11 years ago.

at about this time, 11 years ago -
* i was getting my hair sprayed and clipped and formed into an up-do.
* the Cutest Girl in Hesperia was in a green robe, ready for her turn.
* it was beyond windy. (my hair did not move)
* i laughed at a young man, nervous because he had to play the bagpipes. come on, dude - have you noticed i'm in a dang wedding dress?

oh - did i give it away?

11 years ago - we said we would. and we have. for better or worse, sickness and health and all the rest.

and if i had been on top of my game, i would have written vows like this:
i (your name here) promise to love you through fat times and unemployment. through loss of family and the gains, too.

through heartbreak and happiness. i promise to love you when you flub up and when you don't clean up after yourself.

i can't always promise to like you, but i will always love you.

i will always love you, even when you are having a breakdown - as long as you promise to love me, too, especially when i'm PMS-ing and i beg you to perform a hysterectomy on me.

i will always love you when you take three hours to do an oil change.

i will love you when you have no concept of time and we end up being late.

i will love you when you roll your eyes at my obsessions with Donny, photography, scrapbooking and whatever else i'm in to.

i love you, baby. thanks for eleven interesting years. here's to the rest of our lives together.

now...where were we?

oh yeah. talking about the week.
well, let's just get to the nitty-gritty: two of the cutest kids in Nevada.

this is the kind of photo i can show to a future prom date.

ah, Nintendo. where would we be without ye?

we went to swim lessons. gah, but i love taking pictures with a faboo telephoto lens.

then, of course, the first day of school...for kindergarten...

after the teacher brought in the kids, they read this story called "The Kissing Hand," about a raccoon who is scared about starting school, so his momma kisses his hand and tells him that if he gets lonely, he can press his hand (paw?) to his cheek, feel momma's kiss and know he's not along.
i'm actually the one that started sniffling, not Maureen.

and, as the teacher read, the Brand New Kindergartner raised her hand to let the teacher know that 'my mommy says her kisses are permanent.'
she's a pistol, she is.

Maureen & i did lotsa clothes shopping for the Kindergartner - dang, but there's some way super cute girl clothes out there. totally fun to play dress up with a real live doll.

y'know, if i could take pictures like this all the time, i could be happy.

i know. it's kinda dark. but man, it's fun watching kids jump and well, be kids.

i could eat 'em with a spoon.

and, while up there, i would check my work email and see the insanity going on back at home, and i would think 'oh, i do so wish i was there to help out.'

not.

i hated leaving. especially when, on the flight home, we hadn't pushed back from the gate, and it had been about 15 minutes since the attendant had shut the door of the plane.

finally the pilot got on the intercom and, apologizing for the hangup, says 'sorry for the hold up, folks, seems that *chuckle* we forgot to file a flight plan. but, we're all settled and should be pushing back shortly.'

you forgot to file a flight plan? the Husband almost wet himself laughing.

'why didn't he just walk down the aisle of the plane reading How to Fly a Plane?' he said.

why indeed. it's why i love flying.

but with these two, it's dang good reasons to keep getting on that plane.

coming to you live from somewhere in L.A.

on Friday, i drove up with my friends, the oh-so-loving ones, to Griffith Park up in L.A. there's a huge zoo there, the observatory, a western heritage museum and Travel Town, a park dedicated to train aficionados and home of the L.A. Live Steamers, a model train club.

and that is where we ended up - checking out a barn. Uncle Walt had a barn, e-i-e-i-o.

back in the day, Walt Disney discovered model trains, this was way before he had designs to create Disneyland. he built a barn on his property, much to the chagrin of his wife, and with the help of two of his animators, designed the train that ran around the back of the house.

it is open to the public, but usually only on the 3rd Sunday of the month, when the train club meets. my friend, as he is so good at, finagled an invite to have it opened just for him. so, i got to tag along.

totally cool. not only the barn, the grounds and the wee train tracks, but heck...i got to flipping play for an hour with my baby camera.

that, Gentle Reader, rocked.

the barn.

looking out towards the hills in Griffith Park.i think this was my favorite of the whole day. made me fall in love with my camera all over again.

this was just cool.

this too. creepy, but cool.

the end of the line.

i just always like to wonder what's around the bend.

