Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Catherine Lavin Collins Leonard

My Grandmother Leonard was the oldest of 8 children and came from a 100% Irish Catholic family we affectionately call the Collins Clan. She married James Leonard and had my dad in 1940 and another son Brian in 1946. My grandfather Leonard passed away from complications of pneumonia in 1948. Grandma went to work in the city to support her family. She sent my Uncle Brian to live with her parents in Wilkes Barre, PA and lived in the Oranges in NJ with my dad. She commuted every day into NYC and worked as a secretary. She never remarried -- dad implies that he would scare of any suitors (issues for therapist I am sure) and she found her solice at the Jersey Shore.

In 2004, my Grandmother Leonard (I called her Grandma-ma)turned 90. My dad arranged for a party to celebrate and also created a book for her full of memories and pictures he collected from the family. Yesterday he sent me a copy of what he wrote for the book. I love it - every word. Not just for the memories and stories but for the words with which he concludes the entry. My Grandma-ma passed away February 2007 and my father has not been the same. I think the following explains why:

Memories of Mom

I remember a little boy in a sailor suit with this beautiful woman. The little boy thought the necklace was real jewels.

I remember going to Brooklyn Navy Yard Hospital to see my new cousin. They would not let in the room so I left the waiting area and snuck outside. I then found my way to the window to Aunt Gloria’s room much to their surprise.

I remember Mom trying to console me when I cut through my brand new confirmation suit while trying to remove the tags. Of course, it was the night before the ceremony and no way to repair it properly.

I remember the night I put my wrist through a door window trying to get in the laundry room. It was time to add the bleach to the wash. I walked back to the apartment streaming blood with the jar of Clorox in the other hand. Uncle Bob yelled “Get to the kitchen sink - you are tracking blood on the rug.” We went down the street to the doctor’s. While the doctor was cleaning up the wound, Mom had me practice my Latin. I just become an altar boy. The doctor hit something and it hurt. I then cussed in Italian and Mom said that’s not altar boy Latin.

I remember my friend’s wolf whistling at Mom from the park when I was walking her to confession. They didn’t believe it was my Mother until she verified it. They thought it was some hot babe I had met.

I remember when Mom found a cigarette in my scout uniform after returning from a camping trip. She said something like, “what is this?” I gave a smart ass answer and she hit me on the shoulder. I laughed at her since it did not hurt. She then said, “stand here.” She went and got a wooden hanger and hit me on the collar bone which drove me to the floor. I never laughed at her hitting me after that.

I remember some of the guy’s whistling at my eagle ceremony because Mom’s skirt kept climbing up and showing her slip as she walked up on stage. She was not aware of it until later.

I remember meeting her when she got back from Rome and we all went to early Mass at St. Pat’s with the bottles of wine clinking all the way down the aisle.

I often wondered how she weathered some of the ill winds fate has directed her way. I now know it is because of her faith and her family. I can remember when she used to say her prayers in the bathroom because she could have a light on to read her novenas. That way the light would not disturb Brian and me. The was no door on the bedroom.

I can remember her being so sick she could not get out of bed but she did get up and go to Sunday Mass. The only time I remember her not making it to Mass was after major dental surgery. Her face was so swollen she could not open her eyes. Uncle Bob called the doctor.

As for the Collins family, I am sure one bathroom and eight children help the “bonding”. The Big Depression and World War II had to bring the family closer. There was less to share but enough to go around. I remember Pop saying how lucky he was in that he had a job that paid $8.00 a week. Gram baking pies and bread, making relish and canning vegetables. As for the war, the “boys” were in it and that meant lots of prayers everyday.

I remember in later years at 326, the family praying the rosary after dinner. It seemed such a natural thing to do.

My memories are many but most of all was Mom’s love ever present and enfolding. It warded off the monsters under the bed, guided during the growing years and sustained me during the years in Vietnam.

It is one of life’s drawbacks that you can never give love back in the same quantity as a Mother gives her child. I will be eternally grateful that God was so good to me by letting her be my Mom.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Elementary Watson

Day 20: A hobby of mine

For some reason the word hobby congers up images of stamp collecting or model making -- both of which are very legitimate hobbies but of absolutely no interest to me. I briefly considered soccer as a hobby but to me soccer is more than a hobby (or at least it used to be). I think I am just hung up on the word hobby. Say it over and over and it is kind of annoying - hobby hobby hobby hobby. I don't collect anything nor have any interest in much that is artsy crafty. I actually looked up the definition to see if I was inspired and found this: an activity or interest pursued for pleasure or relaxation and not as a main occupation.

