lucky

 ain't i lucky

to have seen what these eyes have seen

to have heard what these ears have heard

ain't i lucky

to feel such pain

and 

to feel more joy to erase the pain in this heart

ain't i lucky 

to be loved 

to have given love

to have held

felt

to have known the love this soul has known

ain't i lucky

to have kissed

hugged

missed

those i have loved the most

ain't i lucky

these arms 

have held those ones who have held me close

ain't i lucky

friends who are family

and family who have stayed through thick and thin

ain't i lucky 

to have and know someone such as you

Long Beach, LI, I love you, my summer home. I shall soon see you whole again. 

it's christmas up in this place.

well, RB got rid of that damn box. he did it in 10 minutes. it's shame that i had to wait 9+ months for it to be removed but it is what it is. the tree went up last sunday, and the decorations went up today with me taking a spill off the step stool coming precariously close to smashing my face on the coffee table. with that being said, it's christmas up in this place. now, to sit and relax and enjoy my lights!

"simply, having, a wonderful christmas time."

(i know that these pictures show presents, but they are pictures from 2010, and it looks almost identical to this years, sans presents and add 3 more Yankee Christmas Village houses)

the moocher gym member

for years i have been going to my parents house to use their treadmill, weights and pilates machines. i enjoy my free gym and the comforts of home. i not only get to workout but also spend some QT with one or both of my parents. mom often says things to me such as, "don't you have a treadmill in your building?" and "i'm going to start charging you for the water and electricity." i also, sometimes, bring laundry, so it totally is a multi-serving hot spot. recently, their hot water heater/boiler died, and i didn't go there for a few days. the day it broke i was however, there. it was the coldest shower i had ever taken. i could have gone home, but i had a hot date with Amy and i smelled WICKED bad! anyway, when the boiler/hot water heater was up and running, i received the following email from my mom: (which is totally one of the best emails that i have ever received and one of the many reasons i adore my mom),

Dear Member (a.k.a. Lil' Girl),

We are excited to report our gym will re-open to all members tomorrow, November 26th!!  

We now have heat and hot water at the Moocher Gym.  

Our amenities include: Hot showers, towels, shampoo, soap, moisturizers, hair dryer and flat iron.  Our treadmill and pilates equipment are available, whenever you show up.  

Your membership includes the expertise of a four-time Ironman competitor with close to 40 years of exercise experience, a Doctor of Physical Therapy to address any questions you may have regarding post-workout recovery and/or injuries.  In addition, to allow you to focus fully on your workout and feel safe, we provide canine security, who also provides a meet and greet upon your arrival.   

In addition, as a special perk for you, a Mother and Father's life-time devotion to all your needs.

To show our appreciation of your patience during our closing and your loyalty, we have extended your membership (if that were possible) to a lifetime membership.

Looking foward to seeing you soon.  

Management (a.k.a. Mommy and Daddy)

Happy Anniversaries!

how did i miss my October 25th anniversary?! Happy Anniversary Funny Girl, and Cheers to many years of writing nonsense on the Internet more! originally i didn't know what to expect from writing a blog, and i didn't think i cared to much. i was in such a weird place when i started this, and thought maybe if i wrote about the good, the bad, the frustrating, i'd feel better. i'm not sure if that is what actually happened, but nevertheless, happy anniversary to me and my bullshit.

now for an actual and happy anniversary... a tranplanniversary!! HAPPY FIRST ANNIVERSARY ON YOUR TRANSPLANT AMY! I know i have mentioned Amy before and told you a short story about our falling out and reconnection. recently we have been able to talk more in depth on the months leading up to her double lung transplant, and it makes me cry, because my friend was in fact dying for real. we talk about i wish i was there for her and with her during those tough months, and we come to terms with how our lives needed to work out together.

i know we are both forever friends, and i again, could never thank that glorious young woman that save her life, as well as 8 others this time last year. i'm always reminded when i talk about Amy, that this isn't my first encounter with a life saving transplant. in 2000, my uncle received a life saving liver transplant, and i remember how hard it was leading up to that operation. i was watching a strong man disintegrate in front of my very eyes. it has been 12 years, this February, and again i am forever grateful to that young woman who saved so many other people. for the people who lost their loved ones may peace be found in the thought that their family members saved so many other lives, we are forever grateful for saving the ones we love.

i know it's only December 9th but have a happy holiday season, a blessed Christmas and a happy, healthy and wealthy new year! cheers to 2013!!

box of cards

*please note, i wrote the following in the most disdainful tone, full of disgust*

RB's old college roommate gave him this huge Macy's box anywhere between 9 and 12 months ago. he told RB that if anything in the box had any value, he can keep it. fabulous. all RB had to do was go through this box. this box has been in my living room/hallway/ kitchen anywhere between 9 and 12 months. i have asked RB anywhere between 3 and 9 months to please go through this box. if you didn't already guess, this box, is still in my living room/hallway/ kitchen. i loath this box. i despise this box. i want to drive to the old roommates house and punch him in the nuts as a thank you for dropping his trash and collectors items in my tiny little apt.

every morning i look at this box and i am tempted to toss it in the recycling bin. every evening i am tempted to remind RB to go through the box and get rid of this fucking, god-forsaken box. i don't. i don't because if i did, that might translate to RB that if he waits long enough, i'll just take care of it. i'm not and i won't. 

