Slacker, Slacker!

Yes, I admit I am a bad blogger...I haven't written anything in MONTHS, I am a bad Queen for neglecting my loyal subjects. So here I am throwing myself back into this like a much better Queen sporting a tiara.

So here are some random musings to catch us up...

I'm dating a normal man...hard to believe I know, but 'tis true. Granted "normal" is rather abstract as a concept, but for me it means he lives in a big boy house, doesn't have children with one night stands, is gainfully employed, not actively psychotic, and has not (to my knowledge) been convicted of any felonies, misdemeanors, and does not have a DUI conviction. He brings flowers...FOR NO REASON! He cleaned my shower this weekend and likes to do dishes! This is progress on a grand scale for me, granted since I am proclaiming this with surprise and glee I am sure that karma will return the favor with a kick in the pants, but what can you do. Granted, he does look confused or angry in photographs...remember the episode of Friends when Chandler and Monica were trying to get an engagement photo done? It's precisely like that, he's fine until the camera comes out and then he goes facial spasmodic. Oh, and did I mention that I'm dating an Eagles fan...I shudder still when I think about it. SIGH...it's like karma wants to prove she still has a sense of humor when it comes to my dating life, so that was a good dig to get in...an Eagles fan...shaking my head in disbelief...

The ticker is still ticking but we meet with the surgeon next month and shall see if there is another set of "cardiac ablations" in the future. I've been sporting an ever so sexy cardiac monitor for 2 weeks - 3 electrodes, lots of wires, a sensor on my belt, and a monitor the size of a 1980s cell phone to carry around. Granted the joy of the monitor and the delightful sticky electrodes (which remove skin) are compounded by the rash that is developing on my chest from the wires and electrodes. Envy me...go ahead...you know you want to.

My hair is no longer summer blond! Last night I decided to take a risk and move back to my "natural" hair color with some pumped up highlights. Now I am a super sassy redhead again! Beware world...photos to follow.

On a very happy note, I found out that since I couldn't do the Breast Cancer 3-day this year because of the ticker not ticking as much as tocking, they are letting me roll over my registration and funds raised so far this year into the 2009 walk! WOOHOO! Very excited about this! I am signed up for the 2009 walk in Philadelphia next year and I'm looking for other folks to walk with me...could it be you? I think it could!

Thought of the day: Although it's great to take your dog for a long walk on a crisp Fall evening on a country road to enjoy the foliage, it might be a BAD idea of you and your spouse are out at dusk dressed in brown pants and navy blue pants walking a black dog. Just a thought people...that is a "pedistrian hit by a car" call waiting to happen.

The Rehearsal

Ever continuing my wedding stories, on Friday in Santa Fe we had some down time before the rehearsal. In essence this means that while other folks dealt with tequila induced hangovers (go me - no hangover), I walked all about Santa Fe to "see some sites" before we had girl time for nails and then the rehearsal and dinner.

Luckily for me my hotel was right in the downtown area of Santa Fe, so I could walk to the aforementioned sites. To begin with I walked down to the Bascilica Cathedral St. Francis Assisi, which is one of the few non-adobe buildings in Santa Fe. To say that Santa Fe is filled with churches of the Catholic persuasion is sort of like saying Napa is filled with vineyards. At times it seemed as though one could not swing a cat without hitting a church. But I digress.

There was a lovely park next to the Cathedral. More importantly just up the street was the most wonderful store in all the world! It is called "Crown Jewels" and it specialized in the jewelry of local artists AND tiaras. Now anyone who knows me knows how I love a good tiara. You walk into the place and they encourage you to wear a tiara while you browse! I LOVED this store. Needless to say I purchased the cutest little tiara after trying on every single one in the store....it's an important decision you know.

After my oh so important purchase I wandered forth to the Chapel Loretto, which has this amazing staircase (google it for the story). The chapel was lovely and the staircase is just amazing when you know that it was originally constructed with no supports or banisters and just sprang up over night. From there I wandered down to the San Miguel Church, which is the oldest building in the U.S. to be used as a church, with the original adobe structure constructed initially in the 1600s. Look at me having an educational experience!

We eventually went for girly time and got our nails done, during the course of which all hell broke loose when a major thunderstorm rolled up out of nowhere. It POURED and I really think this was confusing to many people, as they all looked about with bewildered expressions on their faces...like they'd never seen rain before. Desert smesert, it rained there. :)

We then all ran like hell to get ready for the rehearsal...ya know, the practice wedding. I loved being able to walk to the hotel, which was quite lovely. The wedding part was to be on the terrace, so alas that is where we practiced. Despite the earlier rain it was hot as hell on the terrace, luckily I was a smart member of the pale nation and had slattered on the SPF 30 before heading down to the practice. There was a lot of standing about...Ursula and I managed to behave ourselves quite well, I must say. Once it was over we headed for drinky-poos at the Pink Adobe before heading to the rehearsal dinner.

