Cats and The Bachelor

It was tonight when I was trying to find something interesting to blog about I once again affirmed something I 'm already acutely aware of, I am felony boring.  

I could blog about the fight Gioconda and I are currently having over the cats, she wants them outside all the time, I want them to have some house access, as it practically snowed last night, and they are all Southern California cats, not accustomed to inclimate weather,  so I busted out a window in the basement so they could at least come and go from that location and then lied about it.  As always, I was caught in the lie.

She seems to think the babies shouldn't share a bed with cats, I think it is a natural source of warmth. I just saw a picture of a tiger raising piglets, and we have two babies and need all the help we can get, so if one of the cats feels inclined to feed or change a baby, why not?  

Gioconda doesn't want cats raising the babies, reasonable minds can differ, I say it takes a village.

I was also thinking about blogging about The Bachelor, which is yet another reality show I watch.  A guilty confession, I never miss it,  as it is by far the best reality show on television.   It is the perfect storm of insecurity, jealousy, arrogance, and stupid girl drama with a little bit of sex mixed in.  I care much more about the rejects than I do about the person chosen at the end. I mean, it's not going to work out anyway, and how often do you get to actually witness a person get dumped that isn't you. 

Tonight the Bachelor, a guy who was dumped last season, went on a date with two women but only had one rose, so at the end of the night one of the women gets the boot.   It's awkward to begin with, a romantic date with him and two women,  under the right circumstances it is a plot for a porno, but this is prime time, and both women really want to stay on the show, so there is this competitive element to the situation.  I was watching it on a relatively small TV screen, and STILL it made me squirm.

What I don't understand about The Bachelor,  is how do the "loosing" contestants process this level of humiliation?   Once I asked a woman out I met at a party and she said she would call me and she never did, I still roll that one around in my head every once in a while, and it wasn't broadcasted.  I'm just not sure I am emotionally equipped to work through that type of public dismissal.

In any event, what I find most disturbing about the cats and The Bachelor, is that these are the two subjects I have in the forefront of my mind to blog about.

With everything going in the world, with everything going on in my own orbit, the cats and The Bachelor is where I land...sad but true. 

Pine Wood Derby

Gioconda says we have to watch the baby DVD's today.  We have one about the language of the cry, which explains what the different cries mean,  which is news to me because I generally find all crying sounds the same...and another one about how to calm a baby, as a baby doesn't have the neurological ability to calm itself until after two months.

Honestly, there are times I find it difficult to calm myself and I am about 44 years and 10 months from this demarcation.  One word, Ativan, this is how I calm myself.

Last night I went to my sister's house after spending the day gambling with my mother.  I love to gamble, but I hate to loose, and yesterday I was a big looser, so by the time I got to my sister's I was a little rough around the edges.

My sister had just come home from a pine wood derby at which her 9 year old son Parker participated with his boy scout troupe.

I was a looser at the tables, and Parker was a looser at the derby.

Apparently, he had just calmed himself (he is 9) from the trauma of the night.

"The entire left side of his shirt was wet from crying," his older brother Drew told me. 

"His car barely made it down the ramp, I think the wheels were on too tight," my sister added.

I'm not saying this is right, but the thought of this wood car stuck on the ramp, with the other cars whizzing by was gut busting funny to me.  To add insult to injury, there were 6 cars in the race, and 5 trophies, which meant Parker was to go home empty handed.

In an attempt to mitigate further humiliation my sister and Parker abandoned the car at the derby, and left prior to the award ceremony.

In fairness when I saw him he seemed as though he had processed the loss, that was until I said the following;

"Hey Parker, I heard your car won at the derby-NOT."  

First of all, who says NOT anymore, and second who says this to a kid who was so upset his entire left side was wet from crying- the answer would be me. 

Parker ran into the living room and threw himself on the sofa crying.

I'm not saying it was right, but still, even with the tears on the face of my nephew, this was still funny to me.  I did apologize to him and told him I knew I was insensitive.

"I hope you aren't going to talk that way to your daughters," my sister said.  I then came to a realization, and that was - I might.

