Manic Monday - Bird

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This Songbird is pulling the cover over the birdcage for a while and taking some time away from blogging and reading. I'll be back in a little bit, after I take care of some things. Thanks for the wonderful comments on my Party follow-up post.

Enjoy your families, hug a loved one, and see you after a spell.

Later daze...

Comment Catch Up - The Party

After I wrote this post, a few of you voiced some questions that I thought you might want answered, so without delay now, here are your questions and my responses.

Matt-Man said...

Did they serve food? And if so, what kind? Cheers!!

Tuesday, March 24, 2009 2:38:00 AM

Me: Well, Matty, knowing you as I do, I'll remind you that no food at all was served (which, as you read the post, you knew already), but since you're being your usually self, I'll answer with "fried ass cheek with BACON and fried goat gonads wrapped in BACON."

katherine. said...

with the wisdom you gained from that experience...the way you met...the seven months...the three years...and with all the years to figure it out (cause hindsight is frequently 20/20)...

What advice are you gonna give to the Bonnie Lass as she launches out into the world and taking her own risks?

Tuesday, March 24, 2009 10:06:00 AM

Me: Leave it to you, Katherine, to ask me the tough ones. Bonnie Lass and I have already had some pretty intense conversations, despite her tender years. Unlike my own mother, I allow my daughter to ask me any question, and I answer them truthfully, usually with a life lesson attached.

I'll let her know that often times we make spur of the moment decisions based on a fleeting emotion and personal need. I'll tell her that getting swept up in the moment does not necessarily translate into a lifetime of commitment between two people, and often times when we're inexperienced with life, we allow strong emotions to carry us to places where our logic would normally not venture. I'll remind her that even well-intended family members can get caught up on those moments and push us to do something we probably wouldn't normally do (or do if we gave the idea more serious consideration), and maybe we should trust our own instincts more than we do.

I think, most importantly, I'll tell her that even when she's up nights crying and thinking that she's a total failure, that I'll always love her, support her right to make her own decisions, and be ready to catch her when she falls.

Pamela said...

I was worried about the heartache, infidelity, and suicide attempts.

I think it is me being curious or maybe more likely... nosy

Wednesday, March 25, 2009 10:32:00 PM

Me: No problem, Pamela. I understand being curious...or nosy. *grin*

Let me say this: the infidelity? Not mine. The suicide attempts? Not mine. The heartache? All mine.

My ex-husband is a good man, and believe it or not, we still have contact. A good man now, however, who had severe emotional problems when he was twenty years old. The son of an alcoholic who suffered greatly from depression, my ex exhibited some of the same depressive symptoms early in our marriage. Had I been paying more attention, I would have caught the signs sooner, but I was still starry-eyed by his charm and wit.

It took only months for me to see how much he needed help; sadly, by then he was in the United States Marines Corps locked in a six-year contract, and he desperately wanted out. Since that was not going to be released, he did the only thing he felt he could do. One night while home on weekend liberty, he held a shotgun to his mouth and threatened to shot himself. I calmly (while shaking uncontrollably inside), took the gun from him and got him checked into an outpatient psychiatric program. The problem with this scenario was that at the time, we were stationed at Naval Submarine Base Bangor (WA), and he wanted to go home to Indiana, so in the dead of night with only $50 in cash and a Shell gas credit card, we drove the 50 hours straight through to Indianapolis.

He then was placed on "UA" status with the Corps (Unauthorized Absence) since I had my sister (a paralegal) contact the base where my ex was stationed. They were aware of his location at all times, but they never came to "retrieve him." After my ex completed his therapy, we drove back to Washington so that he could turn himself in and be "Other Than Honorably Discharged."

While waiting for his discharge orders in Camp Pendleton, CA, he made another suicide attempt by slashing his wrists with a razor. I was at our apartment in Washington without a phone or a car which had been reposessed upon our return to Washington. The news of this later attempt came to me from my sister with whom I checked in at the corner pay phone on a nightly basis.

Zipping along in the story, we eventually moved back to Indiana and began the process of putting our lives back on track. While living with my then widowed father, with both of us working three jobs each to pay off our now-in-default bills, he began having an affair with an old girlfriend. One day while I was at work, and while my father watched him, my ex moved out of my father's home and into another apartment, leading my father to believe that hubby had found a new place for both of us.