What does this trash magazine reading (love US Weekly and Glamour), Rom Com Sandra Bullock loving, TV watching, Harry Potter reading girl like to do with her spare time for pleasure? My mind went all sorts of ways with this question but keeping in mind this is for my children I went with the nerdy route.

I do puzzle games. Not the jigsaw kind but the electronic kind - Sudokus, Free Cell, and I am currently addicted to Sherlock. I play to the point of annoying my husband. Sadly the Sherlock game on my phone actually tabulates the total amount of time spent playing the game since I got it and I have played over 25 hours worth of Sherlock on my phone. I got the game in March.

I find it very odd about myself that I am such a non-cerebral person that I get such a kick out of the brainiac challenges. I actually do all the mensa puzzles in the back of the American Way magazine when I fly.

This will shock the heck out of all of you -- On the GRE my strongest score where I only missed a few questions was actually the logic section. I scored frighteningly higher on it than on the other two sections. CRAZY right??!

Please do not mistake that I think I am some genius or have delusions of secretly being a rocket scientist in disguise. I just laugh at the irony of me being such a fan of the fluffy and yet choosing to spend my time working my brain on puzzles.

Monday, April 25, 2011

I Don't Think I Really Answered the Question

Day 19: A fun memory

Truth be told I have been procrastinating on this one. I just can't come up with one. Not that I don't have fun memories -- I do -- lots actually but trying to translate them into a blog AND make them interesting is quite a challenge for me. I am also dreading the true funny story -- REALLY don't know what to do there. OK...lets deal with today's post.

Hmmm...I'll try the random rambling approach that seems to suit me...

My first memory -- riding in the back seat of my Uncle Brian's car with my cousin Becky. He pulled over to pick up a hitch hiker. The hitch hiker was an African American guy with a humongous afro. I remember the afro actually touching the roof of the car. Later in life when I told my uncle and dad this story - they guess I was about 3.

Humilitating childhood memory -- toss up between two:
1. Got up in the middle of my first communion (front row joe) to go to the bathroom which was in the back of the parish hall. The whole congregation thought I was sick.
2. In middle school I had a soccer game on Halloween and at practice before my team decided that we should come made up in Halloween make up. Sadly, I was the only one that showed up in a painted made up face. No one else did.

Memories that make me smile:
- My bi-level haircut in jr high -- really thought I was the stuff
- Fish Fry's during Lent at St. Annes
- My baby pink Jessica McClintock dress and Julia Roberts big hair for Junior Prom -- the prettiest I had felt to that point in my life -- the pictures are hilarious! God bless the 80's
- Working summers at Worlds of Fun
- My 21st birthday...well what little I remember of it...21 shots for a 21 year old girl. No Taco Bell for me that night.
- Float trips down the Buffalo River in AR with my WOF friends
- Raider Awakening...16, 17, 18, & 19...

Not to be to mushy and disgusting but most of the trips I have taken with Chad have been wonderfully fun memories:
- Arizona and Canyon DeChelly - our first out of state trip I think
- Banff, Alberta and eating dinner at 10 pm when the sun is still up
- Waco and the Cotton Palace - Happy Anniversary! :)
- Italy!! Oh and the rest of Europe. Chad got to show me where he lived and show me "his" Italy.
- All our trips to NJ and PA - Espinoza's and Sizzle Pi
- McDonald Observatory - Chad showed me the stars like I have never seen them before
- St. Johns...one of my favorites for more reasons I can list

Soooo back to a fun memory. Really not sure what to put - our family vacation to Sea World and South Padre in 2010, our wedding, going to Silver Dollar City in 1982, going to my Grandma Lee's house, going to college -- I guess it boils down to I am very blessed and have too many to pick from. For that I am grateful.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Aliens vs Midgets

Little bit of drama in the Martin household the week of April 10th. It started like this:

Sunday the 10th:
I have a little earache. Very curious – I don’t recall ever having an earache ever in my life.

