my lesbian friend Amy (I wouldn't label her, it came from her) said something to my husband about my frustration:  Tomorrow we are going back to Tiffany's to "upgrade" my engagement ring to a different one. 

Oh, and Amy will take care of the kids.  I wonder how that happened...

 

These are extremely funny

The Washington Post's Style Invitational once again asked readers to
take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or
changing ONE letter and supply a new definition. Here are this year's
  winners:

  1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you
realize it was your money to start with

  2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

  3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright
ideas from penetrating. (The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little  sign
of breaking down in the near future.)

  4. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of
getting laid.  (my favorite)

  5. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject
financially impotent for an indefinite period.

  6. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

  7. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person
who doesn't get it.

  8. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

  9. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all thesereally
bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a 
serious bummer.

12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming
only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido: All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they
come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've
accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your
bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor (n): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the
fruit you're eating.

  And the pick of the literature:

18. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole

tic toc tic toc

Like sands through the hourglass... so are the Days of our Lives...  if that's not one the most depressing things I've ever heard, I don't know what is.  I remember the first time I actually paid attention to what that voice at the beginning of the soap was saying and I almost had an anxiety attack.  I envisioned my life flying by and not being able to return to any of my past or ever see again certain people again and I swear I couldn't breathe!  It took me a while to get over that one.  I wonder who the severly depressed maniac was who came up with such a catchy phrase.

This past Friday I was painfully reminded (literally) that I'm getting old.  It was the kids' last day of pre-school (I'm going to homeschool), and the big day of their end-of-school program. 

I'm such a pain in the ass at the moment, that my husband had to give up a big dinner in England where he would have met the Queen so he could be here for said big day.  Well, although I still insist that the program started before the supposed 11:30am  starting time, SJ and I got to the school to witness the last half of the last song.  By the time we were all set up with the camera and reached our daughter it was all over.  All of it was over and finished and out. 

What's more, on my way to Clara I bent down to pick up my purse and my back had a jolting pain on the lower right side.  I made it to where she was but sat down as soon as I got there.  Then my whole body just froze.  If I as much just breathed it hurt like crazy.  It felt like a never ending cramp that I could not make better no matter what I did.  The school director called 911 and I ended up in the ER, where my left side (lower though) started what the right side had already done.

Fortunately those ambulance guys are very intelligent and one of them helped me by moving my left leg.  Thank you Bill from the Carmel Fire Department!  Anyway (and to shorten this), I laid there for SO long my back stopped cramping and the muscles knotted up and froze in place.

So I lied to the nurse and told her if I didn't go home I would start to have withdrawals from my medicine so they let me go.  Otherwise I would probably still be lying there starved to death and dehydrated.

Feeling OLD,

G

An email from Tracey

Here is an email from Tracey, my friend who moved to L.A. from Indy.  This is the best way to describe her... *and* she should start her own journal.

 

"that is not right gabe.hey my link didnt cooperate.is it freecycle.com???net....org....aliens....????
free the aliens!!!
i want us to make a shrit of pepes picture member how we did that once only i need white not black teeeee shirt. hope your back feels better.
sales are sucking.
doug is sucking more i am incredulous.or something.wow.I mean i can be self involved as the next guy but pllllease!
#^#^$*^ ing computer keys keep sticking and jive.yeesh getting new one when i come home
cant wait although hear it has been alll rainy and shiznet.
eeesh.no duck weather for T i do want one thunderstorm though.I have requested one at night
preferably Mon or Tues
.Last time I forgot to be specific and got stuck
in a hailstorm in bloomington at an antique mall for like 3 hours.
dang i knew every nick , nack and dust bunny in the whole place!
so anywho i think i will be more specific this time.
hmmmm guess i will give peepee a bath thats my fun fri nite!!!
sample sale tomarrow at warner bros. lot freds and lisa cline and etc bunch of stores....i know you are jealous!!! he heee
cant wait to seeee you"

Eduarda Guerrero

Nope, I haven't become my mother.  I've become my grandmother instead.

Eduarda Guerrero used to sit in front of the T.V., tune into some show she hated and would have arguments with it.  She would criticize jeans' models to their face and would get completely enraged at the lack of decency invading homes everywhere through that little black and white TV screen.

