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!!!

a new medicine, unwelcome guests and addendum.

wow. a trifecta post. i'll try to be interesting..for a change. :o)

on Wednesdays, i head over to the Parents' abode to say hi and generally visit. (such a good girl, i know). and today was no exception.

last night was Bunco, and i opted out. Mom, however did go, and picked up from one of the girls three paper bag books that this girl wants me to put together. (fine. there will be money involved this time) she also brought back some little notebooks i put together before last Christmas to sell at the boutique at work. she was going to sell on eBay.

they didn't.

great. i'm a two time loser. can't sell at work, can't sell on eBay.

so here's my new medicine idea: EgoEase. you can take them and all ego issues are vanished!

they're fast acting! and easy on your stomach! best of all, you don't need a prescription!

ahh-hem. onwards.

this morning...i walked out of a lovely shower, feeling not only clean, but at peace with the world (obviously before i decided to smush my ego), when....

look! a visitor!!

that would be a cricket. on.my.pants.

now i love nature as much as the next girl, just not on my pantalones.

what a sissy. needless to say i captured the beast, and set him free outside.

(and don't you be emailing or posting me and telling me this is a cucarocha. i know what i know and i believe what i wanna believe.)

now for the addendum.

'member the other day when i talked about nicknames? well, i oopsied. BIG time. one i was reminded of, the other i remembered on my own. (thank heavens. i'm not as old as i though)

Auntie Vowel and Aunt Balery.

AV came courtesy of Kristie's two babies...who aren't babies any more, but i just found out they read this rambling blog and i like to irritate them by CALLING THEM BABIES!!!! NAAAAAHH

Jourdan started calling me Auntie Vowel, trying to say Val and well, it came out Vowel. (Brendan likes to say he's Uncle Consonant. i say nice try.)

AB came courtesy of Maureen's oldest, Dean. let's face it, B & Vs sometimes sound the same, much less say the same, especially when you're just a little shaver. (and i know, Dean, you're not -- you're almost 7) {p.s. - he probably doesn't read this, but i thought i'd just cover my bases. just.in.case.}

semi-big doins' tomorrow. actually only big to me, and i actually missed the one i really wanted, so i'll go with this...just wait till tomorrow!

it's in the way that you use it...

courtesy of a tag from Jacquie...happy humpmyhumpmylovelyladyhump day, by the way...


The Tag is this: Name 5-10 ways you use your blog:
1. to write. (because i love writing!)
2. to share my joys and frustrations.
3. because a blog is cheaper than therapy.
4. to show off photos.
5. because i'm an attention whore. :o)
6. it's better than going postal.
7. how else would i have met the wonderful people i have on line?
8. because it's fun.
9. did i mention blogs are cheaper than therapy?
10.to get back at the people that tag me. (just kidding!! i couldn't think of something for #10!)

tagging all readers...but especially Allison, Linda, Melissa, Kenny & Jolene!

call me what you want...just not late for dinner.

amen that.

for some reason, i've been obsessed with nicknames lately. thinking about them and what not.

everyone has one. even if it's just honey, sweetie or HEY!

i have several. not all liked, some given by people that i have NO idea why they chose that.

back in the day, my uncle called me Buster. probably as in Brown. but i hated it. i think i connected it with being a boy. and i am a girl, dammit.

(the real irony is that when i was a young un, i had an alter-ego: Tommy. i would answer to none but Tommy, and woe be unto you if you called me Valerie, when i was Tommy. i told you i was bi-polar.)

moving on to junior high...i caught the unfortunate moniker of Fish. a play on my maiden name...and believe me, Fish was better than Fishface, which was the other name i got stuck with.

i know. it WAS mean. i take solice in the fact that the poo-poo heads that called me that are now either divorced (or unmarried - HA!) with five kids, are doing time, hard time, or are drying out someplace.

ain't i a bee-yatch? moving on.

at work, i have many names...most of which i can share here on this family blog. valshmal ( i like that one), valley (not my favorite), val-der-ree, val-der-rahhhh, val-der-rah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha (for those of us of a "certain age" no doubt remember the song The Happy Wanderer. it fits. and actually, that goes back to my childhood).

then there's att-a-gal. yes, attagal. one of the chicks i used to work with gave that one to me.
she's notorious for giving everyone names. some just weird. one of the weird ones was to a guy we used to work with who got the name Woody. the excuse was that he was named after Woody in Toy Story.

the true story was that he once got a splinter in his palm. i won't go into more detail, family blog and all that. (you can always email me or post comments to ask & i'll let you know)

anywhooo, i was trying to get logged on the new computer system one day, and kept getting failure notice after failure notice when it finally worked. "attagal!" he exclaimed.
and there you have it.

and of course, the infamous val. it's not my favorite, but i tolerate it. it's not as bad as some and
everyone calls me that. well, almost everyone. the Husband calls me valerie. he also calls me sweeteepie, cutie, and ...sorry.
digress girl, thy name is me.

(hey! a new nickname!)

celebrate...good times, come on!

we're off to dinner. again.

but this time it has a purpose.

we're celebrating my step-pop's birthday tomorrow...and the parents thought that tonight would be better than tomorrow. (i agree. considering how late the Husband can get home from work most nights)

he's going to be 81.

daaaaang.

happy birthday, Poppy.

