I figured since Lenny has lots to say about flying, I would say a few things about it myself. . .
My family is pretty respectful of my severe dislike of the entire miserable event. (The event of flying that is.) Here are a few rules that are loosely followed by the people I travel with.
I don’t want to talk about flying once our feet have touched the plane. I don’t want to discuss how the weather is going to affect the flight or how some of the people look like terrorists. I don’t want to discuss the wings, flaps, pitch and all the crap that Lenny is learning in flight school that keep the levitating trap from hell in the sky!
Arianna sits on one side of me by the window with her headphones on watching movies. Lenny sits on the other side of me with his headphones on watching movies. I sit in the middle holding a book and staring blankly at the words. No one is to talk to me unless they need to pee. Otherwise there is NOTHING to say until the flight is over. Although I may not look it, I am very busy up there in the sky. I am using my energy to help the pilot and God keep the plane in the sky. I am also deterring any undesirable turbulence from affecting our already hellish experience up there far. far away from the lovely Earth.
Take off and landing are very exhausting for me since I really need to exert my energy then. During take off I’m sending my magic “go, baby, go and lift off” energy out and during landing I’m using my “nice and easy” energy to help the pilot land softly. My hands become sweaty during both events.
Here’s a little side note: I believe it should be against the law for people to wear perfume and cologne on planes. No one wants to smell you for 5 hours. It’s sickening. It’s bad enough that we’re all crammed together with all these burping, farting, coughing, sneezing people! I don’t want any additional, unnecessary discomforts like the stench of bad perfume.
I remember my father reading a book when I was a teenager that talked about “your zero”. Let’s say you are driving on the highway blasting music happily. You pull up to a toll booth and automatically turn down the music. That is because your “zero” has changed – your point of comfort with the loudness of the music – your point of overall comfort.
That being said, there are two states of being for me that affect every other possible state of being – cold and not cold. We have been here in Las Vegas at our condo since the first of July and I have to say that I AM NOT COLD! I have this lovely pair of overwarn, stained, beloved fuzzy socks that generally protect my feet from weather below 90 degrees. They have been sitting lonely in my bedroom drawer since we got here. It is wonerful!
When I am cold, that means that I am not at my zero. I am not at my zero when it’s wintery, icey, firgid, cold, cool, chilly, breezy, lukewarm, airconditioned, or anything other than hot. So that tends to affect my overall day to day being. If a happy event occurs while I am anything less than “Not Cold” than I cannot be completely happy because I already started at something less than my zero.
I’m not sure if this is what that great thinker had in mind while speaking of one’s zero, but this is how I’ve applied it to my day to day existence. My zero is my state of being where I am neither hot or cold, sad or happy, angry or elated. It’s where I just am. When I am regular, average, normal. You know – living comfortably without straying from the median.
Right now, my veins are popping out of my arms, my feet are warm, my blood is circulating and I am content sitting her on my deck at a comfortable 108 degrees. I am happy and at MY Zero!!!
We all know that this world is corrupt in so many ways – including our own country. Did you know that your own town, your own neighborhood, your own neighbor, or even worse, your very own friend could be capable of corruption or corrupting those around her?
I spent the day at Camel Beach with great friends and wonderful children the other day. Ok, feel the excitement with me here for a minute, people, ok? We are at the top of a water slide, getting ready to race each other down to the bottom, as a group. A bunch of teenage boys behind us are eagerly awaiting their turn as they watch us with great anticipation. I am leaning over, hanging onto my mat, waiting for the lifeguard to blow the whistle when Arianna asks for help holding onto her mat so she doesn’t slide down before the race is set to begin. With my right hand I am holding onto my own mat and with my left hand and foot I reach over to steady her mat. Yes, I feel like I am playing Twister at the top of a water slide! All of the sudden, I feel a POP!!! My bikini top shoots open and the gang of 14 year old boys waiting in line let out a gasp!
I let go of Arianna’s mat and quickly try to block the “view” with one hand, while hanging on to my mat for dear life with the other hand. The last thing I need is to bounce my way down this darn slide topless! I called to the lifeguard, who was just getting ready to blow her whistle and ask her to help me. Not only did my top POP open, but the hook broke! I call for Kelly and the girls. They all pick up their mats and come running (and laughing) to help me. Kelly tied a noose around my boobs and a sweet child offered her hairband for reinforcement.
And so, I spent the rest of the day with poor circulation to my upper half and succeeded in corrupting a few innocent boys in the line behind me! Leave it to me to mess up a “G” rated family event!!!
One of my greatest joys is my husband’s biggest pet peeve. I am so glad to have Arianna home this summer – especially with the endless hours of singing. It’s not just any old singing either. It’s OPERA!!! Take a peek. . .
I have spent a good deal of time with my fellow pisces friend over the past month or so, between Las Vegas and regular day to day life. In Las Vegas I learned that 2 female pisces are incapable of total and complete relaxation together because the following words with be uttered from one or the other’s mouth repeatedly: “I’m worried that . . . ” OR the even more popular phrase: I feel guilty because”! Between the 2 of us in that little condo of ours, there was more than enough worry and guilt to go around!
Another important lesson that I learned is that when you hang with people that iron obsessively, you look like a total slob! I have always owned and iron, just because I know that I’m supposed to own one. It looks really nice on the closet shelf. Kelly and Pat actually used my iron every day and sometimes even twice a day! In order to appear that we were not homeless people next to them, I was forced to try my hand at ironing. At one point water started pouring out of the thing uncontrollably and soaking Lenny’s new dress shirt. It turns out the circuit tripped and that apparently happens to irons. Is this common knowledge or something that I missed growing up? I guess the iron cries when you lose power or something. I don’t know.
