Thursday, April 10, 2014

First World Problems

Today, I drove 3 hours to just north of Santa Barbara to take 'before' photos of an apartment building for some of my clients. Three hours there, half hour for photos, and three hours back. It wasn't a hard day by any means but it was a lot of driving. At least I got to drive down the beach through Santa Barbara. I broke it up a little bit by stopping by the outlet stores on the way back to look for some sensible shoes. Yes, I've hit the age where sensible shoes are necessary.

After trying on countless shoes, I found nothing I liked. So, I was a little bummed. Mama needs some good shoes. Then I got home too late to get any reasonable parking. Add the 6 hours of driving to countless trips around the neighborhood looking for parking and not finding any shoes...and it's enough to break a girl!

Parking is always a problem around here. The later you get here, the worse it is. Mario is constantly parking a few blocks away. This is great for exercise, but after working a full day, it sucks. Tonight I drove around the neighborhood three times. Fourth time around, I spotted a prime spot right across the street from our apartment. I shot across the street, pulled into the drive and am backing into the spot...when some jackass pulls in the spot and blocks me! I was sitting there in shock.

I'm still in reverse backing up and he shimmy's in, gets out and mimes "sorry, no more space for you". Total jerk. I gave him a nice hand gesture and looped around the block for a fifth time. Parked my car. Ran inside our apartment and proceeded to write this guy a note.

I told him "way to be a gentleman and steal my spot! I think we all know how awful the parking is and your move was complete crap. Get some manners because, you sir, are a jerk!" I kept it mostly nice because I didn't want this guy trashing my car. Then I put the note on his windshield and  Mario and I went out to dinner.

The little date did make me feel better. We had a nice time, good food, and then came home...to my same note left on our doorstep. What does this mean! There was no response on it. He just gave it back. Is this a "I know where you live" or "I choose to ignore you"? The least he could have done was say sorry or at the very least tell me to piss off...but no, the shithead just returned my note. My head exploded.

Monday, February 24, 2014

Suckers

It happened again...another foster pet came into our house and she isn't leaving. I blame Mario. Despite the fact that I did talk Mario into this, the minute he met her, he was in love.

A few weeks back Precious Paws, the rescue group that we have gotten all our pets through, posted that one of their rescuers was leaving state and needed to place this puppy. I had shown the photo of her to Mario a few times and could tell he wasn't even really taking me serious. We discussed it a few times, but we really didn't want to disrupt the house. Tula and the cats are happy. I'd hate for the house to get to chaotic or us to have fighting animals on our hands.

We decided to just sit on the idea for a bit, but I had this little guilt inside. Georgyne from Precious Paws must have sensed that guilt, because in came her email asking us to foster her. She offered us a foster to adopt situation. That would allow us to try the situation out and make sure everyone was happy. That really solved the problem of what we would do if it was a bad situation.

The next day Georgyne showed up with this tiny, skin and bones puppy with huge ears! The little girl was 8 months old and only 4 lbs 8 oz. She was seriously underweight. Her spine and hip bones were showing. I was actually pretty pissed that she was so malnutritioned considering she had been at someone's house for the last month.

How can you resist that look!

However, I knew that Mario would see her underweight as a challenge. He loves fattening up our animals. Tula was tiny when we got her also, and now she's gained the pound or two she needed and has nice skin and coat. I need to get a scale, but we can tell Belle has already put on weight. You can't see her hip bones or spine any more. She still needs a bit more weight, but I think she'll put that on in the next few months as she matures a bit. Her coat is already softer and shinier and she has so much more energy.

She's still a puppy and needs her naps

The best thing to come from this is how happy Belle and Tula are together. I really had no idea how lonely Tula was until this little pup came into our home. I've just never seen Tula so happy. They play and wrestle together, nap together, run around, and eat together. Even if Mario and I decided we really didn't want to keep her, we couldn't get rid of her, Tula would be devastated. However, there was never a chance we wouldn't keep her, Mario's pretty smitten also.


The other thing we've noticed about Belle is that's she's a bit of a clepto. She collects all the cat and dog toys in the house and puts them in her bed. As you can see in the video below, she dared to take Penny's favorite toy. The next thing I caught her stealing was just a bit more embarrassing. 






I swear those are not enormous underwear...she is just the tiniest dog you've ever seen! We now have a house full of tiny dogs and enormous cats. I'm not sure how this happened. We now have four animals from Precious Paws. Apparently we have no will power when it comes to saying no to fosters. So, about a week after we got Belle, I sent Georgyne a text telling her "Thankfully you don't adopt out children, knowing our will power, we'd have 10 kids by now!" She laughed. That's when it occurred to me that might be the reason Mario is a bit skeptical about fostering children. He's knows I can't say no...and he obviously can't either!

