parenting words of advice

while setting up our new office, i found the "words of advice" that my family and friends wrote, at one of riley mac's baby showers. here are some of my favorites.

"Save lots of money - Girls are NOT cheap! You cannot send them back, so love them everyday, even though there is no manual." (Chris Windham, my mother)

"You should have just said, 'No!'" (Jaclyn Schwenk; Look at you, now, Jac! Hehe)

"When in doubt, and she is into everything in your house, just look out your back window and remember - it could always be worse - a boy - or THREE!" (Gina Noble, my friend and neighbor)

"Try not to spoil her too much! Wait - maybe I should be writing this to myself!" (Kim Windham, my sister)

"Before you let her start doing something - banging on a pot - think about what it may lead to down the road - a future drummer?!" (Dianne Painter)

"Be her best friend." (Courtney Miller)

"Do not think that since the first child was so easy that the second one will be a piece of cake. I did. I was WRONG!" (Jaimee Parman; This better not be a premonition, Jaimee! LOL!)

"Dress her in beautiful outfits, everyday. Bows - LOTS of bows - in every color!! Enjoy each day and do not be afraid to ask for help." (Linda McDaniel)

"Sleep when she sleeps. DO NOT madly clean the house and do laundry!" (Tara Knipper)

"Do NOT let her become a teenager! They go crazy at that age." (Sharon Bush)

"Make the next three boys. They are a lot easier." (Gram; This one especially amused me, as my grandmother only had one girl, and it was her fourth and last child - my mother!)

"DO NOT FEED BABY and then proceed to lift baby over head for cooing and fun! BABY MAY PROJECTILE VOMIT IN MOUTH!" (Beth Ann Hensley)

"Do not be afraid to tell someone at Walmart to keep away from your baby. Gina will be the neighbor on call from 7p-7a. I will take the day shift." (Anna Younger)

"Do not stress over the small stuff. It will pass, and she will move onto something new that is even MORE stressful!" (Pat Lewis)

"Keep your marriage strong, and your baby will thrive. Do not put a TV in her room. READ to her." (Rose Sharon Hunt; Reading has become one of Mac's most favorite things!)

"All I know is that you are supposed to burp them, bathe them, and change their diapers. Good luck figuring out the rest!" (Brooke Feltner)

HOLY SHIT!!

Today, I needed a day all to myself (void of the public, free from critical thinking, talking to anyone, etc). So, I skipped work, and decided I would turn on some Christmas music and start baking my Christmas cookies. I cleaned every surface in my kitchen, gathered my cookie recipes, and opened my pantry. Although I had enough ingredients to make a batch or two, once I start baking my cookies, I am like a Kitchen Nazi. I do not like to be interrupted (particularly, to go to the grocery store for extra supplies). Ergo, I made a quick list and made the decision to break my "No Public" rule for 15-20 minutes, while I RAN into Walmart. (Yes, I would have loved to have been able to go to Kroger, instead. However, I find when it comes to baking supplies, there is always SOMETHING they do not have. Then, I end up having to go to Walmart, anyway.)

To my complete joy and surprise, Walmart had every item I needed (in excess), I saw no one I knew, the cashier did not annoy the living hell out of me, and I was able to get in and out (expediently). I was so happy about my conquest that I did not even mind that it started to rain, as I walked out the door, for I had just made Walmart my bitch! I smiled at the Salvation Army lady, shouted "MERRY CHRISTMAS," and walked the 30 feet or so to my vehicle - as I was the very FIRST non-handicap spot. BOO-YAH!! (It is at this point in the story, where I must pause, and give everyone a little backstory on how I operate.)

I live my life how - I believe - all women should live theirs: with full AWARENESS! As you all know (or should if you follow me via this blog or Facebook), my family has been through some rare and tragic events. For this reason, I do not walk around with the "It Could Never Happen to Me" mentality. On the contrary, I live my life KNOWING that it CAN happen, so I should be ever mindful and careful. Please, do not misinterpret. I do not walk around playing the victim role. It is not about BEING a victim. It is about NEVER BECOMING a victim! I am not paranoid. I am not afraid to leave my house. I do not refuse to help others, presuming they will only use and abuse. However, it does mean that I am CONSTANTLY aware of my surroundings. At any given moment, when I am traveling, I can tell you which vehicles are behind me on the interstate AND how long they have been there. If truth be told, I do this same thing - observing the vehicles and people around me - when I go anywhere alone. It is just smart. I am a female - a female who is ALONE. To walk around oblivious to my surroundings is dangerous.

Example: When I was attending UK, my roomie and I decided to drive across the street to get chocolate chip cookie dough (naturally). It was around 9p - late, but not "The Only People Out Late." Being two girls, we were chatting and laughing hysterically the entire time. We made a quick trip in and out, cookie dough in hand, cracking up as we walked to my vehicle. Throughout all this, I - somehow - noticed a car parked in the row opposite us, facing our direction, with the lights on. There was a male sitting in the driver seat. I did not think much of it, as it was not creepy. (For all I knew, he had just gotten into his car and was preparing to leave.) We hopped into my truck, and I proceeded to back out. The moment I started to drive forward - toward the exit - the man pulled out of his space and fell in behind us. He followed us out of the parking lot, down the road, and was still behind us - as I switched on my blinker, signifying I would be turning into my apartment complex. (Now, it is true, I did not know EVERY single vehicle or person that lived in my complex. However, I knew most, and I - also - knew that most of the occupants were college students. Whatever it was about this vehicle and man - I still do not know - but it made me uncomfortable.) My roommate was still talking away, when I interrupted her. I explained that it was probably nothing, but the vehicle behind us was parked near our vehicle at the store and was about to follow us into our complex. I reminded her that when you believe you are being followed you should NEVER drive to your home (otherwise, they know where you live.) Seeing as I already had my blinker on, I decided we would pull into our apartment complex and park at a building on the opposite end.

The moment I turned in, he followed. Out of nowhere, I decided to turn into the office parking lot. There are no apartment buildings there, so the only reason one would park there would be to go to the office (which was closed) or check their mail. He followed. I drove the full office parking lot loop and, finally, parked in front of a random building. He - again - followed and parked five spots down. I told my roommate that we would sit in my truck and see what he did. (Afterall, this whole thing could be coincidence, and he may live here.) We sat there for 2-3 minutes. Finally, he turned off his car, got out, and started to walk toward the building he was parked in front of. I was beyond relieved. We started laughing all over again, making fun of each other for starting to panic. I went to put my truck into reverse and drive around to our actual building, when the man stopped, turned toward our vehicle, and started to walk. I looked at my friend and said, "Umm..is he coming this way?!" Before she had time to answer, he was near jogging, RIGHT TOWARD US! I floored my vehicle in reverse, drove past his car, memorized his plate number, and got the hell out of my complex. We drove around for almost an hour, absolutely freaking out! I called the police, told them what had happened, and they dispatched a vehicle. By the time the police got there, the man and his vehicle were gone. We - eventually - went home, still sticking with the decision to park at another building.

