Thursday Randomness

**Warning**This post really doesn't have a point, it's just my thoughts at 3am this morning.

I think I'm a pretty good person. I try to treat others with dignity, I respect others' faiths and customs even if I don't understand them. As long as you don't run amok and hurt someone, I'm cool with it. Go head and pursue your happiness.

I worked geriatics and hospice for years...letting patients into my hearts and doing my best to ease their pains.
I regularly give to charity. If I have cash in the car I give some to the homeless man at the stop light....it's not my place to question if he really is homeless, if the money is going to feed his addictions. That is between him and his god.

I have volunteered my time to endless Scouting and school functions. I have helped the reading programs at the elementary school and been a Key Volunteer for the Marine Corps.

I pay my taxes, albeit grudgingly. (And isn't albeit a cool word? I love the sound of it. I wish I could use it more)

I am a generous mother and sister. I try to be a good wife. (Admittedly this is a tough one)

Until recently we never owned our own home. I have lost count of the number of rental properties that we have lived in from one corner of the country to the other. Military life is not for the faint of heart, that's for sure.
And every single time, we have left the place spotless. It never occurred to me to do anything else.

I am an overly generous tipper. If I receive bad service I am reluctant to complain...for I have worked tedious manual jobs in the past and know how tiring it is to deal with the public.

I think puppies and kittens are cute. I support the ethical treatment of animals.
I try my very best to live as green as possible.

What's the point of this? I don't know...I just keep thinking about the condition of the apartment. I am honestly hurt that people (supposedly family friends, no less) would leave it so messed up. Why would someone do that? It's not like we are rich, putting down the common man. We don't make anything after we pay all of the bills..we have tried really hard to take care of the place after Mother's death.

I am just so tired. Tired of playing by the rules. Tired of paying my taxes. Tired of paying my bills and never getting ahead.

Bah.

Don't get me wrong, I am grateful I have a job, a home, a family.

I am immensely grateful I live in a country where I am allowed to practice my faith. To be a free woman that is not stoned for committing adultry (not that I have or plan to, mind you). My parents didn't sell me to the highest bidder. I wasn't abused as a girl, but rather loved to the best of their ability.

I have a beautiful, funny intelligent daughter whom I adore.

A husband that loves me and has put up with my sarcasm, pessimism, moodiness etc. and has loved me for 30 years in spite of it.

I have a nice home, a wonderful sister....faithful lifelong friends.

I am relatively healthy.

I'll shut up now. Have a good day

People amaze me everyday

So how did you spend your long weekend?

At the beach? On a picnic? Maybe having lunch and shopping with a friend?

Me? Oh, I spent all three days shoveling out an apartment. And painting, and spending money I didn't have on an apartment building I never wanted.

Wow, fun times.

One of our tenants decided to move out. Not a problem, right?

Well their lease doesn't end until October 1st. They haven't paid their September rent (oh that's right, because they were planning to move, duh). The thing is they hadn't paid their August rent either.

Whatever.

I guess they planned on their security deposit counting toward that unpaid rent. It wouldn't bother me that much if they hadn't trashed the place.

And I mean trashed.

We pretty much had to shovel it out. Filthy litter box, broken toys etc., etc.
It took 4 men all of Saturday to haul it out.

It took 3 coats of paint to cover the hot pink walls in the living room.

The beautiful Kohler pedestal sink that I bought and installed in the bathroom myself is now barely fastened to the wall.

I personally refinished the built-in china cabinet in the dining room. It took me over a month to get all of the layers of paint off. I ordered special drawer pulls that were historically correct for the building. Half of said pulls are missing.

That apartment was the nicest one in the entire building. Newly finished hardwood floors, lovingly restored fireplace, custom paint job.

Trashed.

Breaks my heart.

The clincher:

Wait for it.....

They were friends of my brother.

Not strangers, friends.

Nice.

May I Vent?

I know, oh I know that there are those so much worse off than I am.

Women with cancer

Women in abusive relationships

Women that are homeless or on the verge of losing their home

Mothers with children that are ill or overseas fighting this endless war

But, May I vent anyway?

First, I have found that the older that I get the more that I crave a peaceful existence. I am reminded every day of the Frugal Gourmet who would end his show saying: "I bid you peace". Wow, how simple, but how powerful.

I don't need nor do I want a lot of material possessions any more. I want an orderly comfortable home, good health to me and mine, and peace.

Peace.

Freedom from melodrama

Freedom from conflict

Which seems to be the one thing I am not allowed to have. (Don't we always crave what we don't have?)

I don't know if I have mentioned the money pit that I inherited from my mother. It is a vintage apartment building in a very up and coming neighborhood in Chicago. I am sure at one time it was quite the showcase of the neighborhood. When you look closely you can see the shadows of her graceful youth

The ornate moldings. The huge oak mantles above the fireplaces. The built in china cabinets in the dining rooms. What was once a grand sweeping staircase in the hallway. The marble in the entryway.

But not all of the apartments have these things. Over the last almost century and a half, many things were replaced or just removed.

These days, everyone wants green and modern. Not the echo of an ornate past.

So once again we have tenants moving out. Tenants that have not paid their rent for the last couple of months. Tenants that have no reluctance to leave a fithy apartment behind.

Did I mention that I never wanted this building?

That it makes no profit?

That it breaks even only when everyone pays their rent?

So I am off to check out "the building". To paint. To sand. To pray that people pay their rent.

To pray the housing market improves so I can sell it and after paying off the sizeable mortgage and debt, distribute the small proceeds to my siblings.

And maybe, just maybe, be at peace.

TA DA!

The finished bathroom! The pics really don't do it justice. It is so calming, so peaceful that the past three weeks of living out of a suitcase, inches of dust on everything and many thousands of dollars later were worth it.

Now excuse me, I think I need to sleep in the tub

During

HOT DAMN! A WALL!

Demo

And to think I was considering staying here while they did this

Before

The before pics:




You're welcome

And Pat Benatar Played on the Radio

Today is our 29th Anniversary.

Hard to believe how quickly the time has flown.

I better watch the cliches....any minute now I'll be calling people whipper snappers.

