GIVE ME A "C"

In the past, my impulsivity has gotten me into trouble. I'd like to think I've changed somewhat or at least, mellowed with age, but last Sunday while on my way to go grocery shopping, my poor impulse control reared its ugly head. There in front of the Walmart parking lot were two ladies in a pickup truck selling Shih Tzu puppies.

I'm by nature a cat person. Five furry felines call my house home. Yes, I have the potential to become that crazy old cat woman, but last Sunday on a whim, I bought a 3 month old puppy. I immediately named her Fenway. What else does a Red Sox fan name her dog? Believe it or not, she's starting to act like a cat. Resistance is futile the cats keep telling her and because she's outnumbered, I expect anyday now she'll learn how to purr!

Gratitude statement: I'm grateful for the strong sense of love and compassion I developed towards all animals as a child.

GIVE ME A "U"

In the process of doing some much needed remodeling and repair work in my house, I discovered that Murphy's Laws are alive and well and have taken up residence in each of my projects.

1. Nothing is as easy as it looks.
2. Everything takes longer than you think.
3. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

It all started in the downstairs bathroom which originally was only going to be a simple job of replacing a couple of tiles that had cracked when my father had fallen on them. The box of extra tiles that had been stored in the garage were old, discolored and warped, but to save money I said, "do the best you can with what we have on hand." Silly woman! The job turned into a brand new tile floor, a paint job to match the tile and some plumbing which required removing the cabinets to get to the wall behind the shower. My downstairs shower had no more than a trickle of water pressure. After the toilet seat is replaced and a few other small details, the bathroom will be a thing of beauty!

Next, I came up with the brilliant idea of turning the den into the dining room. The den was virtually wasted space that no one used and I envisioned holidays meals with the entire family sitting around the dining room table in that room. What this visionary didn't count on was what seemed like a fairly simple job to level the floor where I thought the foundation had settled turning into the job from hell. The whole concrete slab is having to be busted up and the fill dirt underneath that has washed away (thanks to the lovely Florida torrential downpours) over 70 years since the house was first built has to be replaced (Of course, houses aren't built like that nowadays...thanks goodness!). Then a new concrete floor needs to be poured. Finally a self leveling mixture is used on top of everything with the finishing touch being either a hardwood floor or ceramic floor tiles to complete the job before moving onto the next room. What I've learned is that anything is possible with enough time and money! And what's a little rebar and concrete rubble in the grand scheme of things?

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for the patience I seem to always have and that my house isn't located over one of Florida's many sinkholes.

GIVE ME AN "F"

Over the past month or so I've tried very hard to focus my mind on other things other than my pain in my right arm. I've played poker, posted new entries on my blog, removed wallpaper and painted the bathroom and participated in life as normally as I possibly can. I've been to the doctor twice. The first time I was told I had tendonitis obviously, from all the tennis I play and was given Motrin to take for 10 days. Okay, when that didn't do the trick, I reluctantly went back. This time I was given an order for a x-ray of my left thumb (I have a small lump at the base of my thumb)and an order for physical therapy. The pain had increased and radiates through my entire arm and goes into my shoulder blade causing muscle spasms. I really need to give up playing tennis! I was also given a prescription for steroids to take.

Anyone with diabetes knows that steroids and diabetes does not mix well. After getting the Rx filled, I've decided not to take the steroids. In the past, the benefits gained from taking steroids haven't been enough to merit struggling with the elevated blood sugar it causes. I did, however have the x-ray done and attempted to have physical therapy set up only to find out that my insurance doesn't cover physical therapy. Why doesn't this surprise me?

I'm not too upset over the physical therapy issue because each time I exert my arm, it only ends up hurting worse. I have found that if I move my head slightly to left and rest my arm on top of my head, the pain goes away. Perhaps I can duck tape my head and arm in that position and then all I'll have is just the normal pain I suffer from daily. Experimenting with repositioning my head and arm leads me to believe that the true problem comes from my neck and/or back. And since I refuse to have anymore surgery to that area of my body, the name of the game is grin and bear it! That game I'm much better at than playing tennis!

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for being able to grin and bear it rather than letting out the primal scream I feel slowly brewing.

REMEMBERING MICHAEL - PART I

Each year at this time my thoughts seem to drift towards remembering Michael. Those thoughts were particularly strong this past weekend when I spent the weekend with Michael's oldest sister, Sandra. All around me were reminders of Michael. Even at night, I couldn't escape him because there next to me on the nightstand was a picture of him. I met Michael when I was 18. He was tall and tanned with long dark hair and mesmerizing green eyes. He told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. A lie no doubt, but one coming from him that I always thought he might have meant since he never had an agenda with me. Ours was a relationship that never transcended platonic boundaries except for an occasional stolen kiss here and there. His whole family became close to me for various reasons and on many occasions I was caught up in the weird dynamics that governed their relationships with each other. 