The next morning, the police station called. They asked me to come down and file a report. So, I went and did just that. The police officer I talked to was male, who had a daughter my age. He was disturbed by my story and promised to look into it. (I figured - the Lexington police - YEAH! SURE YOU WILL!) I  left the station, presuming they would throw away my report and that would be that. However, I was wrong (and that, rarely, happens). The officer I talked to at the station called me later that evening. He had ran the tag number, and the vehicle belonged to a Mr. John Winkler - a registered sex offender, with multiple offenses, who had recently been released from jail. The officer took it upon himself to drive to this man's house and threaten him. Apparently, that is what Mr. Winkler does. He waits in his vehicle, when it is dark outside, and watches for unsuspecting females. He, then, follows them home and - does only God knows what. My father drove up the next morning and switched vehicles with me. He made me drive one of his for over a month, until we were certain the man was not coming back. He never did. (Backstory complete.)

After unloading my groceries, I shut my hatch, and headed to the opposite row - in order to shove my cart into the stall. Using my "Spidey Senses," I knew there were - exactly - four people around me: the woman who had just passed my vehicle and was about ten feet from the entrance of Walmart, the two women chatting next to their vehicle (which was parked directly beside the cart stall), and a man who I noticed (while unloading my groceries) walking toward my vehicle/Walmart's entrance. I pushed my cart into one of the stalls, smiled at the two women chatting, and was walking back to my vehicle. Seeing that it was raining, I was walking with a pep in my step. I crossed in front of the man, when he was maybe three feet from my vehicle. Obviously, I already had my key fob in my hand - as I do BEFORE walking out of any store. I had just clicked the unlock button and was in line with the passenger door of my vehicle, when I heard the man say, "Excuse me, Ma'am! Can I ask you a question?" I turned to see the man had stopped at the back of my vehicle and was talking to me. I, also, noticed the two Chatty Cathys were getting into their vehicle, leaving only the two of us standing in the rain. No one could see me anymore, including the Salvation Army lady at the entrance, as my truck is too high. I - immediately - said, "No, thank you! I am not interested." He took another step forward, while I spun around and hopped into my vehicle - hitting the lock button, before the door even closed. I had already started my vehicle, using the remote, at the door of Walmart. Thus, my only thought was - GET THE KEY IN THE IGNITION, SO YOU CAN PUT YOUR VEHICLE IN REVERSE!

As soon as the key was in the ignition, and the vehicle shifted into reverse, I allowed myself to look up and into my side mirror. (I refused to allow myself to panic, as maybe the man had a legitimate question. Of course, what one would ask a pregnant female - who is alone, in the rain - I have no clue.) The man - who I presumed had continued walking into Walmart - stepped out from behind the vehicle parked beside me and stood behind mine. (BAHAHAHA! Stupid move, Sir! I am NOT one of those women who are afraid to kill someone via vehicular manslaughter.) I started to inch back, calmly. He did not budge. He, then, started to remove one of his hands from his pockets. It was at this moment that I was hit with a lightning bolt of realization - he has had both hands in his pockets the entire time! *YOU FAIL ME SPIDEY SENSES!!* Being that I am a "IF YOU ARE GOING TO TAKE ME, YOU ARE GOING TO TAKE ME DEAD" type of chic, I decided - better him than me. I *SLAMMED* my foot on the pedal, jolting backwards. He jumped, making it half out of the way on his own - the other half courtesy of my truck. The last thing I saw - out of my rearview mirror - the man was stumbling to his feet, trying to figure out what had just happened.

For those interested - he was wearing jeans, a dark brown/tan jacket (Carhartt knock-off), and a plain navy blue/black cap. I presume he, now, walks with a limp. Bastard.

gone postal

i have had some facebook followers request that i post the "RODNEY RANT OF FEBRUARY 2010." for the true "fans of ran" out there - here you go! :)

warning: strap in! serious venting to follow!!

"I received a letter, today, in the mail from a friend. Although I have yet to check this fact, I presume my friend had the letter weighed because it had a 79 cent stamp in the corner. The reason for this was obvious, as the letter was actually a multiple page printed document on he and his fiancee’s wedding in Anguilla (travel/hotel info, etc). On the outside of the envelope, THE POST OFFICE STAFF THEMSELVES stamped the following: 'Postage due 43 cents. Exceeds 1/4 inch thickness.' My first thought, '1/4 inch?! ARE YOU EFFIN' SERIOUS?!' My second thought, 'I am surprised they delivered it, if there was not enough postage.' About that time, I noticed another envelope inside my mailbox - one of those small, orangey/brown ones. At the top it read, 'Carrier’s Statement. The following is a statement of the amount required for each of the items indicated and if there is any part that you do not understand please call it to my attention.' The mailman had then checked 'Postage Due Mail' and written '43 cents' out beside it. Signed, 'Rodney, London Post Office.' First of all - RODNEY - if the postage is short, that is NOT my damn problem! You people needed to 'RETURN TO SENDER!!' SECOND, 1/4 INCH TOO THICK?! WHO THE HELL DO YOU PEOPLE THINK YOU ARE!?! FIRST, YOU GET CHARGED IF THE ENVELOPE WEIGHS TOO MUCH. SECOND, THERE IS A CHARGE IF SAID MAIL IS NOT STANDARD SIZE AND IS INSTEAD SQUARE-SHAPED. NOW, THERE IS AN EFFIN' THICKNESS MEASUREMENT?! YOU ALL HAVE WAAAY TOO MUCH TIME ON YOUR HANDS! IF YOU WANT TO MAKE UP RIDICULOUS THINGS - FINE BY ME - BUT TAKE IT UP WITH YOUR CUSTOMER. I AM THE **RECIPIENT**, NOT THE SENDER! IT WILL BE A COLD DAY IN HELL BEFORE YOU GET 43 CENTS FROM ME, FOR A LETTER I DID NOT SEND! EVEN THEN, YOU WILL HAVE TO PRY IT FROM MY DEAD, COLD, VICE-LIKE GRIP! F YOU, POSTAL SERVICE! F YOU!!"

this facebook posting, naturally, spawned numerous comments. that evening, after calming down, i wrote rodney a message and posted the following on facebook.

