K.I.S.S.

Street performer at the Cherokee Triange Art Fair

TEN GROOVY THINGS FROM THE WEEK

I almost forgot about the ten great things!! Once again here we go on a reflective tour of the week that was and all the wonders it offered.

1) Had a long telephone conversation with one of my buds from Lexington. I heard the latest stories about his precocious children. Made me laugh! Miss all of them so much it hurts still.

2) While driving to work early one morning, I saw two deer in a side field. The day was just breaking and there was fog swirling around. Beautiful.

3) Found this oasis of tranquility in the middle of the city! Called Linderwood Nature Reserve. Shhhhhhh....don't tell anyone.

4) My injured toe is much better...almost healed.

5) Spring has arrived in all her glory and I have been taking stolen moments to enjoy the beauty of the area. What I once thought was bland and flat, is now ablaze with color and possibilities. I am happy and sometimes when I realize it, it makes me pause.

6) I wrote the Hungry Bear piece in a fit of inspiration! I was so proud of the comment Paul wrote!

7) I met this spiritual mystical guy at the Buffalo Preserve. I'm working on a piece about him. Fascinating.

8) Was able to make it to Louisville for the Cherokee Triangle Arts Fair! It did not matter that it was rainly and overcast. I met my friend the scientist with the wonderful jewelry...Found some of the cutest pig earrings for Bridget. The head on one earring, the pigs butt on the other. Darling.

9) After the fair Bridget and I took a long stroll down Bardstown Road and visited Ear-X-tasy, my favorite music store!! Found the Saw Doctor's latest CD.

10) Totally blew my attempts to be less consumer oriented! Found some really cool stuff at the Fair, besides the pig earrings.

YESTERYEAR'S COFFEE BREAK

Sitting in Bob Evans worrying about my failing memory. I'm always thinking about the loss of those tiny moments, small conversations, quiet spaces and many non-earth shattering occurrences of my life. Where have they gone? Do they still hold residence in my brain? Behind doors closed with the locks of marijuana abuse and alcohol residues?

If someone, some mad scientist, inserted a mind probe and gently, please ever so gently, poked...would I be able to recall in vivid detail faded recollections from ...say the summer of 1974? What was I feeling, hoping for, dreading? Where was I in terms of self-awareness, self-destructiveness, self-esteem, self-development, self-reliance, self-examination, selfishness, selflessness?

I think of 1974 because I am drinking coffee out of a small ceramic breakfast mug and finishing off the remains of a $7.89 breakfast at Bob Evans and recalling the $0.99 plate breakfast at a little old Hole in the Wall off campus in Murray Kentucky, called the Hungry Bear.

I have vivid vague memories of the place, usually because I was in the throws of a magnificent hang-over. The diner was right across the street from the Sig-Ep house, of which I was a Little Sister and beyond that, a constant visitor. Not only the Sig-Eps hung out there, but everyone else including, but not limited to,....straights, freaks, GDI's, frat boys, jocks, hippies, do-gooders, Bolio's, grad students, professors, drunks, flunkies, Narc's, sorority chicks, bootleggers, Viet Nam vet's, ROTC, police, police wanna bees, drug addicts, Homecoming Queens, locals, barefoot, long hair, no hair, motor cycle riders, punks, pot heads, sweeties, jerks, hoods, car thieves, drug smugglers, artists, crazy people and their girlfriends, and those people from New Jersey.

Besides the $0.99 cent menu the biggest attraction was the mangy stuffed bear in the corner...a real bear once....Complete with teeth revealing snarl and extended arms with the four inch claws!

Yikes!!

Before it was the Hungry Bear, it was a B-B-Q place called the Saucy Pig. Considering the clientele, the name was constantly bastardized to "The Hungry Pig" or "The Saucy Bear". More often than not it was referred to as either "The Pig" or "The Bear"...as in, "Let's go to the Pig".

We'd sit bleary eyed, eating our $0.99 cent specials, drinking our bottomless coffee and stating at that stuffed bear.

The same meal is now $7.89 at Bob Evans.

And a darn good price for 30 year old memories. Much less expensive than a brain probe from a mad scientist, more than likely an ex-customer of the Pig.

TEN WEEKLY EXCELLENT GOOD THINGS

Yesterday I had my doubts about coming up with ten things. I thought, maybe four or five. This is the magic and beauty of the exercise! Once you let your mind wander through the days of the previous week trying to focus and pinpoint the good things...guess what, not only did I unearth four or five I came up with over then things.

1) Got a raise! Yea!! And an excellent review. They don't know me very well yet. HA!

2) Had to go see the Doctor at the immediate care center and really lucked out! Got a woman and got in and out in under an hour. And...got good drugs. lol!!

3) Found a terrific antique/flea market in Ft. Wayne. Spent an enjoyable lunch hour browsing through all the old photographs, books, magazines, dresses, paintings, furniture, toys...the list was endless.

4) Spent all week-end in my yard gussying it up. One thing about Ft. Wayne, everybody takes pride in their yards. I planted a lot of summer bulbs in the back and have some blooms for the front. Some gladiolus in honor of my Grandmother who never smiled.

5) I finished The Beast...a 250 page handwritten personal journal that I have laboring in for a year and a half. It was one of those experiences where at the beginning it was all exciting and stimulating and at the end it was "GOSH, will it ever end." And it did. Never again. Only those mousy 100 or 150 page deals from now on.

6) Took a trip (work related) to upper Indiana and bought three bottles of fabulous raspberry wine from Satex Winery in Angola.

7) I ran in the 5K Mastodon Stomp several weeks ago and signed up so late that all the T-shirts were gone! Because of my work connection with the establishment that sponsored the race I was able to receive one!! It came in the mail on Friday. Unexpectedly! The best kind of packages.

8) Joe gave me an unexpected gift this week, a beautiful pink golf shirt/sweater. I am so lucky to have him in my life.

9) Reality TV. I just love it. I only watch three shows on TV, two of them are reality. The other is The Soprano's...which I love too. But the Reality...geez! Amazing Race is now on at a time I can remember and stay up for. I loved the couple Lake and Michele, not sure where they are from but those Southern Accents were music to my ears. Too bad they were eliminated last week. I don't know, it just tickled me to hear them go at it with each other. Especially when he said, "Bitch, Shut-up" in that high pitched Southern Accent. You had to be there. Does not translate to the written word.

10) The last thing is just a thought, a seed that my sister Kit planted last week at the family gathering to celebrate Easter. Seems there is a couple somewhere up north who decided to try for a year to diminish their dependency on consumerism. She is going to grow her own vegetables, only purchase clothes second hand....etc.etc.etc. They will only purchase the absolute necessities. Wine is consider a necessity. (the husband) I find it very intriguing and wonder if I could cut my consumption in half.....could I do it?

I did give up alcohol for six weeks...except for those times the Bishop gave us Irish a dispensation.

I know I have the will power, do I have the desire??

Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven

Several days ago I stopped at a park and enjoyed the spring time weather. There was a rather large pond made complete with at least twenty ducks and geese. No, it was made complete with two older women attending a young girl child and her small training wheeled bicycle.

Being alone, I was able to just sit and enjoy the sunshine and people watch. Besides the young girl and her custodians, there was a middle age couple desperately in love. Not that they were smooching or openly fondling each other, but very gentle and holding hands, bodies always touching. Young love in the bloom.

Another lone character who was slowly walking the perimeter of the pond. Perhaps searching for the best spot to cast a fishing line?

It was a gorgeous day and we all celebrated it in our little peaceful realms of togetherness with nature.

The couple offered the little girl a handful of soft bread from the loaf they had retrieved from the car. All walked to the small dock on the pond, perfect and intended for duck feeding.

A flood of memories poured over me as the little girl, clad in a pink jacket tossed the bread over the railing into the waiting crowd of now noisy grouped fowl crying for the crusts of bread.

Bridget must have been around two years old. The jacket she is wearing above is the jacket she was wearing that fateful day we went to Cave Hill Cemetery off Bardstown Rd.

Going to the cemetery and feeding the ducks in the murky and muck ridden pond was one of her favorite things to do. We would first go to the day old bread store and purchase for dimes several loafs of stale bread. She would be so excited on the short drive. Being winter, I would bundle her up in several layers into that blue jacket along with mittens.

She was so excited that as I "unleashed" her from the car she began to run at full reckless two year old speed down a small hill towards the pond. Once I realized she was out of control I went after her.

In one tiny gloved hand, outstretched towards the ducks in the pond, was a lone slice of bread.

She never slowed down.

Over the lip of the grey limestone lined rim into the pond she went! With me giving chase behind her. She was up to her waist in the muck. What relief! I had no idea how deep the pond was going to be and had no hesitation of going in after her. Instead I just grabbed her and yanked her back out.

Still with the bread outstretched in her hand.

At the time it was not funny. 23 years later its a priceless memory.

THE TRAUMATIZED TOE CATASTROPHE

I sent my best buddy Deb a card this week and wrote all about the Papa John 10 Mile Race last week-end.

I knew that in her minds eye she was able to see me, an over weight 50+ woman, stripped down to a sports bra because the weather was toooooo hot, much warmer than anticipated. If anticipated, would have worn something more appropriate. Then I would have avoided the shock of seeing the pictures they send you via e-mail, in the hopes you will purchase documentation of being part of the race. What I saw was overweight white skin shining under the glaring sun, flab rolling over my tight running pants (also inappropriate for the weather...but would have been okay if my t-shirt did not have to be removed). I practically fell off the computer chair when I saw this abomination!

Good Lord, how did I arrive at this lowly state.

