Category Archives: A Day In The Life

A day in the life of Marvi Marti

Saturday Coffee Musings…

Posted on by

2

Coffee cup with steamAnti-Stress & 31 oils in the diffuser - CHECK!

Relaxing Celtic harp music playing in the background – CHECK!

Hot cup of coffee within reach – CHECK!

Okay I can muse now.  :)  It is the weekend and for a change I have N-O-T-H-I-N-G I have to do.   No workshop, hair, nails or other appointments.  It’s all about doing not-a-darn-thing and I’m liking it.

Before I go any further, I wanted to explain that, upon seeing the movie, “Wreck-It Ralph” with Cowboy and my granddaughter, he and I jokingly refer to each other as Vanellope and Ralph.  We both related well to those characters.  He is actually more a blend of Ralph and Fix-It Felix.  Built a lot like Ralph, he goes on a job site and ‘wrecks’ it (rips out the damage), before his Felix side fixes the water/fire/storm damage.  He used to build houses, and has a very impressive portfolio of designer homes and buildings to his name, all over the world.  He is often misunderstood, like Ralph, but has a heart of gold.  Me…I relate to being a ‘glitch’.  I am a bona-fide misfit of sorts.  But remember, that glitch turns out to be a princess after all.  As I roll through this life I do have to remind myself at times that while I am a glitch, I’m the daughter of the King, the creator of this world, and while a prodigal one at that, I AM a princess.

Last night I had a few drinks and popcorn with my mom and niece, and fell asleep on mom’s bed while we all watched TV.  Earlier in the day I had received a call  from my other niece to check on me and be sure I was okay.  I am very fortunate to have a family that wraps around one of its own and loves them through the boo-boos life inflicts at times.

Ralph has checked on “Vanellope” a few times too, concerned about my heart and mind being bruised from the book I mentioned yesterday, and the unkind character assassination written of me.  Over many miles on his Harley (nearly 5,000) and many beers he has listened as I have shared my pain over not being with the ex, losing my home, and the close contact I had with my kids when I lived there.  My fun neighborhood and many friendships, all of which the ex retained “custody” of when he divorced me and kept the life I had been a part of.  Ralph, like many of my readers, knows how shattered I was through the divorce and he knows that the two most priceless people in this world, to me, are my son and daughter.   Naturally, he also knows that when someone hurts me I have a tendency to want to make them “bleed”.  I will go on the attack and do all I can to inflict back every drop of pain x 10 that they caused me.

I was hurting for my sister too, who, while it was credited to me and my insanity in the story, was attacked in the book as well.  My sister who has a friend from all the way back to high school. A beautiful woman with a beautiful spirit and voice, who is dying from liver cancer.  A woman who has praised God every single day throughout her chemo and battle that she is losing, dying a very unkind death, and yet she gives God glory in everything she does.  Her faith inspires so many of us, and has especially moved my sister.  When Jodi was losing her hair, she praised God that she is more than her hair, and many of her friends shaved their heads in support, as did my sister.  She went one step further and had a tattoo done on her scalp with a green ribbon (the symbol for liver cancer) and the words “for Jodi”, and until Jodi leaves this world all the ladies are staying bald with her.  My sister participated in a fund raiser to assist with her friend’s medical bills, and keeps us all updated. Jodi is currently recording a praise album, though her voice is starting to fail her as the cancer is sucking the life out of her, she never gives up and thanks God everyday.   This beautiful act of support and love for another, my sister shaving her head, was made fun of and made light of, in the book.  It broke my heart because it wasn’t enough to attack me, it was extended to my family members as well.

I went to bed only to wake up and cry some more during the night, and pray.  This morning I woke up with the following verse heavy on my mind and heart:

Ephesians 4:29

Expanded Bible (EXB)

29 Don’t ·say anything that will hurt others [L let any rotten/unhealthy word come from your mouth], but only say what is ·helpful [good] to ·make others stronger [build others up] ·and meet [L according to] their needs. Then what you say will ·do good [give grace; be a gift] to those who listen to you.

New King James Version (NKJV)

29 Let no corrupt word proceed out of your mouth, but what is good for necessary edification, that it may impart grace to the hearers.

I have meditated on it all day when I felt the urge to unleash a hell storm of emotion and try to strike back and inflict pain in return.  It has kept me in check.  There won’t be a tell all blog or book from me trashing my ex.  While he enjoys telling folks that there are no skeletons in his closet because they are seated in the open on the couch, I do know of plenty still hidden that he’d not want anyone, especially his children, to know.  Instead I will do as I have done for quite some time now:  pray for my ex and his new wife.  For peace, joy, good health and prosperity in their life, and in the lives of my children.

I may be a crazy, nutty, bleached out and sometimes pink haired glitch, but I am dearly loved by many, and loved by One who was willing to suffer and die to save my wretched soul.

I am a princess in the only royal family that matters.

And on that note, I will put the topic in a box to join others on the shelf of the past, behind me, where it belongs.

From The Top Of The Fence

Posted on by

4

Lately I’ve found myself perched on the fence which runs next to the road of life.  Through sunny days, rainy ones, even some that are cold and snowy, I’m just sitting here on the top, swinging my legs and thinking.  Some times I’m walking down memory lane, remembering the happy and not so happy times in my life.  Other days I am looking with great uncertainty at my future.  Then there are the days I’m just hanging on for dear life hoping not to fall off of this spot on the top rail and land on my tush in the mud puddle on the road side.

The reason I am sitting here is that I’m really uncertain which direction to go at the moment.  So many potential paths meet at this particular point on my life’s map and I just don’t know which one to start down, so I’m doing….nothing.  Wait, not true, I’m doing a lot, just in one place, not going forward down any road, or backward for the matter.  Just existing.

Confused? Me too.

I am at a growth point in my life where I know in my core there is something I am supposed to be doing and learning, right here on the fence….but what?

One of the things I am pondering, is combining my blogs.  While it may cost me some readers, it is too much to manage with my spiritual journey and life blogs.  My faith is part of me.  So, I will likely import it here and you, the faithful readers, can figure out which posts you wish to read from there on your own.

I need to simplify my life and start cutting negative people and forces from my sphere as well.

~*~

I wrote the above portion while eating lunch at work yesterday.  On the drive home I was tapped into my friend/boss, because he shoots straight but does it with the kindest of hearts and best of intentions.  He knows all of my dark secrets, the cracks in my shell, and has seen all the hues of my colorful personality and still loves me.  He has seen me at my worst, and at my best, and both make him laugh out loud.  And when he knows this powder keg personality of mine is in a situation where the potential for a huge explosion of either anger or crazy, over the top insane fun is about to occur, he just says, “Keep your clothes on, Ethel”.  That is my cue to stop, breathe, evaluate and dial down.   Though it isn’t fool-proof, it does have a tendency to cause me to at the least slow down.

So yesterday I picked his brain.  I knew that I have areas I need a little nip & tuck so to speak when it comes to improving me on the inside, I have been very resistant to examining myself.  But sooner or later that little voice gets through my very thick shell and I listen.  You cannot pray for guidance and then ignore it when it starts leaning on the doorbell to your heart.  I asked him some pointed questions about things he has said to me, knowing I was not likely to warmly embrace the answers but if I want honest input he is the one to dish it out, in bite size pieces for me to chew on.

He carefully placed a plank across the mud puddle, then helped me climb down off the fence and we started to walk down the path with the sign that says “needs attention”.  On this path we encountered “drama”.  I hate that word and wanted to turn around and run back to the fence, climb back up and pout.  But I had promised to listen with an open mind and heart, and I did ask for this, after all.  He prefaced what he said by reminding me that when it comes to people he loves and those he employees as his right arm, he doesn’t do dumb and doesn’t do boring.  Poor man, I am anything but boring, and his word, ‘colorful’, doesn’t scratch the surface.   And no I am not dumb, far from it.  I just tend to make poor choices when I’m pissed off.  I ‘react’ rather than think.  Which is what he was getting to with the drama.

