Monday, March 31, 2008

Haveil Havalim #160

Rafi did a great job, and I'm wondering just how quickly he'll get his waffles from Jameel.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Cranky

Cranky, grouchy, grumpy, kvetchy, or whatever you'd like to call it. That's the way I feel with only a couple hours of sleep, trying to fix the internet connection on my mom's computer (it looks like my abba had a party with it again or somehow managed to step on it) my BlackBerry service not working properly, and I miss him.

Yeah, yeah, I've never even met him. How can I miss him? BUT I DO! So don't mess with me on this one. Plus my mom's treadmill belt is slipping so I can't even run/walk this uchy feeling out of me!!!!

And NO! Having some coffee would not help. I don't drink coffee unless it's late at night, and I'm driving back to Oz. I don't like the taste of coffee, although I really do like the smell. My cup of coffee is a nice hot shower. It wakes me up in the morning, and if for some reason I don't get to have one try to stay out of my way until I do. Well, I'm not that bad.

It takes a lot to get me to this point of crankiness, but the sun is out, the darlin' boy is happy, I got a hug from him without even asking for it, and I'm in Kansas... so really what am I complaining about? It's just about out of my system already. And now I'm off to a nice hot shower, brunch with my da (dad), some bike riding and basketball, and picking up a new wireless router for my mom.



I'm feeling better already

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Friends

Friendships go through ups and downs. They come in or go out with the tide. True friendships survive and continue even if you are at opposite ends of the ocean. Sometimes you drift closer blown by storm winds and try to support or shield one another from pain and hurt. Other times you drift far away or even crash into one another through disagreements.

Happy Girl

How can you be angry at someone who knows you better than you know yourself? At someone you don't even want to be angry with? At someone who knows you just want to pick a fight and don't really want to hurt them?


I was upset when he called. He knew from the second he heard my voice that something was wrong, but he didn't push and ask me about it. I was trying hard not to be argumentative, but then he asked me if I wanted to fight. It appears that I can't hide things from him, not that I really want to or maybe I do.

Something he said made me smile and he knew it would. The next thing I knew there were tears in my eyes and he offered me his shoulder to cry on. That did it and I felt the wet drops trace a hot path down my cheeks. My voice didn't catch in my throat and I wasn't sniffling so there was no way for him to know I was crying. His soft words soothed and relaxed me as if he were holding me in his arms.

Usually when I'm that distressed the tears will go on for quite some time, but as he tells me he's "magic." Never have I felt better in such a short amount of time and with less tears. The next thing I know I'm giggling again.


OR


I'm not upset when he calls, and then he says just the words that he knows will bug me. It's done on purpose to get a rise out of me, and it works of course. He's got his fingers on what buttons to push.

Then he chuckles, and he is most definitely aware that this only infuriates me more. Two seconds later he tells me something that has me cracking up despite myself. This makes him laugh even harder knowing that I'm trying my best to stay irritated with him and that I'm losing the battle. My giggles inform him that he has won again.


Either way it's hard to stay angry at a man who makes me happy... a very happy girl.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Another Year

...has passed. I'm not the only one celebrating, and here's my favorite post by Jack for his second linkversary. And HAPPY HALF-BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Since I feel ten years younger than I am and tend to forget my own birthday on occasion, I'm finding it kind of amusing to read the couple more serious comments about Gretel's b-day.

I don't mind getting older. I don't really feel older except that I have more crazy stories to tell about my life, and I'm glad to be getting older. My mom named me after her mother who was nifter before she even reached 50, and birthdays in my family are most definitely celebrated for the life-affirming events they are.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Happy Birthday!

It's Gretel's b-day, and we even got a chance to talk! Things have been pretty busy for both of us so I was glad to wish her a Happy ______th Birthday.

You don't actually think that I would tell you how old Gret is?!?!?! C'mon, she's 6 months older than I am, and there's no way I'm going to let y'all know that I'm going to be _______. I tell you just about everything as it is.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Babies

I love to be around them, love holding them and when you lean down to kiss them smelling that oh-so-sweet fresh baby smell, a mixture of baby shampoo, baby powder and soft baby skin.

