June 27, 2009
Last night, we went to the Drive-in to see Transformers 2 and Star Trek. We Should’ve known better than to actually plan this, because poor Mark had to leave to get up early to go to work this morning. So, we took two cars. There was a whole crew of us and I saw that you were allowed to have pets there as long as you cleaned up after them and they were on a leash and quiet.
Lesson #1: The hook things for dogs for your cars are JUNK. The idea is that you hook it to a harness, it’s a short leash and then it hooks to the seat. Yeah, well, it also hooks on to your dogs leg. It took us fifteen minutes, a lot of drama from an already dramatic dog and some sweat and tears–no blood, thank God. To wrestle the dog enough to get it off his back leg. It’s in the trash. Odee then got some loving from his daddy and my brother in the back of my van.
Lesson #2: If your battery dies once, it’ll die again. And it did. Right at the very end of Star Trek, it died. I need to buy two items. A new battery and Jumper cables.
Loved hanging out with my brother, mom and our ‘extended’ family. Was sorry Mark had to leave us. Transformers was beyond awesome, but I think a movie like that is best watched in a theater. Star Trek was good. Admittedly, I am not a Trekkie, but it was good. I give it a B.
June 26, 2009
Incredulous is probably the word best used to describe the feeling when the Breaking-News was about the alleged death of Michael Jackson. The adult in me rolled my eyes and wondered if this was yet another publicity stunt or a way to regain attention while the teen in me recoiled. I heard my neighbors saying he’ll join Tupac & Biggie and I kind of chuckled, because Mark and I said he’d join Elvis and Jim Morrison of “The Doors”. This was before CNN confirmed it.
I saw some messages last night on Facebook from young adults my children’s ages who said they didn’t care that he died and the adult in me totally gets why. The teen in me wants to explain to them what a huge part Michael Jackson was in my life. And I’m struggling to find a comparable icon that my own children look up to–and sadly, there is no comparison. Although to be fair things have changed. I based this on how I used to drive my parents crazy by listening to Thriller album over and over and over again. I never got tired of it.
It’s a damned shame that my children only got to see the other side of Michael Jackson. The reclusive who wore masks, who named his children strange names like Prince Blanket and then dangled them over ledges. The one who was accused of child molestation and the one who had so many plastic surgeries on his nose that it didn’t look normal and he’d transformed himself from a handsome black man into this pale man who even I could barely look at. I’m not sure if it was the pressure of fame, his Peter-Pan syndrom or if like some people he’d take the attention anyway he could get it. But I really wish they could’ve known the MJ that everyone wanted to be. I remember boys in Jr. high and Highschool wearing the leather clothes, complete with a glove. I remember dancing my buns off to “Billie Jean”, “Beat It” and trying my best to learn the “Thriller Dance”. And who didn’t want to be a PYT? (Pretty Young Thing)
My mom asked me this morning if I still had his albums and I said yes, but there’s nothing to play them on. Besides, as much as I played “Off The Wall” and “Thriller” I’m not sure what they’d sound like now. One of the Pittsburgh Radio Stations is playing a remix of all his make-you-dance-in-your-chair-songs and I got teary eyed for the first time since I heard the news of his death. Because creepy-ness aside, it’s very sad and tragic that such a promising man–such a talented and amazing man’s life had to end the way it did. Maybe the teen in me wished he’d get his act together and come back and blow my kids away the way he did me with his music, lyrics and charisma.
Rest in Peace, Michael.
***
Farrah 
Fawcett’s death didn’t come as such a shock. We all knew she was sick and yes, I’ll admit I watched the special on NBC on her and I bawled. I wanted to be in “Charlie’s Angels.” I remember watching that show religiously. I had all of the dolls, their van and I would concote stories of kick-ass women out to save the day. Even though they were smaller than my Barbie’s, they could kick Ken’s ass on any given day and trust me, they did. I wanted Farrah’s hair. Who didn’t? I’m pretty sure I named a lot of characters–Barbie wise after her and I insisted my mom buy Breck because you just knew there was magic in that bottle–or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. I don’t even think later that any of the girls got upset when they saw or knew Farrah graced their boyfriends wall. She was beautiful even to the girls. At least, I don’t ever remember being jealous. And what a right of passage she was for the boys in the late 70s and 80s. Rest in peace, Farrah.
What a loss for the kids who grew up in the 80s. Two larger than life icons die on the same day. One expected and one that we’ll probably hear about for quite some time–whether fact or fiction.
June 19, 2009
From Free Will Astrology for the week of June 18th.
We ask that you not divulge the climax of the epic story to anyone — at least until you’ve let it sink in for a while and felt all the reverberations it has unleashed. After that, you’ll be wise to speak about it only with skilled listeners and empathetic allies who can help you harvest the meaning of all the clues that were packed inside your adventures. One further counsel: Before you reach the absolute, final denouement of the drama, there may be a tricky turn that looks a lot like the ending.