He doesn’t think I am a drama queen, just that I tend to be a magnet for drama.  And when it does come my way I have a tendency to grab a stick and stir it up really good.  Oh heck, who am I kidding, I grab the industrial grade blender and set it on high, lid off so the contents go everywhere.  He did note that this only happens when someone hurts me, that it is in raw pain and emotion that I will go for the throat and rip someone’s jugular wide open and then stab them repeatedly while they are bleeding out.  I don’t know when in my life this started, though my childhood was full of being the misfit.  I am a card-carrying member of the Island Of Misfit Toys from “Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer”.  I have never felt like I fit in that I can remember.  A person can only take so much being knocked down and picked on before they start lashing out.  I built up the walls around me to protect myself, and behind that tough exterior is a very insecure woman who still hears the voices of her tormentors at times.

The boss heard me described as “emotional” once by the ex, but he prefers to call it passion.  I am very passionate no doubt about it, in every area of my life from love to work to….yeah let’s not go THERE.  And he doesn’t think it is a bad thing at all, says people with passion also have a real heart.  But the passion can over flow the banks of the river of emotion and then the tsunami like damage can be done.  He also pointed out that I cannot change that, it is who and what I am.  BUT I can change how I direct and use that passion.  I don’t always have to flood the land with negative emotion. He has seen the positive emotion over flow and finds it highly amusing and fun to be around- says it is what draws folks to me, because I am full of life and compassion too.  He has helped me more than once (“Keep your clothes on, Ethel”) when what I wanted to do was shred someone verbally and so while it stung to get into this area of my character, I was able to see that I can indeed maintain who I am, not bury or hide my passion, just redirect the currents when negative emotions start the waters rising.

That  ”come to Jesus” talk came in handy, and the timing was no doubt Divinely appointed.  See, when I got home last night and settled in after work, I came across a book that was recently published.  Seems the ex-hubster’s new wife is trying her hand at writing.  All in all it was a cute story, but I was cut deep by the ‘character’ of me and how others (ie: my children) view me in her tale.  I was given the name, Zelda.  Sounds like a wicked witch name, and yes I yanked open the broom closet but couldn’t find my magic means of evil transport.  What was written hurt, a LOT.  But with the earlier discussion still warm in my ears, I resisted the urge to write a tell-all book about the ex, “the rest of the story” as Paul Harvey would say, that  would show the world he is less than the stellar, upstanding member of the community that is portrayed in her novel.  Instead, I called the Cowboy and talked to him.  Then I took a deep breath and digested it all.  I have never said an unkind word about her, and I never will.  I don’t know her well, but what I have come to know is a nice person, with a beautiful smile that goes all the way to her eyes.  I’ve tried to do the right thing in any situation where we both were present, even went well beyond that on one occasion and I’d do it again even now.  She only knows the negative and fringe, she doesn’t know ME.  She doesn’t know the me that loved my husband with every fiber of my being, that prayed for him, that was there when he was broken and ugly, that remained faithful and loyal and never spoke an unkind word about him to anyone until we divorced.  The me that still loves him very much and always will.  The me my ex loved and married, had children with, and had a marriage that he said was 90% good.  The me that wanted more than anything to be a stay at home mom, but instead missed my kids growing up years because I had to work to provide for my family when my husband could not.  The me that never gave up on him, but was tossed aside like yesterday’s newspaper by him.  He was my hero.  Once the raw pain subsided, I could be happy for him, and I am, as he seems to have found his soul mate.

I’m so thankful that I didn’t react like I initially felt, but instead dropped the dagger, sat on my pretty little fingers and waited, prayed, cried and waited some more.  The more I did this, the more I decided I rather like “Zelda”, she is someone colorful and wacky, a little looney and far from boring.  In fact, I’m even going to pimp the book:

It is an ebook, available for 99 cents on your Kindle. Click the picture to purchase.

This morning I decided to look up name meanings, and see just what Zelda means.  I like it, and in fact, embrace it, especially after sharing it with someone else who said it fits me rather well.

Your First Name of: Zelda (from the website: http://www.kabalarians.com/cfm/name-meanings.cfm)

  • Your first name of Zelda has given you a responsible, expressive, inspirational, and friendly personality.
  • Expression comes naturally to you and you are rarely at a loss for words; in fact, you have to put forth effort at times to curb an over-active tongue.
  • Self-confidence has made it easy for you to meet people and you are well-liked for your spontaneous, happy ways.
  • You sincerely like people and do not often experience loneliness; your work and home-life are likely filled with association You enjoy music and could have a fine singing voice; however, the study could be somewhat difficult because you do not find it easy to apply yourself to concentrated study for long periods.
  • In this respect, this name is not altogether constructive; it creates a somewhat scattering influence which makes it difficult for you to finish what you start.
  • This name brings disappointments and emotional involvements through being too sympathetic and easily influenced.
  • As a result of your active nature, you have an appetite for quick-energy foods, which you could consume to excess.
  • Health weakness appear as skin conditions, or as ailments relative to the liver.

He Is Here!!!!

Posted on by

6

It is currently 1:12am on 12/27/12.  I am sitting here sipping a glass of wine, unwinding from such an amazing night!

I arrived at the hospital at just after 3pm on 12/26/12 and went right up to the labor and delivery floor in search of my son and his wife.  They were there to give birth to their son.  I was blessed that despite a winter storm blowing outside complete with snow and freezing rain, Cowboy took me up there in a 4-wheel drive truck so that I could be there to hold my grandson shortly after his birth.  I had hesitated for a while, knowing how hard it is to have others there when in labor and after, but I just couldn’t stay away.

At 10:32pm, weighing in at 7 pounds, 6 ounces, and 20 inches long, Collin Patrick arrived into this world.  Shortly after his birth, the nurse came and summoned Ryann, the big sister, to come meet her brother.  They spent some time, just daddy, mommy, Ryann and Collin, before we all were ushered in to meet the newest addition to our families.

He is a beautiful baby!!!!

OMG I am just a mushy hot mess at the moment.  All tears of joy and excitement.  Melissa’s mom held him then handed him off to me.  Guess everyone knew that the grandmas had first dibs.  I was sorry my ex and his wife were not there so that grandma Judy could hold him too.

This is the best gift ever of Christmas, this wonderful little boy!

As a typical grandma, I’m sharing the photos.  :)

Collin Patrick at around 1 hour old.

Collin Patrick at around 1 hour old.

711539_396563797095817_1809855876_n

Ryann and her new little brother, Collin

301707_396585013760362_137767550_n

Me and my grandchildren

Dust Bunnies From Under The Couch

Posted on by

2

Last week while mom was in the hospital, my sister and I cleaned the house.  Oh I mean we REALLY cleaned the house.  As in moved the furniture and vacuumed, dusted, purged (read: threw out all the crap).  If you know anything of my sister-in-law from over at Martinis Needed, you know that her sweet, OCD self must have everything “Mr. Spiffy” clean.  For those not familiar with Mr. Spiffy, I recommend you watch the Backyardigan’s episode, “What’s Bugging You”.   We jokingly say it ain’t clean if it ain’t Angie clean.  Mr. Spiffy would likely fall short of her standards.  We were shooting for Angie Clean.  We came close!

It is always an adventure to move anything around here and look under it.  Assorted dust bunnies are a given, but with 3 cats also in residence, you will find secret stashes of their various stolen treasures.  One of the cats used to swipe coins from around the house and hide them under the rug in the kitchen.   That came to a halt when we discovered it a few too many times, and we’ve yet to locate her new hiding place.  Not sure if she was saving up for a bus trip to escape but she always had at least a few dollars in random change.  This time, we found not only cat treasures, but enough plastic food to stock a small, toddler grocery store.  Seems when I was in the childcare business here, the little people were shoving it under furniture.

Me and my granddaughter, Little Red, this past Monday.