"'DEAREST RODNEY, IF NOT ENOUGH POSTAGE, PLEASE RETURN TO SENDER. THANK YOU!' (To my critics - I am fully aware that I could have simply thrown his orangey/brown envelope away and that would have been the end. However, I wanted Rodney and the Post Office to a.) KNOW I reject their nonsense and b.) have to spend their own money to send it back!)" (yes, yes - their money is my money, your money, taxpayers' money. whatever! i was entirely too infuriated to think rationally.)

two things should be noted. the day this occurred (feb 10, 2010), i was six months pregnant. these type of hormone-induced rants became so frequent that i coined them "ones of hysterical blindness." secondly, many people asked if i ever opened the letter. my response - OF COURSE, I DID!! i ran the entire document through my copier, and then resealed the envelope! 1 - RAN; 0 - RODNEY hehehe *evil laugh* (sidebar - this type of behavior should be expected, whether i am pregnant or not.)

since this event, rodney and i have had many "battles." (hence, the above rant title includes the date.) for instance, there is - also - a "RODNEY RANT OF HALLOWEEN 2010." during that time, he DELIBERATELY placed my williams-sonoma magazine upside down, so that the halloween spiders were in full display, causing me to stumble backwards and fall into the road, gasping for breath!! (certain he knows my fear of spiders. jackass!)

the latest - see picture below.

OH YES!! that lazy piece of shit rodney rigged up some sort of contraption, using a huge rubberband and the flag of my mailbox - wish he would have broken it, so his ass would have gone to prison for committing a felony!! actually, maybe he DIIIIID break it. *wink, wink* - rather than walking the 20 feet or so to my front door.

all i know - 'TIS THE SEASON TO JACK YOU UP, RODNEY!! GAME ON!

"if it's not one thing, it's your mother." - robin williams

My mother watches Riley Mac on Wednesdays, while I am at work. When Mom asked to watch her, a little over a year ago, we had some timing conflicts. For whatever reason, Mom thought I would not be at her house until 8:30a (difficult to do, if I am to open the store by that time). As a result, I would find myself showing up at her house between 8:00a and 8:15a, with NO ONE at the house, as Mom would be at the grocery store (or wherever someone her age goes before the sun comes up). It was frustrating, to say the least. Finally, we got on track, and I have been consistently dropping Mac around 8:00a.

As time went on, and Riley got older, Mom and Dad developed a fun tradition - breakfast with Mac at Cracker Barrel. Mom gets super excited and - according to Dad - wakes up early and paces, while waiting for Miss Mac to arrive. Mom has become so pumped about breakfast with her granddaughter that, now, if I am not at their house by the crack of dawn, with Mac dressed and ready to go, I catch some serious grief. So, this morning, I made a point to wake Riley 20 minutes early (she was less than thrilled), to ensure she was all cute and ready for the day. I brushed her teeth, dressed her in an adorable outfit, new sparkly shoes, fluffy jacket, warm toboggan - THE WORKS!!

Living less than two miles away from my parents (an issue all its own), I arrived at their house at 7:53a. I got Mac and her belongings out of the truck and led her inside. (I remember thinking it was odd that Mom did not open the garage and come rushing outside to greet us and, immediately, transport Mac to her vehicle.) When we walked inside the house, Mac a few feet ahead of me, I heard Mom let out some sort of excited exclamation to see Mac all precious and "ready to roll." I continued walking into the kitchen, to find Mac in Mom's arms, as Mom proceeded to tell her all about their plans for the day. I noticed the plan was different than usual and said, "Wait! Are you all not going to breakfast?!"

Mom: "No! We are decorating the Christmas Tree, today!"

Me: "Uh huh, uh huh, but - like - NOOO breakfast?!"

Mom, elated: "I will probably make pancakes here!!"

Me, still not believing/comprehending: "Okay, so, you are NOT going out to eat?!?!"

Mom: "Oh, yes! We will, definitely, go out later today!"

Me: "I wish you would have told me, as I woke Mac up early *JUST* so she would be ready to go eat breakfast."

Mom, smiling, clearly not understanding my frustration: "We are still going out."

Me: "Yes, but she could have slept longer, and you could have gotten her dressed, this afternoon. I brushed her teeth, for goodness sakes!"

Mom, grinning ear to ear, in a sing-song voice: "Today is Christmas Tree Day!!"

Realizing that continuing to attempt to make her understand my frustration was futile, I gave Mac a big hug and walked out the door.

As I got back into my truck and fastened my seatbelt, I felt my eye starting to twitch. I said a quick prayer, praying that this was a random, isolated event and that my day was not headed down THAT path. I pulled out of the driveway and headed to Starbucks, certain that would put a smile on my face.

Not even 20 seconds after turning onto 192, a truck pulled out in front of me, accelerating to 3 MPH, carrying a load of - well, EVERYTHING!! There were tons of garbage bags, small pieces of wooden furniture, brightly colored bows, small children, etc. Out of no where, shit starts falling out of the back. I have to swerve - TWICE - to avoid two huge bags, while nearly giving the elderly woman in the oncoming lane a stroke! After I gunned it past that asshole (in a silent rage), I managed to get behind ANOTHER slow ass vehicle! I started to pace my breathing, STILL convinced that the day was going to be all right.

Starbucks went off without a hitch, fortunately. I was just starting to smile and enjoy the drive, when I arrived at the 192/25 intersection. Is it just me, or does NO ONE ELSE REALIZE THAT THERE ARE *TWO* - COUNT THEM *O.N.E.*, *T.W.O.* - EFFIN' LANES TO TURN ONTO 25?! Remember?! They did all that construction, awhile back, to better field the school traffic?! I waited and watched, as FOUR separate cars in front of me REFUSED to turn onto 25, until BOTH lanes were free and clear. When I finally made it close enough to turn, I took my truck off road, drove the quarter of a mile to the school light, at approximately 50 MPH, zooming past everyone. Once I merged, I felt better, as I allowed myself to scream at the top of my lungs. I drove maybe 10 feet and then - STOP!! The entire line of traffic, unexpectedly, halts! At this point, I shout to no one in particular (as I am the only person in my vehicle), "There better be a 5 car pile-up, because if we are stopped for no reason, I am going to start shooting people!!" SURE ENOUGH, after advancing a few more feet, I see it - a police officer has someone pulled over, OFF THE ROAD, IN ABSOLUTELY NO ONE'S PATH! The line has stopped for the sheer pleasure of gawking. (I.HATE.GAWKERS!) What is, normally, a 5 minute drive down 25 to the store, became a half hour ordeal.

My eye is still twitching, my heart rate is elevated to an unsafe level, and I have completely given up on trying to control my breathing.

since when do we own a sledgehammer?

*i wrote this blog on monday, but could not post until today, for it contains information that i was not ready to announce.


HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!! as i type, blood is running from my knee and down my leg. furthermore, my mouth tastes of metal, and my lip is already swollen. (i will be visiting my dental neighbors this evening.) here is the story, as it unfolded.

first - I AM A FRANTIC MESS, TODAY!! i was without internet access, from yesterday afternoon until this morning. (i could barely breathe, yesterday!) i had an appointment scheduled for first thing this morning. unbeknownst to me, my friend canceled. she did so via facebook, so i found out too late - aka - after i woke up and was heading to meet her. (i have been trying my best not to hate her, as i was unable to sleep in and had to get out in the rain, as a result.) when i realized my morning was wide open, i tried to see the "positive" in the unexpected change of plans. (typically, i would lose my mind, as i HATE change - particularly spontaneous disruption.) i convinced myself that a starbucks run would cheer me up, and that i could - now - use the remainder of the morning to prepare to leave town. somehow, i convinced myself that this change was for the best and was - actually - a blessing in disguise. (seriously, the new me is amazing!)

i drove back home, starbucks in hand. when i arrived at my kitchen table, i was damn near cheery, while eating breakfast. when i finished, i started to pack. it ALL went downhill from there! i could not find half the things i needed! i was beginning to feel overwhelmed and unprepared - AND I AM ALWAYS PREPARED! i decided not to unravel. i did the best i could and then called warren to run a couple errands. in the end, it all worked out, and i was back to feeling fabulous. mac and i made a quick trip to the bank and was singing/dancing away, as we pulled into the garage. (if i had to do it all over again, i would have forgone the bank trip.)

i pulled into the garage and put my truck in park. i turned around to tell mac that i was coming to get her. she grinned, still dancing in her car seat. i opened my door and was in the process of lowering one foot onto the garage floor, when i saw it - A SPIDER DANGLING NOT EVEN AN INCH FROM MY EYE!! IT WAS AS IF MY WORST FEARS HAD COME TRUE! (every morning - when on my way out - i flip on the garage lights, before i open the door leading from the house into the garage, allowing the spiders time to scurry into the nearest dark corner. provided i do not see them, i am able to walk to my vehicle in a calm fashion. i, also, wait 3-5 seconds after opening the door juuuuust to make sure a spider is not on top of the door frame, waiting to leap down onto my head, instantly killing me. this is no joke, as warren can tell you. i am in constant fear of a spider attacking me from above. i guess because, if i were a spider, that is how i would go about it. humans are idiots. they never expect anything to come from above. I DO!!)

anway, as my foot is already half out of the vehicle - all my weight shifting downward - there is no stopping my exit. i have no choice but to go into defense mode. the spider is dangling on my left side, so i use all my energy to fall right. i do so, smashing my mouth against the edge of my door - instant pain and tears, as blood drips from my mouth. my mouth bounces off the door, and my body starts to fall backward - TOWARD THE SPIDER. seeing as my fear of spiders is greater than the pain intensifying in my mouth, i urge myself forward into a protective ball, thinking that i must protect my unborn child. (oh - yeah - now is a good time to let the cat out of the bag. I AM PREGNANT!! YAY!) my right knee slams against the door and then the garage floor, as i tuck and roll under my door and into the middle of warren's garage space. i, immediately, jump up and start scanning the air for the spider. i see him, still hanging there, and become blatantly aware that my door is wide open with mac inside! for a second time, maternal protective mode shifts into full gear. i slam the door closed and run - backward - never letting my eyes leave the spider.

once i am back a good ten feet, i start to feel it - my knee - OWWW! i can see the blood starting to seep through my scrub pants. before i have time to think about my state, i hear mac screaming in the truck. (she must see the spider, too, and is terrified!) i search, wildly, for anything to kill the spider. the first thing i see is a sledgehammer. (up until this moment, i did not even know we owned a sledgehammer. seriously - why? what does warren need with a sledgehammer?) i pick it up, noting that it is way beyond the weight limit for a pregnant woman to lift. (i do not care.) firmly grasped in both hands, i raise it up above my right shoulder - fury in my eyes. as i am about to swing the hammer forward, a moment of clarity sets in. i become fully cognizant of my surroundings. i see my reflection in my brand new vehicle, wielding a 30 lb sledgehammer, to kill a spider the size of a quarter. (okay, maybe he was only the size of a nickel. whatever. his eyes were still glowing red, so fairly certain it would have been justified.) i contemplate how pissed warren will be, when i smash my new truck's window. i determine he does not love me that much and put the hammer down. i turn to where the sledgehammer was laying and see a broom. (honestly, how did i not see the broom FIRST?! all i saw was the hammer. odd.) i grab the broom and - holding the last half inch of the handle - use the straw end to swipe across the web string and - SLOWLY - bring the spider to the floor. the moment he hits the ground, he starts to run. my survival instincts kick back in. i toss the broom and grab the sledgehammer, where i proceed to pound the living shit out of him!! when all is said and done, not a sound could be heard. even riley, who was screaming two seconds prior, was seated - QUIETLY - in her car seat. (i still believe her fear of the spider silenced her, not the brutal murder she witnessed.) i calmly set the sledgehammer back, got mac out of the vehicle, and walked into the house - with my head held high. i may have left my dignity out there in the garage, but guess what else i left - A DEAD SPIDER!

now, to clean up my knee and head to the dentist. *sigh*

this is my story - 2011 hurricane edition

september is my least favorite month. every year, during this month, i allow myself to remember an event that turned my life upside down - hurricane hugo. although it caused emotional damage that, occasionally, rears its ugly head - for the most part, i embrace hugo and its aftermath. afterall, hugo played an integral role in who i came to be. (i think i could have turned out much worse.) nonetheless, i still find that i throw myself into work, projects, cleaning, etc - as if to create a distraction - only permitting memories to surface, when i consent. (yeah, i am a control freak!) my close friends are aware how difficult september can be, particularly mid-month. for that reason, i will receive a few phone calls, texts, emails, cards, and other expressions of love and comfort. (i, truly, have some great people in my life.)

due to my experience, i have shared my life story with many people - individually, in a group setting, church camps, etc. i used to simply tell the story - what happened - the facts. as i got older, i realized this story was becoming my testimony. whether i think about it or not, it impacts me on a daily basis. (the fact that i live in kentucky - a direct result. the fact that i became a pharmacist - a direct result.) the last time i shared this story with a large group, was at my pharmacy school graduation, a little over two years ago. it was my class president speech. in the past, i have shared my life story/testimony, for the purpose of offering encouragement to others. at my graduation, i shared it to express my thanks. however, in the process, something happened - i impacted people. sounds of people crying, including myself, could be heard throughout the entire auditorium. (there was not a dry eye, in the room, once i finished speaking.)