Since I did not practice, I was once again astonished at how hard it is to walk 10 miles! Especially when you are at least 20 pounds over weight and your hands and feet are swelling. I was being passed by everyone...everyone. Not to make any excuses, but my feet were killing me.

If only I could rip those shoes off and finish the last five miles bare foot, I would have done it. But having to carry the shoes would have done me in too.

Every step was torture.

I finished out of 4700 people, in the last batch of 300. Thank God there was pizza left. I limped to my car and immediately ripped those shoes off and examined my digits. They were so tender I could not touch them!

Several days later, they became big black and blue cartoon character toes.

I must concede that my running days are over, or I must loose weight, presumably by running.

God forbid I try eating correctly.

I am actually tempted to purchase the pictures as motivation.

Looking Back

THE WOMEN IN MY FAMILY (continued)

The interesting fact about this photo is that it is the only one I have ever seen of my Grandmother (bottom left) and all her grandchildren. Well, all the grandkids at the time. Missing are only my youngest brother P, my two sisters, and two of my cousins. All yet to be born. I would guess the year is 1956. Can you find me?

Never again were we all together for a photo. Our family moved to Kentucky. We were the only faction of the family to leave New York. Others followed, but much later.

Several times after this frozen moment we could have gathered together as a clan and smile for the camera. It never happened. It was not due to distance, we got together for several weddings before Grandma passed. It was due to my cousin (the cute blonde on the couch tickling one of the babies) marrying an Italian and "killing" my grandmother.

If she refused to go to one wedding, she could not go to any others.

As I look at this photo I am startled as I realize Grandma is smiling! As a child I never remember her smiling. I was scared to death of her.

My mother was the apple of her eye. She was mad at my mother also, for marrying my father. The reason? Because his sister is an albino and she was convinced the gene would transfer to one of us kids.

All the sisters and the one sister in law look so young, so happy. Tragedy, the step-sister to Life, had yet to reach out and touch them. To remind them that there are a lot more tragic things waiting for them than Italians.

Germans were okay. Not Italians.

The New Camera

 

If I resize the photo down to about 1/3 of the original, it is doable.

Even though I had them looking directly into the sun, I love the sly smile on Bridget's face.

Things Good This Week Ten!!

"Homer no function well beer without." Homer Simpson.

1) I made it through Lent and kept the no alcohol fast for over six weeks. That first Blue Moon tasted like....well, the best thing in the world!

2) The beautiful full moon this past week. It seemed so close to the earth as it set in the western sky that I could almost reach up and touch it.

3) Had an excellent week at work!

4) The Papa John 10 miler race is behind me. I finished in a very humiliating time and my poor feet were killing me. I came prepared to participate in 60 degree weather and it was in the damn 80's! Thought I was going to keel over.

5) Spending Easter with my family.

6) Shopping with my daughter Bridget, she is a trip.

7) A cookie run for DUNKERS (cranberry kind with icing!!) at Trader Joes in Indianapolis. I have everyone hooked on them at work.

8) While traveling down I-65 towards Louisville late Friday night, there was a tremendous lightening thunder tornado storm behind me. I was about 30 miles ahead of it. Thank God! It lit up the sky in breathtaking fashion for hours.

9) Going to lunch on the now fashionable Frankfort Ave and finding that an Easter parade was going on! We traversed the road blocks and found a parking spot on a side road very close to the restaurant! And added to that, we had a great spot to watch the parade.

10) Using my new camera at our family gathering resulted in some fabulous pictures. I am truly amazed at the differences. I have not figured out how to load up the pictures via Photobucket without them ending up in gargantuan proportions! But I will.

THE OPPOSITE

I was not a huge Seinfeld fan. George was my favorite. I guess I felt I had a little more of George in me than Jerry. One of the funniest episodes was when George decides that from here on out, he is going to do the exact opposite of what he would normally do!! Or say.

Ever since seeing that episode I have been tempted now and then to do the opposite of my normal routine!

It seems that I, like George, seem to have good things happen to me when I do the exact opposite of what I would normally do.

To my delight, I read yesterday in a trippy astrological newsletter that I subscribe to, but never read (the exact opposite of my normal routine)some interesting stuff.

I paraphrase....

If you want to have a happier life and feel better about yourself, just turn your back on reality! The higher your expectations, coupled with an unrealistic positive attitude and unfounded optimism, you are just more likely to accomplish great things in life!!

So,I'm being George the past several days! I'm not allowing myself to feel fat, or old, or unmotivated. I'm feeling the opposite, Sexy and a force to be reckoned with.

It has been fun and paying off in diamonds.

A very serendipitous two days searching for the universal password.

TEN GOOD WEEKLY THINGS

Once again!! Has a week flown by already!! Lisa has inspired me to keep track, usually in my head, the things that have made this week special. So, here we go...

1) Thanks to Netflix, I saw Walk the Line and CRASH. Both were really excellent movies, but CRASH...certainly the best movie I have seen in some time. If it had not won the academy award, I more than likely would have missed this superb movie.

2) After years of resistance (why????) I am reading THE DAVINCI CODE...and can't put it down.

3) Went to my bosses house for a barbecue on Saturday! We all sat around and watched the guys play ping-pong and ate Snickers Salad. I got the recipe! Divine.

4) My long lost gal pal C. sent me a belated birthday gift. Unexpected and lovely. The best kind of gifts!

5) Found the "Where I'm From" template for writing a poem. It was moving and emotional and a terrific self-examining experience. I can not wait to share it with my family and see the poetry they come up with!

6) Suddenly, overnight, I see yellow daffodils everywhere!!

7) At work, we are approaching our manic period (runs till October there abouts) and I am becoming acquainted with some fun accounts! Yea!! Minor League baseball clubs, little leagues, golf courses etc. etc. etc.

8) Went to the local comedy club, Snickerz, and had a blast! Found out I have passes at work and that means.....I can go whenever I want! Oh, how I love to laugh.

9) Finally being able to go out into the yard and do yard work!! This year, my yard is going to be a masterpiece. (hahahah!!!)

10) Joe came home!! This was the best of the week's events. I enjoyed the quiet and peacefulness, but I missed him more. Guess I would trade all that for him!

The Women in my Family

The Greatest Generation

I have a large box of photographs that my mother gave to me several years ago. The box contains the key to the past as long as it is passed on. I can look at the above photograph and know exactly who each little person is though the year must be around 1930. My daughter will know who each of the young children is, but will her children?

My mother is the youngest on the right. It is astonishing how much my sisters youngest resembles my Mom. Uncanny.

My Aunt Pat is on the left. My mom was born a year to the day to Aunt Pat. They shared a birthday. Aunt Pat was a major Tomboy in her day. She was a baseball fanatic and could pop off statistics memorized from the back of baseball cards like nobodies business. She was a beauty and married an Irishman who my Grandmother brought home for her. Funny, but true.

Aunt Maura is in the middle, the eldest. I am named after her and she is my Godmother. Maura is a nickname for Mary. In our family, so is Mollie! Maura left home at 18 and married a German!! I wonder if Grandma ever got over that. As the eldest, Maura was responsible for running the household because Grandma worked days as a nurse.

More about Grandma later.

Maura left home as quickly as possible. She is a fabulous cook, a highly regarded party giver, and most recently had cataract surgery because she was having trouble driving at night and it was interfering with her night life.

Uncle J., her German husband, died in 1982 of a heart attack. He died in her arms. He was tooling around in the garage, and she sensed something was wrong. She found him on the floor.

We all miss Uncle J. to this day. When ever we gather together, we talk about him and how big of a void in the family he left.

She remarried in 1995. They are quite a couple. He is about 95! He came over and ate at her house every night and she decided it would be easier to marry him if she was going to keep on feeding him. "I never expected him to live this long!" she exclaims.

Aunt Pat passed away in 2003. She had a long battle with cancer.

I will miss her till my dying day.

TEN WEEKLY GOOD THINGS

INSPIRED BY LISA

This is going to be tough this week. It began like a fresh summer day bright with possibilities and then a thunderstorm ruined everything. That is how the past week felt. But, that is the point of this exercise, to dwell not on the bad, but on the good!

1) Bridget and I driving and listening to Ibrahim Ferrer singing in Spanish. She flipped open the liner notes and began to read the words aloud in her sweet, halting voice brimming with the emotion of the lyrics.

A broken Shadow
without you
Only the twilight accompanies me now
Now that your love is gone
And there is no happiness for me.

Aimless, I drift
like smoke
through space
searching for you
I may not find you
I may have lost your forever, my love.

I will remember your eyes, your touch
I cannot avoid it
I will suffer, longing for yesterday,
I cannot forget you.

A broken shadow
without you
Only the twilight accompanies me now.
Now your love is gone
I will never feel happiness.

2) I purchased my first MP3. Well, the first one for ME! It is a cheap little thing from Walmart and I loaded up all the space with many of my favorite CD's.

3) I was able to take a long walk down the River Green Way beside the Maumee River. Though spring seems to have lost her way here, some of the fattest Robins I have ever seen did not get the word.

4) Solitude. Peace. Quiet. The deliciousness of being alone.

5) Catching a glimpse of something blue and realizing I was seeing the first crocus of spring in my new home!

6) Completing the 5K on Saturday and shearing off 45 seconds from the last 5K. This is hilarious as well as a good thing.

7) Going through several boxes of old pictures (from the early 90's) and the memories they evoked.

8) Seriously taking a trip by myself next month. Thinking that I really could do it!!

9) The sound of the thunderstorms this week-end.

10) Someone flirted with me last week and by God, it made me feel good!