So the SgtMaj is driving to Minnesota for his 37th class reunion. I decided to stay here and let him enjoy his reunion without worrying about me.

This way he can party with people he hasn't seen in almost four decades.

And visit his daughter that he hasn't seen in 10 years as well. I know I would just be in the way and it would be awkward.

So I will be celebrating our anniversary at the Westin with room service and a glass or three of wine.

Happy Anniversary Old Man. Party Hearty and Be Careful.

Where's Ethel When You Need Her?

We've been staying at Staybridge Suites for the last week while the great bathroom rehab begins. (Before pics soon). While the breakfast fare has been a bit lacking, the hotel is comfortable and extremely clean.

Maybe a little too clean now....

I decided to do a little laundry last night (free, btw). They had brand new front loading washers and since I was still reeling over the fact that they were free, I didn't read all of the little stickers posted on the washer.

Like the sticker that said to only use 1/2 the regular amount of detergent.

Yep, that one.

So when I returned to switch everything there was soap suds oozing from the washer. And I mean oozing.

So I think I can just fix it myself by grabbing a few towels from the pool.

No, that didn't work.

I finally had to admit defeat and throw myself on the mercy of the front desk clerk.

And I made the Sgt Maj finish it since I was too embarrased to show my face again.

It took three washings to get all the detergent out.

All I needed at that point was Ethel.

Baby, I'm Amazed

It's hard to believe that my baby girl is 26 today.

26

26, married.

Wow

It seems only yesterday that I was stepping on Barbies and My Little Ponies in the shower.

Only yesterday that you hung onto me so much we sang Leech Baby to the Beach Baby melody.

I miss my little girl.

I even miss the cheerleader.

So Happy Birthday Sweetheart....You are the light of my life.

Of Cats and Men

Sad times.

We put down two of our old cats this week. One had a tumor and the other just decided to stop eating.

While logically I know they were old and suffering, it doesn't make it any easier.

Today was Daisy's turn. My daughter couldn't face doing it, I left her sobbing in the parking lot as I took her to the vet.

In many ways it is like I am saying goodbye to my little girl as well. She turns 26 tomorrow and while you would say she is an adult, married for almost two years.....Daisy was her baby, she would sit on her lap when she wrote her term papers.

So, goodbye Callie and Daisy. I hope there is plenty of tuna in kitty heaven.

Is the Holiday Over Already?

Happy belated 4th. Had a wonderful weekend in South Haven Michigan....nice to see the sun set over Lake Michigan.

Only the Federal Government

Would run the heat all weekend when it's almost July.....

I'm in hell.

Father's Day, Yoga, and all that jazz

So. I had every intention of posting a letter to my father yesterday, but I just couldn't do it. Even after all this time, the pain is too raw, too sensitive that I really can't come up with a coherent thought. Just that I miss you all the time, Dad. Anytime Lori says something clever, I think of you. Especially when she is sarcastic and cutting, at those times I know the legacy lives on.

Father's Day since his death is difficult because his birthday was at the same time, it's just too many anniversaries and reminders. Add to that the fact that Mom died at this time, it's just too much.

While the SgtMaj went fishing I had a Phoenix Rising Yoga treatment. Very interesting and cathartic. After, I went to The Ruby Room and had a crystal treatment for my head (way cool) and then a facial. While that may seem overly indulgent for a holiday honoring fathers, I needed it. And as the old saying goes: "If Mama Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy"

I've decided to give Yoga another try as well. I have tried it many times in the past with no success. I have trouble hearing the instructor and then feel selfconscious, and then feel fat, clumsy, uncoordinated, etc etc. You get the picture. I really liked the girl that performed the treatment and plan to take some private instruction for a while before trying the class. We'll see how that goes.

I just know I have to do something for my general malaise. Of the spirit and the body.

We had a lovely dinner at Wildfire Restaurant on Saturday for Father's Day. Just the three of us, our little family without the distractions of the extended family. It was enjoyable seeing the SgtMaj and the daughter conversing as adults. Not just as father/daughter, but as people. There might be hope yet for the old boy.

So a Happy Belated Father's Day to all of the Dads out there, both male and female.

It takes a special person to be a real Dad. I miss you.

A Year Ago Today

A Year Ago Today I presented your Living Will to the Social Worker at the hospital and signed the papers to remove you from Life Support.

A Year Ago Today I had to explain over and over again to the nursing staff at the hospital that it really was your wishes to have a Living Will.

That you had signed that Living Will almost 25 years ago following the premature death of your husband. That you were passionate about it.

And that I, (who worked hospice and geriatrics for years) would ensure that your wishes were followed to the letter.

No respirator. No surgery that would further incapacitate you.

Rather, a gentle easing into the night with the help of Morphine.

A Year Ago Today your family gathered at your bedside for their last goodbyes.

I explained again to your children, your grandchildren exactly what that entailed. Exactly what you wanted.

A Year Ago Today would have been Dad's 70th Birthday. If he had lived to raise the children he adored.

Instead we said goodbye to another parent and vowed that we would do everything in our power so that our children would not have to say goodbye to us so young.

Rest in Peace Mom

Be Careful What You Wish For

Been a while, eh? Crazy days here at the Snarky Table, let me tell you.

I switched departments at work and am now the proud owner of my own cubicle. WOOHOO! I can't tell you how cool it is to have my very own space now. My photos, orchid, air freshener reeds etc. I can keep my gym shoes (does anyone even call them that any more?) under my desk alongside my fashionable flats from Nordstrum Rack. I love you Nordstrom Rack for the designer shoes I can actually afford.

The downside to this is I do miss my girls from my old section. There's not a whole lot of interaction here, everyone is chained to their own little corner of the universe. I'm not complaining, mind you, it's a lot less stressful here than in the assylum....but it does get a bit lonely.

The interesting thing is as much as I craved a less stressful environment, a chance to catch my breath and just be able to think, I find myself wondering what everyone is up to. What's going on in their lives. What's up with the patients.

Be careful what you wish for.


For another story under that title, my daughter started her job with a well known laser center. She was the first from her class to be placed and was really excited about working on the medical side of beauty.

While she is doing better now a few weeks later, it has not been an easy transition. She has found just doing laser treatments to be monotonous and tiring. I guess the whole "high tech" beauty treatments aren't quite what she had expected either.

