Tag Archives: mid life crisis

Meet The Cobs

Thank you Mother Nature for giving us a well-earned break from the fires of hell on Sunday. We took a long ride in the MLC (Mid-Life Crisis) for the newcomers.

No plans, just a ride…or so I thought. We were somewhere around Quakertown, PA when we pulled into an empty church parking lot. Of course the million dollar question is “what are we doing here?”  I heard the response, but I just wasn’t on the same page as…”this is the house I was telling you about, the one next to the church.”  Some lightbulbs were going off, but they were dim and I was still stuck on church & home being used in the same sentence. 

The house was nice, very well-groomed, empty and a good price. All good right? We turned around in the parking lot and there was nothing but CORN as far as the eye could see. My hubby asked..”so what do you think?’ I didn’t pull the guns out at first, I made some nice comments about the house, but then I had to ask “who will I talk to, there is no one here?  “Me” was the response. Yea, love is one thing, 24/7  is a whole other story.

It appeared GOD was on my side, the words SALE PENDING were covering the FOR SALE portion of the sign. Well played God, well-played indeed. 

We continued on with our day. I was enjoying the scenery along with the music, as I was continuously being reminded how “nice & quiet” it was around those parts. Yep, it really must be a hit for people who are into silence. 

The sales pitches were coming at me like darts, but I was loosing my case bad, almost at a slaughter level. My case started off with a very weak …”that shopping area looked congested, almost dirty.”  Considering I’m from Philadelphia, that doesn’t even make sense, yet it came right out of this mouth. The look was enough, no need for words to slam that insane defense. The Green Acres theme song was just pounding away in my head at this point.

One thing throughout the entire day stood out like a sore thumb, only women seemed to be cutting the lawn. I saw women on tractors, riding mowers and pushing mowers with hot pink sound proof ear phones. She was hardcore about battling those blades of grass…why? 

I started the conversation about the high volume of women cutting the lawn, only to hear yet another sales pitch. “See you could be out cutting the lawn instead of being on the computer.” Really? Yea, this was the turning point, ready…aim…fire! 

Me:  First of all I’m allergic to everything under the sun, I can’t even pick a tomato in our garden without a suit of armor and I still seem to come inside with a tick or a rash.

Meet The Cobs

The only reason those woman are cutting the lawn is to escape the madness inside those homes! If they don’t do something with their hands they will be bludgeoning someone with a frying pan.

Let me just give you a scenario of our life surrounded by corn. You’ll go to work, but now your day will be longer because we are so far from civilization. This leaves me alone with my imagination, creative abilities and CORN. So, don’t be surprised when you come home and find extra place settings for our guests The Cobs.

That’s right, I will be spending my days sewing little outfits for The Cobs, to match the imaginary personalities I created.

Of course you’ll go along with this insanity out of fear, knowing it’s only a matter of time before Pop, the disgruntled Cob shows up to wreak havoc on the silence. For the record….I don’t even like corn!

Oddly enough throughout my entire presentation Bridge Over Troubled Water was playing on the radio….it didn’t help. 

Hubby: Well, it looks like we’re going to need something between the corn and the city. 

Me:  Amen! 

We laughed most of the way back to civilization. We agreed that even though something was “moving” in our neighbor’s trash bag, it doesn’t mean we have to be exiled to the silence of corn fields for the rest of your days. Compromise is good….unless it involves bringing a “moving” trash bag to corn land to add some city spice, which yes, was suggested during the sales pitch. 

Happiness is meeting in the middle while you…Enjoy the Ride!

Don’t Shoot The Messenger

Here’s my story sad but true.

Nine, yes 9 glorious days ago, I geared myself up to increase my physical activity level from ZERO to at least a THREE by the end of the month. Considering that the temperatures outside have reached the Fires of Hell level, I opted to begin my journey in the comforts of my own home with the Wii Fit.

Easy enough…right?

Increasing my exercise level was nothing compared to hooking up the dam thing to get started. Both kids were at the shore, so I was left to master this on my own. I did break a sweat, but it was mainly from cursing at my frustration. If there were a calorie burn for cursing, I would be on the cover of Vogue.

I was so frustrated I had to call the Help Desk, you guessed it….the KIDS. Of course no one answers my crys for help and endless calls. This is very strange considering their life source phones usually need to be surgically removed from their hands at home. 

