Anybody who knows me knows that had I been alive during the early 20th century, I would have TOTALLY aspired to be the Town Crier. I would love to run the streets in a spiffy outfit sharing the news with the citizenry. I would have been sooooo good at that job. I would have been known throughout the land as the best Town Crier EVER. In fact, when big news happened, on my day off, they would have waited to share it until I got back to work because they would have wanted me on the job. OR, I would have gotten paid overtime to come in and share the news. Which begs the question - would I have had a salary, been paid hourly or would I have been paid per news event that I cried? And had I been paid per event would I have had to have another job, too? during that time, most/all women were married so I would imagine that my husband would have supported us and I would have done the crier gig on the side of being the CEO of the household. Hell, laundry alone is a full time job! I probably would have been married to a guy that would be turned on by my crier duties and would have wanted me to wear my crier clothes at home while we were role playing. I went too far didn't I? Sorry about that...
At any rate, as the present day town crier...
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!
I'm sooo excited, I literally do want to run the streets screaming it but I won't so that I don't get arrested. But thinking of doing that made me think of other things I should probably not do at her graduation festivities this weekend. There are three scheduled events - the hooding ceremony on Saturday, Baccalaureate on Sunday and the Graduation on Monday. I have visions of certain things I MAY do; but I'm committed to containing myself and NOT doing them. They include:
1) Shouting/Speaking in Tongues: I have a vision of me jumping up and down shouting GLORRRAAAYYYY to get started and then it's on from there. HALLELUJAH...309UDPOIJD 3*&)*&...literally in a full back bend, head thrown back screaming at the top of my lungs...waiting for an usher to come by to fan me and throw a hankie over me as I'm spread eagle on the floor.
2) On the floor in the fetal position: almost the opposite of the shouting experience would be me on the floor in the fetal position, sucking my thumb and crying uncontrollable tears of joy making a ridiculous amount of noise....not worrying at all that my spanx are showing . Intermittent embarrassing stories of her childhood would come between the bouts of tears and thumb sucking.
3) Pee on Myself: Although I've never done it, when I get REALLY excited, I get nervous that I may pee my pants. Depends IS an option, but does that mean I'll have to get bigger spanx to accommodate them? And will there be a visible panty ( or Depends) line?
4) Running: that's another thing I do when I get excited, I just want to run in a full sprint so fast that I need someone to tackle me to stop me.
5) Twirling/Spinning/Skipping: when I get happy I want to spin and twirl until I'm dizzy and I need to sit down. Then I want to skip. Now, I've been rehabbing this knee so my skipping is pretty good these days. My skipping has probably made it to the 70th percentile of skippers worldwide!
One of my aunts gave me an amazing compliment this weekend. She said "You so know how to live in the moment!" I loved that because I don't "try" to do it, I just do. It's the way I live. So this weekend, as I'm living in the moment of the revelry of The Girl's graduation weekend, I will not do anything to embarrass her. I will, however, be fully present in the most celebratory fashion I know how. I will have a permanent grin on my face of sheer unadulterated joy and pride. I will likely cry...a lot (no noise) - and I will have the cutest hankies that belonged to my grandmother - which will probably make me cry more (MY GRANDMA'S HANKIE...LAWD). I will hug her a lot. I will hug my Mama a lot. I will likely even hug my ex-husband (possibly - still TBD - since I live in the moment it will probably happen before I realize it). I will Hercules clap when her name is called - to the point I'll likely bruise my palms.
Yep this is a weekend for which Town Criers live. And this wanna be Town Crier will be at her best.
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, May 14, 2012
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
I Lost My Uterus...and Lost My Mind
So I didn't actually LOSE my uterus. I know where it is (or at least who took it and it was taken with my permission) but it's gone never to return to this body. I had no idea it was also going to make me lose my mind (again, not literally lose it but act crazier than the normal KT level of crazy).
Hysterectomies are not new. When I decided to have one I was surprised at the number of friends and family who've had them. As I was getting ready for my surgery I talked to so many of them and everyone had a "story". I found the Hystersisters website and felt like I was totally ready for this. The surgery was WAAAY more complicated than the doctor anticipated. Of course, I'm not surprised...I'm WAAAAY more complicated than the average bear (in a good way) hence my uterus and all things located therein (funky fibroids) would also be complicated. I came out - friends and family waiting - Philly Soul waiting to get a report from CAT - my BELOVED morphine drip...and pretty much all was right in the world.
Let's take a moment of silence out of respect for the morphine drip...that thing is amazing. Fortunately for me that drip is regulated so I couldn't get it as much as I wanted. I just wanted to stay out in front of the pain. I was scared to go to sleep because I didn't want to wake up in pain..who was going to push the button while I was asleep????
