I am very uncool. Very.

*sigh*

I think I used to be cool.

I was a punk rocker, man. I listened to punk. I rocked. I had a bad attitude and ripped jeans and crazy hair. Whoo! ( insert sarcasm here)

I used to skate. And skate a lot. I broke into old warehouses to shred the remains, I took pictures of my battle scars, and kept them in a scrap book. I was a night owl, i went to really, really bad local shows and came out bruised and hurt, and feeling invincible. I listened to loud, loud music in the morning, and psyched myself up for the day, I attended every.single.show. that came to the Detroit metro area. With my chucks on, I could do it all.

Three kids, a mortgage, and 2 tons of responsibility later, I just heard myself say the words ” i can’t eat ice cream past 8 o’clock, it gives me heart burn”

wow.

very uncool.

i might as well put on my mom jeans now, and white keds. It’s over. So over.

its worth the walking pneumonia

So, I’m sitting in front of my laptop at work, listening to the conversation between Randall and Sue Ann progress into a debate about overweight girls who wear leggings. Randall says – More power to you ladies! while Sue Ann says- seriously, don’t wear leggings, you look kinda gross in them. I think a customer in leggings fueled the fire. Glad I pay them to work here.

I’m growing more and more unhappy here. And no, not because my employees are superficial, but because I have a NEED to be in Seattle. I am opening up a new shop in Washington, and possibly the California area down the road. So that gives me a reason to be there. A very good reason, and if I’m right about it, its not only going to be good for my mental health, but also good for my bank account. And seeing as I will have 5 children to look after( my own 3, and my younger brother and sister), the bank account part is a plus!

Maybe hind sight is 20/20, but when I look back at my time spent there, it didn’t matter that it rains ALOT there, it always kinda smells like worms, and I had a walking pneumonia for my first two months there- the city is just that great.

So I’ve been on the phone all day with the contractor who’s working on the house in Seattle, and it looks like its going to take about 2 more weeks to finish everything that needs to be done, including the kitchen, a new tub in the master bath, landscaping, and putting a playset out in the backyard. How domestic

So that means in two weeks, goodbye Lansing- goodbye!

The Red Lobster. Best 1st date restaurant- ever

Its kind of a running joke between a friend of mine and I, that the red lobster is at best…ridiculous. But apparently they have the bomb cheddar biscuits, but that was just an opinion of said friend, I had no way to test his theory, because I refuse to eat at the Red Lobster. ( by the way …why do they emphasise the fact that lobsters are red? Its like naming a restaurant The Brown Hamburger or the Pink Salmon..its dumb, right?)

Well, last night was a first for me. I now know the deliciousness of the cheddar biscuit.

I went to bed relatively early last night. Somewhere around 8:30. I was beat. My phone rand at 9:15, and it was my good doctor buddy, Gabe. He was off work and wanted to go to dinner. Arrghhh. In my delirium, I said the only way I was getting out of my bed, was if we were going to the red lobster! ( i assumed he would sense my sarcasm, and let me go back to sleep)

Half an hour later, I’m standing in a fishing-boat themed nightmare. There are lobsters all around me and sailor decor. Let me say that once again… SAILOR DECOR.

Anyway, we were seated, and he was giggling at me the whole time, because not only was the red lobster not what he had in mind for a nice dinner, but he also knows that I was seated in my own personal hell.

We ordered. I got shrimp scampi, he had lobster, and we ate a lot of biscuits and drank some diet cola as well, and just when we were about get the check and leave, we over heard a girl say- and I kid you not ” this was the best 1st date ever!”

So, its one thing to go to the red lobster in a disguise, under the shield of night just to make a pig of yourself over a buttery lobster…but it is an entirely different thing to actually take a date there, for serious conversation and romantic mood- setting. What happened to standards ladies?

Oh well, I left with a super full stomach and the desire to watch nascar afterwards

Goodbye, issues

Argh. Just when you think it’s safe to stop living in a permanent state of mourning…. you get hit with a boulder.

I think that I meet people in my life based on whats about to happen. After coming up for air and realizing that my friends and family disappeared, I started over. I was alone for a while, sure, but the people in my life were the ones who were supposed to be there, the ones who deserved to be there. Most of them are recovering alcoholics and old skaters, but thats ok, because those are my people. They are my network, the people who get me through whatever life throws my way.

My good friend Sam passed away this weekend. I was visiting him at home, and he went into cardiac arrest. I tried to keep him alive, to keep his heart pumping until the ambulance got to the ER, and his doctors pumped him full of drugs and pumped his heart, and cracked his chest and massaged the heart itself, for over 3 hours, until they were forced to pronounce him.

But this blog isn’t about Sam, becuse the words that I have for Sam can’t be typed on a computer, and broadcast online. They mean too much to me, he meant too much to me.