COUNTDOWN

It has been really tough to practice for the upcoming 10 mile run in Louisville. Bad weather and attitude. Heck, I did not practice for any of the races thus far, why should I change now!! Fact is, the six miler (10K) surprisingly almost killed me. I really thought I could just sashay in and do it.

After all, I have done it before. The above picture was taken by my daughter Bridget several years ago (my hair is so short!!!) after the Danskin Triathlon held at Disneyworld. My sister Kit and I decided to do it together and I had plenty of time to prepare.

Did I? Heck no. I did join the YWCA and swam a grand total of one time. I had to sign up for a bicycle the day we arrived. And he only had some klunkers left. I was only too glad to get one!

We started the event when it was still dark. My daughter was scared for me because we began with the swim in the lagoon. I was concerned about alligators myself, but I guess Walt Disney would not allow us to be eaten alive by 'gators during a charity event. They divided us into age groups to begin the race. As soon as I hit the water I was run over by the enthusiastic nuts trying to jockey into a good position. Within a few strokes, I had to flip over and finish the 400 yards on my back. (In my youth I was a very fast backstoker...it is my event!)

I survived that and jumped on the bicycle for the 10 mile trek that seemed to circumvent the park. My sister came whizzing by me (smart aleck) asking if I was okay. Did I look OK?

I could barely stand up when I jumped off the bike. My butt took the worst of it.

The even ended with a two mile run through the Park itself. That would have been so cool if I had not been cross-eyed by then.

Yet, I finished and have a medal to prove it....and this picture. See the finish line?

So, after enduring that and finishing it without one bit of practice, the 10 mile run should be a piece of cake.

In 12 days I am going to attempt to run up the mountainous roads of Iroquois Park and then down the other side. I have accomplished this three times before.

Can I do it fourth time?

I really need to practice.

The Joy of Easedropping

I did get up and attend the Mastodon Stomp 5K. I was thoroughly pissed because I did not register in time to receive a T-shirt! I will have one. I have a plan to get my hands on one with the help of the Athletic Dept. Why run (if you call that running?!!) if you don't get the cool t-shirt.

As I was standing around waiting for the beginning of the race I could not help but over hear the conversation behind me. I was only half paying attention, so I missed half the details. Unfortunately, the important ones.

It went something like this.

"........and it only costs $19 to join. You run from bar to bar and drink a beer. Dinner afterwards."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, it use to cost an extra $7."

What the hell! I want to join this running club!! Immediately I think it must be a very cool running club for lushes. Now that I think about it, it could be a Running Slither...minus the dinner and on the premise that there is only enough beer for the first 50 people. I crack myself up with that picture in my mind!!

Once Joe and I were in this run in a small town in Kentucky. Before the race started we were given instructions to watch out for the loose gravel on the three mile stretch.

Two teenage kids were in front of us, one turns to the other. "I run for the cheerleaders."

The other replied..........."I run for the danger."

It became a running joke between Joe and I since.

HOME ALONE

My husband has gone down South for an long planned reunion with his family. The details were up in the air as to whether they would return here or just hang out "down there" and find activities that would interest an 11 year old.

They are staying there.

I am home alone for a week!!

I am so happy!! I know this is sort of crazy, but I really enjoy the solitude and the pleasures involved with just yourself to answer to. I want to put my pajamas on at 6pm...so be it. I am okay with just eating that pot of chicken/garbonzo bean soup all week, cool! No worries! Read, read, read!! Yea! yea! yea! No one to come through the front door and shout, "You back there on that computer...you are always on the computer!!" I can be on the computer as much as I want!! Write, write, write! Yea! Yea! Yea!

I miss him already. He left yesterday morning and we have been on the phone no less than six times. My sister told me that once she went to Europe for four weeks and never sent her husband a post card nor called him. I think this is strangely sad. I admire the certainly of the relationship. I know that she knew where he was every minute of every day...because they have been together for so long. I know that I could not do it.

I am going to go to a 5K at IPFW in a few moments. It has turned cold and chilly again after several days of teasing us with Spring like weather. I was hoping to work in the yard and surprise Joe when he arrives home! Maybe I will just rearrange the furniture and hang a few more pictures and surprise him that way.

I am so looking forward to this week stretching out before me.

Skipping around the Rules

RULE 7 -- After the age of 30, it is unseemly to blame one's parents for one's life.

Easy for Roger Rosenblatt to write in Rules for Aging. Let him put on a satin green skirt and dance the jig with ones Mother in front of the most distinguished constituents of the community. Including your friends. Let this happen to you year after year. While you wait for your cue to get up and make a dancing fool of yourself, your Father is signing old Irish love songs in the spot light.

Let Roger compensate for being shipped to another town to attend high school because your parents are hell bent on you receiving a Catholic education! (if only they knew this was not the Catholic schools of their generation!!)

Let Roger cope with his parents being involved with most every aspect of our lives from the time we were in the cradle till we were kicked from the nest...with our walking papers.

Coaching the swim team, car pooling to school, taking us and friends to camp, dragging us to museums, making us go to Mass, and for God's sake, limiting the amount of television we watched.

No No No ... I can never give up blaming them for who I am today!!

The fun part of aging is pretending you are wise......You can quote me on that one.

And I shall....the fabulous Angela of the equally fabulous Life As I See It.

I suggest we change Rule Number One to read "Knowing what Matters and What Does not"

On to Rule Number Two from the book RULES FOR AGING by Roger Rosenblatt...

NOBODY IS THINKING ABOUT YOU.

"Yes I know, you are certain that your friends are becoming your enemies; that your grocer, garbage man, clergyman, SIL, and your dog are all of the opinion that you have put on weight, that you have lost your touch, that you have lost your mind; further more, you are convinced that everyone spends two-thirds of every day commenting on your disintegration, denigrating your work, plotting your assassination. I promise you: Nobody is thinking about you. They are thinking about themselves - just like you."

Hmmmmmmmm.......

Then I have this other quote I read this week-end (thanks to Cynthia Heimel, author extraordinaire)

"When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap."

Here is the connection. I am certain that when I have one of my moments...such as telling Leo of Saw Doctors a complete fib and gushing as I babbled....or the time I spilled a drink all over the lead guitarist of Tempest and his girlfriend, those two leap to my mind immediately....that I am mortified for days.

It is nice to know that it is just a fleeting moment for them, and they never will think about it again. If they perchance ever spot me at another once of their concerts, they will not turn and run in the opposite direction.

I know this rule is riddled with cracks regarding its truthfullness,just like the first rule.

They might not think about you, but they will remember!!

This afternoon as I made my way back to the office I made a mental list of all the people I had thought of during the day.

The guy I met at IPFW, who was born in Harlan, KY. The guy I met today who went to school in Morehead, KY. My Mom, my Dad, the Angel Genie, my daughter Bridget, both my sisters, my pal G. in Florida, and then D. in Florida. My husband, dogs in general, my boss, my co-workers, A. who got her hair cut and it looks so nice and Don Johnson.

I threw in good old Don because I use to fantasize about him all the time years ago and he just popped into my head.

I was so busy thinking about everybody else, that I had little time to obsess about myself.

It was a relief, because I never ever should have gone through MacDonalds and got that double cheeseburger! I wasn't even hungry.

Where was I when it happened?

Rules for Aging

This afternoon at work I shuffled through the mountain of papers on my desk no less than three times. While I was in the middle of the second or maybe the third time, looking for an errant sheet of paper I had already found and absentmindedly misplaced again, I prayed that no one in the tight quarters (one small office barely large enough for one person is shared by four of us...the heat generated is something else!) noticed what I was doing.

Which brings me to mention the book I am reading.....Rules for Aging by Roger Rosenblatt.

Rule # 2......Nobody is thinking about you.

Thank God.

Actually, I am finding this book immensely entertaining in several respects. First, because it so full of common sense. Secondly, why didn't I learn these things long ago when it might have counted. It could have changed direction my life was taking. It's incredible how many times I broke these rules. And I still do!

Each rule is like a little nugget full of wisdom. A light goes off in my head and I think, "oh yea....I sure broke that rule the time I............. (fill in the blank).

Rule # 1 .......... IT DOES NOT MATTER.

"Whatever you think matters - it doesn't."

I can not possibly agree with this one. Sure, I see the possibilities that it is inconsequential if you are late, early, there or not there in the BIG PICTURE of things. 10 days from now let alone 10 years from now, what will it matter if I was at that meeting? Or made that dental appointment? But in the short run, it sure as hell matters.

I see the domino effect.

I wish it didn't matter so much. Maybe that should be the belief that I can age gracefully with. It does not matter as much as I think it does. Or maybe, there are things that I think matter....making a lot of money, living in a big house, driving a nicer car, the material things that are not important. If I loose my job, I will not die or starve. I found that our this summer, that I can find another job. It might not be the same, but I will find another job.

Yet, so many things matter a lot to me. I guess the trick is to have the knowledge and experience to know what is important and is not.

So, the fact that I shuffled through my disorganized mess of paperwork that I drag from my desk to the car and then from the car back to the desk.....it matters that I found what I was looking for.

And it matters that the guys did not notice, or comment, that I am one disorganized chick.

Ten Good Things Weekly

Lisa's Ten Good Things Weekly

This is Lisa's idea and a pretty darn good one. On every Monday she is going to come up with ten good things that happened to here during the past week.

Pretty cool to focus on the good things in life. I carried a piece of paper around, tucked in my purse and when something nice happened, I would jot it down. Even while I was driving down the road. So some of them are difficult to read!

