when it rains...

So, why is it that when everything is going fine, something has to come along to screw it up??? Why can't we just have our perfect little holidays in our perfect little home with our perfect little lives? First, I have to go and get old! Thanks to today. And not only do I have to get old, but I have to keep reminding myself of it. Every time I signed somthing today that required a date, I put the wrong year! I put 1975 instead of 2007. I got tired of correcting it and left it on the last few items. Then Sierra is becoming a hormonal teenager. What happened to my angel? And then I stopped losing weight a few days ago--I lost 5 pounds in 8 days and now nothing for days! Oh, and did I mention that I left the windows open on the jeep last night and when I got in this morning my ass got wet because it rained last night?  All of this on top of my sinus infection. And then what happens on my way home? I get pulled over. I think the cop only gave me a break because it's my birthday. Then who should show up on my doorstep? Not the flower delivery guy... Nope, not a cake delivery, either... Nope, not publishers clearinng house. And unfortunately, not my best friend in the whole world--noooo--she hasn't even called to say happy getting old day. It was none other than my ex-husband!!!!!!!! I know it's a horrible thing to say, and I know I shouldn't put this kind of energy out into the world, but I wish he would just... ok, so, I'll think it instead... Yeah... I'll just think really bad things...

totally blond

Ok, so you wanna laugh? Read on. I usually get up at 445 every morning and am out the door by 600, and my cell phone is my alarm clock. Yesterday I dropped my phone and picked it up adn checked it and it was fine. I never thought a thing in the world about the fact that the light never went off on it. Like even when I went to bed I had to turn it face down because of the light in it. Never thought a thing. So, this morning I wake up and it's still black outside and I think to myself, wow... my alarm hasn't gone off yet. I wonder how much time I have left to sleep. I should look at the time... Nope, because then I won't be able to fall back to sleep. Yeah, but it could be like 2 a.m. and I would be thrilled to be able to sleep longer. So, I decided to look at the time. 5:59 a.m. I am usually out of the hosue by 6 and it was one minute 'til. Needless to say, I bolted out of bed and ran to look at my husband's cell... Yep, same time on his, too. My alarm never went off. So, somehow, I manage to get in the shower, brush my teeth and powder my nose and get dressed. I am just getting ready to walk out the door at 614 with my purse in one hand, keys in the other with my cell, sunglasses on my shirt and hat on my head, when I hear MOM! I look around to notice that I was just about to leave the house, wearing my bra, panties, shirt, vest, and even shoes... but...wait for it... no pants! All of my clothes, except my pants had been upstairs--they had been in the dryer downstairs and I forgot all about them. I wonder how far I would have gotten...

it doesnt get any better than this

Life just doesn't get any better! I am loving it! So, besides the fact that my wonderful husband did finally get his own store, and the fact that we are living in the most awesome house, I am no longer teaching middle school. I am in high school now! It's the greatest. High schoolers are so much cooler than middle schoolers. They have brains and can actually think and talk and communicate. It's fantastic.

The kids are all good. Sierra is going to LA in January. Dakota has finally gotten his grades up and just a few months from being allowed to get his permit. Canyon and Nevada are both doing well in school. Chuck's store is really growing. I honestly couldn't ask for more. My sweetheart of a husband is taking me to Holiday Isle Resort in December. We are going to Lexington in November. Jersey in June was too much fun. I'm going to be an aunt again. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, though. :) Oh, and my mother is marrying a man my age. go figure. ;) And on top of all that, it almost Halloween!!!! Yippee!

Party here at the house on Sunday the 14th of Oct. Come celebrate with us. Love to all! 

summertime!

So, it's finally summertime! I am sooooooo glad this school year is finally over! And the only thing that sucks now, is that I have to work some of the summer. I guess that's not so bad, since I am not stuck in a classroom everyday. Actually, my summer should be pretty cool. The weekend before school ended, we got to go to Jersey for Chuck's sister's wedding. That was nice. It was a quick turn-around, but we had a blast while we were there. I have a gallery show or two this summer, and we are going on a family camping trip in August. Davie is coming to visit in July, and I have to go to orlando for a week in July. The mother and grandmother came for a short visit last week. Hopefully, we can work in Islands of Adventure at some point. The kids (Dakota and Sierra) are going to the Bahamas and Washington. Not fair. Chuck is weeks from getting his own store... Cross your fingers for us. I guess that about sums it all up. At least for the moment...

life's a roller coaster...