RB loves Christmas and Christmas decorations. every year he wants to leave the decorations up throughout the year, because he loves it so much. RB offers to help decorate but i am so OCD that although i have tried to allow him to assist, he does it "wrong". he puts all the ornaments in one spot of the tree, he puts all the same colors in one area of the tree, and he wants to put way too many lights on the tree. have i mentioned RB was raised Jewish!? it makes me sad to put up a fake tree and not a real one that smells like Christmas to me. also, i can't stand the set-up. i hate the take down, and i hate the fact that RB refuses to pay attention while i am decorating so that in future years he could help me. (secretly, i think it's better that he not pay attention, it works out better in the end, i get left alone). but, i do love the way the decorations look. 

on November 27th i decided to use this love for a blessed christian holiday to my advantage. this wretched box sits in the one free spot of our living room/hallway/kitchen where i leave my Christmas decorations box. (the rest of the year they find a home in my old bedroom in my parents house). i proposed an ultimatum. 

me: "RB, can you please go through this box?"

RB: <usual answer, usual attitude> "sure babe, this weekend."

me: "RB, if you don't get rid of this box i can't decorate, because this is the spot for the decorations box."

RB: <horrified look on his face> "of course babe! this weekend, definitely."

he knows me well enough to know that if that box is still there the week before Christmas, i will not be decorating anything. i have to admit honestly, that i hope he doesn't go through the box, save me the trouble of decorating even though i do like the way the house looks with all the decorations up. 

it's december 5th, box, still where it has been for almost a year. what's the over under of him getting rid of it? 

the box, by the way, is filled with baseball cards. something RB loves and knows tons about. box, still there. ask me in a week where it is. we'll see what happens this weekend. 

do you ever get the feeling no one likes you?

question: is it just my own insecurities that come through or does it happen for others, do you ever get the feeling no one likes you? i mean, how could it possibly be that not one person you associate with in fact likes you? i mean personally, i don't care who likes me and who doesn't, this isn't a high school blog entry discussing how bad i feel about myself because no one likes me. honestly, i don't give a fuck that you don't like me. this is strictly about people who say one thing and act another way.

i know for a fact and because of my own experiences that there is no one person that i like every single day, and i'm no exemption. i sometimes don't like me either, but that's just day-to-day kinda liking and disliking. 

i suppose an example might help. i work with some people that say they don't like other people but yet hang out with them during work on a regular basis. now, does this mean they don't like them, don't like me, or just don't like being alone? (man, i really wish i could read people's minds, my life would be so much easier). 

i get invited to things, plenty of social activities, but i wonder am i being invited because of who i associate with or because i am wanted? if it's the first, then by all means, PLEASE save me and you the trouble and do not extend an invitation. 

i often feel used by a few "friends", as though i am only go for when they don't have a ride, or anyone else to hang out with. that kinda shit i don't like. just make a decision, because most of the time i can almost immediately decide what level of friend you are to me. 

• level 1 friend: divulging everything, have most likely shared a bed at some point, i have cried a lot with you, you have met my family, considered family, there through thick and thin. 
• level 2 friend: trusted with a lot of information, have not yet shared a bed/sleeping space because the circumstances have never called for it, however, overnights might have occurred, met the family in 1-2 occasions, can call on this friend for a good time, or when in dire straits.  
• level 3: friendly, hang out on occasion or often, everything is superficial in conversation, nothing to terribly deep, but you can call on this friend in dire straits. 
• level 4: friendly, idle chit-chat, smiles, hello's, perhaps co-workers, or friends of friends. i do not have your number or address. 
• level 5: acquaintances. 
• level 6: i barely remember your name. i would say- we are not friends at all. 

i'm sure i could give more in depth description of each level but you get the idea. so the friend thing is directly related to the liking and not liking thing. if i don't like you, you might be a level 5 or 6 or not on any level at all, i don't pay you any mind really. if you don't like i am hoping that it is the same. if you are a level 3 or higher, i don't think about you liking me vs. not liking me, because it is a basic assumption you do because of the level you are on. that's when it gets tricky. people on these levels act funny, which makes me reevaluate your level and your level of liking me. 

here's the basic thing of all. if we were once friends and now we aren't, i just stop talking to you, or something had to have happened for our friendship to no longer be. if i make an effort, and so do you, then obviously we are friends. if i tell you i don't like you, we aren't friends, figure it out. 