Obviously, I have spent some time with babies this past week, and this afternoon giggle baby and I spent some time laughing together. He's just a mush, and a delicious cuddle bug. He's very smart, and loves to joke around, if you can imagine a little one not yet two, playing jokes.

His eyes get big and there's a mischevious glint in them. That in and of itself makes me laugh and then he pretends that he cannot find me just like I sometimes do with him. It is very difficult to be sad, upset or even serious when you are holding a smiling small person in your arms. Maybe that's why I've always loved children.

Haveil Havalim-The Purim Is Over Edition

Jack's done it again, and by this point in time Purim really is over wherever you may live.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Sesame Street Part Two

I had meant to write this the same day that I finished part one, but obviously that didn't take place. Then while I was cleaning the house on Thursday I heard a familiar voice. Very funny! No, it wasn't in my head. Although, I will admit that I do talk to myself quite often. This voice came from the tv that was on in the living room. It was a commercial about asthma medication and there she was, Gina. That's how most of you would know her.

"Gina" is the veterinarian on Sesame Street, and one of the three actors from the show that I have met. Our children played at the same park when they were younger. The first time I met her I knew that she looked familiar, but I couldn't place her until I heard a little boy screaming that he wants his Elmo. He had buried it in the sandbox and couldn't find it. Then it dawned on me, and I turned to a mother next to me and said, "Isn't that..." "Yes, it's Gina from Sesame Street." I hadn't even had a chance to finish my question.

She wasn't surrounded by children or their parents. I don't even think the kids thought of her as someone other than another child's mom. I didn't get to know her too well, but she was always friendly and down to earth. She played in the sand, changed diapers and bought ice cream just like the rest of us. DB was a year older than her kids and at that age it made a big difference. So our kids played near each other but not together. Though there were times when DB would share his toy cars.

I haven't seen her around the neighborhood in quite a long time so I don't know if she still lives nearby. But I have seen her on bit parts on Law & Order, and in a commercial or two. Gina is still a regular on Sesame Street, and she looks exactly like the mom I knew in the park.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

I'm Back

...and the gloves are coming off!!!

We're going to trial in May. The ex and his attorney should be prepared because there aren't going to be any settlement negotiations. The Administration for Children's Services (ACS), formerly known as Child Protective Services, opened and is in the middle of another investigation about the ex and how he treats DB.

If you know of any tehillim lists, I would greatly appreciate you adding DB to them. Shlomo Yitzchak ben Feiga Rochel.

Thank you

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Free Stuff

I got my first free stuff. It's from Swiffer and it's a duster with refills, a bottle of Mr. Clean spraycleaner and some magic eraser sponges. DB likes the way they smell, and I'm guessing it's the Febreeze in it.

Anyway I joined "the mom blogs" and answered an e-mail about this. I had to post at least twice a week, and be willing to post about the products. They didn't say that I had to say anything good, but I do like them. I've fulfilled all the requirements and have a clean and nice smelling home to boot. It's too bad they didn't send someone in the box to actually do all the work too.

btw-they still need people who are willing to do this if you know of anyone who's interested.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

I Have Been Writing

...just not posting. But tonight I decided to ramble.

I'm happy. Yes, I am. I know I recently wrote about a relationship I didn't think was going to work out. So, let me explain. I wrote that when I was upset...obviously. I was hurt about something that Cowboy said to me. Instead of acting like an adult and just telling him this, I felt the need to pull away and I also think I was trying to hurt him back. Yeah, yeah, I know. Not the most mature way to handle things. But who said I was mature anyway?

I did end up talking to him, and of course I felt so much better afterwards. Yes, it's another lesson learned, and one I thought I already knew.

Now, it's time to gush for a bit. Yes, I know you're reading this and laughing to yourself that deep chuckle that makes me smile (directed at Cowboy). I like him. I've started to feel more relaxed in our "relationship" or whatever you want to call it. The phone calls last for hours, and I wish they took place more often. That's kind of silly to say considering that we talk about between 4-7 times a day.

