Archive for October, 2007

If I Had A Hammer

October 29, 2007 at 1:07 pm · Filed under revenge

I’d bop someone right on top of the head.

Relax! I’m not going to do it. A head thump would be totally satisfying, but not practical. Prison orange isn’t my best color and I know I would despise picking up trash off the side of the expressway.

Unless that trash should happen the person I want to bop on the head, of course.

When I go into revenge-getting mode, I put on my Catboots. The usually seen Rock Chick side of me is quite passive, sometimes even too passive, but somewhere in there lies “JessiCat”, The Rock Chick’s more devious twin. When The Cat has had enough, look out.

Forget sugar in the gas tank, ex-lax in the brownies or going all Carrie Underwood with a Louisville Slugger on somebody’s car. Those things are only temporarily satisfying, (not to mention criminal) and while annoying, they just don’t convey the proper message.

In order to exact real revenge, you have to be ruthless, go for the jugular and most of all…make sure the person gets your message without being able to prove that it was you, all while remaining within the letter of the law.

This requires some level-headed planning. There is a popular proverb that says “revenge is a dish best served cold” and there is truth to this. You have to be past the initial angry phase and you have to be at the point where the other person doesn’t expect you to jump any longer.

Depending on the violation, this process could take years. You will have to remain still until the opportunity to pounce like a cat presents itself. Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance. I’ve met a lot of catty people in my day and I can assure you that a tiger never changes his (or her) stripes.

My co-workers at my very first job nicknamed me “Ruthie” (short for ruthless) after I devised a teenaged revenge plot for someone that was so utterly sweet, it could have been sold as Valentine’s Day candy. At the massacre, of course.

Since then, I’ve schemed many revenge plots for other people. Fortunately, I haven’t had the opportunities to need them myself other than with Elementary School Principal on occasion. She was so dumb, though, it didn’t present much of a challenge.

In my early 20’s, I met my friend, Camilla. Outwardly, she is much more, let’s say outspoken, than I am, but a fellow plotter she is. I’ve never met anyone who can scheme unscathed like she can. She definitely helped me achieve a razor sharpness to my claws.

I won’t divulge my secret plan because I may have to reenact a few of the highlights.

And just so you know, I did attempt to work this out admirably. I sent a very polite “cease and desist” letter. She didn’t respond directly to me, but through a friend instead, because she “doesn’t like conflict”. Uh huh. I’m thinking if you don’t want someone to come hunt you down with a rubber hose, then you shouldn’t be starting smoky fires, right?

I’ll be sure to let you know how it goes.

Meow!

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Bad To The Bone

October 29, 2007 at 1:11 am · Filed under Halloween, Kathy Reichs, bones, cleaning, fruit flies

As you may have noticed, I haven’t had any posts in a couple of days. Almost a week, actually. Did you miss me?

I’ve been battling fruit flies. I bought some bananas from a produce market (where I don’t normally shop) earlier in the week. The next day I found myself swatting at a fruit fly or two. No big deal, I thought.

I was wrong. Three days later, I came home from work on my lunch break and holy crap, I wondered if Armageddon was happening in my kitchen. Thousands, maybe even millions of teeny tiny flies were swarming all over my kitchen and dining room!

Absolutely freaking, I tossed a bone out the door for the dog to chase, covered my face with an “Adopt Me” bandana (the only one I had! Do I strike you as a bandana wearing kind of girl?) and grabbed the only pest extermination product in the house. Good for ants, not all that good for fruit fly homicide.

The only thing dying in the room was me from the cloud of poisonous smoke that had now overtaken my house. I don’t care what the can says either, the fumes don’t smell like country flowers.

I ran to my neighbor’s house. After a lecture from Lynette about leaving fruit in the open like I do (yeah, yeah, yeah), I looked up how to get rid of the little buggers on her computer. I know a lot of things, but I’m not an expert on fruit flies. Someone who was suggested salsa and a paper funnel.

I went to the store in search of killer salsa and decided on six large jars of Peach and Pineapple flavored. They are fruit flies, after all.

Forcing myself past the bug swarm, I dumped half of each jar into another container and jammed a homemade paper funnel into the tops of each one. After strategically placing them around the room, I waited, watched and scratched my imaginary itches. Within minutes, the fruit flies were drawn to the salsa. Down the funnel they went searching for a taste of that succulent goodness below.

