Archive | March 2011


I shall put you all out of your misery and reveal which of my five stories were completly true.

While number 1 had some truth, the ending was all wrong.

Number 2 was all completlely correct…I picked up my cowboy in a bar. I have never lived that down. He loves to tell that story…me pickin him up…yea…its all true though…I’m not real patient…if you want me, you gotta make the move..or I sure will…haha. Fun time.

The third one has bits of truth in that we did used to go to that park and I was hyper vigiilant with my son…he got no where near that pond without being attached to me however….

The Rick Springfield has bits too…we did love him so…we were obsessed. We did travel around a bit followed his bus, touched his shoe when he was on stage…saw 15 concerts…all great…but didn’t try to take over a hotel to get to him and never saw him off stage.  We were kids…we had parents with us…lol.

Oh and the one about Dexter was a blatant lie. We rarely took walks, but he was a perfect dog. He was MY dog. Loyal to a fault. Stayed with me when i was ill, guarded us all. Always there to show me his Elvis snarl…oh yea..he had one…lovely dog he was. I love him so much. There will never be another Dex.  But he was mine for 15 years, and they were precious to me.

Thanks to all the guesses…hope I got you all emailed….or this gives the answers. Should this occurr again I will read how others are going about it and go in same style…I was a bit of a rogue on this one…but it was still fun and i enjoyed reliving some memories that I hadn’t thought of in a bit.

Thanks to anyone who takes a minute to read my ramblings…they tend to go everywhere these days…I go in spurts, no blogging, then bloggine twice a day…I also journal so alot of it goes there instead of here….I hope my family reads al this chatter after I’m gone…get to know their real mom….the loony as bats crazy woman…who had a life before…I wasn’t alway a sickie, stuck in the bed, whining about a plethora of pains, complaining about what is not getting done…nope. I was a woman. I loved life. I was strong. I was cute. I was needing love. I needed acceptance. I worried about the world, I was free to move from jobs to jobs and flounder about…until I had kids…then It settled down. It was grown up time….I did it fairly well, while still trying to keep a social life and friends, but still be the best mom I can be.

I love talking about my life…there are lots of stories and dramas that haven’t been put to paper yet….I will keep goin…rambling and out of order and context though it may be….you will eventually get to know the real ME.  See past the pain. Look at who I was and who I may have been had things turned out differently…I wonder…..every night. What coulda been?

pain or PAIN?


Wow.  I can absolutely not get a day off from pain.  I usually gage my days as normal pain and bad pain days…But the past two days have completely slapped me in the face with another level of pain…one I have definitely experienced before, back in 2005 and 6 when my intestines were on the outside of my body….the pain there has been a constant one, varying with different movements, levels of breathing, foods I eat, etc.  This pain, this PAIN…has me unable to move, breathe or eat.

My abdomen feels as if there is a wildfire burning thru my entire right side, with an occassional piercing knife jab here and there.  It’s hurting me so badly just to lay here in bed with the computer on my lap.  Not moving at all.  Why? All I’ve eaten today is a potato and a yogurt.  But I think it could be still from the Burritto I ate yesterday, I don’t know for sure though.

With all these adhesions and scar tissue, my intestines have strictures…so they are very narrow in spots, and perhaps glued almost together in areas.  They are pasted to my liver for sure, and I believe thats where alot of the pain is coming from too…but who knows.  I only know that I’m hurting…alot.  I’m scared.  Your intestine can perforate from the pressure when foods don’t go thru easily, mine moreso than others because of the issues, I am also at risk of “Toxic megacolon” due to all my problems and medications…where your colon becomes huge and poison seeps thru the intestinal wall into the bloodstream.  Severe obstruction and ischemia are also included in this nightmare of possibilities.

I have no real options.  My abdomen is “inoperable” the doctors have told me. Nothing they can do, as there is no abdominal wall and it’s just all “too messy” in there.  So what?  So I just suck it up? Just keep eating medications?  This is ridiculous.  If I had one of my other organs go bad they can put a new one in…and then I’d be up jogging like new…but because some butcher of a doc went in there and wreaked havoc…I have no recourse? No way of hoping for a normal life?  Pretty much.

But I am now praying for a normal pain or even a bad pain day…cuz tonights PAIN is more than I can take.  It’s really freaking me out and I’m hoping if I tell the nurses at tomorrows Pain Clinic visit can help me out…I dunno if they will order another scan or what…just had one not too terribly long ago…in fact just paid it off…God.  What a mess.  Back to praying I guess…hope someone is listening.

MeMeTastic Award!

