Can You Smell That?
Current mood: adventurous
Category: Sports

Depressing as it is, I must confess I didn't quite make it to the goal that I boldly and somewhat naively set last year in 

THIS BLOG

*sigh* 
Yep, that was a few months and one broken foot ago.  

But I am happily back on the horse and recommited to getting smaller.  Smaller is good.

Still, there's no way around it.  I HATE working out.  The gym is not exactly a party for me, so I look for anything that will distract me and pass the time. 

So yesterday I did my stint on the weight machines, building up my pathetically weak upper body strength on the circuit, before heading for a half hour on that elliptical thingy.  Yeah, I got the gym lingo down.  You should see me in spandex.

 Anyway, I get on and glance over at the guy next to me, a Buff Older Guy who obviously spends little more time at the gym than I do.  
 

BOG gives me a big smile and an upnod.  So I smile back and adjust my iPod and get busy.

*screeching tire sound*

WHOA.

It takes all of 30 seconds to catch a whiff of BOG.





JUST.
COMPLETELY.
FOUL.


Obviously he forgot step 3 of the pre-gym regimen:

1) Brush teeth
2) Check for eye boogers
3) Slap on copious amounts of deorderant

That 3 is really the most important one.
Now that I think of it, it should be 1.

Come on, there's an entire brand of products dedicated to helping older gentleman not stink.




Anyway, that dude had some SERIOUS stank going. 
I'm just sayin'...


Anyway, I ignored it as best I could, cranking up my tunes and going about my business.  I got bored and went to walk the track, where I was actually having a good time, rockin' out and feeling the awesome burn in my soon-to-be-smaller buttocks.

*music abruptly stops*

Wait a minute...





Let's just say that Buff Older Guy was quite wrongly accused.

Currently listening : Smell the Magic By L7 Release date: 1991-07-09

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*Psst* Hey Idiot.
Current mood: numb

I'm not calling for a second chance,
I'm screaming at the top of my voice.
Give me reason, but don't give me choice.
'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again.
-James Blunt

Currently listening : All the Lost Souls By James Blunt Release date: 2007-09-18

20:59 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos

Enough Already
Current mood: touched
Category: Life

There have been lots of blogs on MS and elsewhere about the war, and about the thousands of men and women courageously serving our country in Iraq and Afghanistan.   

Like many I’ve read before, today’s blog by Tall, Dark & Complicated touched me.

A Time to Break the Silence
(link isn’t working ~ trying to fix)

This particular blog did more. This blogger suggested his readers find a fallen U.S. serviceperson that we didn’t know.  I took his advice, and I’ve been on this computer all day, meeting hundreds of inspirational men and women who died serving our country.   

To get started, I didn’t have to search very long.  In less than 2 minutes, this amazing smile found ME: 

Cpt. Torre Mallard

   

 

A former football player, boxer, and West Point graduate from Alabama, he was 27 years old.  He was about 4 months into his second tour in Iraq when he was killed on March 10, 2008 in a bomb blast.  He is mourned by his wife, Bonita and two little boys, Torre Jr. (2) and Joshua (1).


But I found that I just couldn’t stop there.  All afternoon I searched, randomly and aimlessly, saddened by the faces of thousands of those lost and sickened by page after page of obits.   While it might seem as though I purposely chose the saddest stories I could find, I swear I found these people at random. 

Here are a few of the men and women that I met and mourned today:


Sgt. Mark Adams

 

This 24 year old from Morrisville, NC is one of 926 US Marines killed so far.  He was killed by a bomb on October 15, 2005.  In life, he loved NASCAR and Van Halen, was a wrestler and loved to play softball.  At his funeral his Dad talked about how he urged his son not to re-enlist and feared he would be killed.  The marine told his Dad, "I’m not afraid to die for my country."



Pfc. Eric Ayon

 

This 26 year old Marine from Arletta, CA was killed in a gun battle  on April 9, 2004.   He loved kids and worked as a youth counselor steering kids away from drugs and gangs.  He enlisted less than a year before his death.  He is survived by his wife, Angie and son Joshua (7).  A birthday card Eric sent his son arrived the day his family learned of his death. It said, "Being your dad is the coolest thing I’ve ever done in my life."



Spec. Kyle Little

Kyle was 20 years old and lived in the same town where I grew up -- West Boylston, MA.   He died May 8, 2007 when a bomb detonated near his vehicle.  He was a Red Sox fan and enjoyed playing guitar.  His young wife, Tiffany, was pregnant with their first child at the time of his death. 

Capt. John Boria

This 29 year old Air Force veteran from Broken Arrow, OK was killed on September 6, 2004 in a vehicle accident.  He was a football player and graduate of the US Air Force Academy.  He was killed in a non-combat related incident, and was kept alive so that his organs could be donated.   He is survived by his parents. 