This is the thing. I guess what has made me feel more secure or relaxed or whatever, is that I just found out last night that he told a friend about me. Now it's possible that he's told people about me before this point in time, but he didn't let on to me that he's done so.

And then there's the fact that he calls me all different names. Most of my good friends have special names that they call me, and that I call them. I wrote about this before, and I believe that these names connect me to the people who have given them to me. The more names someone calls me the stronger the tie I feel to them. It doesn't have to make sense to you. It's just the way it is for me.

I remember the first time Cowboy did this it was in an e-mail after we had been talking for a couple of weeks. No one had ever called me that name before, and I've been called lots of things. Stop laughing! I'm not talking about those kinds of names.

Wait a minute! I just remembered that even before we ever spoke on the phone, and I think from the first time that we ever corresponded, he called me a name that had to do with my blog. It wasn't Come Running or a diminutive of it, but it showed that he actually read and remembered what I wrote. This was while we were just friends, and neither one of us was interested in a relationship with the other.

Now that things have changed and he actually knows my real name, he's called me by so many different variations of it... not to mention another name that drives me bonkers. He does it to tease me, and it works. But I just can't get angry at him about it and I end up laughing along with him. Of course, now that I've written this he will probably bug me about it even more.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Not Dorothy Anymore

At least I know I do it. Don't they say that admitting you have a problem is the first step to correcting it. It seems that I have a tendency to choose men that are unavailable to me. And yes, I know why I do it too. It also seems that I have a tendency to push away men that are available to me. Smart, real smart CR.

Y'all know about the guy I care about in Texas. The funny thing is that he's a real cowboy. Not in the roping, shooting, riding horses kind of the word, but as in attitude and behavior.

Anyway, just got off the phone with him. One of the things that I really like about him is that he's honest and up front, and so am I. I have never had a relationship like this if you can call phone conversations from hundreds of miles away a relationship. Anyway, it's kind of hard for me to make myself vulnerable or rather I really dislike doing it. I'm sure that most people don't enjoy that feeling.

My body reacts and I feel my chest tighten up and pull in as if to protect my heart. Oh! Another enlightening explanation about why I choose unavailable guys.... that way at some point in the relationship I have a reason, an out, so that I can say good-bye. I've been trying this past year to work on this problem, but obviously I'm not doing too well, or maybe I am getting a little better at it.

I didn't completely shut down and pull away from Bud when things weren't working out, although, he was definitely unavailable. Oh, and Chassidish well, that was really just sex. I could go through the list of guys, and maybe I should. But I know I'm repeating a pattern. Although I have made some good friends out of the guys that I've dated.

I think that marriage for me is out of the picture. I can't see myself trusting a man enough to marry him. This doesn't mean trust with regard to sex, or money. This means with my emotions... the most precious of all. I'll gladly give my love to you, but when you get too close to me I'll run away. Yeah, I'm a scaredy-cat. Big, strong CR who takes care of DB, does a lot of her own work on her divorce, and feels comfortable representing herself in court is scared to feel. I just want to pull in and close down.

Obviously, something went down or came up today. Funny how those two sayings can mean sort of the same thing. Yup, I spoke with Cowboy. It was a good, honest, open conversation which makes me respect him and care for him all the more. Maybe that's what makes me feel like running away. I don't like that I feel this way.

I like to be in control of me. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with my marriage to my ex, and how he controlled me, whether we went out or not, who we saw, and it got to the point that he controlled the way I felt about myself. Giving anyone some control or letting them in a little is frightening. How do I know they won't treat me the same way? OK, OK, I know that's just an excuse albeit a valid one.

So, where do I go from here? I'm just not sure. I'll keep on pushing my comfort zones, even if it terrifies me. To be honest with me (you guys, just get to be in on the conversation I'm having with myself right now) I don't think I'll ever end up even meeting Cowboy or if that actually does take place I can see it being a one or two time thing and then me saying good-bye and riding off into the sunset.

I was going to write "Maybe if I work hard enough I'll come back in the morning." But I just don't think it's going to happen.