Post-dinner we went for more drinky-poos at the Inn at Loretto, which was quite charming, and was the setting for the inappropriate statue photo opportunities during the bachelorette party. Needless to say more fun was had with the statues. Honestly, if you errect a 15 foot man with the loin cloth how can you really expect me to refrain from climbing on him, making inappropriate gestures in photos with him, and sticking my head up his loin cloth? What else is one supposed to do with said statue? Besides, if you REALLY didn't want me to play on him you wouldn't have put stepping stones in the fountain to allow me to get onto his base. So blame yourself, not me. Statuary disgrace was followed with a pomegranate lemonade (YUMMY), group bonding, and overall hilarity.

We then determined to host an "after-party" in the girl's condo. I went to pick up my car (and my tiara) before heading to the condo. I must say that I was wearing the tiara with capri pants and a polo shirt, and not one damn person gave me a 2nd glance. Per Kate "the tiara just looks natural on you, not out of place" so I guess this further affirms my royal bearing. Some sort of inappropriate and loud game of adult-like charades followed, and we learned that the bridesmaids as a group are freakishly smart and that the girls kicked the boys asses. After a certain level of intoxication was reached by many, Cory came back to the hotel with me for her last night as a single lady. We had a grown up slumber party and got a good night's sleep in preparation for the wedding.

I'm "It"

So as I was catching up on blogs from my WW ladies, I saw that Julie had "tagged" me (hence me being IT) to answer some questions, so here it goes:

5 things found in your bag:
* Lip balm - there is a little pot of Blistex DCT and a tube of Kiehl's in there - it's important to have kissably soft lips in the event I meet a frog I can kiss to a prince
* About 8 tubes of lip gloss/lip stick - I know, I know, I have a lip fetish
* Camera - one never knows when something hilarious might happen that requires photo memories
* My business cards & a stack of my Breast Cancer 3-day cards
* My Red Cross ID - you never know when you're gonna get called out on a fire

5 favorite things found in your bedroom:
* My bed - oh how I love my bed
* My gorgeous hand-woven pink oriental wool/silk carpet
* My 250 pairs of shoes - I love every pair
* My bubblegum pink Coach spring peacoat - it's such a happy coat
* My baby blanket from when I was a kid

5 things I have always wanted to do:
* Live abroad for at least 3 months
* Explore Ireland in depth and visit the land of my ancestors
* Wear a bikini on the beach without feeling self-conscious about it
* Go on safari in Africa and see critters in the wild
* Write and publish a book

5 things I am currently into:
*prepping for the Breast Cancer 3-day in October
* Getting back into the grove of learning once classes begin in September - Dr. Smith here I come!
* My weight loss journey on WW and the wonderful women I encounter on the messages boards there who constantly inspire and amaze me
* Volunteer work with the Red Cross - I love giving, who knew?
* Work - I LOVE my job! Who else gets this excited to work with mentally ill criminals?

5 people I want to tag:
*Katie
*Jules
*Irene
* Jason
* YOU!

Bachelorette Party

So Cory's bachelorette party was Thursday night in Santa Fe. The plan was to go to dinner at a place called Coyote Cafe, followed by cocktails on the town. Dinner at Coyote Cafe did not materialize, mainly because the bitch who "owns" the restaurant had a stick up her ass and decided to get all hostile with us. In essence they don't take reservations, I stopped by early to give them a heads up there would be 12 of us there for dinner for a bachelorette party (read high drinking, big check). They were snappy with me, hostile in fact, but I arrived early, to let them know we would be there soon. Then the hostess got uber hostile and the "manager-owner" flipped her shit on me and told me "you have 4 minutes to get your asses in here or I am giving away your tables, this is MY restaurant and I will do what I want with the tables." Ummm ok psycho, they are parking and will be here in 3 minutes. Needless to say, psycho bitch from hell gives our tables away then proceeds to get shitty with us about it. We left and drank copious amounts of alcohol at a WONDERFUL restaurant, along with a super yummy, amazingly good meal, and exceptional service at the Pink Adobe. Seriously, the meal could not have been better, it seems karma was on our side, especially since the "owner" of the Coyote Cafe apparently was not interested in sales on a Thursday night. Her loss, our gain!