Again, be careful what you wish for.

We've talked about and she feels better now, but there were a few tense calls and e-mails there. I've reassured her that it's not forever, that once she gets enough experience she can explore more wholistic options at that time.

So as it finally looks like summer has arrived in Chicago. Right now the sky is blue and the temps in the high '80's. Oh and it's humid as hell with thunderstorms on the horizon. Yep, summer in Chi-town.

What Do You Wear to a Communion Open House Anyway?

(Fair Warning: Long convoluted post, I promise I come to the point eventually)

When I was fourteen years old there was two things I wanted more than anything in the world (besides David Cassidy's love, that is).

I really wanted an older brother and a baby sister.

You see, I had had enough of being the oldest.

Of being resonsible.

Of being responsible for my two younger brothers.

My mother was pregnant at the time, so there was a 50/50 chance on the baby sister. I believe I talked about Angie earlier.

A sister! Hazzah!

The older brother, however, seemed pretty much impossible. Seriously now, how was my mother supposed to pull that one off? Go back in time? Have a baby at oh, 12?

Anyway.

Round about this time, 1975, (Yes boys and girls I am an old lady) my father sat me down and told me that he had been married before he had met my mother.

Really?

Oh, and they were married in the Catholic Church and her name was Mary and they had a son.

WHAT?

It seems the marriage didn't work out. They were both so young and my father was a bit of a hot head in those days. They divorced and she disapeared with their son.

For 15 years.

That's right. For 15 years my father didn't know where he was or if he was o.k.

He hired a PI when I was young who was only able to find out that Mary had travelled to California. After that, they disapeared.

It seems Mary remarried (say that three times really fast) and told everyone that Phillip's father was deceased. Her new husband adopted him and raised him.

After they divorced she returned to Chicago. By then he was in High School.

A few years later, Phillip was looking at some photos from a dance that one of his buddy's parents had gone to.

He asked him who one of the men were in the pics.

"You know, he looks like how I always pictured my real dad. What's his name?"

Well it was his real dad. The father who hadn't died in the '60's. Who was very much alive.

After confronting Mary, he found out the truth. The jerk that raised him, abused him. Locked him in the attic when he misbehaved, was not his father.

Rudy was his father. And he had brothers and a sister he never knew existed.

How sad.

From 1975 to 1982, Phillip and his new wife and kids were a constant presence in our lives.

Angie and her "niece" Kelly played together.

My nieces and nephew hung all over me like all of the other little kids. (I was a baby magnet, I tell ya).

And we were one big happy dysfunctional modern family.


Until Dad's death.

Then Phillip and his family pretty much disapeared. I see a trend here.

It seems that immediately following the funeral, when Phillip questioned Tony giving away some of Dad's things, Tony told him to mind his own business. That he wasn't really part of the family.

It crushed him.

I never knew it happened until recently.

I had no idea how he or his family was doing. They moved from the city and all of my cards and letters were returned.

Until Facebook.

We have an unusual last name. There's only a handful of us left so finding us was fairly easy.

We have since met again and have been in touch through Facebook.

What does this have to do with an Open House you might ask......

The SgtMaj and I are going to my brother's house today for an Open House to celebrate their grandson's Communion. (Legally he is their son, but that's another story).

I figure I'll wear a work outfit. I'm assuming the other guests will be coming from church and will be dressed appropriatlely.

I think.

The last time I attended Mass there were people in jeans.

It disturbed me.

I am an old lady

On Friends and Facebook

Now that I have Mother Bashing out of my system I plan to put the psychologist/philosopher hat back on.

An incident yesterday on Facebook made me think about friends and relationships and how we are multi-faceted beings and maybe all of the different people in our lives really shouldn't meet.

WHEW! Did that make any sense? Any at all?

Let me explain.

You know whenever you attempt to bring different friends from different areas in your life together (let's say you plan a dinner party and invite your very best old friend from high school and then your cubicle mate from work and someone from your mom's group).

Confused yet?

And these are all people that have meaning to you...you share a history with them all, but in different ways.

And they hate each other. "Who was that idiot you sat me next to?" "Don't tell me you really like her" "You've been friends since high school? You have nothing in common"

etc. etc.

Kind of like a wedding, eh?

That is how Facebook is. You have relatives and friends. Co-workers and acquaintances all in one little corner of your friend's list. If you brought them together in a room you would be exhausted.

But yet, they can interact and talk amongst themselves.

At will.

Now you may ask: Where am I going with this?

Yesterday an old friend of my sister posted something on her wall about my sister.

Something hurtful that my sister said.

Something for which she has apologized for repeatedly in the last six months.

And all of this woman's other people proceeded to rip into my sister. It went on most of the day and some very hurtful things were said all around.

Should Facebook be a tool for airing dirty laundry?

It's basically a giant electronic gossip mill. In posting things that are bothering you, you open yourself up to the scrutiny of the masses.

And the results are not always pretty.

And I am stuck in the middle.

For we are now talking about my loyalty and love for my sister vs. the love I feel for someone I have seen as another little sister.

For this reason I haven't commented at all on Facebook.

I don't want to make it any worse than it is.

But it's a shame that the dirty laundry of a 30 year old friendship was hung up for all the world to see.

Mother's Day

I wasn't quite sure what to say about Mother's Day. This is our first without Mother, so of course my thoughts have been with her.

On relationships and their failings. On lost opportunities.

You see, we had a strained relationship at best. While I loved her, I didn't always like her.

There, I said it.

I have had problems with her life choices, her passive aggressive nature. How much of this was the result of her upbringing as the youngest daughter of a divorced woman in the '40's? I don't know.

She was just a baby when she married and gave birth to me. Did this affect her parenting abilities? Absolutely.

She was a very nervous mother. She was unsure of herself when I was young. Since she was so unhappy with her situation, she took her frustration out on me.

If I wasn't perfect, I was punished. I had to be clean and neat at all times. Quiet and unobtrusive.

My compulsive tendencies were born from this. I expect perfection from myself, and when that is impossible, I agonize over it.

When she gave birth to my siblings I was expected to take care of them. Which I did. I am the one that would get up in the middle of the night to feed and sooth them. Even on a school night.

