Melancholy Moments

I remember when I was young, I couldn't wait to grow up. The time couldn't come fast enough. I think I thought that once I grew up, I'd have all the answers...and that I'd have no one I had to listen to or answer to.

And now that I'm grown? I miss that innocence. I miss when life was so simple. The reality is, the older you get, the more complicated life gets. As you get older you realize that you're a mere mortal...you can be hurt. You can die. Life doesn't last forever, and neither do friendships. Time changes things, as do circumstances and distance.

Looking back, I think of all the people who've made an impact on my life...my grandmothers, my best friend Melanie, and several others....who are no longer a part of my life. I miss them, dammit! And I'm feeling it more deeply today. I just hope to God, regardless of the circumstances that have taken us away from each other...that they know that they mattered to me...and that I love them. They've indellibly impacted my life and my heart. That will never change.

The upside to life today is that we all have the opportunities to reconnect with people, too. Places like Classmates and Myspace have made it a very distinct possibility. For me, myspace has been a blessing...giving me back the gift of several friendships I'd thought I'd lost to time and distance...that have been rekindled. I guess every dark cloud has a silver lining.

What Mattered To Her

Time sure changes...and quickly. Sitting on the ground in this picture is me. Age six. I know this because this was the year we moved from Germany to the Philippines. It was also the year we spent a few weeks in Michigan before we left for the Philippines. The year I met my cousins. The year my grandparents, the two in the back, met my brother Jonathan...seated on my mother's lap. The last time they'd seen Christina (on Dad's lap), she was a baby. My mom is pregnant in that picture...with my brother Paul.

It's one of the last pictures that ALL of us took with my grandparents. Time changed quickly after we left. Now I look at that picture and become so nostalgic. Paul died before we even left the Philippines, Jonathan passed away in '88. Grandpa died in '92. And Grandma? She died September 27 of this year. Somehow I can still look at this picture and feel the love and the warmth.

After Paul died in '82, my mother moved Jonathan, Chris, and me back to the states. And our relationship with our dad deteriorated to stranger...his choice. It's funny, I'm not even angry anymore...it isn't worth it. But I think things would be very different if it hadn't been for Grandma. She's the one who made sure that we got to know that side of the family...even without my father being around. She made sure to have somewhere for us to go during the summer for a few weeks to spend time with her, my aunts and uncles, and my cousins. She made sure we knew we were loved and a part of the family. Because to her....that's what mattered. Love and family. Her life and her needs were simple. And I love her for it.

I was keeping my cool...for the most part. Until the morning of the funeral. Because I didn't get a chance to say goodbye I went early. I thought I'd be fine. Till I saw her, touched her hand, and said goodbye. At that moment I cried like a baby. So many things rushed into my head...things I'd wished I'd said, wished I'd done. And then it was like I could hear her voice telling me to stop. That she loved me...and she knew how much I loved her. Despite all the challenges in my life, she made sure I knew I was loved and accepted...as a child...and she'd not have me questioning that as an adult. And in walked my cousin, so like her mom, so like our grandma with her big heart...to give me a hug. And I let her go.

She had a grandmother's charm bracelet. They were popular back in the day. For every grandchild born, she'd buy a head (boy or girl depending on gender) and she'd have the child's name and birthday engraved on it. And on September 30, 2006, the day after we laid her to rest...I got my head back. She had that head for 33 years. And now it's mine. Getting that made everything seem so final somehow.

She will always be there with me in my memories. I'm just glad she's not in pain anymore and that I'd gotten a chance to know her.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

I'm not a big fan of reality shows. Really, I'm not. I do enjoy talent shows, though. Since I was a little girl I've loved shows like StarSearch... As an adult I fell in love with Nashville Star...and although it's nearly sacreligeous to say, I'm NOT an Idol fan. Mind you, after a few years of seasoning I've come to like Kelly Clarkson's music...and Clay Aiken isn't bad. I also enjoy the music of Carrie Underwood, Kimberly Locke, and Josh Gracin. I think maybe it's the judges and the format of Idol that turned me off.

Anyway...there was one show that intrigued me from the beginning. Maybe because for as long as I remember I've thought Ballroom Dance was beautiful...and Latin was not only gogeous, but stunning and dramatic and sensually, unapologetically sexy. So, of course, when Dancing With The Stars first aired I KNEW I was going to tune in. It called to me.

And then I watched Kelly Monaco grow, improve and win...only to have that wussy, pansyass John O'Hurley whine and cry foul and beg for a re-match. What a joke. I'm guessing he was never taught about what consists of unsportsmanlike conduct...or class. And adding insult to injury, Kelly wound up losing the re-match. That was season one. Which had me saying I wouldn't watch again next year.