After the ex brought me home from work, he dropped me at my father's door, and informed me that he had moved out and that he wanted a divorce. A week later, I found my father on his bed after having a bleeding attack of some sort. My sister (who lived upstairs) and I rushed our father to the hospital where he died a week later on Christmas Day, while holding my hand.

Are those enough details for you, Pamela? *grin*

Consider this: during the months between March 1985 and December 1986, I got married at my dying mother's bedside, had a mother die on me, had a husband attempt suicide twice, had a husband cheat on me and walk out on me, and had my father die on me. And yet, in spite of that, I pesevered and grew and became a stronger person. Without these things happening in my life, I don't think I would be the wife and mother I am today. Would I want to relive those days? Hell no! But I can't regret them either. Life is about decision making, living with those decisions, and making changes (or NOT making changes) based on the outcomes of decisions.

I'll continue to make decisions, both good and bad, the rest of my life. The important thing is how I move on from the less than great decisions.

Have a great weekend, all. Later daze...

First Love

I guess it's true. You never forget nor do you ever really let go of your first true love.

I met him when I was just 18 and a freshman in college. He was 17 and attending the same junior college. The first thing I noticed about him at work was his gorgeous brown hair. When he approached me to talk to him, I became entranced by his freckles and blue eyes.

His name was Niall. A good strong Irish name, but pronounced phonetically as in "Nye-all" not the Irish way of "Neal."

His mother was divorced from his father, and she had returned to using her maiden name: Shanahan. I was hooked.

Thus began my passion and soulful connection to Ireland and the Celtic spirit.

We used to spend hours and hours in his room after classes and before work, lying in bed talking, listening to music, and...the usual other stuff. *grin* We listened to an alternative rock station that I'm sure no longer exists - Z97.

One lazy warm October afternoon in 1980, this song came on the radio, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. This, this was what solidified the forever existence of my first love and the everlasting love I found in the music of this group. (Note: the version I heard was NOT this one; the version I heard was a bootleg version recorded at a club and smuggled into this country by a friend of the radio deejay.)

I had no idea that my love affair with this band would continue through to now and, most likely, forever more. I couldn't conceive that this song would move me so much that I was compelled to move to the desert:

...or that this song would make me want to drive very fast with the windows down and the car stereo turned up so loudly I can't think:

I'm not like Starrlight; I can't analyze songs. I can't decipher lyrics, and I rarely know the whys and wherefores about the writing of the song. I'm a Philistine when it comes to listening to music. My reaction to music is visceral. I just know when music makes me weep, makes me laugh, makes me dance and twirl. When music permeates my soul and drives me to distraction or melancholy or joy or dreaming, then, then it becomes my love. A long-lasting, forever in my heart and essence love.

The experience is truly magnificent.

Party Follow Up

Remember this post from last Monday? Well, seems it generated some questions from people, but no one voiced a specific question; they merely stated that they were curious and wanted to know more.

So, I pose a question to you - do you have a question for me about that post? What specifically do you want to know? I'm not hiding anything; I just tend to write in slices because that's my style. If you really want to know details, leave me a comment, and I'll follow up with answers in a separate post.

Sound like a plan? Okay, ask away! I'll respond with a follow up post on Friday.

Manic Monday - Wet

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Anywhere from 300-330 days a year, down here in the lower elevations of my state it looks like this:

It's what brings lots of snowbirds and tourists around here in the cooler months. Of course, during those cooler winter months, if we're lucky, we get this:

...lovely cool, rainy, wet days. These kind of wet days bring this to the mountains of my state:


Unfortunately, the problem with lots of wet winter days is that in the spring everything blooms, and then you have this:


..which means in the hot dry summers, you get this:

It might be a long fire season this summer. *sigh*

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The Photo Meme

Lifted without guilt from Sandee's blog, the idea is to search for images that answer the questions and then post them with the questions on your site.

Age at next birthday



Place to which I would like to travel



Favorite Food


Favorite Place


Nickname


Favorite Color



College Major



Name of my Love


Hobby


Bad Habit

If you play along, let me know, and I'll come visit.

Manic Monday - Party

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I had no idea that particular night would greatly alter my life plans.

I mean, when one is 22, single, homeless, and a struggling college student trying to scrape up enough money to find an apartment and pay the bills, who really thinks that attending a party on a Saturday night is going to make a huge impact on one's life?

But there it was. I got off of work around 10:00 p.m., and my colleagues were all tired. No one wanted to go to our usual club to party. They all went home. And I was left on my own to try and find a place to hunker down for the night.