A few months ago Dylan (the 16 year old) failed his driving test the first time he took it.  I saw this as an opportunity to tell him the 16 year old dwarf on a reality show I watched took his driving test, and even though he has little short legs and he has to use blocks to reach the car pedals, even through those challenges, he passed his driving test the first time.  

I added I had seen a show about siamese twin girls, who is really one person with two heads, one head controlling the left side, the other the right side, and that those unfortunate girls had recently taken a driving test, and passed it on the first time...dwarfs and two headed people had no problem passing. 

The other day I played the basketball game of HORSE with Aidan (the 14 year old), and although I didn't kick his ass, I beat him.  I pointed out to him, I was a 45 year old woman with very limited athletic abilities and I STILL beat him in a shooting game, and based on my performance I might be a starter for his team.

Keeping in mind, those are just the things I have said that I can readily recall.

In my world, what I said to Parker was merely conversation.

Today I'll look on Amazon for a sensitivity DVD.

Pinnter II

On Monday Pinnter got into a tiff with the Stella the bulldog .  Stella out weighs him by at least 70 lbs, but that never stops him.  The argument could have been over anything, a day before the inauguration my guess was something political, yet I have never known the bulldog to be drawn into those types of discussions.  It may have been a milk bone, it may have been over the Gaza Strip, I can't be sure. 

Her signature move is to use all her weight to pin her opponent,  and unless she is up against the white dog, or the boxer, it is pretty effective. 

So Pinnter was pinned and he continued to fight back when the white dog become involved. Most of the time the white dog will take the side of the more vulnerable animal, but this isn't the case with Pinnter- they hate each other.

I'm not certain how it started, but every time the white dog comes within ten feet of him, he shows her all his teeth.  I have no clue what he says to her, but suspect it's insulting.   The white dog is the most gentle animal I have ever encountered.  The cats curl around her to sleep, she is protective of the rabbits and chicken--she is sweet and loving- except to Pinnter.

Apparently, she had about enough of his shit, because she took his entire body in her mouth and threw him a couple of feet in the air- the white dog outweighs him by about 150lbs, so it wasn't exactly a fair fight.

The fight basically ended after Pinnter was air born, but the drama had just begun.

Although I tried to comfort him, he was inconsolable.  He refused to come into the house, until Gioconda went out and got him.  I was afraid he had a broken bone and tried to look at him and determine if there were any injuries, yet could not get within three feet.

He lunged at me twice before I concluded it was better to leave him alone.

After I left he jumped up on Gioconda's lap and slept the rest of the day.

With Pinnter I never know if he is on the brink of death or just really upset.

When he was a puppy he got a stomach bug, and would only eat orange popcycles for two weeks, and for the first week he refused to move, his body completely limp.  After three emergency visits to the vet, I was advised there was nothing really wrong with him and that perhaps he had some emotional issues.  

One time he slipped off the back of seat of the car and although I caught him before he touched the ground he wouldn't open his eyes for hours.

Last year he jumped up for me to catch him and I missed,  he hit his head on the ground.  He wouldn't look at me for three weeks, and barely ate for a month.

This isn't the first time he has had problems with the white dog, the last time he was would not let me touch him for at least three months.  

This time may even be worse.  He growls, turns his head when I try to talk to him, and refuses to eat anything I offer.  I was convinced this time he really was dying.

I tried all his favorites, vanilla ice cream, hot dogs, spaghetti with meat sauce, he won't touch any of it. 

He did drink some water today, and Gioconda got him to eat some Mighty dog.  I found out tonight he let Aidan pet him on Tuesday, and  he visited with two guys who were repairing a window- STRANGERS who came into the house to do a repair, and he was friendly. Apparently, when I'm not looking he is not only ambulating without trouble, he is walking up and down stairs.

Yet when I see him he lays flat on his side unresponsive to my attempts to interact.

" You need to accept he really hates you, and he's done with you," Gioconda said.  

We have a complicated relationship, yet at this point it feels somewhat abusive.  

  

 

Before...

Yesterday I had a conversation with an attorney who told me about a co-worker of hers who is a psychopath.  The stories were great, the woman claims she is soul mates with George Clooney (although not sure HE knows this), and she just got a lead in a movie.  She claims to have been in the military, and conducted covert actions as a navy SEAL.