So much of who I am is a result of her parenting. Or lack thereof.

So on this first Mother's Day without you Mom, I say this:

I never understood you. I disagreed with how you raised me, and especially my siblings. I never understood the yelling, the spankings, your total lack of drive or ambition.

I certainly didn't understand how self-destructive you were. I never will.

But I do love you, and I miss you.

Your shortcomings became my triumphs.

Being your daughter made me into a better mother, a better sister, a better wife.

Certainly a better communicator.

Rest in Peace Mom.

Random Thoughts

So I realize that I haven't written much lately, just caught up in life, I suppose. Every time I sit down to write my thoughts are chaotic and unorganized.

So I bring you some Random Thoughts instead:

I need a break. Seriously. So DD and I are going to Heartland Spa next weekend to celebrate her good news and just chill out. Hopefully this will get me back on track with my weight loss and fitness/health goals.

So onto news:

DD got a job!!!! WOOHOO!!! I can't even say how much of a relief this is (and not just because I have been slipping her $500 here and there for the last year) She made the decision last year to leave her job as a personal assistant/receptionist in an Accounting Firm to persue something completely different. Last summer she started Esthetician School and just finished a few weeks ago. It has been a lean and stressful year for her. She really wanted to get into medical treatments and not just facials and waxing.

I'm happy to say she starts working for the American Laser Centers next Monday. Exactly what she wanted and making more than what she made before. Hazzah! She was the first of her class to be placed so that has her pretty psyched.


Why, oh why, does produce taste better from Whole Foods? Is it because you pay so much for it and tell yourself you better like it to get your money's worth? Is it really superior? Either way I spent an insane amount of money yesterday for two measly bags worth of food.......but the cantelope was pretty tasty let me tell you.


DD and her husband bought a new sectional for their living room and gave us her old leather sofa and loveseat (oh and an area rug for good measure). Does this mean I'm getting old now that my child is giving me her hand-me-downs???

Please don't answer that.


My niece is turning one next week. How is that even possible? This means that Mother has been gone for almost a year. No thoughts on that one.


Why am I such a wuss when it comes to refinancing the rental property? I know logically that I should to both finance some much needed rehab and to pay off some of my credit card debt. I have a degree in Accounting (albeit dusty) and know that it is a sound financial decision, but am dragging my heals anyway.


The SgtMaj turned 55 last week. How the hell did that happen? Am I now middle aged by association? Oh that's right, I'm middle aged all on my own, I forgot.


That's it, not much to report. Ciao all

Blessed Friday

Soooo.....

I am alive (couldn't use that title again so soon). Long couple of weeks at work, decided to take a mental health day (albeit without pay).

I think I've complained about this before, but I have somehow become the resident Psychiatrist at work. Everyone tells me their problems, and I mean everyone. Co-workers, bosses, the chick in the cafeteria. (Did I ever mention that I'm not very sociable?)

I truly know where all the bodies are buried. And who is having problems with their spouses, children, bowels and whatever else they can come up with.

While I am flattered that people trust me with their secrets, it is tiring. Very tiring.

And let's not even get started with the backstabbing and gossip.

So, pay or no pay I needed some time alone for a few hours.

To balance my checkbook.

To paint my poor neglected nails.

To go to Whole Foods and fondle the produce.

To talk to myself even.

Ahhhhh. Because you know, I have the best secrets of all.

Have a good Friday. Stay safe.

Happy Easter!

I'm Alive!

I am, I am. While I promised myself I would post at least once a week, life got in the way as it is wont to do.

Lor and Vlad had a pretty good time in the Dominican Republic. She said the beaches were beautiful, but they weren't too happy with the whole "all inclusive" promises from the resort. Live and Learn. At least now they don't have to return and he will stop bugging her about it.

While they were gone I condo and cat sat. (sitted, whatever). That ended up being a little more involved than I had anticipated.

I woke up at 2 am (my usual) the first night to find a few inches of water on their bathroom floor. It seems the tiolet had been running all night and I didn't hear it due to my hearing loss. I threw towels on the floor (which I had just washed the day before) and shut off the valve for the water.

The following morning I went to work with the intention of dealing with the problem that evening.

After researching on the internet, I figured the stopper thing (I'm no bloody plumber here!) was not fitting properly. I bought a plunger for good measure (and why didn't they have one?)

When I arrive back at the condo, there is a note from the owner of the condo below theirs saying that there had been water leaking from their ceiling.

BUT, OF COURSE

I was afraid of that. I assured the tenants and the owner that the problem was being fixed. Of course the owner looked at me like I was nuts. Why was I cat-sitting? Why was I condo sitting?

Don't ask why, you idiot. You're lucky I was here or the damage would have been much worse.

Anyway, the SgtMaj replaced the guts to the tank and the problem is fixed.

Cost: $12.95. Damage to the downstairs condo? Who knows....I'm just the cat sitter.

I didn't sleep much all week, every new noise woke me up, and the cat meowed constantly. Thank God I'm deaf!


On another subject: Work was brutal all week. We were down to 50% of our regular staff. Needless to say I need a break.

I promise to post a few pics later showing the bedroom changes. Paint change that is. Nothing drastic, but a lot more soothing.

Caio

Would You Rather?

This:


Or This?



I thought so.

The kids left early this morning for their belated Honeymoon to the Dominican Republic.

The weather all week was in the high '60's and sunny, beautiful. Until today.

Did the kids know something we didn't?

Happy St. Patty's Day!

So, I was all excited last night. Peeled the potatoes and put the corned beef in the crock pot for today.

This morning I add some spices, beer and water...turn on the crockpot.....I AM ready!

Come home tonight ready for some corned beef and beer.

As I walk down the hallway I am a little surprised I don't smell our dinner. I walk into the condo and still don't smell anything (except cats).

My crockpot bit the dust.

No corned beef

No potatoes

STILL plenty of beer, thank God

Pizza for dinner. And a Happy St. Pat's to you!

Bittersweet

This pic is of my daughter Lauren holding her cousin Olivia, Angie's daughter.

It was taken at the forest preserve that Mom loved. She played there as a child and returned years later when she sought peace.