The Dork saw my dilemma and pounced. He'd been trying to get me to go out with him for weeks. I flat out refused. I mean, who wants to go out with a guy who had no regard for personal hygiene and smelled like his pet ferret?

But The Dork pounced. He invited me to attend a party at the home of a friend, and since I was bored and had nowhere else to go, I had a moment of weakness.

I caved.

I drove myself. The party was easy to find; it happened to be at the apartment right across the hall from the one I had vacated two months earlier. I walked in not knowing what I'd find, but I figured I'd take a chance.

I should have turned and run away.

There was no music, no laughter, no FUN.

There were only several guys, out of high school anywhere from a few months to a year, sitting around drinking illegally obtained beer and shooting the shit.

I nearly walked out, when out of the back bedroom He came.

My heart stopped. Just for a moment.

Then it raced.

I could hear the blood pounding in my ears.

He smiled at me, recognition lighting his eyes. He remembered me from across the hall; we had met briefly as I was moving out and he was moving in. It was right before I dumped my last loser boyfriend.

That night changed my life. That night, 25 years ago, I was swept off of my feet and into a maelstrom.

It took only seven months for us to get married, but three years to divorce. The intervening years were filled with heartache, infidelity, and suicide attempts.

I should have run. But I didn't.

And I am a better person today for having taken the risk.

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Is There Anybody Out There?

My sister complained that I seem to be posting very little lately. Yeah, well, you know. Anyway, most people don't come around on Fridays, so we'll see how many of you take a gander.

Not much to tell really. Well, there is, but you all don't really want to hear about what's been pulling me away from blogging and my life for the past few weeks, do you? I don't like to sound like a whiney bitch, you know. Aw, what the hell...

Long story short: my doctors, and, hence, me, believed that my condition was progressing. Since Pulmonary Hypertension is, in fact, a progressive condition, that's not unexpected. Anyway, after having yet another heart catherization (right side only), it was discovered that my cardiac pulmonary pressures had indeed increased.......but only slightly. So, after a massive regimen of medicinal diuretics and tons of strong lemon water (a natural diuretic), I pissed my guts out, shed five pounds of fluid, and I'm feeling better. Recovery from the actual cath went a bit slower, however. Seems we aggravated a nerve right next to the vein where the catheter was inserted, and I was in severe, agonizing pain for several days. The prescription pain killers made me vomit, so I had to ride out the agony with regular Tylenol. After about a week of that crap, I'm without the pain for the most part, and I can straighten my leg. Long days on my feet are not good, however, so I usually go to bed around 4:00 p.m. after picking up the kids and stay there the rest of the evening.

I haven't been volunteering at school for a while, and my daughter has been making dinner for the family for the most part. Still not singing at church either, and to be honest, I haven't missed it that much. I guess I was in need of a break.

Yeah, it is what it is. Just because I accept my condition doesn't mean I have to like it. That's my life, though, so sometimes it gets ugly.

Now that I'm rebounding, though, things are starting to look up. My in-laws (whom I adore, which, if you've been around here for any time, you already knew) are coming for a three week visit at the end of the month. They'll spend a few days with us before moving over to their time share condo for a couple of weeks, and then back here for the Easter weekend before heading back to Ohio. Mom and I will probably take in a movie, try shopping a bit, and generally sit around and gossip. She and I are great pals, and I love spending time with her. Just what my beaten up psyche needs about now.

The kids are finishing the third grading quarter and preparing for the state standards test at the end of the month. So far, all but one grade is stellar for both kids, so I'm pretty pleased.

We are getting some pretty warm temps around here, which my in-laws are eagerly anticipating since Ohio has been hit extremely hard this winter. Me, I'd rather we have temps in the 50s or 60s for a while longer, but we get what we get. Major League Baseball spring training is in full swing (ha! pardon the pun!), and Dad is hoping to get a look-see at the Wahoos in their new training stadium. Gonna have to tell him to keep his hat on and wear lots of sunblock.

Still mulling over the new U2 CD; for a full review of it, go visit Starrlight at Here Comes a Storm in the Form of a Girl. She is a music fan extraordinaire, and her take on the album is a definite "need to read." Still working on composing a general post about my U2 fandom; don't know when that will take flight, but it's in my head.

College hoops has begun its March Madness with conference tournament play. My Butler Bulldogs lost their tournament in the closing seconds to my hubby's Cleveland State Vikings. The Vikes will get the automatic bid to the Big Dance, but my Dawgs will likely get a bid due to their national ranking and other such numbers nonsense. Don't know how far they'll dance given that their starting line up is three freshmen, a sophomore, and a junior, but I wouldn't count them out. Go Dawgs!