Obviously, I survived and went home a few days later, slept off the morphine and started my recovery. Now, my friend Candice told me she followed the doctor's orders to the letter and didn't have one issue. So she was my recovery idol. Being in the house with my Mom there was no option for me to overdo it. So physically I was coming along just fine. But mentally....all I can say is WHAT THE HELL????????????
It's already been established that I'm...well as a few friends put it...crazy as hell. I'd like to think of me as "exotic". So let's take all this exotic-ness and subtract my uterus. There is no easy way to say this...I'm officially coo coo for cocoa puffs. I knew there would be hormonal changes but I was in no way prepared for my combination of uteruslessness and natural exotic-ness....NOT AT ALL.
Exhibit A: I changed my alarm tone that wakes me up and the next morning when it woke me up I had no idea what the noise was, and was so startled, I literally threw myself out of the bed and was wedged on the floor between the wall and my bed...NOT a good look.
Exhibit B: I was putting sriracha sauce on some wonderful dish I'd prepared and looked at the top before I shook it to be sure it was closed and proceeded to shake away. Said top was NOT closed and there was a sriracha explosion on the wall of my kitchen. Then I said to myself, didn't I just look at that top? After the cleanup, I looked and TURNED the top again, and yep you guessed it, it was not closed again and I had a second sriracha explosion. I considered just leaving it on the wall as artwork but realized that would just be nasty.
Exhibit C: I needed something out of my boudoir (it's really my closet room but boudoir sounds so much more fancy). I ran upstairs and then couldn't remember what I was looking for. Instead of shaking my head or even just laughing it off, I started crying. Not those gentle tears where someone would pat me gently and say "are you ok?". No, I cried those falling on the floor laying prostrate before the Lord kind of tears. Now when you realize you're laying on the floor face down crying hysterically and then you STOP..the most humiliating part about that - EVEN WHEN YOU'RE ALONE - is getting up with some kind of dignity and resuming the day's activities. I stood up and then fell on my ottoman crying hysterically because I'd just cried hysterically. WHO DOES THAT???? A woman with that missing lady part, that's who.
I have so many more exhibits that I'd need to start doubling up on my alphabet. But I won't share any more because I don't want it to alter your admiration for me AND because Carolyn and JJ (actually now JD) always complain that my blogs are too long! I'll just say like the old ladies at church say - please pray my strength in the Lord. Also pray I don't need to lose any other lady parts.
Hysterectomies are not new. When I decided to have one I was surprised at the number of friends and family who've had them. As I was getting ready for my surgery I talked to so many of them and everyone had a "story". I found the Hystersisters website and felt like I was totally ready for this. The surgery was WAAAY more complicated than the doctor anticipated. Of course, I'm not surprised...I'm WAAAAY more complicated than the average bear (in a good way) hence my uterus and all things located therein (funky fibroids) would also be complicated. I came out - friends and family waiting - Philly Soul waiting to get a report from CAT - my BELOVED morphine drip...and pretty much all was right in the world.
Let's take a moment of silence out of respect for the morphine drip...that thing is amazing. Fortunately for me that drip is regulated so I couldn't get it as much as I wanted. I just wanted to stay out in front of the pain. I was scared to go to sleep because I didn't want to wake up in pain..who was going to push the button while I was asleep????
Obviously, I survived and went home a few days later, slept off the morphine and started my recovery. Now, my friend Candice told me she followed the doctor's orders to the letter and didn't have one issue. So she was my recovery idol. Being in the house with my Mom there was no option for me to overdo it. So physically I was coming along just fine. But mentally....all I can say is WHAT THE HELL????????????
It's already been established that I'm...well as a few friends put it...crazy as hell. I'd like to think of me as "exotic". So let's take all this exotic-ness and subtract my uterus. There is no easy way to say this...I'm officially coo coo for cocoa puffs. I knew there would be hormonal changes but I was in no way prepared for my combination of uteruslessness and natural exotic-ness....NOT AT ALL.
Exhibit A: I changed my alarm tone that wakes me up and the next morning when it woke me up I had no idea what the noise was, and was so startled, I literally threw myself out of the bed and was wedged on the floor between the wall and my bed...NOT a good look.
Exhibit B: I was putting sriracha sauce on some wonderful dish I'd prepared and looked at the top before I shook it to be sure it was closed and proceeded to shake away. Said top was NOT closed and there was a sriracha explosion on the wall of my kitchen. Then I said to myself, didn't I just look at that top? After the cleanup, I looked and TURNED the top again, and yep you guessed it, it was not closed again and I had a second sriracha explosion. I considered just leaving it on the wall as artwork but realized that would just be nasty.