Memories can be a lot like those dust bunnies, until you actually go looking for them or the couch of life is moved, you don’t know they are there.  My son, his wife, and my adorable granddaughter stopped over Monday for a visit.  HIJACKING: I absolutely LOVE being a grandma, best role in life EVER!!!  One reason being in order to be a grandparent you had to have been a parent, and I have the best kids.  *Return to Blog*  Somewhere the topic came up of our blood types and I mentioned I knew my son’s because it was on his crib card in the hospital.   He asked if I still had that so I went up and brought  down my memory box.  It is a wood box with a hinged lid that my brother, Yatz, made for me in high school.  I have special, “in case of fire” items in there.  I had to explain that means in case of fire in the house grab that box while exiting.  I have in there the outfits my kids came home from the hospital wearing, their crib cards, their bracelets, and countless other items.  My granddaughter had a lot of laughs looking at old photos of not only her daddy, but her uncles, aunt and grandma too.  It was a lot of fun going through that box again, and if your past photos popped up on Facebook, blame my son. :)

The winds of time blew the Long Beach dust bunny out from under the couch of life.  I know, very interesting timing.  Right in the middle of writing my post the other day about the Biker and I going our separate ways, I  received a text from him.   I didn’t even have his phone number anymore, was clueless at first who was messaging me.  Last time I had heard from him he was vowing to change my mind about all men being pigs, contrary to what the ex-husband told me, and I was dumping live piranhas in the mote and pulling up the drawbridge to this princess’s castle!  He had NOT changed my mind, by the way.   He tells me he is coming this way in a few weeks or so, to take me to dinner.  I will believe this when the food and the drink land in front of me on the table while I’m listening to him tell me about himself in his delightful, Irish accent.  If by some miracle this actually happens, I assure you there  will be a photo to prove it. (don’t hold your breath, dear readers, I’m certainly not!)

Another dust bunny was found beneath the couch of life today.  A former neighbor growing up (we’re talking when I was very young), found and commented on a blog post of mine. Pat is his name.  He used to live next  door and after hearing about the health of another former neighbor, dear sweet Annie, decided to look up our family and track us down to say hello.   A few shared remembrances there, very pleasant ride down memory lane again.

And here I thought I’d have nothing to write about today!

If I Had A Gun That Shot Sh*t….

Posted on by

2

Growing up I have fond memories of going to my grandparent’s house on my dad’s side.  We have about a million cousins,  or at least it seems so.  Dad was one of 10 kids, all but one of whom had married and had children of their own.   There is quite an age spread between the 10, resulting in us having second cousins in the mix before too long.  Sundays seemed to be the day we’d see everyone there, with a ton of food if it was near meal time.  Grandma had  this pot that she made  popcorn in, on the stove top, that was ancient, covered with black stuff on the bottom (seems it was key to the perfect pot of unburned, fresh popped corn).  In the pantry on the shelf was a heavy, ceramic teapot full of Smarties candy.  And she made mint iced tea all year  round from mint that grew along side of the garage, by drying in on long tables covered in newspaper in the basement.  Some cousins started their own mint patch with transplants from there.  Grandma and grandpa are long gone but those mint beds are still around and that reminds me I need to get a starter from one of them.

Not the best photo but you can still see the big, cement flower boxes on the porch! And the driveway under the dinning room windows.

Anyway, grandpa and the aunts and uncles would be sitting around the massive dinning room table while sharing stories.  Mostly grandpa did the sharing, using curse words now and then and grandma yelling “now daddy” from the kitchen because of all the young ears in the house.  We always knew it was going to be a good story when he used bad words.  Old, black oscillating fans moving the air in the room (no A/C in the house)  while we kids were playing under the table (I’m not kidding,  this thing was solid, huge and you were pretty safe under there) or on the living room floor and porch, with toys from the toy bins from under grandma’s bed.  We were packed in there like sardines, but no  one seemed to notice or mind.  Beer came in bottles then, and there was always cold beer being drank along with the iced tea.  Outside under the windows was the driveway with old tricycles rolling by with cousins riding those, by standing on the back platform that ran between the 2 back wheels, bent over holding the handlebars.  No, we did not have bike  helmets back then.  The gentle creek of the front porch swing, glider, and the smell of flowers in the huge, cement flower boxes sitting atop the brick rails….ah the memories.

One of the things I distinctly remember, aside from his voice which I can still hear in my head as clear as day, was grandpa making reference to,  ”if I had a gun that shot sh*t mounted  on the machine…”.  The car was referred to as the machine.  The gun was always to have been aimed at some well deserving soul.  There were plenty of those.  That part of life has not changed at all.  In fact if anything, there are countless more fools  in the world on the roads and other places that are just begging to receive a nice, warm, soft, smelly round of poop launched on to them from said mounted device.

This morning the recipients would be the roofing crew a few doors down.  At 7am I woke to the sound of large packages of shingles being dropped hard on the roof top of the house  they are working on.  It is Saturday for crying out loud!  And one of the few summer nights that windows could be left open to sleep!  SERIOUSLY WTF????  I get it on week days as most folks are up and headed to work.  But is is SATURDAY! People sleep in on Saturdays.  Unless you live here, where rude roofing crews are starting the day.

Once I determined the  source of the rude awakening I was laying in bed thinking of that picture on Facebook that floats around about people who would be dead if it weren’t for prison.  I daydreamed about taking target practice with the 9mm, but if my skills  at shooting targets look anything like my abilities at dart throwing, a lot of innocent folks and pets in the houses on either side would be in danger.  That was when I remembered grandpa’s poop shooting bazooka!  YEAH that would  do it!  Pull up in front of the house with my car that is branded with my Avon business and business number in large font across the back window, aiming that big gun at one roofer after the next, firing large loads of nasty, gooey cow manure,  hitting each and every one!  Neighbors calling me (thanks to the number on the car) thanking me profusely for eliminating the annoying, rude,  early rising workers, and ordering large amounts of  Avon  products in appreciation for my efforts.

Ah one can dream.

Thanks, grandpa, for the visuals this morning that made me laugh out  loud.  RIP old man.

I’m Channeling My Inner Creamsicle

Posted on by

10

Yes…my hair is now a lovely, pastel orange.  I look like a Creamsicle.  That or I’m a bit premature in my excitement for Bengals pre-season football to begin.  Never  one to take myself too seriously, and therefore I don’t expect anyone else to take me seriously all of the time,  I thought I’d share.

Thankfully my stylist is going to fix this later today.

Here is a Vlog so you can experience the full visual effect too.

Rambling & OMG Grandma’s Face Is Melting!!!

Posted on by

0

Okay so it isn’t melting, but this heat wave is making for a sweaty, not quite as Marvelous one, a total waste of makeup!  I’m thinking I will be skipping the makeup routine more often than not, it’s only going to end up running off of my face anyway.

I haven’t taken time to sit down and write lately, had a lot on my mind but wasn’t ready to really put it all in writing.  And I’ve been rather busy to say the least.  But I need my therapy session of spilling the inside jumble of ever changing thoughts out on to the computer screen.  I’m armed here with a glass of red wine and some microwave popcorn, it’s time to start purging the brain onto my blog page.  Reader beware, this could go all kinds of sideways before I’m finished.

First order of business is that today my son, his wife, and little girl found out the newest addition to their family (due in late December) is a little boy!!!  I am more than excited to be gaining my second grandchild. I’ve found that of all the roles I’ve played on the stage of life so far, being a grandma is one of the very best!  And I’m still very young for the job, at only 49!  I have therapy with my crochet hooks coming up as I make a bunch of fun stuff like blankets, hats and booties for this little boy, not to mention the tons of stuff I am going to be buying.  But not just for him! I know how hard being the older sibling can be when the baby is getting all the goodies, so Little Red, my adorable granddaughter, will be getting some fun stuff from me too.

Lately I’ve been in a mode of letting bygones be just that, bygones.  Water under the bridge.  I’ve forgiven those that needed it, and those that didn’t.  It may be seen to some as ‘poking the bear/bitch’ but I have even hit the old friend request on about a dozen past Facebook friends and life/lifestyle friends as Facebook has thrown them into my “people you may know” feed.  Who knows, maybe they too are ready to let it all go and move the heck on.  If not, their loss.  Life is just too damn short to worry about it all anymore.  I have my life, it is fun, wild and crazy, mellow and easy going, full of laughter and good times.  Happiness is a choice I make, joy is something I’ve found in the simple things.  Some will tell me I’ve lost it, or have a few screws loose.  Hell not a single screw is loose, but many are bent and twisted!  :)   So be it.  The bible say that as much as possible be at peace with all, and that is my goal.

I’ve had my share of throttle therapy lately, and frankly cannot get enough.  More to come, way more to come!

Just the other day I had a total light bulb moment.  Or a “squirrel!” event.  Depends how you look at it I suppose.  I had read another person’s blog about their NOT doing so hot in a direct selling business, and replied telling them maybe it was because they failed to treat it as a job, and instead dabbled at it like a hobby.  ”BING!” on went the light bulb in my brain.  I’m working my business, and not doing too shabby, but wondering why I’m not up there higher just yet, and it dawned on me: I’m NOT working it like I did my jobs in the past.  If I were to have put the effort into past employment that I am now with Avon, I wouldn’t have had a job for long.  SO…obviously I need to get a more focused approach.  I’m also starting a second job with another direct selling company, but more on that later.