So, what’s a mother to do? This mother has NO shame, she called one of their friends. Interesting how my phone rings to tell me…Mom! stop calling my friends you’re so embarrassing! No, embarrassing would have been having the kid come over when I looked like a Sea Hag as I tried to hook this dam thing up!

First question from the teenage friend….Lisa, is it plugged in?  After I kindly reminded him of my brilliance, he walked me through it and it still did not work. The husband fixed it in 3 seconds, but I didn’t ask him for 2 days later…I was determined avoiding. 

Alright, time to blow the dust off those sneakers and get this party started!

Now, in order to get started you have to make a little character of yourself called a Mii and design it accordingly. I was starting fresh, so I created a new Mii. Her name is “Mom” so lame I know with brown hair and a pony tail. Note to self: Do not create an image of yourself when you are feeling like shit. 

Lequita, my alter ego Mii, is african american with blonde hair, pink lipstick an a ton of sassiness. Sort of like Niki Minaj without the boobs. I’m sure she will cheer “Mom” on from the sidelines. Lequita is so badass. 

Day One:  I step onto the Wii Fit board and it says “Ugh!” in a condescending voice. I get off and get back on only to hear “Ooo! Are you serious? There is something very unnerving about being virtually mocked.

Day Two:  The board is still mocking me, but now it gets personal. For some reason my scores are horrible. When I was Laquita I was killing it with my scores in the hundreds, now I’m barely getting 80. Low scores = whomp whomp sounds along with “Mom” hanging her head in shame. I’m really not feeling the love here Nintendo! 


Day Three:  Still chugging along without any progress on my scores. The Geisha Girl voice on this game is now equivalent to nails on a chalkboard as she says, “Oh, you seem to be unbalanced.”  Now I feel like I’m at the nail salon, but I can actually understand what everyone is talking about…”feet like man” or in this case…couch potato.

Day Four:  Sweating like a pig as I continue to be baffled by my inability to increase these scores!!!! Then it happens THE VOICE has the nerve to say “working on your core muscles every day will help you with your balance.” Stick your core and your muscles up your ass! What the hell do you think I’ve been doing? 

Day Five: I decided to switch things up and do the program after work. There I was on the board in the middle of sucking at my attempt at virtual slalom skiing, when my son walked in the room. “Oh, let me try I haven’t done this in a long time.” Ok, but it’s really hard. “Yea I guess it is when you have the board backward!”  Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! So, for FIVE days this bitch couldn’t once say…TURN THE BOARD AROUND! 

Day Six through today:  I am kicking some Wii Fit ass and surpassing my daughter’s scores! The Geisha Girl is still a condescending bitch and I can not guarantee her safety at this point.

The lesson here folks….Don’t Shoot The Messenger, or in this case bludgeon a video game for speaking the truth. Instead I am grateful that this game was made in Japan and therefore very polite. If this game was made in the United States, there is a very good chance I would have heard “Dam girl, you need to give a game a warning before stepping your fat ass onboard!” 

Look at the bright side and of course…Enjoy the Ride! 

I Love My Samsonite

I came from a funny family, in every sense of the word. I grew up at a time when fathers went to work, and mothers stayed home to do motherly and wifely things all day. Yea, that was not my house.

My mother went to work when I was 7, and my father was most likely the first stay at home dad in the United States. A role model or instruction manual would have been nice, really really nice. 

I’m pretty sure squirting the Jehovah Witnesses off the front porch with a garden hose would have been frowned upon in the instruction manual. Hey, at least he didn’t ask us to be accomplices, he just told us to”watch this.” In his defense, they were warned and clearly weren’t used to people following through with their threats.

Mother & I preparing a cake for the church bake sale.

Our family already stuck out like sore thumbs amongst the Ward & June Cleaver types on our block. My parents were 20 years apart; I have (2) siblings old enough to be my parents, another sister who is 15 months older than me, who was no doubt the, oops, leaving me to be the WTF shock. Honestly, the only thing drawing more attention would be a third eye or tentacles. 

This dynamic was much harder on the older siblings. They grew up in an era where families were portrayed as “perfect.” The white picket fence father knows best era. I never trusted those homes, everyone has some Samsonite, and those people locked it in the closet.

