HAPPY

Several years back, Barbara Ann Kipfer wrote a book, called 14,000 things to be happy about. Basically, it was just a list of different things that are good in the world. For a while, it was like a bible to me. I would carry it around with me, and any time I felt like the world was a crappy place to be, I would open the book up, and read a few items, didn’t matter what page, didn’t matter what item – within a few lines, I was bound to hit upon something that would make me happy – or at least illicit a happy memory that would make me smile, and feel better about the world.


I have been feeling kind of crappy these past few days, so I thought that I would try again – see if the little book would again bring a smile to my face. Sure enough, it did. I decided to make my own list, things that when I think about them, make me feel happy. Kind of an update for the New Year – a 2010 14 things to be happy about - consider it the abbridged version :

1) Today, after 14 days of being buried under rubble – workers pulled a survivor out from underneath a building in Haiti

2) Bubble wrap turned 50 this week

3) “The Simpsons” still going strong!

4) A full tank of both oil and gas and a little money left in the bank

5) Mel Brooks’ Blazing Saddles, High Anxiety and Young Frankenstein

6) Getting an e-mail from an old friend

7) Fart machines

8) Gift Cards

9) Planning a party

10) Being pleasantly surprised by people’s actions

11) Finally realizing you are over someone

12) Getting to work 5 minutes early

13) Completed Book Reports

14) “Your order has shipped”

Well, I feel better now… … I hope a few of these things you can relate to.. and you’re smiling.

Have a great day! And remember – being happy pisses off miserable people!!!

MEN

I hate men. They’re different from us. They don’t think like us. And they smell, sometimes good, usually bad – especially their feet.

Being of the single persuasion, for the past few years, I have been ‘out there’, looking for a companion, partner, love of my life – you get the idea. I’ve tried all of the online dating sites.. and every introduction e-mail I have received has gone the same way.. Here are a few examples:



From Italy:

You very pretty. I like to come to your country and lay with you. You make me happy, yes?



From Staten Island, NY

Hey



From California:

Praise Jesus! I have found you! I am searching for a woman to join my family. I believe that woman were placed on the earth, extracted from Adam’s rib, and placed here to take care of men. I am looking for a woman who is ready to take care of her man. I enjoy many wonders of life, and need a woman to clean my house and watch my children as I go out and enjoy the many gifts that God has bestowed upon me.



From Connecticut:

Yea, hello. You look pretty lonely, you would be very lucky to spend a day with me. We would first do a few things that I enjoy – I really don’t care what your needs are – you should just be grateful to spend some time with someone of my caliber. Do you make more money than I do? That’s good, we will use your cash to maintain a lifestyle I am accustomed to, and I will use my money for my personal needs. Remember, Your money is OUR money, and my money is MY money.



It all falls into that area, basically. I don’t understand. Where are all the men who know how to treat a woman with respect? Where are all the men who want someone they can carry on a conversation with – and not just get a hand job and leave? I have tried all of the websites – so it’s not just one. I have written and re-written my profiles, using all of the hints they gave me. I’ve been to church, and most of the single men there are sitting in the corners, chatting with the 85 year old women, then they run out as soon as the service is over. I’ve been to bars – don’t EVEN get me started. I’ve walked around everywhere with a smile on my face, my hair done and making eye contact. I have told all of my friends to introduce me to their single, male friends – and either they have no single, male friends, or they don’t want to be responsible for helping me meet someone, and have it not work out. I’ve gotten on with my life, doing things that I enjoy doing, striving to achieve goals for myself and my girls. One could definitely say that my life is full, just taking care of the girls, and working a full time-demanding job.

But there is something missing. Once the girls are in bed, and the laundry is folded and the dishes are done, there’s me and the couch – and I think that the couch is getting bored with my chatter about my day. There’s going out to dinner, with the girls – and me sitting chatting away with them – but, it’s also like going out alone. We go to the bathroom, and they bus our table. There’s the Christmas decorations outside, which are still up – mid January – because I don’t want my neighbors seeing me take them down by myself.