On this Saturday following Thanksgiving we were scattering half of her ashes, per her wishes. The other half was placed on Dad's grave. Also, per her wishes.

You see, since Dad was such a popular guy his wake was a very public affair. We had Union Reps, Irish Clowns and Airport Commisioners. Politicians and Gang Bangers. Family and Friends.

It was a zoo.

And very, very upsetting for the widow.

She made me promise that there would be no wake for her.

No funeral.

No casket.

Ashes scattered at the two most meaningful places by her children and grandchildren.

We weren't able to do this in June as she was an organ donor and Angie had to return home to her newborn daughter before her body was released.

I dreaded this day. I'm not comfortable displaying emotions in front of others.

I am The Strong One. The Big Sister. The Mom.

And now, the Matriarch.

But, as we walked through the forest to the bridge that crossed a little stream, it seemed so right, so destined.

Rest in peace, Mom. You'll be missed.

Angie

Enough with chronological order! Let's continue with The Fable:



When I was in Junior High (Or CPS's lame version of Jr. High), I was quite in demand as a babysitter. All of the moms in the neighborhood wanted me. The rational was if I could keep my two unrully brothers in line, I could do anything!

Quite true. Kids loved me, babies adored me. Yet another reason I imagined a large family in my future, but alas (if you've read my previous post) that was not meant to be.

Back to the story. I really wanted two things: a sister and an older brother. I figured the older brother thing was a wash so I prayed for a sister.

And I mean pray. This was during my two year stint as a Jehovah's Witness (NOW, there's a story). I was pretty good at the whole prayer thing.

Then mother became pregnant again. (Oh, and let me tell you, religion or not I was snarky even then...I made it quite clear that the thought of my parents Getting It On was disgusting!)

So I prayed for a girl. Because another little brother was unthinkable. I even went so far as to tell my mother that she was welcome to come home from the hospital, but if she had a son, he was not.

Snarky already

On my first day of High School I came home to a note saying that she was in labor. I prayed some more.

A few hours later the call came: "How are you Mom? Good, Good. Sooooo???? (LONG pause) A girl? Thank You God! You may both come home"

Mind you this isn't a direct quote. LOL, but it's pretty close. Over the years Mom said she knew I was bossy but that just solidified my bitchy status. hehehe

Well, Angela Nicole was a beauty. And such a good baby. Once she was too large for the bassinet she was moved to a crib in an upstairs bedroom. Mother was hard of hearing even then and Dad could sleep through bombing, so I was pretty much her primary caregiver at night.

After school she became my official mascot, going everywhere with me. As a matter of fact, strangers on the street would mistake her for my own. Many times arguing with me that she was mine. (Sorry, but I think I would have remembered that whole birthing thing)

When she was preschool age I enlisted in the Marine Corps. She says she was devastated. I am sorry for that Ang, I just had to get out of Dodge, you know?

Over the years our relationship was more like that of an Aunt and niece due to the age difference. After Lauren was born she would come visit us wherever we were living at the time: Cape Cod, Philly, and lastly, California.

When we lived in CA, she spent most of her summers with us, with many of her friends joining thoughout.

This has made Angie and Lori close, like sisters. Angie was Lor's Maid of Honor at her wedding last year (trust me she worked her butt off that day! The pic is from the wedding) They list each other as siblings on Facebook.

Angie lives in Florida now with her significant other. Her older son is living with his father here in Chicago (long story there). She has a new beautiful daughter Olivia Nicole who is now almost a year old. And she is a pill, let me tell you! Hehe.....Just last night our phone conversation was laced with: "stop climbing, get out of the garbage".

The legacy continues.

Side note: I would put a few more pics in here but I have yet to figure out how to do that in the correct order. I'm working on it.

You Know That's Why It's Called Work?

While I know I really have only been sick for about 10 days it has felt like forever. Once upon a time I had a fairly strong immune system, but since I started working at my new job I seem to have caught just about every bug that has come my way.

Mind you, I took Microbiology many moons ago and am a fanatic about disinfecting. I mean fanatic. That's one of those courses that stuck out in my head even after I stopped taking care of patients. You want your work space sterile? I'm your girl.

Anyway, I have been a bit crabby. Well, maybe a little more than a bit.

I've felt poorly and add that with many, many policy changes at work, and it makes for bad morale.

I'm sure this has spilled over into my performance (or lack thereof). I have been fortunate that everyone has attributed this to my being sick and has pretty much written off my crankiness.

But it has to stop.

Cause and Effect takes no prisoners. Or is that Karma is a bitch? One or the other, or both.

So....I plan to take a Benadryl tonight so I have a solid night's sleep and plan to do some housekeeping tomorrow. On both my home and my attitude.

Come Monday, Mama's back to work.

You call this pizza??

So still sick. I took the day off to get extra sleep and to check out Jenny Craig.

Aetna has an offer for a free 30 day program so I thought I would give it a shot. While I have had a lot of success with Weight Watchers in the past, I haven't been motivated. It's now March and I'm the heaviest I've ever been.

1st impressions:

The girl wasn't too happy that I wasn't willing to fork over almost $400 for a one year program. Sorry chickie, doesn't work that way. What if I don't like your program? What if I don't like your food? No mention of the 20 pounds for $20 that is advertised. Mhmmmmmm.

Good thing I've taken Marketing.

Also, when you're attempting to sell something, frequent phone calls are a No-No. Just sayin'

The sad thing is that years ago when I was easily embarrased and wanted people to like me I would have felt pressured into signing for it. I wouldn't want to appear cheap or unwilling to commit to my goals.

Now that I'm aged to perfection (like that?) I'm not quite as gullible or eager to please. And unless you expect me to strip naked for the "before" pic, I'm not going to be embarrased either.

Also, $138 for one week of food? In teeny tiny pacs? We'll see how this plays out as well.

Had my first meal for lunch: the personal pizza. Bland as hell, made me want to reach for a Lean Cuisine.

Like I said, I commited myself to a month. If I don't lose a nice amount of weight I guess I will go back to Weight Watchers.

Seriously, though, I hate their frickin' meetings! I don't want to hold hands and sing Kumbayah. (No they don't really do that, but they might as well)

I HATE February, or Winter or Both......Whatever

No pics yet, I have the nastiest cold ever. Thank You, February!