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

motivation vs. drugs

i am in search of motivation.
and some prozac.
got either one that you're willing to share?

here's my story:

Husband & i have SO fallen off the Weight Watchers wagon, it ain't even funny. and i need to be back on.

i'm just lazy. poor excuse, huh?

you'd think after all the mental angst i put myself through over the back surgery that it would be a no brainer.

i'm lazy. L-A-Z-Y.

but...i'm going back today. i need to fix me. and since i am responsible for my own happiness (as well as not having more back surgery), i'm getting off my bum and taking the husband and we're going.

i'd like to think i can be as successful as my Melissa, i want to believe. and so the journey begins.again.

and now, on to the prozac portion of our program today.

yesterday at work, my group had a lunch. originally it started as a group get together, but expanded into a birthday lunch (we have four May birthdays in our group). (oh, and did i also mention that the person who spearheaded this whole lunch thing didn't participate? whatever.)
and did i also mention i was the one who ended up fetching the lunch?

that's very important for later.

the whole lunch yesterday was just odd. well, not the lunch, but the whole prep leading up to it. people kept changing their minds on what they wanted to order. then one of the women in my group wanted to know when i was picking up the order. you see, the last time they had an order from this place, the order was made late, and wasn't ready, blah, blah, blah.

hmmm...am i now responsible for the time restaurants takes to cook? oh well.

i place the order (early, i might add) and take off to fetch it. not everyone had paid me, so when i got there, i decided to just put the whole thing on my check card.

wait...where's my check card?

oh crap.

check the pockets, nope - it's not there. go back to the car and go through my purse. negative.
check the wallet. dang. check the pockets again.

as my stepfather would say, it vanished like a fart in a whirlwind.

i called my boss, and asked him to check my hoodie, at my desk, hoping that i just left it in my pocket, from when i got gas earlier in the morning.

he comes back to the phone. "sorry, i didn't find anything."

let me just give you a minute to digest that. let me also give you a minute to imagine my panic and nausea.

"just kidding. i've got it right here."

let me also give you the opportunity to join me in killing him.

he came out to meet me and bring the card, and also says "i've never heard you panic. ever. you were panicked. it was weird."

well, duh. that card, like most Americans, is my lifeline.

but he's right: panicking is really not something i do.
it was then i realized that i've been married too long.

Husband is a panickier. my mom is one, too.

could it be that as i get older, i will panic all.the.time?
i'm getting fat, lazy and panic at the whim of a breeze.

Mick Jaggar was right: what a drag it is getting old.

snicker!

so after the downer yesterday, i thought you could use some giggles. heaven knows i do!

If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it is yours to keep forever. If it doesn't, it was never yours to begin with.
But if it just sits in your living room, eating your food, using your phone, messing up the place and doesn't realize you've set it free...you've either married it or given birth to it.

A reason to smile: every seven minutes, someone in an aerobics class pulls a hamstring.

The best way to forget your troubles is to wear tight shoes.

My mind not only wanders, it leaves completely.

Amazing! You hang something in your closet for awhile and it shrinks two whole sizes!

Sometimes i understand why i'm here. Then i regain consciousness.

and my favorite...

They say we need to get in touch with our bodies. I asked my body yesterday, "Body, how would you like to go to the 6pm toning class?"
And clear as a bell, my body said, "Listen, fatty, do it and die."

happy hump day!

english & karma classes now in session.

i·ro·ny1 [ahy-ruh-nee, ahy-er-]
1.
the use of words to convey a meaning that is the opposite of its literal meaning: the irony of her reply, “How nice!” when I said I had to work all weekend.
2.
Literature.
a.
a technique of indicating, as through character or plot development, an intention or attitude opposite to that which is actually or ostensibly stated.
b.
(esp. in contemporary writing) a manner of organizing a work so as to give full expression to contradictory or complementary impulses, attitudes, etc., esp. as a means of indicating detachment from a subject, theme, or emotion.
3.
dramatic irony.
an outcome of events contrary to what was, or might have been, expected.
the incongruity of this.
an objectively sardonic style of speech or writing.
an objectively or humorously sardonic utterance, disposition, quality, etc.

ah, irony. you're going steady with karma, ain'tcha?

we had our first of three birthday dinners for May tonight..a yummy fiesta at El Torito, a mexican food chain. i brought the shower gifts for the girl who's shower i purposely ditched.

remember that?

apparently the Powers that Be do too.

i got asked today to plan not only a baby shower for my boss, BUT for another girl in our group who's due next month.

hey. at least this one is married.

what am i supposed to learn from this? what great life lesson am i supposed to take away from this...being surrounded by pregnancy?

sometimes...like tonight...it just feels like a slap in the face. over and over and over.

i just don't get it.

i really think i'm a patient person. after all, i deal with my Husband and his emotions on a daily basis.
so if the Lord is trying to teach me that, i think i've already got that lesson down.

or maybe i don't.

i'm many things. like everyone else, i have many layers.

but this is just a constant poking at a sore. it doesn't get any better. and if what kills me only makes me stronger, i'm freaking Supergirl by now.

ta. i'm off to race a speeding bullet and arm wrestle a locomotive.