Today I received the MeMetastic blog award from my cyberfriend  Laurie Fessler of http://hibernationnow.   Come play with us and try to discern which of my 5 posts is completely true. Many have bits of truth in them but there is one that is totally true. Can you tell which one it is? Post your comments and thoughts and I will reveal the answer very soon.

There are a few rules that go along with the privilege/honor:

1. Proudly display the award in a post.

2. Post 5 tales about yourself; 4 must be made-up and one true. Now, there can be elements of truth in all the stories. Adding to the fun of creating these self-tales, is that readers can guess (and post in comments) which of the 5 they think is ALL true.

3. Pass the award along to 3 other deserving bloggers. I pick Regan at, Java at, and Jamie at

Here we go:

     1.)  When I was around six-years old I was at the local roller-dome.  We used to go there skating atleast once a week since I was a toddler.  I was an excellent skater!  Whether it be a slow roll around the rink or speed skating…I was in!  This one particular evening, I think it was a Friday or Saturday, because it was jam packed with skaters.  I was rolling around outside the actual rink, over by where you rent your skates or get snacks or sit and watch area.  I vividly remember feeling happy…exhilerated even! 

 I loved being there, the sounds…the smells…the people, plus I just loved being away from home having fun!  Anyway, there I was, this skinny as a stick (yes, I WAS skinny as a stick then! ;)), long golden blond hair, big brown eyes…missing my two front teeth, rolling thru, not paying attention where I was rolling, because I was busy people watching, and BAM I slammed straight into a pillar that was just suddenly there.  An old man came over and helped me up. I was so embarrassed I felt like I just wanted to dissappear!  I rolled to the bathroom and stayed there til my face turned the proper shade of normal skin.

 Needless to say, I paid better attention to where I was rolling after that evening!

    2.)  One night I was really bored.  I had nothing to do and no one to do it with.  I found out my three uncles, mom and dad were all going to go to an area American Legion to see a live band and have a few drinks, so as lame as that sounds, I decided to go.  I was young, single, not ugly…so of course I primped before leaving the house, not alot…just some light make-up, a little extra time on my hair, a pretty green and black sweater and just tight enough black jeans…and black boots.

  So, I was lookin pretty good I thought and then it was confirmed by my neighbor, who is male and a pretty good friend, when he came to the door right before I left and went “Damn girl! You’re looking extra fine tonight!”  Anyway, I went and met up with the family at one of their houses, and we all piled into a van and headed to the Legion.  We walked in, and literally everyone in the bar turned and stared at us as we walked into the place.  Of course we all came in as a group, so that coulda been why, but perhaps it was partially because my mom and I were both a tad more “gussied up” compared to the other people that were there.  We all sat down at one of the long tables and got our drinks and started enjoying the band. 

 During the evening we all would talk, get up and dance, and laugh.  Having a good time.  I saw a guy come walking across the floor carrying a tray of drinks for his table of friends.  He was tall, had longish-curly hair, and had on a pair of cowboy boots.  Do not ask me why, but I just find a man in cowboy boots to be slightly sexy…lol.  So, being the vigilant young single woman I was, used my super-vision and followed him to his table.  I caught his eye…he definitely smiled back…but this went on for atleast an hour, and he never would come up and ask me for a dance!  It was getting rather annoying…why? Was I too ugly? He didn’t seem to be with a female, no ring in sight…so what was the deal?

  I got up and walked over there and said “Do you like to slow dance?” he replied “Yea, I do.” So, I said “Great, next time a slow song comes on, come and get me!” Then I went back to my table and sat back down and continued chatting with my family.  Then…it happened, a slow song started, and he got up, came to the end of the table and waited. Duh. He totally didn’t know what he was doing. So I got up and we hit the dance floor. We were talking, and dancing, and he says “So, are one of those guys at that table your husband?” I laughed and said “God no! They’re my family! Why would I approach you and eyball you all night if I was with someone?” He said, I don’t know, but when a woman is at a table with a bunch of guys I can’t just start hittin on her!”

 We ended up talking the rest of the night, he even lived thru the third-degree by my entire family.  That’s when I knew, this guy was gonna be my husband.  We’ve been together ever since.

     3.)  On a sunny day when my son was about two-years old, he and I took a drive to the local park.  I had packed up a little lunch of PB&J (his fave), chips, cauliflower and  a cookie for each.  I found a big shady tree to sit under, which was close to a fishing pond and a set of swings was also nearby.  Jeremy was and still is a good kid. Fairly easy to control…so as I was spreading out the blanket and getting the food out, I felt confident he would stay by my side.