My sister and I really had an advantage. Our examples were more realistic with an integrated family like The Brady Bunch surfacing along with the All In The Family crew that made us look downright acceptable. We were way ahead of the Modern Family times. 

When you’re born into crazy, there is only one thing to do…LAUGH. Personally, I wouldn’t have it any other way. We all walked away with quick wits and the ability to find humor in just about any occasion.

Over the weekend my hubby turned the BIG 50. The whole family gathered at a local restaurant for dinner to celebrate.

Soon after arriving it was clear that either the air conditioning wasn’t working up to par or we were all having a unison heat flash. Not good in close quarters when it’s already close to 100 outside. 

One of my sisters came back from the restroom and claimed “Omg! I look like a freaking rice cake with lipstick!” The best part about this is we all “got it” and could quickly respond with a confirmed “Omg! You do, you need some peanut butter girl.”  

It’s official folks … RiceKake will now be included on the list of other famous sayings within our family circle. The new spelling was given the next day by the creator, just to give it edge…so badass.

Yesterday my husband referred to me as a RiceKake when I surfaced from a public restroom dripping with sweat after suffering stomach pains. Nothing says love quite like..Are you alright you look like a RiceKake? I quickly responded with…Seriously, I need some Nutella!

Our parents used crazy expressions all the time that have been embedded in us, but we tweaked them over the years. The list is very long, but I chose (2) that are most commonly used.

My mother was famous for the term “crazy as a hoot owl.” Throughout the years it has been altered to a simple “hooty” and for extreme situations “hooty in the highest.” This is a reference given to those people who are either crazy in a good way or a notch away from insanity. Please do not confuse this with “suits of skin” which is in a separate category. 

All of the women in our family, including the offspring, use the term “he/she has a hair.” This originated from “he/she has a bug up their ass.” Over the years, depending on the level of attitude, we have all tweaked this to meet our individual needs.

It started out with a hair, which led to a ponytail that soon graduated into a braid and ended with a dread, which is short for dreadlocks. Oh yes, we all know it’s bad when one of us says “dam, he/she has a freaking dread!” You haven’t seen attitude until you’ve seen someone with a dread! 

Example of use:  Daughter: Mom, my boss had the biggest hair today.

Me: How bad?

Daughter: Oh, at least a braid!

Me: Well, he was probably just having a bad day, don’t worry about it.

My upbringing made me who I am today, complete with my own set of Samsonite to bring with me into adulthood. Recently I recognized the importance of working through the unpleasant moments by embracing the flaws in my baggage and sorting through all the good things that I safely tucked away in those little secret compartments. That’s where All the good stuff is.

Our families give us character, some more colorful than others, but ultimately all the same. The more we all except who we are, the easier it is to …. Enjoy the Ride!

Enjoy The Journey

This weekend certainly was a well-earned beauty! Mother Nature finally broke down and took something for her recurring hot flashes, giving us all a well-deserved break from the heat and humidity. Even my air conditioner let out a huge sigh of relief when I hit the off switch.

We decided to get our Ferris Bueller on, take the day off from our humdrum chores, put the top down and ride on … Oh Yeah!  Ok, so we didn’t crash a parade or have entire city singing Twist and Shout, but it was still fun.

We decided to check out the Covered Bridges of Bucks County. I’ll be honest; the bridges weren’t nearly as exciting as the journey to locate each one. I was very proud of my co-pilot abilities. I was really on my game, Pocahontas level if I do say so myself. Considering my lack of map reading skills, this was huge deal for me.

We had the GPS, but I did not feel like hearing that condescending bitch the whole ride. We haven’t gotten along since I completely ignored her repeated demands to get off an exit while singing along to the radio. She really needs to get over her recalculating self. 

I wasn’t sure how the trip was going to go since right out of the gate we encountered (2) fun sucking moments. First up, humanity at its lowest. A young, very impaired man in a motorized wheelchair was trying to cross the street. The light turned green as he proceeded to cross SINCE HE DOES HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY, however the trained rats at the light also proceeded to go forward. Green means go, must go, light is green. The young man was pointing at the light, with a contorted hand, to indicate he had the right of way.

