Bitch Please! I’m A Rescue

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Landon. 2.5 year old Maltese/Yorkie mix.

It’s a BOY!  I’m just stopping by to make a HUGE announcement about a new addition to our family. I’m still trying to figure out why we decided to expand our family, especially since our kids are just about out the door and freedom is at our fingertips, but here we are the proud parents of … Drum Roll Please …..Landon. Isn’t he just the cutest? …. after Peanut of course.

We rescued Landon from the Dutch Country Animal Rescue.  This wonderful organization saved this little guy from some hell hole in Missouri. It’s unthinkable to know that this sweet boy spent 2 of his 2.5 years on this earth in a crate. He came with some issues, so he fits right into this house.  This is not an “issue free” zone.

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Peanut & Landon chillin.

Peanut has been the center of attention around here for 2 years, so my daughter, who knows ALL about being the center of attention for 2 years before her world came to an erupt end at the birth of her brother, has volunteered to advocate on Peanut’s behalf. Looks like she is already using those Psych & Sociology classes to do some good … or … evil. 

Peanut has welcomed Landon with open paws. He has dragged out every toy we ever purchased to make sure Landon understands,“These are ALL mine and NO it doesn’t matter that I haven’t touched them in over a year they are MINE. Landon did not seem fazed by this episode of toy hoarding in the least. He gave his best ” Bitch please I’m a rescue” face and moved on.

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Landon with me. Peanut with Greg.

We are all adjusting our schedules to make Landon’s transition into our family a happy one. Tomorrow will mark week one for Landon in our home and he is doing well eating, walking and pooping without incident. Yippee!

According to my daughter’s faceless smile and palm emoji, I may have crossed the line purchasing matching sweaters for these furry boys, while my son was just glad they weren’t for him and his sister. Hehehe!

Landon is filling our hearts including Peanut’s with love every day and we are glad he is here to Enjoy the Ride!

 

Say What? Judy

Homes_5_Construction_1914_rowhouses_BaltimoreMd_photoIn honor of Labor Day I thought I’d share a little something from my first real job out in this big bad world. It was the United States Bankruptcy Court  for the Eastern District of PA.  FYI: I didn’t even know what a Bankruptcy was at this point.

I was fresh out of serving my sentence at an all girls catholic high school. At the tender age of 18 I was officially thrown to the wolves. I was literally out of school 4 days so the wolves were sympathetic. 

Needless to say my worldly experiences up until this point were void. I grew up in a cookie cutter section of the city. Attended school with a group of girls who were also raised in this environment and my exposure to  urban life was slim. Until it was slammed in my face all in one day.  Like lambs to the slaughter, my ass.

I’ll admit going into this job could easily be compared to a lamb being led to the slaughter, but I survived. My boss was a wonderful mentor and the co-workers … well … they were certainly an eclectic crew. Some I’m still friends with, others just provide flashbacks of shock & awe. 

Since this was a Government job they didn’t always hire the sharpest tools in the shed. Let’s just say there were the brains and the who the hell knows whats, but somehow it was a good balance. This is where Judy comes in …

Judy, which is her real name … sort of. You see, Judy was born in India so I’m not sure if her parents were huge Wizard of Oz fans or she just Americanized herself upon arrival. It really didn’t matter to me Judy was easy to pronounce. 

At the time Judy came on board I had a good two years under my belt. At 20 I was already a seasoned employee. Judy was a nice middle-aged woman assigned to the desk behind mine. She would be working with me to send out mass mailings to creditors. Easy enough. 

did-you-get-the-memo_zps35306e14I knew the proper etiquette when it came to new employees. You introduce yourself, make some small talk about marital statuses, kids and education before going silent. Idol chit chat … no more.

It was clear early on that Judy did not receive the memo on this procedure when she summoned me to turn around, because she wanted to tell me something. I had an odd feeling that I was about to hear more than I needed to know when she kept insisting that I roll my chair closer. Baaaa Baaaa …. off I went.

In her broken English she introduced herself with this opening:

Judy:  “I once had frostbite on my feet.”

Me:  “Oh”  Translation: WTF is frostbite? A shoe designer?

Judy:  “My toes can fall off at any time.”

Me:  ……………………. Translation: Wait … What!?

Judy:  “I could just be sitting here and loose a toe.”

Me:  ……………………. Translation:  Umm, I don’t pick up loose toes!

