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!!
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
box of cards
*please note, i wrote the following in the most disdainful tone, full of disgust*
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.
Monday, December 3, 2012
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.
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?
Sunday, December 2, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
the woes of me.
i really wish i was more entertaining than i actually am. i mean, i used to think i was pretty entertaining/amusing but now, i look back at my blogs and think- "what an asshole." i certainly don't write to complain, but sometimes i feel like that is what's happening. i also feel as though i think my stories are hilarious and in reality they aren't. not to mention, that the funniest things to me are simple, and small and i appreciate them all but never seem to get them down on this here blog. the woes of me.
it's sad to me that at 31 i am still looking for some kinda of approval from friends and outsiders that what i am in fact doing amuses them in some way. pathetic.
anyway- a few things have crossed my mind recently to "blog" about but i have yet again either forgotten, or have yet to put them down. needless to say, i'm wicked lazy.
RB and i recently went to get our mortgage in order for our fancy 2 bedroom apartment. we have, what seems like forever, to wait for everything to kinda work out, but i know inevitably it will. about a month ago itold suggested to RB that he call our landlord and plant the seed of living month to month for the beginning of next year and not renewing our yearly lease. my suggestion was ignored, brushed off as though it was silly of me to suggest such a superfluous thing. here we are almost december and our lease is up on the 17th. after mentioning that suggestion again RB tells me, "why didn't you suggest that sooner?" really?! god love him, because sometimes i want to put my fist through his face. i calmly said that i did suggest it about a month or so ago and you, good sir, simply dismissed me.
--- I know what you are all thinking, if i thought it was a good idea, why didn't i just do it myself? well, for one, it's not my job to do those things in our marriage <ha, ha>, two, my job doesn't allow me time to generally make phone calls or randomly send emails throughout the day, especially if it's not on my mind or work to do list, third, when it comes to things like this i usually defer to RB thinking his way is better.---
RB emailed our landlord asking that we live month to month and today we have received a reply email. it states that they no longer do month-to-month leases but we can do 6 months. <insert that sound that goes off when you have lost on a game show or bid to high on the showcase showdown> in reality we would only need (hopefully) 3-4 months. now you ask, why not go for the 6, because money doesn't grow on trees. how am i paying a mortgage, maintenance and rent for 6 months? am i suddenly becoming independently wealthy? because if thats happening, i want to go on plenty of vacations instead.
shrug it off, some might say. move home for a few months! thats a brilliant idea. however, i will be living with my parents (and i will do it happily!!) while , RB would move in with my MIL and either kill her, or himself. he can't live with my parents being that Bene the dog resides there and he is allergic to him. Guess we'll live apart. i'm not going to shy or not admit this, but i couldn't be more excited if that is really what will happen! i mean, sure, i'd miss RB and sleeping with my husband, waking up and being lazy in my own house in my own space with my own husband, however, i really love being home, and love my parents and would just love to be home for the holidays!! (i'm getting giddy just thinking about it).
many friends of mine when i was younger couldn't wait to move out of the families house, get their own space, etc. NOT ME! i was more than content on staying there forever if i could. i'm pretty sure that if RB wasn't allergic to the dog, we might have lived at my parents house for a little while after being married, and now we wouldn't think twice about it for all intensive purposes. alas, that wasn't the case.
i'm concerned now that RB will refuse to move home, and make us pay the 6 months rent, while waiting our new place, but i have to say that i really don't want to. I think it's a complete waste of money and it's silly. of course you could argue that this whole new apt thing could fall through and we would be homeless. that would suck on a whole other level. for now, i'm dreaming about being a young adult again, and dating my husband while living with my parents. it all sounds so magical.
it's sad to me that at 31 i am still looking for some kinda of approval from friends and outsiders that what i am in fact doing amuses them in some way. pathetic.
anyway- a few things have crossed my mind recently to "blog" about but i have yet again either forgotten, or have yet to put them down. needless to say, i'm wicked lazy.