Ahhhh, the power of temptation.

Fortunately, they aren’t smart enough to figure out how to get out and in just a matter of minutes, I had trapped hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. Hours later, there wasn’t a fruit fly flying anywhere. They were all stuck in my traps de salsa.

I marked an imaginary score card in the air. One for The Rock Chick. I decided that these anti-depressants I am taking are wonderful. A few weeks ago, I would not have had the strength to battle even a dumb fruit fly that can’t figure out how to crawl up through a paper funnel. Now here I stood, patting myself on the back, smiling in victory.

Worried though, that they had laid 4,000,000 eggs somewhere, I had to gut and bleach the kitchen and the dining room. For my own sanity. I’m not a bug lover, especially in mass quantities. So far, so good.

Once I did that, I decided, that the rest of the house looked like crap. I do that with cleaning and with decorating. My mom laughs because I can buy something as innocuous as a new soap dish and within 24 hours will have completely redone my entire bathroom.

It’s like that ankle bone’s connected to the shin bone song.

The new soap dish makes the toothbrush holder look like shit, which leads me to buy a new one and then, of course, it doesn’t compliment the towels. The new towels don’t look good with the paint and the next thing you know, I am at Home Depot trying to decide which paint chip matches the closest under the fluorescent lights. It happens every time.

My mom can laugh all she wants. She is the same way. I inherited that from her.

Several years ago, hubby and I scrimped and saved and then splurged on a 60” Sony Hi-Def widescreen TV. It is a work of art in my opinion and I couldn’t wait to show it off to my parents. They sat drooling over the picture quality and then my mom decided that this new TV made my couches look like shit. Can’t have that. Mom and Dad left my house and unbeknownst to me bought a beautiful black leather sectional and had it delivered to my high tech family room. They totally rock!

Back to my story, I cleaned like a madwoman. Scrubbed, threw out and donated to charity. I even built a shoe storage holder for my closet. Most of my shoes don’t actually fit in the little spaces, though, so they remain on the floor of my closet.

It does make me look organized, no? (Yes, that is vintage 70’s green shag carpeting. I know you’re jealous)


My thoughts whirring alongside my electric screwdriver, I also decided that what I needed was a hope chest at the foot of my bed. This is what happens when the hubby is away at work too much. I start getting all these ideas.

I went to the store and found a “you have to assemble it yourself” hope chest, but I didn’t like the pattern of the fabric. I took it anyway, built it and threw my faux fur jungle throw over it. It’s all about the texture, people. Tarzan and Jane have nothing on me.

I know you’re wondering what I put in the hope chest, right?

Nothing. Yes, absolutely nothing yet, but that’s ok. I like it.

Once the inside was done, I had to do something with the outside. It is almost Halloween, after all, and I had no decorations outside. Anymore. I did have decorations outside but they all blew away all over the neighborhood and I was tired of retrieving them, so I took them all down.

I wanted a small little cemetery on my front lawn and decided to go for the bad boy stakes this time and I used shish-ke-bob skewers to keep them in the ground. Certainly not the best Halloween display, but it makes me happy. I put a blinking skeleton in there for effect, too.

Speaking of skeletons, I also read three books by Kathy Reichs. Kathy is a forensic anthropologist and writes books about a fictional anthropologist/crime fighter gal name Temperance Brennan. Temperance, by the way, is the featured character on the TV show, BONES.

The books were all excellent, really, and they give me a small chance to use the seven years of French and two semesters of Anatomy classes that I took. You don’t need to know French or Anatomy to enjoy the books, though. If you like Patricia Cornwell and Janet Evanovich, you will like Kathy Reichs, too.

While browsing the bookstore, I picked up a book called “Bitter Is The New Black”, by Jen Lancaster. Jen is a Chicago blogger turned actual book author and I’m 100 or so pages into her book and am hooked. She is snarky, snotty, stuck up and yet as funny as hell. She is bad, bad, bad to the bone and I love her. Her blog can be found at www.jennsylvania.com. After I read this one, her book #2 is next on my list.

I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a novel during the month of November. There is some novel writing challenge going on (I don’t have the link and am too lazy to look it up right now) and I’m thinking I could write a “blook” too. A bloggish book. It might be fun!

