The Imaginary Birthday

Today is the last day of February. Sort of... Every four years, there is one extra day in February. This is called a Leap Year.
The year 1976 was one of those years. And on February 29th, my hubs was born. The world rejoiced. This giant 10 pound ball of chunky baby rolls would someday grow into an even bigger, balder, bearded, goofy, snarky, wonderfully weird, amazing man.
Now, I've told you before how much I love birthdays. I think they are extremely important, and should be celebrated to the nines. My hubs on the other hand, thinks birthdays are stupid, especially once you are an adult. For the life of me, I cannot understand this attitude. Well for 16 years, we have had the birthday battle. Me wanting to go big, and him wanting to go home. I think I've finally figured out why..
He has an imaginary birthday. Since his actual, real birthday only comes once every four years, he has to celebrate a faux one all the other years. This would make anyone a birthday hater. While everyone around him gets to celebrate their real, genuine birthdays every year, he doesn't even get to see his on a calendar. Not to mention the constant "Which day do you celebrate?" debate. Do you go for February 28th or March 1st? I say the 28th, since he was technically born on the last day in February, so that would be the 28th on the alternating years. Others say the 1st, since it is the day after the 28th, where his birthday would normally fall. I don't think there is a real solution. We usually end up doing something on both, to please each side of the debate.
Now some may see this as beneficial. You get TWO days worth of birthday love. While this is true, neither one is really HIS day, so I don't think his heart is truly in it, because deep down, he knows that it isn't really the day he was born. Keep in mind, this is just my theory. Since I don't know anyone else with a Leap Year Birthday, I cannot scientifically test this. But since I see no other logical reason for one to not enjoy birthdays, I'm going to assume my Imaginary Birthday Theory is spot on.
My hubs won't get another REAL birthday until 2016. He'll finally reach double digits. The big 1 0. (Yeah, that's right, I'm married to a 9 year old. Suck on that, cradle robbers.) Maybe that year he'll find his inner birthday party animal. A girl can dream, right? Until then, I shall enthusiastically celebrate for the both of us.
Happy Birthday, Daniel. Even if it is just an imaginary one...

 

(My handsome hubs. AKA: The Bald One)

It's Not Rocket Science, People

Sound the alarm! Turn on the flashing lights! This is the grammar police, and you idiots are under arrest!
I am far from perfect (ok, not THAT far from it) and I'm certain I make grammatical errors from time to time. But.... I think anyone who passed the 4th grade should be capable of at least understanding basic grammar. I am constantly seeing the misuse of common words and phrases, and it sends me into a rage. So today, I am going to offer an Idiot's Guide to Grammar on three of the most popular grammar mistakes.

*Your vs. You're:
YOUR is used when placing ownership on something. This is YOUR car. These are YOUR pants. I am YOUR friend. Are you following me so far?
YOU'RE is used in place of YOU ARE. YOU'RE my friend. YOU'RE the best. YOU'RE going to start using these words properly, or I'm going to start punching you in the neck.
If you have doubts about when to use one or the other, try this simple method. Replace the your/you're with YOU ARE, and see if the sentence still makes sense. Example: Is that you are phone? Sounds wrong, doesn't it? So you would use YOUR. You are so funny. Sounds right. So you would use YOU'RE.

*Their/There/They're:
This one is a little trickier, because you have three choices. Let me help you out.
THEIR is possessive/shows ownership. This is THEIR house. I like to use THEIR shampoo. I think we took home THEIR child by mistake.
THERE is generally referring to a location/place. The ball is over THERE. THERE you are, I've been worried! Who's THERE?
THEY'RE is used in place of THEY ARE. THEY'RE the nicest people. THEY'RE pretending to ignore you. THEY'RE right over THERE. <--- see what I did THERE?
When in doubt, ask yourself if THEY ARE sounds accurate. I left my keys in THEY ARE car. Hmm... nope. So it must be THEIR or THERE. So, how do you know which one? Here's a little trick: THEIR contains the word heir, which makes you think of a person who has ownership/possession of something. THERE contains the word here, which refers to a location. In the sentence 'I left my keys in ___ car.' you are referring to an object (the car) owned/possessed by someone else. This means you would want to use THEIR. If the sentence was 'I left my keys in the car, over ___.' you are referring to a location, so you would use THERE.

Seen and Saw:
SEEN will generally have a "helper word" in front of it, like have, has, was, or had. Example: I have SEEN the light! If she had SEEN his glasses, she would have told him. He was last SEEN at his office?
SAW follows a pronoun (I, she, he, we, etc.) Examples: I SAW your friend yesterday. She SAW him naked. We SAW that movie last week.
So if you are referring to something you witnessed with your eyes, you would say I SAW or I have SEEN. The phrase 'I SEEN' is never, ever to be used. Ever.

