Run

Hello friends...

Longtime readers are looking at the title of my blog and asking "did she start running again?  Wasn't she like banned from that?"

The answers:
No
and
Yes

No I am not running.  I value my knees too much.  And yes, I am still banned.

How I wish my knees had not been so abused by 300 pounds...but they were...and some days I feel it more than others.  I know Dr. Harvey will happily fix my left one up as good as my right but frankly if I am going under the knife I would prefer it was for a tummy tuck and not my knees...only because selfishly I want a flat stomach that no amount of crunches will take care of...only Dr. Bonnie Baldwin can do that kind of magic...and it requires surgery...

So I take care of my knees.

I don't run...

I do however modify things in exercise class so I can continue to WALK...and since I am so obsessed over this class that JayVee teaches I modify so I can keep doing it.

What? I haven't blogged about my obsession with her Total Body Jam (TBJ) class?

Oh dear...or maybe you are just lucky because I am OBSESSED with it.

I'm also doing her Strike class which I like but do not LOVE like I do the TBJ class...mostly because I am sooooo uncoordinated in Strike which is a cross between kickboxing and being a samurai warrior.

Not kidding...

And they both kick my bootie...but in a good way.

The first time I took TBJ I texted JayVee that it literally hurt to turn my steering wheel and I had to ask The Cutest Boy in the World to help my pull my top off.

Speaking of TCBITW...I just have to share...cause this is funny...so the other day he is playing Xbox and linked up through the DevilBox (my name for it) with his friends...he is playing "Call of Duty" and I go in and kiss him and he says:

"Um Mom...don't kiss me!!!!  I'm trying to assassinate people here!!!!"

Yeah...I texted that to DragonLady right away...

Words I never want to hear uttered again by my 14 year old son...

But I digress...and I have wandered off topic YET AGAIN...I do that alot...my children have threatened to crush their ADD meds into my coffee...

Ok so back to TJB and Strike...I burn mega calories and it makes me feel a bit like an athlete to do it.  I mean spin is awesome and fun and still my favorite form of cardio but TBJ and Strike make me feel like I'm you know...kicking some butt....

You see I am sooooooo not an athlete...

I was literally the last person picked for teams during PE...always...

I'm a good dancer...particularly ballet and contemporary...and drill team stuff...and I was a cheerleader but I have no skills when it comes to hitting things with a stick or catching things or throwing things...

Epic fail...

and I do mean EPIC FAIL!

I think I may have mentioned the day one of the lacrosse coaches tried to teach me how to throw a ball into the net and was in danger of losing valuable body parts...my son experienced the same thing trying to teach me the same skill...

I can't play golf...I even had a golf coach once tell me "close your eyes and pray for the best"

I can't play softball...

I can't play basketball (heck I even have trouble with the tiny bit of "dribbling" JayVee has us do in TBJ)...and tossing and catching the 4 lb ball...fuhgetaboutit...

No skills...no skills...

I just can't do anything that requires handling balls...

Oh go and get your minds out of the gutter because as I typed that I came to the same conclusion about that sentence but I am leaving it because I can't handle them...

or should I rephrase to...

I can't do anything that requires handling SPORTS balls...

as to the other...well, that is just TMI...and right now we are discussing TJB....

So as I meander along writing this blog you are wondering just where the heck is she going to end up?

First it was running...then exercise class...then TCBITW and video games...then sports...

Well...that is where we are ending up...

SPORTS

Because it is my favorite TV time of all...the Olympics!

Actually I like the Winter Games better but I honestly can't get enough of the swimming and diving and running and gymnastics...

I'm not going to dissect the Opening Ceremonies here (yes, they were good...loved Sir Paul...loved the big house with the video screens) or the fact that Ryan Lochte is hotter than crap...you can go elsewhere for that...

although every once in a while I might have to spontaneously bust out with a "Ryan Lochte is hotter than crap"....

I bet he can drive a big ass truck...too bad he's too young and out of reach for me...

He.Is.Hot.

So I plan on od'ing on sports watching since I obviously can't play any sports.

I DID try to do gymnastics but I found I had 2 major hurdles to overcome that I just couldn't seem to get myself over:

1) I am deathly afraid of heights (and yes that balance beam is HIGH and so are those bars)
and
2) I am afraid of going backwards...

yes, backwards...

I was flexible enough and I have good rhythm...and I am strong...and I can launch myself pretty high...but when it came to getting on that damn beam and doing flips...

fuhgetaboutit

So I never mastered a back flip flop or a back flip...

I even tried to take some gymnastics classes at the high school in Kingsville when I was in the 7th grade.  The head coach at the high school was Coach Lewis.  He called me "Little Miss Won't Bo Backwards".  I love him anyway...

7 years later when I was at A&M I worked in the computer lab in the Ag department.

My boss was a woman named Carol Lewis.

I loved her...she loved me...so one day she got her husband to come up and meet us for lunch.

Yes...you guessed it...

He walked in...Coach Lewis...looked at me...started laughing and with tears streaming down his face he said "well if it isn't Little Miss Won't Go Backward"...I loved them...they were great "extra" parents for me when I was in school.  And try as he might, he could not get me on the beam or to go backwards...

(And we stop now and take a little commercial break from this blog so I can say once again that Ryan Lochte is hotter than crap)

So yes, I have utterly failed at every sport I have ever tried.

It's just not in me...

Unless you count cheerleading (not the competitive crazy ponytail and glitter competitive kind but the basic high school cheerleading), I am not an athlete.

I was a cheerleader my senior year of high school.

I did it to tick off the drill team coach.

My plan backfired when I made cheerleader.

I loved the rest of my cheerleading team and once I got over being laughed at at cheerleading camp because everyone thought our team name (The Antlers) was hilarious, I sorta enjoyed it.

And yes, Antlers is a stupid name for a team.

But hey...we were in a district with the likes of the Billygoats, the Gobblers, and the Unicorns.

I'll take Antlers thankyouverymuch...

Ok so Lochte is getting ready to swim.

Have I mentioned that he is hotter than crap?

So no...I don't run...and no I don't do sports...

But I do enjoy watching the Olympics and I do especially enjoy the swimming and the track and the gymnastics...