So many ideas, so little time. Right now I’m off to sip a a very weak rum and coke with a squeeze of lime and enjoy another guilty pleasure…this week’s Desperate Housewives.

House? Yes. Wife? Yes. Desperate? Nope!

Despite the fly fiasco, things are better than ever!

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The Sweetest Words

October 23, 2007 at 3:11 pm · Filed under Uncategorized

I’m one of those people that can go to a grocery store with a list clenched in my hand and still not come home with everything that I needed to buy. Hey, there’s a lot of things to distract you in a grocery store!

Fortunately, for me, there is a convenience store right by my house that literally has everything in the world anyone might need. Seriously. I have never seen such a well-stocked convenience store anywhere.

That place used to be a dump. It was dirty and there was little stock on the shelves and what was there had usually expired by like a year or so. I always wondered how the heck it even stayed open, but that question was answered when the owners got busted for running an illegal gambling operation out of the back room. When I forgot something back then, I had to go back to the big grocery store.

About three years ago, a young guy named Ron bought the place. His family had been in the convenience store business forever and he wanted one of his own. He cleaned it up and remodeled it. Once Ron had the place, you could walk in there and literally get anything you could ever need. There might have only been one brand to choose from, but the item was there.

He prided himself on this and was constantly researching the most purchased items. His customers were important to him and from the first time you went in, he remembered your name.

As I said, I forget things at the grocery store all the time, so I saw a lot of Ron who was always in the store and behind that register from open to close.

Ron was one of those people who you just meet and feel like you know. He was so open with details about his life, his upcoming wedding and his family. He was always reading the newspaper and while he was checking out your purchases, he’d ask what you thought about the day’s hot topics. The conversations we had over many two minute periods of time were rather amazing. Ron also spoke a lot of his culture and would teach me some Hindu words now and then. He said I was a quick study.

He also really liked food and he knew my husband liked to cook and was always asking for new recipes that he could try out. Sometimes, if we had a bunch leftover, I’d pack up a plate and bring it to Ron. His appetite was insatiable. His favorite was my husband’s beer can chicken. A lot of people brought food in for Ron. Something about him just made you want to do that. I don’t know what it was.

One night last year, I was running like crazy with the kids and decided it was so late, we were just going to have French Toast for dinner. As I opened my fridge, though, I realized I had no eggs. I went to the convenience store and saw Ron sitting behind the counter.

“What are you making?” he asked.

I told him French Toast and he went on with this entire description about how much he loved French Toast especially with all of the trimmings like cinnamon, vanilla and whipped cream.

I thought he was hinting so I told him I would make him some and bring it right back. I was kind of surprised when he said no thank you. He looked under the weather and said that his stomach was incredibly upset. He was feeling so sick that he was thinking of closing the store early.

Very unRonlike. But he did ask if I could maybe bring him some French Toast when he felt better.

I said “Of course, see you tomorrow!” and wihtout even looking back, I walked out the door.

The next afternoon I stopped at the store after work to grab a cup of coffee and saw a strange man behind the counter.

“Where’s Ron?” I asked.

The man’s eyes filled with tears and he let me know that Ron had passed away the night before in his sleep. They didn’t know what had happened at that time.

That was a year ago, today.

Ron had just had his 30th birthday the week before and he was to be getting married in just three short weeks.

The news hit me hard and I was overwhelmingly heartbroken. I didn’t even know Ron’s last name, but he was someone I considered a friend.

It’s funny, but the minute or two you’d spend with Ron was kind of like French Toast trimmings. French Toast is kind of plain without that stuff and Ron was the kind of person who added that little bit of extra sprinkle to your everyday life.

It turned out that Ron had an undiagnosed heart problem and rapidly went into complete heart failure.

I still miss him and from now on every October 23rd will be “French Toast” night.

I never told Ron about how much I enjoyed our conversations or how many times he brightened my day with a little joke, story or opinion. If I knew the two minutes talking about French Toast would have been my last two minutes with Ron, I definitely would have told him something else.

My point is that we never know. We never know what our future’s hold despite all of our best planning and preparation.

If Ron’s passing taught me one thing, it was that I was going to make sure that the important people in my life know I feel about them every day. I don’t want my last conversation with someone I care about to end with two meaningless words like “French Toast” ever again.

I make sure my conversations are now sprinkled with sweet words…and not cinnamon, vanilla and whipped cream, either..