Then they announced the players...and Stacy Keibler, Lisa Rinna, and Jerry Rice...and I say to myself...this should be GOOD! And I tune in. I fall in love all over again. And I cheer Stacy on...only to find her lose in the last round because she showed herself to be so good from the beginning that the judges expected "more" of her in the final dance. Bull crap. Especially with how long losers like Master P got to stay in because of his fan base...even with his blatant lack of respect and effort. Or the fact that Jerry Rice, although okay, didn't deserve to be in the final three...and I watched more talented dancers get knocked out simply because of his star power. And I found myself once again saying that I wouldn't be watching next year.

Until they announced that Emmitt Smith was going to be competing this year. I'm a HUGE Emmitt Smith fan. And an even BIGGER Cowboys fan. So I thought I'd check it out...and pray that he didn't look nearly as stiff as Jerry. Imagine my surprise and enjoyment to find that Emmitt had some style...AND rhythm...and that he knew how to play the crowd. And he had some good competition in Joey Lawrence and Mario Lopez... Against all protests...I'm once again drawn in.

I should have known better and followed my own advice..."Never say never..."

In Threes...

They say they come in threes... People dying. The thought has had me holding my breath. Grandma Plass passed on a few weeks ago, Grandpa has been ill, and he's not a spring chicken anymore...so..I've been concerned...and waiting for the other shoe to drop. I didn't want to think it, but I've been through a lot of loss in my life, so I realize it's just another part of the cycle. I'm able to be realistic about it, but it doesn't change that wish that maybe...just this once...things wouldn't have to be this hard.

And then I got the phone call. My sister called to tell me that my grandma was in the hospital. Now my grandma has a history of diabetes and heart issues. But she'd been doing pretty well. Somehow she must have fallen or something, because they took her into the ER complaining of pain on top of all her other issues. It turned out that she had a fractured Thoracic vertebra. Unfortunately it wasn't going to heal...and it would degenerate...pushing downward on her spinal column...eventually paralyzing her and leaving her in a lot of pain.

A decision had to be made. Do we put her on morphine to ease her pain? If we put her on morphine, are we ready to accept the consequences? The results would be that it would negatively impact all the meds she's taking for her heart and the rest....meaning that if we put her on the morphine, she'd be declining and eventually die...but she'd die painlessly, rather than live longer, but in more pain and paralyzed. So the family had a meeting and the decision was made. We took her off support, put her on morphine, and moved her to hospice.

The first day or two she did really well, and it looked as though she was going to be lingering for a while. But then the last few days she took a drastic decline...until this morning when my sister was visiting her and she woke up...grabbed her face, kissed her...and said "I love you, Christina." And then..."See you next time."

And this is the first time in about a week that she's been lucid. And she appears to be rallying...which strongly suggests to me that she's coming back to say goodbye and give everyone closure. In my gut, in my bones, I know that's exactly what this is. It weighs on me, making me wish I could be there...to say good bye...to let her know how much I love her. To make sure she realizes that I know that if it weren't for her I'd never have had a chance to know my dad's side of my family. That I appreciated her standing up for us, and fighting for us...even with my indifferent father. And yet I'm not able to be there. I have responsibilities here...and we don't know how long she has...and I need to be there for her funeral. So I'm torn up on the inside, aching...hoping and praying she knows just how much I absolutely adore her. She was the softest...gentlest...most loving anchor to the family. I'll be just a bit more devastated when she's gone...

I'm so grateful that she loved me... I'll always love her.

A Petty Bit Of Venom

I'm a die hard Cowboy fan. They were the first team I saw when I moved back to this country. I'm also a rabid sports fan...my favorite sport being football. I was absolutely thrilled to find out that the 'Boys were actually gonna be playing in Florida this year. On opening day in Jacksonville. Awesome. My roommate and I decided immediately that we HAD to get tickets and make the drive to see the game. The drive was over 4 hours, so we figured we'd get a hotel room.

As we made our plans, my next door neighbor chimed in that he'd like to go to the game and bring his girlfriend. Not such a big deal...he doesn't really follow sports, barely follows pro-football, and the only football he even half way knows (and I used that term lightly) it would be collegiate because he's a Gators fan.

To better understand my irritation I should probably elaborate. This is an example of how clueless he is about pro ball.

Him: What's that yellow line on the field out there?
Me: What yellow line?
Him: That one that goes across the field.
Me: (walks to the screen and points at the first down marker) You mean this?
Him: Yeah.
Me: That's the first down marker so that you know how far your team has left to go.
Him: Wow! Those guys paint it there awfully fast! How do they wash it away so quickly?

So I spent time explaining to him that it only appears on TV so that the fans at home can follow and that there isn't an actual yellow line that goes across the field.

Anyway, so we agree to go with him and his girlfriend. And the other neighbor guy gets in on the action despite being a Rams fan. We discuss getting 2 hotel rooms or 1 suite with 2 big beds and a sleeper sofa and booking the room for two nights. We decide to go with 2 nights so that we're not rushed. The initial idea was that we'd get to Jax early, hence the hotel, giving us time to relax and goof off. And we'd stay the night after the game so that we wouldn't have a long drive immediately following.