After a decadent meal and bottles of wine, we took the most random route into the Plaza for drinks. Cory stuck her head under the loin cloth of a statue...perhaps she thought he was a real (well-hung) man? We finagled drinks at the Ore House on the veranda before last call, where every man in the place had "suggestions" for after parties - including something about a "caboose club" which we assumed to be a euphemism for "gang rape in the park." Kate whipped out some "penis" blowers...HILARIOUS...

The party then took a strange and awkward trail through Santa Fe, while looking for "the Cowgirl." We stopped every man on the street to ask him if we were headed in the right direction. To which they all said yes. We were approached by 8000 groups of 5-6 men all crammed into the back of a Honda Civic, all wanting to "show us a good time." Really, you and 4 other sweating men wearing too much cologne are going to make room for us in that spacious Civic...so tempting. THEN the best part of "being lost" en route to Cowgirls including a man wearing a fishing vest, knee high socks, and goggles...that's right GOGGLES!

Now as you might imagine "Cowgirls" had quite a southwestern theme. It also had a cover charge, which Ursula and I took care of in short order. The conversation went something like this:
Me: "Is there a cover here?"
Bouncer: "Yeah, $10 cause of live music."
Ursula: "We're a bachelorette party."
Bouncer : "Uh Huh."
Me: "Wouldn't you like 10 hot women here partying for no cover or do you want us to go to the next bar up the street?"
Bouncer: checking out the bachelorette group "Why don't you ladies come on in."


Oh the hilarity of the evening. Our waiter was named Bryan and wearing a Cowboy hat. Cory determined that Bryan was not a "cowboy name" so she insisted on calling him "Clint Stonebreaker" for the rest of the evening, and he answered! Once the band began playing we hit the dance floor...several men would attempt to break into the party and dance with us, forcing us to pointedly dance with each other, at which point said men would back off to "watch" in hopes of experiencing Girls Gone Wild: Santa Fe. Pathetic really. But the hopeful optimism on their faces was clearly priceless, it could have been a mastercard commercial..."Cover charge for *Cowgirls* $10. 5 Sierra Nevada Pale Ales $20. A round of shots for the bachelorette party $25. Watching 10 girls make out on a dance floor...priceless." Certainly there was no making out on the dance floor, but the puppy dog looks on their faces obviously HOPING it would happen was classic.

At some point in the evening between hitting on the band - the singer was SUPER cute - drinking mucho margaritas, the tequila shots, and the interesting people, I talked Bryan aka Clint Stonebreaker, into giving me his Cowboy hat. Of course that was a good move on his part, as I OBVIOUSLY am the personification of what they meant by Cowgirl...I look like I'd wear leather chaps and rope cows, right? By the time we closed the bar it was necessary to take a taxi home, in part because we had no idea where the hell we were since we seemed to have walked to the Cowgirl via Arizona. Amazingly I did not experience a hangover the next day, despite being up for more than 24-hours and drinking far more tequila via margaritas then I've had in the last 10 years I think.

New Mexico

So I am back from New Mexico, where I spent 5 days for Cory's wedding. To say that New Mexico is the polar opposite of New Jersey might be an understatement to say the least. The mountains, the high desert, the vegetation, the adobe, the size of the sky, all of it is so different than what I've been used to, but it was beautiful. The colors were amazing, the sky was huge. The river was so tiny!

I will post more on the trip as a whole, the bachelorette party, the wedding, the trip to Taos, it was all a good time. I had way more fun than I expected to have by going solo to a place 2000 miles from home and going stag to a wedding.

Jersey Girl

Ok, I'm just going to lay it all out there - I am a Jersey Girl in the literal use of the term. I grew up in New Jersey, I have lived here (for the most part) for all 30 years of my life, I've got NJ tags on my car, I drive like I'm from Jersey, and I know many of the Jersyisms that exist. I am not THAT kind of Jersey Girl though - my nails are real, my boobs are real, my hair is not teased, overly permed, or color treated in a way that requires a haz-mat suit. I don't wear Jersey girl clothes - I own neither spandex or leopard print, I don't talk like Jersey, and I don't fit the stereotype by any stretch of the imagination. I'm from the garden part of the Garden State - I've been cow tipping, I know how to pick good produce, I'm not afraid of wild animals, and I have driven a tractor and worked at a farm stand.