1) LSU beating Duke!! I will never forgive Duke and Christian Laettner for hitting the miracle shot at the final buzzer of the Regional tournament in 1992. If I see it one more time on TV I will scream. Sure, it was a great shot and he was 100% from the field and on the free throw line. A perfect game. But this was our Un-Forgettable UK Wildcat Team!! Anyone who beats Duke gets my total support!

2) I made a promise to myself a long time ago when I first started the journal that I would not write a hair entry. Oh how I have wanted to write a hair entry since then!! So many time!! But, this is not a hair entry, this is just acknowledging that I walked into Great Clips and took my chances! You never know what might happen to you and your head. I got a very nice cut. It looks great. For that, I am so grateful.

3) I participated in the 10K (six + miles) in Louisville this week-end. Around mile four, my hip went our of joint Oh the pain! The pain!! But, I did not quit as much as I wanted. I finished it. Barely, but I finished it. I really need to practice more...

4) I lost five pounds in two weeks. Yea!

5) After the race Bridget and I drove around and I always take them out to eat. I wanted the delicious fish at the woman Suburban Club Fish Fry. A great place that use to be a hole in the wall in the South End of Louisville. It was only open from April until November and then, only on Saturdays. When the Papa John stadium was built for the University of Louisville football team, eminent domain was the finish to the Fish Fry. A brand new modern building was completed in the same neighborhood. The fish is still wonderful and scrumptious. And it was open on Saturday!! I purchased two pounds of it. There goes my diet...but I had just hobbled through six miles (+)!!!

6) Reading this great book...can't remember the name, something like The Fairy Princess of Brooklyn...and in it was this great story about her meeting Mick Jagger. I wish I had lived in NYC during the 1960's.

7) The sun was shining brightly on Sunday morning and I was able to take a few pictures with my new camera.

8) I made a trip to The liquor barn in Louisville for a b couple e double r un for Joe. I found a bag of candy assorts that I love. I carried it around the store and then right before I checked out, I put it back. Shocker.

9) I couldn't remember the exact birthday of my long lost pal C., but I knew it was sometime last week. I put together a surprise birthday box of goodies and sent it off! It arrived on the right day! Her birthday!


10) Border Book store and their fabulous CD selection. I was able to find exactly what I was looking for, an Ibrahim Ferrer album. I have listened to it about 100 times since I found it. I love this guys voice. I was so crushed when I found out that he passed away in 2001.

This was a great exercise and I look forward to doing this every week!!

IT WAS REALLY BONO

BANG A GONG GET IT ON

The lights were turned up. The roadies took the stage now.

We were left with HAY HAY HAY ringing in our ears.

Magic hung in the air.

We called our limo ride. He informed us he would be there at 1130. We retired to the bar to wait. We ordered two more gigantic 32 ounce beers to split between the four of us.

We were talking of non-important things and suddenly Linda stands straight up, points and announces. "THERE IS LEO!!!" (guitar player and cutie-extraordinaire.)

By golly he had entered the bar to talk and meet the fans. How cool is that? I mean really, how cool is that??

Linda and I go running over there and she asks if she can take his picture with me! He immediately puts his arm around me and she snaps this occasion with my cell phone!

Then I begin to babble. "Leo, our cousin in Galway is the God-father to your child." He looks terribly confused and frowns. "You don't have any children, do you?" He shakes his head no.

Damn.

I go back to the table. I tell Omega what I have done. "You big dummy! It's not Leo! It one of the original band members who is no longer with the band. It's not our cousin, but the brother of the man she married." She shook her head in sympathy of my Larry David-ness.

"Do you think I should go apologize to him. Tell him I was confused, it was Bono and not him?"

Then, she asked if she needed to save the picture. I stupidly told her it saved automatically.........

It's gone.

But the magic lives on.

And I found out they are head lining at the Irish Festival in Dublin Ohio this August.

I'll set things straight with Leo then.

LADIES AND GENT'S ----- THE SAW DOCTORS

There was not a soul anywhere! Only a guy outside standing on the street yelling "Tickets! Tickets!"

Are we at the right place!!? Where is everyone! Les was gone. The streets were deserted. It was pitch black, except for the Agora sign. The "O" was burnt out.

With some trepidation we went in. Down a dimly lit hallway and one turn to the left...there it was, the double glass doors to enter the Agora.

As soon as the doors opened, the heat, the smell, the noise engulfed us and sucked us in.

I heard them! They were already on stage. I ran into the ballroom blindly without looking back. I ran right into the back of the theatre into a thickly packed crowd. "How long have they been on stage?" I screamed, because he could not hear me any other way over the crowd, "About 20 minutes.", he relied.

Oh hell.

They were great. They were marvelous. They were wonderful. They sang and sang. N-17 was performed very early. We all sang along. As we did to most the songs. New ones were intertwined with all the classics.

I wanted to call Joe and let him listen to SHARE THE DARKNESS, one of the songs he likes....

Why don't we share the darkness tonight
Ah life's too short for wasting
For ifs and might have been's
Life's too short for wondering if
You could have lived your dreams
And its way too short for loneliness
We don't have to be
Now that we trust each other
Why don't you stay with me?
Why don't we share the darkness tonight
Make it warm and burning bright
I'll not say nothing
I'll be polite
Why don't we share the darkness tonight

........but I knew all he would hear would be people around me singing along with the dreamy lyrics.

So I enjoyed it meself, with a 32 ounce beer in one hand and waving my other arm in tune with the music and in a brotherhood with the others in the room.

They left the stage and naturally we coaxed them back on chanting/singing the soccer anthem that is a major part of the show, provided by the concert goers.

And they returned!! And did about six more songs.

Things get a little blurry here. And loud and sentimental. A big delightful surprise was their performance of BANG A GONG....!!

And they finished with HAY WRAP.

Then, they left the stage and the magic lingered.

LUCK OF THE IRISH

I handed over the concert tickets to Omega, knowing she would never misplace nor lose them. I breathed a gigantic sigh of relief with the passing of the tickets. That type of pressure is a real Buzz Kill.

We went to dinner at a marvelous restaurant down around the corner called John Q's. We had thick juicy wonderful steaks. We knew that it was imperative that we have a large substantial meal in our stomachs before heading to the Agora Ballroom for the concert.

We had called ahead to check on the number of bands to determine our departure time. The time on the tickets was 8pm, but Omega thought that they would take the stage a lot later if there was an opening act. There was, so we were going to take our time and not get there too early.

No front row for us. Omega has been there before and assured me I did not want the front, because a trip to the bathroom would be almost impossible, if not life threatening.

We arrived at the hotel lobby and they immediately asked for taxi service. The doorman immediately went to work jumping out into the street and whistling! Omega handed over the tickets to everyone. I had my ticket clutched tightly in my hand. My money was in my right pocket, my cell phone in the left. I was not going to take the camera. Boo-hoo.

No taxi's were available. It was a grand night for the taxi cab business and none were available!

Suddenly, there appeared our savior! Les! We were going to take a limo to the Agora!!! Since there were no taxi's at large, the doorman asked Les, who was a regular operator at the hotel, to take us!

It really wasn't a limo, but it was a beautiful ride in a brand new Towncar.

"Where are you going?"

"To the Agora!!"

"What!! I thought they closed the Agora! Only homeless go there now!"

We arrived in style and asked Les if he could pick us up after the concert. He wanted to go drink a few soda pops too...but he was picking up customers from the Airport, he might maybe could retrieve us. He handed over his card.

"How much?" we asked.

"Hell, I don't know." he replied.

I love this guy.

Omega took care of him, and into the Agora we went.

It was pretty scary looking.

DISPENSATION

It was so bitter cold! So cold that I watched the end of the parade from inside the building sheltered from the elements.

It is little fun when you are not part of the crowd, so I made my way to the bar and began to watch the NCAA tournament games and ordered an Irish Coffee.

Because.......of dispensation. The Catholic Bishop announced from the alter last Sunday that God understood about St. Paddy Day. (I have given up alcohol for Lent).

The bar became totally crazy in time. Omega called me asking how to find the hotel...at least that is what it sounded like she was asking. It was difficult to hear her over the roar of the masses huddled together bellied up to the bar.

I met her in the room a little while later.

"Where is your luggage?" she asked as I sat on one of the beds with a Sam Adams in one hand, and the tickets to the Saw Doctors in the other.

"In the car!"

"And the car is.........????"

"I'm not sure. I left it with someone at the front of the hotel."

"You mean you just handed over your car over to someone????!!!!!!"

"Yes......gosh, I sure do hope he works with the hotel!!!"

Not to fear. He did.

Third Largest St. Paddy parade in the WORLD!!

Going into Cleveland I knew that the St. Paddy Parade was starting around 1pm in the downtown area. By the luck of the Irish, it was going to be ending right in the vicinity of the Marriott hotel, where we were staying.

That was the good news.

The bad news is that the weather was beautiful, through a trifle frigid, and close to a quarter million people were expected to converge to the downtown area.

I was trying to time my arrival to avoid being re-routed by the parade, thus ruining my Map Quest instructions and throwing everything into a flux. I was successful and rolled into the Public Square area a little before noon. Yet, too early to check into the hotel!

I did have to drive around downtown and circle the area to find the hotel! I was on the verge of rolling down a window and asking help from one of the many police officers (now they are my friend) positioning around the parade route area. As I located the nearest office, lo and behold, he was standing underneath the (suble) Marriott signage. I had to circle the block one more time, looking for a parking structure. There was none to be found, so I entered the front of the hotel and was immediately pounced upon by a guy with a clip board. He opened the car door for me, asked if I was staying at the hotel, informed me that it was crazy (duh) and too early to check in, the lot was full but they would park my car, return it when I wanted to retrieve my luggage, I could charge valet parking to my room (which I still did not have), here is your ticket.....have a nice day.