And this was planned MONTHS ago. So, of course, since it's not as important to THEM, this is what happens. Both guys wind up working. Neither bother to get the time off. The Rams fan has his own business and could've planned around it. The other guy...he says he's got a couple of jobs to do. So instead of leaving at 2 or 3 like roomie and I wanted, we wind up leaving after 6...which meant we got here after 11. Without having had supper. And I was fuming. It was inconsiderate of them. Had we known they were gonna pull this crap, we could've left on our own and met them here. Even more irritating is that the neighbor guy and his girlfriend haven't paid for their tickets or share of the hotel yet. And I know if this had been important to them, nothing would've kept them away. Worse, we HAD to wait for them because if we hadn't...they just wouldn't have bothered coming...and we would've been out the few hundred dollars, etc.

So I was already irritated about that, right? What else could piss me off? The fact that this guy decides to "be" a Jags fan today. Of all days. Not because he knows anything. Simply because he used to live in the area as a child. And then he was sitting there trying to act and talk like he knew what he was speaking about. It took quite a bit to hold myself back from making a fool of him and proving just how little he knows of football. And he was getting arrogant like he had a right because a team he suddenly claimed was winning. There we die hards were in the rain, cheering our team, and he was rubbing our noses in the fact that our team was losing to "his team"... As if!

I'll say this much...Going forward, he can decide to go to his own damned games. Because he really is clueless...and his disrespect was grating. And no, I'm not reacting that way because we lost. We deserved to lose with the shitty way we played. I'm saying this because I didn't appreciate his arrogant attitude and his flaunting a game his team was winning although he couldn't, not in a million years, explain how. I could've accentuated to the world what an ass he was, but I didn't. I behaved.

But I'm not inviting him to a football game again.

It's In The Rain

Tonight it's raining out, and it's got me restless, wreckless. It's always done this to me...the rain. The tap, tap, taping against my window pane, the light howl of the wind, the way the lightening cuts across the sky. It's always seduced me. Even before I understood just what it meant...the way I reacted.

When I was younger it was great for drifting off into my own little fantasy world...opening my mind to daydreams, to stories. I loved curling up in bed, letting my imagination soar into whatever book I was reading...or whatever story I was creating in my head. The rain was a comfort, a friend. It opened me up to endless possibilities. I was just a little bit more bold when it rained. And when I'd finally drift off...it was the most relaxing sleep.

And as I got older I noticed...the rain gave me that itchy, twitchy feeling...a different kind of restlessness. I'd ache for something I wasn't quite sure I fully understood. Until Shawn. Don't get me wrong...I wasn't naive. I've never been naive where boys were concerned. If anything, I was all too aware. I noticed that my "gentleman callers" called a bit more frequently and kept me on the phone a bit longer when it rained. Where I was a natural flirt, when it rained I was downright uninhibited. I was open to whatever you wanted to talk about. And they loved it.

And yet it was Shawn that drew me out. I still remember...he'd moved away by then. I missed him. He got me on a level that no one else came close to. Then or now. So his moving away affected me. And I looked forward to those days when he'd come back to visit. They were few, but priceless moments to me. On that day I was coming home from work...it was misting out...and I was walking through the courtyard of our apartment complex to my apartment when I saw him. Standing in the mist...near my door...in his jeans and black trenchcoat. Looking at me. It had only been months since I'd last seen him. How was it possible he'd gotten so tall? He towered over me.

God, there was nothing that got to me quite the same way that quiet, shy smile did when it lit up his face. Knowing that I'd put that gleam in his emerald eyes. Knowing that look was all for me. That was powerful. And then he opened his arms to me...that's all it took. Pulling me into that welcoming hug...hearing the comfort of his heart beat, seeing that mischevious gleam in his eyes. I missed him. I knew he'd only be mine for a few hours...but I asked anyway.

So we went for a walk around town...the way we used to when he lived there. Hand in hand, his arm around me. He asked me if I was sure...it was starting to rain. I looked up at him and knew. I was sure. I wanted nothing more than to kiss this boy in the rain. So he took my hand. We walked. The mist built slowly into drops...cool against our skin. I still remember what I was wearing. A T-shirt and jeans and sneakers. As the strength of the downpour grew, the cooler it got. He pulled me into his side...sharing his trench with me. He felt me shiver, turned and pulled me flush against his chest...warming me with him, wrapping us up in his coat. The rain continued to drip down our faces, we just smiled...he kept me warm...and then he kissed me. There in the rain, he kissed me. And if my heart hadn't already belonged to him...I'd have lost it again. Right there. In that moment. Nothing ever felt sexier to me than kissing him in that cool Chicago spring rain.