after the ceremony concluded, NUMEROUS people approached me - family, friends, classmates, faculty, clayton mcwhorter (mcwhorter school of pharmacy's namesake), and various audience members. they hugged me, thanked me, and praised me for sharing my story. to be honest, i - barely - remember what most of them said. their kind, supportive words have faded into the recesses of my mind, because what i remember most is a man named mark. to this day, i do not know much about him. i have no idea why he was at my graduation. (to my knowledge, he was no one's husband, father, or brother.) i had never seen or met him, previously. however, while surrounded by my family and friends, i saw him standing outside the circle of people - sobbing. for whatever reason, i stepped through everyone enclosing me and approached him. he looked up and said, "randi, my name is mark. i had to find you to tell you something." his speech was broken, as he was having difficulty catching his breath. i reached out and took his hand. (i do not know why, as i do not like touching people.) he continued, "i have been going through a very, VERY difficult time in my life. my sister has been, as well. due to the things going on in our lives, i was uncertain i was going to come, today. i am sooo glad i did! i cannot express how much your words meant to me. i thought my life was a disaster! i lost faith. i stopped going to church. i have been wondering how i am even going to make it through another day. you have given me hope. you have survived so much and made it to the other side. you will NEVER know how much you have changed my life! i was SUPPOSED to be here, to hear you speak! i am going to make it! i know it, now!!" i, immediately, embraced him. we held onto one another, as if our lives depended on it, bawling our eyes out. in my near 28 years of life, i have only had two life-changing, emotional encounters like that with a complete stranger. it is something i hope ALL of you get to experience - at least once. (the impact can be of utmost importance, whether you realize it at that moment or not.)

i shared my story, at my graduation, wanting to convey my thanks and - perhaps - encourage a few people. i never realized what i would get in return. this man - mark - believes i changed his life, and that i was there for him. he is wrong - he was there for me! HE CHANGED ME! since that day, i have tried to live my life, with mark in mind. we have the opportunity, everyday, to support people - encourage people - love people. we have the opportunity to let our light for God shine through. is it always easy? of course not! the cool thing, though - every 24 hours, your day starts, again. (think of it as a continuous new beginning!!)

as i have mentioned - in a previous posting - i have had several things going on in my life, recently. those things, on top of the fact that it is september, have made for an emotionally torturous month. there are, also, a few people in my life that are having a difficult time. despite the fact that many people have asked me to post my speech/graduation video, during the past couple years, i have never done so. it was not the right time. it is, now. hopefully, it will provide a sense of encouragement and diminish the sense of loneliness, to those whom i am referring. at a bare minimum, it will give you all a little insight into me, which i - RARELY - allow to happen.

this is my story (a very brief version).

  

Good Morning: President Westmoreland, Dean Sands, administrators, faculty, alumni, family, friends, and most importantly - my fellow graduates.  Over the past few weeks, I have been desperately trying to think of something profound to say.  Yet, try as I might, I kept drawing a blank.  Two nights ago, I finally figured out my problem: I was trying so hard to force something awe-inspiring out of my brain that I forgot to simply be myself and speak from my heart.  Upon this realization, I knew exactly what I wanted to say; something the Lord has been calling me to voice for almost a year now.

As some of you already know, I grew up in St. Croix - one of the United States Virgin Islands.  My parents had moved there, before I was born, so that my father could build and run several drugstores.  By the time I came into this world, my dad had fully established himself as a successful pharmacist.  Business was booming, the weather was nice, and generally speaking - life was grand!  However, in a blink of an eye, all that changed. 

On September 18, 1989, Hurricane Hugo whipped through St. Croix, demolishing nearly everything in its path.  What was once a beautiful Caribbean island was, now, nothing but shambles and chaos.  The people of the island began to ransack what was remaining of the homes and businesses.  Violence ensued to a level that had, previously, been unseen; men dragging women and children out of their vehicles and leaving them on the street.  Some of the islanders had broken into the Catholic church, sending the priests and nuns running for a safe haven.  These clergy members found shelter in one of my father’s drugstores, which had remained relatively intact.  Armed with only a friend’s shotgun, my father harbored the clergy members, abandoned women and children, and anyone else who sought shelter from the vicious acts that were being committed.

Two days after the hurricane, with criminals still ruling the streets, my father and the people living in his store were still awaiting the Coast Guard and other law enforcement officials from the States to arrive.  While safely locked inside the pharmacy, my father and his boarders heard someone from outside the front of the store shout, “Send the white man out!”  My father knew they were referring to him.  Carrying his shotgun, my dad stepped out the front doors to see two young men, aged 18 and 19, standing several yards away.  One of the men proceeded to tell my father that he must give them his gun, for they were coming inside to take what they wished.  Knowing that they would shoot him the moment he surrendered his weapon, my dad told them that he would not do so, and they should back away.  The men advanced a few steps, again, repeating their demands.  THREE times my dad told them to step back, or he would shoot.  After the third time, the man that kept insisting my dad give up his weapon lunged at my father.  My dad immediately fired his gun, shooting the man in mid-air, causing him to die almost instantly.  The other man took off running.

As one might expect, a trial followed.  Although the jury deemed the shooting one of self defense, my dad was charged with possession of an unlicensed firearm.  For this, he was sentenced to six years in prison.  In a matter of days, we had lost everything, due to either the hurricane itself or thievery - our home, our belongings, our pets, our father..gone!  To add insult to injury, our insurance company conveniently went bankrupt, leaving my family with virtually nothing but the clothes on our backs.

With my father serving his sentence, my mother was left with three children, one of whom was a newborn.  Being a housewife, she had no way to support her family.  As a result, she went back to school - pharmacy school.  It was hard, to say the least. 

School consumed my mother.  She woke up at 4 a.m., every morning, to study before we awoke for school.  Everyday, I watched my mother push herself to play both the role of student and mother.  By the time I became a teenager, I was mad at the world and highly ticked off at God.  How could He let this happen?!  Why did He take away the life and the parents I loved (one to prison and the other to school)?  Why was my childhood stripped away so quickly?  WHY?! 

Despite my anger, life went on.  In 1998, two years after my father was released from prison, my mother graduated from the very pharmacy school from which my dad had graduated - Samford University McWhorter School of Pharmacy.  We moved back to Kentucky, where my parents - both at the age of 42 - started all over.  They started from scratch, turning one store into five.  Upon graduating high school, seeing as I had no idea what else to do with my life, I enrolled in the University of Kentucky’s pre-pharmacy program.  Upon completion, I was accepted here at Samford to take on the challenge of pharmacy school - which now that I am finished - I have ZERO clue how my mother did it, while raising three children by herself!  Although I am the one graduating today, I could not be more proud of my mother at this current moment!

So there I was on my way to Samford, a Christian school, and could not have felt farther away from the Lord.  Other than destroy the life I loved, what had He done for me?!  Nevermind that my family was doing well, back together, and healthy - I felt that God had abandoned me, long ago.  Enter you all!  Overnight, I was surrounded by classmates and teachers who constantly reminded me of God’s love and wisdom, slowly - but surely - restoring my faith.