Life is such a roller coaster... High as a kite one minute and hittin' rock bottom the next... It looks like I will be getting my dream car within the next month. I can't wait. I am so excited. I have always wanted a jeep, and after driving Dawn and Darrell's year before last when we were in the Outer Banks, I am totally been jonesing for one of my own. So when I found out I was getting one, I was walking on air... My web design business is booming, I've gotten a few calls for my photography, school is almost out... Life couldn't be better... Then, the asshole exhusband strikes again! He hasn't paid child support in two months so I emailed to find out what's up. He emails back and tells me he isn't planning on paying anymore. Asshole. So I am stressing over this because it's that money I use to pay the after-school program for the two youngest kids. The only good thing is that's over in a month. So, Sierra is sitting there while I am stressing, and I look at her and say "don't ever marry a bum." Her answer: "Darn! And that's just the kind of guy I was looking for. Come on, Mom, even I'm smarter than that."So, this conversation begs the answer, is my 12 year old smarter than me? Me, who holds degrees, who is more than twice her age, who has ten times the amount of life experience than her... And if so, why didn't someone just shoot me about 20 years ago? And why isn't that Dawinian theory about survival of the fittest working out here? I mean, I'm still kicking, and my ex-husband is obviously still kicking... Can someone rethink that theory for me and get back to me on that? I am off to live another day on my roller coaster of  life...

life goes on...

Ok…. I spent the last few months I was in Germany with the Hadleys. Their home was my refuge, my respite. Eventually summer rolled around again. I went back to Holland to live with my father and the wicked step mother again. Sometime between watching my little sister, who was in my charge, be hit by a speeding car, and getting expelled from school because my father told me if I didn't fight back, I would have to fight him at home, I managed to piss my step mother off. I was banished to the attic where I would lie awake at night listening to Casey on AFN Radio, and pretend I was someone special who'd been kidnapped and was being held for ransom. Sometime while I was in Holland, my mother and step father were sent back stateside. I was angry, alone and confused, so I started doing what all kids do when they feel like that. I was constantly in trouble at school for fighting, back talking teachers, or getting caught making out with seniors in the upper classmen's hallway. Then I started experimenting. There were two sisters who lived across the street, and their parents were never home. They were a little older, and a lot more experienced. I learned so much.

One day my dad left on TDY. He was sent to FL and left me alone with my wicked step mother and two step sisters. She saw her opportunity. Not more than 3 weeks after my dad headed out, she had me on a plane headed state side. I stayed with my grandmother for a little while, but I was already so screwed up in the head, it didn't matter who I lived with. Somehow, during this time, I was able to contact an old friend from Germany named Heidi, who happened to have a phone number or address for a mutual friend named Brian. Brian, who was living in NY at the time, just happened to have an address I needed. So there I was, holding an address in one hand, and a pink and blue ribbon in the other. I mailed the letter, and not too long after, my phone rang. My wannabe fighter pilot was on the other end. For another few years we wrote back and forth with the occassional phone call. I lived most of my time in a futuristic fantasy world. When I wasn't there, I was in reality. My reality was hell. I hated my step mother and felt betrayed by my father. I hated my step father and felt betrayed by my mother. It was me against the world. Like lots of kids then and now...

Everybody knows there is rehab for drug users, and alcoholics, and even sex offenders, but not everybody knows there is behavior rehab. And an even lesser known fact is that such a place exists for kids. I was put into a place that the residents lovingly referred to as "Looney Tunes Hell." There I met some of my best friends. Meg started out as my worst enemy. She beat the shit out of me on a regular basis, until I finally learned what she was trying to teach me--that the world didn't revolve around me--go figure. And that I needed to figure out when to keep my mouth shut. Then we became friends. Then a girl named Alicia checked in, and she taught me how to make fake id's and how to get into places I had no business being. She also taught me that I was slicing the wrong way. The razor blade had to go up and down. Carlos and Troy became the brothers I never had; my protectors. They always seemed to know when I needed to be rescued. And then after we all got out, Carlos was always there after a beating from my step father. Three months of learning things I never would have otherwise had opportunity to learn, I was released into the big bad world. We all got out at about the same time. Alicia finally cut deep enough, and then Meg went off the deep end when her older sister got into the wrong car with the wrong guy. They found her body in the woods outside of Ft. Knox a few days after she went missing. Eventually Troy moved back to Louisville, and that left me and Carlos. He and my step dad didn't get along too well: my step dad didn't like being told who he could and couldn't hit on.