Exhibit C: I needed something out of my boudoir (it's really my closet room but boudoir sounds so much more fancy). I ran upstairs and then couldn't remember what I was looking for. Instead of shaking my head or even just laughing it off, I started crying. Not those gentle tears where someone would pat me gently and say "are you ok?". No, I cried those falling on the floor laying prostrate before the Lord kind of tears. Now when you realize you're laying on the floor face down crying hysterically and then you STOP..the most humiliating part about that - EVEN WHEN YOU'RE ALONE - is getting up with some kind of dignity and resuming the day's activities. I stood up and then fell on my ottoman crying hysterically because I'd just cried hysterically. WHO DOES THAT???? A woman with that missing lady part, that's who.
I have so many more exhibits that I'd need to start doubling up on my alphabet. But I won't share any more because I don't want it to alter your admiration for me AND because Carolyn and JJ (actually now JD) always complain that my blogs are too long! I'll just say like the old ladies at church say - please pray my strength in the Lord. Also pray I don't need to lose any other lady parts.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Ahhhh....The Beginning
I'm not even going to get into how long it's been since I've done a post so....let just get into it.
So you're walking down the corridor and you spot him and he spots you and you think to yourself "Hmm, he's kinda cute." But you remind yourself to get closer before you make a final determination on his cuteness because of that one time you met a dude at the club and you thought HE was cute, too. You agree to meet the next day for coffee. You get there first and are sitting by the window waiting for Mr. Cute and you get distracted giggling at this fool trying to parallel park this big ole deuce and a quarter. He finally gets it parked and gets out with a velvet shirt and a soul patch and comes into the coffee shop and waves at YOU! What you THOUGHT was cute was actually a nightmare of an individual that couldn't get enough cashews. You remind yourself to never trust your eyes.
Anyhoo....This current cutie gets closer, and you realize he really IS cute. You do everything to try and calm yourself as he starts walking toward you You exchange greetings and chat for a bit, exchange numbers and agree to connect. He calls you the next day (because you're certain he doesn't want to seem too anxious and call you the same day) and you have amazing conversation for over an hour. The daily conversations get better and you can't BELIEVE this great guy is saying all the right things and he seems to be as into you as you are into him. Then.....it begins.
All that ridiculously crazy, tingly excitement that comes over you - THE BEGINNING. Suddenly, you're playing the playlist on your Ipod that has the most love songs. You're humming songs that have "la la" in the lyrics. You pull out your Love Jones DVD and watch it twice in a row. You DIE every time he says "Babe" cause he says it just right. You nearly have a heart attack when the phone rings and it's him because you were JUST thinking about him and hoping he would call. You start thinking of the ringtone he's going to get on your phone - but promise to wait at least two weeks before doing so. You have to work at not talking about him ALL THE TIME to your friends so they won't be sick of him before they meet him. You just want to find a field of flowers and freaking skip through it!
Who doesn't love the beginning? I love seeing those couples who have the "beginning" throughout the course of their relationships. I have lots of friends who do that and I get really excited for them (even if I sometimes want to throw up in my mouth about how sickeningly in love they are). Don't you love those couples that can have an intimate moment in a crowded room of people - to the point where you almost feel like you're invading their privacy? That there - that started in the beginning and has just carried on. Conversely, I feel sad for those couples who have no beginning happening and look like "Why does he/she keep coming home?" Do they remember their beginning? Did they even have a "beginning" or was their relationship some kind of business arrangement?
I am here to declare - I REFUSE to have a relationship that doesn't maintain some beginning in it. Who wouldn't want - at worst an itty bitty bit, or at best a whole heapin lot of that beginning throughout? For those negative Nancys who say it's not possible - I say HOGWASH...AND HOCKEY PUCKS and sentence you to a life of sensible shoes!
I and the the rest of us Beginning Believers are gonna be out here having us some beginnings, looking for a field of flowers (or strawberries, perhaps) for skipping, gaiety and all around merriment! Off we go...
So you're walking down the corridor and you spot him and he spots you and you think to yourself "Hmm, he's kinda cute." But you remind yourself to get closer before you make a final determination on his cuteness because of that one time you met a dude at the club and you thought HE was cute, too. You agree to meet the next day for coffee. You get there first and are sitting by the window waiting for Mr. Cute and you get distracted giggling at this fool trying to parallel park this big ole deuce and a quarter. He finally gets it parked and gets out with a velvet shirt and a soul patch and comes into the coffee shop and waves at YOU! What you THOUGHT was cute was actually a nightmare of an individual that couldn't get enough cashews. You remind yourself to never trust your eyes.