Tuesday, February 04, 2014

Another Year Goes By

I wrote this post last December. With the sudden loss of my uncle in a car accident this morning...I decided to go ahead and post it. You just never know when you will lose a loved one.

Yesterday marked 10 years since my father passed away. It feels like it's been forever and yet it feels like it just happened yesterday. Each year that we roll through November getting closer and closer to December 1, I wonder how I'm going to handle remembering the day that my father died...because every year it's different and I never know how I'll feel until I'm there.

I really don't like trying to explain to someone who hasn't lost a parent, how it feels. Because no matter what I say, that person will absolutely never know that loss until it happens...and it's something that I would never wish on anyone. I dread that for people.

A loved one's death is certainly not just one day a year. It's every day. However, certain days are definitely harder. Funny thing is, each year those dates and the reason for them change. Most years it's not Dec 1 that gets me. It's not even necessarily a holiday or a birthday that will make me feel that loss. It's those mundane days when I see someone joking with their father and feel completely jealous that they get to have those moments. Sometimes, it's trying to be that adult that I think he would want me to be or be the photographer and business owner that he would be proud of. Most of the time, it's because I can't just call him and tell him something funny that happened. It's amazing how after years of him being gone, I still reach for the phone to call him.

November has been rough for me this year. It's amazing how my favorite time of year can also be my toughest part of the year. I suppose part of it is not being with my family for the holidays this year. Part of it is reconciling that it's one more year that we haven't gotten pregnant or aren't in the position to adopt. Part of it is seeing Mario's mother's health falter. Then there are the everyday ups and downs. Add that all together and it becomes harder to deal with.

However, I think what is effecting me the most this year, is seeing people purposely sabotaging or abusing a relationship with a parent. I see multiple relationships that fit into this. And I want to just scream! What would you do it they were gone tomorrow? Can you live the rest of your life with how you spoke to them or treated them? My father was only 60 when he died. I fell into that trap of thinking he'd be around to see me marry or have children or even tell him all those things that I thought, but was afraid to say. While I can say that my relationship with him was great, I feel like we were just at the beginning of what it could have been. One the one hand, I loved our relationship but it also makes me feel like I've lost out on so much with him.

I think what was more valuable was the light it shed on the relationship I had with my mother and sister. Dysfunctional. Strained. No communication. I think the one thing my sister, mother, and I took away from my father's death was knowing that life is absolutely uncertain. My father was there one day and gone the next. There was no warning. Because of that we now say those things that need to be said. We now have those conversations that are tough. We end every phone call and conversation with I love you. It's not always been easy, but we know it's honest. We know the pain of not being able to say how we feel. So much anger and hurt from the past has been let go. A lot of it came from miscommunication and misunderstanding. A little communication really changed our relationships into something I had always wanted. I know I'm lucky to have that now and I know there is nothing in my relationship with my mother and sister that I will regret. I hope that more people could understand this. They say you can't appreciate the highs without the lows. I think our relationship is a perfect example of this.

Speaking with my cousin on the phone today brought up that raw pain I felt when my father died. I hate that she has to go through it. I know she is closer with him than most of her family. That loss is so hard and I hated hearing her feel that pain. The worst part is that the pain and loss will never go away, you just learn to live with it. I know you can't change other people, but hopefully you can change how you deal with those people you love. A little more understanding, love, and communication really goes a long way. It just takes one step.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Dead Blogs

There's always a point in my day when I take a break from work and take a look at a few blogs. It seems like every day there are less and less blogs and less and less posts on those blogs. It makes me sad to see all those blogs that I would read every day disappearing. I have a full folder of blogs that are no longer. I call it the Dead Blog folder.

Then I realized I was was one of those blogs! I miss the blogging. I miss coming here to tell you a funny story. I know in part it's because I've been putting so much time and energy into my business. Hey I'd say that's a good reason! However, I blame the other part on facebook. Really. It's far too easy to run over there really quick and post something funny that happened. Well, when I tell all my funnies over there, what the hell do I have to talk about over here?!

So, I've been making a slight exit from facebook. Not a big dramatic I-can't-take-all-this-drama-and-bullshit exit. Just one of those pulling back exits. I love to see what people are up to, but I feel like it's a big time suck. I do appreciate how it does bring us closer to people in ways. People that I haven't been able to get to know in real life, are now in touch with me on a daily basis. I know it's not face to face but it's more than I've been able to have with some of these people in years.

On the other hand, I've been a bit discontent with how I've been spending my spare time. I've been putting a lot of time in with my business and I feel like I need to reward myself with quality spare time. Facebook is not quality time. I'm not reading books like I used to. I'm not spending my time in the garden. I'm not writing on here like I used to. Three things I find very rewarding.

So I've decided not to become one of the dead blogs that I used to love. I have definitely realized I need this outlet. I need to bitch to you! I need to tell you the stupid shit I do! So, I'm rewarding myself by letting myself write again. I already feel better!

