Getting To Know Me

It's interesting, this blogging community. Sometimes you think you can tell what a person is like by reading what they write, and maybe you can...sometimes. But people have lots of layers and lately, my Pessimistic Grumpy layer has been revealing itself. I've decided (after re-reading my promise to myself at the beginning of the new year to find my joy) to slough off that layer and let the real Amy out.

So, for those of you who think you know me by reading my crappy poetry and my gloomier (if it's not a word, it should be) blogs, here are some things you probably wouldn't know about me by reading my blogs:

1. I have no middle name. Actually, I do…now. When I married Mr. Right, I kept my maiden name as my middle name. Bada bing-bada boom. Unfortunately, my maiden name is 10 letters long, so I only use the initial.

2. I can spread my toes out on both feet into perfect fans. Throw in some webbing and I’d be a duck. This talent came in really handy when I wanted to run my sisters off so I could have their place on the couch to watch t.v. I’d throw the old feet up on the coffee table, fan out the toes and bodies scattered.

3. I have a nervous habit of pushing back my cuticles. Nervous habit = well groomed hands.

4. I love spicy food and can hold my own against most grown men when it comes to Scoville units.

5. I will try almost any food so long as it was not once an organ in a living thing. My mother tried to starve me during my childhood by frequently serving liver and onions. I didn’t know about D.H.S. then or I would have called.

6. I am a snob and have disdain for those who won’t even TRY new food. Oh…and just because you tried it once…when you were 10…doesn’t get you out of having to try it now. (Yes…I’ve tried liver, and tongue and…oh gag. I can’t go on.)

7. I love music and love to dance. (I hope to someday be the oldest living club hag. Maybe not. That just made me kind of sad thinking about it.)

8. I am 1/16 Cherokee, but I’m mostly German and French. This might go some ways in explaining my love of Grandmother Earth, my yen for good bread and my lack of a decent chin.

9. I read banned books because #1, they’ve been banned and I won’t have anyone telling me I can’t read them and #2, because if there’s something out there someone doesn’t want me to read, you can bet your aunt’s pajamas there’s some really good shit in there.

10. People think I’m mad when I’m not. My Deep in Thought look greatly resembles the look of someone who has just been urinated on. This is an impediment which I cannot seem to overcome.

11. I love books. Not just the reading of them, but actually the having of them. I would love to have a gigantic library in my home someday filled with tons of books. Then of course, I would need a gigantic tree in my back yard under which I would read. It’s the very best place for reading.

12. I get choked up every time I sing our National Anthem. (Except for when some yahoo sings it and completely jacks it up beyond recognition.)

13. My favorite candy is Smarties. I believe they’ve made me smarter.

14. I am 5’4” but thought I was 5’2” for two years. When my now husband and I were dating he asked how tall I was and I told him 5’4”. He said he didn’t believe it so he got out a tape measure and measured me. He said, “See?” and showed me the tape measure. Sure enough…5’2”. For the next two years I put 5’2” as my height on any form that asked. One day at my doctor’s office, he measured me and I said, “How tall does it say I am?” He said, “5’4.”” My husband looked at me and grinned from ear to ear.

15. I never believe anything my husband says.

16. I love salt. I salt everything except things that are sweet.

17. I have low blood pressure. Low enough that I have to list it on doctors and dentists forms. I love this because it pisses my mom off. She always rode me about salting everything, guaranteeing me that I was going to have astronomically high blood pressure.

18. I am married to the Perfect Man…for me. His name is Mr. Right. (Mr. Always Right.)

19. I used to be a disc-jockey. At a country music station. I hate country music.

20. I believe in random acts of kindness and try to find opportunities for them as often as possible. (Yes, I’m shallow and vain and sometimes crude…but I’m nice. Shut up. I am.)

21. I’m a Neatnik and am fine with it. Some people seem almost insulted by it. What’s wrong with neat? Neat is good.

22. I have completely inappropriate thoughts at completely inappropriate times. I manage to control it… mostly…and they just stay in my head. They’ve not stayed in my head enough times for me to have been dubbed as “weird” on more than one occasion. I used to hate the “weird” label but strangely, I’ve come to think of it as a compliment. It means I’m not one of the herd. Or, maybe I’m just weird.)