  I’m one of those “hyper-vigilant” parents, you know, don’t let your kid out of your sight for one second types? So, as I was getting set up I kept sayin, “Just stand right here by mommy Jeremy, don’t move…Good boy…just stay right here.”  Well, in that split second he was gone!  I whirled around looking in every direction, he was nowhere to be seen.  I couldn’t breathe.  My heart was in my throat.  The only thing in my head was “THE WATER!”

  I ran to the pond, without stopping, ran right INTO the water…the whole time screaming to the few people who were around, “MY BABY! MY BABY IS DROWNING!!!”  Until, suddenly, a man yells “MISS! Is this him?”  I spun around, as well as one can while waist deep in water, and there at waters edge, standing with a short, stout older man…was my boy.  With a worried look on his face, and says “Mommy, you say stay way frwum da wadder.”  So I took my first breath in what seemed like an hour, trudged thru water back to land, picked him up, thanked the gentleman, went back to the picnic spot and held onto Jeremy’s arm with one hand, while packing up with the other. 

 I got us into our car.  Started driving down the street, and burst into tears.  From the backseat Jeremy says “It’s awwite mommy, you tan swim adin amorro!”

     4.)  When I was fifteen years old I had a huge crush on Rick Springfield.  A friend and I would travel around to see him in concert.  Saying we were fans of  his would be like saying the sky is blue.  It was our life…loving Rick Springfield.  Our rooms were covered with his posters, our stereos had his albums spinning, we wore tshirts with his gorgeous face on them, we had pillowcases with him and giggled when we said we were “sleeping with Rick” each night. 

 When he came on the tv we would literally drop to our knees and scream while staring at the screen.  At one concert in Michigan, we were determined to find his hotel.  We did all the leg-work and found it.  He was at the Hilton, close to the airport.  We sat in our car and hatched our plan.  We were gonna be IN his room by nights end.  Now do not get the wrong idea, in no way was our desire sexual…it was just…more than we could handle to think of being within three foot of him…we just wanted to BE with him.  So, that evening we went to the hotel, and after a bit of chat with the hotel employees and some snooping, we found the employee breakroom which had a changing area. 

 We got in there and put on the housekeeping uniforms, and grabbed a linen cart and headed to the elevators.  As we did, the front desk worker said, “Hey! You two know you’re sposed to use the private elevators to take that up!” So, we mumbled our understanding and headed around the corner, to where we didn’t know, but then we saw it, a different type elevator, we decided that must be what he was talking about. 

 We pushed the button marked PH.  We were giddy with excitement, we had a plan to get into his room…and get his autograph, and if all went well a giant hug!  Our blood was pumping wildly, both our faces glowing red with the excitement of it all!  The elevator doors open. There. Standing with atleast five other people was…RICK Springfield!  He smiled and said “Oh, I’m sorry, excuse me…let me help you pull that outta there…” We stood there with our mouths agape, speechless…while our heart-throb himself pulled that big ole linen cart out of the elevator.

  As it cleared the door of the elevator, the doors slid shut…the last thing I saw was Ricks face as he turned back to see us still standing there with the doors closing.  We turned to each other and started screaming and crying, we were hysterical.  We started punching buttons on the elevator wildly…not even thinking that it would lock up the elevator.  Which it did. It came to a screeching halt and alarms went off.  We had to be “rescued” by hotel maintenance, who were none to pleased about it, nor were the supervisors of the hotel.  They threatened to have us arrested, but ended up letting us go with a harsh lecture.

  We got in our car and we went to the concert, we were in the pit and when Rick came out on stage, we were there…screaming his name with our arms stretched out and by the second chorus of “Jesse’s Girl” he had bent down and touched our hands! That was as close to “being with Rick” we ever got…but it was all we needed.

     5.)  It was a hot and humid August day.  I was out walking my dog, Dexter.  We would walk each afternoon around 4pm.  Just before dinner had to get underway.  We walked a trail at a park near our house.  It was shady, but that didn’t help on this particular day.  The humidity was unbearable.  Our walks usually lasted about an hour, so I didn’t take any water or anything with us, we just headed out. 

 This was before everyone and their mother carried cell phones, so I didn’t have one.  We were about a half an hour into the walk when as we were rounding a corner on the path I tripped over a root in the ground from one of the huge oak trees that were in the park.  I hit the ground HARD. My knees hit first, then my head hit the ground with a sickening thud.  I woke up to the sound of my dog whimpering.  I opened my eyes as he was licking my face.  I was trying to figure out what was going on, why I was on the ground? I tried to get up, but pain ripped thru my back, knees and head.