it just might be true love...between me and my baby camera. and yes, i'm already working on what i could submit to the fair next year.

happy weekend!

iiiiiiiiiiiiiii've just gotta ce-le-brateeeeeee....

time to be gettin' do-wn wid mah own funky self.

jump back!!!

this year, we have gone from dual income-no kids, to dual-income-on-the-Government's-dime-no-kids.

and now i'm back to dual income no kids. no Government allowed.

he got a job.

yes, there is joy in Mudville. the Mighty Casey struck a home run.

can i possibly think of any other euphoniums? give me time.

this job is at one of the places i had said were commitment phobes; it wasn't an 'interview,' just 'chatting.' it reminds me of dating, i said. remember, i added, no one has a second date with anyone that puts out on the first one.

apparently he listened.

he had a second inter...chat this week.
they offered him a position.
he asked to think about it over night.

see? he is trying to kill me.

we talked. i lovingly told him if he didn't take it, i would hurt him. badly. then he decided to 'negotiate.'

oh great googly moogly.

his offer was, since he's on my insurance, could he instead take that money the company would be spending anyway and get a little more pay?

at this point, i was on the floor frothing at the mouth. and again, if you mess this up, i will not only hurt you but i may hurt you to death.

lovingly, of course.

the guy went for it. Brendan starts Wednesday. i think i heard angels singing.

the only drawback? i gotta go back to my very unprincessy ways. you see, while he was off, he would do things around the house: dishwasher, bathrooms, vacuum, laundry. (but not the litter box. apparently he couldn't smell nor see the toxic cloud wafting from the room it's in.)

duuuuude. laundry.

i got kinda used to this princess way of life. i'm gonna miss it.

but i like him employed so much better.

wacky.

she's silly.

a total hambone when Auntie pulls out her camera.

i once had to pay her for the privilege of shooting her because i 'take too many pictures.'

she's so different from her brother. and her uncle laughs because he says she's just like her mother.

and she'll likely drive her mother to the funny farm.

but that's OK, because her mother and i have vowed to be in the same nursing home. (and there's not a whole lot of difference between the two)

and i love her (and her brother) like crazy.

see you in a few days.

where in the world IS she?

that would be me.

gone again.

one of my 'friends' at work said they thought i had "more vacation than sense."

jealous. probably accurate, but jealous.

i'm off to Reno for a couple o days...off to have some scrapbook fun, do a little babysitting, play Legos & Littlest Pet Shop AND freeze my gazungas off.

because i'm a Southern California girl. and for us, anything below 60 degrees is freezing weather.

wow. i'm a spoiled princess with more vacation than sense.

see you Thursday.

oh, one more thing.

another reason to rejoice and break forth in song.

o happy, happy day!

i can guarantee you where i'm gonna be tomorrow morning.

my 29.4 year old feet are doing the happy dance...now if only my 84.3 year old arse would cooperate.

ten years.

i woke up with that gawdawful feeling in the pit of my belly.


i completely overslept.


dang!


barely time for a shower, i SO have no time for breakfast.


knock at the door. run to answer, still in my robe.

and it's amazing i HAD a robe.


it's SO windy out there, i hear. and puzzled, i open up the curtains.


the American Flag directly outside my window looks like it's starched flat. no waves to it at all.


holy crap.


another knock at the door. it's my friend and her daughter. ready for a fun-filled day.


i finally get my hair finished. make-up's on. i still don't know how i'm getting dressed.


spaz.


i finally do get dressed. and i can't remember the last time someone wanted to take pictures of me after i got dressed.

goooooooo me!

we leave and walk down the stairs. a crowd has assembled at the bottom of the stairs...and all this because i managed to get dressed.


they applaud. i bow. they take pictures.

paparazzi!


i take a moment to pray. i open my eyes and there's a bug. climbing.up.my.boobage. so, i flick it off me.


i then remember about the video camera. will the paparazzi never leave me be?


i got kissed.


we got married.











ten years ago, Husband and i stood in a hundred year old church, in the middle of Knott's Berry Farm and promised before God, our friends and family to love, honor and cherish.

it's been a ride. lots of ups, thankfully not as many downs. many tears. many stupid fights. some badly cooked meals. disappointments. victories. romance. and lots and lots and lots of dull, boring ordinary days.