That being said, I have determined that, despite my prowess at driving in Jersey and like I'm from Jersey, New Brunswick is the root of evil in the state of NJ. I HATE driving in and around New Brunswick with a passion that seems somewhat unnatural. To begin with, it seems to me that someone in New Brunswick looks at the road maps monthly, determines that because there is so much road construction going on that everyone is using road X to bypass the construction, and then determines that it would be a good time to rip up road X and replace all the drainage pipes, or gas pipes, or water pipes. Yesterday I had to go to the Middlesex County Correction Center, which lies on the edge of New Brunswick, a mere 7.8 miles from my office. A journey that SHOULD take no more than 20 minutes, but because it was New Brunswick it took me more than 45 minutes to get there. Why? I don't know. I do know that they had the main road leading into New Brunswick ripped up in many places although no one was manning the GIANT holes the road. In addition, every overpass in New Brunswick is constantly dripping, despite the fact that there is no rain. I don't know where all this water comes from, but I imagine it being full of Ebola and any other nasty form of virus and bacteria, simply because New Brunswick is the outer realm of hell. The detours are detoured there, which suggests to me that the devil has a portal there somewhere, likely in the new Rutgers football stadium.

Am I Carrie Bradshaw?

Like every woman of my generation it seems, I worshiped at the alter of Sex and the City. I related to the women and their experiences, their trials and tribulations, their angst, their conversations, the experiences of sharing life with your best girlfriends. Certainly there were aspects of each woman that I could relate to, but my strongest connection was always to Carrie. Carrie who at moments was brilliant, tragic, a train-wreck, or inspired. She and Big were so on-again, off-again that I knew what she went through, I too had those relationships. Every strange nightmare of a relationship she ran into tugged at my heart strings because I could have been watching myself up there - sans the size 2, legs up to here, couture wardrobe, and millions of Manolos, but still.

I saw the movie the other night and at every turn of a corner I saw my life played out, not in exact detail, but goodness I could relate. No, I don't live a life of fashion and glamor in NYC, but I understand the love of shoes...oh how I understand the love of shoes...the desire to have a big beautiful closet, and the devotion to beautiful clothing, accessories, and shoes. Have I mentioned that I love shoes? If Manolo made them in my size I honestly would suck it up and drop $500 on the perfect pair of stiletto heels. I long for the day when I can afford to love my fashion and have it love me back. I have worshiped at the alter of Louis Vuitton, and I swear that someday I will own the monogrammed canvas steamer trunk and that sassy little hat box. I kid you not that it shall be mine. But my view of Carrie is more than just fashion-forward, because let's be honest there are some outfits that no one would really wear. Plus I don't live in NYC, my show would have to be titled "Sex and the Small Town," the jet-set is not my back yard. But I have an amazing set of friends, we drink strong drinks and talk candidly about sex. We support each other, thick and thin, and isn't that really what it's all about?

The real connection I feel with Carrie goes to the fact that who among us hasn't felt the frustration, the uncertainty, the angst and the anger of dating in these modern times? The days where your heart has been so broken that you did not want to get out of bed? I've been there, I have laid in my misery in bed for days at a time over men certainly worth less than the tissues I blew my nose in. When Charlotte uttered the phrase "I've been dating since I was fifteen. I'm exhausted. Where is he?" I stood up and took notice. I knew that feeling! I feel that today, tomorrow, yesterday, for the past I don't know how many years.

But beyond Charlotte, aren't I Carrie? I have turned down good men for bad relationships, I have felt the sting of rejection by men I love for "idiotic stick figures who have no souls," I have recycled men I should not and hidden it (at the time) from my friends. I saw so much of me played out on that big screen and it made me question. Am I going to be the 40-year-old bride, am I going to have to wait forever for Big to get around to me? I believe in Carrie's logic when she said "Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous." But am I going to find that someone? Is he out there? Can a girl really have it all? I don't know, but like Carrie I'm going to write it out - I'm going to write a book aimed at single women, and if the torments of my single life sell and help me buy those Louis bags, some Gucci, Prada, and Chanel, then maybe it will have been worth it in the end. I guess I have 10 years to find the life I'm looking for before I hit 40 and have to accept the consequences of living the life I want instead of the life that goes along with relationships. But so be it, right? I mean at least I had fun with my friends...

It's Summertime...

So summer is truly upon us and I am nostalgic for the summers of my childhood. I sit here sweating my ass off in NJ thinking about all those summers spent on my little island in NC. I miss the smell of the ocean, the sea oats whipping in the summer breeze, the feel of hot sand on my feet and bottle green waters with dolphins frolicking off the shore. I miss sweat tea on the beach, bathing suits and flip flops, and my "Irish tan." Is it possible for us to get back to childhood? To relive the magic of running around headstrong and fancy-free on an island? I miss that feeling. I miss the pelicans playing in the waves, the sandpipers hopping around the beach, sand between my toes, and crunchy ocean water hair. I'm going to dream of the ocean tonight, think about the smell of salt water on my skin, and wish that I could go back again...