Now as an adult, so many things have changed. I've lost touch with Shawn, but never with that memory. Thoughts of him still make me smile. And now, it never fails, rain entices me and seduces me. There's not much that's sexier to me than the rain. And it doesn't matter how much time has passed...for me, Shawn and rainy days are indellibly intertwined.

Celebrate Life

This picture was taken a couple of months ago. It was Grandma and Grandpa's 60th Anniversary celebration. I was fortunate enough to be a part of it. I got to give her a hug and kiss and tell her I loved her. She looked damned good for 92...and grandpa kept going on and on about how he caught himself an older woman.. He's 90. I got to hear stories about their wedding day...the double wedding with her cousin. I got to see her cake topper. She still had it after all these years. Her love for her family unshakeable. Her pride in her kids and grandchildren evident. And I was lucky enough to be a part of her life.

Time changes so quickly. People come and go. And although I'll miss her...and a part of me is sad...there's another part that's grateful. She lived a full life, a happy one...not to mention a long one. Would that I'll be able to do it half as well as she did.

The memorial is set for the 20th. I'll be headed back home to be there for it. I don't wonder if I'll have the strength...I know I will. And I know I can celebrate her life, and be happy she's not suffering. I can get through anything. I always do. I'm tough...but sometimes I wish I was just a bit weaker. I wish I had it in me to cry like a baby and be selfish. Just this once. But I know I won't. It would dishonor her. And it's just not me. But yeah, sometimes...sometimes I wish.

And Still...

She was in her nineties. She'd had a good life...a long life. She'd seen her sixtieth wedding anniversary. Logically I know all this. Logically I appreciate all this.

But emotionally...my heart is a bit torn.

I'm a bit shell shocked...bewildered. A few weeks ago, Grandma P had a heart attack. They said it was pretty severe. They took her off her intubation...and she got BETTER! She was always the fighter. Quietly supportive. Vocally hilarious...filled with stories of family and old days. She didn't understand words like political correctness. She just said what she thought. She loved her family...even those of us who she gained through marriage. She was thrilled when her son married my mom...and accepted us with open arms. More grand kids to love. She always made us feel as though we were hers...as much as anyone related by blood. She always had a hug and a kiss and a story made to make you roar with laughter about her crazy escapades.

And now, suddenly, she's gone.

And the world just seems a bit darker for it.

Makes You Wonder

So I spent yesterday doing interviews for one of my locations...working on staffing them.

A little background on me...I'm a multiple location manager in retail electronics. Since I have four stores, I'm always doing hiring for one location or another. Because it's retail and turnover can be high, I'm extra careful about who I hire. And since it's a Fortune 100 company, there's a very definite set of questions and expectations about the type of person we're looking for.

Anyway...My first interview sauntered in. Probably in his 30's or 40's. Dressed pretty casually, especially considering he knew our dress code for men was shirt and tie. (He's been our customer for quite some time) Kid you not...the guy had morning breath. You'd think that you'd at least control little things like that when you have no experience in the area for which you're interviewing...but that's just me. And I'm not above taking chances on the person if they strike me as worth taking a chance on. Based on his background, I think he might make a better tech.

My next lady cancelled. Due to inclement weather, she said. Of course in this area of the world it rains for an hour every day about this time of year. And I'm kind of indifferet towards her anyway. See, here's the thing. I called to set up an interview with her in the first place, and she was kinda rude. It went something like this:

Her: (snarly voice) Hello.
Me: Hi, I'm calling for so and so.
Her: (flat tone) Yeah, I'm so and so. What do you want?
Me: I work for ----. I'm calling because I'd recently recieved your resume and would like to set up a time for an interview.
Her: (suddenly sugar and spice) Absolutely! I've been trying to get a job with ---- for a while now.

So if she's been trying to get in the door with us for a while she thinks it'll make sense to cancel an interview she's finally been granted? Her tone already made me nervous because I'm filling a customer service spot... but we'll see.

And then there was my next guy I interviewed. It started off positively. The guy came in early. I liked that. Then I looked more closely at his resume. He was demanding Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays off. That was when I knew he was crazy. Hello! We work RETAIL. Weekends being our busiest times of the week. So before anything even started I had to tell the guy that if he truly expected these days off, we had nothing further to discuss. He then told me that he likes going to church on Sundays...which I can appreciate as a person, but can't begin to interfere with my decision as a manager. I asked him again. "Are you completely unavailable on these days?" He then stated that no, he's not, but on Wed (he accidentally missed and clicked Thurs) he had prayer meetings in the evening, so mornings were okay...and that church was out at 12:30, so he could work by 1 on Sundays.