Anyhoo....This current cutie gets closer, and you realize he really IS cute. You do everything to try and calm yourself as he starts walking toward you You exchange greetings and chat for a bit, exchange numbers and agree to connect. He calls you the next day (because you're certain he doesn't want to seem too anxious and call you the same day) and you have amazing conversation for over an hour. The daily conversations get better and you can't BELIEVE this great guy is saying all the right things and he seems to be as into you as you are into him. Then.....it begins.
All that ridiculously crazy, tingly excitement that comes over you - THE BEGINNING. Suddenly, you're playing the playlist on your Ipod that has the most love songs. You're humming songs that have "la la" in the lyrics. You pull out your Love Jones DVD and watch it twice in a row. You DIE every time he says "Babe" cause he says it just right. You nearly have a heart attack when the phone rings and it's him because you were JUST thinking about him and hoping he would call. You start thinking of the ringtone he's going to get on your phone - but promise to wait at least two weeks before doing so. You have to work at not talking about him ALL THE TIME to your friends so they won't be sick of him before they meet him. You just want to find a field of flowers and freaking skip through it!
Who doesn't love the beginning? I love seeing those couples who have the "beginning" throughout the course of their relationships. I have lots of friends who do that and I get really excited for them (even if I sometimes want to throw up in my mouth about how sickeningly in love they are). Don't you love those couples that can have an intimate moment in a crowded room of people - to the point where you almost feel like you're invading their privacy? That there - that started in the beginning and has just carried on. Conversely, I feel sad for those couples who have no beginning happening and look like "Why does he/she keep coming home?" Do they remember their beginning? Did they even have a "beginning" or was their relationship some kind of business arrangement?
I am here to declare - I REFUSE to have a relationship that doesn't maintain some beginning in it. Who wouldn't want - at worst an itty bitty bit, or at best a whole heapin lot of that beginning throughout? For those negative Nancys who say it's not possible - I say HOGWASH...AND HOCKEY PUCKS and sentence you to a life of sensible shoes!
I and the the rest of us Beginning Believers are gonna be out here having us some beginnings, looking for a field of flowers (or strawberries, perhaps) for skipping, gaiety and all around merriment! Off we go...
Thursday, January 27, 2011
The Year is Young...As Am I!!!
I LOVE that my birthday is the first month of the year. It's kind of like the rest of the world gets to start anew along with me (except for the Chinese - when is their new year - how does that exactly work for them?). Gosh, I started digressing within the first sentence...but that's how my mind works. It's all over the place up there. AnThow...had a glorious holiday season, right up there with Mary, Joseph, Jesus and 'nem. I hadn't hung out with my Mama that much in ages and it was cool to just be in her presence and be utterly amused by HER musings!
I had so many revelations on that nearly 3 week trip to KC (won't be doing THAT again - WAAAAY too long to be away from MY space and my bed.
1) I don't live in KC any more. I'm not just visiting DC - this is where I live...my new home...my new sacred space. Yep, that's me all right up in this District. As soon as I got home, I started rearranging furniture. I just MIGHT make my deadline of having every box unpacked by March 31st!!
2) My daughter is 21. I have raised her. She is grown! I'm now just an advisor (and ATM). That girl that used to love rocks and pens and watermelo (she never could get meloN) and bawling eggs (boiling) and playing in her tent and Reading Reptile and her Granny's house is now a grown woman who can order a cocktail! Mazel tov Girldaughter and bring Mama a shot of tequila!
3) On January 8 I turned 47. FORTY SEVEN YEARS OLD. I am now closer to 50 than 40. In my 40's, yes - but LATE 40's. I feel like I've been saying 47 a lot more than I EVER said 46. I really don't mind aging because it means I'm still here and frankly I have no choice! Age or die. I'll take aging. But then I had a moment where I was asking myself all those silly questions about am I where I imagined I'd be blah blah blah. Really KT? You are where you are - LOVE IT - LIVE IT - LAUGH AT IT (especially laugh at it cause funny stupid ish happens to you every single day). That passed and I skipped on about my business.
4) Which brings me to my resolutions.
I had so many revelations on that nearly 3 week trip to KC (won't be doing THAT again - WAAAAY too long to be away from MY space and my bed.
1) I don't live in KC any more. I'm not just visiting DC - this is where I live...my new home...my new sacred space. Yep, that's me all right up in this District. As soon as I got home, I started rearranging furniture. I just MIGHT make my deadline of having every box unpacked by March 31st!!