My sweet words are “I Love You!”

Make sure everyone you care about knows that you do.

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We Are Family

October 20, 2007 at 3:57 pm · Filed under cousins, family tree, genealogy

Did it surprise anyone this week to learn that Dick Cheney and Barack Obama were eighth cousins? I think it’s interesting, but not all that surprising.

By the time you trace back that far each person alone has 512 great great great great great great great great grandparents. That is a lot of people and countless branches to be related to someone!

Have you ever found out you were related to someone you already know?

That’s happened to me twice, actually. Genealogy interests me and I did have a pretty comprehensive family tree completed on my mother’s side, except for one missing piece.

Since irony is the story of my life, this missing piece was filled in by someone I really hoped never to hear from again.

Long ago, my grandfather’s grandfather’s brother had a serious falling out with the family. So serious, in fact, that he completely disowned them and changed his name so as never to be associated with them again. I did know what that name was, but it was just far too common a name to extensively search and frankly, I’m wasn’t THAT interested to do all of that work.

Long story short, when I was a teenager, I had a stalker of sorts. I’m not sure anyone called anyone a stalker back then, though.

This guy that I worked with at a pharmacy (he was about 10 years older and the pharmacist) was insistent on dating me. I was not interested in him and all and being “jail bait” at the time, I thought his preoccupation with me was a little strange. He was always bringing me gifts, sending me flowers, happening to be in my neighborhood, showing up where I happened to be, etc. My mother told him if he didn’t back off she’d kill him at which point he asked her out. Weirdo.

Fortunately, for me, stalker found the woman of his dreams and continues to live happily ever after with her. Funny thing is, even I thought the girl he married reminded me of…well, me. Our co-workers teased me incessantly about this.

Skipping ahead, when the internet became readily available, I poked around a few genealogy sites and found a post by a woman whose last name was the same as the missing branches on my family tree and she was looking for people with my family surname. Goodness! I had to respond!

Her name was Ruth and I e-mailed her and we spoke a bit and determined we were third cousins. She came to one of my family reunions, satisfied her curiosity, I guess because I never saw or heard from her again.

A few years later, I get a phone call from….my stalker! Without even exchanging pleasantries, wants to know if a man named “Stanley X” is my grandfather.

Why is this idiot calling me and how did he get my unlisted phone number?

Stanley X was not my grandfather, but he was close. Stanley X’s brother, Dale, is my grandfather. Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I gave him this information.

He screamed “Oh MY God!” into the phone. I still had no idea why he wanted to know this.

He then told me that his wife, the one I always thought reminded me of me, is my third cousin.

How on earth did he figure that out?

Well, it turns out that while he was researching his wife’s lineage, he came across the X name. Ruth, the woman I met online and stalker’s wife are first cousins. When stalker asked Ruth if she knew anything about the “X” side of the family, to his utter shock, she gave him my name.

Stalker had accumulated a huge amount of information about my missing branches and he e-mailed me the entire list.

I quickly scanned it over and I was shocked to discover that I already knew somebody else on the list.

If you go back a couple of posts to my daughter’s Homecoming pictures, you will see a third girl in the pics I refer to as “Cousin K”. She is a close friend of Middle Daughter’s and when I first met her, I remarked out loud at how physically similar she looked to my kids.

Needless to say, it was K’s name that I discovered on the family tree. K was instantly promoted from being just a friend to a 5th cousin to my children. K’s father and I are fourth cousins.

I’m convinced this is why people sometimes see similarities between two apparently unrelated people. There’s probably some long lost relation between the two.

A few years ago, it was determined that mathematically, everyone on earth would find that they are directly descended from The Egyptian Queen, Nefertiti. Not only Nefertiti, but everyone in the world can supposedly trace a common ancestor to Confucius, as well.

If this is true, then somehow you are all related to me,The Rock Chick. We are family. This is something to celebrate, so….get up everybody and sing!

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Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

October 17, 2007 at 3:47 pm · Filed under Sweetest Day

And I’m not going to disagree. Nope! This Saturday is Sweetest Day and I actually didn’t forget.

I don’t normally forget important days. I don’t use any kind of calendar and I never write anything down, but I always remember people’s birthdays and these so-called “Hallmark Holidays”.