These are just a few examples of basic grammar that I see used incorrectly most often. While I know there are many, many more, these are the three that I felt needed addressing the worst. I'd like to point out again that I am NOT an English teacher, or perfect by any means. I'm certain that I make numerous grammatical mistakes in my posts, so please don't feel the need to point them out to me. I am simply offering this lesson out of the kindness of my heart, and for your safety, because each time I see one of these errors, I am tempted to do bodily harm to the offender. So please help keep me out of prison, and share this with your loved ones. Together, we can help make the world a happier, and smarter place.

Think Spring

I miss warm weather. It's no secret that I'm not a fan of winter in the least. But come February/March, I start feeling near violent in my hatred of this dreaded season. Enough is enough already. And this year has been especially brutal and harsh, so I am BEYOND ready for it to end.
Needless to say, Spring Fever has hit me hard. I'm fantasizing about all the things I've been missing since Jack Frost stopped by for his most unwelcome and extended stay. Here are just a few of the things I miss...
1. Being warm. Seriously, I don't think I've been truly warm in what feels like forever. I'm either chilly, or flat out shivering. Fake warmth just doesn't cut it. I need sun, and I need it now.
2. My feet. I know they exist, because I see them when I shower, but the rest of the time, they are trapped in their cotton prison. I swear I hear them crying...

3. Pretty dresses/clothes. I hate winter attire. Loathe it. In theory (and on TV) you can wear cute cold weather gear, but in reality, we all know that those cute, heeled boots are just asking for a broken ankle. And those tights will only keep you warm enough if you are spending your day in front of a cozy fire, with a hot toddy.
4. Casually walking from car to door. I don't know about you, but I move a lot quicker when it's ass cold outside. I don't leisurely stroll, enjoying the sights. I grab my shit, and damn near run to the next source of heat. Sorry mailman, no time to chat. Talk to you in a few months!
5. Outdoor activities. Camping, walking, playing with my nieces and nephews, etc. Any excuse just to be outside. The feel of grass between my bare feet, sipping on a cold beer, face to the sky.

6. A tan. I'm pale. And I don't mean cute, china doll pale. I mean glow in the dark, you could see my white ass from space, pale. And cosmetics, for all their wondrous magic, can never compete with the rosy glow from good old Mr. Sunshine.

7. Cute shoes. Try as I might (and I have tried) I cannot find winter shoes that even come close to being as fun, funky, and cute as my warm weather ones. There's just something about a strappy wedged sandal that makes any outfit better.

8. Windows down in the car. This is hands down, one of life's simplest pleasures. Windows down, moon roof open, music cranked, cruising along in your car. Even the drive to work is better when you can enjoy it this way.

9. Color. Winter is just so.... white. I don't do white. White is depressing, and sterile. I need color in my life. Greens, reds, oranges, blues, pinks, all of it! It's hard to be sad when you are surrounded by beautiful color.

10. The smells. Lilacs, bonfires, BBQs, race gas, fresh cut grass, and on and on. The fragrances of life, and happiness. The scents that make you close your eyes and inhale deeply just for the pure pleasure of it.

This list could be endless. Winter just can't compare to any other season, yet it seems to always be the longest. Maybe this is so we can truly appreciate the other three. Or maybe Mother Nature just has a twisted sense of humor, and an extra long menstrual cycle come December. Whatever the reason, I am just ready for it to be over. Before my Spring Fever starts causing hallucinations, and I run naked into the snow, thinking it's a field of daisies...

 