She is an office clerk,  although she has made threats to take a gun, which she has access to, and kill herself in the building, she remains an employee as she works for a state agency. Apparently, this behavior is not enough to merit termination.

Honestly, this is really the only thing I miss the most of working in an office, because in every office there is that one person who has stories of other incarnations as a drug runner,  snow board Olympian, or shrimp boat captain.  At first the tales of a life before subjected to making sure there is enough photocopy toner are accepted, yet it isn't long before you do the math, and accept it to be improbable that a person could have a career which spanned competing as a monster truck driver, a professional scuba diver and the assistant to the head file clerk in the asbestos claims department.

I don't miss the politics of working among others and the inevitable petty competitions, yet there are times I just want to hear a really good story about traveling through eastern Europe as a competitive poker player, before giving it all up to live a more modest life in West Covina as a Walmart greeter. 

I understand and accept the innate dangers which go along with these people, as at some point there will be a disaster in the life of this individual which will require a "loan",  for which you will never be repaid, and when the person comes to work one day showing off the multicolored tattoo which covers the entire back, you will feel resentment.  It is one of the pit falls, but in the end, worth the investment.

I'm envious of these people.   I tend to play down any of my "accomplishments",  yet I remain proud of my stint as a fighter pilot...that was before I was a jockey.

Foot Spa

When I was about thirteen I stepped on a piece of glass and cut the bottom of my left foot directly in the middle.

As a result of this injury I lost sensation in my two middle toes, this along with the fact the scar remains sensitive is the reason I really don't enjoy a foot massage.   In truth, I really don't enjoy body massage all that much either, yet it is tolerable, that is,until they reach my left foot.

Gioconda loves to get massaged, and a woman (who is actually outstanding) comes to our house every other week to give her a massage, but for her, once every 14 days is simply not enough.

Eight months pregnant with twins, her legs and feet have become swollen, as a result she frequently requests I rub her legs and feet.  The only thing I like less than getting a massage, is giving a massage.

At the end of a long day, the last thing I want to do is rub her feet, and I know this sounds insensitive, yet I can't help myself- I don't like to rub people...even people I love.

Today she was suppose to get a massage, which translates into my being off the hook tonight; unfortunately the massage therapist could not make it, which translates into me being so on the hook tonight.

So this afternoon after lunch we took a trip to "foot spa".  Located in strip malls in Asian neighborhood, a "foot spa" is a room with dim lights , lazy-boy recliners flat screen televisions playing what I think is a Vietnamese soap opera.

Although I have seen women massage therapist at the foot spa, most of the providers are Asian men, who seem to prefer a polyblend wardrobe.   The massage takes place through your clothing (thankfully) and lasts about an hour.    

These foot spa guys take their knuckles and really dig into the bottom of your foot, over and over.  By the end of the foot spa I'm being peeled off the wall.

By the end of today's session I had TMJ from clinching my jaw.

Most disturbing about foot spa is the fact I keep going.   My guy today smelled so much of cigarette smoke, he actually left a film of nicotine on my right shin.  

It's really the totality of the situation, the snow capped mountain scene back lit wall clock, the lack of natural fibers in the fashion choices of the workers, the combination smells of garlic, Palmals,  and vanilla lotion, which leaves me with the same conclusion every single time, I just don't like foot spa.

...but the question remains - do I not like it enough...

Brittany and Harvard

Julien has a friend he has known since kindergarten.  This kid now goes to Harvard, on a full scholarship, he finished an internship this  summer at Cal Tech, and this winter he is back in Boston, trying to keep up his 4.o average -- a 4.0 at Harvard.

Humble, yet confident, his parents both work at blue collar jobs, neither holds a college degree, and so it occurred to me- Where's their book?  Why aren't they on Oprah?

A few weeks back Brittany Spears mother was on the Today show schilling her book on raising children- REALLY?

Isn't Brittany the one who was recently taken out of her house on a stretcher after she locked herself in a bathroom with one of her toddlers and refused to come out- WITH A TODDLER-the toddler's whose father is a an  unemployed "rapper", who has several children with another woman,  in fact wasn't he the same guy who left that woman while she was pregnant with his child to be with Brittany.  I'm not sure what is worse, this scenario, or the fact I know so many details.