23. Thanks to my weird mother (Her name is Barbara. It means “strange”. Look it up. I swear), I use old-fashioned words and phrases in my everyday speech. (I also use a lot of Yiddish. Oy.) My tween daughter, The Snot, didn’t speak to me for a week because I used the word “shindig” in front of her friends. I’ve promised her I won’t use that word in front of her friends anymore. I’ll say, “hootenanny.”

24. I used to be the personal assistant to a Rabbi. (Bingo! Now the Yiddish thing becomes clear!) I worked in a synagogue that practiced a completely kosher tradition. I used to sneak beef jerky in and eat it while making copies in the copy room. I don’t believe in Hell, but if it turns out there is one, I’m going.

25. I loathe scary movies. My imagination is way too overactive to handle them. After seeing, I Am Legend, at the theatre, I didn’t sleep for days. I also wouldn’t go into a dark room for about three months. I had to start watching re-runs of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air just to convince myself that Will Smith was okay. I will not go to a scary movie with you. Don’t ask.

So, there you have it.

Oh...the picture is of me when I was four. This was my very favorite dress and my very favorite necklace. My sisters were horrified when they found out that our mother was taking me to their school to have my picture taken on picture day. They begged her not to let me wear that necklace with that dress. To this day, it's one of my very favorite pictures. (Thanks, Mom.)

Proceed With Caution

A realization just hit me. I've been censoring myself. Damn it!

When I started this blog, it was a vehicle (a cute little lavender diesel VW bug) for me to vent a little, journal a little, shoot off my loud mouth a little, etc. No one even knew I existed out here in Cyberland.

Then, somehow it seemed that overnight, a few people were reading what I was writing. Some of these people were strangers, some were extended family and some were in-laws. Without noticing, I began to self-censor what I was writing.

Don't get me wrong here. Self-censorship is the only censorship I think should exist. But, I was not writing certain things...like swear words...because I knew that some of the people reading might be offended.

Last night as I was laying in bed going through my usual ritual of trying to sleep but failing to do so before Mr. Right started his nightly freight train impressions, I was thinking about my blog (This is a strange new malady I've been struck with) and the censoring thereof, and suddenly remembered that my original blog post was a caveat of sorts. I believe I actually warned any possible future readers that I'm a loud mouth who likes to swear. I think it also contained a warning about my religious and political views. It was kind of a warning label, a buyer beware.

So, I'm uncensoring myself. In a way. I still will attempt to not write anything that I feel would personally hurt someone but can't quite help it if someone finds something in what I write that is offensive. I gotta be me!!

So, off we go. Feel free to come along for the ride. (Bring a cocktail or two. I'm not really driving.)

Virtual Frustration

This word verification issue on blogger is annoying, no? I've decided to circumvent the system and have my say anyway.

*Amy Dubdbub - Regarding your Ina post: I love to cook with Ina and Paula! Eric & I tune in Sandra Lee for comic relief. We tune her in just so we can heckle her. (Yes, we're really that shallow.) And to Bob who commented: I can't believe you don't watch Sandra Lee! Her "abilities" are cracka-lackin!

*Alice - Regarding your spectacular Monday: I'm so happy that your day turned out to be such a nice one! And, what are you thinking?! Working out for two hours?! I started breathing heavily just reading that.

*Reya - Regarding your Steal This Book post: How do you keep coming up with these brilliant and beautiful metaphors?! I love reading what you write.

*CherryDawn - Regarding your comment: Thanks so very much for dropping in! Your comment was much appreciated.

*Angie - Regarding your book a day: I'm going through withdrawal! Hurry up, Blogger.com!!!

So, there. Just try and stop me from having my say!

A Love Note

While reading an article the other day, I ran across this tidbit:

"If you look around and you notice that all your friends are exactly the same as you, it's healthy to think something is wrong."

This made me stop and assess my friendships, past and present, and I must say...I'm pretty happy to find that my friendships continue to be diverse and colorful. My friends are all religions...or none at all, different cultural backgrounds and sexual orientations. For me, the diversity is what helps make my life seem interesting and full.

It's one of the cool things about belonging to the blogging community as well. You can interact with so many interesting people from all over the world and as you begin to read their thoughts, you see that you have tons in common with these wonderful people. It's further broadening my horizons and stretching my consciousness. Shazam!