RB and i recently went to get our mortgage in order for our fancy 2 bedroom apartment. we have, what seems like forever, to wait for everything to kinda work out, but i know inevitably it will. about a month ago i
--- I know what you are all thinking, if i thought it was a good idea, why didn't i just do it myself? well, for one, it's not my job to do those things in our marriage <ha, ha>, two, my job doesn't allow me time to generally make phone calls or randomly send emails throughout the day, especially if it's not on my mind or work to do list, third, when it comes to things like this i usually defer to RB thinking his way is better.---
RB emailed our landlord asking that we live month to month and today we have received a reply email. it states that they no longer do month-to-month leases but we can do 6 months. <insert that sound that goes off when you have lost on a game show or bid to high on the showcase showdown> in reality we would only need (hopefully) 3-4 months. now you ask, why not go for the 6, because money doesn't grow on trees. how am i paying a mortgage, maintenance and rent for 6 months? am i suddenly becoming independently wealthy? because if thats happening, i want to go on plenty of vacations instead.
shrug it off, some might say. move home for a few months! thats a brilliant idea. however, i will be living with my parents (and i will do it happily!!) while , RB would move in with my MIL and either kill her, or himself. he can't live with my parents being that Bene the dog resides there and he is allergic to him. Guess we'll live apart. i'm not going to shy or not admit this, but i couldn't be more excited if that is really what will happen! i mean, sure, i'd miss RB and sleeping with my husband, waking up and being lazy in my own house in my own space with my own husband, however, i really love being home, and love my parents and would just love to be home for the holidays!! (i'm getting giddy just thinking about it).
many friends of mine when i was younger couldn't wait to move out of the families house, get their own space, etc. NOT ME! i was more than content on staying there forever if i could. i'm pretty sure that if RB wasn't allergic to the dog, we might have lived at my parents house for a little while after being married, and now we wouldn't think twice about it for all intensive purposes. alas, that wasn't the case.
i'm concerned now that RB will refuse to move home, and make us pay the 6 months rent, while waiting our new place, but i have to say that i really don't want to. I think it's a complete waste of money and it's silly. of course you could argue that this whole new apt thing could fall through and we would be homeless. that would suck on a whole other level. for now, i'm dreaming about being a young adult again, and dating my husband while living with my parents. it all sounds so magical.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
i only feel a little bad...
they say once you get one tattoo, you never really stop. i believe this holds true for people who really put thought into their artwork and the meaning behind it.
august came just before starting sophomore year and again after thinking long and hard, i decided on my second and "final" piece of ink. when i was 13, my dad, my forever valentine, gave me a stuffed frog. it also commemorated the fact that i survived my first year away from home and completing that first year of college. so, yup, that's what i got. a frog.
i went a while before getting the itch again. after graduating in 4 years, surprising all of my family who assumed i would have transferred and moved home due to the crushing home sickness i felt after the first year, and getting a job plus getting into grad school, i put some more thought into what would be my next and "last" tattoo. i got a beautifully done horseshoe for luck in the next step of my adult life.
years continued to fly by, and the itch grew stronger and stronger. i had thought of 2 more tattoos to get and decided that once i got those i would be officially done. while all this thinking was happening, life was going by, and big things, little moments, everything was happening. my parents are not fans of tattoos, and they knew i had at least one and mom had asked if that could be it. i told her it would be. of course that was before the horseshoe- oops! oh well. anyway, my 4th tattoo actually was a cover-up. i covered up my first tattoo ever. after 11 years of gaining weight, losing weight, and working out, that original symbol wasn't looking good, not at all. it looked nothing like it used to and to be perfectly honest it never really looked good, it wasn't done very well. the cover-up i used is/was an elephant. my grandma loved elephants and i had thought long and hard of what to get, so that was it. an elephant silhouette. a cover-up. almost done.