Will it ever be warm again? Will it ever be light again. Damn SADD! Damn Chicago February Gloom. (For those of you on the East Coast, an apology...I know you're up to your pits in snow)

So that's it. It's 2 am, I can't sleep even hyped up on NyQuil and Lambrusco (Wait, are you supposed to take that with alcohol?) Well I'm still breathing, albeit through my mouth, so I guess so.

BTW, I LOVE the new blue walls in the bedroom! It will look awesome once I put up some brown drapes.

I also love the lack of clutter. Way more than I thought I would. Of course this prompted the SgtMaj to throw his hands up in disgust and say: "This is our home, not a(n) hotel room!" Now imagine a tall skinny blonde man saying that with an accent like Scotty from the original Star Trek......I love accents! And no, the SgtMaj doesn't have an accent, I've just lost my mind. "Captain, I'm not a miracle worker!" Hehehe

(And are we supposed to put "an" in front of a word that starts with H? I can never remember that rule from like 4th grade....maybe because 4th grade was about 4 million years ago!)

Editorial note: While the combo of NyQuil and Lambrusco hasn't helped me sleep, after reading this everyone else will be put to sleep!

Ciao all....may you stay healthy and warm this dismal end of February...I'm going to try to sleep.

Painting Sux

Why, oh why does painting seem like such a good idea when you're standing in Lowes?

Back to the bedroom, pics when I'm done.

Have a good weekend everyone.

"Haven't Got Time for the Pain"

Much as I would have liked to fire off some witty post today, I was sidelined with yet another migraine. Thanks Perimenopause, you've made your point.

I have a feeling Topamax is in my future.

Has anyone taken this? Did you have any problems with it?

Happy Valentine's Day

This was going to be a post about how much I hate February, but I'll get to that one later...


Happy Valentine's Day to you and yours.


May you have a life of Abundance: Health, Safety, Wealth and above all: Love.

Monkey Mind and The Super Bowl

Hey, that could be the title of a movie

or a song....

Wait, why can't I get Loverboy's Working for the Weekend out of my mind???

Stop, Focus

Monkey Mind in Buddhism refers to those times that you can't stay focused. You can't meditate since your mind is spinning in thousands of different directions.

You are unable to stay on task, whether it is meditating, studying, or anything else for that matter.

Today's post was intended to be about New Orleans. A brief stroll down memory's lane if you will.

So let's see if I can shut down the Monkey Mind and stay focused here. (Now I'm hearing Manic Monday, BAH)

The SgtMaj and I were booked for a vacation back in September of 2005. We were going to go to the AARP convention in New Orleans. I was pretty psyched as they had a great lineup of guest speakers and performers including Tina Turner, whom I adore.

Little Side Note: I am not old enough to be a member of AARP on my own. The SgtMaj who is a tad older than me, is. hehehe

If I haven't mentioned this before, I am a bit of a control freak. They call me OCD Girl at work. I planned and planned and planned. Every moment of our upcoming trip was set.

Well, we all know what happened.

I was horrified at the destruction of the hurricane. The news reels made me wish that I had finished my RN so that I could go down and help.

They are still recovering 5 years later.

When the Levees Broke by Spike Lee can still bring me to tears. What harrowing stories.

Three years later, the Sgt Maj's company planned to send him to New Orleans for a Trade Show. You better believe I took some time off to get some of that.

I took the Spirit of New Orleans down (Now I can't get that bloody song out of my head!)

If you have never taken the train on a long distance trip it is quite the experience. I don't fly well, so I have taken trains all over the country with Amtrak. You share meals with other passengers in the dining car. Quite interesting.

I met an older woman who still does not know what happened to her daughter.

A man in his thirties whose home was destroyed, he now lived with relatives in Chicago and traveled every weekend to work on his home; while his wife and children stayed back in the city in a small bedroom trying to get their lives together. Waiting for it to be safe enough to go home.

Pulling into LA, I started to see the destruction. Three years later.

I took walking tours and ate my share of gumbo. Oh, I ate some gumbo.

While riding in a cab to NOMA (New Orleans Museum of Art), I saw more abandoned homes the farther from the French Quarter that we drove. The markings from the search crew eerily still visible.

Sgt Maj and I stayed an extra weekend so that we could go to Jazz Fest. The area around the race track was the same. Three years later.

I understand there are still people displaced. The shame.

What amazed me during my vacation is how nice the locals were. I was thanked for visiting, thanked for spending money. For having faith in them.

Wow, that they should have such faith in us as Americans.

Soooooo......

I am cheering for The Saints today. What a shot in the arm. What a long time coming.

Here's to you NOLA....

Stuff

So a post over at www.fatcatcrochet.com (sorry, my frickin' link thing isn't working right) this morning had me thinking about all of my crap.

Now I'm not talking about the SgtMaj's crap, that would take the writing of volumes. Oh and now there's even more since he started his PhD. Mind you all of his books and notes taunt me on a daily basis: "Why aren't you doing something constructive with your time, hhhmmmm?"

Instead I read blogs and play Farmville on Facebook. (I know, no socially redeeming value there, but addicting)

Again I ramble.

I started going through some of the stuff in the walk in closet that I have been planning to rehab for over a month. I think I even wrote something about it. I discovered no less than 4 different sizes of coats, jackets, sweaters.

Good thing my hands don't gain weight or I'd have a shitload of gloves as well.

This made me look at my personal closet....at the boxes and boxes of clothes in different sizes.

Which made me think about weight loss...and exercising. Both of which hasn't been happening here at The Snarky Table.

For you see, as stated previously, I like to read others' blogs and play Farmville. Not harvest the crops physically, but with a click of the mouse.

So, I have an ever growing rear end and carpel tunnel in the right wrist.

Nice.

So once I'm done harvesting my Super Pumpkins this morning (hey, I can't kick the habit all at once), I am going to bag up all of the old clothes for charity. Because., honestly here, I lose 20 pounds? Mama is buying some new jeans.

Have a good one people.

Mamma Mia

What a cute musical! The little girl that played the lead had a slow start, but it was an enjoyable evening.