When we first started dating, my hubby surprised me one Saturday night with a box of chocolates and a beautiful, poetic, romantic card that made my eyes well up with tears. I am a weeping willow. I can’t help it. Once I cried for a contestant on The Price Is Right because I was so happy for her. In my defense, I was pregnant and hormonal at the time, but it is a true story.

I call those kinds of cards “Buck Lovies” because that’s what my dad used to call them. My mom always wanted those sappy Valentine’s Day cards and my dad used to joke that they were too expensive. They cost a dollar (expensive for cards at the time I imagine) so “Buck Lovies” came to be.

What was the occasion that sent hubby in search of dark chocolates, Buck Lovies and whispers of sweet nothings in my ear?

Sweetest Day.

I have to be honest. I can’t say I had heard of Sweetest Day until that evening. I felt like a total loser. Where did this day come from and why didn’t I know about it? I am romantic, after all. I don’t even have a 24 hour limit on Valentine’s Day. With me, you get an entire week of celebration and no VD jokes. How on earth could something called “Sweetest Day” get under my radar? I hate when things like that happen.

Truth be told, I don’t know. I do know that for some reason, I can’t seem to remember it every year.

After a little investigating, I learned that Sweetest Day was not really designed to be a romantic holiday, like Valentine’s Day. It pretty much is only celebrated in the midwestern United States and it was originated by a candy maker years and years ago for people to remember and give sweet treats to the orphans, the old folks, the sick, the poor and of course, newsboys.

As a first generation Sesame Streeter, I’m thinking…one of these things doesn’t belong here…

Why newsboys? I have no idea, but I’m sure spreading the word to sell more candy probably had something to do with it. Just a guess on my part. I’m not really Nancy Drew, you know, I just play her on the internet.

Somewhow the tone of the day turned more romantic and this year I remembered. I have the hubby’s Buck Lovie and gift all ready to go!! The hubby doesn’t care for sweets, though. He prefers things a little more on the spicy side. Hey, who am I to disagree? ;)

Don’t forget your sweeties this Saturday!

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Read Between The Lines

October 15, 2007 at 7:05 pm · Filed under Ann Rule, books, reading, serial killers

Since I’m sitting here today shivering with fever and a sore throat from some unknown virus, I thought I’d catch up on some blogging.

I’ve been on a reading kick lately. I always read, usually it’s blogs and tabloid magazines. I still read those, of course, but now I’ve been kicking back a few books, too.

As promised, I did read “Chasing The Devil” by Dave Reichert, who was the lead investigator in the 20+ year hunt for The Green River Killer. His account was very detailed if you are interested in serial criminals and it gave another perspective to the story that I read in Ann Rule’s book about the same subject “Green River, Running Red”.

What I do find amusing is “reading between the lines” of non-fiction books. Fortunately, few people are so sociopathic that they are emotionless and even though it wasn’t said outright, I got the impression that while Ann Rule may have the highest praises for Dave Reichert’s detective work, she might not have been all that crazy about him personally. I don’t know if that’s true, it’s just my perception, but if it is accurate, I can understand why. He’s a weeeeee bit on the arrogant side. Still, the book was great and I learned quite a bit.

When I was done with that one, I went back to Ann Rule and read “Worth More Dead”. This book tells the stories of several true cases involving murder for money.

Greed. It always does people in.

I watch Deal or No Deal and I wonder if those contestants are insane. I don’t think anyone has hit the proverbial jackpot on that show. Take The Deal, Dummy!! If you’re thinking of hiring a hitman to collect life insurance money…forgetaboutit. They will either screw it up, not do it at all and/or go to the police. Even if it appears to go off without a hitch, you will still be the number one suspect and when they arrest the hitman for leaving trace at the scene, he will take the deal offered to him. You won’t win.

And finally, I read Ann Rule’s “Lust Killer”. The lust killer in this story, Jerry Broudos, is really a serial killer, but they didn’t use that terminology in the late 60’s when he was out there trolling the streets. The book, as hers always are, is well written with quite a detailed biography of the subject. These lust killers rarely start out killing. Their perversions, fantasies and emotional/mental disorders accelerate through the years until the time comes that they do start killing. Once that happens, they don’t stop until they are captured or dead. The Green River Killer appears to have been able to maybe put a halt to his behaviors for a while, but once a stressor occurs in their lives, back to killing they go.