Okay who out there has had Bunco parties/clubs?  Just found out tonight that I’m going to be in one.  I have NO clue what it is all about but sounds like a great reason for a girls night out once a month so I said I was in!

I ALMOST went back to blond locks recently, but the hair color I was using wasn’t meant for removing the red.  SO I dyed it deep red again.  Heck I have about 700 of 1000 business cards left with my red hair photo, so I am figuring it would be good to remain a firey little red head for a while longer.  Besides I DO like this color and it always gets a conversation started wherever I go!

The past few weeks I have been on the quiet side when it comes to posting.  I’ve been reflecting on things I was told about not sharing so much about others.  Or myself if it involves others.  I’m evaluating that one, because…well it’s a respect thing and um…never gave it a lot of thought.

I had plenty to say on the whole gay marriage (I support it) and Chick-Fil-A (support them too) events, on Facebook, but I’ve chosen to leave it out of my posts.  Face it, no one is changing anyone’s mind on the subject.  The President only, IMHO, changed HIS mind because it is an election year and he is vying for votes so going with the vocal minority.  Nothing I say is going to change anyone’s thoughts so I’ll leave it at that, I support gay marriage and I went to Chick-Fil-A on the 1st because I am a support of free speech too.  Besides, their food is good.

This whole typing thing with a band-aid on one finger is a pain in the rump.  Cut the finger on the foil on a wine bottle earlier tonight.  Better outlaw those things, they are dangerous!!!!  I might have bled out and died in the kitchen if it were not for the paper towels and the band-aid that only took 10 minutes to locate!  Beware of the foil covering the corks on your wine bottles.

Did you know that if the blades of your fan are dirty, it is not putting out like it should?  I knew this but hadn’t taken a good look at the fans lately. OMG! I am shocked nothing in there grabbed and ate one of the cats, it was disgusting!  I took my box fan apart, cleaned the blades and every other area that could be reached with q-tips and now it is like hurricane force winds when set on high.  Who knew?  I cleaned another one and my little baby fan in my room too.  My sister was all mock-like impressed, teasing me about having a fever because I actually used a tool (a screw driver) today.  Yeah, I’m cool like that.  I couldn’t mess this up, the cats were supervising me!

Okay so this is a totally random, lame post tonight, but at least I put something up for the first time in days.

I leave you with my cat’s very, “get your butt in bed and stop moving you are disturbing me” look.

Guidance From A Grasshopper

Posted on by

0

I  should probably clarify right up front that I have not actually spoken to a grasshopper, or for that matter had one speak to me.  But I did gain much inspiration from a moment with two such insects (I  think they are insects….bugs for lack of a scientific name) just last night.

Lately I have been spending a good deal of time learning from webinars and teleconference calls all about how to really succeed in my direct marketing attempts.  My ever adoring fiance would  tell you that I need precious little assistance in this area as he knew me years back when I was marketing in another time and place and was rather darned  successful  if I do say so myself.  His creativity and boldness  is rather inspiring but I’ll get to that some other post.  I’m hijacking my own blog again because as usual,  my inner Diva (she is one  seriously ADD little  snit) is going in 18 directions at the moment.  Anyway I’m sucking up knowledge and inspiration faster than my front lawn would do with water at the moment. It is so dry (everyone’s is around here) that I’m certain tossing a lit match in the grass  could  easily burn down the entire west side of the township.

The problem with knowledge and inspiration is that it is worthless if not put into action.  I can sit here all day and dream of laundry  that is clean and smells of fresh air and spring time, thanks to the fabric softener, but until I  haul myself to the laundry room and actually engage the washer and dryer, my socks are still dirty and smell foul.  Same goes for my success in Avon.  I can make a dozen dream boards of photos of all the things I desire to have when I am successfully crowned Senior Executive  Unit Leader but until I actually make  use of what I have learned and put it in action, the title of SEUL shall remain ever elusive.

Last night I once again was given a lesson from my cat.  Actually it came from all three of the felines that shed themselves all over our home grace the Diva Den with their purring presence.  The two grasshoppers mentioned earlier managed to gain entrance into the house at dusk.  We became aware of the first one when the house queen cat, Noel,  our big,  grey tabby, was stalking the poor thing.  It didn’t  take long before my cat, Pixel, was also stalking the wretched little hopper.  They chased it about the house eyeing it and then as they sat there studying it on a  curtain in the living room, Ditzy came dashing in,  took a long, high jump and snagged the grasshopper and made off  with it, legs wiggling from her mouth.  Seems that they are quite the tasty little things because she refused to share her trophy.  This  did not sit too well  with the other 4 legged furry ones but that’s what happens when they take too long to plan.  Later, when the second pest got  into the  house,  once again there are Noel and Pixel, with the big, juicy opportunity on the closet door, studying it intently, and in comes Ditzy.  She jumps over them,  halfway up the closet door (which is a big risk for  her  as she is the only cat we know that doesn’t always land on her feet) and once again she snags the prize through ACTION.  The other two sat looking dumbly at each other then at her as she once again dinned on the prize.

My district manager, an absolute power house of ADD energy jacked up on steroids (at least we think she is), posted on her inspirational Facebook page the following picture.  The cats provided the visual aid that drove home the lesson.  Plan and plan but if you don’t act, you have nothing, and someone else will swoop in and claim the prize.  On that note I’m off to work my business, putting into action some of that precious wisdom I’ve been soaking up!

Lessons From My Cat

Posted on by

1

I’ve  learned many things from my cat over the 2 years I’ve had her, which is all but about 4 weeks of her life.  At the moment she is working on spending one of her 9 lives and cutting her existence a bit short but cats are like that some days.

See, cats suffer from OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder).   Well maybe it is more of just an obsession issue.  Once they get something in their furry little heads it takes over their life in every manner.   They eat, breath, sleep and function for one purpose – the object of their obsession.  They don’t stop until they have what they seek.

Recently I started using a new  pill holder.  You know the kind, you can put all of your medication in it for a week,  divided into cute little compartments, one for each week day.  It isn’t so much that I take a lot of medications or vitamins, only 3 pills per day,  it is the only sure proof way to ensure I actually take them each day….once.   Otherwise I go through the day and cannot recall if I took them.  No sense over dosing or under dosing, just use this little invention and problem solved.  I take my Lexapro, allergy meds and a probiotic.  I’ve just recently began the probiotic as a means of keeping my Ulcerative Colitis in remission (so far so good).

I don’t know if it is the new container or the probiotic that the cat is so fascinated with now.  I’ve used containers before but the last one went off the back of the bike on a highway south of Louisville some months back with my backpack.  Pixel never had any interest in it beyond checking it out then walked away.  By the way, nothing new that enters my room is missed, she notices and checks out every little item before it is given a pass to stay put.  EVERYTHING.  Either this new container is the issue, or it is the probiotic inside.  Whatever it is, the darn thing is like catnip to her.  I’m leaning toward the probiotic as the container sat on the vanity for days without her caring one bit.  Now that the other pill is inside she suddenly won’t leave it alone.  She treats it like the catnip pillows we have, rubbing her chin on it, trying to pick it up and take it away.  She just found it this morning,  of course while I was  asleep.  I tossed her off my vanity twice before I put it in the drawer and went back to sleep.  She has spent the past hour trying to get the drawer open.

After I tossed her from the room and shut the door, I got back in bed and thought to myself, “if I treat my business with that same level of obsession I will be a Senior Executive Unit Leader in a year!”.  DING DING DING!!!! WE HAVE A WINNER!  Okay no bells went off but you get the idea.  I have been reading Napoleon Hill’s Think and Grow Rich, and Pixel just provided me with a visual aid for burning desire to have something.  As soon as I opened the door of the bedroom she appeared from down stairs and was right back to trying to open that drawer!  She simply will NOT give up, it is her burning desire, her obsession, to possess that container and/or it’s contents.  She has a get-it-or-die-trying level of commitment.

I’m rather certain I can say that no one has died as a result of building their direct selling business to the level of success that they are financially free from debt and making $8,000 a month.  Or more.  Yes I know, seems insane but those that make it that far in Avon share their tax returns at events to show us that they are getting bonus checks of $8,000-$14,000….every 2 weeks.  I want that SO bad.  And I know how to get it, I know the ins and outs of working this business to that kind of success.  I just have to keep DOING it.  Eat, breath, sleep my business.  Make it an obsession.