This blog is about friendship and love.

Going back to meeting certain people based on what is about to happen, I am incredibly grateful to the group of people I call family now. They understand me, and don’t judge me harshly on the things I’ve done to be put in the situation I am in now.

I finished my last 20 mandatory hours of AA this morning. The wheels are in motion, paperwork is being filed, in about 10 days my kids will be mine again.

I’m not going to stop going to meetings though, becasue those people are my family, and you don’t give up on family.

For the past few days, I’ve been walking around with my mouth wide open, driving 20 miles down the highway, wandering through meijer for hours on end, people passed me but I never looked up, people talked tome but I never talked back.

I think I met Mr. M.D. because he was the one who was going to try harder then any other person in the ER to save Sam, he wasn’t going to give up. His chief was the one who ordered him to stop..he literally did everything he could for my friend, to save his life.

But beyond that, I think I met him because he gave me answers. He sat on my couch with me for a block of 16 hours and explained over and over again what happened to Sam, and what they did to try to save him, and it helped. He also walked with me for hours through meijer, and watched as I put random things in my cart, and ended up spending $600 on things I probably don’t really need, and he helped me put them all away at home, and tried to think of a good use for my various purchases…like 200 plastic hangers, and 4 shoe horns, packages and packages of socks, a pencil sharpener, and a VCR, among other things.

I’m grateful for the man who tried to save him, and then tried to save me too.

 I didn’t feel alone this time. I overlooked feeling like I was breaking up a relationship because I was trying to talk to a friend of mine on the phone and his gf was irritated by that, or like I was bumming anyone out with my endless tears, instead I felt like he had endless patience for me and endless answers and most importantly, endless time.

So with that being said…I’m weeding out the rest of the people who don’t deserve to be here with me. I think I’m done accepting less, because for the first time in a long time, I’m ready to be a better person, a better friend, and hopefully one day, a much better girlfriend.

Abandonment issues and commitment issues have been running my life for years….and now I’m not going to let them.

yay for me.

sorry that this was so scatter brained….I’m just piecing things together here as I go.

Boyfriends and Valentines Day

So, tomorrow is the big day. The day where women all around America prepare to be pampered and bombarded with flowers and candy and gifts. Its also the day where the men of this world scramble to find the right gift, the PERFECT gift to give to their sweetie. It’s also the day where single people in this world….want to die. That of course does not apply to me. I am happily single, and happilynot celebrating valentines day. I haven’t had the best of luck on the Feb. 14th’s of my day.

My very first boyfriends name was Zeke. We dated throughout elementary school. It was pretty serious, we were discussing sharing lunches, crayons, you name it. In the 4th grade, Zeke gave me a dead frog for valentines day. It wasn’t dead when he caught it, but it was by the time it got to me.

In highschool, I dated a 22 year old x-games champion whos name will be withheld. He was never really around, was always off with buddies, or riding his little bike up and down the street. He gave me another girls panties for valentines day. Well, more like he left them behind in my room while I was at school.

During my freshman year of college, I dated a guy named Drew who was an fine arts major. This was, to date the best Valentines Day I’ve ever had. He took me to dinner ( at taco bell) then to a concert ( sublime tribute show) and then to dessert afterwards ( denny’s) and ya know what…i had a lot of fun. we broke up 4 months later for reasons I’m still not sure of.

Then…I met Corey. We had one alright Valentines day together. We went to Chicago, Had a really nice dinner, went to a live art show, got drinks, stayed in the Hilton….ya know, pretty standard V-day stuff. Our next valentines day together was a little different. We fought, and fought and fought, and I ended up throwing chocolate candies down the toilet….resulting in us calling a plumber.

Then we have the Ben era. Ben was a true romantic, in his own way. On valentines day, I came home to a house with no children which freaked me out, rose petals up the stairs, and Ben, in all his glory, on my bed. I laughed, and ruined the mood.

The Dave phase was pointless. We did nothing on valentines day. I went to a dance at Lily’s school, he sat on his ass and most likely looked at secretary porn.

So, this valentines day I’m going to combine my 3 favorite things- pudding, taco bell and greys anatomy.

Happy Valentines Day to you all

i said, i’m gonna kick his ass

 

This was sent to  me by a fellow mommy, who too has a very umm….imaginitive little girl.

kids are fun. you should have one.

Bacon of the Month Club

Its real. And its delicious.

For Christmas, my good buddy Sam, who knows how much I enjoy any form of pork, bought me a one year membership to this exclusive club.

Let me tell you what that membership entails- on the first of every month, a package arrives at my door containing dry ice, and a pound of savory ( or sweet, it depends on the month) artisan bacon. A whole pound of it.