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Happy New Year!

For the first time in a very long time, I didn't come into the new year as excited as I usually do. I wanted to. I was ready for the holidays to be over and me to be loving the new year...but I didn't. I had a bad attitude. There wasn't even one specific reason or any real reason. I was just in a bad head space. Which was totally annoying. Of course that bad mood didn't stop my normal New Year purging/organization fest that comes over me every year. I can't even stop that shit.

Luckily I bucked up and put on my big girl panties. I'm finally in my normal new year excited mood that I love. The kitchen is organized. The living room is back to it's normal happy self...it took a real hit between Christmas, my sister visiting, and people over for new years eve and new years day. I had already hit the hall and bedroom closet earlier in December. There are a few little areas to get to, but they are really low on the list. The rest of the house is in a good spot. But the garage is on my radar...

The only thing really left was my New Years Not Resolutions. I don't do resolutions if you remember and this really isn't a resolution so much as continued goals that Mario and I have. One of the big things Mario and I have is to buy a house in about a year. There are good things and hard work attached to that goal.

 First, this means we need to get rid of more debt. We ended last year in a good spot with debt. We had gotten rid of some bills and started focusing on how to start really hitting our student loans. We also have to really hunker down and save the money! So, one of the major projects I gave myself was to go through the last three months of our banking and find out how much money we spend and where. Holy hell! I will not tell how much going out to eat costs! I really had no idea. It was enough of a shock that I made two weeks work of crock pot meals that are now sitting in my freezer...no joking.

I'm excited about the second part..starting a family. One of the things that I don't think I've ever mentioned on here is my inability to get pregnant. Not that it's a secret. I just haven't really gone into it. I am 37 years old and want to be a mother. Mario wants to be a father.  One of our major problems with fertility treatment and private adoption of a baby is money. We don't have that kind of money. We can't see putting ourselves into that much more debt, when there are children in Los Angeles county that need parents. Part of us buying a house means that we can adopt. Really we need a second bedroom. I know that's a very simplified way to put it but it's true. We are going to start that classes for adoption and fostering next month. I'm excited and scared...but far more excited! We'll see what happens. Of course, we'll still keep trying to get pregnant!








Friday, November 15, 2013

Kids are Strange

If you ever felt like you were a wierd kid, read this blog 

http://www.insanemombrain.com/2013/11/childhood-confessions-aka-my-readers-are-freaks.html

I feel completely normal now! Some of the confessions had me cracking up and others made me gag a little.

My confessions

1) When I was young and was sent take a shower, I would go through my mom's stuff in the bathroom and make commercials in the mirror. I was QVC before there was a QVC. I'm sure my "showers" were over an hour long.

2) I used to sleep with my arms under my pillow because I didn't want bats to bite my arms. I also used to run and jump up on my bed, so the the witch under my bed couldn't grab my feet.

3) Once when my grandparents were staying with us for the weekend, I stole one of their tooth brushes. It was a cool red tooth brush with one of those rubber spikes at the end. We only got plain tooth brushes and this red beauty was irresistible. 

4) For a period of time I would walk past the bathroom next to my bedroom to use my parent's bathroom. This must have gone on for months. Apparently, their bathroom was better.

5) I used to make my sister step in dog poop. We had big dogs. I would cover their "pile" in grass and tell my sister to step on the grass pile. She'd believe me and step in the poop and get upset. At some point she finally caught on. So I would cover the poop with grass and put a flower on top...she fell for it again. Man, I was a jerk!

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Conditioner for Sale!

Can we talk about my ongoing inability to buy shampoo. Not for lack of trying. I have gone to the store twice in the last week to buy shampoo. Only when I was applying the newly purchased shampoo to my head, did I notice that I had in fact bought conditioner. Twice.

This isn't the first time this has happened. About a year ago, a very similar chain of events happened. Which in turn, led to me trying the "no poo" hair washing...you stop using using sham"poo" to clean your hair. Instead you use vinegar or conditioner...it's supposed to be better for your hair and scalp...all those chemicals don't strip your hair...your hair produces less oil...it's amazing...blah blah blah. I like the idea. I really do. However, I was forced into this no poo hair washing due to my inability to properly tell the difference between the word "shampoo" and "conditioner".

After last year's shampoo/conditioner debacle, I have been very careful to read the damn label. While the no poo hair thing was fine for a while, I was actually pretty happy to get back to my chemically shampoo. So when I ran out of shampoo last week, I headed to the store. I carefully read the labels. I swear. All I can figure, is that I pulled out a shampoo bottle, it looked funky, so I pulled the bottle from behind it...which should have been another bottle of shampoo, but ended up being conditioner because some jerk lined them up wrong! Of course, I didn't notice until I was trying to suds up my hair. Conditioner = no suds. Damn.