We stayed at the Crowne Plaza Rosemont which is literally next door to the theatre. Here is where it gets a little tricky.

Several months ago I stayed there with the SgtMaj when we saw Robin Williams at the same theatre (Hysterical show BTW). Nice room, all grey blue and brown. They had a cute little "sleep bag" in the room with an eye mask, pillow spray, and ear plugs in a little mesh bag. While this isn't why I chose the hotel again, I thought Lor would get a kick out of it.

The SgtMaj and I went to Rick's Bar and later ate in their restaurant. Good food, cute bar. I thought Lor would enjoy them as well. (We both have an appreciation for classy little bars....wow, what a legacy).

Soooo....we get there and we're stuck on the 2nd floor (Lor smokes and that is the smoking floor). She offered to go outside to smoke as there was no balcony, but whenever she does this I am a basket case worrying about her by herself.

I know I'm a worrying nutjob.

Anyway, since the room had two beds it was a little cramped, but still nice. I took pics but they didn't turn out right.

Maybe I should take a class?

But where's the little bag of sleeping goodies? They didn't have it in the room. When I asked the idiot girl at the desk, she said they were only for special rates and rooms. ?????? We had a regular room last time.

Now good customer service would warrant the gifting of a little bag since I inquired, but alas, no luck.

THEN, we go down for a glass of wine and dinner, and the bloody thing is closed!

The girl at the desk said they were rehabbing. Now why wasn't that on the website? Mhhhmmmm? I have booked hotels in the past that stated rehabs when you booked. There was no mention of this at all. So we ate in the little cafe. The food was good, but it missed the ambiance of the restaurant.

So now I'm rethinking returning there in March when we see Ron White. Oh, and if you've never heard Ron White (He's actually part of the Redneck Comedy Tour). I know, I know, I don't care for Jeff Foxworthy, but Ron is really funny.

In the scheme of things I know this isn't important. We were safe and warm and fed. We enjoyed each other's company and watched a cute musical.

I'll stop bitching now.

On Death and Family

**Warning: Rambling Post**

The photo is the only close up that I could find. It is from the kids' wedding.

My son in law's step-grandfather died yesterday. My immediate reaction was, how sad. I know he was 89, ill and a bit of a bear, but it still warrants a moment.

He was a Russian Jew that survived a concentration camp in Poland. (Sorry, I don't know which one). He lost many family members and wouldn't talk about it.

He was an officer in the Russian Army (General?). He didn't talk much about that either.

Technically, we never talked about much since his English was sketchy at best and my Russian is nonexistent.

We did have a nice conversation at Easter dinner a few years ago. He was tickled pink that Christian and Orthodox Easter fell on the same weekend as Passover. He didn't feel like an outsider for once.

Let me repeat that: He didn't feel like an outsider for once.

He left Russia with his wife's family to America in the early '90's. They didn't really have a game plan, just a wish to experience Religious Freedom and Capitalism all in one little package: America.

A story we have all heard before, a family's journey to what they pray is a better life.

The family grew and babies were born. Businesses started and money earned.

The American Dream.

So here's to you, you old Russian bear:

I hope you are free of pain and in the bosom of your loving family. They waited a long time to see you again.

Salud

Happy Friday!

Happy Friday everyone! While this was a short work week for me, it sure seemed to go on forever. TGIF

Tomorrow Lor and I go to the Rosemont Theatre to see Mamma Mia live. We're pretty psyched. We plan to go to dinner first and stay at a neighboring hotel after.

This time I will try my best to actually take pics. We'll see, that would mean I would have to remember the camera AND remember to take pictures. That might just be a little too much for my menopausal brain to handle.

I hope everyone has a good, safe weekend.

12 Year Old Boy?

So I did it.

For months I have entertained the idea of cutting my hair. Should I? Shouldn't I?

Maybe just an inch?

Maybe just change the part?

People, I have worn my hair the same way for over 25 years!

25 Years!

It's like I'm MLynn Eateneton (Sally Field) in Steel Magnolias, I was so attatched to the same hair style.

I went in today and took my girl's advice......

And now I'm bald and look like a 12 year old boy (from 1952) in the back.

Pics tomorrow when I find the camera......

Where the hell is the camera?

Haiti

I tried to think of something clever to write, but wasn't successful. So I'll just be sincere.

My heart and my prayers go out to the poor victims of this tragedy.

I gave as much as I could just as I gave to the residents of New Orleans.

If you can give, please do so.


And a note to Pat Robertson: Shame On You

Looking for a Condo in Chicago??

Just kidding.

No, not really.

Hehehe

In 2002 Lori graduated from High School and the SgtMaj retired from the Marine Corps. Since she wanted to go to school in Chicago (my hometown), we decided to relocate here to be near family.

Our plan was to live in the "family building" (more on that at a later date) and not buy until we had jobs and had a better idea of where we wanted to live.

The SgtMaj always planned to get a nice government job at NTC Great Lakes and I a position with a university in the area. Since I had experience as both an academic advisor and as a college Registrar, this wasn't too much of a stretch.

I even had this wild fantasy that the kid would get free tuition at a great Catholic University since I worked there....do you hear me DePaul? huh? Loyola? You guys broke my heart.

This was the year after 9/11 and many middle managers that lost their jobs switched over to education...the university position never happened. So much for the Masters in Education with an Emphasis in Adult Learning. Are you listening DePaul, Loyola?

What does this have to do with our condo you might ask (if you have stuck with this post this long).

We finally purchased a condo on the lake near Loyola a few years ago,since it didn't look like the SgtMaj would ever get his government position and he worked in the Loop. I was working for a local hospital in a position that I was grossly overqualified for.

Where are the bloody violins?

So now.....we both have positions in the Great White North and commute a few hours a day.

Oh, the humanity.

And since the market is so bad right now we will probably be living here forever....

Bah!

So, this winter will be spent trying to get the place show ready. Joy. Did I mention it is in a vintage building and falling down around my ears? Hhmmmmmm?

I am now addicted to HGTV: Designed to Sell and Design on a Dime have become my new favorite shows.

So in the weeks to come I will be posting before and after pictures of this wonderful, vintage art deco building on the lake. Hopefully someone will fall in love with it and want it for their very own. LOL

Tony

The fact that I couldn't find one good picture of my brother Tony is telling. He is in the front with other family all around.