Needless to say I spent the rest of the day staring into space patiently waiting for a toe or two to roll on by. Once the initial shock wore off I thought that maybe I didn’t understand her correctly through her broken English, so I went back to the slaughter-house for round two.  Probably not one of my better decisions. 

Honestly, at 20 years old this information could barely be processed. I was not schooled on the health hazards of frostbite. For god sakes I was too busy preparing to marry Mr. Wrong!

Me:  “Excuse me did you say your toes could just fall off?”

Judy:  “Yes”

Me:  “Oh …. like …. when?”

Judy:  “It can happen any time.”

Me:  …………………..

Obviously this occurred before the hype of suing anyone who dared to infringe on your personal space, especially with their loose ab62f88d629358583e4b988139509f8etoes, otherwise I would be writing this from my beach front home. Stark & Stark missed the boat on this case!

I just continued being a good citizen by going to work with the added unpaid duty of checking my workspace for random toes. No piggy that went to the market … good. All clear on the piggy that stayed home … check. The dynamic duo one with roast beef the other with none … nowhere in sight. That little rascal that went wee, wee, wee …. back at home. 

It really is ironic that I now work for a Podiatrist and Judy is not a patient … with or without her toes.

Enjoy the Ride! 

Say What? Mildred

Basset with ears upI am going to try my hand at something new with my blog. I thought of this incredibly brilliant idea at this very moment, therefore the logistics haven’t been worked out, other than the title … “Say What?  I will try my best to compile a group of essays based on information my ears have had to endure over the years. Interesting to say the least!

This idea came to life because lately I’ve wondered if I missed my calling to become a priest, lawyer or therapist. Since complete strangers seem to seek out my ears for free and fill them with all sorts of personal information. Honestly, I don’t know how the professionals do it … I would explode from listening.

Years ago I thought this happened to everyone out in the world, but my assessment was waaaaaaaay off! What I have discovered is that most people don’t stay in the company of crazy long enough to partake in the festivities. So why do I?  Probably because I bore easily and find it somewhat entertaining.

Let me begin by telling you about Mildred (not her real name) who was a longtime patient at the Gynecologist office that I worked at years b5f9c71f10ed15fe4277eb49cfb2129bago. Mildred was a lovely woman, although trapped in the 70’s with her choice of clothing, hairdo, pancake-like makeup and logic when it came down to her vajay-jay. She was from the “I only take it out for baby making and special occasions” era. 

Poor Mildred was constantly coming in for an itching issue down in the nether regions. I am NOT a doctor for many reasons, but the number one reason would be crystal clear in this case. One look at her and I would be blurting “Mildred! For god sakes let that kitty loose!”  This expert advice would trump a prescription for some sort of anti-itching cream in my practice.

Any who … when she came in for this particular follow-up appointment she decided to lean in close to tell me the horror she endured when she returned home from her last visit. I never said a word, she just poured out her soul to my wide open ears.

Apparently Mildred decided to finally let her kitty cat out of its cage that consisted of several layers of synthetic garments such as the following: underwear, a girdle, pantyhose and slacks. Then she laid on her bed naked with the ceiling fan on high … to you know …  “air things out.” Mildred thought that perhaps this would help with the itching. Just imagine a set a wide eyes right about now. 

64c5f121ea0a17f8189bf27ffb21bb97Needless to say this was a shock to her husband, because he made the H U G E mistake of asking “are you waiting for me?” when he entered the room. Poor guy didn’t have a clue that there were reasons, other than his needs, that would cause her to lay on the bed naked with her legs spread eagle. 

Mildred went on to explain that she “couldn’t believe” her husband would think she wanted sex in the afternoon. Afternoon? I couldn’t believe he wanted any part of what must resemble a slab of raw meat at this point. 

This woman just keep going … letting me know that her ceiling fan extravaganza is now part of her daily routine, with one small change that she revealed in a low whisper … I lock the door. 

My hope is that Mildred is going commando under a skirt these days, but something tells me that is not the case and sadly the only thing her husband is mounting is a new ceiling fan.

Enjoy the Ride! 

 

Doubt or Do It’s Up To You

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G.I. Joe? Chuck Norris? or Jesus?

If you’ve been reading me for some time, you already know I admit to being the Mayor of Scardy Cat Town. I’m not embarrassed by this at all, it’s who I am. Lord knows I have entertained many with my fearful experiences.