Along with my first shipment of bacon, which i received in January, I also got a headband with little piggy ears on it, gloves with little piggy toes in them and banner that reads ” i heart bacon” and a key chain with a little piggy on it

My first pound of bacon was a fairly common- applewood smoked brown sugar. Still good though.

My second month was more exotic I would say – cranberry infused cedar smoked.

So needless to say, I’m anxiously awaiting March 1st to see what little package of joy arrives at my doorstep.

Now, there had been negativity concerning my membership to BOTM. The fist person I told about my unusual holiday gift was my good buddy *anonymous* who happens to despise pork products all around. He told me I was a fat ass and we moved on. The second person who i told was my bitchy, queen of a brother who told me he wasn’t going to pay for my quadruple bi-pass surgery in 40 years, nor would he continue to feed me if I became too large to physically leave my home. The third person I told was Mr M.D., my newest and most healthy friend, who told me that Sam’s money would have been better spent on a membership to fruit of the month club.

I’m not sure if that was his way of telling me that I’m a little soft in the middle?

Anyway, the moral of the story is that as soon as I find a fellow member of BOTM I’m marrying them asap.

The Chinese Buffet

Like I said in a previous post…I had a date with a doctor last Friday.

He’s an internist…internal medicine M.D., organ guy….whatever you wanna call it.

When we talked on the phone a few hours before dinner, he said we were going somewhere casual, bla bla bla, so i took that as….heels and dress NOT required.

 I put on jeans, boots and a sweater and called it good. He showed up to my condo in a suit and tie. hmmm. That’s not casual, as far as I’m concerned.

But luckily he laughed about it and said he would be more then happy to wait while I changed.

Wait..huh?

So I went back into my room and rummaged through my closet only to find that the lifestyle I lead, is the one I dress for, and there wasn’t one article of clothing that came anywhere near looking normal enough to go where he wanted to.

So instead I came out in my same clothing, ….and took him to the chinese buffet around the corner from my house.

He joked about how he could feel his arteries clogging with every friend egg role he ate, and I just ate, and ate and ate.

Then we requested some Mongolian beef to go, a few more egg rolls and chocolate pudding ( yea, I know that’s not very Chinese but hey….its a buffet, there has to be pudding) and we went to the movies and continued to eat our smelly Chinese dinner, and movie theater popcorn with fake liquid butter all over it of course…because I’m a fat ass.

i think we had slurpees too. its all a blur of fattening food, at this point.

Anyway, Mr. M.D. turned out to be an alright date. Aside from his million dollar car, and $3,000 suit, I felt like he was just an average person…. wearing better shoes then most people.

Anyway, I told him about my dating freeze, and he made the cheesy remark “well you aren’t on a friend- freeze are you?”

oh boy…the cheese was layed on thick.

So me and my new friend are going to be friendly, and watch some greys anatomy this week….because I literally, have nothing better to do with my time.

…I have a thing for ‘fairy’ boats

In school- I was the weird kid. The kid who wore tie dye, the kid who talked to her dog at the bus stop, the kid who’s mom never combed her hair or wore anything resembling normal clothing. I was the kid who went to school smelling like pot, because my parents never stopped living in the 70′s.

I grew up in a house where time literally, stood still. We never moved into the new generation, we never bought things that we didn’t really need. Things like a toaster, or a tape player, or khaki pants. Why buy those things when you can make toast under the broiler, or play albums on the record player, and wear your faded blue jeans. ( khaki pants were the devils work, according to my family)

In high school,  I actually decided to take a stand against the insanity that was happening in my house. I got a job. I bought my own things. I discovered punk rock instead of journey, and fleet wood mac. I wore my chucks and my insanely tight black jeans and studded belts and my angry face everyday. My parents thought I was rebelling against kids my age, but really, I was trying to get the hell away from the way they lived.

I moved out when I was 16, after being temporarily homeless for a few months the year before that, and never went back.

I outgrew the tight jeans and the studded accessories and even the angry face ( i still rock chuck taylors though)

And now that I look back at the way I grew up, I’m almost disappointed in myself for straying so far away from the very simple, easy and calm upbringing that I had. We had no televisions in our home, we didn’t eat processed foods, we played OUTSIDE all day, we had bon-fires and slept in the hammock in the yard if we wanted to. We were hugged and kissed and praised and payed attention to.We were happy kids.

Out of the 5 brothers and sisters I have, none of us kept up with that lifestyle. We all ran, and ran fast away from it. I now have one brother who attempted to take my kids from me, a sister who is in prison, a younger brother who is making a name for himself in this world one way or another, and who I love very much, a very, very bitter younger sister, and a baby brother who was left with no one in this world.

And in a few weeks, not only will I be eligible to have my own three children back, but my 13 year old sister, and 3 year old brother as well.

I think that children need a home with a yard, in a neighborhood, with a playground nearby, but also, live in a place that provides culture and different sights and people and lifestyles.

