April 1 - why do you only come once a year?

Why not laugh, smile, pull a prank or tell a funny joke every day? My daily goal in life is to laugh - laugh through life. I’d rather laugh than cry besides, I’m pretty ugly when I cry.

We've all heard the cliché "laughter is the best medicine". When I was sick it was easier for me to laugh than take my crappy chemo but I did both. Since then, I have not stopped laughing. The only problem is now that I am getting older, sometimes I pee my pants. That too, makes me laugh.

A few years ago when I moved to California and was friendless, I had to make an effort to find friends. I needed cool/fun/exciting friends like Wacko Judy and Crazy Ange who I had to leave in NY. I thought I was pretty cool but apparently not everyone was willing to take that risk. After ruling out a few Stepford Wives in the area I took a chance and became friends with Carly's Girl Scout leaders.

The "leaders" had a "Bunko" group and soon enough I weaseled my way into their hearts and was able to secure an invite. Another friend was also invited to the open enrollment Bunko session. At the end of the night I had made the cut, she was sent packing - just like American Idol (well, that’s a stretch but she definitely did not get a second invite).

Actually, that was my first and ONLY Bunko experience as the group soon disbanded. After all the scheming, how could it be that our little group was so f*ck9d up, we could not even commit to bunko once a month? Was I going to let this new found friendship faultier? Heck no, I worked hard to infiltrate the click, I knew I had to take action. Thus the name changed from Bunko and became "Funko" (inserted the “f”) and times we even change that “f” to a "d" for Drunko. On Tuesday, it was Drunko night for me at Funko.

One of the ladies offered to drive and pick us up for the Happy Hour festivities, I quickly accepted. Generally, I am the designated driver so this was such a treat for me. We went to happy hour and had $5 Margaritas while playing lots and lots of pool. Of course the real pool sharks got a bit torched but honestly we did not even care. I'm not sure I even heard any of their grumblings over the whoohooo that projected several times from my mouth.

The night was filled with laughing, smiling and bitching. We’ve learned to laugh at our problems because we know everyone else is.

Maybe Billy Joel had a point....."I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints........the sinners are much more fun”?

One thing about my Bunko/Funko/Drunko friends is I can bitch at them, steal their food and then make them go to the bathroom with me. To others in bar they may all look like a bunch of bitches but they are my bitches.

Oh crap, we have visitors coming...

Nothing like a e-mail from a family member with the phrase "we are coming to visit" to get some work around the house done. I've never been one to have a "hunny-do" list but I on my fridge is one with about 10 items on it.
It seems absolutely crazy to feel the need to get things ready for guests. I mean if they really like us, who the heck cares what the house looks like right? WRONG.
Secretly I love when people come to visit because a timeline is set. Things that I want to do around my house get actually done before the clock strikes Nothing like a deadline to make me stop procrastinating and get in gear.
Honestly I do better with a list, I should make one for everyday. I feel so empowered when I can cross one of my list.
When we lived in NY, nothing ever got done on time because no one ever wanted to come visit us. Seriously, what does Western NY have to offer in February other than cold and snow? Now that we have sunshine every day, I can bribe guests to come.
When should I pencil you in for a visit? I need my bathroom remodeled....

Girl Scouts....

I am getting ready to go camping tomorrow with my daughter Carly and her Girl Scout troop. I've packed all that I can as we are sleeping on the dirt (not ground, not grass but DIRT due to construction), in a tent. You are envious - seriously I know. Its going to be such a fucking horrible good time..

I'm not much of a camper... I mean I grew up on 50 acres across the street from the lake, we had cows, horses, chickens. I basically grew up on a camp.

We had to travel at least 45 minutes for a good supermarket but for the most part, the milk delivery guy came up our driveway, dropped off glass milk 1/2 gallons, we had chickens for eggs and my uncles farm for beef. We raised those adorable little calves and chicks from birth only to eat them. Do you know how hard it is to go down in the cellar and get Chip the Chicken out of the freezer and eat him for dinner?

My mom would kick me and my cousins out of the house after breakfast and we basically could not come back until it was lunch time or dinner time. We were not allowed to dare turn on the TV until after supper. There were no electronic gadgets or gizmos. We made our own fun!

I know it sounds like I am complaining about my childhood, actually I loved my childhood!

Now that I'm an old fat kid adult... I just don't want to relive my childhood by camping - its too much work! Get the sleeping bags, tent, clothing, lanterns, dishes, food etc. I pack enough crap for a month even if it is a 2.5 day trip. When we get home, EVERYTHING is dirty whether we wore it or not. It smells like smoke, the items are damp or just all out soaked, it generally rains/snows. Then I get stuck putting everything away and washing clothing for days.