  I couldn’t stand up.  Tears welled up in my eyes as I began to cry, but I couldn’t even do that due to the pain, taking a deep breath was excruciating…the pain felt like it was thru my middle spine clear thru my rib-cage.  I must have broke my back was all I could think.  I tried to call out to anyone that might be around, but couldn’t make a sound more than a grunt.  Dexter kept crying and barking, and nudging me with his nose.

 I reached out to touch him, but it too caused more pain than I could stand.  I couldn’t think strait. How can I get up? I need to get up and get to a hospital. I knew that it was silly but I thought if only I could get out the words “Dexter, go get help!” Maybe he could do it, just like Lassie and get us help from home.  Looking back I know I didn’t believe that dogs could even do that, it was just Hollywood… not something a normal everyday dog could do.

  I said in what couldn’t have been more than a whisper, “Dex, go home…go home Dex!” He kept circling me, but wouldn’t leave. I tried again to get up, but that wasn’t happening.  I knew being a nurse, that maybe I had ruptured a disk in my spine from the fall, that could explain the pain I was having.  I knew my family would be expecting me by no later than 6pm.  But would they come looking for me? Or perhaps they would assume we had stopped off at a friends house as we sometimes did?  How long would I lay here?  It was still so hot, I was sweating just laying still on the ground.

 I tried again to get Dex to “go home” and this time, after again nudging me and licking my face, he left!  I lay there wondering, is he going to go home? Will he get hit by a car? Will someone steal him? Will he get lost? If he does go home, will anyone be there? What will they think? Will they remember where my trail was?  After what seemed an eternity I heard the sound of footsteps and my husbands voice yelling my name…I still couldn’t make much noise, but I did what I could to make myself noticed, and then there was Dexter! He was running all around me barking wildly! Not far behind was Jim.

 He said he had been sitting out back on the patio, when Dex came running around the back of the house.  He was whining and whimpering, and kept running up to Jim and then back to the corner of the house.  Jim said he couldn’t figure out what was going on?! He tried to get Dex into the house, but Dex wouldn’t go.  Jim said Dex behaved just like on a Lassie show or other “dog hero” type show, and Jim finally figured he better get in the car and head to the park, and that was how he found me.

  Yes. My dog Dexter is a hero. And I have fallen and tripped on more than one occassion since then.  I had indeed ruptured a disk in my thoracic spine, as well as injured both kneecaps, and ruptured a tendon in my foot.  But, after I had healed, Dex and I started back on our daily walks, and we did so for many years after, up until his death in 2008. He is still my hero, as I keep his picture at my bedside and smile at his sweet face each night before going to sleep.

     SO…THERE YOU HAVE IT!  5 “Me” stories…which ONE is ALL true?  You comment and let me know or message me…then I will reveal to you which one is all true.

Thanks for reading, and thank you to Laurie for giving me the award and for the other bloggers included! As I’ve said before, I’m not a great writer, I write for fun and as a venting mechanism…but I couldn’t live without writing, that’s for sure!


Whats ugly? I have never really been what I or anyone who was close enough not to be kicked would be called UGLY. I’m not gorgeous. Not ever Sport Illustrated material…certainly not Playboy material…but I guess I was around the cute arena…not beautiful…not ugly…maybe not exactly pretty…depends on who you ask I guess.

It’s hard being a female. We are judged so harshly on how we look. We can be dumb as a rock, but if our hair is long, lush and blond and our boobs are taut and full and bellies flat….we are HOTTIES!  In my “hay day” I know I was a cutie….never Pamela Anderson of course…more of a I dunno…quiet and less punk Pink. I always felt ugly or worse…invisible as I do now. But looking back I think…I was pretty! I was well built! I was smart! I was caring! I was funny! I LOVED.

So what was WRONG with me? I was cheated on. Physically abused. Emotionally abused. Tossed aside for the newer model…so what was wrong with me? For years I decided it WAS me. I was ugly or fat or bitchy…I’m no at the age where I get it…it wasn’t me. It was HIM> HE had issues.  I don’t know how God expects us all to mate up and live happily ever after, when men have some defefctive wire in them telling them to go procreate with as many skanks as they can get to grovel around them….I mean, if I were male…I could see the appeal.

This whole Charlie Sheen fiasco is case in point. What a sick demented and tortured soul this guy is…sure , looks good from his perspective I stars, and strippers as his Goddessess…all the coke u can snort, money to burn, boats to chill on, islands to buy…but he is NOT happy. He is miserable…he is slowly killing himself.  Is is self esteem? self respect? ego?