In this moment it really paid off to have a convertible. No need to roll down windows or hide behind tinted glass; you just raise your head over the windshield and let loose on this lack of civilization. No doubt I looked like a deranged giraffe, but was worth it. 

That glory did not last long. Within minutes we encountered the downside of a convertible, which happens to be all that openness. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a young buck running out of the woods. This thing was practically in the car!

He seemed unfazed as he went back to the forest, where I’m sure my screams were the highlight of conversation around the woods. You should have seen her face, she was all screaming, it was straight up cray cray. I was sweating from fear while Rudolph was doing stand-up!

Onward to the covered bridges dammit! Uncivilized people and comedic wildlife are no match for this dynamic duo!

The bridges were located in obscure locations, which made the journey between each one interesting to say the least. Many of the roads were narrow, covered with debris from the recent storms that left me hitting “my” break every five seconds, not to mention the lack of human life form. My city slicker status was officially confirmed. 

Throughout the day my husband kept pointing out different properties for sale. Look, that one has your name on it. Not unless my name is NO WAY it doesn’t. These places were beautiful, but I require entertainment. Grass growing is not entertainment.

As we were riding along these beautiful roads, with no lights or signs of human life, he continued to ask me if I would consider thinking about moving out to this beautiful countryside. Um, actually I was thinking that if I ever killed someone this area is loaded with good places to dump the body. What? You asked.

Honestly, he could live out there and be busy from sun up to sun down, he is a putter while I prefer to bustle. This works out wonderful where we are now, but I would not fare well in putterville. I need someone to give me the finger every once in awhile, let me know I’m alive for god sakes!  

Reality set in and he saw the light once we lost the signal to our radio station and a man suddenly appeared with a shovel on the side of the road. My immediate thought was “holy shit this is just like an episode of Criminal Minds.” Once I regrouped, I realized he was just heading to scoop up the latest possum that didn’t quite make it across the road. Call me crazy, but that seems a little odd. 

All in all it was a great day off filled with excitement, adventure, laughter & love. I highly recommend taking some notes from Ferris Bueller. Take a moment to experience the journey and Enjoy the Ride! 

Fantasy Friday

There has been quite a bit of chatter amongst the ladies about fantasies. Let’s face it; between Magic Mike and 50 Shades, this Summer is one of the hottest on record. This does not include flashes or dew point averages … they are a separate kind of hot.

Here is the low down folks. I wasted 10 hard-earned dollars saw Magic Mike. Seriously, I’ve seen better plots in porno flicks! The lack of chemistry between the characters was so awkward for the audience, especially this patron, I actually found myself wanting an unexpected plumber to appear on the screen to “take care of pipes.” I still don’t think there was a script. 

I will admit to enjoying the dance moves of Channing Tatum, however I am NOT turned on by guys even if they are smoking hot who wear oversized sweat pants accessorized with a baseball cap. Construction workers, anyone resembling a cast member of Mad Men and of course the Indian or I guess since it’s 2012, the Native American from the Village People would do it at any given time …. Depending on the mood of course. 

As for 50 Shades of Grey, I haven’t jumped on that bandwagon…yet. I think I’ll hop on board at the end of July, when my kiddies will be enjoying the shore without us. We will have the Love Shack house all to ourselves, just in case there are any side effects to reading what Mr. Grey has to offer. Any who…

All of this chatter had me thinking about my own fantasies. Guess what, they don’t include men. Put your filthy minds away right now. Let’s see what good old Merriam Webster has to say about the word Fantasy shall we.

FANTASY: noun; the forming of mental images, especially wondrous or strange fancies; imaginative conceptualizing.

Thank you Merriam for setting the record straight, those Fantasies do not have to include sex. That being said let me reveal some of my most passionate thoughts. There is one fantasy that I’ve been having for years … Jeez, just the thought puts a huge smile on my face. As each year passes, I add different scenarios that just make it better and better….ahh. Oops, slipped right off into La La Land for a moment. Let get down to biz…here is just a taste of what gets this momma excited.

I long for the day when my son gets his own dwelling, for so many reasons, but none more satisfying than what I am about to disclose. The anticipation can be overwhelming at times. Brace yourselves folks….

After a long day of helping him move into his new place, our bodies still covered in sweat, my husband and I slowly walk over to the refrigerator to grab some cold juice boxes. Our son immediately notices the juice boxes from his childhood, forming a huge smile on his face.