Although she seems to be doing better, it appears as though her hair has grown back since the ugly shaving incident,  there is still the issue with her younger sister and her teenage pregnancy, I'm  not sure what Brittany's mother has to say that I can possible utilize in rearing children....but there she was on the Today show - WITH A BOOK.

I have a piece of advise for her- DON'T NAME YOUR KID BRITTANY IF YOU DON'T WANT HER TO BE A WHORE.

I know, anyone can write a book, (except me) jurors from the (first) OJ trial wrote books..and we know the collective intellect of those people could not exceed room temperature... but still to have children who are examples of complete and utter dysfunction and are arguably the personification of everything that is wrong with this country (living a life of excess based on the over valuation and subsequent over compensation of marginal talent and/or abilities) is a bold move.

There she was...with Matt Lauer-- and somewhere in the world there is a person who is going to spend time to actually read her thoughts...I suppose I could read it and then do the opposite.

Although Brittany has economic success, she is an absolute wing nut who has dragged innocent children into her crazy circus existence. Perhaps I will buy this book and while I'm at it pick up a copy of W's book on How to Find Weapons of Mass Destruction.

Kanye West's mother also wrote a book - before she died as a result of complications of elective plastic surgery-perhaps she would have been better served to have just listened to the 27 plastic surgeons who advised her she was a poor candidate for (ELECTIVE) surgery prior to finding the one who would  do the 8 hour surgery on her- again, not sure what kind of advise she has to provide ( admittedly I'm not impressed with "rappers"- which appears to me to be someone who can talk fast to the music someone else has written) yet I remain relatively certain whatever she has to say isn't anything I 'm really interested.  I do have some post mortem advise for her though- WRITE LESS LISTEN MORE-

Give me a book about how to raise a kid who goes to Harvard on a full scholarship - and I'll buy it AND the CD in which you read it to me.  The world is full of bad advise  (after the plane hit the first tower, those in the second tower were advised to stay put...keep your money in the market...) A suggestion,  don't buy a book for a erroneous  directives- just ask your own family.

Progressive Disappointment

Gioconda told me tonight that my blogs haven't been so funny...and that yesterdays blog really wasn't funny at all...

"Most of the time you have at least one, maybe two funny things, but lately...not so much," she said.

Not so funny...really?

Maybe its because I read my statement from Smith Barney yesterday and I had some money in the market and now- well, "not so much"...but then again, I always have my properties...oh ya, property isn't worth anything either...or maybe I remembered that the State is going to give me a voucher instead of a refund this year- but I still have to pay my property tax based on the price I paid for the house  AT THE TOP OF THE MARKET...or I'll think about he cost of private schools for (not one but two) pending children, which literally gives me a brain freeze.

None of this stuff bugs Gioconda, she always thinks everything is going to work out- and mostly it does- but still I simply don't trust her optimism.   

In May while Gioconda and the boys were in Hawaii (and I stayed at home-- it just works better that way for everyone) I went (by myself, in the middle of a business day) to the San Manuel casino.

I played a progressive machine, and the jackpot was over 3 million.  In order to win the progressive jack pot the wild symbol had on the first line which was 6 across.   So it spins and the first line-1-wild 2-wild 3-wild 4-wild 5- wild --the last reel still spinning - and then- not wild.

So although this may not be accurate, it felt like I almost won 3 million-- but I didn't- instead I won $243.00, which is not really even a consolation prize...in fact I found it almost insulting.

The problem is - I can't get this out of my head.  This happened last May and STILL I think about it every few days.  I mean, its gotten better...the first week it was waking me up at night...like a sudden pain in my side...and I think it made me throw up once, but over time its gotten less - but its still there. Now it just creeps up on me, when I see a commercial for a terrific vacation destination, or I am doing something I really especially hate- which is more frequent than you can imagine...that's when it gets me...a little water torture.

As Gioconda points out to me, we are very fortunate, we certainly have more than most, we are able to meet our obligations..BUT STILL 3 million would have been pretty fucking nice.