Over the weekend, as I was casually walking my little lamb chop a/k/a my dog Peanut, I noticed this fucker creeping from under the bushes. Seriously! I’m not even sure what my reaction was other than a slew of obscenities with a side of what might be considered some sort of prayer. That is if repeatedly yelling “Jesus Christ!” “Jesus!” “For good sakes!” and “Holy shit!” are considered prayers.

Random mannequin heads lurking under bushes are just one kind of fear we have to deal with in our lives. These fears are sudden and usually provide a good bit of laughter in the end. Especially when you patiently wait for the next person to walk by.

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Sing off key and live!

Then there are those fears that get to us via the media. They just love to plant those hearty doom and gloom seeds in our heads about planes that have plummeted into the ocean or just vanish or engulf into flames or ALL OF THE ABOVE! As if my own imaginary scenarios aren’t enough to keep me grounded!   

I won’t even tread into the murky waters of the World News, that shit is just too real. Information overload can consume even the strongest of minds. Thank goodness we control the “off” switch is all I can say. 

Last, but certainly not least are those fears that run deep. Those lovely little gems from our childhood or traumatic events that we just love to keep close. No, not the boogieman or clowns.

b183397faab0430ea8b56cde8efa4576I’m talking about those haunting fears of not being good enough, rejection, failure and the rest of the negative posse. We tend to keep these close like some sort of security blanket, just in case we need another excuse to move forward or perhaps when we need to point some blame in a direction other than the mirror. Safe, easy and paralyzing.

Why the hell are there so many fears in the first place? Well, I can answer that in one word … DOUBT. You know the sudden loud voice in your head that asks all sorts of negative questions just before you are about to embark on something wonderful. Guess what people? Doubt is an asshole! 

At 50 years young I am finally realizing just how much of an asshole Doubt can really be. It a2ec50f46abbf671c202b28284008b5889470a9998aa958f53939935a6502bfbshows up at the worst time; stays way too long and seems to ruin everything in its path. Just think of a drunk party goer who won’t take the hint that the party is over … yep that’s what Doubt is like. 

It has stopped me in my tracks, whispered “what ifs”  in my ear and managed to make mountains out of too many molehills. I’m not solving world peace for god sakes!

I vaguely remember my childhood aspirations to be a teacher, a judge, or a rodeo bull rider. I know a judge of all things right? What happened to those dreams along my road to adulthood? Doubt is what happened! You’re not smart enough. You’re not decisive enough. You’re not good enough.

Of course I could drive myself crazy wondering what my life would be like living on a ranch with the Marlboro Man or blaming my parents for not recognizing my passion for the Rodeo segments of the Wide World of Sports, but what would that solve? Zip.  

21919a5445b98e7745a02d887721b241.jpgInstead, I have chosen to little by little muster up the courage to punch fear in the face and bitch slap doubt every time they start talking shit about my fabulousness. It’s not really that easy, but it felt good writing it.

It takes time to put our fears in their place. Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither were you so have some patience.

 It’s up to you to get in the driver’s seat. 

When you do decide to head down your road to happiness, make sure you buckle up right next to fear. Look back at all your accomplishments. Pick up some positive reinforcements on the way. Let the accomplishments of others blow through your hair and don’t stop until you reach your destination … the corner of Awesome & Bombdiggity sounds like a good start. 

 Enjoy the Ride!

A Ride to Remember

51woxOQWgQLAs I was driving into work one morning, listening to one of my many favorite morning radio shows “The Preston & Steve Show” on 93.3 WMMR here in Philly. I say “many” because I am beyond a channel changer while driving. But this show certainly has a way of making my ride a little brighter as I head to the salt mines office every day.

This particular morning there was a discussion on a new book titled “Carsick” by John Waters. It’s a wonderful entertaining story about John’s decision to hitchhike across the country. As the DJ’s were discussing excerpts from the book, listeners were calling in to tell their personal stories about a time when they had no other choice but to hitch a ride. I found this all very intriguing.

Lucky for me John was making his rounds promoting his tale and I was able to catch an interview with him on the Bill Maher Show. I ordered the audio version right smack in the middle of the interview!

I must say I have never listened to a book before, because I am a traditional girl who enjoys her books written on paper, but since I have a 30-40 minute ride to the gym every day, I thought this would be a good way to pass the time and avoid my OCD channel changing … Mission accomplished John! 

And so the adventure begins….

And so the adventure begins….

Many of you may already know that the then 66 year-old Baltimore film director John Waters decided to hitchhike from his home in Baltimore Maryland to his home in San Francisco. Crazy or living life? 