On cue like 2 well-organized Ninjas, we drop the juice boxes. In a flash we start jumping on them shooting the juice across the room hopefully on a light-colored carpet to see who can shoot it the furthest. We walk over to our son, pick his jaw up off the floor and tell him Game On as we laugh all the way home. I have goose bumps! 

After we arrive home we discuss our next encounter. The anticipation of being invited to a dinner party brings shivers down my spine. Should we start off slow by flushing the glass votive holders down the toilet or do we slam hard with the unexpected and decorate the hallway with EVERY Always Maxi with Wings in the box … either way I’ll leave satisfied…I might even have a smoke!

Fantasies are a wonderful escape from reality. It doesn’t matter if they include the likes of Magic Mike and Christian Grey or if they are filled with juice boxes and maxi pads. If you’re smiling in the end that’s all the matters.

Imagination is everything, don’t leave home without it.  Enjoy the Ride! 

Sanity Is Boring

A Full Moon + Excessive Heat and Humidity = Straight-Up Crazy.

This is just a taste of my personal cray cray. It does not include the end of the world weather we are experiencing, rising gas prices or the disappointment of Magic Mike at a theatre near you.

Monday:  Everyone in this house is up and out early. My husband, son and myself were sitting in the living room waiting for my son’s friend/co-worker to arrive. Now, it is 5:45 a.m. so, we are not talking, just sitting.

My husband breaks the silence with … you guessed it, WIND. My son and I start laughing before he gets all serious and comes out with … “How come no one says anything when someone farts…you know like God Bless You when someone sneezes?”

The room fell silent again as we all eagerly tried to solve world peace the fart question, just as his friend walks in with a big “wow, it’s really quiet in here are you having an intervention or something?” Remember it’s not even 6:00 a.m. yet. 

I informed him that we were just trying to figure out why people don’t say God Bless You when someone farts, like they do when someone sneezes. The seriousness of that statement is insane.  He responds with a very frank “because it’s gross.”

Ok guys, it’s 6:00 a.m., this meeting is adjured…get out and have a good day.

Tuesday:  There isn’t enough space to include the amount of insanity that occurs in a Doctors’ office during a full moon, but a full moon before a holiday in a heat wave…Sweet Jesus! Everyone has an emergency that started 3 weeks ago, but they wait until the day before a holiday to demand an appointment. Suddenly we’re the bad guys because we can’t squeeze them in for their “emergency” which is never life threatening, until they say it out loud. “I’m going to the beach and I don’t like the way my 2nd toe looks.” Omg! Not the 2nd toe, not the one that didn’t go to the market! 

Wednesday:  Independence day. Against all I believe I went to the store…yes, the freaking supermarket on a holiday, because we were out of milk. While in the store I had a lovely exchange with a complete stranger. Who happened to be dressed as a human flag.

Stranger:  “You don’t look very patriotic”

Me:  “What does patriotic look like?”  He was so caught off guard with this response.

Stranger:  ……”Well, you’re not wearing red,white & blue.”

Me: “Is it mandatory?”

Stranger:  Slowly rolls his cart away.

Me:  Pondered for a moment about the amount of fucks I gave for not wearing red,white and blue…I concluded with “0.”

When I got to the car I realized I was wearing black/gray, subconsciously representing the grief I feel because stores are actually open on national holidays!

This glorious day ended with our neighbor, who is not a pyrotechnic specialist, setting off fireworks that ignited the brush behind our homes. Thank you Bud Light, thank you very much! 

Thursday:  Good morning giant tree that fell behind my house, it’s so lovely to see you blocking my gate at 4:50 a.m. when my dog needs to pee. Clearly Mother Nature is menopausal. 

The mid-week holiday transformed Thursday into a second Monday. I really hate when this happens. I wasted precious time in the morning gathering the trash, because MONDAY is trash day…O, yes I did. That’s pretty much how the rest of the day went, until I got home and the real joy began.

There appeared to be an unusual more than one amount of flies in the house. Yes, you could say Amityville horror level …I would actually welcome a poltergeist at this point.

 The killing spree began as soon as I put my bags down, then I went looking for the hubby. I informed him of the slaughter upstairs and he questioned me on my method of disposal. I told him I used Windex. It really lives up to that multi-purpose title.