I am not trying to make this a ‘pity party’ note – I just really don’t understand. How does a single, fairly independent and intelligent person meet another such person? I’m not looking for a quickie – those, while fun for a time, do get old after about the 50th or 60th occurrence (okay, maybe the 5th or 6th – just trying to not sound too pathetic). I’m searching for that person, you know.. when something good happens at work, you want to call them and tell them about it – because you know they will be happy for you. The person who will always remember to call you, text you and send you flowers on your birthday. The person who will always laugh at your jokes, will always make you laugh and who will never make you cry. The person who you can sit on your couch with and watch a movie – who will instinctively grab your feet and start rubbing them, or who will sit so close to you that your body temperature goes up a few degrees. The person who knows how you feel about politics, religion, child rearing and even if they don’t agree, they respect your opinions and will support your decisions – and who will publically support your decision – even if it makes them look a little silly. And the person who is honest with you – and never goes behind your back – and respects you.

I get it I get it! Men are from mars, Women are from Venus.. I’ve read the book, I understand that men are different from women. I know that women are more emotional, and talk about their feelings more. I know that men basically ask themselves a few main questions:

Can I eat it?

Can I sleep on it?

Can I play with it?

Can I eat it?



I understand that women are needy and need that emotional connection, and that most men cannot share their emotions the way a woman can – but there has to be some kind of middle ground. I mean, look at famous couples who have been together for years… how do they connect? How have they been able to stay together for all of these years? How is it that all of these romantic movies have made so much money? Are they all a sham? A gimmick? A ploy to bring in people, mostly women, and men being dragged in by their women? What is the answer? Are all men just cavemen, looking to conquer a beautiful woman with a small waist and rounded hips? Are all men just self-involved idiots, who are entirely focused on their needs, and women are just objects, put on the plane to take care of them and their world, while they sit in judgment of them and all they do? Or are there actually men out there – who want an equal partner – someone to really share their life with them, share hopes, dreams, joys and pains. I hope so. Because I know that I can handle this journey alone – but it would really be great to have a co-pilot.

Memories of McDonald’s – or My first taste of Boy tongue!

From the ages of 16 thru 19, I worked at a local McDonald’s. There were a lot of other kids there my age, and for that time in my life – my social circle consisted of several of these individuals. We would hang out every night – doing various teen age things. We went to the movies – we drank – we hung out in the back of the parking lot – we drank – we hung out in other parking lots – we drank.


Basically, we hung out, wherever we could – and drank. We got chased out of a lot of places, because who wants a bunch of drunken teenagers hanging out, right?


One time that I remember fondly, was the night after Hurricane Gloria. The reason I remember, is because this big old wind decided to come down smack on my 18th birthday. Now, you must know, I was not happy at all about this – as we had big plans for that night – hanging out and drinking.


So, here I was – 18 years old – young and innocent. A true romantic at heart. Looking at the world with a sense of Magic, like things that happened in the movies, really did happen to people. I had yet to be shattered by the harshness of reality.


There were four of us that night, Tom and Nicole – two friends who were like an old, married couple. Think, Raymond’s parents from ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’ – Tom was a bit obnoxious and annoying – but deep down, a pretty nice guy. He talked a lot. So much in fact, that it was nearly impossible to get a word in when you were having a conversation with him. Nicole was great. She gave off the impression of a stereotypical ‘dumb blonde’ – but in certain aspects, she was once of the smartest people I knew. She has theories on people and friends – that at the time I thought were a little odd – but now, after so many years, I realize that she really knew what she was talking about – and she was right! And then there was Brian Z. Brian was a year younger that the three of us – and the thing I remember about Brian Z was that he had these amazing eyelashes. Oh, and he was nice.

So the four of us ventured off, a case of Bud, and 2 4-packs of Calvin Coolers – tropical fruit flavor. They were nauseating to look at, but easy to get down. We drove to a wooded area behind the 7-11 in Coram. It was a decent looking spot. I had never been there before – and never went back after that night. There were logs set up as makeshift benches – and a bonfire pit that was pretty worn and looked like it had been the home of many fires before. So we all sat down, Tom and Brian got a decent fire going, We talked, and we drank. The sun was going down, the fire gave off a nice warmth in the cool September air, and the Calvin coolers were giving me a nice little buzz. The four of us at the time had what seemed like so much in common, working together all day, hanging out together at night – we were all a part of each other’s lives. We understood each other. The evening grew darker. Tom and Nicole snuggled together in their own makeshift cocoon, and Brian and I continued talking. We laughed and joked, and talked about our plans to quit that job – and then.. he kissed me. My first real kiss. It was sweet, exactly how you would expect a 17 year old boy to kiss, not a lot of skill, not a lot of lip.. but all the same, something that I will always remember. We kissed for a long time that night – and to me, it was absolutely perfect. The fire, the cool, fall breeze, his lips grazing my neck.