Monday the 11th:
I wake up and my ear still hurts but it’s an ear ache – I can handle it. Midday my boss is annoyed telling me it is an ear infection and to go to the doctor. By 3:30 I can’t handle it and go to the doctor. He says – “yes it is an ear infection caused by a viral upper respiratory infection. Nothing to do but manage the pain since it is a virus.” He prescribes some hydrocodone and sends me on my way.

Tuesday the 12th:
Not great. I am chaperoning Z’s field trip to Safety Town (way cool place by the way!!). The hydrocodone doesn’t seem to work so I take ibuprofen on top of it. I some how survive the 2 hr field trip and head home instead of work. The pain has intensified to something I can’t even explain. All I keep thinking is – don’t babies get ear infections all the time? Am I such a wimp that I can’t handle what a baby can??? Get home take more hydrocodone and within 20 mins I start vomiting. YAY. So Tuesday afternoon is more than hell for me – my ear hurts so bad nothing will help – not laying down, not standing up, not sitting down, not being still, not moving around and I am still throwing up. I believe I actually got delirious from the pain.

I throw in the towel about 7pm and make Chad take me to the ER. He packs up the kids and me and off we go – if being at home hurt – the car ride was the hell express – every bump, turn, sound – agonizing. We get to the hospital and I am so close to relief that it feels like hours before they see me. At some point LuLu and Damon pick the kids up (in all seriousness – Leigh Anne I have no words to truly express how grateful I am that you came without a pause. THANK YOU – I love you!!)

The PA comes in asks what the problem is and then looks in my ear – he then tugs and says does this hurt and pokes and says does this hurt – is he kidding????? I am in my freakin pajamas, smelling like vomit, weeping from the pain – YES it hurts – quit touching my ear! He then asks “when did the fever start?” I can only imagine the look I gave him at that point. I say “I have a fever?” He said it was 101 and when did it start. I don’t think I cussed at him out loud but in mind I screamed “My head is going to explode – I have spent the last 8 hours vomiting – you really think I stopped to take my F’n temperature??????”

Blah blah blah…so the nurse gives me an IV (after only two attempts which is impressive since I was so dehydrated) and gives me some Demerol. OOoooohh I like me some Demerol. Seriously within seconds my ear pain was gone and I just wanted to sleep. So I got an IV of antibiotics because the ER doc says I have swimmer’s ear (really???) and a middle ear infection and it is bacterial not viral and about an hour later another shot of the Demerol. I am sent home.

Wednesday the 13th:
We get home about 1:30 am with new drugs and my ear is now leaking fluid. Yes gross. I take the medicine and do not awake (other than for potty and medication breaks) until 4:00 pm Thursday.

Thursday the 14th:
My ear is still literally dripping yellow grossness but I feel so much better that I tell God I will walk around for the rest of my life with a cotton ball in my ear to catch the goo if I do not ever have to feel like that again.

Friday the 15th:
Go to work – still dripping but feeling OK. Go to the ENT for a follow up and he looks in and says oh you busted your ear drum – that is why you are leaking. He said that it would close up soon and all will be sunshine and rainbows. And the leaking did stop on Monday the 18th.

So I tell you this VERRRRRY long story for two reasons:
1. To justify why I haven’t blogged in a while
2.Because the IV left an almost perfectly 2” x 2” square bruise on the middle of my forearm which is the REAL introduction to this blog.

The WEIRDEST stuff happens to aboynamedstu. I refer to Stuart a lot in this blog for many reasons, one of which is I admire his style and blog, and another is because the craziest things happen in his life. He recently had a post that involved a cashier calling his friend a very inappropriate name and the situation that followed still makes me shake my head. (please read it if you get the chance Boyz in the Hood ) If I didn’t know better, I would say he makes it up but the best part of it all is that he doesn’t!!!!

Anyway, the post lead me to comment to Stuart that he really has the funniest/bizarre/craziest stuff happen in his world. He responded saying that crazy stuff happens to all of us but he just knows how to mine it and retell it. Which I will agree with him but only to a point.

I questioned myself - do I keep my head down and miss the funniest/bizarre/craziest that happens around me? Do I just need to pay attention more to my surroundings and I’ll see how it happens to me too? Do I just need to shop in Richardson?

So I did a little experiment. This bruise on my arm really is odd. It is seriously almost a perfect square. I start creating stories in my head of what weird event could have caused this bruise. I want to make it completely outlandish. I started going down the alien route – I had been abducted by aliens and I fought against them so much they had to use a weird restraint and it left a bruise. But I couldn’t get the story to flow.

