It's a Pity

I'm having a little pity party. Not really. But I could be. All I (we) can do now is laugh.

I've been planning a special night this weekend, sans children, with my handsome and ever-so-sexy husband. He's leaving soon on an extended business trip, so I've really been looking forward to this. But then a funny thing happened. I've come down with a case of, get this,

Pityriasis Rosea

Ever heard of it? Me neither, until I saw my doctor yesterday because I was concerned about a few spots that have mysteriously appeared on my body over the past few days. It started out with one spot, then two, then eight, then twelve.... I guess looking bad naked (nude?) isn't anything compared to looking bad naked with spots, as I'm sure you can imagine (but wish you couldn't).

So now I'm looking forward to a nice family weekend. Isn't it a Pityriasis?

Grrrr...

I've tried repeatedly to post a video from YouTube. Do you think I can do it? Do you see it anywhere here? Why am I the only one who can't post a video, a link to another blog, or anything else on the "sidebar?" Grrrr....

Oh.... the good news is that I rock at Guitar Hero. Ever heard of it? It's a video game where you play a guitar that has colored buttons on it in time with the music being played. My nephews and son were playing so I asked if I could give it a try. They said "sure" but gave each other looks as if to say, "this is gonna be funny." After nephew explained how to play, I gave it a shot. From the corner of my eye I could see one nephew grinning his biggest grin. At first I thought he was poking fun. Then the video announced, "YOU ROCK." And it was over. Smiling nephew said, "Auntie, are you sure you never played this before?" Me, "No, never." Nephew, "Well you did great! Better than Dave. Way better than my dad (my brother)." I, of course, took a bow. Then nephew said to son, "Now you can go back to school and tell your friends that your mom smoked ya at Guitar Hero." Son just laughed. That's me. Smokin'. One hot mama.

One hot mama who still can't post a video. Grrr.

The Naked Truth

The truth is...

I used to look better naked. Now I don't mean that I looked better naked at 26 than I do at 46. Of course that is true. It goes without saying and seems true for almost everyone. I mean that I used to look better naked than I did clothed. Even in my younger years, I never really liked the way most clothes looked on me -- my arms seemed too long, my thighs too large -- clothes just didn't seem to hang right on my body. But naked (and as vain as this sounds), I thought I looked more than okay, and I never heard any complaints.

Time changes everything. I saw my whole naked body the other day. Of course I've caught glimpses of parts of myself over the past many years, but since having children I no longer wander around naked; therefore, I don't often see my entire body all at once. I had just taken a shower, opened the vanity drawer, and lo and behold, no towels. Not a single one. And I was standing there dripping wet. Having to choose between drip drying or going into the hall closet to search for a towel, I decided that a towel was the way to go. And on my way I passed a full-length mirror. Me, in only God's glory, in front of the mirror. Not a pretty sight. How long have I looked like that? And how could I not have noticed this sooner?

It's the kids. Blame it all on the kids. Since becoming mom, there's no more wandering around the house naked -- no chance to see my whole self. Yup, it's all their fault that I no longer look better naked. Sigh, sigh, sigh. I ate my way through the past few months. Think that might have anything to do with it? So, last night, having just eaten two bunny ears, I decided that it's time to shape up. It will be good for my health, good for my self-esteem, good for my life. I am officially beginning a healthy lifestyle routine.

Now can anyone tell me what's the difference between naked and nude?

Out All Night

My pretty one after a hard night on the town. Reminds me of my "olden days."

Blah

Blah sums up my feelings fairly accurately. I've got a bad case of the blahs/blues. Understandable? Yes. But that doesn't make it feel any better. I got a good scolding from one of my blogger friends who told me, in no uncertain terms, that I'd better get back on the ball. So here I am, trying my best.

For what it's worth:

Is the former governor of NY a complete idiot? What on earth was he thinking? Why didn't the guy use cash? But what I wonder most of all is why did he resign? Bill didn't. And, in my most humble (yet correct) opinion, if president Billy boy didn't resign after abusing a young White House INTERN, why should the governor resign? Billy's offense seems much more egregious.