I share this story so that you all may take home two things.  First, the road that you travel is not always easy.  There will be days where you will drop to your knees, believing all is lost, and wanting to give up.  My suggestion - while you are down there on your knees, anyway - PRAY.  God IS listening!  He will send people into your life, even the most unsuspecting individuals, to extend a hand and help you get back on your feet.  For me, many of those people I found here at Samford.

The second, and final point, I would like to leave you with is this - wake up everyday and be the best version of yourself.  Live your life so that others may see and experience your faith in God, for you never know who is watching and the impact you may have on them.  Jimmy Carter once said, “I have one life and once chance to make it count for something…I’m free to choose what that something is, and the something I’ve chosen is my faith.  Now, my faith goes beyond theology and religion and requires considerable work and effort.  My faith demands - this is not optional - my faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference.”  For some of you here today, the difference you made is within me. Without even knowing it, you saved me spiritually, and for that I am truly thankful.  As the famous anonymous quote goes, “You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.”  Each and every one of you holds a special place in my heart.  I wish you all nothing but success and happiness.  Congratulations on making it this far, and thank you for reminding me what it is to walk with God.

Randi Windham Gardner, Pharm.D.

May 15, 2009

*fans of ran: do not fret! i shall continue to post humor, next week.

"cream cheese! yummy!"

per my new attitude on life - i woke up ready for change, this morning. (it turns out, i should have specified what type of change.)

i woke up at 4:30a, today. i was completely thrilled, as i had slept a solid 4 1/2 hours - HUGE! after playing on my phone, for a bit, i decided to get a few things done. (the amount of stuff i accomplished, between 4:30a and 6:00a, was astounding! i was mucho proud of myself!) once i finished curing cancer - (okay, fine. i, merely, showered and got ready. claiming i cured cancer just sounded cooler.) - i headed into the nursery, to wake mac. immediately, upon opening the door, i was overcome by a smell. although my mind attempted to process, i could not figure out what i was smelling. it was odd - sweet, yet sour; floral, yet dead animal. upon realizing i was having trouble deciding whether or not it was a good or bad smell, i found myself super excited - believing i may be pregnant. (normal scents DESTROYED me, when i was pregnant!) while walking to turn on the bathroom light - rather than the bedroom light, so less shocking for mac - i let the thought of being pregnant take hold. i was all smiles, as i made my way over to mac's crib. the moment i leaned over, to grab her, i knew something was wrong. the smell was MUCH stronger, and there was NO confusion about whether or not the smell was good or bad. it was BAD (very, VERY bad)!! all of a sudden, my hand felt something wet. i jumped back, as the realization of what had happened set in. using my clean hand, i ran to the other side of the room and flipped on the lights. i, then, turned and approached the crib - as if a spider was inside it - slooowly, baby steps, head reared back, waiting to strike. when i got close enough to see inside the crib, my nightmare was confirmed. riley had thrown up - EVERYWHERE! in fact, "everywhere" does not even begin to encompass what i mean. it was not just on her sheets - and blanket - and "pink penguin" - and "bunny." OH, NO!! it was, also, in her hair - up and down her pjs (she had, apparently, rolled over into it.) - on the base of the crib - on the backboard of the crib. (it looked like the aftermath of a frat party!) my mind could, barely, keep up with what i was seeing!! knowing i had about 3 seconds, before my mind DID catch up, i reached out to grab her. however, the moment i took hold of her hand, it slid out of mine. (naturally, her hands were - also - covered in vomit.) gagging, i ran out of the room and grabbed the house phone. i called warren, who was downstairs, and shouted something about "code red." he came flying up the stairs.

i did not have to explain anything, when he entered the room. the smell, nearly, knocked him over. he looked at the crib. then, he looked at me. (in half a second, we had an entire unspoken conversation. one that said, "no need to discuss this, as we must take action!") i shouted, "start the bath. i will get mac." "i am on it," he replied, as he ran toward the bathroom. i grabbed mac - trying to pretend i did not see, smell, or feel the vomit on her or my hands. i held her out, as far as my arms could extend, and carried her into the bathroom. the poor thing started to cry, for she could not figure out what was going on, and why i was upset. i tried to remain calm, talk soothingly, etc - turning my head, every second or two, to dry heave. (i became a doctor of pharmacy - not a doctor of medicine - for many reasons. one of those: i do NOT do bodily fluids; particularly, vomit!!) as i am stripping her down, everything REALLY starts to set in. i stop, take a step back - tears welling up in my eyes - as my gag reflexes start to take over. warren says, "okay, you do not need to be doing this! i am going to take care of the crib!" i try to thank him, but am gasping for air. as he starts to disassemble and disinfect the crib, i toss mac in the tub. the bath, instantly, cheers her up! (bathtime is her favorite!) i am scrubbing her down, continuously fighting the urge to vomit, as i wash chunks out of her hair. the moment she becomes aware that this bath is a quick one, all hell breaks lose! (she ends up crying - while i dry her off, change her, load her in the vehicle, drive her to the babysitter's, and when i drop her off. it was sooooo much fun! *sarcasm*)

upon pulling out of my garage, i start to believe that the worst is over. my stomach is settling. the lump in my throat has diminished. mac is screaming, but we are doing okay. i turn out of my subdivision and get a mile down the road, when it happens. i start to get choked up. i feel something, in my throat. i start to cough. i continue to cough. finally, i begin to cough so hard that my gag reflexes - which are still going haywire - start to override my mental "calmness." i am forced to pull off the road, jump out of my truck, and hurl - in the rain. (the humility experiences juuuuuust keep happening. the joy. *sarcasm*) once i feel confident enough that i can continue driving, i get back in my vehicle.

as i am making my way down the road, i start to debate starbucks. although starbucks is part of my RIGID "on the way to work" routine, i am not feeling well. nonetheless, i convince myself that it would be in my best interest to get something in my stomach. when i pull up to the drive-thru monitor, karnell (my favorite barista) gives me his usual chipper greeting.

karnell: "good morning! welcome to starbucks! what can i get started for you?"

me: "good morning, karnell! it is me." (somehow, he - always - knows that "me" equals ME.) 

karnell: "yell-O there! venti hot chocolate and a pumpkin loaf?"

me: "you got it! thanks, karnell!" 

karnell, as i start to pull forward: "do you know our pumpkin muffins are back?!"

me: "no. i had no idea there ever were pumpkin muffins."

karnell, elated: "yep and they are deee-licious!"

me: "is the muffin the same, as the bread - just in muffin form?"

karnell: "yes! you must try it!"

i am, now, thinking that karnell is - obviously - feeding off the spinach feta wrap decision. (when he first started working, he tried to convince me to order "fun" drinks, yummy foods, etc. my response was, always, the same - "i do not like coffee and am not interested in any other foods. thank you!" he loved this response, as he could not believe someone would come to starbucks - everyday - and not drink coffee. eventually, though, he stopped suggesting alternatives and simply had my usual ready to go.) i ordered said wrap, yesterday morning, and - now - he thinks all is fair game. however, i recall that i am working on a new randi. so, i respond with, "what the hell! go for it!" (after all, pumpkin bread vs. pumpkin muffin - how much difference could there really be?!)