Intelligent vs. Educated

I cannot tell you how many times I've been asked where I went to college, and when I say that I didn't, the most common response is "Really?! But you're so smart!" While I am flattered by the compliment, I can't help but be annoyed by the assumption that you can only be smart if you have gone to college.
This is a common misconception in our society today. There is this notion that if you are intelligent, you must be well educated. And that if you are well educated, you must be intelligent. While this may sometimes hold true, the opposite is often more accurate.
I know many college educated, overly degreed morons. True story. These folks could quote classic literature, do math faster than a calculator, and ace a spelling test. But don't ask them to change a light bulb, or chew gum and walk at the same time, because I can promise you... it ain't happening.
I also know several non educated folks who can barely spell their names, but they could tell you every detail about how a computer, or an engine works.
The point is... Educated does not always equal intelligent, and vise versa, and we need to quit assuming that it does.
I didn't go to college, but I would hardly call myself stupid. While I may not know quadratic equations, or the Latin names for plants and animals, I can still hold my own in most conversations. I also don't need help tying my shoes, or making a pot roast. And I've come to find that some of the most highly educated people cannot function well in everyday life. If you spend too much time in the relative shelter of university walls, you often miss out on basic life lessons & skills. This makes functioning in the real world difficult for some, and impossible for others. There are many a great scholar, and leader in their fields, who have the common sense of a door knob.
Am I suggesting that you cannot be both intelligent AND educated? Not at all. I know many people who are both. But I also know many people who are one, and not the other.
I'd also like to point out that telling someone who didn't go to college that they still could, or "It's not too late." is also annoying. Do I wish I had gone to college? Sure. Because it's much more acceptable to be 20, and have no idea what you want to be when you grow up, than it is to be 34, and still not know. Yes, I COULD go to college. But I don't WANT to go. It's just not for me. I hated school. It was not an environment that I thrived in. I love learning things, and while some classes do interest me, college as a whole does not.
I also do not think I need a degree to be a better person, and this is another perception that many people have. There is an attitude of negativity associated with non educated people. That we must not be functioning, worthwhile members of society. That needs to stop. Yes, there are many uneducated people out there who may fit this stereotype, but there are just as many educated ones that fit it as well. A degree (or several degrees) does not make you better than anyone else. Mechanics, cooks, janitors, and construction workers are just as important to a well balanced society as doctors, lawyers, and art history majors.
Now, I'm a big fan of inspirational quotes, and when it comes to the subject of knowledge vs. wisdom, there are many. Here are some that I'd like to share:

"Never mistake knowledge for wisdom. One helps you make a living; the other helps you make a life."

"Knowledge comes from learning, wisdom comes from living."

"We can have all the knowledge in the world, but it means nothing without the wisdom to know what to do with it."

"To acquire knowledge, one must study; but to acquire wisdom, one must observe."

I think you get my point. Some of the wisest, most intelligent people in this world are also some of the least educated. While I firmly believe that education is important, I also know that it isn't an option for everyone. And I know that life lessons can often teach us a great deal more than any teacher or book. So the next time you want to make an assumption about someone without a college degree, try assuming they are just as smart, well balanced, and capable as you.

No Make-up, No Thank You

This morning on The Today Show, they were doing a series called "Love Your Selfie" where the idea is to post a photo of yourself with no make-up. (No Make-up Monday)
Ummm... no.
I understand the idea is to bring attention to body image issues and such, and while I am all for this new "self love" movement, I don't understand why I need to hate make-up in order to do that.
I LOVE make-up. I am a loud and proud fan of cosmetics, and have been for as long as I can remember. I wear it daily, and it makes me happy. Does this mean I hate myself? Not at all. Do I have body image issues? Of course. I'd be lying if I said I didn't. But wearing or not wearing make-up doesn't change that fact in the least. My make-up doesn't cover my stomach rolls, my stretch marks, or my veiny legs. So should I also post a photo of myself naked to prove how much I love me? That's just utter nonsense. Body image issues are a very real thing, and blaming cosmetics, beauty supplies, and clothing isn't solving anything. If wearing Spanx under your favorite dress makes you feel that much more comfortable in your skin, then I say go for it. And if wearing make-up makes you feel prettier, what's the harm?
Why can't we love ourselves, and still love our make-up? I could post a million pics of myself without cosmetics, and it wouldn't change the fact that I still look better with it on. It doesn't transform me from one person to another. It merely makes me the best possible version of myself. And isn't that what we SHOULD be aiming for? If working out changes your body, does that mean that you shouldn't do it, because isn't that saying there was something wrong with your body to begin with?? No. It means you are trying to be a better, stronger, healthier version of yourself. And if being the best version of yourself means a sassy haircut, a flattering outfit, and some make-up.... who's to say that's wrong?
I don't like this new movement towards making women feel guilty for wanting to look better. Yes, we should love ourselves, flaws and all, but that doesn't mean we need to announce those flaws to the world. I'm not going to strut around in a crop top to show that world that I'm ok with myself, even though my tummy isn't flat, any more than I'm going to go out without make-up just to prove a point. Doing that won't change anything.
Body image issues are not going to be solved by plus sized models, anti airbrush campaigns, or naked faced selfies. The only person who can change the way you view yourself is YOU. The more we continue to blame everything and everyone else, the more we get away from the real issue. Ourselves. If you think you should look a certain way because some model in a magazine looks that way, how is that the model's fault? It isn't. If you can't separate a model just doing their job, from reality, the problem is with you.
So no... I will not be participating in 'No Make-up Monday'. I will continue to post images of myself with my make-up on, and looking my best. And I will continue to be perfectly OK with myself, flaws and all. And if you want to see me without my "face on", I'm going to have to kill you after...