My son is definitely attending the private school I mentioned long ago in a previous post. After much thought, that's what we've decided. Wouldn't you? Get this.... Son was in honors program last year (7th grade). Unfortunately, he got a 'D' in Spanish (his only non-honors course, since none of the children had studied a foreign language before). He was dropped from the honors program for 8th grade. About two months ago he came home with his course selection for high school which I had to sign off on. Where were the honors classes? "Mom, this is what my guidance counselor told me to put down." "What about math and science?" "Mom, this is what he said I should take." "That's bullshit." (Okay, I only said that in my head, but it's what I was thinking.) Just a day or two later, he received his acceptance letter from the private school congratulating him on being accepted into their "challenging Honors Program." They also told him that he was a "young man with a great deal of potential." THEY see it. The public school was going to let my bright, bright son fall through the cracks forever because he got a 'D' in Spanish in 7th grade? That was it for "honors" forever? Not for my son. It all goes back to the no child left behind thing. It's turned into the no child pushed ahead thing. Not for my son. So, we sent in the deposit, and he attends orientation in May. Oh.... last week he received a letter from their foreign language department strongly suggesting that he switch from Spanish to French when he attends their school. No, I do not feel elitist. I know how lucky my son is that we can afford to send him there. I feel fortunate that my son has the opportunity to achieve his full potential. It's sad that there are others out there like him that don't.

Yesterday was St. Joseph's Day. It's a big holiday in these parts. Our neighbor brought over a couple of zeppoles yesterday. Guess how many are left. Yummm.

Easter is just days away. Last night I filled all the eggs to be hidden for the hunt. We're having 14 people for dinner. And here I am, crying again, because Mil and Dad will both be missing for the first time. How I miss them. They'd both want us all to move on and be happy in our lives. I'm trying, I really am.

There's a message on my answering machine from my dad from the first day he was in the hospital. I can't bring myself to erase it. What's wrong with that?

One of my best friends and her husband have decided to divorce after 25 years. I just can't believe it. She's very bitter. I flat out asked her, "Is this really how you want things to end after all this time? You want to be enemies? I think you'll regret it later." Her, "I hate his f...ing guts."

Who made the back of the toilet tank the official tissue box place?

Will I ever feel creative again?

Happy Easter to all! Remember, somebunny loves you.

Friends

Today's the best day I've had in a while. I'm finally starting to feel like myself again. I think a big part of it was talking to one of my dear friends. It's odd...sometimes you don't even notice how important a person has become to you until you realize that, in your own strange way, you need him. That's what has happened with me.

This morning I was cleaning up my email mess. There are so many of the stupid things I haven't even bothered to read or delete over the past five or six weeks, I had to do something. I ended up reading the email messages I had sent during the last few days of my dad's life and saw that they were all to the same person. I spent most of those days with my family at the hospital staying near Dad. But in the few private alone moments I had at home, I connected with this special friend, keeping him informed and pouring out all my sad, sad feelings. He responded in his usual kind, compassionate, and loving way. He kept me connected to life while I watched my dad's fade away. And I will be forever grateful.

So.... this afternoon I decided to go to the library. Once I'd arrived, thoughts of my friend just popped into my head, and I decided to call him right then and there from the parking lot. He seemed genuinely happy to hear from me, and I was certainly happy to hear a friendly upbeat voice. We talked for twenty minutes or so, just enough to revive this wilting woman, but hopefully not long enough to wear out my welcome. It was good. And the feeling lingers.

You never know where you might find a real friend. I'm thankful for those I have, and today I'm especially thankful for my newest real friend. Maybe someday he'll know how much his friendship means.

Tuesday Two

On his way out the door this morning, son shouted his usual "Bye." Then, what seemed like an afterthought, "Barack and Roll, Mom.... Barack and Roll!" I yell to him to wait and then ask, "What does that mean?" "It's just something that the guys at school say. Young people want Barack to win. Our parents like rock and roll. So if we say 'Barack and Roll' maybe they'll vote for him." Hmmmm... son's been interested in politics for the past four or five years and discusses his opinions at length with me. He's not sure who I'll be voting for, and he knows that a slogan won't sway my decision. But good try, I think. At least he knows it is primary day in my state and that I will vote.

Later, as I walked to the polls, I thought about "Barack and Roll." Then it happened. One of those damned earworm moments that Winston talks about. In my head I hear (with my sincerest apologies to Bob Seeger): "Call me a relic, call me what you will. Say I'm old-fashioned, say I'm over the hill. Today's must ain't got the same soul. I like that old-time Barack and roll." Did it stop there? No, a couple more verses. Then (and again with my apologies to Rick Derringer): "Barack and roll , Hoochie Koo. Lawdy mama light my fuse. Barack and roll, Hoochie Koo. Truck on out and spread the news." Then, and fortunately last, (you know I have to apologize to Billy Joel, too): "Next phase, new wave, dance craze, anyways, it's still Barack & Roll to me."

Now, have any rock and roll/Barack and roll songs popped into your head just by reading this? And will you be cursing me the next time you hear someone sing about rock and roll and a presidential candidate pops into your head?

Hey, at least I voted.

P.S. (can you P.S. on a blog?) It looked like Hillary was the only candidate running at our polling place. No Barack supporters, no republicans at all. ??