Just the idea of such a journey in 2014, when the world seems so humanly disconnected, had me completely fascinated. I’m not sure why since I never had a wish to hitchhike … especially since most hitchhikers are usually portrayed as serial murders and frankly I’m a scardy cat. However, John did point out that most serial killers are looking for 20-year-old hookers and that did make me feel much safer.

The excitement as I put the first CD into the player was admittedly a tad over the top, but who cares … I just wanted to hear all the details of this journey … one CD at a time.

After listening to at least 2 CD’s I started to think …. “why haven’t I heard about any of this on the news?” 

Well, the answer to that million dollar question was found when I decided to read up on the details of the book. Something I usually do before I hit the “Add to cart” button. This is where I learned I that the first half of the book was John’s fictional version of his trip. Let me just say If anyone has some swamp land they want to get rid of … I’m your girl.

First up are the fictional good and bad rides; followed by the real rides that got him to San Francisco. 3 books for the price of 1!

If you’ve ever seen or read any of John’s past work you are well aware that his imagination reaches a level that most people cannot even fathom and he does not hold back in the fictional version of his journey. Some might think it was over the top, others (like myself) might think … hey, you never know. 

How could you not respond to this clever sign?

How could you not respond to this clever sign?

John wouldn’t be John without adding some exaggerated lewdness to the first half of the book. Hey, he isn’t known as the “Pope of Trash” for his portrayal of sunshine and butterflies. There were times when I think I might have blushed, cringed and laughed behind the wheel as I listened to him tell his fictional tale, but it didn’t stop me.

His words just confirmed that if anyone in this world was going to have sex with an Alien; be given a magical asshole for three hours that would fix a flat and sing duets with Connie Frances …  well, it would be John Waters.

After all the crazy antics of the fictional adventures, I heard the words 18s4bouiebbr9jpg“The Real Thing” and I found myself so engrossed that I was driving in circles just to finish a chapter. It was worth every ounce of fuel … even at $3.67 a gallon!

I couldn’t help but imagine myself as one of those dashboard hula girls eavesdropping on every ride.  Best seat in the house. 

Does all of this make me want to manicure my thumb and hit the highway? Not one bit.  It does however urge me to head into each day with my wit, optimism and belief that not every stranger is a serial killer … some are just out there to Enjoy the Ride  …  just like me. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All In A Days Work

fb101f0749291403d2416549ccec38b3This past week was beyond challenging on the ole nerves for this girl in the work place. Between being shorthanded, overbooked and having our computer system go down for an entire day, it’s a miracle that I am still alive.

This recipe for insanity really made me miss that extra pulse in the office, along with the days of pencils and paper! You broke a point, you sharpened it and you’re back in business… you weren’t on HOLD for hours trying to “fix” the problem.

Yesterday things seemed to start turning around when our computers came back to life! I’m pretty sure my excitement when the “logon” screen popped up was a tad over the top, but that’s what happens when you are 100% dependent on its existence.  If I had pom poms they would  have been used….sad but true. 

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Was this really too much to ask for?

So what does one do after spending 3 days basking in the fires of hell? She takes advantage of the sunny sky at lunchtime and heads outside to enjoy it! 

My co-worker and I found a nice shady bench to relax, which lasted all of a nano second. One of the security guards and believe me when I tell you that term is being used VERY lightly, was right in front of us gazing into the sky as if a flying saucer was about to land.

Of course my imagination immediately goes wild with scenarios on what might be happening as I pretend to call dispatch. We have 203 over at the MOB and I might need back-up.  In other words there is a bird flying over the medical office building. I think the biggest case they ever took on was catching a smoker lighting up on hospital grounds. 

As we sat there mocking the poor guy, we actually did hear a strange noise and wondered if this was what he was investigating. By “investigating” I mean looking towards the sky. 

My co-worker inquires as to what he was doing and he responded in the most monotone voice “There are 2 dogs locked in that pick-up truck and I’m looking for the security camera to see how long it’s been parked there.” W H A T?

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Badass to the CORE!

Since we are both HUMAN and DOG LOVERS, we ran over to the truck to see for ourselves. Sure enough there were 2 dogs locked in the hot truck with the all the windows up barking and crying! Needless to say we immediately sprung into action. 