I didn’t want that evening to end, but eventually, the fire burned out, and we made our way back to our cars. My head was spinning, not from the Wine Coolers, but from the fact that I had just experienced my first real kiss. I felt different, like I knew this amazing secret, and couldn’t tell anyone.


After that night, Brian and I were kind of awkward around each other – it was hard to work with him. As time went on, we had our ups and downs, even tried to re-create that night a few times. But the one night, was unique..special.. and we just could not get that Magic back. I will always remember that night – and I hope that when the time comes, (God forbid) that my girls get to experience their first kiss, as wonderfully as I did. And I hope that they treasure that memory, like I do.

Brian is on the left - Yes, that's me in the Grimace costume.  As you can probably guess - I was a huge hit with the guys!!

Looking Back

Looking Back… How’d I do???



1) Surgeries – 2009 was the year I finished my major reconstruction. When I was first diagnosed with Breast cancer, I was married, with a 3-year old and a 5-year old. I was not interested in what my boobs looked like – so going into a bi-lateral mastectomy; I was only concerned with getting the cancer out of me as quickly as possible. Who knew that two weeks after my surgery – my now ex-husband would tell me that he did not love me anymore? Shortly after learning that, it became my personal goal to achieve Porn Star Boobs.. Perky, lovely mounds atop my ribs that would drive the men wild. (I had to make him regret it!!!!) Well, 14 surgeries and 4 years later – they’re done. Not exactly Porn star, but definitely internet porn worthy. After so many operations, I feel a sort of confusion – no looking forward to the next procedure, no JP drains hanging down from my armpit. I feel a sense of accomplishment – and I don’t cry when I look at myself in the mirror anymore – but I feel like I have lost a part of my family also, then staff and doctors that I have seen on a regular basis for so long – are now just a memory of white shoes and manila folders.


2) Money – (or lack thereof). 2009 sucked for everyone I know, on a financial basis. I was no different. I struggled a lot, and cut so many corners, that I no longer HAVE corners! But I am very thankful that the mortgage got paid, the bills got paid, and I have food in the pantry. I know that there are a lot of people who cannot say that. Being a single mom, I always feel like my struggle is harder than most – but I try not to cry martyr too often, and I do feel proud that I am able to support my children, not necessarily with all the luxuries and extracurricular events that some parents can provide, but, they seem to be okay with what they have.


3) Emotional – 2009 was the year that I decided not to feel guilty for being alive. When I was 10 years old, my mother died. I was then left to feel like a tremendous burden to my father. He in turn, made me feel that way. I generally felt like anything I did, was just a giant inconvenience to him. I generally felt this way about most people in my life – like I should be grateful that they associated with me. So, I became somewhat of a doormat to a lot of people. They would take advantage of my good nature, and need for acceptance. Soon, I disappeared. I never had an opinion; I never asked for help, I never picked what movie we saw, or where we ate. I went along with everything, I overpaid my share at dinner, I was always the designated driver, I always drifted into the background, never monopolized a conversation. I even married someone who allowed me to feel grateful for being with him. 2009 was the year when I decided that enough was enough! I am still a work in progress, but I have decided that I do not owe my existence to anyone but myself. I do not have to feel like I am lucky to have friends – I am a good friend, and I deserve to have good friends. I also deserve people who know how to be good friends – so I have taken steps to eliminate people who are not good friends, the ones who take without giving, who criticize to make themselves feel better, who put their needs first every time, who don’t listen. I tend to fall back into old habits, but going forward, I hope to fill my life with people who fill my life with what I need – not just what they need.


4) Food – I’m sad – I’ll eat. I’m lonely – I’ll eat. I’m happy – I’ll eat. To fill that empty spot in my heart – I have always turned to food. It was a comfort, a support, it never judged me. Until this year. This year, I turned into one of those people – ugh.. Too much dairy – food hangover. Too much beer – bloated. Too much sweets – toothache. What was happening??? My ‘ol reliable was no longer reliable. I realized that the empty spot was no longer filled by Taco Bell or Ice Cream. I was turning into an old person! Can’t eat those hot wings anymore! Can’t drink soda before bed! What am I going to do? I began to walk away from the things that I used to love, and when I didn’t – I allowed myself to give into the temptation…I paid for it. So, now, food no longer holds that happy place for me.. and as I continue to search to fill the void in my life – I no longer reach for the crap that has sustained me for all these years; I am forced to look elsewhere – try different things, reach out to people to fill the emptiness.. what a concept!!!!