2) My daughter is 21. I have raised her. She is grown! I'm now just an advisor (and ATM). That girl that used to love rocks and pens and watermelo (she never could get meloN) and bawling eggs (boiling) and playing in her tent and Reading Reptile and her Granny's house is now a grown woman who can order a cocktail! Mazel tov Girldaughter and bring Mama a shot of tequila!
3) On January 8 I turned 47. FORTY SEVEN YEARS OLD. I am now closer to 50 than 40. In my 40's, yes - but LATE 40's. I feel like I've been saying 47 a lot more than I EVER said 46. I really don't mind aging because it means I'm still here and frankly I have no choice! Age or die. I'll take aging. But then I had a moment where I was asking myself all those silly questions about am I where I imagined I'd be blah blah blah. Really KT? You are where you are - LOVE IT - LIVE IT - LAUGH AT IT (especially laugh at it cause funny stupid ish happens to you every single day). That passed and I skipped on about my business.
4) Which brings me to my resolutions.
- I am going to skip a WHOLE lot more. Besides being fun - it's gotta be good for my heart rate, right?
- I am going to make up great songs in the shower in the morning. How can I possibly get mad at a day or have a bad day when I have an original hit on my heart.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
The Quest
So I'm far more compelled to blog since I've moved. As expected, I really don't have a problem living in DC. But I had NO IDEA how much I would miss the life I had in Kansas City. I LOVE my solitude - I could not possibly be better company (I'm entertaining has hell). But I didn't realize I'd have these feelings of actually being alone - not lonely like Cinderella in her own little corner in her own little chair where she could be whatever she wanted to be (seriously, who doesn't love Rogers and Hammerstein?); but alone on a journey to my new life. There's a feeling of loss...like I lost the life I had and had to do it to get this new one.
But today I laid my eyes on my beloved Pat Brown Dixon and EVERYTHING I missed about that life hit me right upside my head. First, she showed up making it rain with a big ole bottle of Gates BBQ sauce.....aw yeah! Then, having lunch with her and just reminiscing about that other life of mine made me smile - but also made me a little melancholy. I've been seeing the fall events on Facebook that I typically attend - particularly Harl, Sloane and Dakota's Halloween Bash (stinky ole DC Halloween) and Wings of Hope (I MUST FIND ANOTHER OCCASION TO WEAR WINGS AND A HALO!!!!!!!!!) and even the Burning Sands stepshow where the ever dramatic Jackie Jones gets irritated with me for not wanting to go and not wanting to take my check for a donation (I wonder if her sorors know she didn't want my donation). BTW, I went last year and had a blast and was very much so planning to attend this year. But dammit, I need to be able to have a choice as to whether or not I'm going....I do not take kindly to these choices being made for me (to buy an airline ticket or NOT to buy an airline ticket - THAT is the question - my wallet holds the answer)!!!
So that's where I am...it's no longer a migration. It's a quest..a ginormous quest for this new life. What will it look like? How will it act? Will it be as freaking hilarious as the other one? I know I'M still funny; but will there be as many colorful characters? Will I find another Filipino lesbian lover (not really lesbian - and not that there's anything wrong with lesbianship)? Will there be a Tiffany to do a holy dance or start a revolution on cue? Will there be another M-Lissa to teach my Chile cheer to her children over breakfast? Will there be a Tina who'll appreciate the Amish? Will there be a Chief to produce liquor like a magic trick? Will there be a Vanessa to say the N-word at JUST the right time? I sound like CAT asking all those questions. Will there be a question asking CAT?
Oh well, today I'll loosen the grip on that life so I can start to take hold of this new one. I'm sure I'll have moments when I squeeze that other one REALLY tight because it's comfortable and familiar like my grandma's robe that really needs some mending and darning or because that life was as tasty as my Kim Brown's bacon tomato tartlets. My arms are officially wide open to squeeze really really tight whatever I unearth on THE QUEST!
But today I laid my eyes on my beloved Pat Brown Dixon and EVERYTHING I missed about that life hit me right upside my head. First, she showed up making it rain with a big ole bottle of Gates BBQ sauce.....aw yeah! Then, having lunch with her and just reminiscing about that other life of mine made me smile - but also made me a little melancholy. I've been seeing the fall events on Facebook that I typically attend - particularly Harl, Sloane and Dakota's Halloween Bash (stinky ole DC Halloween) and Wings of Hope (I MUST FIND ANOTHER OCCASION TO WEAR WINGS AND A HALO!!!!!!!!!) and even the Burning Sands stepshow where the ever dramatic Jackie Jones gets irritated with me for not wanting to go and not wanting to take my check for a donation (I wonder if her sorors know she didn't want my donation). BTW, I went last year and had a blast and was very much so planning to attend this year. But dammit, I need to be able to have a choice as to whether or not I'm going....I do not take kindly to these choices being made for me (to buy an airline ticket or NOT to buy an airline ticket - THAT is the question - my wallet holds the answer)!!!