There's a huge possibility that I won't even post this. See! I am a big 'fraidy-cat or that I'll post it so that I don't have to talk about it with Cowboy; more 'fraidy-cat behavior. But, I actually did tell him most of this already. YAY ME!!! A very hard thing to do, very scary. It helps getting this out. But I still hurt inside because a part of me knows that I'll probably be saying good-bye sometime soon.

That was so not fair of me to write. See, I'm pushing him away just by writing that. That way I don't have to be the one to say good-bye he'll say it for me. You can just call me the Cowardly Lion. And maybe someday I'll see the wizard and get some courage.

Did I Do It?

I just sent in three poems to a poetry zine. At least, I think I sent in three poems or maybe it was four. By accident I hit a key on my keyboard, possibly enter, and then the whole submission disappeared and another screen popped up. Instead of bothering the editor, I'll wait two months to hear from them. Submissions should be responded to by that time. If I don't get any news then I'll resubmit.

I went over the poems again and again and one of them I didn't even bother submitting. Plus I sent them to a bud for his opinion, but I don't think they'll be good enough to be accepted. So.... I'm waiting for my first rejection letter/e-mail. Giving up is not an option, but I'm wondering how many of these letters will accrue before I'm published by someone other than myself.

btw-did you notice that even my fingers are klutzy???

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Ow! I Did It Again

Yup, I did it again... self-inflicted.

Late last night I was having a conversation with a good bud of mine in Israel. I was in bed while I was talking because it was so late, around 2 a.m. He wanted some help with something so I was on my laptop (to you smart asses out there, not actually sitting on it) and I was trying to get comfortable.

Maybe it happened because I was tired, maybe because the conversation had most of my attention, maybe because I was trying to find something on my computer at the same time, or just maybe it was because I'm very talented at inflicting different wounds on myself. I scooted my tush to lean back in bed and BANG! I conked the back of my head on the wall behind me.

Yes, I knew there was a wall behind me. It's what I lean my pillows up against when I'm writing, reading or working. No, the wall has not moved any closer to my bed recently, and no, I had not been drinking.

I've got a nicely sized raised bump on my head. When I do something, I make sure to do it right. But at least it can't be seen like some of my other mishaps here and here and yes, here. And I finally understand the saying "seeing stars". The pain took a minute to register and then WHOMP! It hit me like a ton of bricks, or a cement wall, take your pick.

Hand me another bag of ice and stop laughing!! OK OK, how can I ask you to stop when it still makes me giggle, hee hee. I hope the swelling will go down enough so that I can put on one of my numerous baseball hats when I go to pick DB up from school.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Selamat Datang

Yahoo! thinks that I now speak Behasa Melayu, Malay, Behasa Malaysia or aka the Malaysian Language. Yesterday I opened my Yahoo! account and up popped "Selamat Datang, CR."

When I told my friend on the phone that I was talking to, we tried guessing which language it was before I looked it up. My guess at some sort of Polynesian was the closest.

Of course, that still doesn't explain why Yahoo! thinks that I understand the language.

Who Are You?

About three months ago someone wanted to add me to their contacts on Yahoo! Messenger. I had no idea who she/he was so I refused. Then about two months ago they tried to add me again... still no idea who this person was. After the third time they contacted me I responded to them.

This morning, about two weeks later, "she" initiated contact with "toess" and I'm just about positive that I don't know anyone who would start a conversation with me like that.

My question of "who are you?" was answered with, "you were added when we talked... forgot about it... took you long enough to ask."

Now I don't remember chatting with someone about toes or even feet so I asked again, "Who are you?" and got, "sweettoes how many more times?" I burst out laughing and looked at my feet; manicured toes painted big apple red, smooth heels, and soft soles. Not bad, but there's no way I would forget someone calling me sweettoes, maybe she was referring to her own.

"Who are you? Maybe you think I'm someone else?" I asked. She continued, "no, i do not your 56 yrs old and not called john" This was definitely starting to get interesting. What immediately popped to mind is "why isn't he called john?" Maybe she's a hooker and trying to refresh his memory.

At this point I really wanted to know what was going on and who this person was. "Who are you?"

"why?"