Thanks, Pixel, my beloved fur ball, for the incredible, though most incredibly annoying, visual aid this morning.

I Can See All Obstacles In My Way….

Posted on by

6

I love that song, “I Can See Clearly Now”.  Great, upbeat song and the words are only TOO true to me.  In fact as I’m writing this post that song is playing in the background.

I CAN see clearly now.  It has been a long time coming to this point in my life.  The past nearly 3 years were difficult to say the least.  Healing from the marriage to a man I truly believed would never leave me, the one I placed center in my world and forgave no matter what he did that hurt me sometimes to the center of my soul.  The breakup nearly destroyed me and left me empty as my kids were still there with him, though adults, and I was forced to leave it all behind.  My home that I loved, my children, even the goofy little Yorkie that had been my shadow for 2 years of unemployment (my daughter’s dog but I adore her).    I hit a pit of depression like nothing I had ever experienced.  But I refused to let it claim me, I kept my head out of the dark, focused  everything in me on the positives in my life and found happiness in small triumphs.

My heart, still with unhealed wounds, was broken 3 more times after the marriage.  In each man that I let my guard down and placed my trust, I knew incredible pain as the tender scars were torn open again.  I also found myself unemployed 2 more times, one due to seasonal layoffs and one the company went belly up.

It was during that time of heart break and job struggles that I started to form a plan for my life.

  1. I opted to do in home childcare to make money.  I always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and never was given that opportunity so this was close enough that it gave me some joy and income.
  2. I began working as an independent Avon representative,  with a dream of really being successful.  It was not the best time in my life to be doing this as I really was not ready so while I made President’s Recognition Club, I didn’t achieve what I had ‘hoped’.  That is the key word and I’ll come back to that.
  3. I started to inventory my life, looking at what kept me awake staring at the ceiling at night, what ate at my heart and soul, what brought pain and sorrow to my life rather than positive things.  The things that needed to go, I began a virtual process of boxing up and shelving to leave behind in the previous year,  2011.
  4. I started to figure out just what it was I wanted in life, really think through where I want to be in a year, 5 years, 10 years.  Before I could start the plan to get there, I needed to determine where “there” actually was, decide what I wanted.

It wasn’t an easy process to work through.  Much of the time I couldn’t get a real direction, and my self confidence being at an all time low was not doing much to fuel process.  2.5  years of rejection in both employment and relationships,  inability to get bills paid and dodging creditors, well it wears a person down to where they start to feel pretty damn worthless.

The final straws that broke this camel’s back revolved around 1/2 of my pride and joy, by baby boy (my daughter is the other half).  My son had been through his own trauma in life with a brief marriage that destroyed his heart, soul and finances.  But now he was in love with a beautiful woman, one he had known since he was 8 years old, grew up with in church and youth group.  He wanted to marry her and become dad to her little girl.  It was one of those rays of hope in the dark clouds that helped me believe there IS happiness out there.

Straw number one came when my son was struggling financially to get the funds together to buy his bride-to-be her engagement ring.  He was designing it and money was an object.  I had 2 rings, a 1 carat ruby with diamonds surrounding it, and a 1 carat emerald also with diamonds surrounding it, that the ex-husband had given me on 2 wedding anniversaries.  I also still had my wedding and engagement rings.  I had saved them so that I could sell them if I really got desperate for money (and I was on the verge of selling),  but this seemed so much more precious to me.  To be able to help my son do this for his fiance meant everything to me.  He had a good chunk of the money he needed but was still pretty short.  So I gave him the rings to trade in toward the engagement ring.  Keep in mind he lived with the ex-husband at the time.  My son had a beautiful heart shaped silver ornament made and engraved with “will you marry me”, and attached the engagement ring to the ribbon that would be used to hang it on a Christmas tree.  With the ex, and the ex’s girlfriend, and my daughter present while opening gifts, he decided to give it to his bride and officially ask her to marry him.  Happiness and joy all around….but mom was not included in this.  It never so much as crossed his mind to have the person that helped him when I really could have used the money myself, be there to share in the joy.  To say it felt like my heart was cut from my chest and stomped in dirt would be a gross understatement.  I was crushed.

Straw number two came a bit later.  When my son told me they were planning the wedding for St. Patrick’s day, I told him I would financially assist with the rehearsal dinner.  Despite the pain over the ring, I  adore my son and wanted to be able to help make it special.  I got left out of so much of his life and his sister’s because they were living with the ex and his girlfriend, and it was such a lonely, isolating feeling, that I at least hoped to be a part of the wedding festivities.  There was a time after my first divorce when it was me and my little boy against the world.  I was a single mom struggling to get by and I had often went without things I needed to see to it his needs were met.  This in my mind would be no different.  I let some bills go unpaid and found ways to get the money together to put toward the dinner.  The ex called to let me know what I needed to put toward it, and told me the bride had picked a location etc.  Okay, no problem, she was the bride and it was her right to decide on these things.  I kept waiting to hear more information, be consulted, something at least, but when I never heard anything more I assumed it was being handled by my son and his fiance.  I received an invitation in the mail to the event with the details.  Once at the dinner, as I was near a table, one of the staff at the location came looking for….the mom of the groom? No, the ex-husband’s girlfriend.  Seems she was the one who had coordinated the whole event with my ex.  Beyond my financial donation my services were apparently not needed.   Hey, I’m only the mother of the groom, and the ex isn’t even his biological father, but why should that be an issue.  I  only let things in my own finances fall apart to see to it I put up money toward this event.  I spent the rest of the evening emotionally shattered yet again.  This time the knife was so deep in my heart that when I pulled the handle to remove it, the blade broke off and it’s still buried in there.  The rest of that weekend I plastered a beautiful smile on my face to hide the pain and went to have myself a good time.

After the past 3 years and now those two straws, I realized that I was done.  I sat down after the wedding and made some decisions.  My kids are both adults, 22 and soon to be 28 years old.  They have the ex-husband and now his girlfriend, who they spend a good deal of time with if the happy times and party photos on Facebook are any indications.  They don’t seem to need mom anymore.  I decided that this is now MY LIFE.   I’m finished worrying about how what I do or say might impact my kids.  I am done with giving a damn what ANYONE thinks of me.  I am going to start building a life for myself that is all about me and only me.  This being the year of no dating, I’d be free to do my thing, my way.

Step one was employment.  I knew the only way I can build my Avon business to be like that of the top sellers and leadership representatives, my ‘hope’ I mentioned, is to do it full time and treat it like it’s my job.  I am great at marketing and I love the product and business model.  I decided as soon as school was out I’d roll this full time through the summer when my days were free.  A year from now I WILL be completely, financially independent and have the money to do what I want, when I want to do it.  Next week I bust out full time in this, and I will succeed, just watch me!

Step two…marrying the biker.  I  know I know, it was the year of no dating!  Who knew that when I stopped looking, he’d find me.  A man that adores me, doesn’t want to change me, encourages me to be myself, create my own flair, explore new hair colors if I want, get more ink, pursue my dream in Avon and not just cheer me on but find ways to help and support me in that pursuit.  My Biker is dead honest, has a personal code of integrity he follows not matter the cost, and his heart is gold.  Because he is a member of a 1%er  motorcycle club, that law enforcement classifies as a gang (which by definition of a gang, every police, fire department and scout troop is also a gang), my son has severed all ties with me.  I was shocked when I received a text letting me know his wife is pregnant.   He didn’t want me to learn it on Facebook.  Not a phone call, just a text.  I could break this relationship with the biker off,  repair my heart one more time and go forward, but I’m not doing that.  I have a man that is my match, loves me and I love him, and come hell or high water, or whatever else life can throw at us, we’re going to be together.  It’s my happiness I am pursuing, it’s really all about me now and me wants my Wolfman!

It is my life, I am choosing to live it to the fullest, on MY terms, MY way.  I’ve  cleared the clouds, I know the obstacles in the road to my success.  I KNOW I can make it now, leaving the pain behind and pushing ahead.  And from now on I take care of those that take care of me, have my back, support me even when they don’t agree with me, and love me.