5) Men – I wish I could say that 2009 was the year that I finally met the man of my dreams. That would be some great reading, I’m sure. But alas, 2009 was the year I met…. NO ONE! Yes, no one. No one was around on the weekend when the girls were with their dad. No one was around at night – when I could not sleep, and there was nothing on TV. No one was around on my birthday – no one got me a card, or a cake, or even gave me a birthday kiss. Face it, No one sucks. Now, now. It is not completely pathetic, there have been opportunities. Well, sort of. There are the guys online, on the internet dating sites – They initiate contact with such in depth messages like, “Hi”, or “Let’s Chat”. Or my favorite, “What’s up?”. There were a few guys who were ‘taken’ – in some way or another – emotionally unavailable – even physically unavailable! At one point in my life, when my self esteem was at its lowest, I might have jumped at these offers of sexual gratification, well, usually HIS sexual gratification, I was just there to service. I guess that I am no longer excited by just anyone showing an interest. I want substance, effort, and yes, dare I say, respect! I even have a list of qualities that I want in a man. For some reason, if I create a list, I feel less cluttered, more organized in my thought process. I am a big fan of lists. Maybe one of my future entries will be a list of things I am looking for in a man. But for now, let’s just say I am hoping to meet a good guy in 2010. He does not have to be perfect, but he does need to be into me, and that means making an effort. If you’ve ever read the book ‘He’s just not that into you’ – it is a true eye opener – and I believe quite the reality. Speaking as someone No one is into.


6) Happiness – It may sound to some, that for me to be happy – to fill that void – I need someone in my life. Sometimes, it feels like that is true. I am so tired of being alone – that it feels like almost anyone would be better than being alone. But then I look back at my life, and all that I have accomplished on my own, and I realize that Hey, I have come this far alone – I can keep going. And now, I look for other ways, besides having a significant other, to be happy. That may sound like a total copout- a response that fat, ugly chicks give for why they are alone. For years, as I wallowed in my aloneness with constant moans of self-pity.. now, I really look at my life, and I realize, that I have so many things in my life that are great – that I need to focus on them. My girls have come so far in 2009. They are funny, loving people, and as they get older, it is easier to go out and do things with them. We went to the circus this year, and my heart was full, watching them enjoy the different acts, eating cotton candy, laughing at the clowns. We spent hours together at the Library – Doing book Reports and Homework assignment. We walked the local petting zoo over and over again – talking about life along the way. I really got to know what my kids were thinking about as we watched the bears play. My older daughter was picked to play the clarinet – and listening to her squeak through practicing brought back a flood of memories for me, a forever band geek. My younger daughter makes her bed now, and helps feed the guinea pig, and she is doing great in school, and she cannot walk past me, without hugging me, or asking for a big ‘squish’. We have gone to parties, stores, washed the truck together and enjoyed ice cream on a hot summer evening. There have been pizza parties with the family, fondue parties with friends, birthday parties and BBQ’s, Movie nights, game nights, and dare I say – drunk nights. There have been re-connections with old friends, and I even made some new friends. I’ve updated my resume, refinanced my mortgage, transferred my 401K, unclogged a drain, moved some furniture and even put up my own Christmas lights. I conquered the attic stairs, climbed a ladder, gotten lost while driving, then found my way home, and wrote to a soldier. I complained about receiving bad service, searched for discounts and deals and tried a few brand new recipes.


I guess I did pretty well in 2009. Here’s hoping that 2010 bring with it more successes, more good times, and maybe more Sangira!


Happy New Year all!!!!!

Happy New Year!!!!!

It’s the end of another year, and everywhere you turn, there are lists. Lists of top (fill in whatever you want here) of 2009. Worst of 2009, Potentials for 2010, everything you could even think of, there is a list for it.

So hear ya go!!! Yet another list..
Top 8 Suggestions to Make 2010 Your Best Year YET! (yeah 8 – not 10, not 5 – I wanted to be different!)