i always say, every day we let each other live is a good day. i tease him that i would never kill him...why would i let him off so easily?

we laugh. we cry. we're silly. we're serious. we're good looking.

most days.

but he is my world. my life. and while i know that if i had to, i could go on without him, i never EVER want to have to find out how i would.

ten years. it's like, wow.

it's the little things.

it's crazy.

all it is, is a stud through my nose.

and it did hurt to get it.

but that notwithstanding - it makes me happy.

i had no idea. but every time i see it, it makes me smile.

ain't it crazy? it's a freaking mid-life crisis after all.

but it totally makes me happy.

happy, happy, happy.

so who says money can't buy you happiness?

naps are goooood.

really good.

in fact, to paraphrase Master Ben Franklin: naps are proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.

which, in some cases, can almost be as good as the beer Franklin spoke of originally.

Husband and i got up, ran an errand or two, then came home to settle in for computer/reading time. whereupon we both ended up drooling on ourselves and i ended up with couch hair, where my newly refreshed with color locks resided on the arm of said couch.

great. i have dented hair and dried saliva. i am a catch.

it's been humid here in Mostly Smoggy So. Cal., and, as any resident will tell you, we are soooo spoiled that if (and when) the weather goes above 78-82, we freak. whine. fall to our knees and beseech the deity we worship (in some cases, whatever the religious flavor of the month is) to let it snow. a freak wind blowing down from Alaska.

well, just ad humidity to the equation and we lose our freaking minds.

at least the cat got smart...

yep. sacked out on the cool bathroom tile. i'd join him if only i could be assured i wouldn't end up in one of those damn "LifeLine" commercials.

remember? "i've fallen and i can't get up!!"

with my luck, the paramedics would look at each other and say "it's the O'Mahony broad again. just leave her there till she sobers up."

fools. don't they know the bathroom is nowhere near the liquor cabinet? which is wrong, but that's another post.

in other news...

Cyn was kind enough to accept the bribes, er...donations to her favorite charity and nominate me again for a Rockin' Blogger Girl.

*sigh* awards. they're so shallow. it used to be about the work, man. now it's all about who's got the better agent. wait...what?

sorry. thought we were talking about the Emmys.

seriously. i never won any awards for my writing, and then to get two from girlies that never fail to bring joy to my heart, well...that's just the graham cracker crust on my cheesecake.

so now i tag.....

Steff - as she puts it, she's a happy girl. i say she's her own person and as a teacher, always has some wild stories during the school year. 'sides, her toes are painted cute.

Jenny - probably another extended member of my family.

Quinn - one of my secret pleasures. and now i share with you.

and the best part is, all these girls and the kids i read regularly are ones i would love to hang with. to raise a glass with, whether alcoholic or not, to fun. to friendship. and to life.

after all, it's the only one we get. we might as well enjoy the ride.

guess who turns 20 today?

g'on. guess..


happy birthday, farmgirl!! yes, the nickname still makes me giggle...mostly because it's so much better than a nickname i had in junior high...fishface (because my last name was Fisher).

happy, happy. when you make a wish and blow the candle out, i'll be rooting that you do get your wish...sooner rather than later.

(and before you send me emails, it's only because i don't know your birthday. let me know, because i am ALL about birthdays. in case you didn't know...)

courtesy from Linda...

my dear Linda had this on her little corner of the internet today...and, like her, i'd never seen it before, so i'm going to give it a whirl.

10 Great Memories from Your Childhood

1) going with my uncle to AAA league games growing up in Long Beach. just a great daughter-daddy time that made growing up less uggy.

2) back to my uncle...again. i would walk every.damn.day. a little over a quarter of a mile, crossing a major street to meet him as he took the bus home from work. i was probably about four or five. heck, i wouldn't even let the four year old niece cross the back yard now without watching her.

3) getting letters from pen-pals when i was about 9 or 10. i had joined the Pioneer Girls @ church, and signed up for their pen-pal program. i got about a gazillion letters. and tried to answer every bloody one. (i thought it would be good practice for when i became a World Famous Author and would have to answer all that fan mail)

4) being Queen of the Circus. i know i've talked about it before, but it really was the first time i ever won anything.
and i met Mel Torme. niiiiice.