So one night it got pretty ugly, and mom had to call the cops. The ambulance took me to a hospital in Louisville. After I was released from the hospital, I was put into Ten Broeck, a psych hospital near La Grange. I met more of my kind there. And I met a guy. He was a counselor there. He was probably in his late 20s, early 30s, and I was only 12 or 13. I was too young to care, and he was old enough to know better. But as he said, I was vain, and he lavished me with gifts and attention. I spent 6 months there. I fell in love with music while I was there. Ozzy was a god, and Motley Crue wasn't too far behind. Since TB was in L-ville, Troy resurfaced a few times. Some guys from the narc unit saw me through my window and started planning our escape, and then my grandmother brought me a letter from my long lost knight. It was like that for years: a letter here and there, an occasional phone call, and then nothing for many months. When I was released from TB, I went to a group home: Spring Meadows. Sounds nice, huh? I lasted less than 3 weeks. But it's late. Let's save that for another night.

1984

It was 1984. I was around 9 years old, and living at Patch Air Force Base in Germany, with my mother and step father. 

His name is unimportant. The fate behind all of our chance encounters are what's to take note of. I was 9 years old and it was winter time. It was after my birthday, and it may even have been after Christmas, since school was back in session. I was wearing a pair of new earrings and an outfit I got for my birthday. On the playground at school there was a medium sized dirt hill that would freeze over if it got cold enough. Kids would bring bags, like plastic bags from the PX or commissary to sit on and slide down the hill. Make-shift sleds since we were at school. So one day I slid down this hill. As I reached the bottom and began to stand up, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I wasn't fast enough. Before I even had a clear idea of what was happening, I was being pummeled to the ground by some stupid boy who didn't make sure to check if the slope was clear. His jacket caught on my brand new earring and ripped it out. I was crying and bleeding, and swearing the best that a ten year old can: " you stupid head. You're a jerk!" He apologized profusely, but my pride was hurt, so I stomped off, never really looking at his face. It was a year before I even thought of that incident again.

It was the summer that Top Gun came out in theatres. I met a boy who thought he was Maverick. He was pretty cute, and in one grade higher than me. We rode bikes, played on the playground, stood and talked outside of the school dances, played tag, and talked on the phone. He was my first true love. One day we were talking on the phone and he asked me if I remembered being knocked over on the playground a year or so before. Then he described the incident and told me it was him that had plowed me down. He said that at that moment he knew I was the one, and that it was my smile that he remembered. He said he would recognize my smile anywhere. I'm not sure I believed him then…

One day he called and said his parents were splitting, and he had to go back stateside with his mother and brother.  He was leaving the very next morning, but he could meet me that evening, on the corner of Florida Strausse, which was where we always met to hang out. We were going to say goodbye. I rode my bike as fast and hard as I could. I got there, and waited. And waited. He never came. There was a rose bush near the corner we were to meet at. I tore one off, and on the off chance he came after I left, I tore the petals up and left them lying where I knew he would see them. Years later I found out he never saw them. My only comfort was we said we would write and we swore to always wait on the other. No matter what, we swore, we would find each other some day. I took comfort in the fact that, as he said, we slept under the same sky, and that the moon I gazed upon was the same one he saw, and that there was always a possibility that the star I was wishing on was the same one he wished on. Somehow, that helped. For years we kept in touch. Letters, drawings, pictures, and the occasional phone call. Eventually, we lost touch. My heart broke, and for many years, there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't cross my mind. Growing up...