So now I am going with the Girl Scouts this weekend. I'm lucky, there are only 10 preteens that I have to deal with. Only 10 whining, crying, complaining, hormonal bitchy 12 year olds Girl Scouts. It won't be that bad right?

Honestly once I get there, I will have a blast. I won't have to worry about cleaning, shopping, or anything.. I will know that there is nothing better in the world I could possibly be doing except hanging with my daughter.

Its just the prep work. Kinda like the colonoscopy I had a couple years ago. The prep was horrible, the procedure was pretty uneventful.

Oh and by the way, if you are looking for a good time on Friday go here ---->

Only the Good Fridays

I almost waivered...

Today was Wednesday.. Hump day...
So it was almost a given I would go on a date with my husband... Also, Wednesday are my day off from work so double bonus...

We decided to go to up to watch the Anaheim Angels game as they were playing the Yankees!

I thought to myself does it really matter who wins? I mean I live in California now maybe I should support the "home team"... I thought maybe I should bring my Angels Jersey just "in case" it goes the other way...

No, heck now... I'm still a Yankee girl.

Good thing because they won!

Where oh where.....

Where have you been? When will you update your blog?
I was asked those questions the other day and I immediately felt guilt. One more thing on my “to do” list that I have failed miserably at “doing”.
I mean, its not like its that hard, I can type 90+ words a minute. The whole entry might take 5 minutes, 10 if I search for a picture to put up too.
I’ve no excuse… I mean I do but do they really count?
Carly’s birthday
Graduation
Rachael’s birthday
Kid with a tattoo
Kid with a pierced tongue
Yankee Game
NY Trip
Vacation
Meet with old college buddies
Plant garden
Kids off for the summer (no explanation needed)
Not paying attention… another kid with a tattoo
My Birthday (yah, I get another one )
Work
Wedding in Denver
Rachael College
Nick College
Carly back to school
Float and Fick party
Ah…. Normalicy…..
When I ask - do those excuses “count”?
I mean, they really don’t as everyone has a busy life but some (most) manage to do a lot more than I do plus BLOG.

I made myself a 10 year plan, a 5 year plan, 1 year plan and 90 day plan about 8 months ago. So far I am on track for the 5 & 10 year goal. The 1 year and 90 day has been pushed out the window. I did accomplish some of the 90 day goals (tiled the downstairs, put in a garden) but all in all I really did not make a dent in the list. I think I need a new list. Or, maybe I need to make an executive decision and say that those excuses “count”.
Yup, that’s it… those excuses are hereby approved and seconded (by my puppy Stella) and therefore it is written, stamped and passed. NEXT!
This corporation I’m running has to streamline it’s (my) agenda. No more guilt, validation has been made. Starting tomorrow I will be getting a 100% raise (hmm.. 100% raise of $0 is $0) but hopefully my sanity benefits will kick in before 90 days.

I turn my back for one second...

He said.... "Mom, I'm going with Tori to look for a surfboard" and I figure, no harm right?

I mean, he's got 5 boards already so I figured he wasn't in the market for a new board and it would be ok if he went...

I swear, it was just a short time that lost contact with him... maybe four hours.

LOOK what this rotton son/kid did....

Once they start earning their own money, they think they need to spend it on himself when he should be saving their money so he can take care of me when I'm old.

I told him I think it says "Dumbass" or "My Momma's a Hottie"... I think it might say both.

All I do know is my "baby" is so grounded....

Never a dull moment

Apparently all the rules are off now that Rachael is 18.

Yesterday's adventure was off to get her tounge pierced.

Today's adventure is off to the tattoo parlor.

Gosh this girl keeps me crazy...

I guess there are worse things.

Happy Birthday Rachael

Go June! No really go away.

Good thing June only comes once a year as it has been insane.
June involved me getting laid off from my part time job to which I replied ... seriously???? Only to be rehired within 5 minutes...... Then we moved Nick home from college (he is such a slob), next was awards for Carly's school, followed by 6th grade Olympics at the Junior High, Carly's 12 year old birthday, Chuck's sister Nancy and Fast Eddie coming out from NY, Rachael passing her driver's test (yikes), Rachael's HS graduation of only 681 kids, an Angel's baseball game (Padres so suck) and finally last night - Rachael's graduation party.

“Mom, I'm only inviting 50 (200) of my closest friends” pleaded my lovely daughter. If you have ever lived in a Cali subdivision (think Weeds on Showtime), you will know that the lots here are pretty small. Throw in a 30x26' pool and they are even smaller.