We continued on with the interview. Got to the problem solving portion of the interview. Asked him to describe a time when he came up against a difficult situation and/or task, how did he handle it, and what was the end result. And he said very seriously, "You may not believe this, but I pray about it, and it all gets better." Now I'm not one for mockery. And I'm a Christian, too. But I'm looking for a step-by-step. So I say..."While this may help with focus, we both know that simply praying about a situation doesn't resolve the situation. So AFTER you pray, what steps are you guided towards?"

I just did not know what to make of this day. Thank Goodness the last woman I interviewed was a dream!

The Waiting Game

I want to cry. Instead I feel worn...tired and worn.

Have you ever had one of those times in your life where it seems you can't catch a break. That for every good thing that happens two bad things follow?

That's how I've felt lately. The funny thing is I'm a really positive person. I'm intense, driven and dedicated. I am almost always in control. It's more than just something I like to be...for me it's deeper than that. Control is somehow sewn into my core...it's who I am. I control my universe...most of the time.

So when I get phone calls like the one I received from my mom today, it's tough for me...and on me. Because this is definitely one of those areas in which I have no control...and yet the results impact me and those I care about.

My grandma (okay, so she's a "step"...if that means anything) is in the hospital. I know, she's older, she's lived a full life... Yadda, yadda, yadda! I've heard it all. So she's in the hospital because she had a severe heart attack. They had to intubate her. But it was making her uncomfortable...and the doctor said the damage to the heart was pretty severe...so they decided to just work on making her comfortable. And my step-dad flew in...and of course, forgot his charger at home. And my mom was freaking out because she couldn't reach anyone and couldn't come with my step-dad.

My sister was out of town. For those who don't know, my sister is a Cardiac Intensive Nurse. It's her specialty. So I called her. She got in touch with step-dad. The thing about taking her off the intubation is that they'll also be taking her off her blood pressure meds. They're not certain how that will go over with her body.

So I called my step-dad to tell him I have a charger for him and to get an update. They've removed the intubation...and she's stopped shaking...and she seems more comfortable. Her color looks better. And they've taken her off the blood pressure meds...but so far she seems to be holding her own. So now it's a waiting game. Have I mentioned that I'm not very good at waiting games?

But on the up-side...Has anyone tried the new Black and White Milano cookies from Pepperidge Farm? I think they're gonna keep me company through this wait... Because I'm not gonna cry.

Echoes

I don't know why it still gets to me after all these years. Why it still has the power to hurt me. It shouldn't. It was a long, long time ago. But every once in a while, it creeps back.

I didn't do anything. I was an innocent...okay, maybe not innocent. I'd seen too much by the age of ten to really ever look at anything with completely innocent eyes. But I'd never done anything to anyone.

So a few weeks ago on Myspace, I saw someone I used to kinda know. Someone I'd had a little crush on. His name is Javier. So I friended him...wondering if he'd remember me. He did, and he accepted my friend offer. And so the little emails of re-aquaintance started. It was nice, finding that he'd noticed me. Remembered me. Even though we were mostly passing friends. His younger brother knew me better.

And then came those words..."I remember you. You seemed sweet. I never could understand why the girls never liked you. Must've been a high school thing." Those words, those hurtful words...always the bane of my existence since I was a little girl. I never understood what it was I'd done, or didn't do...that made girls dislike me so much. I never stole their boyfriends. I was always nice. I didn't get catty or gossipy. And yet I was never really accepted.

When I was in high school I ran into this girl Amy. I thought she and I were friends. I hadn't seen her since I transferred Jr High's back in 6th grade. She stopped and talked to me. And she told me "We all hated you back then." I didn't understand and asked why...they'd always been nice to me. Her response? "It was never anything you did. We just didn't like you. But we knew better than to be mean, you had all the boys."

I didn't get it. I guess I still don't. I was a tomboy back then. Those boys she was talking about considered me one of them. I love sports, I'm more comfortable in jeans, I don't primp in front of the mirror, I wear little to no make up. I never stole their boyfriends. If anything, more often than not, I played match maker.

And yet the cycle was clear...and has been repeated for most of my life. They're nice to my face, and grind the axe in my back when I turn. I know it now. I'm not as naive. It only hurts sometimes. If they'd only known. I was and still am...just one of the guys. And oddly enough, I maybe should be grateful. I didn't suffer from a lot of the same types of self esteem issues that most of the girls my age did. I was comfortable in my own skin. I didn't worry about being too fat or being flat or if boys noticed me. I knew I was smart. I knew I was loved by the few friends I let in. I knew I could be anything I wanted to be and do anything I wanted to do. I knew early just how much of a survivor I was.

But damn, I always wondered what it would be like to have a bunch of girl friends that I could trust to watch chick flicks and giggle with. Just once, I'd have liked to have been accepted as one of the girls...

To The Depths

I finally got around to watching the final two episodes of Grey's Anatomy last weekend. It took me until now to be able to write coherently.