I informed Mario that we were out of shampoo and to just use the conditioner like shampoo...I'd pick some shampoo up in a day or two. Despite the fact that Mario has long hair, he's not a conditioner user. That night when I asked him how the conditioner worked for him, his response was "Babe, that conditioner is amazing! My hair has been dead sexy all day! Even Perry told me I was glowing today!" I laughed and then realized that he was serious. He went on to tell me how there were no knots in his hair and it was so smooth and again told me how dead sexy it was. The man kills me. (The thing is, Perry would actually tell Mario he was glowing. A few weeks ago he walked by Mario and his long hair at work and said "Hey Flabio...You're beautiful!" They have a special relationship.)

Regardless, of how happy Mario is with his dead sexy hair, I decided I'd pick up some shampoo anyway. I walked into the store chanting "shampoo, shampoo, shampoo!" over and over. I went straight to the isle, read all the labels, and picked up a bottle of shampoo. Yes! I did it! I finally had some damn shampoo! I got home and decided to transfer this shampoo to the old shampoo bottle because it has a pump. It took about half a bottle to realize that this shampoo looked a lot like conditioner! I screamed "NOOOOOO!!!! God damn it! I did it again!!!"

Now, not only do I have a huge half bottle of conditioner left over from before, I now had a huge full bottle bought last week, and a shampoo bottle half-full of conditioner from this week! I refuse to go back to the store. I give up. I have now forced myself back into the no poo hair thing again! I have a form of shampoo/conditioner dyslexia...it's the only way to explain this!


You can see that I just gave up even putting the lid back on once I realized that I was putting conditioner into the shampoo bottle. Seriously that is a shit load of conditioner to get through!

Friday, September 06, 2013

Arrangements

Last night, I dreamt I was back in school. I was with people from high school...however, the teachers were from college. I was pretty excited to be there actually. I loved seeing everyone again and being back in a creative environment.

First day of class was our first project. However, this wasn't just any first project. This project was to be the biggest part of our grade for the entire year and also determined if we belong in this school at all. This was a make or break project.

The project...was balloon arrangements. Yes like flower arranging...but with balloons. They were grading on use of balloons and how creative we were with the ribbon and bows that hang from the balloons. Yeah. I had five balloons at different heights...very traditional. Then I got creative with the ribbons. There were far more ribbons than balloons. Some were curled, some were loose waves, some were straight...that shit was creative! I knew I was good!

Until the next morning at turn in time...most of my balloons had popped. How would I ever be accepted into this school without a bitchin' balloon arrangement! I was upset. Who wouldn't be! But I took charge and problem solved! Asked the teacher for more balloons and helium and was good. But it turned out half the class was having the same problem. I wasn't the only person with the issue, but now they were all coming to me to help.

Ok as I write this, I can totally see the after school special my brain was trying to get me to see. Don't be afraid to ask for more time or help, don't let a small problem seem bigger than it really is, you're not the only person with problems, even your peers have them, just because everyone seems to together on the outside doesn't mean they don't have popped balloons too, blah blah blah. I get it.

It's funny this dream has stuck with me all day. I don't even remember what the finished project was...it kind of just faded away. However, I keep picturing my original balloon arrangement with some of the balloons popped and mostly noticing the balloons that didn't pop and how creative I was with those damn ribbons! Oh god, I'm totally a glass half full person! barf!

The real question is...Why a balloon arrangements?! Where the hell did my brain come up with that! Maybe I have a new calling?

Wednesday, June 05, 2013

Lots of Questions

In the Dr's office today three guys came in together. One guy was called to the back. He came back out after five or so minutes and yelled to his friends from across the room "Guys! I'm all clear!" There was lots of cheering and high fives between the three. Judging by the looks on the faces of the rest of us in the waiting room, I think we were all trying to determine what he was clear of...Std? Clear to travel? What was it?! I think if you are going to be that vocal in a quiet waiting room...I think you should share the good news with all of us!


Monday, April 29, 2013

The Mouth

Today I went to the bank to pick up some quarters. It always seems a little too quiet in banks. A woman got into line and started talking to the girl behind me about her tennis shoes for a minute. Then it got quiet again as the next person stepped up to the next open teller. Then the next man in line walked up to another teller, he asked for $1,000 in singles. We all looked at each other.

The man behind the two ladies asked "$1,000 in ones?" The ladies looked at each other and shrugged. One of the ladies said "My that's a lot of ones!" Then my mouth opened and I heard myself say, "Sounds like we're going to a strip club!" Everyone in line giggled. Then we all went back to the quiet.

That's when I really started hoping I didn't say it too loud...cause if I can't be classy, at least I be quiet enough so the whole bank doesn't think this guy is going to a strip club! I didn't want to shame the guy, I mean maybe he was just getting money for his store...nah he was totally going to a strip club! That makes me giggle more!