Friday morning at work, I was refilling my water bottle when CoWorker A came in, saw the bruise, and asked what happened. I was so excited here was my chance – I looked down at the bruise and started “Well, as you know on Wed nights I referee midget wrestling…” when CoWorker B (who knew the truth) came in, saw me pointing to my bruise, and said “isn’t that the weirdest bruise – maybe it was the IV tape? You could be allergic” and blew my story. CoWorker A was briefly confused and then said oh the ear thing, etc.

I was disappointed. For the rest of the weekend, I was as obvious about the bruise as I could be. I made sure every cashier saw it and every parent at the soccer game saw it and no one asked about it.

I received opportunity number 2 on Monday. We were having issues with our ID cards and the security system so I was stuck briefly on an elevator with CoWorker C. She said “OMG – what on earth happened to your arm??” With a straight face I said, “I was refereeing midget wrestling this weekend, I do it to make some extra cash, and one of the midgets got out of control and accidentally took me down and stepped on me with his boot heel. It was wild.”

She did nothing. Not a smile or laugh, not a “are you crazy?” look, not even a “you don’t have to be a rude because I asked bitch!” look. The elevators opened and she started with “this is so weird that our cards don’t work – should we go to security?”

I told Chad about it that night. He thought it was funny that I actually told the story and even more hilarious that I would use the un-pc word midget rather than little person (little person wrestling doesn’t sound right) and he figures CoWorker C thinks I am rude.

My point is this:

I truly believe that had this scenario been played out in Stuart’s life that he would have gotten some reaction out of someone. I realize that it can even be awkward to ask someone about a random bruise especially if you don’t know them but I bet if Stuart had it – 30 people would have asked him “WTH?”

I am saddened that my little non-scientific experiment didn’t yield the results I had hoped to. Oh well. I will just keep reading Stuart’s blog and enjoying the entertainment that is his life.

You know though, my bruise is still kind of visible – maybe I just need to head to Richardson and do a little shopping with my arm up!

Thursday, April 7, 2011

I Don't Remember Z This Tiny

Day 18: A baby photo

I have spent the last hour going through all of our 2005 and 2006 photos searching for just the right one of Z. While I didn't know what photo I would post, I did know I wanted it to be of Zachary. Chad said I should post one of me but I really don't have anything to say about the picture other than the date. If I post one of Z, I have lots to say. I got completely sucked in to the pictures (Chad sat with me for awhile) and we laughed and got sentimental. After an hour I just decided since I make up the rules for this challenge, I will post more than one.

Over six years ago, this beautiful amazing little soul was given as a gift to our family:


MK meeting Z for the first time

No books, no classes, no advice can prepare you for that moment - becoming a parent. Cliche but true. I was overwhelmed with love, worry, adoration, fear, responsibility, and awe. Truth be told while these emotions do ebb and flow - I still have each of them when I look at my kids.

I was such a mess with Z. It is ALMOST funny thinking back on it and of course seeing the pictures tonight brought it all back:

* The car ride home from the hospital - I sat in the back seat in case he might need something during the brief ride home and Chad didn't drive one mile over the speed limit.

* His bassinet was in the "far" corner of our bedroom. I was worried I wouldn't hear him if there was a problem or if he stopped breathing. So after his first night at home, I moved his bassinet to be flush against my side of the bed. My head could pop up and seem him as often as I wanted.

* His first bath - OMG -- how did he survive?! Chad - don't get the embilical cord wet! Chad - he's cold cover him up! Chad - you didn't wash his neck rolls! Chad - did you get all the soap rinsed? Zachary screamed the entire time which freaked me out. The pictures are only funny now then I was horrified.

* My mom stayed with us the first week he was born and was sweet enough to make us dinner so we could have date night in our kitchen while she babysat in the living room. I actually made my mother put the monitor base next to Zachary while I had the receiver in the kitchen. Our house was 1800 sq ft and the living room was right off the kitchen -- I am sure I insulted my mom with that request.