 

(Today's selfie. Make-up and all.)

I'm Just So Tired...

You know what no one ever tells you about Grief? It's exhausting. Emotions have a way of sucking your energy, and leaving you zombie like.
Since losing our son, Grief has become a way of life. Losing a child is a loss like no other you can experience, and you don't ever get over it, or move past it. It becomes part of who you are, and effects every single thing you do. You learn to deal, and function, but the Grief is always there. I like to think of it as Functioning Grief. You go about your "normal" life as best you can, but everything is a struggle. From getting out of bed, to going to work, to dealing with people, to simply relaxing. Nothing you do is exempt from this struggle. And it is exhausting. Maintaining the Mask of normalcy is tiring in itself. To go about your day, smile, be polite, run errands, work, etc, all while fighting to not lose it... well it's flat out taxing. Emotional triggers are everywhere, non stop. The battle to not succumb to them, and to keep going will wear you out. And you know what happens when you lose the battle? Your emotions bubble to the surface, and overwhelm you. And when this happens, it is downright debilitating.
Since losing our son, I have felt tired constantly. And my normal insomnia has raged out of control. What precious few hours of sleep I might have gotten are now riddled with dreams, waking nightmares, emotional breakdowns, and more. I can't decide what's worse, sleeping or being awake. And it goes on, day after day, after day, after day. Just when I think I can't possibly feel any more weary... I do. And this winter has been such a harsh one, so add to this my standard case of Winter Blues, and suddenly zombies are looking like cheerleaders in comparison.
So what do you do? This isn't the kind of exhaustion that energy drinks or vitamins can fix. It's a mental, physical, emotional, heart & soul weariness that drains you, and leaves you wondering how a person can survive it.
I hear people complain about being tired, or needing a nap, and I think to myself "I remember those days." And I do. I remember feeling sapped after a good workout, or drained after an extra long work day. And I remember the feeling of waking up after a good night's sleep, and feeling refreshed and ready to attack the day. That feeling no longer exists for me. At least not now. Maybe someday I'll wake up to the sun shining, the birds chirping, and feel excited about the day ahead, instead of waking up only to remember that my child is gone, and that I have to make it through yet another day without him.
But for now, I'm just tired. So... very... tired...

The Olympics (My Commentary)

Like many of you, I've been watching the Winter Olympics lately. It's difficult not to get sucked in to the hype, competition, and excitement. Also, we don't have cable, and it's pretty much the only thing on. But after watching them for a bit, I started to notice a few things...

*Why no medals ceremonies? Am I missing something? We've been watching them on prime time now for over a week, and I haven't seen a single medal ceremony. I've seen images from them, photos, quick clips, etc. but not one entire podium fanfare from start to finish.

*The announcers are either WAY too excited, or way too mellow. Is there no middle ground? They are either shouting at the top of their lungs over something less than thrilling, or they are totally under playing a big moment. Get your shit together people. And what's up with the interviews after a win/lose? Could you possibly ask stupider questions? "You just lost a medal by a thousandth of a second. How does that make you feel?" Umm... probably pretty shitty, asshole. You want to ask how they feel about people kicking puppies next?

*Figure skaters... there is such a thing as too many rhinestones. Don't get me wrong, I love me some shiny bling. The more glitter the better. Usually. But this is the Olympics. Maybe keep the bedazzling to a respectable level.

*I'm just going to put this out there, but I REALLY don't understand Curling. I sweep a mean floor, but I don't expect a gold medal for it. Why is this an Olympic sport?

*Enough with the comparisons & references to the "Miracle on Ice" already. We get it, that was a BIG deal, but it was 30+ years ago, it's time to stop using it as your only source of hockey knowledge.

*What is up with the skier in the ridiculously oversized uniform? If that's how you want to dress at your home slope, fine. But this is world class skiing, and you are on international television. Get some drawers that stay on your ass. You look like a fool.

*Are the conditions at Sochi really as bad as they say? I saw this photo the other day and just had to laugh.

 

Well... there IS no "i" in team. Or bathroom...

 



Aside from these few things, I really have been enjoying watching and cheering for the talented athletes. Go Team USA! Keep up the great work!

Things I Love

It's Valentine's Day. Today's theme is love. L. O. V. E. In the spirit of this, I shall give you a list of 69 (random numerical selection, I assure you) various things that I adore. This is in no specific order. Enjoy.