5) my first kiss. i was 15. he knew i'd never been kissed and said i just looked kissable. i did have a little bit of a crush, so it was pretty sweet.

6) ditto the only time a guy i really, really, really liked stroked my hair, coming home from a Dodgers game. i thought my life could not get any better.

7) at 17, i was named to the Editorial Staff for the Pot of Gold, the state newspaper for California Rainbow Girls. holy crap. my name got announced in front of a few thousand screaming hormonal teenage girls. the other girls in my assembly jumped on me. i never even heard my name. i just started crying.

8) finally getting a part in a school play. then it turned on me because i got total stage fright. niiiice.

9) bringing my favorite doll (who was as tall as i was) to Sunday School...and getting into arguments with the Sunday school teacher who insisted my doll wasn't a real person.
lesson learned? never tell a child that imagination is wrong.

10) not exactly a childhood memory, but finding toys i loved as a kid on eBay, bidding and winning brings back some killer memories. even though i can't give them to kids of our own, i plan on giving to Miss Erin when she gets older...and play with them and her.

there's mine. where's yours?

a love story, of sorts.

this is a tale of my first real love.

before Brendan. before Kent. before David Hunter and Donny Osmond or even Shaun Cassidy.

there was baseball.

baseball. America's pastime. the brainchild of Abner Doubleday. the evil stepchild of cricket.

and my first real love.

back in the day, after the sperm donor had passed me by, there was my Uncle Jimmy. the man i still consider to be my dad. a tall fellah, with a friar's fringe and glasses, he was the coolest man alive...before Alzheimer's stole him from me before his body had passed.

and a baseball fanatic.

growing up in Long Beach, we lived not too far from Blair Field. it was across the street from my future high school, and where not only Cal State Long Beach would play, but also a AAA team.

we would go every Saturday.

there never were a lot of people there. on a good day, maybe a hundred in a stadium that seated at least 500. but we were there, soaking the game in. and when i was bored (which could happen when you're five), i could run up and down the bleacher stairs as much as i wanted.

by myself.

freedom.

one of the best parts of the day was getting dinner. or lunch. always a hot dog. Cracker Jack (c'mon. it is baseball, y'know). beer for him, Fresca for me.

Fresca? when you're five? it goes like this: i never liked Coke as a kid. my drinks were root beer or 7Up. Fresca was the next best thing. even though i positively HATED the taste, it was still something to drink.

and, like i said, Uncle Jimmy would usually have a beer, much to my chagrin. i was an extremist child. i was convinced that if you drank beer, you were an alcoholic.

not the most giving. i saw things in black and white. no gray for me.

regardless, it was one of the best parts of my week.

so why bring it up?

at the grocery store today, they had a little box next to the change dispenser. in it was a pocket calendar schedule for the Long Beach Armada...the new name of the AAA team in Long Beach that i still think is managed by my favorite retired Dodger, Steve Yeager. (no relation to Chuck. i think.)

suddenly i was five years old again, and totally excited about spending a Saturday afternoon with my daddy.

he inspired me. not only for baseball, but to chase dreams. and even though i lost that wonder as a part of my every-day life, it still shows up now and then...to reclaim me as its own.

true love, my friends, never dies.

treat me like the princess i am...and i'll never let you down.

you may call me Her Royal Hindass Princess Valerie, ruler of all things cool and righteous.

riiiiiiiight.

seriously. i have had the best 24 hours ever. and short of the baby fairy dropping one off at my stoop, it couldn't have been any better.

work was so-so. but after getting home, the Husband told me to change my clothes, we were off to fine dining. and, not knowing where i was going, was gonna make things interesting. but...the Husband doesn't make me get dressed up to go to Red Robin for burgers, so i'm good with it.

we went here.

yum. yummy-yum-yum.

after they seated us, the maiter'd took our white napkins...and returned with black ones. we were both wearing black, and so black napkins wouldn't show the lint from the white ones.

i ain't in Kansas anymore.

the waiter, came by and said he was going to illustrate the menu before he gave them to us. then he pulled over a cart that had a basket of fresh veggies, a huge tray of steaks, covered with a thick layer of plastic wrap; the third tray had a lobster. but i figured it wasn't real.

as the waiter explained the different steaks they had, the veggies and salads, he then said "oh, and we have lobster..." and picked it up.

it moved.

holy freaking cash cow Batman. it's a real.live.lobster!!!!

i swear if my eyes popped any wider, they would've split in half.

now i wasn't going to order the lobster anyway, but even if i was, i couldn't. see, for starters i bonded in that quick moment with Chris Crustacean.

no. not really.
i'm really enough of a baby to want my food to not look like it's original form. i realize it's silly.

i realize it's childish.

welcome to my world.

but dinner was wonderful. AND i got chocolate lava cake for dessert.