Spec. Ashley Sietsema

A National Guard medic from River Grove, IL, she was only 20 when she was killed in a vehicle accident while transporting a patient in Kuwait.  She was studying to receive her nursing degree when she was deployed to Iraq.  She had been married just 6 months to her husband, Max, when she died this past November.

Col. Theodore Westhusing

This 44 year old serviceman was born in Dallas, TX and was killed on June 5, 2005.  An honor graduate from West Point, he had doctorate degrees in Russian, philosophy and military strategy.  He is survived by his wife, Michelle, and three children, Sarah, Aaron and Anthony.

Sgt. Douglas Bascom

This 25 year old from Colorado Springs, CO worked three jobs and initially attended college with his sights on a degree in computer engineering.  He later joined the Marines and married his wife, Jolene.  He completed his hitch but re-enlisted to volunteer in Iraq, where he was killed by a bomb on October, 20, 2004. 

Staff Sgt. Carletta Davis

This beautiful lady from Anchorage, AK was killed when a bomb detonated near her Humvee during combat operations in Tal Al-Dahab, Iraq.  As a flight medic, Davis spent much of her adult life in harm’s way. Besides the deployments to Iraq, she served six months in Bosnia in 1996-97 and a year in South Korea in 2002.   She was 34 years old when she died on November 5, 2007.

        


    This is Sgt. Bryan Tutten 

He was 33 years old when he was killed 4 months ago
on Christmas Day. 

He is survived by his family in Augustine, FL ~ his wife, Constandina, and two small children, Catherine (4) and Gareth (7 months).

It takes everything I have not to get into exactly what I think of this war and our current administration for getting us into, botching and keeping us entrenched in this nastiness.   But out of respect for these amazing people, I’ll save politics for another day. 

These are only 10 of a total of 4003 men and women who are, so far, the casualties of Operation Iraqui Freedom.  Almost another 500 have died in Afghanistan.  

Over four thousand people who sacrificed their lives, whose families are forever changed, have earned the right to be more than 4003 nameless and faceless casualties of war. 

If you are as grateful as I am, spend a few minutes mourning them and praying for their families.  You can find all our fallen U.S. armed forces veterans here:

http://projects.washingtonpost.com/fallen/iraq/


You can also find a great project by the Washington Post, carrying on the legacy of those killed in action, here:

In Remembrance

Today I am sad, grateful and changed.

18:08 - 14 Comments - 30 Kudos - Add Comment

Only in Jersey
Current mood: amused
Category: Travel and Places

Just about 2 years ago I moved away from the place I lived for most of my life…

One of the most beautiful places on earth... 

OK, admittedly I might be a tiny bit biased…

But New England really is amazing.


         

            

          

           

Anyway, I moved to New Jersey ~ South Jersey to be exact.  I split my time at work between offices in Jersey, Philadelphia and Denver, but spend most of my time in the beautiful Garden State.  

*cough*

Now, as my friends know, I have not led a sheltered life.
I was raised in a crazy Italian household by crazy Italian women.
I have lived and worked in not-so-desirable areas of Boston & Philly.
I have traveled extensively.

I talk to everyone and have met all kinds of interesting people.

I won’t say I’ve seen it all, but I’ve seen a lot.

And then I moved to Jersey.  

At first I hated it.  It’s congested and over populated, with all the crap that comes with that.  Almost immediately I started talking about moving back to Massachusetts.  But after some time here something amazing started to happen.  I began to see and experience the real essence of New Jersey. 

The charm of New Jersey is in the comedy. 

The people here are hysterically funny.  I was trying to think about how to explain it, and then I realized all I had to do is share a little...    

So here are some of the wonderful things I’ve seen, heard and experienced this week: 

                        ONLY IN NEW JERSEY

~  Only in Jersey did the guy in line behind me at the WAWA look at my newspaper, point and say, "That woman is SO fucking guilty of killing her husband. See?  You can tell by looking at her."

~ Only in Jersey did a psychotic-looking woman cut me off and then (without missing a beat) flip me the double bird. 

                



~ Only in Jersey did I overhear a guy in the fish market tell his friend, he "made the ultimate sacrifice and gave up spankin’ it for Lent." 

~  Only in Jersey did the guy who pumps my gas strike up a conversation about how gorgeous Ashley Dupree is, and "how lucky that bastard (NY Governor Spitzer) is to be gettin’ summa that."  (She really DOES look a lot like Diana, doesn’t she?)

   

~  Only in Jersey did I see a guy with a beer bottle in his hand vomit in a parking lot, wipe his mouth with his beer bottle, and go back to swigging his beer.