1. Cotton Candy
2. High Heels
3. Strawberry Everything
4. Gnomes
5. Rubber Duckies
6. Fairies
7. Old Keys
8. Messages/Signs from my Son
9. Four Leaf Clovers
10. Shiner Bock Beer
11. My Hubs' Perfect Ass
12. Rally
13. Cars (Especially Maggie, my Subaru Wagon)
14. Sex
15. Sex (it seemed worthy of 2 spots)
16. The Smell of Lilacs
17. Blowing Bubbles
18. Glitter
19. Crafts
20. Skittles & StarBurst
21. Superman Ice Cream
22. Super Shiny Lipgloss
23. Tiny Versions of Things
24. Reading Books
25. Writing
26. Songs with Choirs in Them
27. Water
28. Fried Pickles
29. Fat, Juicy Babies
30. People with a Good Sense of Humor
31. Inappropriate Humor
32. Make-up
33. Vintage Dresses
34. Red Lips
35. The Smell of a Wood Shop
36. Taco Bell
37. Cupcakes
38. Antique Jewelry
39. Haunted Houses/Buildings
40. Caramel
41. A Fresh Haircut
42. Office Supplies
43. Celtic Music
44. LEGOS
45. Boobs
46. Dancing
47. Sitting in Front of a Fire
48. Camping
49. Babies Laughing
50. Weddings
51. Social Media
52. Board Games
53. Being Barefoot
54. The Sound of the Ocean
55. Books
56. Cemeteries
57. Making Lists
58. Cuddling
59. Porn
60. Gaudy Accessories
61. Happy People
62. A Clean Car
63. Getting Cards, Notes, and Letters
64. Lotion
65. Fun Socks
66. Lace
67. Being Creative
68. Hearing My Hubs Laugh
69. Alice In Wonderland

Obviously I love many more things than this, but I'll save the rest for another day. ;)

Ok... So I'm a Little Weird

I think I've established that I might not be the most normal individual on the planet. But, I've accepted my weirdness, and I like to think it's charming. I mean, I'm not hide in the bushes outside your house and watch you sleep weird, or strip naked and roll around in pudding while listening to Madonna weird, so it could always be worse.
Anywho.... I've noticed that a great number of folks seem to hide their weirdness. Like it's something bad, that should be kept under wraps. Well not me. I'm proud to be different. I like being an individual, and not a follower. I wear my weirdness like a superhero wears a cape. (Dammit... now I really want a cape. With a giant 'W' on it. Super Weirdo to the rescue!) What was I saying?? Oh yeah, so people always pretend to be normal, while keeping their oddities (AKA: the things that make them special, unique, interesting, and fun) tucked neatly away, hidden from view. Well I say NO MORE! Let's let our freak flags fly, and shout it from the rooftops. "WE'RE HERE AND WE'RE WEIRD!" So today, I'd like to share with you just a few of the things that make me Weird. And I hope they inspire you to do the same. Because there is no fun in being boring.

1. I collect bizarre garden gnomes, name them, make costumes for them, give them back stories, and I even travel with one wherever I go, and that same one has a Facebook page. Don't believe me? Click here. 
2. I use stuffed animals as throw pillows on my sofa. Feel free to curl up with Curious George, Hello Kitty, or Strawberry Shortcake, and watch a movie.
3. I play with LEGOS. And by "play" I mean I make inappropriate/funny scenes with them, take photos and add my own captions. I do occasionally just build with them too.
4. I have not one, but TWO fairy doors in my house. Yes, fairy doors. They are tiny, colorful doors that mount to the wall & allow for fairies to come and go. (I've yet to see a fairy use either of them, but better safe than sorry, right?)
5. I am just a teensy weensy bit OCD. I like my towels lined up evenly on the rack, my stuff in straight lines on my desk, my bra & panties MUST match, I shave everyday, annnnd, you get the idea.
6. I wear a tiara when I clean house. And not a plastic kids tiara either. A real, good quality, fancy one. I like to feel like a princess when I scrub the toilets.
7. I love to color. I have a stash of children's coloring books and several boxes of crayons in a cabinet in the living room, and I find it is a great stress reliever.
8. I get freakishly excited over very small versions of regular things. Miniature stuff for doll houses makes me squeal with delight. (A TINY TOILET?!! C'MON!)
9. I keep the Rainbow Brite soundtrack in my car, and every once in a while, I put it in, roll down my windows, and crank this song at full volume.
10. I like to combine my favorite childhood activities with my favorite adult activities. For example... Blanket forts in the living room are not just for reading anymore. (wink, wink)

This list could go on for eons, but I think I've made my point. Being Weird is fun, and it's perfectly ok. I still have a normal, healthy relationship, I maintain a steady job, and I am a functioning adult. I'm not ashamed of my weirdness, and you shouldn't be either. So let your inner weirdo out, and stop trying to pretend you're normal. No one believes it anyway...

