Oops!

I know it's been a good long while since I've done one of these. I went back and read my last post and can't help but laugh at my prediction karma would send me a kick in the pants for dating a normal man - because she did. Less than a week after my last post I had a kidney stone attack, followed by 2 surgeries for kidney stones in 2008, heart surgery in early 2009, and a 2nd bout of kidney stones in Fall 2009. I did also get engaged though, so I might call it a wash. :) I promise to be a better poster if y'all promise to keep reading me....so until we meet again....

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.