Kirk thought I was crazy. As I was watching the second to the last episode, I couldn't sit still. I couldn't stay in the room. I couldn't breathe. He didn't understand. To him it was just a show. To me it was a terrifying fear, one caused me to feel as though my heart were breaking again...the memories of some of the toughest moments of my life uncovered like the sun burns out the fog.

My reaction was purely emotional, completely irrational. I couldn't watch what Izzy was doing in the name of love. I couldn't justify it. I could barely wrap my mind around it. Even as I knew what she was doing and why, my soul was screaming out. The storyline brought me back to the deaths of my brothers...so vibrant and young...much, MUCH younger than Denny. Paul died at the age of 2...placed on life support for about a week prior. We donated his organs. Jonathan died at 10. His salvageable organs also donated. Someone out there has my brother's corneas. Someone else now has his kidneys. And I couldn't be more grateful for their lives. There's a comfort in knowing that somehow, somewhere...my brother made a difference...living on in that person, bettering that person's life.

They were taken away from me harshly, suddenly, irrevocably. So to watch Izzy deliberately shorten Denny's life on a chance...a whim...to take a chance away from another person, who also had people who loved him...who had kids who depended on him...? I had such a hard time. I couldn't watch her justify shortening his life as a viable way to steal a heart from someone else. I couldn't bear to see her take chances with a life she claimed was so prescious. I could hardly see past the wrong that she was doing...that didn't help him...only her. And turned out to be the wrong gamble anyway.

And it's not that I didn't sympathise with how Izzy was feeling. I did...better than many can understand. But to be so utterly selfish as to do what she did...it's hard. Not only does it bring back images I try to shove to the back of my mind daily of my brothers laying...shells of who they used to be...connected to tubes and respirators, but it breaks my heart for people who deserve the right to a normal life. I know how I would've felt had it been my brothers who had gotten bypassed for someone else due to a person's selfishness.

And I was heartbroken for Izzy when Denny died anyway. I felt for her. It doesn't change the fact that what she did was awful and selfish....and probably an action she'll regret forever.

Would You?

If you could have one night of amazing sex with the person of your dreams...but you knew that it would also mean your death within 24 hours, would you do it? This has been a topic of conversation since we came home and found THIS MANY dead love bugs on our front porch after being gone for 4 days. Apparently, after they have sex, they die within 24 hours. So if you could have sex with anyone in the world, who would it be? And would you do it if you knew you'd die in 24 hours if you did it? The guys were pretty clear...it would be Jessica Alba for them, but oddly enough...despite the fact that she's their fantasy girl...they weren't willing to die for that night. Mine would be Tom Welling...but I'm not willing to give up my life for him. I did have a friend who would make that sacrifice for Paul Walker, though... Hmmmm... What about you?

At A Loss

I got a call last night. It was from Patrick, my ex. I haven't heard from him in months. Not since I last went down to Ft Lauderdale right before Valentine's Day. His father's been ill with cancer. I've always liked his dad immensely. There was something about the way he accepted me without reservation, the way he just seemed to like me. He had a unique genuineness and warmth about him.

Patrick called to let me know his father passed away the day before yesterday. From across the miles I could feel his loss. And though I didn't know his dad that well...it mattered so much to me. Little things kept rushing back to me. The time he was talking about moving to Georgia and asked Patrick if I'd be moving with them. Or the time they were looking at the Carolinas. For someone as gunshy about committment as me...those kind of comments had my palms sweating. But I couldn't help but feel the warmth of acceptance and approval from him. I realized a little later that it was his way of letting Patrick know that if he wanted a life with me, he wholehartedly approved and we had his support.

Me being who I am...with my life...I knew I wasn't ready for that kind of committment. Neither was he. But it was great to be so appreciated. And he always liked me.

I'm so glad now that I took the time to call him when he was ill...just to let him know I cared and that I was thinking about him. And that I'd sent a card for him with Patrick the last time I saw him.

But I never expected to be so sad over someone who I hardly knew, who I'd only met once...but who obviously wound up touching my life so strongly. What a great example he left behind for his son. His loss will be felt by everyone he's ever touched.

This Season's Version Of Respect

What happened to respect? Could it be possible that some time when I wasn't looking, it was thrown out the window along with tact and class? I am honestly beginning to wonder.

I'm normally a pretty easy going person. Honest, I am. So when I was talking to this person from myspace this week on yahoo I was pretty irritated by how the conversation dipped...not that I'm surprised...it seems it happens a lot on any instant messanger service...but it went something like this.

Him: How many people have you had sex with?
Me: A gentleman never asks, a lady never tells.
Him: C'mon...don't you like sex?
Me: What has one got to do with the other?
Him: So you're not open minded?
Me: I just don't discuss my sex life with random strangers. I don't know you well enough.
Him: Okay. I'm sorry.
Me: Thank you for respecting that.
Him: So do you like to give blow jobs?