~ Only in Jersey did I check out at Target behind a guy who was buying 10 wireless Wii guitars.  Yes, of course I asked him why, and of course he invited me to his Guitar Hero party, and of course I went.  (Heh, kidding, but I thanked him for the invite.)

~  Only in New Jersey did I see two teenage boys in the window of Victoria’s Secret, pulling down all the mannequins’ panties around their ankles.   

  

                



~ Only in Jersey can you drive a mile down a main street and have your choice of 6 different diners, all of which serve excellent food AND have the worst service imaginable.  

~ Only in Jersey can you sit next to a couple and their grandmother at a restaurant on Easter Sunday ~ the couple wearing matching wife beaters and sweatpants while Granny is dressed to the nines.

            



~ Only in Jersey can God help me find happiness


                   


I could go on, but hopefully you get the picture.  I think I’ll stay a little while longer.  I wouldn’t want to miss anything good...

Currently listening : New Jersey By Bon Jovi Release date: 09 February, 1999

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A Beautiful Pair (o)(o)
Current mood: sassy
Category: Fashion, Style, Shopping

Heh.  Made ya look.  But for the record, they are beautiful.  Now get out of the gutter, sickos, and read on.

I have been traveling a lot for work lately so I am spending this whole weekend with my girls.  We’re doing things that THEY want to do.   Mmm, yeah, that absolutely could be a mistake. 

So far I’ve made a pilgrimage to Target in sweats and greasy hair (so they could shop for books and makeup)

and made a midnight jaunt to Rite Aid (for Sour Patch Kids and Pull-n-Peel Twizzlers.)   We’ve ONLY been to Starbucks twice (God help me) and they begged to go to Five Below (which I despise and used to affectionately call the "Five Dollars For This Crap" Store because I could never remember the name.)

By mid-day today I was kind of bored and looking for something more fun to do.  On a whim I innocently asked,

"Anyone feel like shopping for spring shoes?"

*two heads whip around in my direction*

*squeals of delight escape teen and tween lips*

*jumping around and loud cheering ensue*

This warms my heart.  First, it’s more points for me toward this year’s ’Mother of the Year’ nomination.  Second, Bangin’ would be so proud that my girls are so into their training.

We didn’t have to travel far to visit the Holy Land:

Designer

Shoe

Warehouse

*cue angels singing*

All our favorite boys hang there.   Christian, Ralph, Michael, Jimmy, Stuart, Calvin, Tommy, Cole, Haan (ok, I don’t buy Cole-Haans and I don’t know if they are actual guys.) 

While I confess I am not one to buy gobs of expensive shoes,  I do really love me some Via Spiga’s.

Excuse me moment as I pause to collect myself.  Talk among yourselves.

               


DSW is a kind of girlie Disney Land.   It’s aisles and aisles of pumps, sandals, boots, sneakers, handbags, slinky whore heels

*pant*

all things leather and suede and canvas and silk ~ ballet flats and knock-me-down-and-fuck-me heels and everything in between. 

There is one relevant fact I should disclose.  It’s the only thing that can possibly stand between me and a Shoegasm:  size does matter.

Since high school my feet have been on the large side.  Ok, more like GINORMOUS.  My Mom used to say I needed them to carry my 5’10" frame.  Then again, this is the same woman who once suggested I "just wear the boxes, because it is easier than trying to find shoes in Size Huge."  This is so very wrong because I inherited these clown feet from that bitch.  

My size 11’s present a challenge not only because the size is hard to find, but because some shoes look just plain freakish when they get that big.  More than once I’ve pulled back the cover, only to be horrified that what’s inside doesn’t even slightly resemble the cute little sample.

Anyway, we managed to have ourselves some fun today.  Punky (daughter 1) has pretty big feet too, including long finger-like toes (inherited from you-know-which-grandmother.)  Being under the weather she didn’t really want to play and refused to pose for pics.  

On the other hand, Love Bug (daughter 2) is a shoe goddess who dreams about one day having a closetful like Britney or Paris or Imelda.  She walked in and found these right away:

           

          


Not to mention these:


            


and these (which I had to argue were about 3" too high for her):


            


Punky found these that seemed like they’d be great for her semi-formal, but she soured on them once she realized she couldn’t walk in them:


                


These won the prize for most disgusting, by far:


           


We spent considerable time here, because there’s nothing like a good hunt to get the blood flowing to your toes:

           


There wasn’t much there today ~ ’cept some fugly flip flops:

        

Yes, that is quite a homemade pedi the kid gave herself, isn’t it?

And there were these banana pumps that she begged for ~ just a trifle too trailer park for my money:

        


And me, you ask?  I almost struck out today.  I found these, which didn’t thrill me...but what self-respecting woman can go home empty handed?

        


There were plenty of other pairs that we liked a lot, but without love it’s not always wise to commit.