it's the wishy-washy friends i have that piss me off. one week i'm invited to a ton of events, life events, parties, etc, and then another week you barely say hello to me. make a fucking decision and just let me know until then leave me alone. 

do you ever get that feeling that no one likes you? 

thankful thanksgiving

yes, i am thankful for everything i have every day. i mean my alarm in the morning rings & says, "it's a beautiful day and it's great to be alive"; the saying was a camp must have from when i went to camp for a total of 3 weeks over 2 summers. every morning it was mandatory to say it after being woken up by the counselor, otherwise you were told to do at least 50 push-ups, so you bet your sweet ass i said it at 5:45 am.

i hate thanksgiving. the holiday that is. it's dumb. wasteful and seems like a lazy holiday. oh sure, my uncles and cousin-in-law like it; what do they do all day but eat and watch football- well except for *bill, my cousins husband, he helps, but still. this year was particularly aggravating.

every year RB and i split thanksgiving. we go to his aunt's house for a few hours before heading to dinner at my aunt's house. why don't we switch each year--- RB doesn't want to. (not-so-secretly, i'm happy to oblige). the split isn't really an issue and works fine, why we can't just have dinner with our respective families at some point before the holiday is beyond me, but it is what it is. i don't like turkey so i could give a shit about that fucking turkey. i can't stress this enough. "WHAT!? You don't like turkey?!" no, i don't. i don't like gravy, or cranberry sauce either. i am always so grateful that my aunt makes eggplant rollatini and so many vegetables you'd think looking at my plate i were vegetarian, so needless to say having me eat other than my aunts would leave me to starve because on top of all that i am pretty particular on how my vegetables are cooked and presented to me. (this food preference is a whole other blog we can address later).

aside from the food, the traveling to 2 different houses, and the lack of the male assistance, thanksgiving would be fine except in the case of this year. for the first time in my 31 years of life, i spent thanksgiving without my mom and dad. i know, how did I survive?! mom was really sick, which wouldn't be the first time one of us was sick for a holiday, but she was so sick that my dad was afraid to leave her alone in the house and come out for dinner. i had to bring food to my parent's house for my dad to eat as well as pick up an apple pie my mom made the night before for dessert. that was fun.

my dad texts me and says: don't ring the bell. bring your key.

easy-peezy-lemon-squeezy. except for when he bolts the door closed and your key is useless and have to knock on a wrought iron door making the knock reverberate throughout the entire house. dad opens the door seemingly angry for my knocking to which i reply- if you left the door unbolted this wouldn't have happened. dad then shushes me as if i were yelling at a baseball game, and then plops himself in front on the tv, assuming his original position. i must repeat he shushed me, then proceeded to put the tv back on blast! oh dad, you're cute.

i started to make an attempt at going up to my moms bedroom before my dad sent the "you do and your dead" stare while my failed attempt to book it upstairs began at back of my head, that it burned the image into the back of my eyeballs. i refrained thinking dad doesn't got this "taking care of mom" thing covered. little did i remember from my years of living home, or even living with my dad, is this. my dad is great at pretending he's taking care of you. you see, he leaves you alone. you could be dying, choking on your own saliva, lying in your own feces, smashed your head on the toilet after passing out from throwing up so much, he wouldn't have a clue. he puts the tv and assumes you're just resting. he's sweet and means well, but he also can't hear you while he's down stairs, so if you are calling for him for something, there's no way he hears you and since he doesn't want to "disturb you" he won't walk upstairs to check. my poor mom. i finish my errand and head back to my aunt's house.

my grandparents were leaving because it was 6 pm, almost bedtime, and dark. i told her repeatedly, "grandma, when you call to check on mommy, DO NOT CALL THE HOUSE PHONE!" okay, okay, she tells me and even repeats my request. this was important because the relationship my dad has with his mother is an interesting one, and he would totally rip her a new asshole had she disturbed his poor, sick wife, more so than he would have ripped me. sure as shit, the little nana of mine calls the house. man-o-man, her saving grace was she told my dad that she was sorry, she was such a shithead and that i told her NOT to call and she did anyway.

all in all, mom's fine. grandma is annoying and old, dinner was delicious as usual, and we were exhausted. no one waited till my aunt, cousin and i sat down before they started eating in gluttonous fashion, and no one said grace. that's what got me the most. we literally as a family say grace a few times a year, and now you all can't even wait for us to be in the room and say thanks on thanksgiving? stupid thanksgiving.

i think i get so annoyed because it's a holiday that just happens, and no one is truly grateful for anything. they all wonder when they are going to get their next thing or complete the next year. it's all so hurried and rushed.

i know i could have written something short and sweet, and slightly more entertaining about thanksgiving, but that wouldn't be my style.