The kids for the most part were great, very polite, very respectful, and even initiated conversations when I went out for my "patrols". The party involved about 8 "dance off" sessions on the lawn, a lot of pictures being taken, a cleverly hidden Tequila bottles and I'm pretty sure there was something being smoked (evident by the homemade Aquafina water bottle bong found in the trashcan at clean up this morning). All in all , the kids were pretty well behaved all 50 (200) off them. Now as in any situation, there is always at least one exception.

A girl named Kylie (not one of the 50 invited ) never even made it to the actual backyard party, just decided to come to our house and promptly vomit all over the bathroom. It was about 11:30 pm and midnight was the cut off for the party anyway so I decided the best thing to do was to call her mom (hello Kylie's mom, I realize you don't know me but could you come and pick up your 3.9 honor student? Kylie had numerous friends willing to take her home but I thought no - not a good idea. Her mom was very embarrassed adding that her daughter had just come off "restriction" and that this was her first night “out”. Apparently restriction just gave Kylie 2 months to “recharge”.

In the commotion, the Po Po arrived, come on admit it, it’s not a good party until the police show up. It’s amazing how fast a party clears out when the police arrive.... Those kids can scurry like rats when badges walk in. We talked with the police for a few moments then they left and Chuck and I had the house mopped and the yard cleaned up by 12:30 AM. Our patrol/cleaning lady shift ended much earlier than I had anticipated. I figured if I said the party ended midnight, I would still be kicking kids out at 1 AM.

After all was said and done I headed to the freezer in the garage and to my surprise I found two extremely cold Rolling Rock bottles that SOMEONE kindly placed in there. Its like someone put those two beers in there just for Chuck and I. I am sure if I asked if they belonged to someone, no one would have fessed up so I didn’t even bother. I just cracked the top and enjoyed.

I have plans started for July – we are off to NY again for a Yankees game and time with family at the cottage but there are still 10 days in June, 1/3 of the month and I don’t have a thing to do… any ideas?

Everyone has a story...

For years I have read the obituaries. I read them in at home, the town where I was born and sometimes, when I'm on vacation, I glance at them. My husband asked me why I read the obituaries pointing out I really know very few people here in Oceanside and if they did in fact die then I would be sure to know about their death therefore I would not have to read about it.


Maybe its because I grew up in a small town and when a "local" died, I would still read their obit even though I probably knew their whole lifestory. My parents did the same, after our dinner while I cleared the table my mom would read the Rome Sentinel out loud for my dad and me. She felt we needed to be brought up to speed on from everything such as home sales, any bankruptcy, who did not pay their taxes - you know the "gossip" . Generally I could care a less about that nonsense but when she read the obituaries, my hearing perked up a bit and I definitely listened a little better. She would go on and say "oh so and so died", did you know that he/she was married to so and so and she is so and so's blank and they live in so and so. Usually her reporting ended with "oh, that's to bad, he/she was a "good egg". A good egg? I used to think that was an odd comparison but non the less, he/she was a good egg.

We all were born, we all will die. My father used to say nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes. . I know, he stole the line from Ben Franklin but he ALWAYS used to say it like he was the original author.

About 6 years ago, I went home to visit my parents for the weekend before they started school the next week. I remember sitting at the kitchen table reading the local paper while my dad enjoyed a cup of coffee. My dad had had a rough ride lately and he was trying to regain his strength from a stroke he had a year prior. I looked at my dad and said that there was "good news" (in the paper). He asked what the good news was and I said I was reading the obituaries and he wasn't in it. My dad laughed and replied that yes indeed that was good news. Three days later, my dad died and 5 days later my his name was in the obituaries. I read his obituary even though I so knew his "story".

My point is that for 100% of the people I read about in the obits, they ALL have a story. They all were born, some of they were given a silver spoon, some of them got a plastic spork. One of the things I notice most often when I read the obits is if they were "young" and when I say young, I mean younger than me (obviously that criteria changes yearly). When I see someone who is 90, I actually feel very happy because I feel that they had a long life and they must have had a lot of fun living it or at least I hope they did. Not everyone gets that chance, some die long before they get that chance.

I like to believe that everyone has a story and each and everyone of them loved and was loved by someone. Someone who will miss them very much so. Have you ever thought about writing your own obit?

I remember sitting with my Mom and brother on dad's bed trying hard to "sum" up his life in 4 paragraphs. 19 weeks later, I remember sitting on the same bed with just my brother trying to do the same for my mother. It was very hard, and I'm sure I missed quite a few "key" points that should have been noted.

All I know is that I loved them very much as someone does for those strangers I read about. Everyone has a story, I sure hope mine ends with "she was a good egg".