            

           

            

           


And one last question...Who gave Jessica Simpson her own shoe line?  Hmmm.  I bet the boys in DSW like her a lot.


       

Peace out, girlies.  If you’re a guy and you made it this far, well, I love you.  (Cuz I’m pretty sure there’s only one...)

Currently listening : Sailin' Shoes By Little Feat Release date: 25 October, 1990

15:29 - 36 Comments - 36 Kudos - Add Comment

Wanna Party?
Current mood: silly
Category: Games

A couple of weeks ago my daughter turned 15.   Fuck me, I'm old. 

It just so happened that I was traveling on business, and her Dad decided to help her host her first ever high school birthday party with boys. 

                         


The man had a moment of insanity.  I know this, because this is the same guy who flinches at the mere mention of young bucks, the man who has taught 14 & 15-year olds for over 18 years, the guy who has nothing good to say about boys except when they're far, far away from his girls.  Alas, he's an awesome Dad and (obviously) pure putty in their hands.


                            

The bash was planned for Saturday.  My daughter was a wreck all week, and grew more and more anxious as it got closer.

                


I left in the morning and Dad and daughter spent all day planning, shopping and preparing the house.  They were both a mess.

As luck would have it, I was not only gone, but sick as a dog in bed, over 1500 miles away.  I was not much help, and I was very sad to be missing the preparations and the par-tay.

                           


Silly me, I didn't need to worry.  In my fever-induced stupor, I experienced the sights and sounds of the event long distance.  I have to share these messages I got from him that night, verbatim (with names removed to protect the innocent.)



6:03 - (daughter) avoids "peter brady" status when her first guest arrives. much to all of our surprises, it's not (best girl friend)

6:07 – (best girl friend) arrives. i lost a dollar.

6:18 - some boys arrive. (Boy) shows up and i am required to hug him since i guess he's always told (daughter) that when he met me, he wants to hug me. i hope i don't end up on channel 8.


                 


6:19 - the house absolutely smells like nasty boy cologne.

6:20 - i throw up a little in my mouth.

                  


6:23 - i go to the kitchen and set the kitchen timer for 10:00. it's counting down. i wish you were here, you handle this shit so much better than i do.

6:39 - thinking about ordering the pizza but can't get over the stench. god, this is horrible. you're lucky you aren't coming home until thursday. it should be dissipated by then.

6:40 - i forgot to tell you that marilyn & i were talking about the party before you showed up the other day. i told her that (daughter) was stressed and i was kind of freaking out because she was. marilyn asked; "are you worried about people necking?" that was fucking hilarious. gotta love that.

6:51 – (girl) and (girl) show up. they are not comfortable with the rest since the "others" were talking about them before they showed up. for my money, i'd take them over all the rest.

6:54 - (daughter) pulls me aside and tells me "this isn't turning out like i thought it would". that's not a good thing.

6:55 – (other girl-blantantly anti-semetic, for the record)  can't come. at least there won't be any neo-nazi rallies.


                        

7:08 - i miss you. i really, really miss you. this is one of those "hello freaks!" things that you should absolutely not be missing.

7:09 - they're all in the living room playing guitar hero. the pizza is ordered. i think there's enough for the neighborhood. 


                

7:14 - one of the boys just looked at me with fear in his eyes. that can only be considered a good thing. guitar hero continues.

7:18 - i eat my first dorito in about five years.

7:19 - i eat my first entire bowl of doritos in about five years.

                             


7:20 - i realize that doritos are "really good".

7:21 - i really can't wait until saturday night live. ellen page and wilco and the party will be over. i think i have to watch some hockey.

7:24 - this could be a lot worse. in 9th grade, at parties, i was drinking and smoking pot regularly. not to mention "necking".

7:25 - i think i smell something.

                            

7:40 - the pizza arrives. i offer the south jersey cougar delivery woman a sawbuck to stay. she politely declines and, as she leaves the house, yells to the kids: "don't trash the house!"  thanks a bundle.


                              

7:59 - unintelligible howling from downstairs. i shut the door.

                      

                            


8:08 - something goes very wrong with the computer and i have to reboot twice which takes, as you know, about 45 minutes. it's now 8:57 and i'm just pissed. sorry you're feeling so poorly. "get well, get well soon, we want you to get well."

9:00 - ONE HOUR TO GO!

                        

                      


9:20 - (daughter) comes up and asks me if i want any part of the "cake thing". i have a feeling my facial expression answers the question. she handles it.

                        


9:48 - where are these fucking parents? pick your kids up early for christ's sake! we don't want them at our house anymore!

                           


9:55 - are you abandoning your children? PICK THEM THE FUCK UP!!!!

9:57 - STOP GRINDING! that bad cologne has now mixed with sweat to produce a funky potpourri of stank.