So that's where I am...it's no longer a migration. It's a quest..a ginormous quest for this new life. What will it look like? How will it act? Will it be as freaking hilarious as the other one? I know I'M still funny; but will there be as many colorful characters? Will I find another Filipino lesbian lover (not really lesbian - and not that there's anything wrong with lesbianship)? Will there be a Tiffany to do a holy dance or start a revolution on cue? Will there be another M-Lissa to teach my Chile cheer to her children over breakfast? Will there be a Tina who'll appreciate the Amish? Will there be a Chief to produce liquor like a magic trick? Will there be a Vanessa to say the N-word at JUST the right time? I sound like CAT asking all those questions. Will there be a question asking CAT?
Oh well, today I'll loosen the grip on that life so I can start to take hold of this new one. I'm sure I'll have moments when I squeeze that other one REALLY tight because it's comfortable and familiar like my grandma's robe that really needs some mending and darning or because that life was as tasty as my Kim Brown's bacon tomato tartlets. My arms are officially wide open to squeeze really really tight whatever I unearth on THE QUEST!
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Today..This Day....Life As I Know It Has Changed!
So this migration to DC is humming along. The five minute rule of unpacking and organizing has maintained my sanity. Giving myself until March 31, 2011 to get the house completly organized has relieved me of any pressure I would have been putting on myself. My Saturdays are my "dates with DC" days as I engage in a delightful courtship with the DMV. Well, today was a good day. In fact, today was a transformative day. Indeed, life as I know it will never be the same. I owe it all to two people I've never met.
First, I need tires. I've been needing tires for at least 3 months. My front driver side tire has a slow leak. I've been just putting air in it every other week and humming along because I just don't have whatever it requires of me to go get it permanently fixed. A FB friend that lives here in the DC area was talking about getting tires and I was just going to read where she got them and go there. No, not lazy - resourceful. One of HER friends mentioned tirevan.com and that they deliver AND AND AND that they guarantee the lowest price. Ok, this can't be possible. Exactly what I need, at an affordable price, and RIDICULOUSLY convenient. This can't be true...it just can't. I checked the website...shut the front door and slap me six ways to Sunday - IT'S TRUE! Hallelujah, he is risen and I'm getting my tires!
Second...and this is huge. A few weeks ago someone I follow on Twitter mentioned an Amish Market in Laurel, Maryland and was singing the praises of the fresh food and these amazing prices. I'm familiar with the Amish and their products and said to myself, "I want to go to there." Well, today I did. And I had the most GLORIOUS grocery shopping experience of my 46 years, nine months and 15 days on the planet. As a PROUD Chopper Shopper (holla if you hear me) I've been really missing Price Chopper. I absolutely positively love and adore Trader Joe's and that has helped take the sting out of missing Price Chopper. Well Honeychild, I walked in that Amish market today and the birds started singing, angels were rejoicing, and Gabriel was blowing that horn at everything I saw. It was as if me, Jesus and my Daddy (who loved grocery shopping - actually it was a bit of a problem for him - couldn't come home without a bag) were strolling the aisles and pointing to goodies and giggling like school girls. I had heart palpitations as if I were at Saks 10022 Shoe Salon, everything was 75% off, I had a 20 % off total purchase coupon and EVERYTHING was my size. I really don't have the vocabulary to express the superlatives or expletives to share my sheer and utter joy at this experience. It hit me hard and cut me deep...real deep...loins deep!!!
Then I began to wonder. Why don't I know more about the Amish? I started talking to them as they were ringing up my purchases. They were REALLY nice and I think we really hit it off. I want them to be my friends. I could rock those dresses with some bad tights and a hot ankle boot or clog. I will even wear the bonnet. (I need to see if it comes in another color other than white.) Bottom line, I've found my new grocery store and can't wait to do it again and again and again. Praise God from whom all blessings, produce, poultry, and Amish flow!