I know, I know, it’s a depressing subject to read about, but I find it fascinating. I used to believe that these serial killers were merely born that way, but I really no longer believe that. I do believe that mentally there is something wrong with them, but reading bio after bio of serial killers, there are some definite similarities in upbringing, too. It’s nature and nurtured, in my opinion and fortunately, these types are far from the norm.

The next book I’m reading is actually fiction! I found it on a side display at the bookstore and thought I would check it out.

It’s “Cross Bones” by Kathy Reichs and it’s claimed to be “a spirited rival to the Da Vinci Code”, which by the way, was one of my favorite books ever. I still don’t get all the controversy considering it’s clearly marked fiction on the cover.

Hopefully, this one will be just as good! I’ll be sure to let you know.

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Who Says You Can’t Go Home?

October 15, 2007 at 2:14 pm · Filed under Bon Jovi, cheerleading, dance, football, homecoming

You all know where I was on Saturday Night, right? Parked in front of my TV set watching the superluscious Jon Bon Jovi host Saturday Night Live.

I can’t say that I’m a big SNL fan. I was at one time, but it seems to have lost it’s oomph for me. Whatever Bon Jovi is on, though, I will watch. I think he did ok. The best part was Richie Sambora forgetting his lines in the monologue. Looked like a big case of stage fright there, which kind of surprised me!

The only thing I wasn’t crazy about was Bon Jovi’s hair. It looked like this.

Bon Jovi, if you’re reading this…this is your best hairdo. Just something to keep in mind :)

It was actually perfect timing that JBJ was on SNL because I was staying awake very late on Saturday night waiting for my daughters to get back from the Homecoming Dance.

My daughters go to the same high school that the hubby and I went to many moons ago and I loved high school. It was a time of so many firsts…first dances, first dates, kisses, jobs, solos, cars..the list and the memories go on. Sometimes it all does seem a million miles away, but I carry it with me all the time.

It was a time of little responsibility and huge dreams. It was a time of dramas and traumas that at the time seemed enormous, but now make me giggle a little bit, if they don’t turn me into my mother, that is.

This week was Homecoming week at the high school. I’m at the school frequently because of the kids activities, but homecoming holds special meaning to me as an alumna. I am not just a mom there watching my kids, I am teenage Jessica again, shivering while cheering on an always losing football team (some things never change) and feeling a strong compulsion to paint a glittery blue and white “ME” on my face and swing some pompons. I can’t help it. Now I may be a wife and a mom, but I am also a Demon, through and through.

We started on Wednesday night with my Oldest Daughter playing for the Juniors in the Powder Puff football game. It’s a charity event and the seniors always win, but she had a great time and she looked so cute with those little black marks under her eyes.


Thursday night was the firelight rally and that was always my favorite homecoming event in high school. Class games, Homecoming Kings and Queens and marching bands. At the end of the rally, they light up a big ME while the marching band plays the school pep song and the crowd goes wild. It’s very school spirity. I’ve seen it many times and to me, it’s still just as cool as it was back then.


Friday night we had the football games. I’m really not a big football fan and I might just be a little biased, but this school has two of the cutest cheerleaders I’ve ever seen!

Saturday was spent “getting beautiful” for the Homecoming Dance. After finding some very shiny silver flats, Oldest Daughter didn’t even wear flip flops! As you can see, I’m pretty sure I had the most gorgeous girls at the dance.

Cousin K and the dates showed up and I made them take some of the standard dance pics, like this one, you know, to appease the mom in me…

And then I let them take the mandatory silly poses that always end up being the best pictures. These aren’t Charlie’s Angels, people, they are mine!

The girls (and me!) had a great time this week! Who says you can’t go home? Whoever it is..they are wrong. Once I park my butt on those cold bleachers, it feels like I never left. That’s how my story goes.

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Stuck In The Middle (Hysteria Lane)

October 12, 2007 at 6:36 pm · Filed under Uncategorized

I realized it’s been a while since I wrote an “Hysteria Lane” post about my neighbors. There’s a reason for this. I rarely see the Desperate Housewives anymore.