I dunno. I’m just saying that I know as  a woman, I have felt and been MADE to feel as if I am not pretty enough…for whatever reason…and I am now middle aged..disabled…chubby…ill…and yet…I now KNOW I am beautiful, and no one can take that from me. All my young life I felt ugly…when I truly was a very pretty girl…I never got to enjoy that…ever.  Now I’m on that fast stretch headed to the bigh five oh….I’m gonna enjoy the looks I have left…and if you don’t like em…turn away…grab a playboy or SI….cuz this is what a real woman is…and if you need more….good luck to you trying to either look good enough or get rich enough to get better!


Is this title a repeat? I don’t even know…too lazy to scroll thru to find. I’m gonna blow one out here that is not censored at all….pure heart-felt emotion….I’m angry at women. I’m angry at men. I know so many women who stay in stale or bad relationships just strictly for monetary reasons. They put up with being degraded either verbally, emotionally or physically. They are their “spouses” mothers…their caregivers…their bathroom cleaners, laundry doers, dish doers, child raisers….they do all this while trying to work and pay bills, trying to compete with the airbrushed anorexic 14 year old model on Glamour magazine.

I’ve bypassed all that now…I lived thru it….but I am now of that “age”…where I am no longer a girl or woman. I am the “ghost woman”….I’m between 44 and 60….that area where you no longer exist. It’s sad really. I am now at the vantage point where I see young women 18 to 40 struggling to be seen. They want to look perfect…competing with air brushed anorexic unhappy women in magazines who seem to pull it all off. They feel inferiour. They hate themselves. They try so hard to please their “man” that they LOSE themselves!

Look girls! We are people! We are who we are! We look how we look! We feel how we feel! If that’s not good enough for someone…then screw that someone.  I’m sorry, but I spent alot of years kissing ass and being someones doormat…I will never do that again, and I could never in good conscious advice any other woman to do so. Go out there. Work…get your education. Get a job. Support YOU. Take care of YOU. Do not lose yourself in some dick who’s only thought is how many orgasms he can get goin today, with or without u.  I’m not saying you can’t have a meaningful and lifelong commitment with a man or woman or whatever…I’m just saying, you can’t lose YOU in the couple u become.

Keep your identity. Keep you self esteem and self respect. Don’t roll over and let anyone else run your life. Live it for you. If you have children, then live it for them…they are your PRIORITY. Kids come first. Romantic relationships second.

I’ve had some eye opening experiences lately.  Whats a romantic relationship? What’s a best friend? Whats a friend? What’s a mom? All these damn titles….I have felt like a failure for so many things…but never my “titles”…I always was the “good” daughter, grandaughter…the “good” girlfriend, wife, friend”…the good mom….

It hasn’t kept me from being hurt. Or disappointed. I’m feeling that quite often lately. Do I expect too much? Probably. I’m not an easy judge maybe. I’m not perfect…for dang sure.  I think I’m worried I won’t be around long enough to do what I need to do…to say what needs pass on what needs passed.  Not that I am egotistical enough to think I have anthing to say that anyone wants to hear…I don’t at all. Honest.

I have health issues, that are severe and dangerous. Makes me think about death and dying more than the norm I guess. I keep trying to figure out what can I leave my kids that will mean anything to them in years to come? I know I have knowledge that could be passed on. But how do you make that heard? How do you pass it without looking like you’re writing your suicide note?

I want my family to get that I love them with all my heart. That they are what’s kept me going during the past 5 yrs of Hell that have been tough to staggar thru.  I forced myself to live with the thought that I could be of some type of help for them.  I have the 2 best kids ever created…yep, I’m biased…but they are good kids…never been smokers, or drinkers or druggers or slept around. They are respectful and good kids and I am proud of them. I couldn’t have chosen better kids…yes there are others kids who are genius level or doctors or whatever…but that means nothing because the emotional relationship I have with my kids beats any document hanging on a wall.

I am to the point in my life where I am tired of the superficial bullcrap called relationships. I’m one of those people who says what I think and feel…I used to be a “pleaser” and tried to make everyone else feel good….at the expense of my sanity. I grew up in a psycho house where yelling, hitting, and berating were the norm.  Women were hit, and belittled.  This does not fly with me now. If you want to live that way…fine…just don’t expose kids to it….but I pray no woman puts up with this crap..from their men…or their friends.

Girl friends can be vicous and 2 faced.  We are cruel to each other, usually for no reason. We find it easy to tear each other down…why? to make ourselves feel better? I dunno…but its sad…we should be supporting each other…helping each other…we are all struggling thru life…it’s hard.

I’m losing faith is relationships…but the “girlfriend” code…I thought that was pretty dang strong…atleast once you were outta highschool and stopped fighting over some pimply faced player…but it doesn’t necessariley end there does it?