When Michael joined the Marines, we wrote to each other and saw each other whenever he would come home on leave. We always seemed to drift in and out of each other's lives. Whenever I thought of him, I always did so with a smile. He was the sunshine that warmed so many people's lives. In our wild youth, his sister and I used to accompany him sometimes to the gay bars in Pensacola. What stories I could tell about those times, but what I remember most is the love I always carried with me for him. We danced those nights away pretending that I was a drag queen, so I wouldn't ruin his reputation! What a goofy pair of friends we were! As we got older and moved away from each other, like many friends we didn't keep in touch like we should. He remained in my thoughts as I'm sure I did with him. As Michael's health failed and the end was imminent, I finally called Michael to ask him to forgive me for not being a better friend. In his weak, barely audible voice he said he forgave me. Michael died on Mother's Day 2005 and while I watched them bury my friend, I knew another piece of me was gone forever.  

Gratitude statement: Although death is an inevitable, I'm truly thankful for the time all my friends have been a part of my life. 

REMEMBERING MICHAEL - PART II

Christina, my daughter, accompanied me to Michael's funeral. She knew what an emotional wreck I was and she wanted to be there to support me. Many of Michael's family hadn't seen her since she was a little girl and all remarked what a beautiful woman she had grown into being. It was so good seeing all of them...like a long overdue family reunion, but the dark feeling of why we were all there hung heavy in our hearts.

As I hugged each one of them, I held myself together. Each one felt good to hold and my thoughts overflowed with so many memories of better days and laughter filled moments. My history with each of them seemed so interwoven with who I am now as a person.  I felt I was truly among not only friends, but family as well. We all managed to laugh as we reminisced about the good old days before the graveside service.  Johnny teased me like he used to do and I remembered back to when he and I first got involved many, many years ago. Oh, what a handful he could be and oh, how I once loved him!  Everyone seemed instantly amused as Johnny and I fell back into the witty banter that was part of our relationship long ago.

I was okay until I saw the coffin being removed from the hearse. At that moment the reality hit me...Michael was gone! Oh my God, he was really gone and all I had left were these memories clouding my mind. Christy grabbed ahold of me as she saw my legs start to buckle. The family had the coffin reopened so I could say goodbye to Michael. That scene and Michael's lifeless body will be forever etched into my brain. Theresa hugged me and told me Michael had always loved me. All I could do is say "I know" as the tears burned my face.

As Randy, Michael's younger brother stepped into the preacher role he knew so well, he began to officiate Michael's memorial service. The Blue Angels were practicing for an upcoming airshow so they kept making flyovers which made the full military funeral more spectacular. With each word Randy spoke, his love for Michael showered over all of us. Finally, he read a poem Michael had written years ago for his mother and as the guns were fired and the last notes of Taps were being played, my mind flashed back to a time when Michael brushed my long hair. Just for a moment I could feel him with me as I whispered goodbye.

Gratitude statement: I'm actually thankful for still being able to shed tears for the people who I have loved and who are no longer with me.

IGNORANCE & THE INTERNET

Okay, I've gotten lazy! I'll admit it! I thought I'd change my mp3 player to one that has a playlist on it and that randomizes the songs as people click on my blog. What I found out as I started creating the playlist is that there are no Pink Floyd songs in their database. And when I tried to locate Working Class Hero by John Lennon, I got an ooops, who's John Lennon? I did, however find Imagine by John Lenon...IMAGINE THAT! Come on people, typos are cool, but not on something like that. Typos like that make a person look completely ignorant and insult the artist.

I guess the moral of this little rant is that the grass is not always greener on the other side of cyberspace. In fact, I'm beginning to think that's where all the dillholes reside with their dial-up connections. So flog me for wanting to add a few Pink Floyd songs to my playlist! I like Pink Floyd and have been a fan ever since I heard "Careful With That Axe, Eugene" many, many moons ago somewhere in Providence, Rhode Island on a ferry boat that had been converted into a hang-out for hippies...another story for another time! I sure wish I knew the name of that ferry boat or could find someone who lived in Rhode Island and knows what the hell I'm remembering. For all I know, the whole memory is just a figment of my imagination. NAH! The memory of those giant speakers blasting music straight into my soul is far too real to be a hallucination and the blood curdling scream...it was real! Wasn't it? 

Gratitude statement: I'm grateful I can remember anything that happened 40 years ago in great detail.