Gabrielle and Carlos divorced after Gabrielle’s affair with their son’s football coach. Gabi thought that Mr. Football was going to leave his family and they’d all live happily ever after with their future little linebackers and cheerleaders. Didn’t happen. Mr. Football dumped Gabi as soon as she and Carlos sold their home and she moved out. We’ve maintained our friendship with Carlos and Gabi, well, she has moved on to new miniskirted bar-hopping friends. That’s ok with me, because I never much cared for Gabrielle to begin with.

Now I’m hearing a similar story about Lynette and Tom across the street. I’ve always been close to Lynette and Tom and they have four children who are similar ages to mine and the hubby’s. We are godparents to each other’s children and while Lynette and I are very close, Tom and my hubby seem to have the strongest of the friendships.

Tom used to come over regularly and watch boxing or have a few beers, but in the last couple of months, he has been strangely absent.

I had a feeling something was up because I haven’t heard from either of them in over a month. Saturday was Lynette’s birthday, so I walked over there with her present. She recently started teaching pre-school, so I bought her a bunch of felt things you put on felt boards. Yes, I have kids and no, I don’t know anything about all that stuff. It’s irrelevant to my story, anyway.

I sat on the couch with Lynette and admired her new, rather extravagant, MacBook laptop that Tom surprised her with for her birthday. She didn’t seem that thrilled with it. I asked her why and didn’t expect the answer that I heard. She said she’s sure Tom bought it because he’s having an affair and he doesn’t want her in his laptop which she had previously been using until he “forgot the password”. She’s just suspicious, she doesn’t know for sure. My thinking is that if you are suspicious, you probably have reason to be.

Forgot the password to his work laptop that he uses every single day? LOL. Oh yeah, that’s a good one.

This would be Tom’s second offense, too. The first was about 7 years ago and believe me, I was waiting for the girl he was involved with to start boiling rabbits or something like in Fatal Attraction. That was really ugly.

Maybe I’m wrong there, I don’t know, but I think this time Tom isn’t going to get another chance to swing before he’s out.

Not all that shockingly because I’m sure Lynette told him that she told me her suspicions, shortly after our conversation, Tom came over to hang out and have a few beers.

Here’s my pickle… Do I say something? Do I hit him over the head with a frying pan? Do I pretend I don’t know even though he knows darn well that I do?

I figured if he wants to talk about it, he’ll bring it up. He’s been over almost every day and still hasn’t said anything, but then Lynette calls and wants to know everything he has said and if I’m on her side. Sides? I can’t pick sides. I love them both.

I am staying 100% completely stuck in the middle on this one.

You all know that I don’t condone this kind of thing at all. But there’s also the side of me that loves my friends and just because they may have succumbed to temptation, it certainly doesn’t make them bad people and doesn’t change my feelings about them at all.

It’s easy to be mad because of somebody’s poor judgment, but truth be told, I think the pain involved in affairs affects both spouses. It may not be the same kind of pain, but I don’t necessarily know that one is worse than the other. And..I’m pretty sure that both of them need someone objective to talk to.

Once again, this is a crazy time on Hysteria Lane. Now everyone knows why I routinely just stay in my house :) I’m really hoping everything works out without too much drama.

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Head Over Heels

October 9, 2007 at 1:17 pm · Filed under dresses, heels, homecoming

It totally happened yesterday. I turned into my mother.

Don’t get me wrong, my mom is a great person. I’m crazy about her and now that I’m all grown up, she is not only my mom, but one of my best friends as well.

Still…

Yesterday we went on a shopping spree to a mall the size of Montana in search of Homecoming dresses for my two oldest daughters. Homecoming is this Saturday and there’s nothing quite like waiting ‘til the last minute to do these things. We didn’t wait on purpose, this really was the first opportunity we’ve had to go shopping.

After hiking 30 or so miles through the mall, we finally found dresses that fit, weren’t too revealing and were acceptable colors to the girls. Great! Well, it was great until it came time to accessorize and buy shoes.

That’s when I turned into my mother.

My oldest daughter and I are the same height. 5’ 9”. In high school, that translates to very tall. A head taller than most of the girls and taller than the boy that asked you to Homecoming, that’s for sure.

We started to look at some shoes and Middle Daughter found a pair that she liked. Middle Daughter is only 5’ 3” so she doesn’t have the high heel, taller than the boys worry.

I asked Oldest Daughter if she found a pair of shoes and she replied she didn’t need them because she was just going to wear flip flops.

Flip flops?! Listen missy, I just dropped $130 on a dress and you’re going to wear flip-flops with it?