Weight Watchers be damned. i ate it all.

then came today.

we ordered lunch from a killer Mexican place. my friend brought root beer floats for dessert.

then came the gifts.

i got the new cookbook from the Deen boys. i got beer and beer glasses from a brewery in Escondido, just down the freeway in San Diego Co.

and tonight a group of friends from work are going to a BBQ place to continue the celebrations.

it's the never ending birthday. and even though my mother disapproves of my little stud, and my step-pop called me a barbarian (i think he was kidding...wasn't he?), it's been a totally fun, celebratory 24 hours.

and, unlike Lindsay Lohan, i didn't crash my car and end up in rehab.

i am 45.

it's official. i now begin the walk down the middle-of-the-aged road.

riiiiight.


i ended up going to work today, because the Boss called and said his wife was going to be induced today, so don't hate me, but please go in?

well, ok. but you gotta name the kid after me, since she's likely to be born on MY BIRTHDAY.

he laughed, that kinda nervous laugh people have when they're not sure if you're serious or not.

well, of course, i'm serious, dammit...if i'm giving up my vacation the LEAST you can do is name the kid after me...'specially since she's gonna be born on MY BIRTHDAY.

i gotta talk it over with the Wife first, he says.


chicken.


today wasn't bad. just really slow (which i was expecting) and SO would rather have been at home, no makeup, watching Season Two of Dead Like Me on DVD (thanks, Husband!).


and thanks, Linda, for the birthday wishes on your blog and the ecard. totally made me laugh.


oh, and to prove i am ripe for a midlife crisis.... i present photographic evidence.


do not adjust your monitor.
that is a real, genuine nose piercing.
not the magnetic one i bought earlier this year (and was terrified the backing would come off and i would inhale the magnetic disk...sheesh. what am i, four years old?)

a real stud in a real hole in my really big nose.

did it yesterday in Newport Beach at a VERY clean place my friend recommended.
took no time at all, and didn't hurt NEARLY as bad as it did when i got my ears pierced, 27 freaking years ago!!!
(quick version of that story: i lived with Crazy Auntie Kay at the time, and she said ANY piercings was barbaric. i wanted my ears pierced, so on my actual 18th birthday, i took the bus over to the Lakewood Center Mall, to Chic Accessories and got 'em shot up. it hurt soooo baaaad, i ended walking around the mall in a stupor, crying for about half an hour. wuss.
oh, and Auntie was so angry, she didn't speak to me for almost a week. imagine what she's doing now, from her vantage spot in Heaven!)

i'm still getting used to it. i see it occasionally, and think it's really sparkly/glittery eye shadow. then i rub it.
stupid.
it doesn't hurt. it didn't even hurt *after* the woman at the shop pierced it.

oh...about that woman.

nicest lady ever...was kinda like a grandma figure...i cried a little..well, welled up really bad when she first pierced it, and sweet lady put her hand on my shoulder and said, "you OK, sweetie?"

what was funny is that the woman had tattoos up & down BOTH arms.
definitely not my grandma.

oh and now, i'm announcing Random Thoughts - Live!
yes, for a mere pittance, you can hire me, yes me, to entertain at your parties, receptions (Jolene? just a thought...), Tupperware parties (only not ones that are fundraisers designed by people you haven't seen in over 20 years)...my talent? (and thanks to my dearest Kristie for this idea)

i'll be performing a Dancing Waters show.
out my nose.
i'll be using my new hole to create water illusions AND! by shining colored flashlights on the waters, i can color coordinate for any occasion! to any music you choose!

now that's entertainment.

so thanks - and here's to my next 45 years. heaven only knows what i'll do next.