8) Stop sweating the small stuff!! In a week, is it really going to matter?? The other day, I went into work, same as usual. A million things racing through my mind, stressed from fighting traffic on the Long Island Expressway, annoyed that it was so cold, wondering if there would be enough time to run out at lunch and return some Christmas gifts… Then, my boss walked over to me and tells me that a co-worker was killed in a car accident the night before. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. I felt light-headed and everything that was on my mind, just left.

7) Dishes can wait, snuggling on the sofa, with your kids, watching a Curious George episode for the 100th time, cannot. I like organization, and cleanliness. I am also a fan of relaxing, but until recently, I found it very difficult to relax on the couch, watching TV, until the dishes were done, the garbage was out and the crumbs cleaned off the table and counters. Then I realized, spending 15 or 20 minutes sitting on the sofa, between my two favorite people, was extremely relaxing, and the more times I did it, the more I could squeeze Jessica, or smell Madeline’s hair. And a funny thing happened while sitting on that sofa – we started talking, and I learned that Madeline has a tough time a recess, when her best friend goes off to play with someone else, and I found out that Jessica is fascinated with how the inside of a human body works. Would I know these things without our ‘snuggle’ time? Maybe – but I am glad I know now!


6) A guy who makes you cry is not worth it. I am such a sucker when it comes to men. I know this. A few charming words, a little attention, and I am hooked. But these actions are temporary – and if he was really worth it, he would not do things that make you cry. If a guy is truly into you, he will make the effort, he will chase you. Any guy you have to chase, does not respect you. It took me a dozen years to learn that one. Now I just have to start living what I have learned.


5) There is no need to alert people to their shortcomings – somewhere inside them, they already know – and they really don’t need to hear it from you. We all fall into that pit. We know better than anyone, and it is our job to tell people how to live their lives. WRONG! Every person is different. Every parent has their own way of doing things. Every child has their own way of making their bed. Unless someone comes up to you and says “TELL ME WHAT TO DO, AND I WILL DO WHAT YOU SAY!!” – they are not looking for direction. If someone comes to you with their problems, they are not looking for you to solve them, they are just trying to get something that is bothering them off their chest. Be a friend, be supportive. Say, “I’m sorry you are feeling that way” or “I’m so sorry you have to go through this” Then ask if there is anything that you can do. That is being supportive. Telling them that they are stupid for getting in a situation does not help. Telling them that they should do what you tell them to do, is also an easy way to get tuned out. Also, pointing out someone’s flaws is not nice. Period. Unless you are prepared to hear a few of your own flaws, to which, in my experience, the person berating people, is usually so insecure in their own skin, that they have to bring someone else down, in order to attempt to bring themselves up. So, the next time you feel it is necessary to point out to your chubby friend that they looked better when they were exercising, be prepared to either be bitch slapped, or reminded that your ass looked so much smaller when YOU were exercising!


4) People who brag about how wonderful their lives are on their facebook status, usually have pretty crappy lives. You know that person – “my son made honor roll, was voted Class prom king, Class president, Class valedictorian and got a full scholarship to Harvard” Is usually their status. Well, let me tell you – it is annoying to hear how wonderful things are, be especially weary of those who throw in “my life is so great”! If you have to say it, it usually isn’t so! Now don’t get me wrong, and occasional brag is great – cool even. But you need to mix it up a little- how about “had a flat this morning– under the 6 feet of snow that fell last night” – and we are sympathizing with you in a big way. It shows that you are a human, and humans have flaws, and confident humans are those that are able to laugh at themselves. A highly attractive quality. I believe it is called, showboating – like telling a young woman, who has been struggling with infertility for five years that you are pregnant – and it was an accident. That is very nice for you – but have a little decency and consideration for the rest of the general public. Or maybe telling the man who just lost his wife to an illness that you can’t stand your wife – and you wish she was dead – all because she fed you chicken when you wanted lasagna.