At this point Cagney & Lacey a/k/a me and my co-worker take charge of the case. Someone had to! We immediately approach the guard to see if he was going to break the window. Which is exactly what the police say to do in these cases. Again he responds with a half-dead … NO.

funniespet.com

funniespet.com

We plead our case by informing him in our most crazed voices that it’s “ok” to break the window,but he doesn’t budge. It seemed like it was an effort for him to give us an answer. 

Please to do not fuck around with two women who are already on the edge … just don’t! We were responding to the situation like Navy Seals, while this “guard” was acting as if he swallowed a bottle of Valium. I’m thinking …”this is your chance to make a difference buddy!” 

Cagney & Lacey:  Are you going to call the police?

Droopy Dog:  No. I’m going back to the office to check the surveillance tape to see how long the truck has been parked here.

Cagney & Lacey:  These dogs will be dead by then!

Droopy Dog:  I have to ask my boss about calling the police. Lacey:  YOU HAVE TO CALL YOUR BOSS?! Well I don’t have to check with anyone I’m calling.

I make the call while Cagney uses her quick thinking to round-up some suspects. Since this was obviously a construction vehicle and work is being done on the premises, perhaps it belongs to one of the workers. This thought was like Rocket Science to the “guard”.

Droopy Dog:  What police did you call?

Lacey: The real police? The police that come when you call 911.

Droopy Dog:  Well my boss is at another site and I would have to check with him.

Lacey:  This is an emergency! I can’t believe you can’t call yourself. Walks away in disbelief …. Just then the suspect comes out to his truck and Droopy exchanges words with him. He has the NERVE to say “It’s not even that hot in here!”  He gets into his truck and starts to leave. Oh no you’re not! 

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Helpful Information.

I get back on the phone to update the dispatcher when I notice the truck stopping at the next entrance and he enters the building with the dogs. Droopy pulls behind the truck and with the speed of a turtle, follows him inside. I think I saw two snails pass him …. Jesus! 

Just as the suspect comes back outside the REAL police are on the scene. Cagney & Lacey returned to their day jobs and hoped justice was served. By the look on the face of the real police officer as he sped by, it’s safe to say it was. 

We hear too many stories these days about children and animals being locked in hot vehicles. Local news reporters are cooking eggs on dashboards all over the country, just to make a point about just how hot a vehicle can get on a summer day. Unless you just surfaced from under a rock … you know the deal.

BOOM! That my friends is the sound of my mind being blown by the fact that some people still feel that somehow they are above a devastating outcome. YOUR NOT THAT POWERFUL …SORRY!  Enjoy the Ride  with Caution!

The Truth and Nothing but the Truth

22f3413f964e0d774e694743286a4ddcToday I am here to bitch and complain about a couple that have been driving me absolutely batty for some time now. Please let me introduce you to Politics and Religion. Not that anyone really needs an introduction at this point…they get around.

However, I’m sure you know them by their more popular names such as the Buzz Killers, Room Clearers, Fun Suckers and of course the old school … Party Poopers.

At this point in our lives I think its safe to say that we are all aware of the huge invisible SKULL & CROSSBONES displayed at the entrance to all public gatherings warning us of these two. So, unless you are prepared for a full on debate, that could potentially turn into a scene from the Fight Club, you must heed to the warning and avoid these two like a plague. People are on the brink of cray these days. 

Sadly, thanks to technology, we now have the displeasure of facing these two in the comfort of our own homes. I know when danger-Will-RobinsonI open my dear friend Mac I just want to chill. I do not want to be exposed to a heap of BS opinions about these two, but BAM! they always make an appearance. Unfortunately social media does not come with and arm waving robot screeching … DANGER LISA! DANGER! before logging on.

Honestly, how many hateful misinformed memes or “news” alerts that MUST BE SHARED to spread the misinformed hate across the land can one person endure? Not ONE more!

Don’t get me wrong, I too have had my moments. This fun-loving non confrontational Pisces has been sucked right into the vortex on occasion by … dare I say … responding to the crazy.  I actually blow my own mind at how quickly I switch to Cap Lock and fire away.

It’s so frustrating to suddenly read the “opinion” of a well-educated, normally reasonable person, because it is based on the opinion of some half-truth media source. I think that’s what bugs me most….people have transformed from armchair quarterbacks to polarized parrots over night. 

ed67d87bd7685c9357cbf9a54189d245What the hell happened to waiting for the facts or heaven forbid the truth? I know they always seem to take their good ole time getting to the surface and their black sheep cousin Distorted ALWAYS shows up first reeking so much havoc no one even takes them seriously when they decide to sachet through the door….late as usual, acting like a couple of wallflowers!