Fellow bloggers Reya and Angela have both written blogs containing the idea of threads that weave us all together. It's such a lovely idea and it makes me think of quilts. A quilt of humanity, sewn together by assorted threads, resulting in a beautiful patchwork creation. I've always liked best, the quilts that have tons of various colors and patterns mixed up in them. To me, they're by far the most interesting and the most beautiful.

So, this is a little love note to my friends wherever they may be (sadly, most are so far away from me) and to my fellow bloggers. You add to my life and make it colorful and rich. I hope that as I weave my thread through the quilt, that I add something to yours as well.

Mob Mom

I'm beginning to think that my children aren't who they claim to be. I think they're members of the Capone family who turned state's evidence and entered the Witness Protection Program. They used my uterus as a clever hideout until it was safe to come out and now they live out their lives in this quiet little piece of Suburbia, strong arming their innocent "parents."

Sunday, Eric was preparing to wash his work car in the driveway and was gathering all of the equipment. The thirteen year old gang member, Fem Skinny A, inquired of him what he was doing. When he said, "Washing my car. Wanna help?" she narrowed her eyes and said, "For five dollars."

What?! I remember jumping at the chance to help one of my sisters wash their car in the front yard. It meant the opportunity to get wet and soapy and messy and that was reward alone!

The other gangster that lives in my house, Big Bubba B has mastered the skill of Will You Pay Half? He's also very skilled at, I Forgot My Wallet Can I Pay You Later? and, It's Only... (fill in amount here). He's so adept at these that he barely blinks an eye when he tries to pull one off.

Fem Skinny A has also really begun the strong arm tactics. When we ask her to babysit her four year old sister, she presses us with "How much you gonna pay me?" Or, "I may be available, I may not."

Again...what?!

I grew up in a family with five sisters and we NEVER got paid for babysitting. When my sister had kids, I babysat for them and it was a given that it would be pro bono. Now this little gangster thinks that allowing her sister to cut her own hair and destroy the house while we're gone deserves twenty bucks!

I'm not absolutely sure about the Capone connection here, but just to be safe, I've put in a call to Geraldo Rivera.

Ode To Joy

(I don't care who you are, this is just darn good advice.)

I don't know why, but when I saw this hanging on the wall in a restaurant, I erupted into laughter and couldn't stop giggling for a couple of minutes.

In school, I used to get kicked out of class for laughing. I never got kicked out of class for anything else, but sometimes things would just strike me as being unbearably hilarious and the snorting would commence and out I would go. The teacher would make me sit outside in the hall until I could calm down and somehow that made the situation all that more hysterical. Doors from the other classrooms down the hall would open and heads would poke out and I would hear, "Yep. It's Amy again."

The only high school reunion I've ever been to was my 15th. I arrived after dark to the backyard pool of the classmate that was hosting the party. My eyes hadn't adjusted to the lighting yet and I tripped over something and started laughing. As I did, I heard a choir of voices yell, "Amy's here!"

Laughter ranks right at the top of my list of favorite sounds. To me, it's incredibly viral and I have a weakened immune system to it and tend to catch it immediately. I have no shame in being the carrier of it either.

One of the things I find fantastically interesting is that we all cry and laugh in the same language. No matter where on this planet you live, what language you speak, what color, race or religion you are, we all speak the common languages of joy and despair.

How wonderful would life be if we all chose to speak the language of joy at every possible moment?

"Thy magic reunites those

Whom stern custom has parted;

All men will become brothers

Under thy gentle wing."

Partial lyrics from Ode To Joy

Lady In Waiting

Have you ever stopped to contemplate how much of our lives we spend waiting for things to happen? I haven't actually tallied it up, but it's a LOT.

I suppose there's some determination of character found in the spaces between the waiting. My character is still being formed. I haven't quite perfected the art of The Wait.

Wednesday I made the drive to Scottsdale to take care of pre-registering for my surgery and getting all of the pre-op lab work done, only to find that my surgery was getting postponed until March 7th.

Suddenly, the anxiety that I'd been feeling about having the surgery turned into frustration and disappointment. I had set my mind on February 20th and that was what my brain was prepared for. But now...I wait.

I ate two cupcakes tonight. Now I feel horrible. Not just sugar high/sugar crash horrible, but emotionally horrible. Those cupcakes were Frustration and Disappointment.

You see how I have some character building to do?