3) If someone is going through a hard time – do NOT say ‘Call me if you need anything’. First off, this is not about you. That has to be one of the laziest excuses for support ever. A few years back, I was sick. Really sick – like it’s a miracle I am still alive sick. That was an amazing gift to me. Because I got to see first hand, who my true friend were, and who were the ones that were disposable out of my life – if necessary. When you are going through a bad time, you don’t want to burden people with you problems, or asking them for help – and by calling them, you will be putting them out. If someone is that important to you, you would not wait to be called, you would be there – doing things, trying to really help, being a support, because you wanted to, because you cared about someone other than yourself. “Call me if you need anything” gets you off the hook, because most people know, that the person in need is usually not going to call if they need something – and if they do call, you can always make up some excuse like “oh I can’t – my sister in law’s ex husband’s cousin is in town”. Therefore – by saying those words – “Call me if you need me” – it appears that you are a caring person – yet you are not required to be inconvenienced in the slightest – because now, you are off the hook from actually doing anything – and if you are called upon, you can always make up an excuse to get out of it.


2) Sex is Sex, and just because it is good – does not mean that a relationship will develop. A man with an erection will do anything and say anything you want him to. Once that erection has been satisfied – he’s done. The sex could be amazing. You could make him cry at the point of orgasm. Once his brain cells have returned to his head, he will return to his wife, girlfriend, dog, mother. A man that is yours emotionally, and who comes after you, even after the return of the brain cells Northward, has potential for a future – however, always remember the old saying “Why buy the cow when you get the milk for free” – it may be slightly outdated, but the meaning is the same. Men don’t respect easy women. Once they fuck you – and they got what they wanted, the chase is over – and they move on to the next conquest. However, if the emotional relationship has been established prior to the physical one, then there is a chance that he may stick around. Maybe.


1) Don’t be a Dick. If you do something – and you realize that you hurt someone else – apologize, mean it, and don’t do it again. Nuff said.






Happy New Year all.

An ode to Mrs. Brady

Everything I really need to know, I learned from 70’s and 80’s Television.

My childhood was one of solitude. I look back, and can say that honestly. Due to tragic circumstances, I was raised in a single parent home. My one parent was not emotionally equipped to raise a child - and my only sibling was several years older than I was. I spent most of my younger years entertaining myself – and watching TV. With a lack of guidance, I could have taken a turn for the worse, and become a ‘bad’ kid – in fact, in today’s world, I would probably either be drugged out, involved in porn (for a career, not just for enjoyment), or dead. This path however, is not the one I have taken. Due to my independence at such an early age – I have become a completely self-sufficient and extremely independent person. I believe that I owe a lot of my character to TV shows from the 70’s and 80’s.

In those days, schools did not care about your socialization skills, or if you were a ‘high risk’ child. If you were an average student, and went to a fairly large sized school, as I did, you could get by being practically invisible. If you think about it, before the horrors that occurred at Columbine, schools did not have the know-how to help kids with their emotional struggles. Math, Science, English – good. Self Esteem, Emotional support, Confidence Building – Whu? Not the schools problem – you can’t grade Self-Esteem. Nowadays, the school Social Worker is out in the open, involved in activities, available to any student in need. Back then, I don’t even know if the school had a Social Worker.

I remember one time, going to see my guidance counselor, because a girl had stolen my purse, which, at age 14, was chock full of sentimental little treasures. A few weeks later, the sister of the thief was walking around the school, carrying my purse. The guidance counselor brought the two of us in the room, and she said she did not know it was mine, and she would give it back. Which she did, a few days later – empty of course, with a broken closure. The thief did not even get a slap on the wrist.
 THE GIRL STOLE FROM ME! When I think back to how poorly that was handled, it makes me crazy. But that is another story..

So, back to my character development and television. For a latch-key kid, as I was, coming home to an empty house meant hours of television watching. There was always the boob-tube. My babysitter, my companion, my encyclopedia, my mentor. Decades before anyone had ever heard of Google, we went to the television for answers to our questions.

There was The Brady Bunch, which I proudly admit, I watched over and over again, even when it was an unwritten law that nobody was permitted to watch such an incredibly uncool show. There was Mrs. Brady – square dancing with me in the living room and making my costume for the school play. Alice – giving me a special locket, when I felt like no one was interested in my struggles being the middle child. And Mr. Brady – carrying me when I fell in the water on our camping trip, and looking so groovy in his colorful leisure suits.

Little House on the Prairie had me crying when my horse, Bunny died, laughing at Nellie and her crazy mother, and feeling loved, as Ma and Pa embraced me and cried because they loved me so much.