I do have a solution to make some big changes, but it sadly doesn’t have a chance in hell of actually happening … even though it’s brilliant.

During my extensive research on this subject, I came to the conclusion that the only legit Truth & Fact tellers on this planet come in the form of a 4-year-olds. An advanced 3-year-old would also do. 

These uninhibited balls of cuteness don’t play around with appropriateness, they go right for the jugular and get away with it with one flash of their dimples. They don’t worry about filtering what comes out of their mouths and they certainly don’t have a care in the world about political correctness. The truth and nothing but the truth.

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I’ll tell you everything you want to know and then some.

They just let the truthful facts and common sense spew from their mouths without an ounce of concern. Let me put it this way … if a 4-year-old tells you you’re fat, chances are that is indeed a truthful fact. They don’t play!

Look at little Nancy Drew over there on the right. She took matters into her own little hands when her Kitty Bank was stolen by her babysitter. She just let the police know the truthful facts and BAM! the crime was solved. Kids are also very good judges of character .. we need to listen to what they have to say. 

“The bad guys stole my kitty bank, they stole my iPod. They also stole my Xbox and my Wii,” the little girl said. “That was really her being bad. She’s not a good babysitter.”

Now take a moment to imagine all the decision-making seats in D.C. filled with 4 year olds. They don’t lie and they have no concept of money! Why no one has made this suggestion before is beyond me. 

I can’t help but laugh as I ponder on all the conversations that may take place during a decision-making session. “Your Bill is dumb!” “No it’s not!””Yes it is!”  “Ok.”  Lord knows they would have these sessions wrapped up before snack time if little Mateo was running the show.

As we celebrate our freedoms today, let’s make a conscious effort to use these privileges wisely and Listen … Listen… Listen as we Enjoy the Ride! 

 

 

 

Those Were The Days

Father’s Day has been different for me over the years. My father died on Father’s Day in 1994. It’s ok, don’t be all sad, he planned the big exit so we would never forget. Honestly, I always thought it would be Christmas, the big guns amongst the holidays, but having your father die on Father’s Day…well-played Jim, well-played indeed. This was a man with a very large presence, who wanted to be remembered in a very grand way, so I would say…mission accomplished dad. My dad was almost 58 when I born..oops, which made my childhood a tad interesting to say the least. It’s funny because I never thought my dad was old, he was just my dad. Until that Summer afternoon in my driveway when my best friend invited me to come to her Grahms surprise 60th birthday party. She informed me it was going to be a big party because 60 is really old. This moment was equivalent having a friend fill you in on the whole Santa hoax. Wadda mean really old?  Needless to say the lightbulb went off, the calculator in my head was hard at work and 68 is the final answer. Should I be afraid that the Grim Reaper is lurking in the shadows?  Yes, which is exactly what I did from that moment forward. Side note: My mother was 20 years younger, just in case you were going to look me up in the Guinness Book of World Records as the baby born to the oldest woman or something. He certainly didn’t act old. We went to the shore, amusement parks, rides to Lancaster, just because he liked chicken and dumplings. We drove for ice-cream on a whim to a special place 45 minutes away, because it was better. We did everything the kids with a young dad did, just with more gray hair. Age is just a number folks.

Mom? Dad?