* Nursing. Ugh. What a production. I made my husband shell over lots of money for a lactation consultant. My mom even paid for one visit. Z didn't latch properly so I was trying to nurse for about ten minutes a feeding, then when he didn't latch I would give him a bottle, burp him, put him down, and then pump for 20 mins. It was emotionally exhausting. I was hysterical about it. I even poured water into unused diapers, heated them in the microwave, and put them on my breasts to encourage milk production. Seriously. By the way not my idea -- it was from the lacation consultant. Finally at 5 1/2 weeks, he got it. And my life grew a heck of a lot easier.

* When my mat leave was over, I told Chad I didn't think I could go back to work. How could I let someone else raise my child? What kind of mother would I be if I put this life in the care of another? I told Chad we had to come up with a plan. He talked me off the ledge and said that why don't we plan for me to go back now and when kiddo #2 came along, I could stay at home with both of them. The distraction worked. I would have been the suckiest of all sucky stay at home moms. I applaud SAHMs - I think they are wonderful but I am not one of them.

The difference between Zachary's birth and coming home and Rylee's is quite amusing:
* Rode in the front seat home
* OK she did sleep next to my bed still
* While she did cry too during her first bath, I am actually smiling and laughing in the pictures. No looks of horror on my face
* We actually LEFT the house for a date - See ya' MiMi! Good luck with those kids!
* She latched first thing in the recovery room at the hospital
* Never even crossed my mind once that I wanted to stay at home -- suckiest of sucky remember?

This post didn't exactly go as I thought. I really wanted to tell the story of Z's birth but it really should come from Chad's perspective. I had too many drugs -- everything was la-la and fuzzy for me.

Rather than A Baby Photo here are Some Baby Photos:


Those are stork bites on his eye lids. They faded but you could still see them until he was about four when he would get hot or cry or mad.


Chad took a series of photos in rapid succession so if you flip through them really fast it looks like they are moving. This photo is one in the series.


Adore this photo -- which it hadn't turned out so dark and grainy. My sweet Martin men taking a nap. LOVE IT.


This photo was my stock photo for awhile sending to anyone I knew whether they wanted to see it or not. I even sent it to the hospital (yes I was little coo-coo)with a thank you note to the nursing staff.


Here is the baby photo - Introducing Zachary James Martin, born at 9:32 am on Thursday, February 17, 2005. Weighing 7lbs 10oz and 20" long. Healthy boy and proud parents.

We still are.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

MK's Fam - aren't we cute?!

Day 17: A photo of my family



This picture is a RIOT! I am thinking I am six or seven -- that makes Jamey two or three which means the year is about 1978 or 1979. In turn my mom is 28/29 (10 years younger than I am now) and my dad is 38/39 - my age right now. It is kind of weird for me in that Marty McFly kind of way. Realizing my dad in my current age in the photo and trying to imagine what was going on in his brain. He certainly seemed to the 1st grader me much more mature and responsible then than I feel right now. And my mom?? She hadn't even turned 30 yet - I was living a very different life than hers when I was 28!

And here we are at another example of why this blog is important. Someday when the kids are older (like out of the house older not teenagers older) they will read this blog and hopefully have a better understanding of their parents. They can see us more than rule makers, disciplinarians, and dream killers -- they will know we have fears, doubts, and want them to be happy. They will know that we loved them with a passion and intensity that comes from parents. They will also see we are very human. It is a shocking discovery when that happens but I am hoping their aha moment brings them understanding.

So dearest Rylee and Zachary -- here is our sweet little family:



This is from Father's Day 2010 in the traditional Father's Day pose at Prince of Peace except I am actually in this photo - usually I am not. I am 37, Daddy is 36, Z is 5 and Rylee is not quite 2. I love our family.

The juxtaposition of the two photos is mind blowing for me -- I realize not for anyone else but the girl in photo 1 and the woman in photo 2 can not possibly be the same person. It is wild how I became the parent in the photo. At least the clothes in the Martin family photo look good.

MK's Food Ramblings

Day 16: A favorite food

I have been procrastinating on this entry. Favorite food??? I realize that the point of the exercise is creativity and there really is no right or wrong way to answer the challenge but favorite food? Can there be an interesting favorite food blog post? OK yes there can be -- just not written by me.

I even discussed this with Chad ahead of time which I haven't done with any other challenge posts (I let him be as surprised as you!) because I was annoyed. Food is very situational and to pick one of my favorites seems kind of boring and impossible. Whether picking a very specific item Sizzle Pi T-Rex pizza or deciding between Mexican and Indian - my tastes change based on the day and the moment.