"Summertime, time, time,
Child, the living's easy.
Fish are jumping out
And the cotton, Lord,
Cotton's high, Lord so high."

I Choose Me

There are moments that define us. Choices we make and have made that continue to impact our lives for years to come. We chose at 18 to go to college or not, what career path to walk down or not, and sometimes we chose well and sometimes we chose poorly in terms of our life path.

As I look at my life, it seems that many times the choices I have made were not made with my own best interests in mind, I chose based on the expectations, the desires, and the input of others - sometimes those choices worked out in the end, and sometimes there is regret.

I have come to a point in my life where I have decided to make an active effort to say to myself "I choose me." I am going to take this time to put myself first, to decide that my wants are the most important, that my needs should be the ones met first, and that the desires I have are the ones that shall be fulfilled (to the best of my ability).

I have decided to rise up like the phoenix from the ashes of who I have been to turn into the person I want to be. All in all the last year has been devoted to making changes. I cut unhealthy relationships from my life, I undertook challenges that others said would be impossible, and I looked at my life to determine what I wanted to tackle next, what has been left undone, what do I want to do next. Certainly there are goals I cannot meet on my own (although a wedding featuring JUST me could be interesting), but there are others I can do. I choose me. I choose to put me first. I choose to meet my own needs before I meet those of others.

Perhaps I am being selfish in my decision. I don't know. I do know that choosing to let me take 2nd or 3rd or 4th place has not worked. The happiness I deserve is out there, I know it. I think I just need to seize the day to find it. So I choose me. I choose my happiness. I choose to make the changes necessary to do what I want to do and be who I want to be. If that makes me selfish, so be it. But I still choose me. I said I want to be Queen of the Universe someday, I'm just going to start acting like it's already happened. So you can call me "your royal highness may I kiss your feet" and know that I just chose me.

A thought to ponder

Ok, so I got this yesterday as a forward in my email, and with all the shit that is going on I took it as an omen and decided I needed to post it. Although I normally would not include a post dealing with God or religion, I couldn't NOT post it because it's nearly ironic in it's moral:

The cheerful little girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them, a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box.

'Oh mommy please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?'

Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's upturned face.

'A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma.'

As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.

Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere, Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath . Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green.

Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story. One night as he finished the story, he asked Jenny, 'Do you love me?'

'Oh yes, daddy. You know that I love you.'

'Then give me your pearls.'

'Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the white horse from my collection, the one with the pink tail. Remember, daddy? The one you gave me. She's my very favorite.'

'That's okay, Honey, daddy loves you. Good night.' And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.

About a week later, after the story time, Jenny's daddy asked again, 'Do you love me?'

'Daddy, you know I love you.'

'Then give me your pearls.'

'Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll . The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper.'

'That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you.'

And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.

A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian style.

As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek.

'What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?'

Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace . With a little quiver, she finally said, 'Here, daddy; this is for you.'

With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny.

He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure. So it is, with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasures.

God will never take away something without giving you something better in its place.

Stronger Woman

"I guess you could say I'm one of those girls
That's always been with one of those guys
You know the type
Like right now, he sleeps while I write
But it's better than crying
I'm worn out from trying
From loving a man who always makes it clear
I'm not welcome here
Just till he's horny and hungry
or needs something cleaned
And you know what I mean

But not tonight
'Cause come the morning light, oh
I'm gonna love myself more than anyone else
Believe in me, even if someone can't see
The stronger woman in me

I'm going to be my own best friend
Stick with me till the end
Won't lose myself again, never, no,
'Cause there's a stronger woman,
A stronger woman in me

Light bulbs buzz,
I get up
And head to my drawer
I wish there was more
I could say
Another fairytale fades to gray
I've lived on hope
Just like a child
Walking that mile
Faking that smile
All the while
Wishing my heart had wings

Well tonight, I'm going to be
The kind of woman I'd want my daughter to be, oh

I'm gonna love myself more than anyone else
Believe in me, even if someone can't see
There's a stronger woman in me
I'm gonna be my own best friend
Stick with me till the end
I won't lose myself again, never, no
'Cause there's a stronger woman,
A stronger woman

This is me, packing up my bags
And this is me, headed for the door
And this is me, the best you ever had
I'm going to love myself
More than anyone else
Believe in me even if someone cannot see
There's a stronger woman in me
I'm going to be my own best friend
Stay with me till the end
Won't lose myself again, never, no
'Cause there's a stronger woman
A stronger woman
There's a stronger woman,
A stronger woman in me"