First, I need tires. I've been needing tires for at least 3 months. My front driver side tire has a slow leak. I've been just putting air in it every other week and humming along because I just don't have whatever it requires of me to go get it permanently fixed. A FB friend that lives here in the DC area was talking about getting tires and I was just going to read where she got them and go there. No, not lazy - resourceful. One of HER friends mentioned tirevan.com and that they deliver AND AND AND that they guarantee the lowest price. Ok, this can't be possible. Exactly what I need, at an affordable price, and RIDICULOUSLY convenient. This can't be true...it just can't. I checked the website...shut the front door and slap me six ways to Sunday - IT'S TRUE! Hallelujah, he is risen and I'm getting my tires!
Second...and this is huge. A few weeks ago someone I follow on Twitter mentioned an Amish Market in Laurel, Maryland and was singing the praises of the fresh food and these amazing prices. I'm familiar with the Amish and their products and said to myself, "I want to go to there." Well, today I did. And I had the most GLORIOUS grocery shopping experience of my 46 years, nine months and 15 days on the planet. As a PROUD Chopper Shopper (holla if you hear me) I've been really missing Price Chopper. I absolutely positively love and adore Trader Joe's and that has helped take the sting out of missing Price Chopper. Well Honeychild, I walked in that Amish market today and the birds started singing, angels were rejoicing, and Gabriel was blowing that horn at everything I saw. It was as if me, Jesus and my Daddy (who loved grocery shopping - actually it was a bit of a problem for him - couldn't come home without a bag) were strolling the aisles and pointing to goodies and giggling like school girls. I had heart palpitations as if I were at Saks 10022 Shoe Salon, everything was 75% off, I had a 20 % off total purchase coupon and EVERYTHING was my size. I really don't have the vocabulary to express the superlatives or expletives to share my sheer and utter joy at this experience. It hit me hard and cut me deep...real deep...loins deep!!!
Then I began to wonder. Why don't I know more about the Amish? I started talking to them as they were ringing up my purchases. They were REALLY nice and I think we really hit it off. I want them to be my friends. I could rock those dresses with some bad tights and a hot ankle boot or clog. I will even wear the bonnet. (I need to see if it comes in another color other than white.) Bottom line, I've found my new grocery store and can't wait to do it again and again and again. Praise God from whom all blessings, produce, poultry, and Amish flow!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Migration 101
The biggest realization about this migration to DC is that - Moving is my KRYPTONITE! I had no idea that this was my weakness. I thought I just didn't like it. I've always told friends I don't help people move because I hate it so don't ask me. The ONLIEST person I will ever help move anything is my Mama. And even then, I'll pay somebody to do it for her. So the fact that I had to move for this job did bring on some anxiety but I figured I could handle it since movers would be coming to pack me up and would unpack me upon my arrival in DC.
Let's take a moment and roll back to 2005. I bought a house and was actually excited about it. On closing day, I'd gone to work and had lunch with a client and was excitedly headed out the door to closing. As I started the 20 minute drive, something came over me and tears started to flow. By the time I arrived at the office for the closing, I was just one level below hysterical.
Now any of you who've purchased a home know there are a LOT of papers to sign. After I signed the FIRST paper, I cried a few tears. By the time, I'd sign the last paper, I was audibly wailing...WAILING! After that, I had to go buy paint at the Home Depot. All that poor young fella did was ask me what kind of paint I wanted. I said the kind that goes on the walls and he drilled down further and asked if I wanted flat or something else...I still don't really know paint. I just looked at him and tears started to flow. I slid down the paint counter and sat on the floor of the Home Depot and cried HYSTERICALLY! That boy couldn't have been more than 22 or 23 and he came around that counter and was patting me on the shoulder telling me it would be ok.
Fast forward to Friday, September 10. I'd been in a DC hotel since September 1 so I was really looking forward to moving into the house and beginning the process of settling down. Movers arrived and started bringing things in the house and the heart palpitations began. Stuff was coming in the house fast and furious and I couldn't keep up with directing the movers around. Then the internet guy shows up and he doesn't have everything I need for my internet although I was VERY clear when I called to order my internet service. He kept asking me questions and the movers are still asking me where stuff goes. More heart palpitations and now tears. I WANT MY MAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Called Mama, felt calmer hearing her voice and reassurance. Internet man leaves and Directv man shows up. Poor Directv man...I'm not even sure what he asked me. But whatever it was, it sent me into a bout of Classic KT Hysteria! I am crying so hard I can't breathe. Poor man, he comes over and starts patting my shoulder and telling me it was going to be ok (reminiscent of the poor Home Depot boy - I wonder how he's doing). He kept telling me I had to breathe or I was going to pass out and he went to the kitchen and got me some water. I'm not sure what he was saying in Spanish. I think he was saying "This is a very nice lady." I finally calmed down a bit and he started doing his work. He's upstairs working and I hear a big noise.
Directv Man: Mam, are you ok?