When I worked at Liberty Mutual a group of people who worked in the same building - on the same floor won the lottery together- and then I knew I would never win- I mean what is the statical probability of winning the lottery to begin with, then factor in the probability of two people in the same building ON THE SAME floor winning the lottery-  it is virtually impossible- but I accepted it and have lived with this harsh reality for over 10 years now...but this...so close..but not even close...this has haunted me. 

So, over all...the fact that I have been funny a couple of times since May of 2008, in spite of this profound disappointment...I would call that a significant accomplishment.

Baby Stuff

On Sunday  we had our baby shower.  We had it set for early December, and then (on my suggestion) moved it until mid-January.  What I wasn't considering was how uncomfortable Gioconda would be or that she could possibly be on bed rest- or even in the hospital having the babies- thankfully - she made it.

I really dislike being the center of attention,  and so I was literally praying she would be make it to the shower.

It was a terrific event, and we got a ton of really great stuff- stuff I had no idea existed until a few days ago.   Gioconda did the research and created the registry, not only would I have no idea what we needed, or how many - but I would have no clue how to choose the best wash tub- or bottle warmer.  Gioconda has preferences about such things- I mean, I know we need things - but had no idea how long we would spend determining if we wanted a stroller which has side by side seats as opposed to front and back- after a great deal of debate- we went for side by side, I would estimate we spent no less than 20 hours on this decision.  My time goes for $65.00 an hour, this decision cost us $1300.00- JUST IN MY TIME.

At this rate, these babies are going to run us into the low 6 figures in billable hours by the time they hit pre school- I mean, what kind of time commitment are we looking at figuring out a potty seat, or trike. 

Its all so much more complicated than I had imagined...all the equipment - what equipment to buy...how to use the equipment.  

All of it overwhelms me - and they aren't even here yet-I can't imagine when I have to try to keep two babies alive on top of all this other stuff.

Marly and Me

The first time I saw the movie "300" was in a theatre.  Since the initial viewing, I have watched it at least 20 more times on cable.  A adaptation of a graphic fictional novel, it retells of the Battle of Thermopylae.

This movie is felony violent.  I'm not sure how many gory deaths occur, and I'm not sure a person could count.  Beheading, loping off of limbs, disembowelment, it is two solid hours of killing and bloodshed.  Yet every time I have the opportunity, I watch it- and it doesn't matter what part of the movie I tune in on, beginning middle or end- because it is essentially all the same...unmitigated, pure, unadulterated brutality.

Tonight Gioconda decided we should go see a funny movie- her choice "Marley and Me".

As I sit here and write this I am utterly and completely emotionally wiped out.  Although I'm not going to give away the end...lets just say it is about a family and a dog...a dog who gets OLD...I knew it was coming, and  tried to focus my attention on how repulsed I am by Owen Wilson's twisted nose  (how the hell is that guy a leading man...name one actress who has a severe facial disfigurement that even compares to this guy's shnoz- its painful to look at- the thing goes beyond deviated septum and I won't even get into his teeth- summer teeth- some are here -some are there.  Tommy Lee Jone's face looks like someone put out a fire with an  ice pick- and he is considered sexy...REALLY?).

I cried - I cried more at the end of this movie than I did when we buried Joe's ashes. Granted I cry easily-in fact I don't attend funerals, even if it someone I didn't know- because I will cry- and sometimes uncontrollably- yes, something is seriously wrong.

In any event, it occurred to me - that I would rather see hundreds of (adult) people killed, than to see the death of one (even old) animal...and I am using the word animal, as in non-human - which I could limit to non-reptile organisms- I'm ok with a snake, lizard or alligator getting creamed - but it better not have fur or even feathers.

Arguably, the movie "300" has fantastical characters and thus does not seem grounded in reality, yet even in movies in which the violence is realistic I would much rather see the death of a (adult) human - I would rather watch the D-Day scene in "Saving Private Ryan" a thousand times rather than see a dolphin even caught in a fishing net. 

Clearly, I over identify with animals - that is a given- and although I do enjoy a good boxing match- I don't consider myself a violent person...I won't break up a fight between the boys - as many times I'm just curious as to who will win- but if the dogs get into a tiff-I'm all over it...without a moments hesitation I'll risk a bite to get them off each other. 

I would write more about this- but my eyes are swollen- and I'm so emotionally exhausted - I really need to lay down.