 |
| can't even tell where the original one is. |
i had been through a lot at this point and again decided that a hummingbird would come next. i had an artist friend of mine draw it out and brought it to an amazing tattoo artist who was recommended by another friend. of course while finalizing the plan for the hummingbird, it hits me. another tattoo idea. fine, fine i tell myself, it'll be small. i asked my mom for hand written letters by my grandmother, and she asks what for. i tell her i want to get a small tattoo of the word "faith" in grandma's handwriting. as my mom is telling me how stupid i am to get another tattoo, she is also looking for the letters. thanks mom. you make me feel only a little bad about doing it. i chose faith because my mom constantly reminds me to have faith regardless of what i am doing and what is happening around me. to have faith that "it" will all work out and be the way it was meant to be, to have faith in myself and my abilities as well as my ability to choose right from wrong and lastly, to know that someone out there is helping me out when i need it. my amazing artist did the best she could with the letters. she was able to recreate every letter to a "t" except for the lower case "f" we fixed that together from my memory. i love this tattoo and it is beautifully done. it took about a minute and a half to get done and felt like a tickle.
a few months after the "faith" was completed, i went back to have the hummingbird completed. i had to find an alternate placement for her. i forgot to mention earlier that all the previous tattoos, (except "faith"), are on my lower back, hidden from public view on a daily/regular basis. i wanted the hummingbird larger, but again, not in public view. i decided on my ribs. it only hurt a little and took about an hour. my amazing artist doesn't do color, but liked me and my ideas so much, she agreed to add just a little bit of color. with RB's help, some awesome details were put in.
that's it. i'm done! i don't regret any of my tattoos, not even the first one. i do however, feel a little bad that i "defaced" my body, as my mom would say. i feel a little bad because growing up all i heard from my mom was how hard she worked on creating me, keeping me healthy, and how she didn't drink coffee for 9 months. she would tell me that she felt guilty that i got my dad's genetics for eyesight because we both wore glasses, or that she didn't work hard enough on my self-esteem because she wasn't positive enough about her own body image in front me as a young impressionable girl. so, yeah, i felt kinda bad that i voluntarily "defaced" and "ruined" her hard work.
that guilt lasted about a year...
mom: "you think i don't know that you have a bunch of tattoos?"
me: "i never said that. i just don't feel the need to announce or have them in public view."
mom: "well, i know. there's no point in thinking otherwise."
me: "i don't think i'm done. i think i'm going to get daddy's handwriting, you know from a card, of 'love daddy' tattooed somewhere, maybe my hip or something."
mom: <gasp> "daddy's handwriting is so ugly. i can't believe you, you have all these tattoos and you don't even think about getting 'lil' girl'!?"
my mom has been calling me, and writing notes to me addressing them as "lil' girl" for as long as i can remember, so it would make sense that she would suggest it. oh wait a minute, NO IT DOESN'T! my mom is now suggesting ink ideas?!
next step. get it done. and i did. i don't know if she's seen it yet. dad has. he has no comment other than "what's that?" to which i respond, "what's, what?" all in all, i only feel a little bad that i have "defaced" her hard work 7 times. i just wonder where my next one will be.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
when you're fortunate and you know it clap your hands.
it has taken me a long time to become more grateful for the things i have, and even as i write this i am realizing that there are certainly times that i don't act as grateful as i should. i think this realization comes with age, and the lack of acting as though i am grateful at times is apart of being human.
when RB got sick the first time, i kept asking "why?", "why me? why us? why now?" after he got sick for the second time, and we went through everything we went through, i started becoming a more grateful, happier, thankful, 'it happens for a reason', 'it'll work out', kinda person, silver-linings and shit. even the negative people in or life have helped to teach me to be more grateful for what i have and what i have been through, because i know things aren't as bad as they all perceive them to be. it could and has always be worse.