Lord knows I didn’t expect the “You’re not right” response. He told me to use the shop vac and then let them go free outback. Wait! I’m going to lug the shop vac around the house capturing live flies into a vortex, then lug the shop vac outback in a million degree heat, to set their dizzy asses free? 

Um…..NO! I prefer to blind them with the Windex and flush them down the toilet. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, however SHE has no problem maiming & murdering. 

Friday: Heat advisories suggested we stay indoors, however my mother suggested she needed a hair cut. So, since mothers trump advisors, I took her to get her hair done.

As I sat waiting, a woman walked in for an appointment. I’m giving her the once over because it’s hot as hell and shorts were involved when I noticed a lump on the back of her leg. Now, as if the lump wasn’t alarming enough, the fact that there was a tattoo of an Alien that appeared to be holding the lump as if it were a planet, bells & whistles could be heard for miles. Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t leaving without an explanation.

This actually looks better…

Me:  That’s an interesting tattoo.

Her:  Oh, yea isn’t it cool?  That lump wouldn’t go away, so I put the tattoo there to make it interesting.

It’s safe to say that my facial expression pretty much let out a big ole …”dear lord woman I can only hope you were in a drunken stupor when that dumb ass decision went down.”  

Me:   Just nodded. I think. I know there were no words…nothing out loud..I hope.

These are the things that add a little spice to our days and flavor to our lives. Just embrace the crazy, laugh out loud and ….. Enjoy the Ride! 

444 Words

Yesterday wasn’t the only holiday to be celebrated. I have hit the big 50, in posts that is. Umm hmm, yes I did and I do believe a celebration is in order.  Fifty…50…The Big 5 0… Fiddy…Five-O… and L (This is the Roman Numeral for 50, for those number impaired folks like myself.) It doesn’t matter how you say it, it’s grand in its own right.

I celebrated by taking a trip all the way back to my first post to check out where I was and how far I’ve come. Just as I was getting the balloons & confetti, I realized that my first, Uno or #1 post was published on 3/4/2012, which just happens to be 4 months to the day of #50…hmm, that’s interesting. The plot thickens…

I dug a little further only to notice something else that peaked my interest. Now, brace yourselves, the only person to “like” my first post was…DRUM ROLL PLEASE….Miss Four Eyes! Let me just say …. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa that’s freaking spooky! Can you say…goosebumps?

What does this all mean? Should I be looking for a secret message in all these 4’s? Is this a coincidence or is it something more?  My curious nature demands answers, so I went to my best source, the keeper of secrets…yes, the Yoda of the cyber world…GOOGLE. Within seconds I found some answers that were interesting to say the least. In the pre-Google world this investigation would have taken days.

People under the influence of the 4 need to find ways to express their knowledge and wisdom. 

Four: The symbolic meaning of number Four deals with stability and invokes the grounded nature of all things. Consider the four seasons, four directions, four elements all these amazingly powerful essences wrapped up in the nice square package of Four. Fours represent solidity, calmness, and home. A recurrence of Four in your life may signify the need to get back to your roots, center yourself, or even “plant” yourself. Fours also indicate a need for persistence and endurance.

Considering all the changes I’ve experienced over the past 4 months, I would have to conclude that this is not a coincidence….it’s a message that has been recognized. I’m having a moment here people.

Let’s narrow this down shall we. Expression of knowledge and wisdom would certainly represent the birth of Life With The Top Down, which just happens to also be chock full of work and productivity. The references to seasons, direction and elements certainly resonates with the metamorphosis, not just within myself, but within my family. Everyone is growing all at once.

Planting roots, looking for roots, finding or planting myself all add up to something fairly new in my life…Enjoying the Ride! 

The Winner Takes All

Last night I had the pleasure of attending a benefit for the brother-in-law of an old friend. It was the “Have A Heart” fundraiser for Bill Nolen. Bill is in need of a heart transplant and is currently waiting on the list for potential recipients. This process sounds very simple by using terms such as “getting on a list”,  but it’s actually much more complex than you could ever imagine.

I know this all to well because my brother didn’t make “the list”, he wasn’t up to the commitment required to be a recipient. You either have the determination or you don’t. He passed away 4 years ago this August, after proving the doctors’ wrong on just how long he would continue to live his life, on his terms. That’s all I can say is…ignorance is indeed blissful.