He just didn't seem to get it! So I left. And I went back to check my myspace...saw a message from someone I didn't know. I check the message and it said: "You need to get f---ed by black cock." I assume he was applying for the job. I hit the delete button.

And that morning as I head out to work I finally get around to listening to my messages...ON MY BUSINESS LINE. There was a message there from one of my customer's husbands. He introduced himself. He said I'd helped his wife and one of her friends with the camera feature on her phone...I might remember them...the friend was Canadian. And then he asks me if I'd be interested in a 3way. I only wish I were kidding. I've never even seen this guy.

What makes people think they have the right to be disrespectful? I have no idea. I'm not sure what even made them think these comments would be appreciated. I did get the distinct feeling I was supposed to be honored and flattered by their rude little comments, though. It's baffling at what passes for flirtation these days. The worst part is that I could go on and on. This stuff happens to me on a fairly regular basis.

One customer actually asked one of my employees once how much I'd charge him to smack him around a little bit. Yes...He wanted to pay me to hit him. Literally. Shoot, I should start a business...I'd be very wealthy in a job that requires me to order men around, treat them like crap and sometimes hit them. Hmmm. I may have to consider it. Kidding. Kinda. LOL!

The Character Issue

As I sat there today watching the NFL draft I found myself shaking my head. Some people just don't get it. Every day I live my life trying live up to my core values. Core values, you ask? Yes, core values. Everything goes to the basic principals of integrity, honesty, respect...both for yourself and those around you, and ownership. Let's face it...everyone's human. This means we ALL make mistakes. It's what we do with those mistakes that determines the person we look at in the mirror. And I'm not "preaching" on "moral fiber" or anything like that...I wouldn't presume. I'm just saying that everyone has their own internal code of ethics...and with decisions come consequences.

For the last few weeks going into the draft we've been hearing a lot on sports radio about the character v. talent debate. To me, the decision is simple. Everyone deserves a second chance...absolutely. But you have to earn the trust back before someone should be expected to step out on that limb for you and place their faith in you. This was part of the reason I was so apprehensive about the Cowboys taking T.O. from the Eagles this last off-season.

But I digress....

There I was watching T.V. and the commentators were talking about draft picks that were remaining...and Marcus Vick's name comes up. Mind you this is a guy who's been struggling with legal issues from the get-go. And it's not like they're minor ones. His charges run the gamut from contributing to the delinquency of a minor (to which he plead no contest) to driving on a suspended license to the carrying of a concealed weapon. And then there's the marijuana. These aren't little things. It's understandable that he hadn't been picked yet.

So they gave him the chance to say his piece. He was given an interview to discuss his past, to ask about his future, and to explain the impact a famous older brother (Michael Vick) may have had in the impacts it's made on him. Basically, he got the chance to talk about what he learned from all these experiences. It was his opportunity to possibly win back trust and show maturity.

He. blew. it. BIGTIME!

As I listened to his words I was overcome by the feeling that this guy had a humongous sense of entitlement simply because of who his brother is in the league. And then there was the lack of ownership and responsibility. When asked about the character issues he stated that he understood the owners' concerns regarding him...and that if it hadn't been for any of his problems he would've been a first round pick. First, he's never been THAT good. Second, his problems weren't something as simple as a C in a class. They were much more serious. Again, when asked how he felt he stated that he'd had bad luck and that with all the things happening to him (because apparently the gun jumped into his hand, and he was sleep driving--yeah, you can insert sarcasm here) he felt like he must have broken a few mirrors as a child or something. He never once owned his actions or said he made a mistake. And then he minimized what he said when asked what it was like to be Mike Vick's younger brother. He said that although he loves his brother, the spotlight cast on his brother caused his actions to be amplified...because they were only little things. So he was asked if he felt he had anything in common with Maurice Clarett...to which he answered he didn't feel he had anything in common with Maurice...because HE (Maurice) had done some serious stuff. And he said it straight faced. Pot calling kettle black much?

He did not take ownership for any of his own actions. It was always bad luck or someone else's fault or not as bad as things sound. It was never about him. It was never his fault. Yeah, That's a guy I'm gonna want to invest millions of dollars. I have zero respect for people like this. Perpetual victims in life. Never owning anything. Never taking ownership of their mistakes. And whether they realize it or not? It goes a long way to saying whether or not you're worthy of a second chance. No amount of talent is going to be worth the headaches, the drama, or the loss of investment should he run into legal issues again. This one's black and white...if it's illegal, don't do it.

I hope no one gives him a draft pick. He's gonna need to earn his way back in. It's not going to be worth the long term investment and money loss. No amount of talent makes it okay for a person to break the law...or rewards it with a large NFL contract. You earn the right to come to the show. You need the character and integrity every bit as much as you the talent to play ball. He would've gone a long way if he'd have said he'd learned from his mistakes and adjusted himself otherwise. Then at least he'd show a contriteness...and growth. But until that time, may he never see the light of the NFL.