It's back to bed rest for me, so have a great weekend, and

Later daze.....

Manic Monday - Full

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My son, like so many boys his age, is full of fun facts, fart sounds, and far-fetched ideas. On any given day, he can reduce me to giggles and snorts at least a dozen times. The other day, the following exchange took place:

Little Man: Mama, what would you get if you crossed a Chihuahua and a Chow Chow?

Me: (shaking my head in bewilderment, pondering which dog would be on top during mating) I don't know, son, what WOULD you get?

Little Man: (snorting and giggling) A Chi-Chow-Chow!

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I Live, Therefore, I Speak

It's been a looooooooooong and frustrating week and a half. I seem, however, to have turned a corner this past Thursday, so I arise from the bed and the near-dead to post again. Long may I wave.

I refuse to saddle you with the laundry list of ailments that afflicted me these past 11 days, but rather I hope to regale you with the mundanity and the imbicility of events that surrounded my ailing without regard to my mental capacity for coping.

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First of all, as of February 23rd my precious older child, my firstborn angel and star student, my only daughter has now crossed into the ranks of of the cloven hoofed. That's right, my friends, Bonnie Lass has officially become...*gulp*...a teenager. *insert deep, deep, mournful, West-of-Ireland sigh*

Now I present, to commemorate the event, a pictorial spread to document the evidence that she has been, until now, my compliant, my obedient, my dutiful sire and watchful older sister. Wonder how much longer this will last? You will note that I have not included baby photos of her; that's because in 1996, we were still using that most ancient of equipment known as "film cameras," and I have not yet scanned those photos into the laptop for all the world to see.

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Somewhere along the line, I managed to win another online contest. This one was hosted by that proud dad of child #4 born just three days ago, Daddy Forever. The Vulcan King was giving away $70 coupons to ProFlowers.com, and I won! I used the voucher to cash in and get myself some resplendent irises and some indulgent Rocky Mountain Chocolate toffees. (I'm a sucker for toffee.)

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So, since I was bed-ridden for the past week, I made alternative arrangements for my kids to get to and from school for the most part. Usually, when we come home in the afternoons, we stop by the cluster mailboxes at the end of the street and retrieve our mail, but since I wasn't the one driving them home for several days, the mail sat in the box all week. Sooooo, imagine my surprise and incredulity when I pulled up to the boxes yesterday afternoon and saw that the old clusterboxes had been replaced. *blink, blink, blink* Duh...whaaaaaaaaa? After both kids had taken the old mailbox key and tried to insert them into each and every new box in every direction possible, I had to acknowledge that the key would NOT work, and new keys were probably sitting inside the new box along with a week's worth of mail, along with the notice informing me that we would be, in fact, getting new cluster mailboxes. (And you wonder from where where the term clusterfuck was derived, huh? Now you know.)

I gathered my strength, drove the mile over to the post office, and stood in the line to lodge my complaint. The clerk says to me, "Well, they usually put a notice in your box a fews days prior to let you know that new boxes are coming, and they'll leave you the new keys along with the notice." After explaining to her that I have, in fact, been laid up in bed for four days, she replied, "Oh. Well, I guess I'll see if the carrier has left your mail to be picked up here along with your new keys." No such luck.

Anyway, to sum up an already ridiculous story, when I returned home from the post office, I found my new mailbox keys...sitting out in the open on top of my front door mat in an envelope marked with my house number and my new box number. Yeah. That's one bright mail carrier. As Vinny would say, Heck-a-Doodle.

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Had to wait until pay day, today, in order to order my own copy of the new U2 CD, No Line on the Horizon. Should arrive Tuesday from Amazon. I won't bother to attempt a review of said album; go over and read Starrlight's multi-part review HERE. Next week, I hope to have posted my own thoughts on their music in general and what they mean to me in my life.

That is, barring any unforeseen meteor crash, stroke of illness, or lack of ability to commit thoughts to paper...

Until then, later daze....

Manic Monday - Waffle

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I didn't waffle in my decision on whether or not to post today; I'm taking more time off from blogging and reading blogs. I'm having difficulty recovering from a surgical procedure I underwent last week, and I need to get as much bed rest as possible for the next several days.

I'll see you when I see you, y'all.

Later daze....

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