Runaway Timmy

The summer before I was to be a Junior in high school I worked at a school where my dad was the principal.  This particular school had both children with learning challenges and children without learning challenges- and to be honest I could never really tell the difference.

I mean, if a kid was in a wheel chair and blowing into a straw to steer it I could tell- but unless it was really apparent- I didn't know- but mostly I didn't care.

There was a kid who would run away and hide every single day- Timmy was his name- (by the end of the summer I called him Runaway Timmy)-anyway, Timmy takes off the first day dad my dad tells me to go an find him-

"Look in closets, under tables, under sinks, he really could be anywhere," he said.

"How will I know him?," I asked.

"Oh, you'll know him when you see him," he responded.

So I go off searching for him, and it is an indoor school, but this little fucker could run out of a door into the street- get hit by a bus- my dad looses his job- I loose my job- and there goes my plan for the summer - which was to learn to type while pretending to work for my dad . Learning to type was a lofty goal- but I have always aimed high.

It took me about an hour to find him - on a shelf in the cafeteria.  The next day he was on a swing on the playground- the next day the kindergarden girls bathroom-every day he found a new place.

" Who is suppose to be watching this kid anyway?" I asked.

"He's as quick as a little bunny," my dad responded.

What was abdunantly clear to me was Runaway Timmy needed to be tethered.  Granted Timmy was challenged (down syndrome) and I understood- even in my youth- I should be sympathetic- but by the end of the summer- I hated his guts.

In fairness, Timmy hated me just as much.

Opportunistic,  he would find the right moment when the teacher's attention would be diverted to make a break for it, my dad would find me - at the typewriter- and give me the daily directive.

I would begin my search- and although some days it took me longer than other days - I always found him.

 Fast and wily, once he was onto the fact I was the person who was there to capture him he would run from me- which meant I had to chase him- and it is embarrassing to have a down syndrome third grader kick your ass in a foot race-  I had to develop a strategy.

It was at this point the search and rescue became a covert operation.  I couldn't out run Timmy, but I was relatively confident I could out wit him.

One particularly hot summer day Timmy bolted just before school was to be let out for the day.

Although it would have been prudent for Timmy to hide inside an air conditioned building, he simply did not want to make it easy for me.   Through the heat vapors raising off the play ground I spied him on sitting at the top of the slide.

Luckily he was preoccupied, and I was able to sneak up the steps behind him.  

"I got you Timmy, and now we are going to slide down together," I said.

"NO...NO...," he shouted, and tried to bite my right thumb.

Since I had size on my side I grabbed him around the middle and pushed off.

Although I have never actually felt the sensation of molten lava on the back of my legs,  it is quite possible what I experienced was very close.  Since the slide was in the process of returning to its original metal state it was not slippery, this coupled with the fact our legs were adhering to the surface, it took about 3 hours for us to reach the ground.

Timmy was hysterical as I walked him back into the class room.

"I told you no...I told you no," he repeated over and over.

"So you were right," I finally said.

"But if you runaway again, we're taking another ride," I added.

I spent the remainder of the summer learning to type.

 

Bar Exam and Babies

When I decided to go to law school most everyone I told had almost the exact same thing to say.

"The California bar is really difficult..." and then there are the stories- 

Editors note: Although I 'm placing these statements in quotes the following are not direct quotes per se; however, in order to make this blog more interesting ( as opposed to interesting at all) I  am utilizing dramatic license.

"I once knew a guy who took it 72 times and the last time he took it he went home and died of a heart attack- and the worse part is that time he passed- but it didn't matter because he was dead."

" I knew a lady who studied so hard her brain imploded and shot out her right eye. The worse part is no one found her for weeks and by then her cat, who was obviously starving had eaten off her left foot....so now she has no brain, no left foot, is blind in her right eye,  feels betrayed by her cat...and she failed the multistates by 4 questions."

Multistates- or multiple guess -- four answers - some are more correct - or least correct- as in "please pick the most least incorrect answer"- ( and that is a direct quote).

It was difficult- and I studied really hard to pass - and had I not passed, it was a possibility - perhaps a probability- after all the studying I did that I was not able to pass- its the worse part- thinking you might not be able to do something- (yes, worse than having your foot eaten by a cat because you can get one of those robo feet that make you run faster).