- Jewel

I'd rather stay in the tower, thank you very much

I'm starting to think that all the stories I loved as a child have done me some great disservice. As a little girl we all learned the tales of princesses swept away and saved by the handsome prince...and we believed it. We believed that love will overcome it all. And as we aged we watched every "happily ever after" romantic comedy that came down the pipe, and that fostered our beliefs that someday our prince will come. Julie Roberts got her man in every movie, even when she was a hooker. We all fed at the trough of hope and belief, every movie where the good girl tames the bad boy in the end, the awkward shy girl wins over the hero with the heart of gold, and on and on and on.


So have Hollywood and Walt Disney created a generation of people who don't know how to have a healthy relationship? Or should I say a generation of women expecting what isn't real? We expect to find the movie storyline, each of us dreams of being the heroine in her own fairytale, but how real is that? And how often do we see/hear/read about girls with REAL relationships in the media? The closest thing to a girl I can relate to on TV is Meredith Gray on Gray's Anatomy - I'm not saying she's like the rest of us average girls out there, but at least they let her have some insecurities and the like. Granted, in the season finale she got her prince charming, but at least there was some struggle there for a while before it worked out for her in the end. The raw emotion of her "Pick me. Choose me. Love me." from a few seasons back was something I could relate to. I have thought those thoughts, I have uttered thoughts like that to men certainly unworthy of the sentiment. I blame my expectations on the media - they let me hope, they let me believe, they made it seem like it was true for all of us, not just the chosen few.

Is it fair that they have handicapped me this way in relationships? Think about it - Disney heroines had to be weak to win the man. That's the lesson I learned from all those princesses, but that's not my reality. Is that my problem? I won't lose my voice like the Mermaid, I want to fight my own dragons, a little assist every now and then might be good, but I don't need someone to get me out of my ivory tower. I need someone who would be proud of me at the end of the day for getting out, who would take me to dinner and ask me about how I did it, who wants to stand beside me, not in front of me.

For a long time I have convinced myself that I am stocking up on good karma. That all the bullshit in the past 15 years of my dating life has been scoring me points with dating karma, that the man at the end of the rainbow was going to be worth it all - the lies, the cheats, the bastards, the disappointment, the tears, the tears, the tears. I'm still waiting. How long is it going to take? At this point with all the shit of years past, he better be damn worth it in the end. I thought I found him, but I wonder. Don't we all? Don't we all wonder if there is something wrong with us that we haven't found our satisfaction yet? Or wonder if we will ever find what we are looking for...I just don't know anymore.

As I sit here and ponder my current relationship situation, the uncertainty of it all, I wonder when I can get my reality TV show. You know, one that can show the reality of being a well-educated, successful young woman in America who made it to 30 without a marriage, engagement, child, etc. It is real life here, this is the raw ugly underbelly of relationships. Of pride and uncertainty, of hope and disbelief, of the break down and cry kind of endings. Where do they show that in the movies? Where do they show that anywhere?

Did Jim's Big Ego say it best with the lyrics of their song, Prince Charming? I'm starting to think so...

I think you better cut all that hair off
throw it out the window
climb down from that tower
flip the wicked witch the finger
ain't no use to wait for him to get you
he's out chasing his own demons
not like you can really blame him
you've got demons of your own

and I hate to be the one to tell you
cause it don't seem so romantic
but that's the way it really goes
and now you know

you're gonna have to be your own prince charming
gonna have to ride your own stallion
gonna have to find your own castle
gonna have to raise your own sail
and there's gonna be a happy ending
but that's only the beginning
this ain't no fairy tale
it's true
it's real
it's you

Cinderella stepped out of her glass slippers
threw down that new apron
put on a pair of old Doc Martens
and stomped right out the door
the prince was still chewing on his bacon
as he hit the open road
said life is full enough of disappointment
to go kissing any toad

and somewhere a band was playing
"to-ra-loo-ra-loo-ra"
you go out and see the world girl
have yourself a ball

you're gonna have to be your own prince charming
gonna have to ride your own stallion
gonna have to find your own castle
gonna have to raise your own sail
and there's gonna be a happy ending
but that's only the beginning
this ain't no fairy tale

you're gonna have to be your own prince charming
gonna have to ride your own stallion
gonna have to find your own castle
gonna have to raise your own sword
and there's gonna be a happy ending
and there's gonna be a happy ending
and there's gonna be a happy ending
it's true
it's real
it's you

The journey

So a number of people have asked what in the world ever possessed me to take part in the Breast Cancer 3-day. To their credit I guess I don't appear to be the "obvious" sort to take part in that journey. No one in my family has been diagnosed with breast cancer, I've got wretchedly bad knees, I think camping means staying at a Holiday Inn, I don't like to sweat, and yet I signed up and I'm training to do this thing.