last weekend i sat in hour and a half traffic to drive 4.5 miles. i almost peed myself- which wouldn't be the first time- in my new car, while sitting in this traffic. i was praying that i would make it home to use the bathroom. luckily, i did. i mention all this because on monday, NYC and the east coast was hit with hurricane Sandy. she destroyed neighborhoods, shore lines, some of my favorite places. i wish my vocabulary was larger so that i could possibly explain to you what when on here from sunday to tuesday. it's totally one of those things that you need to experience for yourself to understand and truly comprehend.
i've been home since monday, waiting for schools to reopen, the subways to be de-flooded and cleaned up, and electricity to be fixed. some friends lost everything, some people i know lost friends. the photo's of what happened here are pretty incredible and so surreal. my family, are safe and sound. i mean, my cousins both lost electricity, but otherwise everyone, safe and sound. completely lucky. absolutely fortunate.
it's like a war zone in some areas. nothing is normal. nothing. trees down, super markets struggling to be filled again, lights out, roads closed, people homeless, the list goes on. the latest development is the lack of gasoline. people are rioting, and waiting on gas lines, similar to how my parents described the 70's. i believe everything will be fine, and eventually everything will go back to being the status quo, just not the same.
after all of this, i find that people are still complaining, about having to go to work, about the weather, about whatever they normally complain about. it's frustrating to me after everything that has happened and continues to happen that people can still feel ungrateful for anything.
if the worst thing that happens to me this week is that i almost peed myself in my new car while sitting in traffic for an hour and a half, and only having to go to work one day this week, i'm pretty sure i am one of the lucky ones. in addition, i was surprised when some friends extended their concern and have shown more care than anticipated towards me, my family and my city. i couldn't be more grateful.
i'm definitely fortunate, and i know it, so i'm clapping my hands and feet.
when RB got sick the first time, i kept asking "why?", "why me? why us? why now?" after he got sick for the second time, and we went through everything we went through, i started becoming a more grateful, happier, thankful, 'it happens for a reason', 'it'll work out', kinda person, silver-linings and shit. even the negative people in or life have helped to teach me to be more grateful for what i have and what i have been through, because i know things aren't as bad as they all perceive them to be. it could and has always be worse.
last weekend i sat in hour and a half traffic to drive 4.5 miles. i almost peed myself- which wouldn't be the first time- in my new car, while sitting in this traffic. i was praying that i would make it home to use the bathroom. luckily, i did. i mention all this because on monday, NYC and the east coast was hit with hurricane Sandy. she destroyed neighborhoods, shore lines, some of my favorite places. i wish my vocabulary was larger so that i could possibly explain to you what when on here from sunday to tuesday. it's totally one of those things that you need to experience for yourself to understand and truly comprehend.
i've been home since monday, waiting for schools to reopen, the subways to be de-flooded and cleaned up, and electricity to be fixed. some friends lost everything, some people i know lost friends. the photo's of what happened here are pretty incredible and so surreal. my family, are safe and sound. i mean, my cousins both lost electricity, but otherwise everyone, safe and sound. completely lucky. absolutely fortunate.
it's like a war zone in some areas. nothing is normal. nothing. trees down, super markets struggling to be filled again, lights out, roads closed, people homeless, the list goes on. the latest development is the lack of gasoline. people are rioting, and waiting on gas lines, similar to how my parents described the 70's. i believe everything will be fine, and eventually everything will go back to being the status quo, just not the same.
after all of this, i find that people are still complaining, about having to go to work, about the weather, about whatever they normally complain about. it's frustrating to me after everything that has happened and continues to happen that people can still feel ungrateful for anything.
if the worst thing that happens to me this week is that i almost peed myself in my new car while sitting in traffic for an hour and a half, and only having to go to work one day this week, i'm pretty sure i am one of the lucky ones. in addition, i was surprised when some friends extended their concern and have shown more care than anticipated towards me, my family and my city. i couldn't be more grateful.
i'm definitely fortunate, and i know it, so i'm clapping my hands and feet.
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