Couple not being confident you can pass with about 80k in student loan debt -- the stress of taking the bar exam - for me- was something I simply can not articulate in English- and since I speak no other language- I am left with interpretive dance- and everyone knows I can't dance.

But I did pass- through some act of God- or Buddha -- or angel on my shoulder (please note if I had not passed the fault would have been all mine- but I did pass so I will not take credit for it).   My ears didn't bleed, no one used a defibrillator on me during the test  (that I recall), I walked out upright...I did survive.

 

In any event, it was tough- but having people tell you something is going to challenge you doesn't make it less of a challenge.

I would say at least 3/4 of the people I tell we are having twins say the same thing:

Get a lot of sleep now, because you won't be sleeping for  (very long time- 6-12 months- the rest of your life...) a varied time frame.

I understand having one baby is not easy- and I am sure having two is harder- maybe even much -much harder-and maybe I will never sleep again and I will become non functional and all the terrible things that follow non-functionability.... WILL happen.

However, it occurs to me - that although I am old- I am not the first person in this vast universe to have twins--and if it is so horrible- then wouldn't it be outlawed- and if not outlawed REALLY discouraged.

I never felt discouraged to have children until I told people I was having children- when I wasn't a potential parent -- it was all about the love you didn't even know was possible to feel-- but the second you tell someone you are having a child- it becomes about how how your life will morph into something you can't recognize- waiting lists for pre-school I should look into- the best rehab facilities...

( I find this same phenomenon when buying/selling real property- the property you are buying is ALWAYS more desirable than the property you are selling- which translates into; bring a full price offer to buy- but be flexible on your price in selling).

Think about taking the LSAT ( the test to get into law school) and the world is your cheerleader- go to law school and you start to hear the horror stories about exploding organs - limitless debt and THE BAR EXAM...everyone knows someone who has taken it at least 7 times...

When you don't have children- the world is so sorry for you - as you are vapid and your life has no true meaning-- have children and its learning disabilities, autism- blind, deaf- mute-SIDS emotional detachment - NO SLEEP-

I know I am also guilty of this nameless crime- I've done it-and it should be a felony- 

So from now on- whenever I am told a plan- whatever it may be- (even a plan  involving three million dollars in South Africa which will be yours if you only deposit $75,000.00 into an off shore account- which you learned about from an e-mail written to you by a British man named Alexander Kingston) I am committed- 

I will smile and say- that sounds terrific.

Beginners Luck

Yesterday I went (in the middle of a business day) to the Commence Casino.   It is a card club, which I have driven by about a million times in my life- but never imagined I would ( in the middle of a business day on a TUESDAY) find myself inside.

About a week ago I discovered a new card game- 3 card poker.  Unfortunately, I really liked it - and the first time I played I was very lucky.

The dealer told me to enjoy it because I would most likely never be that lucky again-well, at least not at 3 card poker.

I won't say it felt like an all time low to be at a card club mid day mid week- but it wasn't my finest hour- and to make it worse- the dealer was right - not so lucky the second time around.  I console myself with the fact that I didn't drink- but really only because I was driving-- because otherwise I so would have chugged down at least three beers.

I enjoy all the bad things in life and then feel guilty about it.  

My friend Heather, who is three months pregnant (I add this just to make her seem a little more decadent than I am- but this is mitigated by the fact I left my spouse who is pregnant with twins), was amazingly lucky.    Heather is what I would call a high roller, but then again I am certainly not the arbiter of "rollers".  Its fun to  be with someone who really bets.  Heather is wildly successful in business, so she has it to gamble-- but what about all the others in the place?

It was packed at 3pm on Tuesday afternoon, and these people were serious.  One guy kept throwing his cards when he got a bad hand like in - there goes the rent - there goes the braces for my kids legs- kind of way.

What I would like to know...and I mean this sincerely- why do Asians LOVE to gamble?

I counted five Anglo's, Heather and me, the cocktail waitress, a (what I think may have been) a pit boss (a guy in a bad tux named Leonard) and a red haired dealer named Silvia who informed us- while she was dealing- that,"... this place is a fucking shit hole to work in..." and that "...they are looking over my fucking shoulder all the fucking time..." .  I would call her disgruntled.  