This is something the girls and I discussed last year, but we determined it was too late for us to get trained and raise the money. This year we determined it was the year to do it, and we are. I turned 30, I need to do something big...at this point my "big" thing isn't going to be an engagement, a marriage, a child, so I'm going to walk 60 miles over 3 days to end Breast Cancer. The ring, the man, the baby, they can come along at any time, but this could be a once in a lifetime experience. It's possible that at mile 15 my knee will blow and I won't be able to walk the remaining 45 miles, but I'm going to try. This is something big that I and I alone can control, it's not luck, it's not anything other than hard work, determination, and a desire to change the world.

I admit that at times this task seems overwhelming, the idea of raising $2200 to take part in this walk is something big, especially since October is racing up on us and I've yet to hit the $600 mark. Granted, the team has made plans for fund-raising events this summer, but honestly the economic situation in the country is not making this easy for us.

The walking is hard - my feet have never looked so bad! Calluses, blisters, rough spots - my lord my feet hate me right now! I haven't had a pedicure in months, I'm buying gatorade like it's my job, I'm getting out and sweating (oh how I hate to sweat). I'm doing this thing. At this point walking 7-miles in the heat is enough to make me close to miserable, but I'm trudging on. Do I stick to my training plan every day, no, not even close. I am taking this journey one day at a time and one step at a time. But I'm trying. I'm going out and trying something new and different and somewhat overwhelming. I'm pushing my body in ways I haven't since I was 15 and played high school sports. I'm learning about wearing the right sneakers (and choosing the ones that do the best job, don't look the best), finding the right socks, looking for all the little things (like Body Glide) to give me a little edge in my training, I'm even finding out about the best workout clothing - it's like a whole new world out there. No, it's not a marathon, I'm not going grind out 26 miles in 4 hours, I'm doing 60 over 3-days. It's going to be hard but I'm going to do it - this is my something big for turning 30.

You're not the boss of me...

So I'll say it, I'm 30 and I'm not married, never have been, so what. I am a 30 year old woman in 2008 who lives alone, I have two bachelor's degrees, one masters degree, and one law degree...and I'm single. I don't see what the big deal is, and yet today, I run into a girl from high school who is married, with a toddler, and preggers...dropped out of college, doesn't work, is on marriage #2, and has the balls to give that dismissive look to my left hand, like I'm defective for being single. WTF? No sugarplum, I'm not married, engaged, or cohabitating, and for right now I'm ok with that.

Seriously, is there a law written that she who reaches 30 without a marriage is a loser? Of course, the sad part on this social commentary is that I somehow feel badly about myself for this look. BLECH...at least I got my mother to stop with the comments of "when I was your age I was married, with a mortgage, and 2 children." OK Mom, let me run out and get knocked up ASAP....which one of the crazy bastards that I've dated and you've hated in the last oh 10 years do you want me to marry? Oh none, ya sure, I can run out to the bar tonight and get something going on...

I admit that 98% of the time my love life is in a shambles, what do you want me to do about it? It's not my fault I scare men, seriously now, if you're so fucking insecure, you shouldn't have started dating me in the first place. It's not like I hide who I am from you - if you can't fucking take the heat get out of the goddamn kitchen, better yet, stay in the damn driveway and save me the trouble. So yeah, I'm single. My prince fucking charming is out there somewhere over the rainbow. Until I get him squared away I'm frying up the frogs, going for some French haute cuisine.

Happy BLOG Day

So after much debate and popular demand, it has been determined that I shall bless y'all with my blog-isms. Yes, I did change blog locations as a certain shit-bag ex was obsessively stalking the last blog, and it amuses me that he's not clever enough to find this one. Back to lessons of the day and observations about the wacky world in which I live. Feel the laughter people, feel the laughter.

HMMM, my musings for day 1? Well, tonight is Pearl Jam with Jason...YAY Jason! Pearl Jam, eh, makes me think of early high school and "Jeremy" but I do so adore Jason, so how could I not trek on down to Camden for a concert? That's right people, I said it, Camden. Remember when we were kids and they used to burn down Camden on mischief night? Good stuff! Ok, I am awaiting Jason's arrival and I hope I'm dressed appropriately for Pearl Jam. I guess I stereotype all the stoners who loved P.J. in college and didn't shower and stuff...my OCD and germ phobia makes that idea not okay for me, but I'm coping.

So what's new in Queen B land? WELLLL, after much debate it is settled that I will be going back to get that doctorate starting in the fall. I will be commuting to DC (I know, freaking crazy, I KNOW) so that I can soon force you (I said it!) to refer to me as DR. Queen B, esq. :) Seriously though, I mean I guess it will help in that quest for world domination...right? I can learn appropriate brainwashing techniques to help make folks more submissive to being my minions.

On my "let's make the world a better place front" don't forget my ever prominent suggestions you donate to breasts and support me (and my girls) in the Susan G. Koman 3-day. 60-miles folks, WALKING, you heard me! I'm walking 60 miles in 3-days. Next time you get in your car map out how far 60 miles is, and think of me WALKING it. Donate to boobies everyone...you like them and they like you!

LOD: Netflix has work-out videos! Who knew? (yeah, I know that one isn't as good as the one about the geese but it was a slow day so far)


P.S. I will post some of the "old" blog entries on this page once I get motivated - mostly the myspace posts which went over so well with a lot of people... :)

An oldie but goodie on Pennsyl-tucky

Originally posted 10/21/07

Holy crap I thought we were gonna die in the way stupid girls in horror movies meet their makers on dark wooded lanes in the middle of nowhere! Where you ask? Pennsyl-fucking-tucky, that is where. Last night Katie and I traveled into the great unknown of Pennsylvania and we are still amazed we made it out alive! I have a freaking GPS in my car and on the ride home, the GPS did not recognize the fact that we were actually on a road! It kept telling us to get onto the marked route, despite the fact that we were on a "major" roadway! Holy hell! I've determined that if one is more than 35 miles from Philly it is likely that one is in a backwoods land of mutants waiting to slaugter cute young women who wander into the vast unknown of wooded areas with road names like "Longswamp Road" and "Stone Wall Lane."

An oldie but goodie on Gas Stations

Originally posted 10/15/07

To begin with, I think that NJ is the best state in the country in which to get gas...it is less expensive than most other states and they pump your gas for you, something I enjoy immensely. Generally speaking that means a pimply teenager or some old man will pump my gas, take my money and send me on my way. This morning on my way to work I decided to stop and get $20 worth to top me off for the round trip to work this week. I stopped at 8:30 this morning and there were 2 other cars at the pumps and one man pumping the gas. I very nicely pulled in, turned of my car and popped the tank and asked the man for $20 of regular. He started to pump my gas and then from nowhere 3 other men swarmed the car - they all worked at the station - I had the guy pumping my gas, another guy washing my front windows, another guy doing the back windows and one more apparently supervising the other 3. None of the cars were experiencing this level of care, none of them had clean windows, or even anyone near their cars. It was fascinating. Nothing like a woman in a skirt, heels, and a reasonably well fitting top to elicit this sort of major response at a gas station. Thank the lord I wasn't scantily clad, they might have decided to wash my car with their tongues or something!

Oldie on driving on the Mainline

Original post 10/12/07 I’ll have a serving of bad driving with an oz of pretention and a side of nostalgia So I took a drive down memory lane into the land of nostalgia with a trip to Villanova for an MPRE review class - nothing like 4 hours of legal ethics to really get the brain going. The drive down was like 2nd nature, the school experience delightful - the big fancy brand new parking facility makes me a bit envious of the hours it seems I spent wandering the parking lots seem so unfair and tragic...why don't these little monsters (oh yeah I sat in that class with like 75 of them) have to leave 1/2 an hour early to get a parking spot? As to the whole legal ethics thing - SNOREFEST! This exam I have to take is gonna be horrible...boring...annoying... Anyway...the thing that struck me most about that trip down memory lane is realizing how badly people drive on the mainline! My lord I braked, stopped, slammed on my brakes and changed lanes around people driving high end cars in terrible terrible ways. Oh yeah, and the fact that I wanted a tea and couldn't go anyplace but StarBucks to get one was rather on the annoying side. I forgot just how pretentious the MainLine can be...nothing like a place that makes Princeton look laid back! One of my favorite lines of one of my favorite movies is "Daddy always says 'An ounze of pretention is worth a pound of manure.'" So name that movie and get a prize...follow it up with the next line and get double rewards! As to the thought of the day...the blog is back by popular demand, leave me some love when you read it. Here is the thought: People shouldn't get engaged after 5 weeks of dating, especially if you are calling an ex to proclaim your love for her...it's just a thought that it might not make the best marriage.