Yesterday, Kelly and I went to a spin class. Although that quiet, sweet woman has a couple of years on me, DON’T let her fool you!! She spun me under the table! Today, as I prepare to go to a wedding, due to the merciless pain in my legs, I am unable to wear heels, so I’ll be going bare foot. I cannot stand up gracefully once sitting and I either need to walk sideways down the stairs or slide on my butt. Can’t wait to do it again. Thanks, Kel!!! :)
Laughing at myself is something I am not afraid to do. Sharing my stupidity is not beyond me either. That being said, I keep forgetting to share this moment with you all and since I am still laughing, I’ll share it now.
Last week, or maybe it was the week before – I’m not sure; it all runs together – I called the doctor to schedule an appointment for a cough that just wouldn’t go away. I got the office voicemail and began to leave my message. I left my name, the reason for my call and then my phone number. Wait. . . what’s my phone number? I began, “570 . . . pause . . . 6 . . . pause . . . ” I quickly fumbled with my cell phone to try to find my own number in the address book. It was taking way too long! I continued, “619 – XXXX” and hung up the phone.
After hanging up I found my number in my address book. 619? What the heck was I thinking? That’s not right! So now what do I do? I need them to call me back so I can schedule that appointment and I don’t want them to call the wrong number and find out that I am a complete idiot. SOOOO, are you ready for this? I called back right away, got the voicemail, and said that I just realized I needed to go out for awhile and that they should call me on my cell phone instead!!!! Phew, that was a close one! You never want the doctor to know you’re losing it! :)
Baseball season is by far my favorite time of year. I’m not talking about the major leagues either. I love watching Arianna play on her coach pitch team. (Yes, that means that the coach pitches the balls.) It is sports mixed with comedy hour for me. In the beginning of the game the kids were all into it, but by the 4th inning, Arianna didn’t even have her glove on out in the field anymore. It seems the dirt was more intriguing than the game.
Another thing I enjoy is listening to the coach talk to himself during the game. I just think he’s just down right funny. Last night when our team was in the field, a ball was hit and 3 of our kids ran to get it. Two of them fell on each other, the third rolled around on the ground for awhile and Arianna, well, she was playing with a daisy and twirling around in circles. The coach turned around, rubs his head and said to himself, “Geez, it’s like watching Bumble Bee Baseball out there!”
I couldn’t have put it better myself and appreciated the comment that kept me laughing all night!
As most of you know, my parents watched Arianna for us, while Lenny and I enjoyed some time with friends in Vegas for our anniversaries. Although I don’t have time to write about our trip today, since I have work to catch up on, I thought I would share my father’s thoughts on his peaceful night at my lovely home.
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HI JEN
Well as you can see we returned your daughter pretty much the way you left her.
Although we did NOT quite succeed in killing the cat
We could have done a better job on your little RAT as he decided to do his Gymnastics
at two in the morning ———–round and round on his little wheel — ENDLESSLY the little rodent wouldn’t quit that little %$^*ing sh*t.
He finally wound up in the computer room ——-Thank GOD it was far enough away— that LITTLE ——–!!!!
Little miss kitty decided to do a dance on my chest at Five in the morning!
Friendly duo those critters are!!!
Now let me get some sleep and I’ll call you in the morning!!
Your loving pappy DAD
PS– Glad your back safe and sound
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FYI, his reference to killing the cat does not refer to the sad demise of Pepper, but rather to the fact that he allowed Fettucini to be locked in the basement without food, water or a litter box for 3 days! Seems I don’t feel so bad about his sleepless night after all!!! :)
After months and months of agony, my poor Pepper was put down last night. I would love to tell you that I was strong and rock solid in the waiting room at the Vet, or that I didn’t have snot running down my face and into my mouth as she lay motionless on the table, or that I hardened up in front of Arianna and gave her words of logic and support. I didn’t. I actually stood alone in the Vet’s office shaking uncontrollably and unable to sign my name on the paper for quite awhile. I didn’t cry quietly and beautifully like you see in the movies. My face was red and blotchy, my cries and gasps for air loud and my hands full of soaked tissues.
Now let us pay tribute to Pepper. She was abandoned as a kitten and lived alone under a shed behind Lenny’s family’s store. After much nagging and begging, Lenny caught the kitten one day and brought her home. It became evident early on that Pepper was a special needs kitty and that she had many issues. She didn’t like to be held, or cuddled or pet for too long. She didn’t like noise, or strangers and was mortified by the birth of Arianna. She liked quiet solitude, watching hamsters and squirrels, and she liked me. Oh and she like Lenny to pet her with his foot. Eventually she accepted Arianna too! It took her years to get up the courage to step out onto the deck to lay in the sun. As frightened as Pepper made everyone, she was really the scared one.
Most children were scared of her growl and her ever so welcoming hiss. People called her the halloween cat, evil, crazy and the people at the Vet’s office called her bi-polar (hence the name of my blog. See my play on words? I’m so clever, right?) and schizophrenic. Through my tears yesterday I did have to smile inside when I heard them saying that, because it was so true. All of that was what made Pepper our cat though – and for all that we loved her. She will be missed greatly.
As most of you know, music is a huge part of my daily life. I can actually set or change my mood just by the music I listen to. I love all kinds of music – from country to classical, to opera to rock and pop to hard rock.
This song represents my childhood and is performed by a fabulous country artist with lots of great songs, Mark Wills.