I grabbed my camera, the wonder hat and my make up bag. Silently offering up a prayer to God that I had pulled the rollers out of my hair moments after exiting the Expressway.

If you ever see a woman driving down Expressway with a ton of rollers in her hair, looking like a space alien, it is more than likely me.

I hit the streets and began to mill with the crowd forming to watch the parade.

It was bitter cold, and I was in awe of all the highschool age kids who are immune to sub-zero temperatures. There were literally thousands and thousands of them running about with nothing more that green t-shirts over another long sleeved t-shirt, walking huddled forward, laughing and yelling at each other and blowing those large green plastic horns that are inevitable at these venues. And the teenage girls with short mini skirts and knee high green socks!! Arms crossed over their chests for warmth.

Oh to be young!

To describe the crowd and do it justice is beyond my capabilities. It was like a living breathing thing, constantly changing and growing...and crossing the streets.

As the crowd reached critical mass, I realized there was no way I was going to be able to see the parade unless I climbed up in something, like the shoulders of a six foot ten strong (very strong) super man. Not going to happen.

So I wandered back to the hotel area knowing that the parade was going to make a turn after marching down Superior and end at the Public Square, directly by the Hotel.

It was there I got some nice photo's with my new camera.

Every single Pipe and Drum band in the Ohio area was in the parade. It was fantastic!

WAY TO GO OHIO

Since moving to Indiana I have put in a considerable amount of windshield time. Either we are traveling back to Our Old Kentucky Home or heading to some new, always exotic location. It is some sort of phenomenon that so many major cities are only two to three hours away from Ft. Wayne!!

I traveled alone to meet my Sister, Omega, and her friends in Cleveland on Friday St. Patricks Day. We had MAJOR plans. The first of which, for me, was to get there.

Thank God that on the eighth day He created Map Quest. Map Quest has yet to fail me. I marvel each time I land at the correct destination in one piece. The trip to Cleveland was no different.

I started driving about an hour later than I wanted to leave, but all was cool. The sun was shining and I was stoked and excited. I had the tickets to the show we were seeing that night in the zipped pocket of my purse. I knew this for a certain fact. For two days I had worried that I was going to leave the tickets behind...or lose them. One of the various neuroses that I harbor in my otherwise perfect self.

One of the other neuroses (or maybe one and the same) is my obsessive compulsion to read the directions over and over until I have them memorized, then I fear I have memorized the wrong thing, so I look at them over and over again.

The Map Quest mile by mile instructions were laying on the passenger seat, under my magnifying glasses for quick reference.

And so I traveled from Indiana down Route 24 to meet up with I80/I90 East in Akron and then a straight shot into Cleveland.

Once I hit the Ohio Turnpike, I wanted to put the pedal to the metal. Anyone who has traveled Route 24 will understand. It is a connection from Ft. Wayne to the pathways of America. And it is a two laner. A miserable excruciating ride when you are behind semi trucks and too chicken to pass because your eyesight ain't what it use to be and God knows where you put your long distance glasses since the move last June!!!

Everyone that has ever traveled through Ohio knows this...there are cops everywhere on the Expressways and they mean business.

I was speeding along at a pleasant 75 passing everyone and knowing that I acting irresponsible and tempting the Speeding Ticket god's to zap me down. I was relieved that half way through the trip a SUV came speeding past me!!! Hurray!! I was just waiting for someone to do just that so I could catch a ride on their tail!

And so I did. I was reluctant to keep up with him at the 80mph clip he was zoned into. I just kept him in sight the entire last leg of the trip.

As I drew closer to Cleveland I had the incredible urge to re-read the Map Quest instructions again. Exit 141, I'm certain it has to be exit 141, but I will check just the same.

On go the glasses, I place the instructions on the center of the steering wheel and run my thumb down the side to find the line I am searching for....and then I see them! Two State cops sitting on the center mediums each pointed in an opposite direction. My stomach fell, my adrenaline began pumping and I quickly glanced at my speedometer.

Thank God my obsessive-compulsive behavior had caused me to slow down to under 70. I was safe!!!

But not the lead SUV. The police pulled out moments after I passed by and headed around me and in short time had the SUV pulled over.

I did feel bad for him. A ticket on St. Patrick's Day. Bad Luck. He must not be Irish.

But I am.

I obeyed the speed limits as I cruised into downtown Cleveland. Map Quest came through for me once again, and landed me right where I needed to be.

In the midst of the St. Patrick Day Parade in Cleveland.

KISS ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One of my Favorite pictures from the Louisville St. Paddy Parade. How clever is that!!!???

Hoping to catch the parade in Cleveland tomorrow afternoon before the Saw Doctors concert.

Big Day tomorrow!

FIRST LEG OF THE TRIPLE CROWN

I have never run a race in the middle of a thunder storm. It was pretty crazy and thrilling. I figured in the midst of 5,000 people, that lightening strike was not going to hit me.

Bridget and I got there early because I had yet to pick up my packet and running chip. It was like a ghost town, with very few people milling about. I warmed up walking around the concourse of the baseball field keeping an eye on the light show going on above the Ohio River to the North.

As we lined up to begin the race, the heaven opened up and everyone was drenched. we chanted, "START THE RACE!!! START THE RACE".
And they started the race!

It poured at times, it drizzled at times. I overheard a runner imitating Forest Gump, "Sometimes it was stinging rain!!!" as the rain hit us straight in the face coming in hard from the North!

Despite the lightening and the OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHINNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG and AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHINNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG when the flashes and cracks were particularly close, it was wonderful and exhilarating.

I ran the whole way and had a terrible race time. Humiliating race time. Demoralizing race time.

Yet, I loved every minute of it.

On to the 10k (six miles) in two weeks. This time, I am going to practice more.

BLENDED FAMILY BLUES

This has been a week filled with a lot of downers. A lot of drama happening within Joes family back home. Being so far away, there is little we can do about. There is a lot of tension in our home that I can only surmise is a result of the situation there. There is a certain detatchment when it is not your family involved. The emotional reaction is different. It is actually pragmatic and logical. Maybe that is the cause of the tension.

A month ago I called my mother and she was very upset. My sister had just left after a visit and had revealed to Mom that she had a birth defect that affects the attachment of the spinal cord to the brain.

It was as if someone had placed their hand around my heart and squeezed. Actually, it ends up that it is a common birth defect that usually goes unnoticed unless there are symptoms. Kit began having migraines about two years ago and they had tried everything, seen many doctors until finally a MRI found the defect. It is not life threatening. It is life style altering, no more running, aerobics etc, and she is learning pain controlling techniques.

Every time I hear of my Dad falling or being ill, that hand squeezes my heart.

So, I understand how Joe is feeling. There is just nothing I can do about it. Just support anything they decide to do.....about it.

Always when one thing goes wrong, a multitude follows. Something is very wrong with the washing machine drain. I won't go into the horrid details....but it is always something. I am toying with the idea of calling the plumbing/heating/air conditioner people...in other words the Life Savers, to come over this afternoon and fix the problem.

CA CHING.

We are going to Louisville this week-end. I am running in the first leg of the Triple Crown, a 5K. I have been practicing all week. Last night I was pretty close to finishing a three mile jog. I'm certain I will make it tonight!!

We have booked a couple of suites at a fancy hotel in downtown Louisville for him and his kids to meet and have a long week-end together. I have decided to back out of the equation and let them have their time together. I will go hang out with Bridget!

The St. Paddy parade is this Saturday in Louisville and there is a rumor that my BIL is going to have a float! I heard this last week and have tried to hear the particulars such as, can I help build it and most important, can I be on it!!

This is a man who overnight made a Trojan Rabbit so large that they had to dip to get it under the electrical wires. Why? Just to put it on a friends front yard as a SPITE joke. Much to the astonishment of their neighbors!

The Spite jokes get out of hand...but that point I am making is that if he can do that, a St Paddy Day float will be a piece of cake.

Just writing this has made me feel better. I guess that if you can project yourself far enough into the future you can endure what ever hand fate has dealt you at the moment.


ST PADDY DAY IS EIGHT DAYS AWAY!!!!

TWEAKING & TWISTING

Thank goodness I discovered that I could adjust the colors on this blog. I could barely read it before due to my monitor having a seizure. I should really purchase another one.

The warranty had just run out. Isn't that the way it always is?

Now I just have to figure out how to tweak some other stuff. Like my hand. It feels as if it is permanently "asleep'...as in, "Oh my arm feels like it feel asleep". But only when I stretch it out to use the mouse.

I may have some type of pinched nerve!!!

Oh this is turning into a Mish Mosh.

I also had a moment of insanity and signed up for the Triple Crown of Running. Some where in my deluded mind I thought, "Piece of cake, I have three weeks to get up to speed to run three miles."

Wait a minute, three weeks! It is actually less than two. And I have only gone out once and completed a very rusty one mile. God help me.

The pool of women at WORK is dwindling. The "boss" I had for two months, who was busted into another position, has resigned.......under very shady circumstances. I will never know what happened, as I am not yet connected to the rumor mill. All I can surmise is that something happened to hasten the inevitable. She was on the way out. She seemed very unhappy since the day I met her.

My birthday is Saturday and it could not have come at a better time because somewhere in this deluded head of mine, I have thought I have been this age for sometime. Meaning, I did not enjoy the full effect of being the younger age!!!!