And in my dreams...I can swim like Dara Torres...flip like Gabby Douglas...I'm as gorgeous as a member of the Dutch Field Hockey team (have you seen those girls? As Daddy would say...chickipoos!)...I look as good in a bikini as Misty May-Treanor...I can throw a javelin and look as gorgeous doing it as Leryn Franco (look her up...OMG)...

And I can run...and I run like the wind...like Malibu Barbie running like the wind...and my knees don't hurt...and my flab doesn't jiggle...

But in real life...well I am no where close to that...but you know what?  I don't care...

I got JayVee and Total Body Jam...

And that, my friends, is as good as it gets...and I'm just fine with it...

Because when you can have fun while burning calories and one of your best friends (who is awesome) teaches it...

Well, that is a gold medal in my book...

Because from where I came from (not being able to go up the stairs without losing my breath) to being able to do 17 "burpees" in 45 seconds and not puking...

Um yeah, that is winning a medal...at least to me...

Now get me to that podium, throw that gold around my neck, and hand me those flowers...

and cue that National Anthem...

Because any day you can push yourself and work hard...well, you may not be in London at the Olympics but you are a winner...

Inspiration Song: "Run"...soooooo many versions of this song...I first heard it in Body Pump...but then I heard the original version by Snow Patrol and loved it...and then I heard Leona Lewis' version and I became obsessed...but my favorite version was sung by Katherine McPhee on the tv show "Smash" but stupidly NBC did NOT release that version on iTunes...but if someone knows how I can get it I will be grateful...it is a GORGEOUS song...makes me cry...pick your favorite...for me until I can get Katherine it is Leona...heartbreaking and beautiful song...

Oh, and did I mention Ryan Lochte is hotter than crap? Even if he didn't hold onto the lead in the relay he is still hotter than crap...

Bye Darlings...enjoy watching what the best athletes in the world are doing in London...but be a gold medal winner yourself...try something new...try something that scares you...(shout out to RadiantRita...I'm holding your hand baby girl...you know what I 'm talking about )...like Nike says...just do it...

tomorrow...I'm gonna go backwards...maybe just a back roll...but I'm gonna do it...

You Get What You Give

The other night I came home and found THE MOST PERFECT GIFT on my doorstep!

I like gifts just fine, but I'm a giver so I am usually happier when I GIVE a gift than when I receive one...but when someone find you THE MOST PERFECT GIFT...well, you just have to LOVE LOVE LOVE it...

And blog about it...

So let me tell you...and show you...what was on my doorstep...

(I apologize now for the poor quality of my photos...I need a new lens on my camera...gonna get to "Fix Your Gadget" (yes, they will fix your iPhone here in Houston) and get it taken care of)

Yes, that is a real, honest-to-God, vintage Barbie case!

Inside...

Yes, that is MALIBU BARBIE!!!!

I don't keep her in the case...she lives on my nightstand so I can see her every day...see...

She is so perfect and beautiful!  She even has her little towel.

I'm considering getting her some clothes so I can play dress up with her...

So where did she come from?

I have a nickname among some of my friends...yup, you guessed it...Malibu Barbie.

I'm rather fond of my tan and my bleached (from the sun) hair.  If only I had her figure...but I'm working on it.

So my friend Marvelous Margaret...who I am renaming "Dragon Lady" on this blog for reasons known to her and me...spent most of June calling me Malibu Barbie when she saw me...she still does...

So she was at a vintage store and voila...she found the doll and a case.

Now I have to tell you, it is one of the BEST gifts ever...because it was given for fun...and love...and friendship...and because I totally LOVE LOVE LOVE Malibu Barbie!

I cried when I saw the case...and then the tears would not stop when I opened up the case and saw her inside...and I knew that Dragon Lady is a very special friend indeed.

You know you are really blessed when a good friend gives you a gift that is simply PERFECT!

And this one is perfect...

It's just like my 1/2 birthday gift that GOTT and GOTTESS and GOTTSON gave me 2 years ago...my favorite coffee mug that says "Don't make me call the flying monkeys"...it is a statement I often tell the kids at school...and every time I drink coffee from it I love GOTT and GOTTESS and GOTTSON even more.

Last year for my birthday GOTTESS gave me the sweetest card about being friends and a little book about friendship...I keep them both in my nightstand so that I can smile and feel the love with which they were given.  She is a special friend indeed...

And as you can see my nightstand is my treasure place...

I also keep a gift that my friend SuperSue (she was one of my camp counselors) gave me...it is a joke gift but it reminds me of camp...

what is it you ask?

(of course you want to know...)

well, this one is unusual...

once upon a time at Friday Mountain Girls Camp someone decided that when Julie (the best camp director ever and who's love and approval I want and treasure as much as my own mother's) said we should SHARE...well, that camper decided to SHARE...

the stomach bug....

Yes, about 60% of the camp fell victim to a vile form of the stomach bug...

And so one of the campers decided that while she was locked up in the infirmary cabin that she would write a manifesto about the ills of the stomach bug...

she wrote it on toilet paper...

SuperSue ended up with it...and she sent it to me...and I treasure it...because it reminds me of camp and even though I fell victim to it, I remember the year fondly...

I even wrote a play for us to perform at camp about it...I called it "The Wizard of Kidd" (the camp was owned by the Kidd family).  It was a take-off on The Wizard of Oz.  The wicked witch was named "Montezuma's Revenge" and she was killed when Dorothy threw Pepto Bismol on her...

I thought it was a pretty clever play...I myself was not Dorothy but the scarecrow...

So I keep the toilet paper manifesto there in my drawer...

The best wedding gift I received was a handmade quilt lovingly stitched by LovelyLinda.  I treasure that quilt.  When I packed up for the hurricane it went into a plastic tub for safekeeping.  I sleep with it when I don't feel good.

The marriage didn't last but the quilt did...and I'm lucky that LovelyLinda is still my friend.

My Aunt Jane (the Best Person in the World) gives me a lot of amazing gifts.  But one of the best is a photo collage that reminds me of how far I have come with my weight loss.  And a photo frame that she managed to buy when I wasn't looking when we went to Oprah.

My friend D-nice gave me the best gift for Christmas...she got me a beautiful apron and some herbs de provence as a promise that we are going to cook our way through Julia Child together.  Even if we don't get through all the recipes I will treasure getting to cook next to one of the people I love most in this world.

I gave her a bottle just like they used on "I Dream of Jeannie"...she keeps it in here bedroom...it cost next to nothing but it symbolizes a mutual love we have...

My friend Angel Amy gave me a great gift when she made me apply for the Oprah show...

And Twirler Girl knows the way to my heart because she gave me a Rabbit...no not the "naughty" kind like on Sex and the City...but a Rabbit wine opener!

(hahahaha...I got you there!  I did the same thing to D-nice when I texted her and told her I got her a Rabbit...she wasn't sure if I meant the wine opener, the "toy" or a bunny...)

So you see...a REAL gift is one that touches you in a way you can't forget...

I try and do that when I can...

I gave GOTT a mug that reminds him of how special he is...he likes to drink his hot tea from it.  I also got him a hot water boiler to use at work so he could make his tea...he likes tea...

I've got something special picked out for GOTTESS this year...but I'm not telling cause she reads this...but hey GOTTESS...I know what you want!!!!!

I have a friend who had a bunch of t-shirts that he was holding on to but no longer wore.  He asked me what I thought he should do with them.  I told him to give them to me if he trusted me...he did trust me and he gave me the shirts.  I had a quilt made out of them for him.  He teared up when I gave him the quilt and declared it the nicest thing anyone had done for him.  It was a simple gift but a lovely way for him to remember what the shirts meant even if he can't wear them...and now he doesn't have to part with them.  I did it as a gift but it was also a test run because I want to do the same thing with my son's camp t-shirts.

(www.campusquilt.com)

The other day a friend mentioned that after her grandmother died she had a lot of chenille blankets that they were trying to figure out what to do with.  They had teddy bears made from the blankets and she treasures hers...what a great idea!  What a great gift...

Ke$ha Barbie collects old vinyl albums...I found "Pet Sounds" by the Beach Boys for her...we love that album and how it changed music...she framed it...but to me it represents our mutual love of music and that I taught her that some of the best stuff comes from the past...

The other day I ordered JayVee something for her new house...it's not much and it really is just something for her pantry but I knew she would appreciate it and I knew that every time she opened the pantry she would appreciate having it there.  It's not what you spend, but it is about thinking about what the other person NEEDS sometimes...she was going to get it for herself but it was more fun to surprise her...and she does so much for me that I loved doing it...

But really I think one of the best gifts we can give is our time...be it to help a friend move...or to listen when someone needs you...or an afternoon to just laugh together.

But the BEST gift of all is love...not a thing...just to give your love...freely...

I read "The 5 Love Languages for Singles" (all of the books are good but that one applied to me best).  But the 5 languages are the same whether you are single or not: Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Acts of Service and Receiving Gifts.

For me, the languages I NEED most are Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch.

Because of that I freely give them...I love to tell people how much I love them and support them and I meant it each and every time.  And I'm a hugger and kisser...you are gonna get hugged whether you like it or not with me....

What I don't need to be given to me is Acts of Service and Gifts...but when they are given to me, I really do appreciate it.  Funny thing is that I love to do acts of service and I love to GIVE gifts.  And I always appreciate Quality Time because I freely give it.

But I DO need words of affirmation from those I love...it was a problem in my marriage and the man who wins my heart (and hopefully drives a big ass truck...still holding out for that) will be one who gives me those words of affirmation...and his physical touch will be one that sends a thrill through me each and every time.  It's not about "that" (you know what I mean...but yeah that's good too)...it's the holding of a hand when walking in a parking lot...or a kiss because dinner tastes great...or rubbing my back while we watch tv...those little touches...

So I speak all 5 love languages...I give freely of each...

I'm a giver...I love to give little gifts and big ones...I love to listen for 5 minutes or 5 hours when a friend needs me to...I love to help out when someone needs a hand.

And in return I have amazing friends...

If you get what you give...well then I get a whole lot...not because I'm so great...it's just that I chose to love freely and give freely...and in return I get a lot...

Inspiration Song: "You Get What You Give" by New Radicals.  It's a great song...I have always loved it...not really a song about giving but it's still good...

Bye Darlings...today I am giving you a blog...because I have to celebrate my Malibu Barbie...you should all be as lucky as me to have a Dragon Lady in your life that knows you so well that she gets you the perfect gift...I love you friends...and I love you Dragon Lady!!!!

The Good Life

My sweet little precious 93 year old Grandma passed away last Friday.

I am named for her...Anice.

But her name is pronounced "Aa-nis" and I am "Uh-neice" (like "hello, I am Jane's niece Anice" and it rhymes.   So my name rhymes with "niece" and her name is like Janice without the "J".  I much prefer her pronunciation...more elegant...more southern...

She fell and hit her head...but the way I look at it, it was her time...it was her time to go and be with God and her husbands.  She had Alzheimer's and had it for quite a while...but I can tell you that she managed to live a long good life even with the Alzheimer's...

Yes, note the plural on "husbands"...

My awesome Grandma outlived 3 husbands!

Her first husband, who was my biological grandfather died young and left my Grandma a young widow.  My mother was only 16 years old.  He died when his plane crashed into the Atlantic.  Ironically they found the plane when the investigators were looking for the remnants of TWA Flight 800 which crashed into the Atlantic in July of 1996...but at least my family had complete closure even though it was a shock for them to find the aircraft so long after he crashed.

When I was about 2 my Grandma married the man I refer to as my Grandpa.  His name was Bob...but for me he was always Grandpa.  I was totally spoiled by him...and my Grandma.  Being the oldest grandchild I got more than my fair share of doting upon.  Uh yeah...like taking me out to eat a footlong hot dog when I was 10 even though I could only eat 6 inches of it...but yeah, they let me have it anyway.

Spoiled rotten...that was me...

After Grandpa passed away Grandma came to live with my mom for a while...but in 1998 she married her high school sweetheart who was named John.  Yes, some 50+ years later they reunited and got married.  John waited a long time to have his Anice...and they were very happy until he sadly passed away several years later...but they had about 6 lovely years together.  I'm bad with the dates and years details...

When Grandma was living with my mom Ke$ha Barbie spent a great deal of time with her.  Mom and I would look for Ke$ha Barbie and then we would realize she was upstairs with her "Gigi" (great grandmother).  We would find them having a grand time together in my Grandma's little apartment that was attached to my mom's house.  Ke$ha Barbie loved loved loved her Gigi...and when she was little she spent time playing with Grandma's various collections...like her bell collection...which I also played with as a child.

Once summer I spent several weeks up in Overland Park, KS with my Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Jane and Aunt Gayle.  We had the best time...my sister Noel was with me and we had a blast every day being up there.  Gayle grew some strawberries and Grandma taught me how to make strawberry shortcake.  I can't have it for dessert without thinking about her and the shortcake!

I also learned what saccharine was.  She and Grandpa would put the little saccharine tabs in their coffee and I would try and sneak some...at first it would taste good and then it got a bitter taste...but when I see saccharine tablets I think of my grandparents.

My Grandma was a secretary.  And a darn good one.  She would often type letters to me...last Christmas my aunts found a letter she had typed to me but for some reason never sent.  I think the reason was that I needed that letter more 32 years later than I did when she sent it to me...it was about my parents divorce and to be brave...and that letter helped me stay brave through my divorce even though I knew I was doing the right thing.

Once time my ex and I (while we were still married) took Ke$ha Barbie and The Cutest Boy in the World (TCBITW) on a road trip to Florida.  Along the way we stopped in Laurel, MS to visit Grandma and Grandpa John.  They lived in a cute little apartment complex in Laurel.  There was a pond by the mailbox area and some geese lived there.  For some reason one of the geese HATED my Grandma.  I don't know why...but John told us the goose (or maybe it was a duck but I'm pretty sure it was a goose)  would see Grandma and go after her.  Sure enough that goose saw my sweet little Grandma and he started flapping his wings and running after her as we stood by the pond.

Dumb goose...he should have chased me...

Grandma loved to sing...especially to Frank Sinatra.  Even at 93 she could still carry a tune and would sing her favorite songs.  She taught me some songs---the one I remember most was "Marzy Doats" (you know...mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy...").  I loved singing that with her when I was little...

One of my favorite stories about Grandma didn't happen to me...it actually is a story about my sister Susu (Susan) and Grandma.  Once when Grandma was visiting and Susu was about 6 they were outside by the pool.

Grandma pointed to the gate (that led to the front yard) and asked Susu "Susan, where does this gate go?"

Susu answered (quite matter-of-factly my grandmother said): "Nowhere Grandma!  It just stays here!  It doesn't GO anywhere!!!!"

Gosh but I love that story...

This Christmas was my last with my sweet Grandma.  When I arrived on Christmas day to my Aunt Jane's house Grandma looked at me curiously and I could tell she wasn't sure who I was.  I think sometimes she thought I was my mother (once I lost my weight)...and I think my weight loss did confuse her a bit.

We sat down to Christmas lunch and I scored the spot across the table from Grandma.  There were several people at the table and we were all chatting.

In the middle of the meal Grandma looked up from her plate and smiled at me and said "Hi Nicey!"

And she's back!!!!!!!

Woo hoo she knew who I was...I got about 5 minutes of her knowing that it was ME sitting there across from her.

Best.Christmas.Present.Ever.

Truly was....

Grandma was loving her lunch that day...we were all having a great time.  I loved eating that last meal with her that way.

In the middle of the meal my wonderful Aunt Evelyn (who is married to my uncle) came in and was kissing and hugging everyone.  She kissed Grandma...and after she walked away Grandma said "Who is that ?" (lest you think she didn't love my Aunt Evelyn, I assure you she did...she asked "Who is that" about EVERYONE because she was 92 at that time and had Alzheimer's).

I said "Grandma, that's Evelyn!"

she still looked confused...

Jane said "Phil's wife!"

Grandma looked across the table and said to us "Who would marry Phil?"

We lost it laughing...and when you are 92 you can say whatever you want...

And lest you think she didn't love my Uncle Phil I can assure you she did...but he didn't get married until he was in his early 50's...but that is just because he was waiting for the right one to come along and that right one is my Tia Evelyn (I call her that because she is Puerto Rican...and I love love love her!).

So what else can I tell you about my grandmother?

She cut the heads off of almost everyone when she took a picture...

She loved the color blue...

She loved my father even after he divorced my mother...

Losing my mother broke her heart and I have to say I'm glad she had Alzheimer's so she didn't have to have the pain of remembering she lost her oldest child every day...

There wasn't anyone who met her that didn't love her...

She had beautiful eyes and an amazing smile...

She had a great sense of humor...

She loved Burger King Chicken Sandwiches...

She hated sushi but gamely tried it every time we went to the sushi bar...

She loved cookies...especially chocolate chip ones!  I gave her a special cookie jar one year for Christmas and she always kept her cookies there...

She was born in Laurel, MS and was a southern belle in every sense of the word...

She was a tiny petite thing...but in my eyes she was always mighty...

Once when my mom was "frosting" Grandma's hair I told Grandma that it looked like "her hair was worms"...she wasn't all that happy about what my mother was doing anyway so she answered me with "Nicey, that is not helping..."....I still laugh about that...

She loved to dance...she and Grandpa spent a lot of evenings dancing their hearts out...in fact we lost my sweet Grandpa one night to a heart attack after they had been out dancing...

She always called me "Nicey" (rhymes with piecey)

She was the best grandma ever...she was wonderful...

Inspiration Song: "The Good Life" by Frank Sinatra...I think it's perfect...

Bye Darlings...I hope you were all as lucky as me to have the best grandma ever...I know I was...she was simply the best and I was blessed to have her...

God Only Knows

Today is my Aunt Jane's birthday.

She's 28...give or take a few years...I'm not gonna give away her age...but I can assure those of you who have not met her that she is NOT a decrepit old woman...she's just a few years older than me.

And God only knows where I would be without her.

Recently I was asked to name the person who has had the most influence on my life.

My answer: my Aunt Jane

Those of you who know me well might have guessed I would have said my mother...but nope...the person who has had the most influence on my life has been my Aunt Jane.

You see, my mom was my MOM.

And, as wonderful a mom as she was, she wasn't always able to be the BEST mom.  She had some issues...not all her fault.

But there were times when my mom just wasn't able to be the adult in my life that I needed.

And thank God (and I do mean I THANK GOD) that my Aunt Jane was and always will be.

I've learned a lot from her...like what not to put in a blender to make a drink...yeah, we tried that a few times...ice cream and certain liquors don't work.

She took me to see my first R rated movie...and explained what I didn't understand.  It was "Animal House"...seems pretty tame now...

When I went to Oprah it was an easy decision for Jane to be the person to come with me.  She had been my support system and she was the best person to keep me calm and help me be ready for the show.  We had a blast...and when I buckled my seatbelt (on the plane) for the first time without needing a seat extender, I was really happy she was the one sitting next to me.

I had to re-do my will after my divorce.

I knew without a doubt the person I needed in my corner is Jane.  So if I'm laying in a hospital hooked up to machines, she will know what to do.

She will...I don't doubt if for a moment.

She has unselfishly taken care of my 93 year old grandmother for many years...and Grandma has Alzheimers...but Jane never complained and did it all with love.  Only recently did she hand Grandma's daily care over to some skilled caretakers...Jane has a full-time job and caring for a 90+ year old Alzeheiemer's patient is more than a full time job.

She did it out of love.

Like everything else she does.

I don't know a single person who has met her that doesn't love her.

All of my friends love her and want her to be "their" aunt.  Trainer Girl is at the top of the list.

Me and Trainer Girl spend every Sunday during the summer so we can lie like lizards in the sun and then watch "True Blood"...but yesterday we altered our plans to spend it with Jane and some of her friends...I did not have to twist Trainer Girl's arm to get her to agree to the change of schedule.  She loves loves loves Jane.

Whenever I have needed someone to confide in ...to pour my heart out to...to hold me...

Well, Jane is there...always...always...always...

She gives so much of herself and never expects anything in return.

And heaven knows I ask a whole lot of her...some days I ask the world of her...

When I was having my typical teenage "my mother doesn't understand me" times, I turned to Jane.  She listened and played mediator.

Now that Ke$ha Barbie is having her "my mother doesn't understand me" times, she often asks if she can move in with Jane.

Not much changes...even between the generations.

I was so lucky I got to share so much of my childhood and my adult life with Jane.  When I was a kid I even convinced her to be a counselor at my camp just so I could have her near me.

Sneaky little plan but it worked.  I was jealous as heck when she ended up in my sister's cabin but it didn't matter...I still had the pride of knowing that the most popular counselor at camp was always gonna love me best...ha!

And she has loved me at times when I have not been lovable at all.

And she has loved me when I have done the wrong thing but she needed me to fail to see it was wrong.

And she has supported me when I didn't think I could stand on my own two feet.

And she does that with EVERYONE.

2 years ago I wrote a blog about her ("Jane") and I told this story...but to me it is worth repeating because it says it all about our relationship...

When I was about 5 or so my parents took us to Hawaii and they brought Jane along to help out watching us.

Jane took us to the beach.  I ran into the water...not very deep but enough to be in the water.

A HUGE wave came along out of nowhere.

Jane said it was like the wave was a giant hand...and it reached out and grabbed me.

One minute I was there and the next I was not.

I disappeared in the water.

Jane was frantic and looking in the water for me.

But then Jane said she could see my hand sticking out...

So she grabbed my hand...and pulled me out of the wave and the water and to safety.

And so you see that is what she does for me...

I reach out my hand when I am drowning...and Jane takes it and pulls me to safety.

Happy Birthday Jane...I love you and I thank you for being the most influential person in my life.

Inspiration Song: "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys.  One of the most beautiful songs ever written.  Natalie Maines sings a pretty good version too.  Because God only knows what I would be without my Aunt Jane...

Bye Darlings...I hope you are all blessed to have an Aunt Jane in your life...I am the luckiest girl in the world because she is in mine...

Island in the Sun

OK, I have to do a better job of blogging...but I had to get The Cutest Boy in the World off to camp and I have been helping GOTT and TTG with drama camp.  So I have been busy.  You all seemed to really love my silly story about my Daddy, Paris, and the bidet so I think instead of whining about my weight and the fact that Dimples ABANDONED me (no, he did not really...but he did move...for the best reason ever because his super gorgeous fiancee got a fabulous job out of state) I will tell you some more silly stories from my childhood.


This story is about one of my favorite places in the world---Hawaii.  And it is also the best story I have that demonstrates how you can learn a lot on vacation (but not about bidets)...and how you can learn a lot from other people.  And yes, like "Le JR" and the bidet fountain, every crazy word is true...

My mom took my 2 sisters and my brother and me to Hawaii when I was 15.  I had been before but it was the first time we went with just my mom.  We flew to Oahu first and then moved on to other islands.

While in Oahu we stayed at my favorite hotel in the world---the Kahala Hilton (which is no longer a Hilton but is still the Kahala).  I love love love the Kahala.  I"m pretty fond of the Hilton Hawaiian Village too and the Royal Hawaiian but the Kahala is...special...

My mother was a jogger at the time so the morning after we arrived she went out for a jog.  While jogging along a man pulled up next to her in a convertible and asked her to stop.  He was British.  He asked her "excuse me but do you have a piano?".

Yes, he asked her with no preamble if she had a piano.

My mother replied that she was just visiting but that our hotel had a piano.  He thanked her and drove off.

He was Dudley Moore (Arthur).

She came back and got on the elevator with a blonde Scottish man with shaggy hair and a very tall blonde woman and some kids.  They were all arguing.

The man was Rod Stewart.

While waiting for my mother to return from her jog my sister Noel and I ate an entire pineapple by ourselves and our tongues were numb for the rest of the day.  I do not recommend consuming an entire pineapple with just one other person if you plan to eat anything else the rest of the day.

The next morning we went to breakfast in the hotel.

My brother spilled his juice for the 189th time.

My mother informed my brother he was not getting another glass of juice.  He started to pout a bit.

A few minutes later another glass of juice appeared in front of my brother.  My mother told the waitress to take it back because she did not order it.  The waitress said "I know...he did" and she pointed to a man at the next table.

The man looked at my brother and said "I spill my juice all the time...that glass is on me" and then he knocked over his own juice (on purpose) to make my brother feel better.

The man was Don Knotts (Andy Griffith Show).

After that we went into the swim suit shop in the hotel and ran into the dad from "Happy Days".

So the lesson learned?

NOT that you see a lot of celebrities at certain hotels in Hawaii but rather you just never know who might notice you spilled your juice...or will need a piano.

We moved on to the Big Island (Hawaii).

I love the island of Hawaii...it is such a contrast...lovely cliffs and beaches and then all that lava at the south.  I love the airport there because you feel like you are landing on a lava field.   And it's all open air...

While there my mother invited an old friend who lived on the island to come and visit us.  Her name was Mona and she was about 92 years old at that time.  She adored my father---he had been visiting her in Hawaii since he was a child.  She raised the same kind of cattle that we did and she had a beautiful ranch on the island.

My siblings and I were very annoyed at having to spend lunch with an ancient old woman...especially because we had to get dressed and eat in the hotel formal dining room instead of laying about on the beach.  But we got dressed and dutifully waited for Mona in the hotel lobby.

In she walked...with her special fabulous cane...and I realized that this was NO ancient old lady.  She was special.

We went to the dining room and as we walked Mona told me that each morning she enjoyed having her driver take her out for a drive to look at her cattle.  She liked to take a thermos with her...and she winked at me as she said "and sometimes I add an eye opener to it".

At the time I had no idea what she was talking about.

Years later I realized she meant she dropped a bit of whiskey in it...more power to her...she was 90...she could do what she wanted.

So we get to the dining room and a waiter whizzes by with a dessert cart laden with all kinds of incredible looking temptations.

Mona waved her hand and flagged him down.

And then she proceeded to order 2 of everything on the cart!

We hadn't even ordered lunch yet.

She then informed us all that "at my age you eat dessert first because you don't know if you will make it through the main course!'.

Now that was some spectacular advice.

We only ate dessert that day...and it was one of the best meals of my life.

Mona warned us that there had been a small earthquake in the ocean overnight and that the undertow would be quite strong and to be careful when we went into the water.

We thought she said "underTOAD" and spent the rest of the day saying "beware of the undertoad".

To this day it is still the undertoad to me...

After our lunch with Mona, who sadly I never got to see again but dearly hope when and if I get to heaven that she is there waiting for me...with dessert...and an eye opener...

Lesson learned...well there are 2:
1) old people can really be a lot of fun
2) eat dessert first

Noel and I decided that our hair needed conditioning and that we really wanted to look like Malibu Barbie...so we greased our bodies with baby oil and then stupidly put it into our hair to condition it while we were on the beach.

So fully greased up we hit the beach...and the undertoad.

We decided to go body surfing...despite Mona's warning.

The undertoad was strong...and we kept getting pulled under and eating sand.  There were a few times I panicked that I might not surface again.  It brought back flashbacks to the time I got pulled into a wave and my Aunt Jane (the best person in the world) had to grab my hand and pull me out.

Noel and I were scraped by the sand and covered in it.

Baby oil gets sticky.

But the worst part was our hair....the sand and salt was good and stuck in our hair with all of that baby oil.

My mother was not happy.

We ended up pretty much using an entire bottle of Flex Balsam and Protein shampoo trying to get the sand and the oil out of our hair.  It didn't come out completely.  I spent the rest of my vacation with greasy hair.

I do not recommend baby oil as hair conditioner...another lesson learned.  Olive oil works much better and comes out without having to use an entire bottle of Flex Balsam and Protein shampoo.

I'm not sure they even make Flex Balsam and Protein shampoo any more...and what the heck is balsam anyway?  (I know it is some sort of tree sap stuff but what does it do?)

After a fun visit to Maui and then back again to Oahu we headed back home with a stop in San Francisco.

There was a hotel worker strike going on in San Francisco...we barely got a room.  There was no maid service and we were lucky to get towels....but it was still fun.

My greatest memory of that part of the trip was that we managed to lose my brother while we were shopping in Chinatown...how you lose a 10 year old blonde and blue eyed boy with a bowl haircut in Chinatown is beyond me but we spent a frantic hour searching for him.

It escapes me where we found him...and for years I cursed that we didn't just leave him there. (Yes, I love my brother and NOW I am happy we found him but there were a lot of moments when I would have been happy knowing he was working in a Dim Sum restaurant).

Now I know that this story doesn't top a bidet fountain, but hey...that is my BEST travel story...but I hope you learned some things and were amused.

Inspiration Song: my favorite summer song of all time---Island in the Sun by Weezer!  I love it...makes me happy whenever I hear it...

Aloha Darlings...eat dessert first, have fun with old people, don't put baby oil in your hair and beware of the undertoad...and don't lose your children in Chinatown...

La Femme Parallel

My dear old friend LovelyLinda told me the other day that she really enjoyed reading the blogs about my youth and the times with my dad.  Her husband worked for my dad and most of Daddy's employees were not employees...they were family.  So she's like family.  And how can I turn down the request of the woman who HAND MADE me a quilt as a wedding gift?  The quilt lasted longer than the marriage...and it is a treasure to me to this day...someday I will put grandbabies to sleep on it...


So LovelyLinda...and SuperSharon (who was my Daddy's overqualified assistant who was more mother to me than anyone at a crucial time in my life...she helped Daddy but more importantly to me she helped me survive)...this is for  you...

So about 1980 we were sitting around the double-wide trailer we were living in (the house was not completed so we lived in a double wide trailer...complete with a Charles Russell painting hanging on the wall and some pricey antiques...that was my Daddy's style) when Daddy asked what we wanted to do for Spring Break.

Being me, I answered (fully knowing it wouldn't happen but wanting to sound smart): "I want to go to London and Paris".

I was 15.

My stepmonster agreed...wow that was a shock.

So Daddy said...yes.

yes?

YES!

We were going to go to London and Paris.

I immediately began to read up on both cities and somehow located a book in the library that taught me how to read a French menu...that was how I tricked Daddy into eating eggplant. (See Blog called "Red Red Wine").

So SuperSharon was given the task of planning our trip.  She should have been a travel agent...it was the perfect trip.

We left from New York.

On the Concorde.

Now lest you think I am just bragging here or cavalier about it all...trust me, I know how very very privileged I was to lead the life I did.  It was amazing...and it was all by accident of my birth.

I do not lead that life now.

Nor do I need to.

So we go to the lounge for the Concorde at JFK and as we are waiting the most beautiful woman I have ever seen (next to my Mommy of course) comes in wearing dark sunglasses and a gorgeous mink coat.  She had beautiful blonde hair and carried herself like a queen.  She was with a French man who was older than she was.

My dad says: "Now THERE is a chickipoo!" (that was his word for a gorgeous woman---chickipoo).

She was stunning...I couldn't stop staring.  She had eyes for no one but the French man.

He was Louis Malle.

She was Candace Bergman.

God, but she truly was gorgeous.  And to this day the memory of her in that coat sitting in that lounge is the most glamorous vision I have ever had.

I live and breathe to one day look that amazing...

She was at the height of her beauty.  You could tell she was a movie star.  She wasn't snotty...just so very very gorgeous and elegant.

So we get on the plane...and heavens that thing was like riding in a needle...and we take off and the crew proceeds to feed us a lot of amazing French food...even caviar...but I passed that forward to my Daddy cause I don't much care for caviar...or at least I didn't then...

We landed in Paris and it was daytime...no jet lag on the Concorde.  Pretty amazing.

We went to the Plaza Athenee...quite a hotel.  It's the one where Carrie runs away from Baryshnikov and goes to Big in Sex and the City.  She was wearing a spectacular couture gown...there was no couture on me in Paris that time...or ever...

I guess it was the next day that my stepmonster decided we should go shopping.  I wanted to go to the Louvre.  But I wanted to shop too...so I didn't complain much.

We ended up in some store where my stepmother (ok, I'll stop calling her stepmonster) wanted something "but in blue...not red like this".

My Daddy could not speak a word of French.

And everywhere we went they would point at him and say "Le JR?" (from Dallas...cause he looked a tiny bit like Larry Hagman but really it was the hat and cowboy boots...I mean, who wears cowboy boots and a cowboy hat in Paris).

No, he was NOT "Le JR"...thank goodness.

And yes, that went on for the entire trip...even in London but there it was "is that JR?"

So Daddy tries to ask the saleswoman about whatever it was that my stepmother wanted and there is a communication barrier.

Until Daddy asked her if she spoke Spanish.

There...that fixed it...communication at last.

I was fuming because it meant that once again my father was right...I should have learned to speak Spanish at least to be able to converse in it.

Next thing he knows, Daddy has a line of Americans asking him to translate.

Later that night we were tired and Daddy told me, Noel, and Sarita to shower up before dinner so we could have an early one at the hotel and go to bed early.  That was the night of my Daddy accidentally eating eggplant and liking it.

So before we headed to the hotel dining room, Sarita was first up to bat for the bathroom.

When we checked in she pointed to the bidet in our bathroom and said "why is that here?".

She was about 12.

To be mean and awful, I told her that it was "for washing your feet.  The French are dirty people and sometimes they don't bathe...they just wash their feet...so its for washing feet".

Noel didn't correct me.

I'm not sure she knew what it was for herself.  I did...and a year later there would be a bidet in my bathroom and the guest bathroom and my stepmonster's bathroom (there was also one in the house my mother lived in in Houston).  My stepmother thought they were "classy" and informed me my bedroom was to become a guest bedroom the minute I graduated from high school.

Funny thing...it was never a guest room..just my brother's room...he liked it cause it had outside doors he could sneak out of.  Don't know what he ever did with the bidet...don't want to know either...

So Sarita heads to the bathroom and I hear water running...a strange sound that did NOT sound like a shower.

Then there was screaming...

a lot of screaming.

I ran into the bathroom...there was water everywhere and that bidet was jetting up like a fountain.

She couldn't get it to turn off.

Seems she had decided to take a "French bath" and was just going to wash her face and...feet.  You know how 12 year olds are...they don't always want to bathe.

So there was an inch of water all over the marble floor of the bathroom, water spraying everywhere and my sister screaming non stop.

Noel and I just stood there laughing and trying not to slip.

Daddy came running into the bathroom when he heard the screaming.

HE SLIPPED

Yup...he slipped and fell down onto the floor and proceed to slide as if he was on a "slip-n-slide" across the bathroom floor until he crashed into the bathtub.

Lots of four letter words were said.

Lots of laughing from us..and my stepmother.

After a few "what the hell where you thinking?"s he managed to get the water to turn off.

As we stood in the watery mess of a bathroom (no dry towels...no dry toilet paper...no dry anything), he asked "why did you turn on the bidet?".

Sarita explained that she was trying to wash her feet.

He asked "why in the bidet?"

And she said "Anice said it was for washing feet.  Isn't it for washing feet?".

At that point I had a near-death experience and pretty much knew that I had little to no chance of scoring any fun French fashion the next day for my little lie...

He looks at me and says "is that what you told her it was for?"

I slowly nodded yes...and I have to admit I was still laughing...so I had to nod...

Sarita says "well?  isn't it for washing feet?"

At that point my father looks from her to me to her to the bidet to the floor to her to me...etc...it was like a movie...

And then he slowly said...

"yes, it is for washing feet"

Guess he didn't want to explain what a bidet was for to a 12 year old girl....

He left the bathroom...and informed me to "use your best French since you can't speak Spanish and barely can speak English and get the maid up here to help you clean up!"

I called down and asked for towels...a lot of them...and explained what happened.  Thank goodness the woman in housekeeping spoke English.  But I don't think she prepared the maid who came up for what had happened.

The maid walks in and cheerliy says "Bonsoir" as happily as a little bird...a little bird carrying towels.

She took one look at the bathroom and the little bird disappeared and she was not very happy.

Her "Bonsoir" as she left was not very happy either.

We did try to help her clean it up...it took a lot of towels....

We did all shower (even Sarita...although the fountain from the bidet could have qualified but ick!) and had a nice dinner.

My Daddy forgave us and actually laughed about it...and for years to come.

And THAT, my friends is my BEST French story...

Years later I would go with my mom to France...I did not turn on the bidet...all the bathrooms during our trip were safe.

I have some great shopping stories from that day but that is for another blog and another day...

Inspiration Song; "La Femme Parallel" by Thievery Corporation.  J'taime Jamie (who is from Louisiana but is not French) plays it for us at the end of Body Pump...beautiful song...nice to stretch to...and it is about the only French song I have on my iPod.

Adieu Darlings...bidets are for feet washing...and making a bathroom into a fountain...my poor Daddy...what he did to deserve us is beyond me...

Burning Down the House

I just sat outside and watched my son make a paper boat and then set it on fire in the pool.

He was highly amused.

He used aerosol glue to make it flame up even more.

What is it with boys and fire?

He likes to try and set things on fire all the time...once he put glue in a shovel and set it on fire (yes, I was outside holding a hose and witnessing it).

He likes to light things up and burn them.

I often am afraid that my house is going to burn down as a result of all this "fun with fire".

Like I said...what is it with boys and fire?

There are soooooo many things about the male species that confound me.

It would be so much easier if I was a lesbian...I "get" women (but NOT teenage girls).

But alas, I like men...just men...as far as a partner in life goes.  I like men...

But I don't "get" them...and the strange things they do and like...

Like...take the show "Jackass" for example.  Men like that show. I will admit to being amused more than once or twice by it.  But only the "stupid" things they do...not the "gross" things they do (like eating "yellow snow" or...no, I just can't go there...yellow snow is gross enough).

Once I saw the Jackass guys fill a hotel hallway with beach balls and they tried to "surf" on the beach balls...body surf...

Now THAT was funny...and I watched it with a male friend and we laughed so hard we were wiping tears from our eyes and we were tempted right then and there to go to Walmart and buy every beach ball we could get and throw them in a hall just to try it.  Of course some idiot on the show managed to bang his head into the corner of part of the hallway and knocked himself silly...and that ALMOST stopped us from grabbing the keys and heading to Walmart.  What DID finally keep us from that fateful Walmart trip was that we just didn't have a proper hallway to do it in...and maybe a lick of sense hit us.

But boy it was funny...and it DID look fun.

I discussed this with KuteKaren the other night...she saw the same thing...and agreed it did look like an awesome thing to do...and thankfully she and I did not head to Walmart for the beach balls.

But next time I go to Palm Beach with her we just might...the Hampton Inn had a great hallway for it.

But I digress...

Men like shows like "Jackass"...and although I do not think that much of it is THAT funny I will admit to finding some of it funny...just not like most men and teenage boys do.

Men also like video games.

Call of Duty

NBA something or other...

Madden football...

Assassin's Creed

How do I know the names of these games...because I have a teenage boy who practically LIVES on Xbox when he is not at school or playing sports.

I think I once mentioned that my ex spent an entire Sunday playing "Tetris" on the Nintendo.

My son tried to teach me to play a few games on the Xbox.

I was, as he put it, a total failure at it.  A total and complete and utter failure at it.  He tried several games and each time I got confused as to what button to push or when to push it.  He finally switched the game off and found us a video to watch.

The other day he tried to teach me how to throw and catch a lacrosse ball with a lacrosse stick.  I did manage to throw the ball and he would catch it.  But 9 times out of 10 I would miss when he would hurl it at me.  I was thinking I was pretty good at "throwing" it but I think all it really was is that my son is pretty darn good at catching that ball in the net of his stick.

For safety he was teaching me while we were in the pool.  I was afraid there was one of those funny video shows filming us because a mom learning to catch a lax ball while wearing a bikini in a pool would make for a pretty good funny video...especially if that mom was me.

I had a lacrosse coach once try to teach me how to throw the ball (with the stick) into a net.  After a few attempts he gently took the stick from my hand and informed me that I was a very pretty woman who obviously had many skills...and I smelled really good...but that he was afraid if I kept trying I was going to hurt one or both of us...and I think he valued all of his body parts...and once or twice that ball shot out and almost maimed some body parts I am pretty sure that man was very fond of.

I was wearing a skirt and heels at the time...so I asked him another time to show me how to do it (when I was dressed in shorts and had sneakers on so I could move easily) and one of the other coaches warned him not to...that coach knew me pretty well and knew that yes, I had skills and that throwing a lax ball into a net was not one of them.

But men will stand and do silly things like continually throwing a ball into a lax net.  My son did it today...against the side of my house.  He managed to hit me in the head a few times with the ball...but he kept at it despite my reminding him that he was going to be doing it from 6:00-8:30 tonight at his lacrosse camp.

Men will shoot baskets endlessly...throw footballs endlessly...putt golf palls endlessly...etc.

And they are amused by it.

But they won't pick their underwear up off the floor.

They will sit in a deer blind in the freezing cold and still not get a deer and yet say they had fun.

They will sit in a freezing stadium and watch their team lose and still say they had fun.

But ask them to go outside and put up Xmas lights when it is 40 degrees out and they will tell you it is too cold.

I know this is another "whining about men" blog...but today as I watched my son light a paper boat on fire I just thought....

"Why are guys so weird?"

I'm living with one...and he is the cutest and best thing in the world...and he totally confuses me about 90% of the time.

How the hell do I expect to live with a grown-up one?

I failed at it once...

Maybe I just need a questionnaire that says "do you light things on fire?  Do you think farts are funny? Does the show Jackass amuse you?"

and if he says yes to any of the above I might just have to make a run for it...but then again I live with one who would say "yes" to all of the above and I love him more than anything in this world.

Sigh...

Just one more thing I will have to deal with if a really good looking man who drives a big-ass truck ever comes my way...

He probably will like to set things on fire...

But maybe, just maybe, he will go to Walmart and get a bunch of beach balls we can body surf on in a hallway...

after all, he would have room in that truck bed for all those balls...

Inspiration Song: "Burning Down the House" by the Talking Heads...there are other versions of the song but in my opinion this is the only one that counts...

Bye Darlings...do NOT let your teenage son burn down the house by trying to recreate the scene from "St. Elmo's Fire" where Rob Lowe sets hairspray on fire for Demi Moore...mine wants to so very badly...not burn down the house...just light the hairspray on fire...