Soggy Doggies & Other Oddities

Posted on by

1

My sister and I were invited to attend a leadership trip to Avon’s Zanesville, Ohio, distribution plant today.  We had to leave home at 4:45am, so right about now (6:16pm) I am ready to pass out from exhaustion.  This was a total and complete honor for us, and OMG was this amazing!

As is usually the case with the two of us, we had entirely too much fun on the ride up there.

We stopped at a McDonald’s to grab more coffee and use the ladies room.  WOW, have things  changed since I had small children.  I closed the stall door to a spacious ‘potty’ spot, sat down and found myself looking at a chair mounted on the inside of the door, complete with straps.  Frankly that  kinda creeped me the heck out.   Oh don’t get me wrong, having had to use the bathroom with a small child in tow in my distant past, I get the need and the idea is really a good one as it keeps the little  crumb crunchers out of trouble in a germ infested area.  But my first, very sideways and wrong thought, was “oh, a midget bondage chair!”  Yes, I know, wrong and sick.  My Biker appreciated the sick humor when I shot him a picture of my view from the top of Mount  porcelain.

We got lost, sort of, thanks to mapquesting the directions.  We left the highway 2 exits too soon and the address turned out to be a high school.  But that is okay, because while driving through that area we found some rather interesting businesses.  One called the Splash And Dash car wash.  Next door to that is the Soggy Doggy pet groomer.  The topper was the strip bar in what appears to have been an old church.  Ice the cake with what appeared to be life size iron sheep, horses,  cowboys and some other barnyard critters on the one sidewalk, and well you have one very interesting little town.  We were in tears from laughing.

The rest of the day was, to us Avon reps, the beauty industry version of crack for druggies!  It is a fabulous distribution center, high tech, and totally amazing!  It makes me appreciate what I do for a living all the more.  It was a huge shot in my mojo.  Doesn’t hurt that all of us that went are a peppy group of ladies bursting with excitement for the brand, Avon.

See what one misses when they don’t run with a totally crazy person like myself?  :)

The 20th Anniversary Of My 29th Birthday – Happy Birthday Fred

Posted on by

4

Yes, today is the Marvelous one’s birthday.  In case like me, you struggle with math, the 20th anniversary of my 29th birthday…makes me 49 years old today.  Perhaps  I’m not wired  correctly, but this one is bugging me way more than the thought of turning 50 next year on this day.  I don’t know why but the knowledge that this is the last of the 40′s bothers me,  intensely.

If my calculations are correct, Fred would be 97 today.  Fred is my grandpa, the single greatest man to ever walk this planet in my lifetime, and that is my most unhumble opinion of the man.  He was the most generous, kind, positive, wise, beautiful person ever.  I was his first grandchild,  born on his birthday.  I miss him SO much sometimes that I will still tear up.  I can still remember his voice and hear it in my head  as clear as if it were yesterday.  We  always talked on our birthday,  and my first dozen roses came from him, on my first birthday.  He taught me what I now  refer to as the Thumper Rule  (from Bambi), “If you don’t have something nice to say, it isn’t necessary to say anything at all.”  Thumper the rabbit says something similar in the movie Bambi, it is awesome advice.  Fred lived it, I never heard him say anything that was unkind about anyone regardless of who they were, he  always tried to find the good or remained silent.  I sought his advice a few times in my life, and now I would give so much to be able to still ask “what would Fred do” to him.  Instead, when life overwhelms me, I sometimes go find him in the cemetery and lay next to his head stone and talk to him.  I don’t know if beyond this world he can hear me, but I feel better.  I just so often wish I could hear him.  He always called me by my first and middle name, and is the only person I will ever allow to do that.  It’s how I honor his memory.

I was reflecting on the past year last  night as I drifted to sleep, thinking about where I have been, and where I am headed.  I think it is a good time to do this, and a good idea just to be sure I have myself grounded and have a direction to go.  Here are some of those things that I pondered in the night:

I got my heart broken a few times…first by Mr. Wonderful (would have been nice to know before I fell for him that he was married),  then the Superhero (though not at all his fault, timing was just all wrong), and skirted a lifetime of hell with the Count (I dodged a serious bullet on that one, major self centered control freak – I was totally settling when it came to that one).  I vowed to spend this year single, no dating just enjoying life as a single chick.

Fate and destiny had other plans, and they brought the Biker across my  path for the 4th time in as many years.  This time he didn’t mess around with the “come to work for me” angle.  Instead, he  came over the wall of the garden that is my heart and tore down the walls with a sledge hammer.  Thanks to the Count for being a  complete asshole, I would have missed the opportunity to be cherished, adored and loved.  :)

I lost 3 of the kids I enjoyed watching, but gained 2 more part timers.  I half heartedly worked my Avon business, making it to President’s Recognition Club, but not making the kind of money I wanted.  I have since started working on a business plan, so that when school is out I will be done babysitting and can devote myself to working my business with the intent of making it my living and livelihood.  And I’m working on the future husband’s business, as his office/business manager for both that he is working now.  Yes that means no more babysitting for the Marvelous one, I will be entirely too busy.  I also want the freedom to drop everything when he comes in and says “pack the saddle bags, Beautiful, it’s time for some throttle therapy.”

The  most important thing that I learned over the past year was to be true to myself.  No more allowing anyone to tell me who or what I can be, what I can and cannot do,  no more caging the Marvelous one and clipping her wings.  I will never again exchange parts of me to please someone else.  I’m way too strong a personality, and way too much woman for most men to handle.  And I’m okay with that.  I  knew I’d find a man strong enough in character and personality to pair with, and I have in the Biker.

I know that  none of this is news to many of you, just wanted to get my thoughts down. :)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRED!!!

Feathers & Sushi

Posted on by

2

I received a text this morning from my baby girl, asking what I was doing.  Next thing I knew she was at my door, kidnapping me for the day.  Her end goal was sushi  for dinner, for  Mother’s Day.  But first she wanted to wander Kenwood Town Center, a local mall for those with money to burn on expensive crap they don’t need.  Well, okay, there are things there folks probably need, but I honestly believe if I walked in to Nordstrom’s alarms would sound and a voice would say over the intercom “this woman cannot afford to LOOK upon our selection, let alone purchase anything.  Please escort her out of the store at once.”  We didn’t even wander in there.

We DID browse other places and I found a few things  that I simply MUST own.  One, is a an Austrian Crystal chandelier, at the Disney Store of all places.  It isn’t for sale, it is part of their store display.  The floor is a beautiful, midnight blue tile with sparkles in it like diamonds.   I am so all over that except I want a “pink brick road” with diamond sparkles.  After all I AM a princess!  The chandelier had lights shining on it, making it appear PINK! OH HELL YES!!!!  I plan to have an office in my home, from which to run my Avon business as well as my future husband’s business.  I MUST  have this hanging in my office, or something similar, but with REAL pink crystals.  Okay not real crystal, that is an insane, over priced non-necessity.  Just pink do-dads will be fine, they can be plastic or glass, as long as the darn thing is pink!

Upon wandering to the back of the Disney store, we spotted a pea pod, and when we opened it, we found it contains 3, adorable little peas!!!! Again, I must have this.   I do not know WHY I feel I need it, I just do.  And I will go back and buy it one day to put in my office on a shelf, or my desk, because it makes me smile like a little kid.  That alone is a good reason, right?

We strolled into the Godiva store for chocolate, because the daughter gets a free piece every month because she belongs to their chocolate club.  She purchased some chocolate covered strawberries while we were there, that are as big as a toddler’s fist.  Then we sat on a bench and ate those until I thought I was going to be sick to my stomach from the sugar rush of that and the cookie crumble  mocha whatever the hell it is from Starbucks that she felt we simply had to consume.  She had a gift card she had purchased for a former boyfriend turned-out-to-be asshole, so we used it.  :)  I had enough sugar in me to crawl up the wall and across the ceiling!  Frankly,  and I told her this,  Esther Price chocolates are way better than Godiva.  Just sayin.  The guys I used to work with, when I had to send them to Europe for work, would bring me back Godiva and other chocolates from over  seas.  I’ve sampled a variety from many countries.  You can keep them all, Esther Price has them all beat!  But hey, it was still pretty tasty!