Other than those five-- everyone else was Asian.

Secondly- where do they get all that dough?   That is really the part that gets to me- where do these people get all this money? Is there a secret Asian underground economy going on?  The world has imploded economically- but on a Tuesday afternoon - it is little Saigon  at the Commence Club. 

It is pure jealousy.  I tried to talk to Heather about it, but she was too busy winning....so I decided to get myself something to eat since my bank roll was gone- I had the BEST fried rice I have ever had in my life...  

Star F___er

I recently read Melissa Etheridge's blog about Rick Warren.  Apparently, she had a conversation with Rick Warren and has come to the conclusion he may be misunderstood.

REALLY?

If there is one thing I HATE it is when people tell me that I have not seen or heard something I have seen or heard.  People I live with- teenagers- try to do this to me all the time- I didn't take the wine opener-it wasn't in my room where you found it- with the empty ($50.00) bottle of a very nice zin- no that didn't happen-

I watched the interview with Ann Curry- and I think I have a pretty good idea where he is at in regard to my civil rights- I did not misunderstand.

Rick Warren kissed the rock star's ego, and she fell right into his arms.

Rick Warren's conversation with a famous rock star doesn't make him misunderstood - it makes him a star fucker.

I don't understand how Gay people are not completely pissed about the choice of Rick Warren- it is nothing short of a spit in the face by the President elect- and it is a strong message of how he will be treating us in the next 4-8 years- Obama is no better than Rick Warren-- but since Gay people are used to licking the ass of any politician who doesn't hate us in 4 years this community will once again get behind this traitor to our cause.

Honestly, I would rather have McCain- because at least he was honest- we would get nothing from him- and he couldn't have been worse than Bush- but now we have been lied to - we all drank the kool aid - I will NEVER vote for Obama again- I would rather not vote.

In the meantime, please don't insult me Melissa Etheridge - I know who these people are - in this country there is a separation of church and state- and this is fundamental- so those who vote to eliminate my rights based on their religious views are not misunderstood - they are clear in their intentions.

New Year

I have always believed that Birthdays and New Years are good for us- its a restart- a chance to begin again- 

Each year on my birthday I make a list of things I hope to do in the next 364 days prior to my next birthdate- but this year I decided to skip it- mostly because it always depresses me when I discover I have done (typically) NOTHING on my list- some years its not a bad thing- like the year I decided I should buy an ocean whaler- but being the way I am- and that is another blog- not reaching set forth goals is discouraging.

But today is New Year- and although I am tempted to start my list - I have decided to switch it up a bit and this year I will make a list of things I will NOT do.

1. I'm not going to watch a movie with subtitles.  I live with a person who speaks Spanish and understands Spanish as well as she speaks and understands English-- so movies in Spanish are not "foreign" to her.  I don't speak Spanish- thus, movies in Spanish are still foreign to me.

2. Along this same line, I'm not going to say- " Whatever you chose on Netflicks is fine", because its not fine.  If the budget for the film is not over 10 million- we are not ordering it.

3. I will not take a ativan (and then proceed to drink 2 or maybe 3 margaratias) at a party for my sister-in-law's (or any friend or family) boyfriend.  I have to keep track of twins this year and I can't be wandering around Old Town Pasadena with vomit on my shirt (I am confident it was my vomit).

4.  If any person (even a health care provider) says anything about Gioconda's weight I will not say- " We have been eating a lot of fast food.".

5. I will not worry and/or fret that I have too many (animals) or not enough (money) of anything.

6. I will not allow a day to go by without kissing Gioconda.

7.  I will not forget how thankful I am every day:

That my family has their health,  and that although our families are very different (Des Moines and Nicaragua) we all come together to celebrate the big (and small) events of our lives. 

That Gioconda is the type of person who is willing to endure 2 years of fertility treatments- and significant heart ache to have  (not one but) two babies.

That I am glad I have the big white dog, even though Pinnter hates her.

And, that I live with people who keep my life interesting- and give me something to write about every day. EVERYDAY.

This is most likely more than I can not do over the next year- but as always - I will try.