I don’t think Michigan is the place for that to happen. Michigan has too much history for them, too many bad memories.

As I write this, my general manager at the shop is training to take over my position, and I just arrived back from my very short trip to see my house in washington. It needs some work, a good cleaning and maybe some landscaping work, but other then that, its just how I remembered it being.

There is just so much more there- Ferry boats (or fairy boats as Lily describes them…because according to her, magic moves them across the water) that take you into the city, and a farmers market that you wouldn’t believe and things to do and things to see and its not an opportunity that I’m going to let my family pass up.

woot!

Sam I am

My friend Sam recently celebrated his21st birthday. It was a small party. I brought a cake. Other people brought snacks, a few presents, sparkling juice and some dvd’s to watch. We didn’t go bar hopping, or drink ourselves into a coma and have war stories to tell for years to come of the night that we did something so stupid or irresponsible and actually lived to tell about it.  Sam is an alcoholic. I met him in AA and we’ve been friends since. So we find other ways to celebrate. Ways that don’t include booze or drugs. And because Sam and I have been in a sober state of mind for these past few months, we’ve grown pretty close. We’re the dorks sitting at the bar drinking bottled water. We’re the lame ass’s at the bowling alley eating nachos and drinking diet soda. We’re the people at the party talking about what step we’re on, while sipping on sparkling grape juice.

For the past 2 weeks, Sam has been lying in a hospital bed with a liver that refuses to function properly. He’s been on the donor list for 16 months so far, but nothing has come through yet.

Two nights ago, while I was sitting next to his hospital bed, talking at him, because he’s often too sick, or too weak to carry on much of a conversation, the monitors that he is hooked up to started blaring and beeping out of control and he was seizing and it was chaos. I panicked and  was completely usaware of what my body was doing, or the things that were coming out of my mouth, and everything around me was happening in slow motion.

Nurses rushed into the room, grabbed his chart, scanned the monitor and paged every last one of sams doctors. His doctors pushed their way through the crowd of nurses and interns and pumped him full of epi to start his heart again, rolled him on his side to protect him from his own seizure and started chest compressions, but the beeping and chaos didn’t stop. He was still down and it seemed like everyone was moving so slow, and I was being screamed at to leave the room, and when I wouldn’t leave, Sams internal organ specialist was yelling at the orderly to get my the hell out of the room. And he did. He picked me up and took me out of the room, but I ran back in and braced myself at the head of sams bed, and watched them shock his heart 4 times, push more epi into his system and continue crp, but nothing was working and everything was still moving so slow in my head.

And then, it was like I snapped out of the shock that I think I was in, and started hearing a really annoying girl screaming for them to JUST DO SOMETHING!

Come to find out, that annoying girl was me, and his doctors were yelling right back to get me out of his room and let them do their jobs, but I stayed, and yelled, and panicked and cried and when nothing else seemed to work, Sams internist  literally karate chopped him in the chest as hard as he could, shocked him one more time, and the beeping became controlled, and his heart was pumping and he was breathing on his own again.

And then everyone left.

They took a collective sigh of relief, made sure he was stable, and just left.

And when they left, and I was there, alone with Sam who was now beeping regularly and not shaking out of control, I squeezed his hand and told him good night and that I would be back in the morning to sit with him, talked to the murse on call when I walked out of his room, and made sure he was going to remain stable through the night, and then I went on a mission to find Sam’s internal medicine doctor.

And when I did find him, I had to run and stand in front of him to get him to listen to me, because apparently he’s just too busy for people like me. I stood in front of him and asked him WHAT THE HELL took him so long to get to Sam’s room and HOW DARE HE have me carried out of the room and IF THAT EVER HAPPENS AGAIN, I’m making it MY MISSION IN LIFE to make his life A LIVING HELL!

Then I Asked him if he understood me, and when he didn’t answer I told him that I sure as hell hope he understood me ( awesome come back right?) and started walking away.

And he let me walk away for about 10 seconds and then he yelled down the hallway at me that IF I EVER wanted to go out and GET A BITE TO EAT with him and DISCUSS Sam’s case to LET HIM KNOW!

Then he smiled and winked and walked away.

hmmmmm.

I know that I’m on a dating freeze…..but I took him up on his offer, because I’m an idiot, and because my mother would have rolled over in her grave, had I turned down the opportunity to go out with a doctor.

And in my own, kinda twisted little way, I feel like some Doctors might become a little detached from their patients. They might look at them as a case, instead of a human and that making a personal connection with the man who’s responsible for one of my very best friends life, if I shared stories with him about Sam, if I told him personal things, human things about Sam, that it would insure that fact that Sam would be more then just a case to his doctor.

Maybe that makes me a little evil. But hey- its just dinner, right?