"I think you have me confused with someone else."

"ok then i delete you and apologise"

There haven't been any more messages, but I wonder whatever happened with Sweettoes and Not John.

Sunday, March 9, 2008

I'm Lucky

I'm very lucky actually. I have wonderful friends. They care, listen, understand and are there for me. Most of my friends right now are new ones, but just as dear to me as the ones I made in third grade while cutting gym and hiding under the teacher's desk listening to my new radio.

Basically, the reason for this post is a big THANK YOU!!! You make life easier and much more enjoyable. You put up with my tears and make my cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much. I wouldn't trade y'all for anything.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Friday, March 7, 2008

A Friend's Letter

A friend of mine lives in Israel with his family. Here is part of an e-mail he wrote to me this morning.



It's so sad here, CR. I've been listening to the funerals on the radio this morning. Heartbreaking - tear-rending. Crying mothers and fathers and teachers.

Two of the boys were Yoni's age (15). He listened with me, and we held our hands together for a few minutes with his head on my shoulder as they spoke of the irony of bringing in the month of Adar in joy, while we cry over this massacre of these young, idealistic men - they were the best of the best, CR. Most of the others weren't much older than Yoni, either. It hit home.

It's like, I wanted the journalists to stop - to take the microphones away from the parents. I wanted them to stop recording the parents crying. I wanted them to leave them to their pain. I don't know if it was because of how hard it was for me - maybe it's because of that, that I felt it must be hard for them. I could feel it.

Really?

I haven't thought of myself as factious, but just tonight a friend told me that I'm contrary, defiant, like to question authority, and rebellious. I just laughed and told him that it's not surprising he said that considering who he is. Then I laughed some more just to irritate him.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

No Words

Baruch Dayan Haemes

I have no words for what took place today except that I'm glad that no matter what's going on in my life right now, I can still hug my child.


Prof K eloquently writes about every parents' worst fear.

Funny And So True

Super Raizy is on the money with this one.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

ARGH!

I'm stuck. I can't write or rather nothing decent is coming out of me. I know why, but when I try to write it out in a post or poem it makes no sense or is just plain horrible. Maybe it's because I'm just not sure of what's going on, and I need a feeling that's strong that encompasses me instead of confusing me.


I've been getting some, ok ok, a lot of questions recently. They usually start with "I've been reading your blog. Who are you writing about? Are you dating? What is going on ?" So here are some answers...

He's a friend or started out as one. I've known him for awhile and then things just changed one day. Up to that point we had only been e-mailing and chatting. Then we spoke and y'all know how I am about voices. I know that in the past that I've said, "this guy I like has a great voice!!" But this man has a voice to melt glaciers. My legs turn to jello when I hear it. I was a goner, but only because I've known him for quite some time.

There's a connection between us. Maybe he's experienced it before with other women, but I've never experienced it at all. It's frustrating, fascinating and has me so off-balance and confused. He "gets" me. I can talk to him about anything, really ANYTHING!! I've never ever in my life been able to do that. I could also talk to him for hours. Actually, we have been talking for hours and hours. I know about him, his family, friends and what I hear I like.

Yes, he reads my blog. I'm not sure if it's regularly or on occasion, and there's a chance he might read this. That still doesn't stop me from writing. He knows all of this anyway, and it just helps me figure things out. He lives in Texas so we haven't met yet. Yeah, yeah, I know. I just wrote that I wouldn't spend time on the phone with someone I might date, and that I would get to know them in person, but this is different. I already knew him, and I've seen pictures of him. He's a good-looking man. Yummy!!

I Guess I Do

I've been told I talk in my sleep. I never really believed it until tonight. While putting DB to bed we were both dozing, and I woke us up saying very loudly and distinctly, "Hold her up so she can see." I was dreaming that our cat could not see the artwork, and she needed to be lifted up so she could see over the people's heads.

Y'all know that I have very vivid dreams, and obviously that's when I do my talking. So the next time I'm told that I talk in my sleep it looks like I'm going to have to reply "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Monday, March 3, 2008

Welcome To the World!!!

MAZEL TOV!!!! MAZEL TOV!!!!