**MISTAKE**

when karnell hands me my "i am synonymous to our pumpkin bread" muffin, it becomes clear that "change" is NOT working in my favor, today! the muffin is overflowing, with some sort of cream filling. the old randi would have simply told karnell to take his muffin and shove it up his ass. new randi - she notes that karnell is enthusiastic about said muffin, and the fact she is switching things up. (plus, it did not seem right to kill his muffin buzz.) so, i hold the muffin out flat on my palm and say, "umm..pumpkin muffin, eh?"

karnell, in a sing-song voice: "yes! it is uh-MAAA-zing!"

me, not buying it: "mmhmm, mmhmm - what do you CALL this muffin, again?" (not even sure why i asked, as the "spinach feta breakfast wrap," CLEARLY, fails to mention it contains an egg.)

karnell, euphorically: "it is a pumpkin cream cheese muffin!!"

..and THERE it is!! cream cheese is all up inside it! (although i like cream cheese, i do NOT eat that heavy in the morning; especially, THIS morning!) flashbacks of mac, the crib, the smell, and my wet hand come flooding to the forefront of my mind. i, literally, turn my head away - pretending to talk to mac, in the back - so karnell does not see me retching. when i turn back i say, "cream cheese! yummy!" *saaaarcasm* i accept the muffin, pull away from the drive-thru, get out of my truck, and throw up - again! once all is said and done, i send warren a text - "i bought you breakfast. you are welcome!" (i may as well take credit, right? pretend i was being a loving, thoughtful wife or whatever.)

by the time i get to the drugstore, i am feeling much better. i am "almost" finding humor, in the fact that i have had two horrendous mornings - in a row! while i am gathering my belongings, to get out of my truck, i notice an elderly man standing at the front of the pharmacy door. (it is 8:15a, and we do not open until 9a.) before i have time to surmise why he is there, i witness the following:

the gentleman bends down and grabs the roll of newspapers that the paperboy leaves for us to sell, inside the store. i watch this man remove a paper, set it on the ground, and then - carefully and diligently - roll the remaining papers up, and insert them back into the plastic sleeve. as i approach the door, he places the plastic roll of papers on the ground and picks up his copy.

me: "good morning, sir! is there anything that i can help you with, other than that paper?"

man: "no, ma'am. just the paper."

me, bending down to grab the roll, noting no change has been left: "have you paid for it?"

man, surprised: "well..uh..no, not yet."

me: "would you like to?"

man, pulling out a pocketful of change: "oh! yes, ma'am! 75 cents?"

me, realizing i have no clue: "that sounds fair."

man: "i have never seen you before. are you the boss?"

me: "i am one of them, yes."

man, ecstatic: "OH! HELLO!! i have been doing business here since..."

we, then, stand out in the cold rain - for 15 minutes - discussing his memories of the store, his love for us, his newfound love for me, what we plan to build next door, his cat, etc and so forth. (he, thoroughly, amused me! totally made my morning!!) eventually, i managed to get inside the store, to start opening up.

the rest of my day was, fairly, normal (as normal as possible, for a day in a pharmacy). all day long i could smell vomit on me; although, i KNOW it was in my head. i, progressively, lost my voice - as a result of the dry heaving and hurling, apparently. my colleague bought me a frosty. (YUM!) all in all - rough start, but a fabulous ending!! i should sleep well, tonight.

*random note: i should vent, more often! yesterday's post set a couple records. 1 - the record number of website views, in one day. (250+) 2 - the record number of page views, for one particular post. (now, at 170+) thank you, all! i appreciate the support and following!

not my usual post

..however, this is my blog. (ergo, i get to post what i want.)

it took 8 posts, but it - finally - happened. i offended someone, and (surprisingly) it was not my mother. (it was a close friend - go figure. for all i know, it happened sooner, but this is the first time it was brought to my attention.)

to begin: in a previous posting, i do not like green peas or ham, i discussed my journey - into vegetarianism. i made reference to the muslim nation. i was being facetious. i do NOT hate muslims! my intention was not to offend, anyone. if i had an issue with muslims (or anybody else, for that matter), i would make it CLEAR - as "beating around the bush" is not my thing.

1. my blog comes from a place of humor, as i thought was VERY apparent. (please, refer to the "disclaimer" and "about me" section.)
2. i stated, in the pilot post, that i was aware offending someone would, eventually, happen. (oops! moving on.)
3. in the second post, take it up with God, i elucidated the following, "humor is my outlet. i like to joke." "i make no apologies for who i am, or what i say here (or anywhere). after all, i am not forcing you to read any of this. this blog is here for me." if you have an issue, with me or my blog postings, please - read that, again!

i have had an interesting 24 hours - actually, weeks (to say the least) - and i am feeling (brutally) honest. so, why stop now?

i am "batting a thousand," as of late. (is my sarcasm coming through, all right?) i have been going through some difficult personal issues. i have not made them public, as (like i just said) they are "personal." plus, i am not all about discussing my private matters. (yeah, i post and talk all day, but you will note that they are comically flippant and, rarely, say anything about ME.) i use humor to mask my true feelings. (is this really THAT shocking?!)

anyway, in the process, of dealing with some things, i lost two friends (one - my decision; one - not). i, believe, i am about to lose a third. am i angry? no. am i upset? not, anymore. i am tired of, constantly, worrying about other people. (does not mean i do not care about other people. does not even mean i do not care about my former friends. it simply means i need to start caring more about me.) does this make me a "narcissistic" bitch? does this make me unworthy of having friends? (ask me if your opinion matters?!)

i did not sleep, last night (no shocker there - insomniac). i thought long and hard about - a lot of things. i am aware that i need to make some changes, in my life - and, recently, i have started doing so. take for instance, my breakfast choice, this morning. due to the fact i have OCD and am a creature of EXTREME habit, i (always) order the same thing, on my way to work. this morning, on the other hand, i "threw caution to the wind." i said, "damn it! i am doing it! i am ordering something different!" i thought karnell (my starbucks barista) was going to have a stroke! (in the end, my decision blew! i ordered the spinach feta wrap - something i would, typically, NEVER have for breakfast. plain cereal works just fine. the wrap was salty and had an egg on it. umm..SPINACH FETA wrap! no one said ANYTHING about an egg!! oh well. now, i know.)