There was Happy Days, the coolest show to watch – and its spinoff, Laverne and Shirley. Both, a bit risqué for a young child to watch – but like a taboo, I was drawn to it, for its coolness. I relished the power the next day on the bus, when I got to rehash every single moment. Fonzie and I danced the dance marathon. Potsie sang to me and I sent him love notes calling him ‘Dren’ (nerd spelled backwards). I worked at Shotz and drank Milk and Pepsi, and Chachi – well he was just too hot for words.

Three’s Company had me hanging out at the Regal Beagle, putting half my hair in pony tails, and wishing I had a roommate to share my room with. I struggled to come up with the rent money, and waited patiently for Mr. Roper to fix my window.

As I got a little older, and more mature, The Facts of Life had me going out on my first date, experiencing my first kiss, and suffering the backlash when I would not let my boyfriend go all the way in the back of his van.

I enjoyed many vacations aboard the Love Boat. Puerto Vallarta is lovely, and you can never have too many Horse Piñatas. I always left, knowing that I would be back, and life would be that much sweeter because my friends, Julie, Doc, Gopher, Isaac and the Captain would be able to solve all of my problems.

I hosted Saturday Night Live, played Match Game, and won the Stanley Cup, all from my couch in the den with the orange and brown paneling. I know that it is not the most ideal childhood. However, I did get the understanding that Drugs are bad, you should not steal, girls who go all the way are easy, and you should always tell the truth. I also learned that there are people who love and care about each other . TV gave me a sense of security – I could turn on the TV, and magically, there were people there who I could depend on to be there (unless they got cancelled – but they came back, through the power of syndication). I could disappear into someone else’s life. I could be pretty, I could be popular, I could be funny, I could be mean, I could be loved.

I've Fallen! and I can't get up!!!!

When I was a young child, buttons made me gag. I truly have no idea why, but the sight of them, literally made me convulse in spasm. If I close my eyes, I see them, and I remember being repulsed by them. Any type of button - any shape, any texture. This presented quite a problem for my mother, as she had to be sure that every stitch of clothing that I owned, could not have a button anywhere on the garment. Think about it, no button closures on shirts (I wore a lot of turtlenecks) – no buttons on pants (snaps I could handle – and being young, I was not yet a slave to fashion) – no buttons on jackets (ahhh, I remember my faux fur purple jacket, with the funky closures circa 1975)..


I eventually outgrew the aversion, or perhaps traded it for others. There was the summer where I refused to wear a bikini top – there I was, swimming in the pool, with my green checkered bikini bottoms, with the ruffled skirt attached – and no top. I was probably 4 or 5 at the time – and I remember my parents softly suggesting that I add a top to my suit – and I flatly refused. This would eventually come back to haunt me, in the form of pictures in the family photo album. Thankfully, they have not found their way onto Facebook, although I am sure that eventually they will, completely destroying any chance of me having a reputable movie career..

There was my fear of shredded wheat. I guess it was not really a fear – but more of an aversion. You see, the last time I had eaten shredded wheat - I went to school, and wound up puking pink all over the classroom floor – yes, pink, like Pepto Bismol. I was in 3rd grade, and my dear friend, Tricia, whom I have been friends with for well over 35 years, has no problem bringing the story up, repeatedly, to anyone we both come in contact with. I thought in my head that it was in fact, the shredded wheat that made me puke, when in fact, it was probably something completely unrelated. Come to think of it, I believe that Tricia mentioned my pink puke nightmare in a speech on my wedding day. No wonder my marriage didn’t last!

As I have aged, things have gotten worse – aversion wise. Yet, I think I have a perfectly logical explanation for many of my idiosyncrasies..

There is my issue with plastic cutlery. Open plastic forks, knives, spoons – gross! Who knows what grimy fingers were touching them! Perhaps someone sneezed on them. Perhaps small creatures defecated on them. All in all, whenever I am eating, and it necessitates plastic utensils, a part of me dies inside.

Windmills - Those giant blades swinging around.. I am terrified of being hit by one. Worse! I am afraid that one will swoop around, and I will be forced to grab on and swing around on one.. I am sure it would not be enjoyable, especially with my huge fear of falling.