As I said my dad had a big personality. He was a Jimmy Hoffa/Archie Bunker (without the bigotry) all rolled into one. If he had something to say, he said it. If you crossed him…be afraid. If there was a wrong to be righted, he got the job done. How? Who knows and it’s probably better to leave some things to the imagination. He was a feisty free spirit who lived his life according to his own set of rules. He was loud, stubborn, demanding, certainly not boring, full of life and definitely had a good sense of humor. He never smoked or drank a day in his life, which most likely helped him in the end. I couldn’t even imagine an alcohol induced Jim…I think I just got goose bumps at that thought.  He was a Teamster and drove a truck for a living, but retired when I went to first grade. So in 1971 he became the stay at home dad and my mother went to work. Let’s just draw some more attention to ourselves as being different shall we. However, my mother was still required to cook & clean..come on now he was still the man of the house for god sakes it was 1971! Both of my parents were very politically active during my childhood, so although he was retired from his job he always had something going on politically. He did go back to work part-time until he was 81. His motto was “always work hard, but remember you’re only a number”  and today my siblings and I are all incredibly loyal hard-working adults, despite being a number. When my dad was 81 he lost part of his foot to diabetes, with some help from Dr. Jim when he decided he would remove his ingrown toenail with pliers. Feel free to read that line again, yes you did read “pliers” and  yes, as in the tool in the garage. Of course no one knew how bad it was until it was too late. My mother had to retire at that point to care for him for the next 7 years. She refers to that time as “serving her sentence.”  The woman is a saint! There isn’t a jury in the land that would convict her if she accidentally sat on that pillow on his face…trust me.  Jim was the worst patient in the ENTIRE world. Try telling an old free spirit …”you can’t”. The sentence “you can’t drive anymore, we need to take your license” was a million times more deadly than that gangrenous foot, for all of us. Although, I know there were highways out there cheering with joy that Mr. Magoo was finally parked for good. Sitting in the passenger seat could cure even the worst case of constipation. Honestly, when the man behind the wheel is saying “I’ll drive wherever the hell I want..I pay my taxes” as your entering the street with the red and white DO NOT ENTER sign, you know why your bowels are rumbling! Although I was born to an older dad, I was fortunate that he hung around long enough to meet my daughter. Unfortunately, I found out I was pregnant with my son the day before his funeral. This was a huge surprise, considering I had no recollection of having sex. But, according to that blue plus sign on the stick, I did. My first thought was “Oh, shit!” and rightfully so, because sure enough,  I am raising a stubborn, demanding, free-spirited, out spoken son who looks just like my dad…thanks dad! I think the jury is still out on this one. Just remember folks at 58 my father lived another life. He died when I was 30 years old. So he raised me, watched me get married… twice, became a grandfather for the 7th time and taught me a valuable lesson … you’re never too old to Enjoy the Ride! 

Mrs. Magoo

82f61d98e3340a4c2f716c03d6c8a993I am trying very hard to age gracefully, but I must admit there’s not much grace involved when you are suddenly half blind and randomly peeing your pants.

I must admit that my biggest peeve so far has been the loss of my once perfect vision. Perfect …. it was PERFECT!

Of course I know that I must sound like a whining ungrateful first world person with partial vision, but I don’t care …. I MISS MY SIGHT! I do not like depending on my young eye rolling daughter for assistance in reading price tags, text messages or labels. I’m basically sending her to college to be a guide dog at this point. 

Ugh, the struggles are endless. Oh, yes I did say struggle and I’m not afraid to bump it up to hardship if necessary. When I’m out and about on my own I find myself scanning the room for a set of young friendly, potentially assisting eyes. I’m convinced the Cougars out there aren’t looking for hot sex, they’re looking for a good set of eyes!5f9d3430506f079a63ef4ef22f669455

I guess you’re all saying “Get Glasses!” right about now aren’t you?  Well, for your information I have glasses, but I REFUSE to wear them on top of my head, where I know they’ll be entangled in my hair, creating the potential for a bald spot or heaven forbid having them dangling around my neck on one of those decorative chains that just draws even more attention to my loss of perfect sight. Therefore, my stubbornness has resulted in me CONSTANTLY loosing my glasses.

The reason I am bitching, moaning and beating a fossilized horse on this subject is something happened to me a few weeks ago that brought this acute Mr. Magoo lifestyle to the surface full force. For the crowd under 40, Mr. Magoo was a famous cartoon character who made a fortune off of his blindness. 

A few weeks ago I went out back with my love bug Peanut for his morning walk. I’ve learned the hard way to always LOOK carefully before opening the gate, because critters are always roaming around waiting to scare the shit out of me. Animals have a sick sense of humor, especially in the morning.

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Blue Tropical Parrot spotted in the Northeastern section of Philadelphia

There was no need for me to wear glasses on this trip out back … or so I thought. Just as I was about to open the gate I noticed a beautiful blue parrot just sitting peacefully in the field. I went back in the house to grab a phone so I could capture a photo of this once in a lifetime moment. My husband was perplexed at my behavior, but I assured him my excitement was justified.

I gently opened the gate, channeled my inner church mouse and proceeded to tip toe through the grass. I couldn’t believe my luck that the bird wasn’t fleeing as I got closer. It was like he was just waiting for me. My heart was pounding out of my chest with excitement over my luck!

As I got a few feet away my EYES started to adjust and I suddenly had the sad realization that I was not going to be the one to capture this beautiful bird and collect the handsome reward that would most likely be posted for its safe return.