I haven't continued with my Fable because if I were to go in chronological order Tony would be next.

And this one is tricky....

Let me explain.

I was an only child for six years. I was a daddy's girl and loved it.

My mother didn't work outside of the home (most moms in the '60's did not). I pretty much had her undivided attention.

Then came Tony. Mom and Dad tried for several years to have him, he was planned.

Tony was one miserable baby. And I mean miserable.

He cried all the time. Nonstop.

When he was strong enough to get on his hands and knees he would rock back and forth banging his head on the side of the crib. While crying, of course.

They had no clue what to do with him.

Tony was later diagnosed as "hyperactive" and given large amounts of Ritalin. This caused all kinds of other problems.

He had a lazy eye that required him to wear an eyepatch for several years to strengthen the weak one. He had many other health problems as well but this is a family friendly blog so I won't go into detail.

Growing up, I pretty much just tolerated him. He would go through my things and steal from me. By the time I was in High School I had to sleep with my wallet.

When Tony was in High School, (right before Dad's death), he was in a terrible motorcycle accident. He had a compound fracture of the femur that required surgery and a long recovery.

My parent's idiot doctor overmedicated him. By the way, this is the same doctor that would later kill our father. But I digress.

By the time Tony received the settlement money from the driver of the car that caused the accident, he was addicted to the painkillers.

When the doctor cut him off cold turkey, he graduated to cocaine.

By 1987 when Dad died, he was quite the addict. This only became worse.

Mother fell into a severe depression following Dad's death. (Thanks doctor for handling that poorly as well). Maybe she could have helped him if she wasn't in a haze, who knows.

By the early '90's he had been in and out of rehab a few times.

He was clean, then he wasn't. Sober, then he wasn't.

Eventually, after terrorizing his younger siblings and repeatedly ripping off the family, he was on the streets.

A homeless drug addict.

Over the years we would hear from him, how he had found Jesus. How he had his life together.

And then, he would be back on drugs. Some random hospital would call Mother saying he was being treated for some illness or injury.

He spent several years in jail following a burglary conviction.

Dad's dying broke her heart. Tony's addiction broke it again.

One day she received a phone call from a hospital in Georgia. It seems Tony had been "riding the rails" and when caught, he fell off of the train and it severed his foot. That's right, severed his foot. He was fitted with an artificial foot and went into a rehab facility where he learned to use his new prosthetic, found a wife, found Jesus (again) and was clean and sober.

It didn't last. As years passed he would drop in unexpectedly looking for a place to stay or money. Or both.

Following Mother's death in June, my sister Angie set out to find him. While he hadn't inherited anything, we felt he had a right to know.

She couldn't find him. Later we found out why.

He had been found unconscious on the street of Florida and later died.

In February.

Since he didn't have any identification, the police had to run his fingerprints to find his NOK. They finally found her when the prints matched from his prison time.

I hope that you are finally at peace Tony.

Thank God Mother never knew you died in February.

Gossip, Drama, and Intrigue

Otherwise known as work.

Honestly folks, what's up with people?

Why can't you just show up on time, ready to work?

Why don't we take care of the morning rush before wandering off for coffee, breakfast, Dr's appointments, gossip, etc. etc. etc.

I too, would like to get a mocha and a big water (oh that's right, I got those before sitting at my computer).

And seriously, unless I ask you why you're walking funny, I don't want to hear about your ingrown toenail. The puss, the agony.

No, I don't want to hear about your clubbing, your exciting sex life. I really don't need a detailed blow by blow account. My imagination can fill in the blanks.

And most of all:

I don't feel the need to gossip. If you want to engage in a little complaining, fine. We work close together and it is a bit incestuous. But please don't expect me to get in the mud and get personal. It's not going to happen.

I just want to do my thing, maybe have a few laughs. If I can make the day a little more pleasant for a patient in pain, even better.

But that's it.

Let's recap, shall we?

1. On time
2. Efficient
3. Quiet
4. Stay
5. Leave at your appointed time

That about covers it. Have a good day.

Avatar

WOW

That doesn't sound descriptive enough, does it?

I was a little reluctant to see this in 3D since I have Meniere's Disease and any kind of visual changes messes with it.

I decided to bite the bullet and go anyway.

WOW (Did I say that already?)

Besides being visually stunning. And I mean stunning! It had everything you could ask for:

Sweeping love story reminiscent of Rose and Jack

Battle Scenes (I closed my eyes during these)

Morality Tale

Computer Graphics that are so realistic I forgot they weren't real

3D

Pretty much everything you need.

I want to see it again in IMAX. Now that would be cool!

-1??

I know it's January and all......

BUT THIS IS CRAZY!

Random Find

Seriously, how cool are these?

I found them at Office Max! I'm still amazed.

Happy Birthday!

1st: If anyone actually read my rantings of last night, I apologize. There will be no more mention of my Big Fat New Years Crappy Birthday.....until next year, I'm sure.

Random birthday thoughts:

I turned 48 today.

While for most this is only significant in the sense that I am rapidly approaching the half century mark, for me it had deeper meaning.

Our dad died at 47.



I am a lot like him. I favor him physically and in temperment.

I have a strong work ethic and do not suffer fools gladly.

But I also inherited his high blood pressure and stocky Italian build. His impatience and stress. His sarcastic black humor.....

So all year I was in fear that I would follow in his footsteps and die.

Upbeat aren't I?

I am not, however, as sociable as him. Baby Brother Joe got that gene.

Where am I going with this???

I will make an effort to control my blood pressure. I will try my very best this year to meditate on a daily basis and exercise.

I will also lose at least 20 pounds. Man, where did that one come from? I hate to have to go back to Weight Watchers again!

But I will.

I want to be there when Lori has babies. I want to spoil them and cheer them on.

I want to be the cool grandmother that takes them to Disney World and the Field Museum.

The cool grandma that claps at awesome Christmas light displays.

Yeah, that one.

So for all of you: Happy New Year and good luck with your resolutions, whatever they may be.

Mine last year was to live to see another year. Check.

Peace and love from The Snarky Table