Me: I was just about to ask you if you're ok?
Directv Man: (I hear him walking around upstairs). Mam, I want you to come upstairs to see something but you have to promise me you're not going to cry.
Me: Ok. I promise.
One of the racks I'd had in the bedroom I was converting to my closet had fallen down and all of my clothes were on the floor. I just looked and walked back downstairs. Next thing I know another Directv man showed up. Directv 1 man had called for reinforcement!!! I think my calm had terrified him. The two of them stood in the foyer talking in Spanish and every now and then they'd look over at me. I think Directv Man 1 wanted Directv Man 2 to meet this very nice lady.
After they left, Mama called to check on me and told me to work on organizing the house for just an hour a day. The next day I started working on it and started having heart palpitations after 5 minutes so now I know my limit. Five minutes at a time. I've given myself until March, 2011 to be organized.
I will NOT ever again be in charge of moving me. In the unfortunate event, I have to move again, my mother and my sister (moving and organizing experts) will come to the house and direct movers to pack and then go to the new residence to direct the unpacking/organizing process. I will take one of my cute weekend bags and go to a hotel and come back when the home is ready for my occupancy.
Moving = Kryptonite.
Knowing that moving is my kryptonite = Stress-free living.
Let's take a moment and roll back to 2005. I bought a house and was actually excited about it. On closing day, I'd gone to work and had lunch with a client and was excitedly headed out the door to closing. As I started the 20 minute drive, something came over me and tears started to flow. By the time I arrived at the office for the closing, I was just one level below hysterical.
Now any of you who've purchased a home know there are a LOT of papers to sign. After I signed the FIRST paper, I cried a few tears. By the time, I'd sign the last paper, I was audibly wailing...WAILING! After that, I had to go buy paint at the Home Depot. All that poor young fella did was ask me what kind of paint I wanted. I said the kind that goes on the walls and he drilled down further and asked if I wanted flat or something else...I still don't really know paint. I just looked at him and tears started to flow. I slid down the paint counter and sat on the floor of the Home Depot and cried HYSTERICALLY! That boy couldn't have been more than 22 or 23 and he came around that counter and was patting me on the shoulder telling me it would be ok.
Fast forward to Friday, September 10. I'd been in a DC hotel since September 1 so I was really looking forward to moving into the house and beginning the process of settling down. Movers arrived and started bringing things in the house and the heart palpitations began. Stuff was coming in the house fast and furious and I couldn't keep up with directing the movers around. Then the internet guy shows up and he doesn't have everything I need for my internet although I was VERY clear when I called to order my internet service. He kept asking me questions and the movers are still asking me where stuff goes. More heart palpitations and now tears. I WANT MY MAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Called Mama, felt calmer hearing her voice and reassurance. Internet man leaves and Directv man shows up. Poor Directv man...I'm not even sure what he asked me. But whatever it was, it sent me into a bout of Classic KT Hysteria! I am crying so hard I can't breathe. Poor man, he comes over and starts patting my shoulder and telling me it was going to be ok (reminiscent of the poor Home Depot boy - I wonder how he's doing). He kept telling me I had to breathe or I was going to pass out and he went to the kitchen and got me some water. I'm not sure what he was saying in Spanish. I think he was saying "This is a very nice lady." I finally calmed down a bit and he started doing his work. He's upstairs working and I hear a big noise.
Directv Man: Mam, are you ok?
Me: I was just about to ask you if you're ok?
Directv Man: (I hear him walking around upstairs). Mam, I want you to come upstairs to see something but you have to promise me you're not going to cry.
Me: Ok. I promise.
One of the racks I'd had in the bedroom I was converting to my closet had fallen down and all of my clothes were on the floor. I just looked and walked back downstairs. Next thing I know another Directv man showed up. Directv 1 man had called for reinforcement!!! I think my calm had terrified him. The two of them stood in the foyer talking in Spanish and every now and then they'd look over at me. I think Directv Man 1 wanted Directv Man 2 to meet this very nice lady.
After they left, Mama called to check on me and told me to work on organizing the house for just an hour a day. The next day I started working on it and started having heart palpitations after 5 minutes so now I know my limit. Five minutes at a time. I've given myself until March, 2011 to be organized.
I will NOT ever again be in charge of moving me. In the unfortunate event, I have to move again, my mother and my sister (moving and organizing experts) will come to the house and direct movers to pack and then go to the new residence to direct the unpacking/organizing process. I will take one of my cute weekend bags and go to a hotel and come back when the home is ready for my occupancy.
Moving = Kryptonite.
Knowing that moving is my kryptonite = Stress-free living.
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