My friend, who I’ll refer to as K, has not been a part of my life since Grade School, when we would occasionally be seated next to each other during our 8 years together. If you asked me today to remember something about her from that time, it would be that she was always laughing. She has not lost this trait! 

We reconnected via Facebook yea social media because she also writes a blog http://fridaynightfamily.com. It was love at first read for me, so a friend request was sent and bam the rest is history.  There were others at the benefit from grade school as well, which certainly completed the recipe for a grand ole time. One of my long-lost class mates said “I know who you are, you haven’t changed a bit.” Dear God, I hope she was referring to the 1st though 5th grade me and not that ugly, awkward 6th through 8th grade period that I would prefer to keep buried…ugh.

As you know I’ve been going through some changes in my life. Struggling daily to regain the “me” back now that I’ve received my Pink Slip as chauffeur, school volunteer and doer of things that need to be done around these parts. I suddenly have “free time” for “me time” however, filling it has been much more difficult than I anticipated. Where the hell did all my ideas go..I swear I  use to have ideas. It certainly takes practice getting back what you lost….yourself.

Over the years I have earned a Doctorate in “Excuse Making” with a Masters in “Talk Yourself Out Of It”, whatever “it” may be. However, when the changes started rolling into my life, I made a conscious decision to start putting those to better use while I focus on my “F It … Just Do It” and “Be In The Moment” degrees. I’m not going to lie, this is no easy task.

This benefit for Bill was the perfect opportunity to jump back in and be me for an evening. Actually it was a much-needed WE for the evening. The fact that it was for a good cause, well that just made it even better.  It was a win/win for sure. Oh, speaking of winning…….LOOK WHAT WE WON!

That’s right, we came home with these two beauties loaded with all sorts of goodies, including wine.  Seriously, does it get any better?  Um, yes as a matter of fact it does. Not only were WE winners…our whole table won! I totally get the whole Charlie Sheen addicted to winning thing … I do. My name is Lisa and yes, I’m a winaholic. 

I won the LARGE  GIGANTIC basket, that my friend K just happened to make. I was asked to pull the next winning ticket, because that’s what winners do…we spread the joy. I picked the number of my friend at the table, who also won a basket made by K. Let’s just say the pointing fingers, slanting eyes and jealous comments from the losing side of the room, only enhanced our luck. 

There was way too much positive energy at our table to let the big green monster ruin our fun as we strutted up to collect the next 4 BASKETS and a DOOR PRIZE!  There is nothing like feeling like a freaking Rock Star from Mars! 

Of course the real winner of the evening was Bill. I don’t even know Bill, but I learned something very important about him last night…he is loved by many. The love was evident on all of the faces in the room. It resonated in the delicious food, the beautiful baskets and in Bill’s eyes when he stood next to his wife, who graciously thanked all of us for attending on his behalf.

Thanks to Bill I have a much better understanding of what I’ve been missing in my life….LIVING. Take time to love your family, appreciate your friends, embrace opportunities and ….Enjoy the Ride! 


Whoa…..flying your Freak Flag is exhausting! This weekend started off fairly normal on Friday with food shopping, a dentist appointment, visiting mom and a trip to the Mall with my daughter.  On Saturday I had plans to go see my nephew’s band play at the TLA (Theater of The Living Arts) here in Philadelphia. MACH22 wasn’t hitting the stage until 10:00 pm, so I had to rest up before the big event by chillaxing at the homestead.  I wrapped it up Sunday with the hubby, breakfast and a looooong ride with the top down.

On Saturday I finally finished a book I received for my birthday in February…so pathetic that it’s taken this long. It was the autobiography of Steven Tyler …”Does The Noise In My Head Bother You” a Rock ‘N’ Roll Memoir.  Now, I was never a hardcore Aerosmith fan or anything, but I did master drawing their logo all over my copy books in high school.

Recently I became interested in Steven Tyler after watching an interview he did with Oprah. I was immediately captivated by his honesty, which also resonates throughout this book. If you’re admitting to smoking a comb, yes a comb as in the one you use for your hair, it’s safe to say you’re an open book. The admission was a very nonchalant “I’ve smoked combs for chrissakes.”  Which left me with one question … “How the HELL are you still alive?”