Maybe I don't have loud arguments with an inanimate object or people who can't hear me, and I certainly don't wait for a traffic light to turn red on me to bolt across the street and curse the drivers, but I do tune in to lame shows so I can criticize them.  Love to hate them.  In that sense, I love Britney Spears, and Christina Aguilera too...

I also think of running away sometimes and not tell anyone and show up at someone's house with a wild-eyed look saying "I ran away, don't tell anyone".  My aunt would call in a panic looking for my grandmother...  and how much would I love to have the guts to say "Go take a shit in the woods, you old goat!" to my husband just because he changed the channel.

Ah...  the wonderful things we learn from our elders about aging besides being old!  I was so young that it was all taken with humor, so as far as I knew my grandmother was the greatest comedienne of all time.  Unfortunately, I don't think she had any idea how wonderfully funny and colorful she was.  From keeping gobs of money within her sleeves, rolled up in hankerchiefs, to giving us the equivalent of $100 for candy and $1 for a new dress, she may not have been the sweet grandma one would imagine, but in my eyes she was the best.

Buenas noches, Abue.

Unbelievable

Never did I think I would tune in to watch "Showbiz Moms and Dads".  I even told myself not to waste my time. 

I'm now half through the second show I've ever seen and it's just unbelievable.  I do realize that some of these kids (the older ones especially) really do want to be in that business, but I can't help to think (as most people I'm sure) that when it comes to the younger ones (ok, the little blonde beauty queen) there is something wrong with the picture.

I remember always wanting to be a ballerina.  I wanted to be my oldest sister, who was very succesful at it and couldn't think of a better way to make your life as someone who could express themselves with their entire being to music.  Until not that many years ago I would get extremely emotional if I watched any sort of ballet production -- thinking about what could have been.  I did take classes for a brief time, and was not good at it, but I still wished I had started younger and kept at it longer.  I remember removing my pointe shoes after class and my toes would be bleeding from the blisters... but I knew I wanted to keep dancing. 

A crazy phenomenon:  During ballet class I didn't feel pain while on my toes yet coming back down and walking to the back of the line felt like I had razor blades in my shoes.

Conclusion:  as long as my children develop a passion for something (be it sports, art or whatever) I will support and help them, but I pray God will keep me from pushing them into something under the false pretense that it is good for them and/or their character. 

If anyone out there ever hears my name mentioned on "Showbiz Moms & Dads" or any reality show, please hunt me down and have me committed. 

Thanks in advance,

G

Happy smother's day

I just realized that every time I write on my journal the TV is playing in the background...  There are just so many things I could never get done if it wasn't for the television, as wrong as that sounds, but why pretend that I don't rely on it to keep the kids busy? 

Today was quite possibly the BEST mother's day I've ever had.  It was just the kids and I (dad's traveling) and nothing huge happened, but from the moment they came running out with their little gifts and forward was one of the best times of smotherhood.  Their faces were lit up as if they had swallowed stars, the excitement and anticipation at my reaction was too great for them and I thought they would explode.  With Clara's blessing I opened her brother's gift first.  It was a photo frame he made in school with a picture of him wearing a man's suit, tie and hat and that goofy grin of his when he is trying to be cute.  On the back it said:  "I love my mommy because:  I love her so much".  Why explain it, good enough for me!

Clara then gave me what she had made and it was a little flower pot with crafted flowers in it and a beautiful card with a poem.  The three of us took turns hugging, then Bala yelled "Group hug!!!" and the three of us hugged and laughed and kissed and I thanked God I was alive.

The three of us are always together, we talk all day, we play, I try to ignore them, they don't let me, we get in fights and in general we smother each other a lot. 

Tonight before they go to sleep I plan on smothering them yet again with millions of kisses.  Because it's mother's day and I get to do what I want and what I want is for it to be SMOTHER'S DAY. 

Goodnight.

Journal of the Weak

Valium is *such* a wonderful thing...  When the going gets tough, the tough take Valium...  many of them...

I just had to go to my happy place today, as I realized that my home is not it.  I am alone again, with my kids and my wonderful lesbian friend Amy, who makes me realize I'm not alone, after all.

Just a married single mom.