Nope, I was not going to post a photo of this grand bird on my Facebook page, where it would no doubt receive millions of “likes” and be shared all over the world.

Nope, my photo was not going to blow up Twitter like Ellen’s selfie at the Oscars … it just wasn’t going to happen.

Apparently I had misjudged the identification of this species, most likely due to my recent case of Magooitis, but my friend Dan, who was obviously concerned, sent my photo to the local Bird Society where it was correctly identified.

I am happy to present to you the Herr’s Blue Chip Foil, normally found in the potato fields of Idaho, but due to recent climate changes high winds this beauty landed smack in the middle of Northeastern Philadelphia where it resided until the next big wind.

Herr's Blue Chip Foil

Herr’s Blue Chip Foil

Needless to say when I realized what I had stumbled upon I went down on my knees, laughed out loud and of course … peed my pants. Even though I miss my 20/20 vision a great deal, I must say having Magooitis has provided me with some great laughs while I continue to … Enjoy the Ride! 

 

 

 

 

Youth Has No Age

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My love bugs!

I’m sure you were all wondering if I decided to drive off a cliff with the top down after turning 50, but actually it’s been just the opposite. That’s right I’ve been out and about spending my days being nothing short of FAB-U-LOUS! 

My husband hosted a luncheon in my honor at the beautiful Bridgetown Mill House, where I was celebrated by my family. I must say the best gift of the day was not purchased at any store. I know that sounds like a cliché, but it is 100% true.

There is something extremely healthy about being surrounded by people who really love you with all their heart. Truly the best birthday EVAH! 

Fear one tackled! Celebrating after my first 5k!!

Fear one tackled! Celebrating after my first 5k!!

After all the celebrating I made a decision to take on some fears that have been preventing me from being the best me. Fears tend to do that you know.

It was time to pack up my younger self for a short trip down memory lane.I gave her a big “it’s been real bitch”, grabbed my aging self and ran like hell! Honestly, the “who cares” phase is so much more liberating than the “what will they think?” phase of my life.

Next up was recognizing or admitting that I’m not getting those younger years back, so I better start a hot and heavy love affair with the future real soon. Once I realized that 50 was actually the threshold to get me to the future, I came to terms with the realities. Holding onto the past is only going to leave you standing out on the porch pissed off at the world. 

Below is a sample of some truths that I chose to face before crossing the threshold. 

1517630_10201614433267345_1436962995_n1. No matter how good I feel about the look of my ass, I will NEVER be able to go commando in my workout pants … ever!

  • REASON: Panty lines are no longer a big deal when you’ve been forced to wear the equivalent of a twin sized mattress between your legs for fear of peeing all over the floor during a workout.

2. I really should have taken the time to appreciate what I saw in the mirror when I had the chance.  I feel as though I wasted so much time and energy focusing on my “faults” during every reflection, I never got to appreciate the whole package.

  • REASON:  The day will come when you pass a mirror, take a few steps back, look again and say “who the fuck is that?”

3.  Now when my phone rings in the middle of the night it will not be a drunk girlfriend summoning me to a club where there is c5ca6c4ca0b2ba7cc0337cff8f1832f8an abundance of hot available men nor will it be a hot available man summoning my booty.

  • REASON: Phone calls in the middle of the night now mean two things .. DEATH or DEATH.

4.  Sight is a gift that I have taken for granted. I wish I spent my youth threading more needles, reading more newspapers or just “seeing” anything and everything.

  • REASON: The day will come when you realize you now have the same vision as a naked mole rat. This means that your chances of mistaking a mannequin for a live person now have better odds than you winning the lottery. 

5.  During my 20’s I really should have taken advantage of going braless. I should have worked the perkiness of my breasts and flaunted them to the world. They were nothing short of magnificent!!

  • REASON:  One day you will wake up and actually justify rolling up your now sagging breasts, placing them into a something that resembles a medieval torture contraption … just to go food shopping.

65cf4114fae975dc734dde69262211d4I’ll admit crossing the threshold was filled with some mixed emotions. It was like being really happy at a funeral. If that makes any sense at all.  I just stood in the doorway thinking “damn this is liberating” , until I noticed the sickle of the Grim Reaper shining just a tad brighter in the distance. Back It Up Bitch!  

Instead of trying to beat age make the most of it. If that means bedazzling your adults diapers … do it!

Enjoy the Ride! 

 

 

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