So then there I was in Germany, alone, with a miserable mother, an alcoholic step father, and my best friend in the whole world, Mom H. I don't remember much about that time period. Summers were spent at the outdoor pool, and winter weekends at the indoor pool, and the school days are a blur. Groundings meant I had to spend my day pulling weeds, sweeping sidewalks, and picking up trash. I tried to stay on base as much as possible to avoid those kinds of chores. My thought process was that if I wasn't there, I couldn't get in trouble.

The only memorable thing that happened after that, that I can remember, is a bike. It was Christmas again, and I hadn't asked for anything but a new ten speed bike. I had it picked out and everything. It's all I wanted. I begged for months. Christmas morning came and I ran into the living room. No bike. But there was a really big box, so maybe that was it and it needed to be assembled. I opened each gift, leaving the big box 'til last. As I came to the big box, I grinned. I just KNEW it was my bike. I tore the paper back and began peeling it down the sides of the box to expose the picture. It wasn't my brand new bike. It was… a stereo system. Well, I know most kids would be thrilled with that. And I was happy about it, but it just wasn't my bike. I had my heart set on that thing, and now my heart was broken. I did my best to hide my disappointment, while wondering how we could afford a new stereo system and not be able to afford a bike. It came time to clean up the boxes and paper. My mother, my step father and I picked up as much as our arms could hold and started down the steps into the storage room below our apartment building. I led the line, and when we reached the door, I just threw the boxes in and started to turn around. My step father bellowed from behind me to take them all the way to the back, not to leave them lying in the doorway to be tripped over. I did what I was told, fighting back tears of disappointment, because the longer the morning went on, the more I thought about it, and the deeper I felt the loss of that which I'd never even had. I rounded the corner with my pile of boxes and stopped dead in my tracks. There, against the back wall, stood the most beautiful, shiny new pink and grey 10 speed bike with a small white bow on the handle bars. I dropped my burden and ran over to it, squealing in delight. I got it! I really got it! My brand new ten speed! This wasn't just a bike. This was an escape. This was my means to freedom from the tyranny in my home. With this I could go further than I had in the past, and I could get anywhere I was going faster than my old little banana seat bike. This was my ticket out.

rambling, I think...

Ok, so someone told me I should cut and paste. That way I don't have to keep it up in both places, just in one, and the other I can cheat at. :) So I may give that a shot...

I teach middle school, and lots of those kids call me mom. I love them like they were my own. My heart breaks for them as though I were the one who carried them. Maybe that's why I need out of it. It drains so much of my energy to care that much. It doesn't leave me much for home life. Inner city, urban school district in the middle of metropolitan palm beach county, fl. Why? Why do I teach--no, why do I teach there? I was a 6th grade drop out. Streets, group homes, foster homes, shelters and juvenile detention centers. That was my life for a long time while I was younger... No one on earth should have to go through what I did. If I can manage to keep it from happening to another, or at least delay it, then mine all had purpose. But I'm starting to burn out. So I am embarking on new endeavors...

I am tutoring in the afternoons, designing web sites and working part time in an art gallery as a director. Check out my gallery's site (which I designed) at www.urs-arts.com. Charles, hopefully, will be buying into his restaraunt before the end of the year. Life will be easier then.

I've made a few decisions. I have decided that I want Sinatra played at my funeral. Not that I am planning on dying anytime soon, but when it happens, I want "I Did It My Way" played. I know that's probably a little unorthodox, but hey, it works for me. I have also decided to give marriage one more shot. Those of you who know me weel, I know what you are thinking right now, and you can just sit there and shut up. Charles and I decided to get married. It's his second, and technically it's my 3rd. But my second doesn't really count. It only lasted like 3 days. So it's pretty much my second one, too. The last one was kind of the consequence for impulsively losing a bet... But we won't go there...

I want to learn to mambo. I wonder where I can learn that. I think the only reason I want to learn is because I really like Sinatra's song, "Mambo Italiano". At least I think it's Sinatra. If anybody has a clue as to who really sings that, please let me know...

Good morning, Good afternoon, and Good night....

smile

When you feel terrific, notify your face.

Pressing on

Press on. Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not: nothing is more common than unrewarded talent. Education alone will not: the world is full of educated failures. Persistence alone is omnipotent