Broken Roads and Broken Hearts.

She came to California to escape. She came with dreams, most of them broken and a heavy heart...also broken.

She came looking for a new start.

She came expecting her first child.

As the car widened the distance from the past to the future, her memory was still at home, reliving everything from the past few months.

She was in love. She thought he loved her. She imagined them setting up the American Dream: 2.5 kids, white picket fence, dog in the front yard.
But what she got instead was rejection from him.

So she went to his parents. Surely they, of all people, would help. They knew her. They loved her. They said so, and how glad they were that their son had this calming influence in his life.

But all she got instead was rejection from them.

How do we know it's really his?
You could be doing this to trap him into a future that's not his.

He's not a child. He's 21. This is his child.

The conversations kept looping like annoying muzak in her brain as they drove.
California would be the answer. She & her mother and this unborn child would make a new life. A fresh start. She would find a love that would embrace both herself and this child.

No rejection. No judgemental eyes. Only love and a bright future.

Months raced by as she prepared for the New Arrival. Cute clothes to be purchased. Toys. A baby's room to be decorated. Yet all the time, in the back of her mind, that loop of rejection kept playing. This should be us. Not my mother and i. This should be a mother and a father planning this together.

Occasionally, she would imagine that he would come looking for her, like she used to dream as a child that her father (who left when she was three) would come back for her and her mother.

That would never happen.

The baby was born the day after her 21st birthday. A 21st birthday should be spent celebrating, but instead she got jello and split pea soup with a candle. Instead, she spent hours birthing a breech baby who, to make things more difficult, came out with the cord wrapped around her neck.

A girl. A girl who looked like him. Like the man who rejected her.

As the baby grew, she had no time to think of the past, as she did before. Occasionally, she would fall into the trap of What Could Have Been, but would stop, look at this baby, and remember that it's your past that shapes you, but your future is what you make of it.

She came to start a new life. Both for herself and the baby girl who writes this today.
I say she did a bang up job.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. i love you.

happy 500th posting to me!

500 ramblings, blah, blah blahs and the occasional sensible posts.

thanks for sticking with me.

post away. i might be giving away some goodies.

gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo me!!!

oh yeah...i remember now...

this is one reason why i'm still in Mostly Smoggy Southern California. because of days like this, at the marina in my hometown of Long Beach.

eating killer crab with a silly boy (don't believe me? see below. white men can't rap.), just enjoying perfect weather.

'sides, i couldn't let April outdo me by having a date night. :op

because no one asked for it...

well, no one except for SusieQ.

so - per no request...here's some things that make me happy, in no particular order.

reading...writing...creating artsy stuff...scrapbooking...eating good BBQ...ditto good beer...the color cobalt blue...CSI...Good Eats...laundry...daisies...Disneyland...makeup...time alone...time with the Husband...rainy days...the beach (but only in the winter)...good music...fresh baked goods...clean laundry scented candle...photography...James Bond movies...In-n-Out burgers...Fatburgers...hot fudge sundaes with no nuts...coconut cream pie with a graham cracker crust...homemade split pea soup (thanks, Maureen!) Donny Osmond...Keith Urban (once again, thanks Maureen!)...Alton Brown...history...Hollywood studio history...fresh sheets on my bed...pedicures & manicures...massages...travelling...Marathon bars (NOTE to M&M/Mars - BRING THEM BACK!)...trivia...the local radio show: Disco Saturday Night, which plays exactly what you think it does - for seven fun hours every Saturday night...

ED: how could i forget? Haggan Daas vanilla ice cream...and my two new favorites: Ben & Jerry's Dublin Mudslide and Strawberry Cheesecake
doesn't take much to make me happy, does it? with all this, i should be happy all.the.time.

almost forgot!

(sorry for the flash brightness...)

i bought myself a bit of a kicky spring bouquet today. i decided i was tired on waiting for Husband to 'surprise' me, and since i am responsible for my own happiness (flowers = happy), i decided to surprise myself.

Husband was surprised too, especially when i told him they certainly were NOT for my mother.

(and before you say Bad Daughter, i did buy her her own bouquet)

flowers make me happy. almost as happy as a coconut cream pie with graham cracker crust.

(and Susie, that is your bear nestled to le posies)