I looked at Chad and scrunched my face and used a weird voice and said "one of my favorite foods is buttercream icing and vanilla cake. Now let the oooing and ahhing over the interesting blog post begin." I sensed he was not amused and I said "I can't think of a funny post related to a favorite food." He said it didn't have to be funny. I said but it should be interesting.

He suggested trying nostalgia. OK...memories of food...hhhmmm...Peach Nehi comes to mind. Loved Peach Nehi. Makes me think of summers with my aunt in Claremore, OK. My mom made whole wheat pizza most every Friday growing up -- I liked that. My mom also made fried spaghetti that was definitely a favorite.

But my childhood is tainted by the heath food kick my mom went on when I was little. I do not remember when it actually started or when it stopped but it feels like my whole childhood was about no sugar, no salt, no white flour, and did I say no sugar??? We ate NutriGrain cereal for breakfast i.e. bran flakes, had GNC peanut butter on whole wheat bread for lunch, carob covered bananas for snack, and salad with radishes for dinner. If you don't know what GNC peanut butter is let me enlighten you. It is smashed peanuts and that is about it. When you open the container there is about an inch of oil at the top and you have to stir it before you use it. And you don't know what carob is? Fake chocolate. Fake not sweet chocolate. Gross fake not sweet chocolate.

Our Christmas stockings had oranges and apples. Every kid's Christmas dream.

When I would stay the night with my friend Kat, I would use any excuse to eat cereal there -- she had ALL the good ones - Lucky Charms, Fruit Loops, Cookie Crisp. Even more pathetic, I would give my little brother money and he would go to the store near our house and buy sugar cereals. We would hide it under my bed so my mom wouldn't find it.

I remember only two trips to McDonalds from my childhood - once in the summer before first grade for my party and once in 5th grade for a field trip. However, eating out was very important to my dad. He felt it forced Jamey and me to learn how to behave in public. We went to nicer places like this restaurant called Plums down the road or another restaurant on a hill - I thought it was called Shadow Mountain but I think that is actually a rehab facility -- where I have a vivid memory of Jamey just tilting his head back and going to sleep - mouth open and all. I dreaded these nights. They took forever and the adults never talked to the kids. I would get so excited when the coffee arrived because I knew it meant dinner was almost over and we could go home.

My mom also packed green bell peppers in my lunch. Come on Mom! What on earth were you thinking??? They made my locker stink so badly every day and they were warm and wilty by lunch time -- do you really think I ate them?? You would have thought I would have learned to pull them out before school and throw them away instead I just moved all my other stuff in to another locker and kept my lunch in the original.

When I was on my own after college, I actually started buying jars of creamy peanut butter and having a REAL PB&J as often as possible. Not because I was poor but because Jif creamy peanut butter tasted like heaven. One of my roommates was put off by my peanut butter habit but she drank pickle juice with salt so I feel like there was no room for judging.

I am not a big seafood gal either. What sealed the deal is when we were in Italy the summer of 2004 we stopped in the Cinque Terre area and had dinner in a beautiful Italian coast town. Being on the coast, the dishes were all seafood. I must also mention I was about 8 weeks pregnant and nauseous hit randomly but hard. So we order our meals and they waiter sets them in front of us -- Chad's fish and my prawns were not just whole but had the eyeballs and antenna still attached. Oh my gosh I am gagging just writing about this. UGH UGH UGH -- Chad is lucky I did not vomit on his shoes. I just haven't been able to really do seafood since. I also don't eat Subway -- not because of fish but because of the same trip and morning sickness -- ick!

It seems I have turned this into Day 16: MK's Least Favorite Food. Let me see if I can salvage this post. Other than seafood, there isn't a particular type of food I stay away from other than maybe exotic -- I haven't eaten bugs or brains or cow's liver and have no need to. I craved cookies and cream shakes when pregnant with Zachary and store bought in the gallon jug chocolate milk with Rylee. Still can do the shakes but I don't care for chocolate milk. OK OK OK -- trying to stay with the positive:

I could go with the cheesy answer - one of my favorite foods is anything I eat with my family or anything Chad cooks but that really isn't the mood I am in tonight.