Mr Right Now?

I'm seriously infatuated. There, I've said it. Why is that so hard for me to admit? Probably because I'm always the one doling out the advice and warning people about falling too hard, too fast. And I haven't even met him face to face yet, this Texas Cowboy who's captured my attention.

But....

He makes me laugh.

Me: It's strange, I hardly know you, and yet I'm gonna miss you while you're gone.

Him: I know, Darlin'. But it won't be forever.

Me: I know that, too. Gawd, I love your accent.

Him: Thank you.

Me (laughing): I like the way you call me Darlin'. Say darlin' again.

Him: Darlin' again.

Me: Smartass.

We really do have the same kind of sense of humor...and there's no topic that's taboo. I love it. And then there's our dirty minds....

Me: I don't put out on the first date.

Him: Neither do I, so I hope to GOD you're gonna be staying for more than one day.

And usually I try to steer clear of getting emotionally involved in anything deeper than friendship with men in the military men.

So here I am, throwing my own advice out the window...

Florida Drivers

I'm shaking right now. Seriously. And I'm not a shaky person by nature. I'm as solid as they come. It's probably the reason my friends depend on me so much.

But today has been different. I've been up since 6am. One of my employees was working on this small business deal and needed me to pick up some merchandise for him from Sarasota. Not that big a deal, right? A forty-five minute drive, pick up some stuff, stop off at Starbucks and head back home to prep for my work day.

As I'm heading home, I'm stopped at a light on Clark Rd. One of my other employees calls to ask me a question...I'm at a light so I figure...pick it up. I'm talking to her for a few seconds when...BAM!!! I was rear ended. I tell her I'll have to call her back, pull my car around to the side street so as not to block traffic. The Mustang makes no attempt to move over...so I think, okay, maybe he's having car problem...or maybe he really doesn't know how to drive his vehicle...afterall, when he hit me it felt and sounded like he was new to stick shift and he popped his clutch. There was no damage to my car, so I figured when he pulled over I'd let him know everything was fine. I walk around toward his car...he sees me walking towards him...He peals out and takes off.

My first official hit-and-run! Gotta love Florida Drivers.

Feedback Welcome

Okay, I walked into the house the other day and Kirk looks at me and says...you're never gonna believe this...then proceeds to ask for my advice. Those of you who know me personally know just how brutally, bluntly honest I can be and that it's been both a blessing and a curse.

So here's the background on the situation. Kirk's brother has been married for a few years now. He's been going to pharmacy school to better himself and he's been working full time the entire time. His wife is a bit insecure which, in turn, causes her to be controlling. The last time they came to Florida was with her family. They were only about 3 hours from where we live. Gary contacted Kirk with possibly getting together. She nixed that stating that they were on vacation with HER family and wouldn't have time for Gary to meet Kirk or hang out...even for part of a day.

So Gary's getting ready to graduate from Pharmacy school...finally. The class wants to take a class trip to an area near Panama Beach. Gary included. Her response to that was hell no, he's not allowed...followed by..."If you go on this vacation, you'll be returning home to packed bags and locks being changed on the door...and I'm filing for divorce." Over a little vacation. Apparently, even though she's never been given any provocation, she doesn't trust him.

If it were you...and you were given this ultimatum...what would you do?

I can tell you what I'd do....I'd be righteously angry first. I don't take ultimatums well. Furthermore, if I've never given you a reason to mistrust me, I'd be severely affronted...because a relationship should be built on trust.

If it were me? I would go. Because for a marriage to work out...and this is just my opinion...and maybe why I'm not married... there has to be mutual trust and respect. Without that...why bother?

So the coolest thing happened...

In the midst of all my worries about corparte visits and employee illnesses and vacations and trainings and meetings, I'd decompress on myspace. It's been great because I've run into old friends from high school and stuff. It was pretty cool and distracting, so I was having fun.

But this weekend, something extraordinary happened. I was checking out a site to a neighboring highschool in the area I grew up... I had a lot of friends at this place because I went to one of their feeder elementary schools and Jr Highs. And while I was there I found...None other than one of my brother Jonathan's best friends!

I don't know if anyone can truly appreciate what this meant to me. Or to him. This kid was WITH my brother the day of his accident. His dad was an EMT and put out a distress call to fellow EMT's and Police Officers for extra help to get my brother's ambulance through traffic during rush hour traffic. His family saw our family through one of the hardest times in our lives. And we lost touch. Until I saw his picture on myspace. He looked exactly the same...except older.

And even though I can never bring my brother back...death being final and everything. Running into this guy and seeing that he's okay put a smile on my face and in my heart. For a minute it felt like I had my brother back.

Here's my myspace link for anyone interested.http://www.myspace.com/prrr4mepls