There is no hint of spring in the ground here. No first daffodils or tiny crocus in sight! In my garage I have a bag of pink tulips I neglected to plant this past fall, I wonder if I get them into the ground this week-end they might make an appearance?

And today is Ash Wednesday! Last year I tried to give up alcohol for Lent and failed miserably. This year I am going to try again. I toyed with the idea of giving up chocolate and any variations of cakes and cookies....so maybe I will throw that in there too.

St. Patrick's Day is 16 days away!!!!

(If I give up all my Sunday breaks from the Lenten fast, could I have one St. Paddy Day?)

WHY COULDN'T I WIN THE $385 MILLION

All I have to say is that I am glad today is behind me. Somewhere inside of me is a perfectionist. It is laughable because I have an over riding Devil May Care attitude.

Thank God Survivor is on tonight and tomorrow is Friday.

St. Patrick's Day is 22 days away!!

TOIL AND TROUBLE

I am distracted. From blogging. I can not find the time to slip into the local libraries and create a work of joy and passion. At one time I was able to do this job with half my brain tied behind my back. Now I find the standards are higher, the pressure is more intense, the demands are non-ending.

The week flies by.

I am beginning to put the names with the faces. I am beginning to know who does what, who is on the fast track, who is a good worker, who is a complainer, who to avoid, who is bitchy, and who can get things done.

It is very different from the Center in Lexington. A lot of the differences are good and some are disappointing. That's life.

This week one of the Big Wigs is coming to our Center for a visit. He gets to ride with me. Oh joy. A year ago, I would have been in a panic. Now it is just an inconvenience because I have to clean my car, get totally organized for that day, and get my hair done.

One must impress in all ways possible.

TIMBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dag gone it if I haven't gone and fallen again! Slipped on ice that I did not see. It was hiding under that light cover of snow.

I felt the foot start to lose contact and for one brief moment I thought I might have enough momentum going to right myself.

Nope. Fell like a ten ton Lizzie crashing down on my left hip. I was too shocked to even scream. And it hurt like hell. There was no one around ...... always the first thought, "Did someone see!!!"....and only then did I wonder if I was hurt, really hurt.

I was able to walk it off, brush off the snow. I believe I was stunned. All in all, the arch on the left foot is pulled, my left shoulder is smarting and I am going to have a sizable bruise on my hip. But, I'm okay.

How much longer? This makes the fourth fall in less that a year. One of these days I'm going to go down and break something. I must stop this absurd hobby of mine!!!

Resurgence of a Love Affair

This past weekend I wandered into EAR-X-TACY on Bardstown Rd. in Louisville to kill some time. I ended up purchasing three CD's. It easily could have been 30. I walked around the store hanging all my selections on my arm and when I was finished I allowed myself only three. It was tough to narrow it down.

While driving down south earlier I picked up a handful of CD's to make the ride with me. I choose them without too much thought. I think I just grabbed! One happened to be Wilson Picketts Greatest Hits. I remember buying this CD, maybe in 1999. Bridget and I had been listening to the radio, the terrific college station out of G.-town Ky (station no longer exists much to EVERYONES sorrow). We sat in the parked car listening to the very end of his version of HEY JUDE with Duane Allman adding the most unforgettable guitar! Right up there rivaling the Beatles' version. (snicker and eye roll...yea right, but it is very good).

I have been a Wilson Pickett fan since I was in the 6th or 7th grade. I had his album, I believe it was called "The Exciting Wilson Pickett". It contained much of what is on the greatest hits album! Funky Broadway, Midnight Hour, Mustang Sally...

I played that album over and over and over. I believe Judy, my close friend from down the street, tried to teach me how to Boogaloo and Shingaling to those songs. She was a terrific dancer. I am strickly an Irish Jig dancer!

I played that album until it turned gray.

I had this tiny little record player, solid black, that I could put an attachment on the spindle and play 45's. And man, did I have a lot of 45's. Most my Beatle song's were in that format.

Driving down the interstate this week end I thinking about all those albums that I owned, collected and loved. Trying to remember them. The Beatles Second Album was my very first LP. Quickly followed by A Hard's Day Night. Judy had Meet The Beatles, so I did not want to waste my money duplicating what we already had. I won sergeant Peppers Lonely Heart's Club Band in a drawing at the downtown record store in Lexington. I passed it everyday on my walk to the Greyhound Bus station to ride the "greasy bus" home. It almost made those two years of bus riding worth it, but not quite.

I had the Monkee's. For some reason, I think it may have been being 12 years old, I adored the Monkees.

I had Paul Revere and the Raiders. Same reason.

I had Wilson Pickett. I had the Temptations and the Supremes album from a TV show they did. It was wonderful and I played it a million times too.

I had Rubber Soul.

I had the McCoys' HANG ON SLOOPY. Once again, I was 12!!

My collection of LP's was small. Yet, I remember those albums and their covers as if they are in my hands and I am preparing to slide the albums on the drop spindle so I could lay on my bed in my pink room and day dream listening to all that, what is now, classic music.

For 15 years I collected records. My collection was so large that it was a gigantic hassle to move it. And that is precisely the reason why I lost it. Lazy. Too heavy to carry down from the third floor. I left it in storage at the apartment building and when I went back to reclaim it, I was told that it was gone. That there was nothing up there. The neighbors across the hall had moved, and obviously they took it along with all their things in storage.

I was torn up. I had only myself to blame. In the back of my mind I suspected that the record collection sat in the managers apartment rather than taken away by the innocent family who lived across the hall.

It was one hell of a collection. From 1964 - 1978. Probably worth a small fortune in 2006 dollars.

I collected albums again from 1979 till I sold my whole collection at a yard sale in 2003. It ranks up there with one of the stupidest things I have ever done. Once again, I was so tired of moving it around!!!

As punishment, I had avoided buying music for years. I had a handful of CD's. Sort of re-collecting my lost stuff. Allman Brothers, Todd Rundgren, Eric Clapton, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Guns-N-Roses, Neil Young.

Last year, I discovered purchasing used CD's via the internet, and Oh My God have I ever started collecting again. Like Gang Busters. Crazy stuff. I buy it having never heard it! So far, I have been very lucky. Only one or two I have cringed when I push it into the player in the vehicle.

Ear-X-tacy is like a candy store. Used CD's along with the new stuff. No one can beat this place for finding off the wall stuff. It ranks right up there with Amazon.

I picked up Macy Gray for $5 and I only this morning have taken her out! It is a terrific album. Now I have "Cuba Cuba" in there. And "Oh Brother Where Art Thou" is on standby.

I have an Ashley McIsaac album on the way too.

It is out of hand!

And absolutely terrific!!

Running with sissors

(Lexington Cemetery)

I am home alone. Jumping up and down on the bed. Running with sissors. Drinking milk out of the jug. All that good stuff when no one is watching.

I made the four+ hour trip home yesterday because my Mom needed me. I could tell by the timbre in her voice Thursday. So I went. Watching my parents age is excruciating. My Mom spoke to me with her head down, not looking me in the eye, that she hoped she never became a burden to us children. That if her mind began to weaken, if her body failed her, she just hoped that she would not have to burden us children.

Bull hockey. Not about what she said, but that she should have to worry. It KILLS me. I know so many of us are there now, watching our parents fail, struggle to remain independent. I try to always make light of it. She will never be a burden to us. After all, there are six of us to spread her.....to take care of her if need be.

I'm babbling.

I kinda, sort of changed the subject and recalled one of the family legends. Aunt Pat and Grandma (my Mom's Mom) had a face off. Grandma had been staying with Pat because she had fallen. Grandma had wanted my other Aunt (Maura) to leave her husband in Texas and return to NYC to take care of her. Maura was the eldest girl, it was her duty. Maura refused. Pat was left with taking Grandma in. This is not a sob story. Grandma owned a home in the Bronx surrounded by extended family. She had fallen and was recovering. Grandpa had passed away several years prior.

Blah blah blah.

Grandma was...... how do I put this...not a sympathetic character. In every picture ever taken of her, she never smiled. She scared the Hell out of me. This is an evaluation held by every grandchild.

Everyone. All 15 of us.

Pat told her, "Mom, we are going to Ireland. You will be fine!"

And Grandma put the curse on her.

"YOU WILL NEVER SEE ME ALIVE AGAIN."

Of course she died. Pat had to come home from Ireland.

It really is not funny. It is actually scary. Grandma had the "gift". And other powers.

Anyway...I babble because it is Sunday night and it has snowed and I raced to the cemetary and tried to get a picture of The Wiggins girl catching snow flakes.

And Pittsburg is winning the Super Bowl. There is one hell of a party going on at Omega's house. (she is married to a great guy from Pittsburg).

DRIED UP

For the first time since beginning to journal on line, I feel like I have dried up. I have spent over two years babbling about everything from High School to Ireland and then back again.

I think my inspiration sprang from my surroundings in Kentucky. There was always something available to spark a memory or throw my mind into thinking mode. Every road, every corner, every season, a song, people, weather, cemeteries, could open the creative doors. There seems to be nothing around to prod me into writing an ingenious entry!!

I have only written five pieces on Alphawoman this month!!! Five!!! And I just got back from a vacation! And I almost have nothing to say about it. Incredible. I can't figure out what is wrong with me.

The upside has been that I am reading books again.

My long lost buddy emailed me this week end. I am so looking forward to seeing her in person soon. Though neither one of us has broached the subject as of yet, I know it is just around the corner.

It has sent me into a tailspin! I wonder if she could even recognize me now that I ma well into middle age. The last time she saw me I was a smug skinny 30 year old. I am no longer smug nor skinny. I made an emergency visit to the drug store to stock up on miracle moisturizer and hair color.