TB had a big beautiful baby boy! Hooray! Both Mommy and baby are fine and healthy. And Daddy and the three siblings are so excited along with the rest of the family.

Smiling

. The words are all jumbled so I'll just ramble.

I'm smiling at people I don't know, and they're smiling back. It's evident that I'm happy... ugh! no, what an understatement... Joyous... no, that's not it. aaaah... this is it, dancing with laughter and twirling in amazement. I want to share it. how... why would I want to stuff this away? It bubbles up in my walk and my steps are singing with love.

There's a smile in my eyes too.

Wainting

I listen for his heart in the words about his past
wanting to believe I am different
waiting for his chest beneath my cheek
his understanding only brings longing
for a closeness beyond touch

the future is a messenger of sorrowful joy
this bittersweet yearning grows
inward
planted by gentle pain
the inevitable staggers closer

bringing the familiarity and loss of his taste

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Sesame Street Part One

I've loved Sesame Street since I was a little girl. My mother told me the reason that she bought a color tv was so that I could watch Sesame Street in all it's glory. I remember Mr. Hooper, the man who always painted the numbers, and I guess I'm dating myself when I say that I even remember when Kermit was a regular on the show.

One of my favorite bits was when Ernie would take Bert's arm and shake it around like a wet noodle driving Bert crazy. Not all of my Sesame Street memories are good ones. I used to have nightmares about Snuffalupogous, and the thunder and lighting when The Count would count also scared me. But I'm sure Sesame Street is the reason I was reading before kindergarten.

When I got older Sesame Street was forgotten until I started babysitting, and then I was grateful for Big Bird and Oscar. Tears would magically disappear when Cookie Monster would eat the letter of the day against Prairie Dawn's admonitions. Since then I've been a regular visitor to Sesame Street. Little cousins, nephews, more little cousins, and finally DB kept me coming back again and again to see Rosita, Baby Bear, Telly, and of course, Elmo.

Somehow Sesame Street would pop up at unusual times. I might find myself humming




Or singing another one of my all time favorites





Then within a year's time I met three Sesame Street actors. No, it wasn't someone dressed up in a big furry suit, and it didn't take place at an amusement park or show. The first person was Luis which is the reason why I'm writing this post. I just saw an episode of Law & Order SVU and Luis had a bit part.

Seeing him reminded me of the time I went with a bunch of girlfriends to see a movie in Oz. I'm usually an observant person (not referring to religion here), and I take in a lot of what other people just don't see. While we were waiting in line to buy some overpriced candy (chocolate, of course) I noticed a tall gentleman in a suit carrying a briefcase. I couldn't figure out how I knew him, at first. When it dawned on me I got so excited and told my friends, "It's Luis." They looked at me like I was crazy, and I could see them wracking their memories trying to remember a Luis I might have dated. It's true I dated a lot of guys, but not one of them was named Luis.

Even after I pointed him out, they still had no idea who he was. I tried to remind them, "Sesame Street!! He was the repairman on Sesame Street." They started cracking up and told me that Luis would not be here dressed like that with a briefcase in the city to see a movie. I didn't care. I knew I was right. My memory is usually very very good especially about little things of no consequence.

We went to our seats, and I refused to accept them telling me that it was a looooooong time ago, and there was no way I could remember exactly what he looked like. Well, that did it. I knew that after the movie I would have to prove it to them. I made sure that I saw where Luis went once the movie was over.

Luis was standing talking to another man, who could have possibly been his son, and I interrupted them with an, "Excuse me, but aren't you Luis from Sesame Street." Luis replied with a surprised laugh and smile that yes, he was, and then I asked him to please come over and meet my friends to tell them. Their jaws dropped, we all started giggling and then went on to say that we watched him when we were little. I'm not sure that he took that as the compliment we meant it to be. We also made sure to tell him that when we had kids we hoped that they would also see him on Sesame Street one day.

Needless to say as we were leaving the theater, I got in about a dozen "I told you so. I told y'all that he was Luis." which just started my friends laughing all over again.

btw-DB did get to see Luis on Sesame Street