We wandered into the Swarovski store and browsed dozens of adorable, high priced crystal objects.  And that is when I spotted the Hello Kitty items.  OMG!!!!! I love Hello Kitty!  I was even wearing my Avon, Hello Kitty watch today!  I know, right? AWESOME!!!!  These are way too damned cute and if I could justify spending $205 on each of them, not to mention the other items, I would, but 2.5 inches tall of crystal, for that price they better clean house and do laundry aside from being adorable.  I was stopped by a store clerk, and told I was not permitted to photograph the items.  Oh WHATEVER!  I was able to slip this shot in before we left. WAAHAAAHAAAA!  That necklace in the back of the photo? $270!!! Like I’d walk out of my house wearing a necklace that cost that much??? But it is fun to look, dream, and then move on.   Just not my style.  Too many cute,  AFFORDABLE Hello Kitty items to be had.

We also stopped by the Reggis salon and had a feather put in my hair.  I’ve always wanted one, another one of those things various men in my past frowned upon.  My daughter has one now, and that motivated me.  I know only too well that my Cowboy Wolfman will love it, because it makes me happy and that alone would cause him to encourage me to get one.  I love that man for letting me just be ME and loving me for who I am.

After we left the mall, we headed to Dancing Wasabi, a sushi place she loves.  The last time she introduced me to sushi was at a Thai place.  It was just okay.  This time? OMG STOP THE PRESSES!  It was to die for delicious.  Yes, I’m so sold and will again dine there with her, hopefully soon.

It was a very fun time, celebrating Mother’s Day, with my amazing baby girl.  We laughed a lot, dreamed a lot,  and shared some special moments.   I love making memories. :)

Have I Mentioned I HATE Camping?

Posted on by

0

You may recall that last October I went camping…for the first time in a few decades.  I grew up traveling this country by way of camp grounds.  I loved it, love the memories, but truly HATE to camp.  The Count convinced me to camp this past October, and it actually wasn’t bad!  However, I had no desire really to do it again, it would simply have been a family tradition of his so I would have gone along.  Thankfully he ditched me.

*Squirrel moment* (that means an ADD driven side thought) – BEST thing the ex-husband, Mr. Wonderful, and the Count did for me was toss me aside.  I’d have not known what it was like to be with The Biker otherwise.  I have landed such an awesome man now. One who has shown me what weak individuals the Count and all others before him.  He encourages me to be ME and loves my very strong personality.

This past weekend I once again found myself on the back of the bike, only this time in the cold and RAIN.  Yes, the Marvelous princess rode in the rain this time, well over 100 miles.  These guys are 1%ers, hardcore bikers, they ride in the rain.  And then…we camped. On the property of another chapter’s club house we pitched tents and campers, and I found out what hypothermia feels like.  It was flipping C-O-L-D despite the blankets etc. and I was sleeping alone until about 5am.  My legs were cramped from cold, especially when I suddenly had to pee.  I nearly gave up trying to pull my boots on to go outside.  When I came back it was no better.

The best part? I HAD A FREAKING BLAST!  Rain and cold, so what? I spent a good deal of time that night hanging in the club house with the other women, and I might have had a few shots.  Actually, okay, I DID, it was anti-freeze you could say, against the coming cold sleeping in a tent.  I got a tad out of control at one point, but my honey didn’t handle it the way old Lord Voldemort would have.  He pulled me aside, and quietly, lovingly, told me that I needed to dial it down a bit, it wasn’t acceptable in the current location.  I was mortified to think I had done anything that would reflect badly on him, darn near cried in fact.  But he was all gentleness and love, reassuring me I was fine, and that any other location I could be crazy like I had been.  Just not here and not now.  The near tears were about more than feeling I disappointed him (which he says not at all) it was also the gentleness of his voice and touch when talking to me.  I am not at all used to that.  He is not a small man, but a very gentle giant, and that much tenderness shown to me took me apart inside.  If you piss him off then heaven help you, but he isn’t easily angered by me at all. In fact he tends to laugh and find my fits entertaining.  Unlike the ex-hubby, I can flip off my Biker and he smiles.  He doesn’t find it insulting or disrespectful because he knows I’m being funny, he thinks I’m cute as hell when I do it, often replying to it with “who loves ya baby?”.

If it calls me ‘Beautiful’ once, he says it a few dozen times a day!

I am soaking it all up like a sponge as one very starved for true love and REAL affection.

Hopefully, we keep this camping  thing to a minimum.

I hate camping.

Moobs & Dryer Sheets

Posted on by

0

I heard a new word today:  Moobs

Moobs are man dinners, or man boobs.  I like that, very amused by the word.  Show me your moobies and I’ll throw ya some beads! :)

I was also attacked today by a dryer sheet.  Yes as in the fabric softener sheets you put in the dryer.  See, I do not wear underwear/panties.  I know I know,  OMG WTF TMI!!!!!  I hate them. I’ve spent a good portion of my life picking the darn things out of the crack of my rump, so as I have NO reason whatsoever to wear them (sorry grandma but I’m thinking if having clean drillies on when I’m in an accident is a thrill for some paramedic or ER staff member, then NO panties would be a bigger one), I don’t.

Today I am watching 5 kids because I missed my 3 little ones I used to babysit and as it is spring break at the 7yo’s school, I thought it would be fun.  I’m off my rails like that.  While moving around taking care of the 3 small ones (the 7yo’s are off doing their thing), I kept feeling like something was crawling around between my butt and my jeans.  Finally, while sorting laundry (yes I multitask), I slid my hand down between the waist in the rear and pulled out…..a dryer sheet.  Seriously.  I have NO idea if it slipped down from my sweat shirt, or if it was in the jeans when I pulled them on.  Thankfully it didn’t make it’s way down to be sticking out of the leg of my jeans when the tow truck was here to get my car (another story for another post) as that would have been super embarrassing.

I’m Grounded :(

Posted on by

5

My darling baby girl informed me last night that I’m grounded.

She sent me a text while I happened to be out with The Biker, because her mama forgot to take care of something for her this weekend.  I forgot a lot of little details thanks to smacking my head on the pavement.  *NO, dear Biker, it  was NOT the shots of tequila…though they may have contributed to my rather poor dismount  from the back of the bike which resulted in the close encounter with the blacktop.*  She was  not impressed that she  had been left out of the information loop and hadn’t been told of the small concussion over the weekend.  She informed me that I am grounded.  She is so cute and amusing.  I probably SHOULD be grounded as I’m running on fumes at the moment, not acting like I have a brain in  my head.

SO being grounded (yeah, right, and  try pinning down the wind), I guess today I will work on some posts. :)  I know you are excited!

Tarter Sauce On My Notes

Posted on by

5

The life of an Avon Lady is NEVER boring.  Well mine isn’t, but then I’m hardly ordinary so of course  it would be extraordinary for me.  Now pair me with my sister, and fellow Avon rep, and well  things will always be interesting.

Monday we cruised out with a car loaded down with Avon brochures, each inside a plastic bag, then rolled and rubber banded.  We toss them in driveways, just like the newspaper and the weekly store ads.  It has proven quite effective as we always gain a few new customers.  Generally we toss the same neighborhood 3 times then move to a new one.  Anyone who calls in an order is  considered a customer and we will then place the books on their doors.  This time I had a few boxes of left over brochures so we hit the neighborhood I grew up in.  We tossed them all and headed home.

We use this method to distribute the brochures because we toss roughly 700-1000 per campaign between the two of us, all within 2 hours or less.  To walk door to door and hang that  many would take a week.

Later that day I received a phone call from a gentleman that asked if this was the Marti that is the Avon lady.  While he would not give me his name, I know who he is because he provided his address.   He asked me to stop throwing my garbage  in his  driveway.  I calmly apologized for any  inconvenience and promised not to ever do this again, and would add him to our  ”do throw  list”.  He  seemed to want to push the complaint end with me a bit so I listened politely and again apologized.

Today as we were headed out to work this Wild and Wacky Wednesday recruit-a-thon, my district manager lets me know she heard from the  man too.  This  man first texts her and then calls her to inform her that the head of the neighborhood block watch there has me on video tape throwing my brochures in drive ways and that they have called the Better Business Bureau,  the City, the Police, and he might call the paper.  Oh and of course he called to complain to Avon and that is how he was able to get my district managers  number.  REALLY?????? ARE WE SERIOUS?   Oh. My. Gawd.  Pick up the damn thing and throw it  in the trash if you don’t want it! You asked me on the phone, I very politely and professionally agreed to never bother you again.  Next thing you know Crime Stoppers will be featuring the video tape of me throwing Avon brochures in the driveways of potential customers.  BAAAA HAAAA HAAAAAA! Well, we believe in “go for the no” and I would imagine that is about as “NO” as it gets.  In a world so full of pain and serious issues…war, cancer, child abuse, poverty…you seriously complain about one lousy brochure?  Amazingly small minded individual.  Maybe he would prefer I go on welfare and he  can support me?