Let's try this - I love food and despite my long list of dislikes, I really am flexible. I have a humongous sweet tooth and love breakfast for dinner. Spinach dip and chips and queso are my favorite snacks. I love food from the east coast (talking to you Espinozas) everything bagel w/ egg and cheese, taylor ham, jersey subs, Texas wieners, Sizzle Pi, and disco fries. But can you beat TexMex?? That is a tough call. Tell you what, the next time you want to grab dinner together, I would love to go but you have to pick the place.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

It is my song...

And hide the rule book throw it in the waste
Look strong
Like you belong cause you do belong
Whether right or wrong you belong

I'm on your side if you fail at least you tried
To keep your aching celebrating wonder making heart alive
Yeah and pride don't keep it all inside
Don't keep your aching celebrating wonder making heart alone
Write you own song

So here's a preview shove it under old-new
Or call it rock or pop or Bach or fuck
Goddamn where did we go wrong
Now there's a catergory for every song

Yeah we only want to sing when we want to
Yeah we only want a dream we can flaunt to
Yeah we only want to fly by the side making love to the rhythm be a Jekyll and a Hyde
Yeah we only want a field we can run through
Yeah we only want a beat we can drum to
Yeah we only want to fly by the side making love to the rhythm be a Jekyll and a Hyde

Gonna wake up strong ya we're all gonna wake up strong...
Justin Furstenfeld

CMM - thanks for doing this with me...life - all of it...never was a luckier girl

Monday, April 4, 2011

But Angelina Jolie Could Turn Me into a Lesbian

Day 15: My celebrity crush

I already answered this one in the beginning of the challenge. My celebrity crush is Sandra Bullock. I would love to hang out with her for the weekend - sit on her porch in Austin - drink a beer and chill the whole time.

Seeing that I have an aversion to short blogs, I will continue with: I am a legitimate four degrees away from Sandra Bullock. In October of 2009, I met and became friends with someone whose son is good friends with one of Sandra's long time friends. I was so giddy when I figured that out -- I call my friend LK and she can call her son and then he makes a call and then one more call and there is my crush.

I would NEVER EVER EVER in a million years even jokingly say anything to LK. I have been overly sensitive (shocking) about her very publicly known son. I try to avoid talking about him in fact which is stupid because I ask my other friends about their kids but this just seems different.

However at one girl's night gathering, after a couple of glasses of prosecco, mention to LK that I heard on the radio she was going to be a grandma again. She laughed and said she was excited but please don't ask the other question. I had no clue what she was talking about and she said the "marriage" question - she didn't know if he was going to get married. I told I didn't care but that it felt weird to hear this news on the radio and then see her son on People magazine or US weekly. She was so gracious and said she was used to it. I felt like a total stupid dork.

Since that evening, I have never brought it up again. I ask about her grandkids and her other "bonus" kids (her words) but not him. Ridiculous I know -- over analyzing I know but I won't do it. I felt cheezy and trashy while I am sure she didn't give it another thought.

Unless there is more prosecco involved then I may mention Sandra.

MK's "Old" In-Laws

Day 14: An old photo

So my in-laws would NOT be pleased that I classified this as an "old" photo. I thought about googling something from way back when but it didn't have any meaning. I did find a high school photo of my great Aunt Alice (from the early 1930's) on the internet (WILD!!!). I did contemplate putting my mom's parents wedding photo or I have this picture of my Grandma Leonard and she is STUNNING!

However I decided on this one. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to frame this picture and put it out but my MIL would KILL me...really she would:



Such greatness is this photo!! Kind of Bonnie and Clyde-ish if you will. It is probably 1967 or 1968 before they were married. I am blessed with fantastic in-laws and this picture makes me laugh out loud everytime. Can't you just picture yourself hanging out with them?! Can't you just see this framed on my wall next to the Olan Mills photos?? LOVE IT!

Friday, April 1, 2011

MK Wants a lot of Things...and a Pony

Day 13: Something I want to buy

New chairs for the dining room
Skydiving lessons
A convertible car for playing
An African safari
A size six dress
A new bedroom suite
A six week Spanish immersion class
A pool that is 100% safety guaranteed -- no little kid worries
Housekeeping service (I'll throw in lawn service for Chad)
Stylish AND comfortable show shoes
Brazilian Blowouts every eight weeks
Airplane flying lessons
Vacation in Australia

But currently saving for college tuition and retirement suck up my extra cash so the above items will just stay on my Christmas list for now.