I began a diet this morning! So far, so good.

I am about to commit to running the Triple Crown in Louisville beginning in Mid-March. I just need to check the dates to ensure there is not a conflict with The Saw Doctor concert in Cleveland on the 17th. My knee seems to have healed up nicely, time to tear it up again.

I figure that in six weeks, I should be ready to see her again. I will plan it so that I can saw breathlessly, "I just finished the 5K and was XXXXX in my age group."

Then she can say, "What a coincidence, I just turned down my XXXXX proposal of marriage."

It will be just like old times.

PARADISE - FACT OR FICTION

What can one say about Jamaica that has not been said before. The weather was perfect. The skies were picture postcard fabulous. The Caribbean waters were warm and inviting. The beaches were white and full of tiny little shells. The fact that they were broken or partial shells made it seem all that more magical. A perfect island to seek rest and relaxation.

Is there anything I did not like about this West Indies paradise?

I am not all that crazy to return anytime soon. It was nice, it was great to get away and land in 80 degree weather and leave the cold dark mornings of the mid-west behind. I have been to two islands in the Caribbean, Nassau and now Jamaica. In both places I felt very uncomfortable at times.

At the airport I wanted to bitch slap the porter. I had to go looking for my luggage. I am always terrified of loosing it.(remember Cancun when I was without my suitcase for five long smelly days!!?) He was taking his damn sweet time. The other porters were busting their butts and loading 15 or more bags and hustling out to the bus area. Not my porter. He had my two bags and three others that belonged to some very nice, very patient people. (obviously, they had never been to Cancun during a hurricane).

And then he told me I owed him MORE money...as a tip. Joe arrived and slipped him more money and I went to grab it back. It was a triple tug of war between all of us. They won.

Maybe it is the obvious poverty that surrounds the resorts. It makes me feel too...uncomfortable.

I'd rather go to Ireland or Spain, maybe Italy. Paradise is wonderful but I guess I am more of an adventurer than a tourist.

NO ONE UNDERSTANDS YOU...

But the Music do....

WATCHING THE WHEE (John Lennon)

Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com

The fabulous and unprecedented Jennifer offered to help me add music to my blog! I am so excited. I have so many musical selections that I would love include to represent ME that I hardly know where to begin!

Let's see....My Mariachi music. Don't think Mexican restaurant, think Antonio Bandares in Desperado.

And then there is my kick butt Celtic Music. My fabulous Ashley MsIssac and his screaming fiddle with the unbelievable bass and drums...

I can not forget to include my beloved Buena Vista Social Club with its smooth tones and silky voices....

What about my absolute favorite Irish band The Saw Doctors. But which song? The lovely and haunting Clare island? The rollicking HAY WRAP? Or the quintessential N-17?

I can't decide. I can't just limit it to one. One song does not, could not define me, my blog or which way the wind is blowing on any particular day!

I no longer have a teenage living under my roof to keep me informed on what's hot and what's not. She is no longer around to roll her eyes at me, teach me the latest dance moves, or tell me, "For God's sake do not leave the house wearing that!!!". We all need a Cool Monitor to keep us abreast of the latest.

This is why I am about 100 years behind everything that is going on in the "Cool Side" of the life. I have to face it, I have climbed the mountain and reached the crest of Coolness. I am presently tumbling down the other side, falling faster and faster with each passing day. Thankfully, Joe has made/is making the climb a lot slower and able to keep some semblance of coolness about him. He tells things now, even though I am suspicious, he is usually right.

I bring this all up because I was searching around on the vehicle radio the other day and heard the most fabulous heavy metal rock and roll head banging song ever! I rushed into the house shouting out the song's name . Joe knew immediately what I was talking about (a lot to be said for being with someone for years and years, you can get away with being crazy around them, because they understand totally). He gave me the name of the band and offered...(clued me in)....that it had a pretty good musical video too.

I found it on line.

It was depraved. It was revolting and disgusting. Totally sick.

I loved it.

I now have the CD. Whenever I dare, I push it in and turn it up. I can not help myself from grooving to the music . My heads moves from side to side, back and forth, front to back, gyrating. I let my hair fly. I close my eyes. My shoulders move. My butt dances on the seat. I look like I am being hit with an electric jolt. I can't help it, the music gets to me in some deep deep place.

As I was rocking away this morning at the worlds longest stop light, I suddenly wondered if one of my co-workers, bosses, or customers could be watching me from one of the surrounding cars?!!! I stopped for a beat. "Oh hell with it", I began to jerk and gyrate around again.

If Bridget had been with me she would have been totally mortified.

I wonder if I asked Jennifer to load that baby up.......?

Montego Bay

First Day

We arrived mid-morning. An uneventful plane ride other than it took so long to get there! I had a window seat and surprisingly it was a clear, unobscured by clouds, passage to the West Indies island of Jamaica. Flying high you have no idea where you are. I assumed Florida was below, but it could have been somewhere else. The coves and channels were busy with activity. Boats moving at the slowest pace imaginable 37,000 feet below me.

The pilot came on to announce we were about 15 minutes out (at least it sounded like he said that) and below us is the island of Cuba.

Cuba!!!!

I strained to take it in. A dark brown coast line with no sign of movement...not one single boat, not one single building, no sign of any beaches. I was lost in thought as we left Cuba behind, the ocean below a fury of white caps and secluded specs of land barely visible above the dark and aqua waters.

Then we landed. Sunshine and sand and the smell of salt water. White clouds drifting lazy in a brilliant blue sky. As we disembarked, so did our clothes! We were whisked through customs and our luggage was quickly attached to a porter who would keep an eye on it while we were led into what I call, the recovery room! Sandles Inn has a beautiful reception area where you can refresh yourself by drinking the famous Red Stripe beer and slip into something much more island-like than winter-ish.

Off to the hotel, which is on the other side of the airport. A five minute drive. Joe and I came prepared with plenty of one dollar bills and the more serious fives.

Within an hour we were on the public beach right across the street from the hotel. I have been up since before the crack of dawn, and had little to eat and upon landing, several island drinks, so I was feeling ......crafty.

I figured this, if we buy something from all the street vendors at the beginning, they would leave us alone the duration of our stay! So we spread the wealth that first afternoon! I had Muril make a beautiful beach dress for me. Custom fitted. I asked her not to tell me the measurements as she quickly wrote them down. She was to return on Wednesday with the finished product.

Then Jacob, who ran the little shack on the corner of the beach. There was no way to avoid him, as the steep steps to the sand passed his tiny business. He had everything you wanted, if you wanted trinkets and trash! Island jewelry is his specialty and I am now the proud owner of several of his pieces.

Then there was the Rastafarian. I never caught his name, but he was always there. Early in the morning till late at night. We bought a beautiful walking stick from him. He makes them. Or so he says. I can't imagine when he'd find the time.

And so, my plan played out to perfection. We were now allowed to lounge around the beach without being hassled! Except from the Rastafarian, who never seemed to recognize us! Joe had to tell him every time that we already were the proud owners of his one-of-a-kind walking stick! He'd look from Joe to me and then smile and say, "I remember her!" Geez.

The sun burnt down on us as we laid on the beach and romped in the soothing waters. Then it was time to go back inside the walls of the Sandles Inn and locate the restaurants!

Welcome to Jamaica, Mon.

I WAS DREAMING OF JAMAICA

I awoke early for a Saturday, around 5am and realized I had been dreaming of Jamaica. I'm not certain if it was the breeze from the ocean, or the sound of the surf against the beach, or the sound of the locals laughing and calling to each other as they eased themselves into the Caribbean's dark waters at 6am, every morning around 6am, and waited for the sun to rise and transform the bay into that astonishing aqua blue.

Just the faint remnant of a dream, the memory of warmth on my skin, a trace of fragrant salt water lingering......I knew it was Jamaica.

Joe and I have just returned from a four day, three night dream vacation from the island in the West Indies. The temperature was always perfect. The skies stunning, the Caribbean breathtaking.

I did not want to leave.

RETURN TRIP TO HYDE BROTHERS

I'm finding that every book I open in the Booksellers has something terribly fasinating tucked and hidden in the pages.

It is like finding hidden treasure. I feel guilty taking them out of their long time home and inserting them into the book(s) I am purchasing. I feel like I am doing something very wrong!

I can't help myself. The article from 1981 tucked into Catcher in the Rye was gone. I suppose I am not the only one without scruples.

There's No Place Like Home

I don't bitch about Ft. Wayne as much as I'd like to. I try to respect the people who live here and naturally all the people who live in this area. I have even found that Ft. Wayne has some really cool things going for it, like the Hyde Brothers Bookstore. W., who pointed it out to me, is from Boston and moved to FW two years ago. He says the Bookstore weighed heavily in his decision.

And I'm certain that girlfriend had a lot to do with it too. But, the girl is gone and the bookstore and W. remain. As we drove around he helped me try and find my way more efficiently than that which I have developed. There is something weird about trying to get around this town. The streets change names like there is no tomorrow. If you are told to go out State, it suddenly becomes Maysville. Hobson becomes St. Joe. N. Coliseum is at the East end and the East side is really the South side. Speaking of which, I never can tell where N., S., E., And W. actually are!! It's incredible. W. tells me that it is because there are no landmarks. No landmarks? He's right, my only source of direction when I am lost is the downtown buildings, that is if I can see them. Coliseum stretches around the city like a watermelon rind...it is no help. The expressways totally ignore and bypass the downtown area.

Dave asked me one day, while we were smashed together in our cell of an office room, (four of us in such a small area that the temperature rises to 89 degrees within moments of all of us in there) what I missed most about Kentucky.