I didn’t exactly say that, but it sure did pop into my head.

I did say “That’s ridiculous. I’m sure your date won’t care that you are taller than he is.”

UGH!

My 5’ 5” mom used to say that to me when I would go on massive hunts to find flat dress shoes. It’s high school! Of course he cares and if he didn’t care, I sure as hell did!

But flip flops? There are so many cute flats, even dressy ones out there.

I got the much practiced teenage eyeroll. “Mom, you just take your shoes off at the dance anyway”.

Ok, I remember that, too…but what about the pictures!

“Don’t get my feet in them” she said.

Middle Daughter was picking out earrings and I asked Oldest Daughter if she would like a necklace to go with her dress. No, she said, she was going to wear one of those candy necklaces because the blue candy would be the perfect color.

Candy necklaces and flip flops? Good Lord.

My sister, who accompanied us on our shopping trip, just looked at me and said “head band”, recalling the argument I had with my mother about wearing one of those thin 80’s headbands with my gorgeous prom dress. My mom thought it looked “asinine”, I thought it looked totally awesome!

I shut up right then.

I had been in my daughter’s shoes at one and although they weren’t flip flops, they occasionally still fit, like when my wedding photographer asked me to take my heels off for some of the pictures.

Oldest Daughter’s a good kid, sometimes even as sweet as the candy necklace she wants to wear and if she ever does give me headaches, I still have the headband to help ease the pain.

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Song Sung Blue

October 7, 2007 at 3:48 pm · Filed under Cubs, black, blue, gigs, tears

Last night was definitely sad for Cubs fans. The sweet song of success is once again over for Chicago’s boys in blue, but believe me, they weren’t the only ones weeping like a willow this weekend.

Despite the fact that the Cubbies haven’t won a World Series since 1908 and that whole Billy Goat Curse thing, Chicago Cubs fans remain loyal and faithful. Probably no one more so than my 95 year old grandfather. He watches every single game and despite having to say “next year we’ll get ‘em” for the past 95 years, he still believes every year that this year is that year. I definitely get my determined loyal and faithful attitude from him.

I watched with the hubby who has been wondering during the last three games if someone had spiked their Gatorade. It was painful for me to look at and I totally admit to being a fair weather sports fan. I don’t watch regular seasons of anything. My poor hubby was disappointed, no doubt.

Hard to believe in family full of Cubs fans, my son would be born being a White Sox fan. I think that is almost sacrilege living on the north side of Chicago and probably genetically impossible, but that’s the way it is. There’s been many baseball debates in our house between father and son containing all sorts of terminology I don’t even pretend to understand.

Last week before the series started and despite my hubby’s objections, my son predicted the Diamondbacks would knock out the Cubs in three games. Unfortunately, he was right. It’s a song sung blue.

As I said, they weren’t the only ones weeping. I had my own “song sung blue” experience this past weekend, only the song wasn’t blue, it was black. Black Betty, actually. The color doesn’t really make a difference, though.

My rock star friend, The Big BahUna and his band are dis-banding and Friday night was their last official gig. Needless to say, The Rock Chick was more than a little blue about this. I completely understand, of course, but selfishly speaking, few things in life allow me the total escapism of rock chicking. I love loud (the louder the better) rock music, spending time with friends, dancing and weirdo watching, all of which are easily found at BahUna gigs.

I’m also just a wee bit attached to all of the people involved. Even if some of them push me over the edge once in a while, they are still my friends and I will miss seeing all of them on a regularly scheduled basis.

At the end of the show, the crowd was screaming for one more song. I doubt anyone there wanted one more song more than me.

I promised myself I would be strong and I was good until I had to say goodbye to my regular dancing partners. One of them said “I’m not sure when we’ll see each other again” and bam-a-lam, no more rock steady, I lost it. I’m a cry baby. I can’t help it.

I even tried biting the inside of my cheek to hold the tears back, but it didn’t work and I started crying right in the middle of the bar. Bad gigs, good gigs, incredible gigs and even the suckiest gig ever, I will miss it and them, too. Up, down, all around, it was indeed a great ride!

Like the Cubbie fans year after year, I will get over it. My brown eyes may look a little blue (and black streaked…darn mascara!), but they still see rock stars in my friends and a pretty darn good Rock Chick in me :)

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