Falling - I am not graceful. Nor am I blessed with ample cushion in my posterior. So, when I fall on my ass, it hurts, and I am sure rather a funny scene, as with no upper arm strength, and bad knees, getting up is a bit of a challenge. I try to avoid falling at all costs. I don’t wear shoes with any sort of heel, as my lack of coordination could turn into a nasty fall. I walk around puddles, small creatures, children and plants (there could be a hidden branch that could jump out at any time). Last year’s difficult winter was a nightmare for me. The snow, I was fine with. It was the hidden danger – ice… the arch enemy to those afraid of falling. Last year, I had just started a new job, and had to struggle to get there on time every morning, even during the snow and sleet. The parking lot was not plowed very well, and there were many patches of snow and ice. I would be forced to climb snow banks, to get to the building entrance. One morning, I climbed over a snow bank, and unbeknownst to me, right onto a patch of ice, covered in snow. I immediately went down. Worse.. I could not get up, as I was dead center in the ice. I had to crawl to a dry patch of street, and hug the curb as I hauled myself up off the ground. Thankfully¸ no one saw my acrobatics. But my day was ruined, and my knees and ass were soaked.

Horses – Now, from a distance, horses are beautiful animals. Watching someone ride a horse is a beautiful thing. In my youth, I wanted nothing more than to learn how to ride a horse. But, then I remember my experience with Paul Bunyon Day Camp – and I find it difficult to harness the pain.

It was the summer before I entered fourth grade. My parents both worked, and I had to be stuck somewhere for the summer. So, my parents thought it would be good for me to go to day camp. I hated the plan. I wanted to stay home with my older brother and watch reruns of ‘What’s Happening’ and ride my bike and look for frogs. Side note: Have you noticed that there are no frogs around? I never see a frog in my yard, even though I have quite the forest going on back there. But anyhow, back to Paul Bunyon and his awful camp… We went to the camp, to take a tour, sometime around April or May. Back then you did not have to go on a waiting list for two years before getting your child into a day camp. So, we tour the place, which to me, sucked. I made it quite clear that I had no interest in going when my parents threw in the ultimate bribe… “If you go to day camp.. you can take HORSEBACK RIDING!!!!” I immediately saw myself astride a beautiful palomino, graceful and happy, jumping those things horses jump.. me, with my fashionable riding gear and snappy hat… It was beautiful. It was every 8 year old girls’ dream. Yeah, well, a funny thing happened on the way to day camp.. HORSEBACK RIDING IS EXPENSIVE! So, I never got to go to the horseback riding classes. I got to change in and out of my bathing suite in a room with 35 other girls. Not exactly my idea of a good summer, and not exactly a good self esteem builder for the chubby girl. That was also the summer that a cat came into our backyard, and ate my pet duck. But, I couldn’t grieve – because I had to go to DAY CAMP!

You may ask, what does this story have to do with my fear of horses?? I’m getting to that part.. You see, when I got older, and I started dating my first boyfriend. Horseback riding was one of those romantic things you do in the beginning of a relationship. We also went row boating, kissing down by the water, on many picnics and pumpkin picking around Halloween. But, I digress. We decided to take a car trip out east, towards Montauk. Along the way, we see a sign, “HORSEBACK RIDING”.. so I squeal like a girl, then I share the story of my youth with my new boyfriend. Because he had yet obtained carnal knowledge of me, he was anxious to please me, in hopes of getting me to play with his ding ding.. So, off we went to ride horses.

We got to the farm, and parked the car. We walked toward the stable. I was so excited. I could not wait to straddle the beast (the horse – the boyfriend came later.. literally) . We walked up to a horse.. the smell was so strong, I could barely breathe. The files were like a swarm of locust, passing over the town. The horse was huge! In my fantasies, it never occurred to me exactly how I was going to get up on the giant beast – I somehow, just magically appeared astride the beautiful creature. Then, it began to pee. Or, should I say, without being too graphic, the horse’s giant penis emerged, and from it, a monsoon of urine erupted. All I could think about was my shoes. It was at that point, I decided that I was afraid of horses. So, in order to appear cool in front of my man, I turned to him and said “You wanna do this, or go back to my place and have sex?” He never knew that I was scared, although I think he was always a little intimidated by the size of the horse’s appendage.

So, here I am, a 42 year-old lunatic. I guess I should re-read this, to be sure that I spelled everything correctly, but alas, for some strange reason.. I am afraid.

Good Night everyone. Sweet Dreams.