This rattled my brain so much today that over lunch with my sister, while  waiting for our afternoon recruit appointments, I ended up laying my notes in my cole slaw, and then my tarter sauce from my  Big Boy sandwich. Unbelievable.

OH, on a positive note, that same area  where Mr. Self Appointed Crime Prevention lives…well I gained 2 new customers, and a new recruit to my team.  I did warn her NOT to leave her brochures at his home. He gets his boxers all knotted up over it.

Oh Yes I DID Check In There!

Posted on by

1

I’m a total,  social media  addict.  Well assuming it is a free app, I won’t pay to be virtually social.  I use:

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Yahoo IM

Foursquare

GetGlue

HeyTell

I know I know, I’m leaving myself wide open for some boogie man.  You know, if the boogie man is after me, he will find me anyway.  I have friends who are very private souls and cannot understand the need to inform the free world where I am every time I change locations.  It’s a game.  Real people, better than life-like action figures,  doing real things.  I’m the star of my favorite REALity show, it’s all part of who I am and living my life before the world as an open book.  Besides, I don’t tell all,  there IS a directors cut.  I’m the director and I have some secrets and things not shared.

It is a game in that me and my sister compete for mayorship of various places on Foursquare.  We’ve taken things to the extreme and check into bed at night.  Me in “My Big Comfy Bed”, her over in ‘The Sandman’s Headquarters”.  I stole mayorship of her bed one night just being funny.  She found that creepy.  She decided the rule is you must be IN the location, not standing near it, to check in.  My sister-in-law stole off with the mayorship of the local Walgreen’s. I created a location for my Avon office, my daycare and my room.  Hey it’s all about checking in!

Sunday evening my brother found it amusing that sis and I checked in to the deck out back.  He asked if we checked into the bathroom too.  This sparked 2 new locations, The Princess Palace Upper and Lower Throne Rooms.  Sis quickly layed down the law:  You cannot just step in and check in, you have to be using the facilities or doing your hair to check in there.  I am currently the proud mayor of the lower throne room.  I know I know, we’re ridiculous.

My Life Is One Big Slumper Party

Posted on by

2

MY life is one big slumber party.  I just realized that laying in bed this morning debating getting up.  I really have a great, FUN life!

For years, while married, I was just a tiny bit envious at times of my baby sister.  I had a great life, good marriage, fantastic husband, great kids, nice house with a pool and hot tub, nice cars etc.  We weren’t rich but we certainly were comfortably blessed.  I had a great job, good medical insurance, and my husband could fix just about anything that broke or needed tweaking.  There was a very sweet contentment in my life. Don’t get me wrong, it was not perfect by any stretch but I honestly had little I could complain about.  At the top of the hill, when all was ‘good’ or so I thought, my sister had one thing I did not have….mom.  She and her two girls were living with my mom.

I think I can safely speak for all of my siblings when I say we are close to my mom.  For myself, I talked to her just about every day if not on the phone, via text.  I was raised by a mom that had a father who taught the value of family.  My gramps was the best in my opinion.  He taught all of us growing up that no matter what we lost in life, if we had our family we had everything.  I would learn that lesson many times over starting in my teens.  Family doesn’t have to agree with you, in fact they’ll often be the first to tell you what an idiot you are, but they still stand behind you and love you through support.  Or they should.  If they don’t, I honestly think you might want to trade them in for a new one.  Too bad you cannot do that!

Long ago it used to be quite the norm as the kids came along, grandma and grandpa were close by, if not living with one of their children, taking care of the little ones.  Families farmed, or held jobs ‘in town’.  There were no daycare centers and moms worked at home.  And it was work!  Everything was done by hand in the old days.  Grandma and grandpa helped out and families were much closer geographically as a means of survival.  Kids KNEW they grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  Sure, many will make remarks now about “Oh, he is 53 and lives with his mother…” and I think, yeah? So???  Maybe it is necessary for both to have a comfortable life, or maybe he is a mama’s boy and a loser.  Whatever the story he is fortunate enough to still share life with his mom.  And that is how I viewed my sister.  She had a fantastic job, made great money, and she got to share life with my mom.  I know, it was not all coming up roses, the girls were teens and 4 females under one roof spells DRAMA anyway you slice it.

2 years ago I was spending every available moment over at my mom’s house with her, my sister and my nieces.  I was about a month into accepting that my husband wanted out off the marriage and the plan was for me to move out.  In hind sight there are a few things I would change about my divorce agreement…like since he was getting ALL the toys, the house, pool, hot tub etc, that he took ALL of the debt.  I had no way to see down the road that I’d end up laid off from another job and the other company would go under, and that finding work in this economy is damn near impossible.  My credit is shot to hell because I just cannot quite make ends meet at the moment, having lost 3 of the little ones I was babysitting because I don’t (and won’t) take vouchers.  It sucks.  But I’m hijacking my blog, back on topic.  The Divas had determined I was moving in with them, and the hunt had transpired for a house suited to all 5 of us.  Who knew the  second house we looked at was our dream house. It was one of those that, had I gotten bored and went a looked at houses while happily married, I would have wanted a reason to own it, it is such a cool house.  So, 2 years ago today we were all sitting around mom’s table on a Sunday afternoon just dreaming that all the pieces were going to fall into place and we’d get the house.  And we did!

Fast forward and welcome to our ongoing slumber party.

No one that heard what our plan was thought this had a chance of working out, but inside me somewhere I knew it would.  Maybe it was the one night 2 years ago when I left my mom’s to go home (I had to text them when I was in safely), and when I was crawling into my bed, the big one I had shared with hubby that I now slept in alone, I was sad and lonely until I received a text from my youngest niece.  It said, “Don’t lose your green card, we want you back!”.  It made me laugh and cry all at the same time.  I felt wanted at a time when I was feeling humiliated, rejected and worthless.

The past 2 years in this house (our 2 year anniversary of the official establishment of the Diva Den/Estrogen Central is 5/1/12)  has been FUN!  Really, most days we laugh a LOT.  Laughter is healing, trust me on this.  I noticed there is an over all JOY in this house.  My daughter loves coming over to visit because she laughs til her mascara is running down her cheeks.  Drama happens, but very, very rarely.  I’ve lost my temper, sure, 3 times.  Once with my sister, twice with my niece.  That tells me something when I know the number of times.  It may sound like a lot until you break it down, that in 630 days, give or take a few, I’ve lost my cool 3 times.   The two nieces are good for driving each other bonkers and some drama, but not often and usually not much at all.  Mostly, this house, this HOME, is filled with JOY.  We all love the house itself, it just is awesome.  And we all enjoy each other.

We stay up late some nights, like little girls at a sleep over, watching TV, talking and laughing.  We enjoy mornings on the weekends of extended coffee drinking with bed-head and jammies.  We support each other, hug each other, eat meals together, break into song and dance together, tease each other, and laugh together, a LOT.  We help each other, cry together over chick flick moments on TV, encourage or discourage each other as needed, and help each other out when money is tight.  A need was there that turned out to be the greatest of blessings.  When I was shattered emotionally and mentally at the end of the marriage, I was wrapped in the protective love of the women in my family.  I was able to heal with on site support.  We’re the true “girls next door” and we’re one big ole laughing, good time!

And the best part is that I get to live with my mom.  I’m not embarrassed to say it at all, I am about to turn 49 in 88 or so days, and I live with my mom.  And my sister and one of my nieces (one has since moved out on her own to be closer to school and work).  I get to tap into her wisdom, live, laugh and love with her, and enjoy moments that I’d have never had if my life and not taken the turn it did 2 years ago.  I’m not content, I AM HAPPY!

Here is a little treat, what happened in the middle of playing Farkle on Christmas night at the Diva Den. Featuring my sister, nieces, and my daughter.  It is pretty typical of the fun we have on a daily basis (mostly without the beer).  A song comes on and suddenly everyone has a spontaneous sing along. Though we don’t often need the song on the radio, we just kinda break into song because our life is like a very bizarre musical some days: