Dream Jobs

I have two dream jobs. I'm sure I could think of more but let's just not go there.

The first job was an opportunity I turned down when I was much younger. It was a radio job. It's one of the few times where I wistfully wonder what-if I'd taken the job. I was doing public service announcements for an organization I volunteered for and was eventually interviewed for said organization. Thus the job offer.

It was just a local, small town radio station but I would have done the morning news, color commentary, etc. Kind of like Robin on the Howard Stern show but on a much, much, much smaller scale. And with farm reports instead of strippers.

At the time, I was still young in the school administrator job and loving it. So turning it down at the time wasn't a huge issue. Also, it was so early in the morning to start and I knew I couldn't do it. 4:30 in the morning is just inhumane. The bow on the decision was a requirement for "live remotes" which meant I would be at openings of stores, restaurants, gas stations, etc. and working weekends. No thanks.

But it was So Much Fun being behind the mic & on the radio. That I could so get into.

Talking to Rosie on her test show made me remember that job like it happened yesterday.

Someday. Maybe.

Oh, and the other job? I'm kind of doing it, just not the way I want to: writer. So, I guess I only have one Dream Job if we go by the strict definition.

EPIC FAIL

No, really, EPIC.

So, my BFF's birthday was, holy crap, almost two moths ago. While I remembered to send a card & email, I've failed miserably on sending her a present.

I know, I know, I know! I SUCK.

So my penance is admitting it publicly. And letting her know that it's because I suck and only because I suck is the reason I missed sending a present.

Dear BFF K,

I publicly apologize for forgetting to follow through on your birthday present. I Suck.

I suck so badly that the light from Suck World can't reach me.

Keep your eye on the mailbox over the next week or so. This will hopefully redeem me in your eyes.

Meanwhile: MUAH!

One Down, One to Go

WASHINGTON DC- Triumphant Democrats passed landmark health care legislation in the House late Saturday night, spurred by a summons from President Barack Obama to "answer the call of history" and expand coverage to millions who lack it.

"...that opportunities like this come around maybe once in a generation.... This is their moment, this is our moment, to live up to the trust that the American people have placed in us..." "I urge members of Congress to rise to this moment. Answer the call of history, and vote yes for health insurance reform for America," ~ President Barack Obama

"It provides coverage for 96 percent of Americans. It offers everyone, regardless of health or income, the peace of mind that comes from knowing they will have access to affordable health care when they need it," said Rep. John Dingell, the 83-year-old Michigan lawmaker who has introduced national health insurance in every Congress since succeeding his father in 1955.

Now it's time for the Senate to step up & do the right thing. Call or email your senator Monday.

Yes. We. Can.

George is Dead

If you watch Grey's Anatomy, you understand the title reference...if not, I'll explain later.

It's been three months since my dad passed away. Life as I know it has returned to normal. It's a relief not to have my cell phone in my possession 100% of the time, or to have constant pressure to call or visit, or the constant dread of the unknown. Family gatherings will hopefully not be tension filled. Everyone can finally just chill.

It's odd when the person who has passed is someone in which you have a difficult relationship. The rules don't necessarily apply in this case. In a terrible-ish way, it’s such a relief. It as if someone is just slowly letting the pressure out of your life and you can finally breathe. It also resolves so many issues: what to do when the loved one is old/sick, how to deal with visits & calls, guilt over not being there for X, Y or Z, the disconnected relationships, the unresolved issues.

So, in a zippy little twist, Swistle's mother-in-law dies. Suddenly I have a buddy in the "Isn't this Weird?" Club.

Grief is different for every person. Every person has to experience it to understand because you just can't predict how you'll handle it. I think there’s been such a focus on grieving and feeling your feelings that we’re programmed to think we should be feeling a, then b, then c.

But I think it’s such an individual thing and I think until you’re In It, you can’t guess or plan how you’re going to feel. You just got to breathe your way through it.

Oh, that’s right. The George is Dead reference. This season's first episode of Greys is where George actually died. One of the last scenes of the episode shows Cristina lying down at the end of a long day and weeks after Georges death. Suddenly the realization dawns on her and she turns, saying incredulously: “George is dead.”

Yeah. That’s how it feels.

So here’s to the dear Swistle: *Quaff*

NoNaNoWriMo

While catching up with an old friend, he encouraged me to stay in touch regularly. "Because writers write." Thanks Paul.

The statement was equally encouraging and discouraging, as I haven't been writing as much as I'd like.

Why not, you ask?

Fall/Winter is here so Kevin is in the house much more than usual, which translates to the laptop being in use.

I still have my office but the furry teenager, that poses as our dog, seriously resents me being in her room. And it begs my favorite question "What're doing?" from Kevin. I usually reply "Baking a cake."

I'm feel like I'm in limbo until we go to Vegas. I'm having difficulty concentrating on much else once I get home. For instance, "I have to remember to stop the mail" or "I have to find the nearest grocery store to the hotel." And obsessing about the packing thing. Seriously, I should just start packing now and get it over with. But then I would be wearing clothing that the fashion police will cite me for wearing with sneakers. And I'm pretty sure I can't fit into my wedding dress anymore.

Not to mention the doggone shower adventure. Ugh. It looks like it will be about $400 to buy a new unit plus having the bathroom torn up for a weekend. Not bad in the grand scope of things, I realize but still a little traumatizing.

Tonight adds high wind gusts and pouring down rain. The lights have flickered so you'll know what happened if the blog ends like th

hahahahah. I make myself laugh if nothing else.

I was going to try NaNoWriMo this month. That's how Sunday Fiction first began but it's just not going to happen. Especially since it''s already the fifth of November now. And really, who am I kidding? I leave for a week in two weeks then the holiday. Unrealistic expectations much?

Also, I have lost THREE CHAPTERS of Sunday fiction. I know! I'm SO Frustrated. It's very much not like me so that ups the whole frustration factor to, like, a gabillion. I know it happens eventually to every writer but it doesn't make me any happier.

You may have noticed that I took the Sunday Fiction tab off the blog. When I re-write the lost chapters and get some more finished, I will return it to it's place of honor.

Three chapters...jeez....just when the main character discovered she was a vampire.

Ha ha. Kidding again.

These are a few of my favorite things...

So, I got nothing today but I'm posting every day so here you go.

This photograph is taken by a friend, whom I've never met. He's Paul Grant and he's a track photographer at Mission Raceway. He is originally from Britain, spent time in the states, and now lives in British Columbia.

I have talked to him via email & internet. We're sure we've seen each other, if not spoken, at the racetrack. My friend Mig said that I know who he is, in an incredulous tone that I sometimes hear in my life. I think it's a little funny that we don't know each other yet we're a fan of each others photography. Mine more than his, of course.

This was taken at Mission Raceway during sunset (duh, firegirl) and the home of the BEST doughnut holes I have ever eaten. So three of my favorite things, plus coffee. And cars. Whatever with the counting thing, I just love this picture.

Cracked or Broken

So, our fiberglass shower floor cracked. No, we weren't in there together, you silly people. It's a shower stall that when we were designing the bathroom, they referred to it as a "coffin shower". Probably not the best marketing tool ever. So two people in the shower is not going to happen.

The floor cracked, it's about a four inch crack. Upon further inspection, there was a smaller crack next to the drain. Nice. Perfect.

Kevin said that he thought he could fix it himself. He has limited experience with fiberglass, however he is super-diligent about keeping the house in good condition. "I'll send Dad over to take a look at it." he says.

"Um, does he have to right this very second?" I ask.

"Why?" he asked.

OF COURSE the shower needed to be scrubbed. Usually I wash it every other weekend but I was lazy and had skipped it. My pride wouldn't allow me to say "Sure, have your dad check it out."

So, bless him, Kevin told his dad that they would look at it over the weekend, giving me a chance to scrub it clean. Unfortunately, it would be cleaner if I could get into the doggone thing and really scrub it but I have to choose my battles.

Wow, I'm really off topic here.

WIKI-HOW explained how to fix the cracks in what I perceived as a mocking tone. "It's so EASY, just follow the steps." Fortunately, I don't believe everything I read on the internet.

It turned into the chicken or the egg debate. Why did it crack? If it was just regular wear & tear or an accident such as dropping something then the crack can be repaired. If it cracked due to deterioration or lack of support, the it has to be done professionally. If the floor needs repaired, then the whole shower piece has to come out and if you take the whole thing out then you might as well replace it versus repairing it. UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We decided to make sure it was a good idea to check into having it professionally repaired before dis-assembling the shower stall and doing it ourselves. Trying to find someone to fix the fiberglass is a challenge. What is it with people not returning phone calls?



Finally, we spoke to a contractor who is located an hour away. Their bid was $200 to look at it and possibly repair it. But most likely, it was going to be closer to $800. Yeah. No. I'd rather just use the common folk bathroom forever.

Kevin phoned someone else then phoned someone else. Three days later we finally got a return phone call. "Sure, I can. How about Tuesday?"
"How much, do you think?" Kevin asked.
"Oh, I'm between jobs now so it will be....*dramatic pause*...$200."

Not great, right before a trip, but not unattainable.

This morning I scrubbed the bathroom, removed the rugs, and made sure the house was spiffy in happy anticipation of his arrival.

I went to work & promptly forgot about the shower. About an hour later, Kevin phoned. "Yeah, he can't do it."

Ah sh*t.

The whole thing needs replacing. We're looking at $800 - $1,000 if we have the contractor do it.

Back to square one. We have to find the exact same shower stall to replace it so we're not stuck with major renovations in a four-year-old house. Warranty, you ask? Yeah, missed it by about six months.

Guess we're not using the master bath for awhile. Could be worse, it could be the old house that had only one bathroom. But it's still a bummer.

Short and Fickle

Fall in Washington State is short & fickle, kind of like me. One month ago it was sunny & beautiful, a late summer-ish day. Today, I drove home in the dark & rain. I can usually walk to the mailbox every night after work but not so much now. Three days ago I did and was caught in a gnarly downpour.

Fall visits for only a moment here. Just when we notice how beautiful fall can be, here comes the wind and rain.We had a windstorm a few days ago so any of the beautiful fall colors you see in these photographs is pretty much gone now.



However, I shouldn't complain much. My friends in Dawson Creek, Canada have had snow for about one month now.

17 Days

We leave for Vegas in 17 days. So of course, insomnia has kicked in. Lovely.

Last night, I was fixated on packing. Yes, I know, it's SEVENTEEN days. I have time.

Here's the problem:

Our suitcases actually leave three days earlier than our flight. My father-in-law & nephew are taking my brother-in-law's racecar down to Vegas so we're sending out suitcases ahead of time to avoid checking luggage.

Now, do the math with me and point out any errors I may be making:

I need five and one half days of clothing in Vegas: Wednesday we travel - arriving in Vegas at 9 am, we're in Vegas Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and leave mid-day Monday.
Our luggage leaves Monday morning ahead of us and returns Wednesday, two days after us.

I have three pairs of jeans that fit because I'm still shrinking. That leaves a few pairs of cords which I'm thinking is going to be a poor choice for Vegas. (:-D Black slacks, ditto. I've already decided that Wednesday & Monday (travel days) I'm going to wear khaki dockers. I guess I'll have to buy at least one more pair of Levi's. Because spending money before a vacation & the holidays = fun. (I couldn't plan ahead because I've lost two sizes)

And I need new sneakers. There is so much walking at the track, let alone in Vegas that new shoes are a requirement. (and what more clearly says "Hello, I'm a tourist! than new sneakers?)

And I need new socks. I need these just without traveling. And underwear...

Then let's think about cosmetics and toiletries. I have to double-up everything. Makeup, hair products, curling iron, etc, etc. Hello Target, don't let me down.

Then we have Kevin. He already has new sneakers but I think he needs one more pair of Levi's too. (the planning ahead thing applies here though) Luckily, he has eleventy hundred t-shirts so that's not a problem. Socks & underwear = yes, of course. I guess Target will remind me of what he also needs.

If we had credit cards, I would so find the nearest Target in Vegas & just buy all new stuff. But then this is a good example as to why we don't have credit cards.

Happy Halloween Meme

Stolen from Bea who stole it from ....


Which urban legend scared you as a kid?
Alligators in the sewers

Which horror movie had the best premise?
Scream, probably.

What is the most disappointing "treat" you've ever received on Halloween?
Apples. there was a lady when I was child that gave them out. I didn't like it but felt bad if we skipped her house.

What's the best non-candy treat to receive?
Anything non-candy is just not cool.

Did a monster live in your closet when you were a kid?
I don't remember, I don't think so.

Which supernatural creature sent chills up your spine when you were ten and still does?
Poltergeist.

What supernatural creature makes you yawn?
Not sure...the Stay Puft man on Ghostbusters?

What's your favorite Halloween decoration?
see pics above & below!

(these are bobble-heads!)

If you could be anywhere on Halloween Night, where would you be?
At a house in town where lots of kids stop by. We live so far out, no one ever stops by.

What's the scariest book you've read so far this year?
I just started The Blood Brothers series by Nora Roberts and it's freaking me out a little.

Haunted Houses or Haunted Hayrides?
Haunted Houses

Which Steven King novel would you least want to find yourself trapped in?
Cujo. Believe it or not, I'm a little scared of big dogs.

Which is creepiest? Evil dolls, evil kids or evil pets?
Evil Dolls...Chuckie! Harlequin dolls. Need I say more?

Happy Halloween Everyone!

What is in a Name

I mostly use pseudonyms, nicknames, or initials on the blog. The only person I don't use one for is my ex-husband, Michael. Because I won't lie for that @#@#&(*%# ever.

Kevin is my husbands middle name. I love his first name. It suits him perfectly. It's fun to say, it's fun to write. It's just perfect for him. It's not common but not unusual. (this will be funny to only those who know him but the literal meaning of his name is appropriate as well)

It was to my surprise the other day when he mentioned that he's has wished he had a different name. I know he never uses his legal name because he hates it. He goes by a derivative of his legal name and was teased when he was younger. At one time, he asked to be called Kevin but it just never stuck.

I rarely slip when I write his name here. In fact, I've found myself writing "Kev" so I'm using a nickname for a pseudonym now. Well done me.

My nephew is a Fourth. He's always had the baby version of his name. For example: Timothy John IV, or Tim, or Timmy. Timmy being the baby version.
He's 25 years old now. He's trying to rebuild his life after making some serious poor choices. He's asked to be known by the grownup version of his name. After knowing him for nineteen years, it's been an effort to remember. But I completely understand his reasoning. He's ready to be his own person.

I, too, am not wild about my name. (I saw that eyeroll, D, stop it) I would never go to the lengths to change it but I certainly don't enjoy it. To boot, people tend to forget it easily.

Perhaps it's most everyone that doesn't like their name?

Louder the Better

According to this post, I have Nerd Attention Deficit Disorder...

I'm at work and there is currently:
The radio playing
A co-worker chatting
Two tabs open on Firefox
My in-box open & correspondence going back & forth
A database open
Checks & receipts spread about on my desk.

Did I mention construction going on outside my window?

If I were home, the television would be on. If I'm working in my office, the stereo would be on also. Not to mention being able to hear Kevin singing and/or talking. (sometimes it's the same thing) And the dogs "guarding" the neighborhood.

I've found that the busier and louder it is, the happier my brain is. Give me a calm environment and it's nappy nap nigh night time. Or I will notice every little audible sound which drives me slowly to madness and I can't concentrate on anything.

No wonder I'm so happy at the racetrack!

Commentary

I love reading comments on my and friends blogs. I, however, suck at commenting. It's not that I don't have anything to say. If you ever met me in reals, I usually always have something to say.
It's usually sarcastic or random useless trivia but it's something.

I am sure that I overthink the process. I am a smart ass with a dry sense of humor. That can be difficult to convey when commenting. I rely on (:-D a lot.

Also, the way my brain is wired I'm like the chick in American Pie: "That reminds me, this one time in Band camp..." Because I have stories. Again, spend any time with me: I have stories. Like this one time...never mind. So I worry about hijacking comments.

Many of my friends blogs have parenting stories. Because I'm not a parent, I feel awkward commenting. However, all my years of working with children has given me some crazy knowledge. Need homeopathic lice remedies? I'm your girl. Need an opinion on family beds or crying it out? Sure! But bottom-line, I'm not a parent. It's like an unmarried marriage counselor in my perspective.

Sometimes I'll begin to comment and then worry about it sounding arrogant; filled with "I" statements. It's not all about me, as fun as that would be. So I hit back-space a lot.

Or being on the West coast, some of the blogs have a gabillion comments by the time I've read it. then I kick into Eeyore mode - it doesn't really matter anymore.

So. Yeah. Over-thinking it. I need to get over myself, seriously.

I will persevere though. I resolve to begin commenting. If it sounds awkward, just roll with me. If I ramble or am random, tell me to shush. If you're not sure what I mean: assume it's sarcasm.

Next Stop: Negative Town

I can rationalize that my mom is 72 years old and a widow. I can understand that her life hasn't been easy. These rationalizations, however, are little help when I'm stuck in the car with her.
Suddenly I am fifteen years old and just wanting to be anywhere but here.

I've had lots of Mom time recently. We took her out to dinner with Kevin's family the other night then I picked her up for my niece's first high school choir concert and then I took her to an appointment which required 45 minutes in the car. In one week.

Let me digress one minute: my mom is a very nice person. You just have to have thick skin because she doesn't mince words. There is rarely a doubt as to how she's feeling.

Here's the best example from the doctor appointment adventure:

We were on our way home and my patience was waning. I am trying to think of anything to talk about.

"Oh, there's the casino that James girlfriend works at. We've eaten there. It's not bad."

Should be safe, yes? Mentioned her nephew-in-law, restaurant, time spent with Kevin.

"Oh, Dad and I went there before he went downhill."

ah f&ck.

"I found all kinds of gambling membership cards for the casinos after he died. He liked to gamble."

*awesome*

"One time...this was when I was pregnant with your brother ((fifty years ago - I'm not kidding)) your dad bought into a football pool and put both of our names on it. Turns out I won. He gave me $40. So I bought a winter coat. Do you think he ever let it go? No, he even told our friends "I never saw any of that money." Finally, I won money at pulltabs and gave it to him and said "We're even."

e.x.h.a.u.s.t.i.n.g.

"But we had good times too, he could be fun..."

The Ex-Wife Chronicles

After three days of discussing what to do about Kevin's ex-wife's friend request on Facebook, I finally messaged her via her request and said: "Thanks for the request but I don't think it's a good idea."

Her response:

"ok it is up to you, but i meant nothing by the request and i had no altreary motives, but if it makes you uncomfortable that is ok. take care.."

I'll give you all a minute to let that sink in...

Kevin said "It's nice that she gave you permission..."

BFF D and my S-i-l has had a running joke about "altreary".

Kevin mentioned last night that he was surprised that he hasn't received a follow-up message personally or something along those lines. I think it could still happen. I can't imagine her letting it pass without further comment. Something along the lines of "I didn't mean to offend her..."

Like I mentioned before, we've decided that we're not going to pursue this further. There will be no emailing of pictures or sending her the leftovers of their marriage. Clearly nothing good can come from it.

We went from allowing her to friend Kevin on FB, to allowing her to call Kevin (once) to allow for closure for Kevin, to posting pictures of Kevin's old cars for his FRIENDS to see and she making it about her, to a request for old pictures and ending with a friend request for me.

See where I'm going with this? Each item individually is little but each is a little step further toward crazy stalker behavior. Too boot, it is inconceivable that she would think that it would be appropriate to ask in the first place. So, what's stopping her from going further?

Kevin said that one more contact and he's pulling the plug on the whole damn thing. He gave her a chance to make things right but so far has created more melodrama than closure.

But it sure has given all of us something to talk about!

My Wife Lost Her Shirt

Every night Kevin gets ready for bed before me. Bedtime is where OCD gets the best of me and Kevin, bless his heart, just lets me be. So often, he's in bed a good ten minutes before I am.

I always put my t-shirt on my side of the bed so that I don't wake him when I try to get it out of the drawer of the bureau that's probably older than I am.

The other night my t-shirt wasn't there. I accused Kevin of stealing it, not realizing he was asleep. He said he didn't but I didn't believe him. Taking advantage of the situation, I went to bed without it and all that it implies.

Later, I told Kevin that he was falsely accused. My bad.

We overslept the next morning and Kevin was late to work. He told Yo, his buddy at work
"I'm late because my wife lost her shirt."

It's Me

It's me that he reaches for in his sleep. It's me that held his hand when he was sick. It's me that makes sure he has new Levis and sneakers. It's me that helped his parents downsize & move. It's me that makes sure he has grapes in his lunch every single day.

It was you that cheated, stole, and disappeared.

It was me that helped glue together the pieces of everything you destroyed. It's me who stays when he's sick. It's me that cheers for him when he does well. It's me that he calls when he's having a bad day. It's me that works to help his dreams become reality.

It was you that bailed when it got difficult and not fun.

It was me that built a home out of what you left behind. It was me that boxed up your stuff. It was me that put back together the man you tore apart. It was me that had to ride it out when you were the one he was really upset with. It was me that taught him that you loved him the only way you knew how.

It was me. Not you.

It's me that gets the joy of being his wife. It's me that gets flowers every birthday & anniversary. It's me that he takes on dates after nineteen years. It's me that he wakes up every morning with a backrub. It's me that he looks for in a crowd. It's me that he sings to.

It's me that wears his ring and carries his name. Not you.

Okay, let's take a poll

This morning the great & wonderful Facebook gave me the following quandary:

Kevin's ex-wife has friended me on Facebook.

Oh, yes. Yes, she did.

My initial response was "You. Have. Got. To. Be. KIDDING. Me" followed by maniacal laughter.

BFF K responded with "Ahahahahahahahahhaha" as did BFF D.

Kevin said "What does she WANT?" with a chorus of "Oh My God" thrown in for good measure.

Kevin's mom wonders what she's up to. While she loved his ex-wife, she knows that she's not a good person. (for those of you just joining us: she cheated on Kevin AND screwed him over financially - leaving him thousands of dollars in debt)

I really don't care. I agree with BFF K, that she wants access to more pictures. This makes it tempting for me to approve her request. "Sure, look at how HAPPY we are and how much you F*&ked up. Enjoy!"

But I am a little suspicious.

Then, I looked at it another way...what if it were Michael that requested. Well, that doesn't work because there is a Permanent Restraining Order. But if there wasn't, what would I do? The answer would be Hell.to.the.NO. You walked away, buster. You chose not to have access to my life. Sucks to be YOU.

But the snotty teenager in me wants her to see how great Kevin's life is.

Polls are open, what do you think we should do? Friend or Not to Friend. That is the question.

Food Fail - Kevin Edition

Kevin's been having such a tough time lately, working 6-12's, leaving in the dark & getting home in the dark, working all day in the rain, race season is over and then Dingbat's picture request. His life has been sucking.

So, I've been spoiling him big...yes, that way too but I mean by making his favorite dinners.

Unfortunately, it includes Car Crash.

Ugh, car crash. The bane of my wifely-existence.

It's essentially poor-man's Shepherds Pie. And every man's dream.

Hamburger
Tater tots
Corn
Cream of Mushroom Soup
Cheese
Baked into a gooey mass and add ketchup.
(and an angioplasty)

This Odd Request Made Possible by Facebook

I posted some pictures of Kevin's old cars for his friends to see on his facebook page. The years ranged from his first car to the car we have now. Of course, this also included cars from the time that he was previously married. A few days later we received the following:


Hi Kevin & Firegirl,
Thanks for putting up those pictures, I loved them. I don't have any old pictures because everything was stolen about 9yrs ago. Only ones I have relatives have given me. Do you by any chance have any of my Challenger? If you do please post them or send them to me. Actually any old pictures you might have of back in the day would you please send me copies? I know it is alot to ask and I know you guys are very busy, but if it is ok with firegirl and you guys get a chance I would really appreciate it. Have a great day. Dingbat

A few points:
We posted the pictures upon our Car Friends requests, not yours...you self-absorbed...never mind.
"everything was stolen about nine years ago". Translation: "I left everything behind nineTEEN years ago."
"I know it is alot to ask" (trying to ignore a grammatical error that irritates me) Um, yeah. A LOT to ask.
Dingbat is the nickname Kevin called her back-in-the-day, before being replaced by a less-affectionate name.

So...it's not like we have pictures of her hanging around. Those were banished by Kevin before I ever arrived on the scene. However, we do have a small box of pictures & momentos that I stashed away in case Kevin ever wanted them. At the time, he said something along the lines of "Don't keep those. Burn them in the yard." But I kept them without his knowledge just in case someday in the future he was feeling nostalgic.

My first response was two-fold. The first being "Really?" and the second being just the tiniest bit of sympathy. For all intents and purposes, she is now in her mid-forties and has seemingly realized just how badly she messed up her life.

This puts me in a weird place. Kevin would never, ever, ever, ever ask me to do this. In fact, there was a little bit of a meltdown that night after he read her message. He is rarely upset, very rarely has his feelings hurt. He was both that night. "She CHOSE to leave all those pictures behind because she DIDN'T WANT to be here anymore" was the main theme.

Later he relented and said to send pictures if *I* wanted to but to not go out of my way to do it. While he didn't say it outright, he doesn't want to see the pictures.

I've mulled it over the past few days and decided that I will email a handful of pictures. I will make it clear that it was ME that was doing this and that Kevin had nothing to do with the keeping of the pictures or held any interest in them. The only thing that I haven't decided is how to state "Don't ask again, for anything. Ever." without sounding like a jealous fishwife.

She has my cell phone number

I will begin this story the same way I told it to Kevin & D:

You will Never Guess who I talked to the other day...

Go ahead: guess.

No, not my dead dad. Try again.

Rosie O'Donnell.

Yes. I did. I DID!

She has a website: Rosie.com and has a "Ask Ro" section where you can post questions & comments. She answers some of them and it's pretty interesting. She also has a "Say What" section where she asks questions & you can answer in 200 characters.

It's pretty interactive, is my point. Especially for a celebrity.

Anyway, she asked about the Oprah interviews with Whitney & Mike Tyson. I posted comments and thought nothing further about it.

I use a HotMail account for this blog and facebook. I check it about every other day. I checked it on a whim Thursday and cleaned it out. I saw an email from RBlog in my spam filter. I clicked on it and it said:

Hi,

I was wondering if you would be available to talk about your experience watching Tyson on Oprah. We would like to cover the topic on tomorrow's test show (which won't be aired). Would you have time to talk to me today? If so please send me a number I can call you at.

Thanks,

Pete
KidRo Productions
Rosie.com

So, I sent my cell phone number with a great amount of skepticism. Within 20 minutes, my phone rang. Oh. My. God.

There was Pete, with voices in the background. They were in the studio right that second. He asked about my post and typed my responses. He asked where I lived and turns out he lived in Bellingham for a while. Small world. He asked if I would be available to the phone the next morning from 10-12 EST. I did the time zone math, but I don't really know why because Hell.to.the.Yes I was available.

We hung up and I did a little happy dance. But I still was pretty skeptical that anything would happen. I mean, really, what are the odds that I would get a call from Rosie O'Donnell?

The next morning after Kevin left for work (6:00 am - ugh) I took a shower & got ready for work like it was a normal day. A little after 7:00 am, my phone rang and there was my new best friend Pete.

He explained how it would work, I would be able to hear Rosie's doing the radio show, then they would tell me it was my turn then she would come onto the phone.

Now, I am usually a fairly calm individual. It takes a lot to shake me. A lot. Blowing up, rolling a truck, you know A lot. I don't mind admitting that my hands were shaking a bit.

The phone clicked and there was her voice. She was talking about the Tyson interview then sequed into a musing of doing a "What Oprah has Done to My Life" segment on future shows, and she didn't mean in a good way. Someone commented in the background negatively and Rosie said "Oprah is like Don Coreleone in the Godfather. Bad things happen to people who cross her. " I broke out laughing.

My friend Pete came back onto the line about 45 minutes later and said I was next. "And please, don't do the 'I'm such a big fan' thing." Oh no, I told him, I'm so not that chick. He laughed.

Then *click* and there she was Rosie O'Donnell. On. My. Phone.

Oh. My. Gahhhhhhhhhhh

She asked where I was from. After I answered, she said "I filmed two movies there. Is it raining?"

"Of course it is" I answered.

"It rained the entire time I was there, both times and while it's beautiful because of the rain, I could never live there."

I laughed, "We hear that a lot."

We talked about a different topic than originally discussed, the topic of Janney the 7-year-old schizophrenic that Oprah had on her show. I totally call bullshit that she's schizophrenic and that I don't believe the parents aren't above-board. She agreed. Rosie did a Google search and found that the parents have a website soliciting donations. (Ugh, horrifying.)

How fun that we totally agreed.

Then she said goodbye and we were all done.

It was a crazy-cool-weird experience that I still can't quite believe happened.

I called Kevin first. He was cracking up and telling his co-workers.

Then I called D. When she answered, I said "I know it's early and I would never call early unless it was BIG, right?"

Twenty Years Ago

For years, Labor Day weekend found a huge group of friends camping way, way, way out in the woods. I went with Mike one year as sort of a last ditch attempt at trying to be married. Little did I know that Kevin was attempting the same impossible feat at the time.

While I wasn't immediately *attracted* to Kevin, I couldn't help but notice him. Our friends refer to him as the Yeller. He's often the loudest one in the room, the heart of a party. This camping trip was no different. At first, I thought "Who the hell is this guy?" but by the end of the weekend, I liked him. No vibes or surreptitious glances. Neither of us were there yet, but I was aware of him for sure.

So it wasn't entirely unpleasant when I saw him again about six months later. We were both single and suddenly, we connected. Much to our mutual surprise.

This weekend was the 19th anniversary of our first date. Our first date was actually a car show with the car that is now our racecar. And guess where we were? At the racetrack.

Instead of Love making the world go around...Wheels make our love go around...

Pacific Raceway...this weekend...about to go 148 mph

D'oh

Woke up in the middle of the night and realized I didn't post yesterday. Well done Me.

I'll post tonight, fo sho.

In the meanwhile, I'm on Twitter as firegirl03 if you want to come play. I don't twitter much so don't set your expectations too high.

Take a Breath

If you're a long-time reader, you are aware that I support Barack Obama. I am so not Republican in any way. Not to say that I'm a Democrat either. If it were a perfect world, we would revert to George Washington's idea of Congress: no political parties.

Two things have frustrated me lately:

((Oh, this is going to be one of my rare political rants...they don't happen often. I'm not here to argue with anyone))

The Nobel Peace Prize. There was a survey on Facebook asking if it was deserved. Because my high-school friends skew Republican, the survey was not in Obamas favor. I disagree.
He won it based on two speeches and pre-election actions. NOT on what he has done since in office.

From CNN: The committee said it honored Obama for his "extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples." The Nobel committee recognized Obama's efforts at dialogue to solve complex global problems, including working toward a world free of nuclear weapons.

"Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world's attention and given its people hope for a better future," the committee said.

Obama said he viewed the decision less as a recognition of his own accomplishments and more as "a call to action."

Long before he was elected President, he took the US on a Goodwill Tour after the US was vilified WORLD WIDE. Americans have been lying while traveling abroad, stating they are Canadian. Not any longer. The prize was awarded based on that and nothing else. He changed the attitude & status of Americans. After eight years of the silent treatment, he gave the world the opportunity to talk to us again.

Frustrating Thing #2:
Read this with a whine "But he's not doing anything..."
He. Has. Been. In. Office. Nine. Months.
He inherited the country at it's worst. Worst than during both World Wars, worse than perhaps even the Civil War. (based on opinion of people smarter than I) There was simply not one single thing that wasn't broken over the last eight years.

Give him a minute. It's so frustrating that Americans expect fast fixes to everything. Twice I have heard "Well, the past administration ram-rodded their agenda, why can't he?" Well, they did it ILLEGALLY and everyone was PISSED off. Just because we like the guy now doesn't make it right for him to do the same thing.

With any relationship, you can't give it a matter of months and then call it off without seeking help. The American people do have a relationship with the President. I think that has been forgotten because the past administration erased that from our consciousness.

He's available on Twitter, on Facebook, on MySpace. He has an email, a telephone number and an address. Have you been to the White House website? It's totally cool now. He wants our opinions and our help. As he has said all along, it is up to us.

Not to say that I give the President a free pass. I think he has an endgame plan. I see changes coming after the first year. If, and only if, after that things aren't changing, then I will rethink my support. But not in the first nine months. It takes a baby nine months to form and even then it's still helpless upon birth. Our country was brought down to it's base level and needs to be rebuilt. It's not going to happen quickly.

In the meanwhile. Take a Breath.

Horders

Oprah had a show on hoarding. Well, actually she had a show about A&E's show Horders.

These shows terrify me. I'm compelled to go clean a closet or something. I'm not even a little bit at risk for hoarding but these shows scare me more than a horror flick.

My messiest place is my office. And most people would actually GUFFAW if they heard me say that & actually saw it. I have Monica's Closet and a few disorganized files but it's enough. It bothers me.

When we closed the Moody House with the parents, it was challenging. My m-i-l is a shopper. Her favorite channels are the shopping channels. She loves to browse second hand shops...she would go weekly if she could...and Christmas is just her heaven.

She had a room that she called the pantry. She had soups from 1991 (this was 2007) and who knew that water expired? She brought up ten boxes of canned/boxed goods when they moved up here with us....this is not counting what was in the cupboards where they stayed.
She was also a collector of dolls and that was a challenge. I have a few of them and so does everyone else in the family. But to her credit, this was also an accumulation of 25 years in one house.

Then let's travel a little further next door. My s-i-l is a terrible housekeeper. The kitchen counters are rarely visible. The dining room table almost always have laundry on it. (someone please explain that to me. The master bedroom is between the laundry room & dining room table.) There's always clutter and you're never really allowed in her office.

We don't use the bathrooms unless we really have to. We don't sit on the floor. It's not gross but it's definitely unclean.

As I watch these shows, I see glimpses of my b & s-i-l and it's scary. The show just featured a family that ate on the bed because it was the only available space. I can totally see that happen next door a la the grandparents in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Family.

I'm afraid that once the parents pass away, we might be on high alert for hoarding next door. It scares me terribly. I hope that I'm wrong but I have an eerie feeling that I'm not.

Today is Your Birthday

The other day was the birthday of a former boyfriend. The date always sticks in my head. I'm not super-fabulous with dates so it's always a little odd milestone.

It's been twenty years since we dated. He was the transition guy between Michael the Psycho and Kevin. Poor guy. It was the classic soap opera-esque series of mistakes and miscommunications. The cake topper being hearing "You know he bought a ring, didn't you?"

blargh.

A part of me is a little relieved because he has four kids, including twins & the eldest son had a brain tumor. That could have been Me. I can't even imagine. Or conversely, look what I missed: four children versus none.

It's all good now. We've reconnected over the years. (OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG!! = the first time) We each have come to the conclusion that we probably wouldn't have made it in the long run. It was a remarkable relief to resolve that unfinished business.


Happy Birthday SP!!

Two of the Funniest Things Said

in the last seven days. One G rated and one R rated...

G-Rated:

My mother-in-law was just prescribed a CPAP machine for sleep apnea. They picked it up today and were telling Kevin about it. Kevin commented that it wasn't doing any good sitting in the box next to her chair.

"Well, we have to get stuff for it then we'll set it up" she says.
"Yeah, it needs Holy Water" my father-in-law says.

He was sincere. He meant distilled water, bless his heart.
If it were MY Dad, he would have meant Holy Water.

R-rated:

Last weekend we were racing. We stopped at Starbucks to get iced mochas (aka: the will to live)

Kevin jumps up into the truck with both mochas. He hands me one and says:

"I had them put one less pump in yours. Because I know you like that."

DUDE! Really?

My sister-in-law was in the backseat and missed it completely. I was laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my face.

Welcome to my life....