The Truth About Valentine's Day

This Friday is Valentine's Day.
Valentine's Day is a holiday where we celebrate love. I think. Or maybe we celebrate chocolate and roses. Or diamond jewelry. Honestly... I'm not really sure. What I AM sure about, is that it's weird.
If I only expressed my love for my partner one day out of the year, well... I probably wouldn't have a partner. The point is, shouldn't every day be Valentine's Day? And if you honor your love all year, and still want to go that extra mile on February 14th, more power to ya. I just don't get it. So you want to do all the stereotypical sh*t that every other person is doing, on the EXACT SAME DAY they are doing it?? OMG you bought her flowers??? SHOCKING!! (The latter should be in sarcasm font.)
Now don't get me wrong, I rather enjoy Valentine's Day. But not for the reasons you'd probably expect. I love the cheesiness, the corniness, the over the top-ness of it all. The glitter, the glitz, the sparkle & fun. The candy, the hearts, the pure happiness of it is grand. I love the IDEA of Valentine's Day more than I love the actual holiday. I am a highly affectionate individual, and if you know me, you can vouch for this. I am a hugger, kisser, pincher, spanker, tell you I love you-er. I adore the notion of a day where we tell people how we feel about them. I think this gives people who aren't as open as myself, the chance to share their feelings, emotions, and heart-felt truths. The problem, is that most people don't do that. They share someone else's feelings. They buy a card filled with flowery, beautiful words, but they aren't THEIR words. They buy the gifts that they think they are supposed to, not the gifts that come from the heart.
This is why I think Valentine's Day is weird, and I don't get it.
I don't celebrate Valentine's Day in the traditional sense. The hubs and I have never really done that. It's just not our thing. But I DO celebrate it. I often buy or make special cards & gifts, and share them with people I care about. Friends, family, neighbors, co-workers, etc. I try to focus on people who may not otherwise get a Valentine, or who can use some extra care. I think everyone deserves to be told they are loved, even if that love comes from the goofy relative, or girl next door.
I prefer the grade school days of handmade mailboxes, and cards & treats for everyone. You saved the best cards for your crushes, but no one was left out. It was a fun, carefree, happy time.
Now a days, Valentine's Day feels more like a f*ck you to all the single people, and a relationship test for all the couples. Ladies are filled with expectations, and guys are sweating bullets, hoping to stay out of the doghouse. The pressure to force "romance" and keep up with the next guy would make anyone crazy.
I worked for Hallmark for over 15 years, and in all that time, I can count on one hand how many people I saw come in actually excited and happy about Valentine's Day. The rest were just following the crowd, and doing what they thought was expected of them. Is that what love should be? An expectation? Is that how you judge the quality of adoration? With flowers and chocolates? If it is, maybe you need to rethink your standards.
I guess my point is this: If you want to celebrate on Friday, go for it. Buy all the chocolates, overpriced flowers, jewelry, and fancy dinners you can afford. Shower your partner with rose petals, and champagne, if that's what makes you happy. But do it BECAUSE it makes you happy. Not because you think you have to. And if that's not your thing... stay home, order Chinese, watch funny movies, and eat yourself into an ice cream coma. Celebrate however you want to celebrate, not how some advertiser or stereotype tells you to. Valentine's Day is about love, in whatever form that comes in. Whether it's between spouses, friends, family, or even just yourself. And if February 14th is the only day you celebrate that love... I feel sorry for you. But if it is... well then, by all means... go crazy, and get that extra large teddy bear, since it will probably be the only thing you get to cuddle for awhile.
Happy Valentine's Day, Berry Friends. I love you all, and not just one day of the year.

 

If Life Was Like The Movies....

Have you ever watched a movie with one of those people who feel compelled to critique each and every thing? You know the ones, they'll tell you how impossible that stunt is, or why medically, someone couldn't really survive that kind of an injury, blah blah blah. My hubs likes to comment on all car scenes. "That's not what that motor sounds like." or "Pssh... yeah, that would totally blow up like that for no reason." and so on and so forth. The point is, who cares? I don't. Movies are meant to entertain. They aren't real life. We KNOW this. Yet, we still want to get all salty when something is "unrealistic".
Well not me. I am fully aware that life is not like the movies. BUT... that's not to say that I wouldn't like it if some things WERE like the movies. Here's why:

*Car chases and lots of them. I mean c'mon... who hasn't wanted to be in a sick car chase? Driving backwards on the highway, dodging police cars, jumping shit. Yeah.. I'll take that.
*The good guys always win. In real life, we know this isn't always the case, but in the movies, 98% of the time it is.
*No closing doors, turning off and on lights, etc. Seriously... who pays the utility bills for these folks? Have you EVER seen someone come in and close a door behind them in a movie? Or turn off a light? The lights are just always on. It's like Motel 6 up in there.
*Your hair and make-up are perfect 24-7. Whether you just stepped out of a shower, woke up, made passionate love, had an emotional breakdown, or stood in the middle of a tornado... you look fabulous.
*There's always a soundtrack. Personally, I like to think my life actually has a soundtrack, and it involves a lot of 80s power ballads and anthems, but I'm the only one who can hear it. Wouldn't it be nice if other people could too?
*Sex would never be awkward. No spontaneous leg cramps, no accidental flying elbows, no unintended hair pulling. No "Don't look at my undies, I haven't done laundry in a week, and I didn't know this was going to happen." moments. And every position would be flattering. Not to mention, no mess to clean up, you just roll over and fall right into blissful sleep. Just once, I'd like to see someone grab a towel after.
*Shit is always blowing up. Seriously, does everyone have dynamite, C4, and grenades in their pockets? Walking slowly away from a giant, fiery, mushroom cloud-esque explosion is #38 on my bucket list.
*You never have to use the bathroom. Like ever. Frodo and Sam walked the entire length of Middle Earth, and not once did I hear one of them say "Where's a Quickie Mart, I gotta pee." or "That elf cheese has me tore up. I'll be right back." Nope. Not one time.
*People are more attractive. It's a wonder anyone in the movies can keep their pants on. Every security guard, waitress, and assorted passerby is eye candy. Mmm, mmm, mmm. Break me off a piece of that.

I think you catch my drift. Movies are great, and they certainly entertain, but unless you are watching a documentary, odds are they aren't going to be very realistic. And that's ok... it's good to escape reality from time to time. And on that note... I'm off to the potty, since this isn't a movie, and my bladder is real, and quite full. Happy Friday, y'all.

Ugh.... Winter

Winter. A magical, beautiful time of year. The world is blanketed in white, and shimmers in the rays of the sun. The gently falling snow is like being inside an elegant snowglobe, shaken by the hand of God....

SAID NO ONE EVER!!!!!!

If you live in a place that has winter for more than a week, you get over the beauty pretty quickly. After about the bajillionth time shoveling your driveway, the magic disappears. When you are outside in negative temps, scraping off your car for the second or third time in a day, you start cursing the Heavens.
Winter sucks. Period. Even if you are a self proclaimed winter lover, there comes a point when even you start plotting Jack Frost's gruesome end.
Winter is exhausting. Just going to work can be a chore. From getting up early to shovel a path just to clean off and start your car, to the often treacherous road conditions, to the layering and unlayering of your attire.
The layering is a big issue for me, mostly because I find clothing annoying. Pants are a real pain, so I prefer the summer, when I can rock my sundresses and skirts, and my thighs can be free from their denim straightjacket. And I hate shoes. My little piggies like to roam wild and free, and feel the grass between them. And socks are obviously a tool of the devil, meant to keep my feet trapped in cotton hell.
Ugh... ANYWHO....
Winter. That evil, vile, repulsive, unrelenting time of year. Grey, bleak, barren, and frigid. It drags on for eons, and puts even the most chipper among us into a funk. The winter blues. It's a real thing, Google it. Obviously, I have, so I am qualified to self diagnose. The winter blues strike me sometime shortly after the first snowfall. When I know that the last Indian summer day is long gone, and nothing but misery lies in the months ahead. I start dreaming of sandy beaches, fruity cocktails, and bare skin warmed by the sun. I just want to hibernate until Spring. I get cranky, short tempered, and whiny. I hate being cold. Once I get a chill, nothing short of setting me on fire eliminates it. Normal activities become tedious. A quick trip to the grocery store becomes a dreaded Arctic trek, and holds as much appeal as an acid bath. So you stayed cooped up in the relative comfort of your home as much as possible. This puts a strain on your relationships, and you start to forget what your loved ones look like. So you make sock puppets with photos of their faces, and pretend to have parties. OK, so maybe you don't actually do that, but winter makes you so crazy, that anything is possible.
The point is.... Winter sucks. It's a hassle, it's costly, it's depressing, and it lasts freaking FOREVER. And while you *might* wish for a white Christmas, by Valentine's Day, you are seeing red, and not from all the shiny hearts.
This year has been record breaking for low temps, snowfall, and overall shittyness, and I'm certain I'm not the only one who is totally and completely over it.
So winter, take a hike. You are no longer wanted here. This is me, officially breaking up with you. I'm ready to see someone else... Her name is Spring, and she's beautiful.

My Mask...

There is a wonderful facebook page I follow, Silent Grief - Child Loss Support (Click here to visit the page.) that seems to know exactly what I am thinking most days. Today, they made a post about how grieving parents are Big Pretenders. This means that we often pretend to be ok, when in fact, we are far from it. I've talked about this before many times (most notably in this post), and I usually refer to it as my Mask. This Mask is something I put on every day, much like my make-up, jewelry, and clothing. I wear it to blend in, and to appear normal. Most often it is for the benefit of others. But recently, it's come to my attention that I may just be wearing it selfishly, too.
It's true that most people don't want to deal with the sadness of others. Whether they realize it or not, many individuals will actively avoid someone who is depressed, sad, angry, or hurting. And grieving parents are all of these things and more, all the time. So we are often avoided, shunned, and ignored. This is something I learned very early on in my Grief, and quickly adjusted to. Hence, my Mask. The more normal you appear, the less awkward and uncomfortable it is for those around you. But it isn't just about them. Many times, it's about me. I don't want to feel awkward either. I've seen the reactions I get when I say that I lost my son. It's like telling someone that you've got a bomb strapped to your chest. They slowly back away and then run as fast as they can in the opposite direction. The Mask keeps that from happening. I can just pretend to be normal, goofy, happy Teena, and no one is the wiser. Then when they learn about my son, they are less likely to judge me based solely on that fact. Yes, I am a grieving parent, and that is a HUGE part of who I am. My son is a huge part of who I am, and I would never pretend otherwise. I will talk about him, and sometimes I may get emotional for what appears to be no reason. These are also parts of me now. But there IS more to me, and I want others to see that too. So I wear my Mask. For them, and for me.
Last week, I was called upon for jury selection. I spent 2 days sitting in a courtroom listening to a judge, and a panel of lawyers ask endless questions, in an attempt to find a group of 14 people who could be unbiased. As I sat there, ready to explode, feeling overwhelmed, and looking for any means of escape, I realized something. I was not ready for this. Tomorrow will be 18 months since we lost Zachary. I have worn my Mask nearly every one of those days. And in doing so, I had begun to convince even myself that I was doing ok. But the thing is... I'm not. And the cold hard truth of it is, I never will be. I can fake it, wear my Mask, and pretend to be normal, but I never really will be. And sitting in that courtroom, praying they didn't call my number, I realized that. I knew that I couldn't sit through a trial for 3 young men, not much older than my son. I knew that even if I thought they were guilty, I wouldn't be able to look their mother's in the eye, and take their little boys away from them. I knew that I couldn't look at photos of injuries and trauma, and not see the face of my son in that hospital bed. But above and beyond all of that, I knew that I was not ok, and that I would have to admit that. Out loud. To a room full of strangers.
And that's exactly what happened. They called my number, and I walked to that chair, and when the judge asked me if there was any reason I could not participate in this trial... I said yes. And when he asked me to elaborate, I explained why. I admitted to him that I had recently lost my son, and I was not in any condition emotionally to be able to handle the stress of a trial. Luckily, he dismissed me immediately. But in that moment, looking him in the eye, I wasn't just admitting that to him... I was admitting that to myself. I'm not ok. I'm not fine. This Mask isn't really me.
I need to start taking the Mask off. Maybe not for long periods of time, but sometimes. Maybe just when I'm alone, or with certain people. This frightens me, but I know I have to do it.
While in the waiting room at the courthouse, I sat with the same group of people both days. We could sit anywhere, but we opted to sit by each other. On the second day, after chatting amongst ourselves, we discovered something. Out of 4 of us at the table, 3 had lost children. The fourth had lost a brother, so he also knew what grieving parents went through, he had seen it first hand. In the time since losing my son, I have only met one other person who had lost a child. Now here I sat with two. One had lost their child five years before, to cancer, and the other to suicide, 16 years prior. We talked. We cried. We shared stories, and kindness. For a few fleeting moments, I almost felt normal. I could honestly express what I was feeling and thinking, and these people understood. We had each removed our masks, and we had found a strange comfort together. So maybe I can do this. Maybe I can risk taking this Mask off from time to time, and test the waters. If three strangers can find each other in a room of hundreds, I suppose anything is possible....