Without hesitation I said, "It is much more aesthetically pleasing."

"I don't know what that word means" he replies as he leans towards Matt, "Do you?"

"Sure", Matt says not lifting his head from his computer.

"It means it appeals......to the aesthetics." I told him, being a smart ass.

It means, I can drive from my little town towards Lexington (10 miles to the East!! because you drive directly into the sun in the morning) and see a huge castle perched on a large rise, surrounded by a monstrous wall and cows grazing in the fields surrounding it. Several minutes later I am passing the renown ivy covered stone walls of Keeneland Race Track. Across from it is the Bluegrass Airport, with its extended runway and newly painted breathtaking mural, a mirror of the horse farms surrounding it. Complete with bronze statues of horses. A few yards more there is the famous Calumet Horse farm with its legendary white fences...hundreds of miles of white fences....and white barns with the red trim. And real Thoroughbreds grazing in the fields. Across from it is the exotic animal farm, where there is no telling what sort of large animal you can see grazing in their fields.

I have driven that road so often in my lifetime that I could almost do it blindfolded. I have an indelible memory if it etched on my brain,that I can immediately transport myself into a spring drive down US 60, with the dogwood trees in pink and white blossoms and daffodil's springing to life heralding in the new season.

I lived in Louisville for almost 10 years and loved that city too. It was 50 miles from home, so it was not like I was on the other side of the country.

I have lived in Houston and longed for home. While I was there the people told me that there are only two states, no matter where those people reside, they consider Kentucky and Texas "home".

I tried Tampa for awhile. I was not ready for that. Paradise can wait till I am retired.

Every time I moved back home.....it was a sort of defeat. But goodness gracious, was there ever an upside.

There is no place like home.

("That's just my opinion , I could be wrong. Let's have pie.".....Dennis Miller)

ANTICIPATION

HYDE BROTHERS BOOK SELLERS

Earlier this week W. (the sales trainee) took me to a bookstore located near the downtown area of Ft. Wayne. I have been looking forward and counting the moments till I could return and totally immerse myself in the store.

I love bookstores. I especially love old bookstores. The kind that have been there for many years and many generations. The moment I walked into the building through the back store, I knew I had found something very special. First of all, it smells like books. Old musty books give off an unmistakable odor. I associate it with the joy of reading books. Oh, the places they'll take you!!!

I returned this afternoon and spent an hour in the bookstore. The bottom floor is row after row of stacks straight up to the ceiling. There are ladders on either side of the room,the kind that are on tracks so you can reach every book, even those at the very top! Also, foot ladders are scattered through out the rows for those less intimidating reaches into the bounty.

I was only able to examine a miniscule portion of the fabulous store. I got totally drawn into the "S's". I opened up a book written by George Sand. To my astonishment, it was dated 1848! A first edition translation. I found a paper back of "Catcher in the Rye" complete with a newspaper clipping from 1981 reporting the sentencing of Mark Chapman. I had forgotten that Chapman was "insane" and carrying around that particular book.

I opened another book and was thumbing through the pages when the above business card fell out. I thought it ironic that the writers name was misspelled on his card and poignant how he fixed the problem. He probably has a terrific sense of humor.

In the basement secion once again the books are from ceiling to floor but less overwhelming than the upstairs. That's where I found the travelogue books. This is the section where I ended up spending my money! I purchased a paperback of "The Islands of Ireland" by Thom. H. Mason. First published 1936...this edition, 1967. This is going to be a great read for me. I am especially interested in reading all about Clare Island.

Another gem I located is a 1929 book titled "A Green Horn In Europe". On the back of this book is an advertisement for another....Animal Antidotes and other Animal Stories"....$1.75. I love this stuff.

I could have spent all afternoon there picking up book after book and opening it up, feeling the pages, looking for lost treasures hidden within their bindings. I have on occasion found some very fascinating surprises!

I should go back and get that George Sand book!

With A Heavy Heart

Cleaning House

I have begun to thin down my Blogline roster. I have begun to eliminate the AOL journals that are no longer. Most of them are now on Blogger, so it was a duplicate listing more or less.

I have also been deleting the journals that are no longer used. My finger hung over SloMo's. I miss her so much. I left it, hoping that one day I will log on and find she has returned.

This is a subject that has been beat to death. We all realize that the advertisements will remain over the AOL journals and there is not a thing we can do about it. The whole infrastructure of Journal Land has been breached. It will never regain the glory it once had. I do not even check out the Guest Editor of the week any longer.

I do not recognize the journals highlighted. Sigh. I guess I could acquaint myself with some new ones. That is the point, isn't it? Being exposed to new journals? I guess I am just having a case of sour grapes. I miss everything about the "Old School" AOL Journals.

I remember finding the journals the first time. I had just read a book by the author of Pamie.Com. I had no idea there was such a thing as Blogs. I found several communities out there and was all torn up thinking I had to learn Html!! I signed on one day and there it was...that cute little house logo thing AOL Journals had (do they still have it?) and I found my home.

I journaled under another screen name for sometime before finding Alphawoman a home. It was so great in the beginning. There seemed to only be a handful of us and every single day five journals were highlighted!!!

Isn't that all of us met each other?

It seems so spoiled now.

It is with a great sadness I delete journals I loved to read because they no longer exist. I have always been one to reflect and hold on to the past. But my bloglines is out of control.

So, farewell my old friends. I hope you are happy and content where ever you are.

History Repeats Itself

Road to corruption

I am going to take some time off next week. In response to my impending absence, someone is going to cover my territory.

Cool. It's still way too early in my career in this facility to have pissed off any of my customers or for any of them to hate me or bad mouth me. So all is great.

Towards the end of last week they let me know that they wanted the "new guy" to cover my territory rather than the regular swing person. This is the new guys first week in the position. And that they wanted him to travel with me?!! ALL WEEK.

Oh hell.

I fretted about it all week end and finally as I was heading out the door Monday morning, still gloomy that I was going to have a shadow with me all week, I thought maybe, just maybe, this could be fun.

I arrive at work and there he is. "Hello!" he says greeting me at the door, "T. said he saw you park in the lot!"

Oh my God. It's a BABY!!!

We shake hands. "What's your name?" He has only been referred to as "the new guy".

"W."

Well, well, well. I have an assistant all week and it has been extremely good. My assistant makes my phone calls for me. Makes copies for me. Does my e-mailing for me. Makes up forms for me. Does my daily sheets for me. Has been my muscle all week. All under the guise of "training him".

He is like a puppy. So eager to please. He is like a sponge. I tell him, or show him once and he gets it. He has been with the company for a year and this is his first promotion. Since I worked the "other side" of our business (the dark side) I can relate to him.

I have spoiled him rotten. It's amazing what buying lunch for a 26 year old kid all week will get for you. I have shared my wisdom with him all week. This is hilarious because as I "trained him" I realize how seasoned I actually am. (jaded?) It's been fun. I am so accustomed to being alone all day, it was pleasant have him around.

I have corrupted him for "the dark side". He will never again be satisfied working for them. He wants with "us", the fun side.

I am going to miss him. Not only for the wonderfulness of having a side kick, but because he is an interesting, quirky, intelligent and a Boston Irish transplant.

He showed me a used bookstore that is fabulous in downtown that never in a million years I would have found if he had not shown me.

I really really lucked out this week.

IS IT REALLY 2006?

When I was young, I mean younger.....oh heck, when I was a teenager I thought I would not live to be 30 let alone 50.

The year 2000 loomed out there in the future, in space. It seemed mind boggling and insane that I would be older than my parents if I lived to 2000. They were old and decrepit. Antiquated. Teetering on feeble. They were 39 and 47.

I contemplated life a lot back them. After all, I was a moody teenager with plenty of time on my hands because I avoided homework like the plague. So, I day dreamed and contemplated life a lot.

Now it is well into the year 2006 and I am totally amazed that I have survived to this ripe old age. God knows I tried to sabotage it by living life dangerously and precariously at times. With careless abandon most the time. Who was it that said if they knew they were going to live this long they would have taken better care of themselves? Micky Mantle?

I contemplate life still as I pump it out on the machines at the Fitness Center Joe and I joined several months ago. I have not taken it seriously until the new year. After all, what use is it to try and deny yourself when the holidays are advancing. If I had started then, I would have messed it up immediately. So I waited. I made the occasional trip to the center to acquaint myself with the clientele and where everything is located. I am happy to report, the clientele is cool, mostly out of shape middle age chumps like myself.

I think I may be committed to loosing the excess weight and toning up. The great upside...besides all that stuff about health and vitality......is the fabulous wardrobe I have that I no longer fit in. It's waiting for me!

The other night I looked at myself in one of the many mirrors in the downstairs aerobic room. "Those arms are not mine!!!!!!" I was mortified. I am also mortified at the size of my boobs! They have a zip code of their own. They pop out of my bra's when I lean over. It is so embarrassing. I play with my bra and my underwires as much as any major league pitcher plays with his cup. It is becoming a habit. A very unbecoming habit! They pop out a lot.

So, I am concentrating on using the machines that work my upper body with the hopes that my arms stop flapping in the breeze and my boobs come under control.

Yesterday morning I awoke and immediately knew something was wrong. My right arm would not move. It was frozen into a broken bird wing sort of position. It hurt all day long. Joe made fun of me last night because try as I may, I could not stretch my arm out straight without writhering in pain. ( a little over the top acting is fun sometimes).

Getting back into shape is hard. I should have listened to Micky.

(What am I saying? Micky Mantle?!! What is up with all this baseball imagery?)