I learned that Steven is not just a Rock Star, he is musically gifted. His father, who studied at Julliard, taught him the importance of listening to the notes. Music runs through his veins and fills his soul…that is passion friends. I think he wears his passion well…looking pretty dam good still ROCKIN out at 64. Dream On indeed!

Next on the Freak Flag agenda…MACH22. My daughter and I headed to the city for the show. Whew and what a show it was! I was standing at the foot of the stage in amazement as I watched Ty bring his Les Paul to life. There was a moment when I was emotional…I just couldn’t believe that the sound coming from that instrument was caused by the hands of my nephew. That guitar was singing a song one chord at a time…dam!

They rocked the faces off of the audience, who were begging LOUDLY for an encore! I really wouldn’t want to be the next band up…that’s for sure.

It was the first time they had merchandise at the show sporting their logo. I was working the room offering FREE boxes of matches to the audience.

Young people are not very receptive to FREE merchandise, they actually seemed scared. It’s not like I was spraying them with perfume for god sakes! However, the doobie smokers were more than happy to receive a free light.

I concluded that the $4.00 bottle of water, ringing ears and newly acquired deafness were well worth the magic I witnessed!

Sunday, the day of rest…NOT, was spent with the top down. The hubby wanted breakfast, but we were slow to move and settled for Brunch at the Washington Crossing Inn.

The Inn is very beautiful and historic. I could have done without seeing the enormous flat screen TV amongst the historic decor, but that’s just me. We were able to dine outside, which was a treat on such a beautiful day. The food was delicious, or as the hubby said “over priced” and the conversations surrounding us delightful.

I am wired for sound and can hear a conversation across the room. This can be very entertaining, especially when a father announces to a table of his peers that he will be saving $17,000 this year because his son is going to commute. He was scared living in a co-ed dorm with half-naked girls walking the halls. Let’s just say that justification probably sounded so much better in his head.

Next stop was through New Hope and then Doylestown where they just happened to be shooting a movie called The North Star. Needless to say we didn’t bring our head shots, so we had no chance of being an extra and were forced to continue along the open road. So long Hollywood….you had your chance.

By this point the sun was blazing, my Freak Flag was practically pleading to be shoved into the closet and I was ready to R E L A X.

All good things must come to an end folks, but some weekends require an ENCORE … Enjoy the Ride! 

Love Me NOT

As I was weeding the garden I discovered something very important about myself…I really love NOT weeding the garden. Of course I continued the dreaded task at hand, while pondering the entire time on all the other things that I love NOT doing. Hmm, I guess I’m not surprised at the list, maybe just the length.

1. I love NOT weeding the garden. (Rashes, Bites & Dirt…it’s not soothing)

2. I love NOT camping. (Amenities people, amenities)

3. I love NOT being on my knees in the dirt. (Retraction: That depends….)

4. I love NOT wearing Crocs. (I’d only be mistaken for a Monster Truck) 

5. I love NOT listening to Country music. (I don’t need to explain myself)

6. I love NOT cooking on hot days. (This could also include warm & cold days)

7. I love NOT being on a schedule. (I enjoyed that ONE time, I really did)

8. I love NOT getting bit by insects. (I’m a human bug buffet)

9. I love NOT shaving my legs in the Winter. (Instant leg warmers)

10. I love NOT watching sports. (It’s like watching a moving math equation)

11. I love NOT being appropriate. (Sorry, there is humor in the good execution of a fart and/or discussion of a fart)

12. I love NOT being Republican. (Please)

13. I love NOT cleaning the bathroom. (Watching the hubby do it is pretty much foreplay)

14. I love NOT being uptight, ridged or having a “stick up my ass” face. (Ugh, miserable f’ers)

15. I love NOT listening to bull shit. (Fabrications to enhance a boring tale are welcome)

16. I love NOT listening to FOX News. (Honestly, there are too many reasons to list)

18. I love NOT having to watch Barney the MOFO dinosaur. (I don’t love you)

19.  I love NOT being PC. (Soooooooo boring)

20. I love NOT wearing underwear. (Wait!  what? … Gotcha)

I loved NOT having to use too many brain cells writing this, which gave me some much needed free time to … Enjoy the Ride!

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