June 18, 2009
I have on many occassions and I know a lot of writing friends who have. Who are these people? Well, their family, friends and peers–although I honestly think that the peer saboteur hurts the most in this situation. So what do you do about it?
For me, going back to “Bird by Bird“ by Anne Lamott helps me a lot. If you haven’t read this book, by all means do. It’s instructions–hilarious instructions on Writing and Life. It’s written simply and I find myself going back to it every once and again. Today was no exception. There are two lines in one of the segments titled Jealousy that I go back too.
The first is: ” My deepest belief is that to live as if we’re dying can set us free. Dying people teach you to pay attention and to forgive and not to sweat the small things.”
And the second is, Hillel’s line: “I get up. I walk. I fall down. Meanwhile, I keep dancing.”
The way I plan to keep dancing today is by writing. I’m only in competition with myself. I refuse to stoop to their level and give them ammunition to hurt me. The hell of it is, the people who we think should be beside us and supporting us are often the ones who are the most destructive, if we let them.
June 11, 2009
In honor of the karmic clean-up phase of your astrological cycle, I invite you to do the following exercise: Imagine a pit in the middle of a desert that holds everything you’ve ever used up, spoiled, and outgrown. Your old furniture is here, along with stuff like once-favorite clothes, CDs, and empty boxes of your favorite cereal. But this garbage dump also contains subtler trash, like photos that capture cherished dreams you gave up on, mementoes from failed relationships, and symbols of defunct beliefs and self-images you used to cling to. Everything that is dead to you is gathered here. Got that vision in your mind’s eye? Now picture yourself dousing the big heap of stuff with gasoline and setting it on fire. Watch it burn.
If this isn’t something worth thinking about…I dunno what is. Ironically, before I read this, that was exactly what I was doing. Mulling over some things that happened today. They were minor in comparison, but the clean-up is definitely happening over here.
You can read your own over at Free Will Astrology.
June 10, 2009
I don’t know about the rest of you, but for me, the first week that school lets out is utter hell. Once Monday rolls around, my three children who I love with all my heart think it’s my responsibility to entertain them. To take them places, to make them not bored, to do what they want to do. Because school is out and they think that that’s the way it should be.
It’s my job to set them straight. 
(I’ve always wanted to use that smiley.)
I have to remind them hourly that while yes they’re on vacation, this is not a hotel. I am not their maid, their cook for elaborate lunches or their chauffer. I still have to work. Several jobs. They also need the word no redefined. No means no. It doesn’t mean bug me for forty-five minutes hoping I’ll say yes. And I do not owe you or your friends an explanation as to why I’m saying no. “Can we go–or do?” is usually responded with: “Have you done? Did you pick up?” Which let me tell you, they love.
I’m semi old school when it comes to raising them, but it works. When we went to the eye doctors, they had to venture on their own to pick out glasses. When the youngest and I were done with our exams, the one receptionist/tech looked at me and said, “I just have to compliment you on your children. They weren’t crazy. They’re polite. They were a pleasure.” After I thanked her profusely and we left, I looked at my kids and said “Thank you.” I explained that this is why I yell. This is why they get grounded and they were rewarded with McDonald’s and Dairy Queen.
But when we got home, the, “Can we go here or there started again.” 
It is getting better and easier, as the days go by. Now, if I could only get through to the dog. 
June 4, 2009
My children have one and a half days of school left. In some ways this is a good thing. In other ways, it’s going to hinder my writing. But the good news is, I can handle the late nights and sleep in a wee bit. So it’s all good.
This morning, on my last full eight-hours of freedom or kid-free-zone, my ten year old woke me up to show me his eye. Pink eye came in like a thief in the night and made camp in his eye. The poor kid cannot catch a break. It’s been sinus infections, migraines, poison oak and now pink eye in the last two months of school. He’s parked on the couch until his 1:30 pm appointment and may not be able to attend his last 1/2 day of school tomorrow. I’m hoping he can, but we’ll see what the doctor has to say.
How’s your day?
June 1, 2009
I can’t believe it’s June. Where’d May go?
I need more time. This is the kids last week of school. In some ways this is good and in other ways, not so much. This is the hang out place–the magical house. It’s not really, but some days I wonder why. When we had the smurf pot, I got it. Now, there’s nothing cool here, and yet they still come in droves to migrate on my porch or sidewalk. And they’re needy little suckers. They get hot and need water and koolaid or…popsicles What’s up with that? 
I don’t mind….most days.
So, I guess I need to make the most of this week and get r done. Does the summer change your schedule? How do you cope?