after starbucks, i continued on to work. i got stuck in traffic. "no big deal," i told myself. "you are working on your impatience and demand for everything to go 'just right.'" i found a janet jackson song i love, on my ipod, and sang my heart out! i was feeling fantastic, as i pulled into the drugstore parking lot. i got out of my truck. it was raining, but i REFUSED to let it dampen (no pun intended) my spirits. i opened one of the back passenger doors, to gather my belongings. my laptop came crashing out, slamming onto the wet pavement. (this morning, i slid my laptop into its sleeve, to bring to work - which i NEVER do - naturally. apparently though, unbeknownst to me, i did not make sure the lip of the sleeve was covering the top 1/2 inch of my laptop. guess which end smashed onto the pavement?! OH, YES!! it is scratched and dented all to hell!) i picked it up, noting the damage and the fact the sleeve was soaked. however, before i had time to determine whether or not i was upset - several papers came sliding out, floating UNDER my truck, landing in a puddle, out of reach. i decided - EFF IT! (half my shit is STILL outside, wet, underneath my vehicle. i do not care. if it is still there, after work - great. if not - whatever. i am changing, baby!)

the old randi - she would be infuriated, at the past 24 hours (particularly, this morning). the randi that is working on bettering herself - she decided to focus, on the positive. i saw an old friend, this morning; someone gave me a compliment; someone else made me laugh; bailey is back from the vet; mac is feeling better; warren and i are finding more time to spend together; i am down a few friends, but guess what - i have tons more. i have said it, before - and i will say it, again - my life is complete, with or without others' condonement. all i can do is trust God and keep moving forward. if you want to stick around and support me, it is much appreciated. if you feel the need to walk away, i wish you nothing but the best. today, i start following the music of MY heart!

the lowest high

GOOD LUCK understanding the following conversation!!

warren: "i heard something cool, earlier. today is the record lowest high, for september."

me: "so, today is the coldest it has been, in september?"

warren: "no, today is the coldest WARMEST day, for any previous day in september."

me: "what, now? today is the lowest temperature that has occurred, in september?"

warren: "no, today is the lowest HIGH."

me: "i have no idea what you are saying!? is today the lowest or highest recorded temperature?"

warren: "neither."

*both start laughing*

warren: "today is - i do not know what today is! it is like - there is no other day in september that did not get warmer than today."

me: "NO WONDER i am confused! your grammar! my gosh!"

warren: "it is a double negative. it is correct."

me: "it is a poor grammatical choice, and you know it! either way - have we agreed that it is cold, today?? oooooh - are you talking about how days have a 'high' and a 'low' - and, today, the 'high' was low??"

warren: "yes! another way of putting it is - *laughing* - it is, actually, really hard to put it another way. every other day, in september, has gotten hotter than today."

me, staring blankly: "so, you are telling me that someone has recorded that TODAY is the lowest 'HIGH,' for a september day?"

warren: "yes!"

me: "that is the most RIDICULOUS statistic that i have ever heard!! you are, basically, telling me that, today, is neither the coldest or warmest day of september - that it is in between! RIDICULOUS!! not your fault, but ABSURD!"

warren: "it is a real record."

me, laughing so hard that tears are streaming down my face: "it is a STUPID record! if i could figure out how to explain what the hell just went on, i would blog about it!"

warren, laughing: "just tell them, 'jack is taller than jill, but not jake.'"

me, laughing so hard that i cannot breathe: "i, actually, had no problems with the 11 'J' kids and their various ages. numbers - i get! what i, always, had difficulty with was the 'you have a fox, a duck, and a snake on the side of a river' - or were they IN a boat - was there even a snake?! whatever. i could never understand!"

warren: "i get those, but they are different than the irresponsible parent, who had 20 kids named 'J.' the fox scenarios deal in spatial terms."

me: "exactly - and we know i hate anything spatial! it, literally, blows my mind! *making a gesture with my hands on each side of my head, quickly pulling them away, signifying my head has exploded*

warren: "we know, honey! you like things in your little box."

me: "in my little, SPATIAL box! HA!" *thrilled with myself, as if i have won some sort of contest that warren did not realize we were in*

warren: "only nerds, like us, would have the discussion we just had."

me: "i know. i am going to blog about it, anyway."

warren: "i know you are."

me, turning to leave the room: "i must start typing, before i forget what just happened - as i, barely, understood it the first time! wait - what is today, again? hot or cold?"

warren, smiling: "i am going to pick up mac."

me, running toward him: "no, come back here! it is very, VERY important that i know whether or not there are 8 or 9 planets, in our solar system?!" *pausing, looking at the ground, overcome with sadness* "POOR, PLUTO!!"

warren, reaching out to hug me: "oh no! calm down! i am fully aware of your passion re: pluto and how 'he was, wrongfully, stripped of his title!'"

me, stepping back from him: "HE IS A PLANET, DAMN IT!! 'MY VERY EDUCATED MOTHER JUST SERVED US NINE PIZZAS!' THERE ARE 'PIZZAS,' WARREN! 'P,' AS IN 'PLUTO!' PLUTO IS A PLANET! HELL WITH THE ASTRONOMERS! EFF THEM! EFF SCIENCE! EFF COSMIC BALLS OF GAS! MAC WILL LEARN THAT PLUTO *IS* A PLANET!! TELL ME - HOW DOES A PLANET ONE DAY BECOME *NOT* A PLANET?! IMPOSSIBLE!!" *pausing* "do not even THINK about correcting my grammar, in that last sentence!"

warren, cracking up: "i would not dare! *opens the door, walks into the garage*

me, screaming, so he hears me through the door: "HE.IS.A.PLANET!!" *looking down at samson* "thank you, for supporting me. i know you were, also, hurt by pluto's planetary polemic. OOOOH...three 'Ps!' what is that called, again, in the english language?? ALLITERATION! I AM ON A ROLL, TODAY! by the way, you are my favorite dog. i must go blog."

i do not like green peas or ham

i knew, when i was 9 years old, that i was a vegetarian. honestly, i knew even earlier, but did not realize there were others like me - that it was an accepted lifestyle. i just remember sitting at my grandmother's kitchen table (night after night after night), begging to be excused, without finishing my meal. it would take me FOREVER to chew and swallow a pork chop. i would poke my salmon patty, with a fork, praying it would turn into anything else. i would outright refuse to get a piece of meatloaf, anywhere near my mouth!! (no wonder i hate meat! who serves these types of protein, anyway?! alas, we were poor, so no steaks to be had.) eventually, it became a standard routine, and i did not even attempt to argue, anymore. i would just sit there, after eating all my veggies, until someone released me from the bondage known as "dinnertime." for the longest time, i even hated pizza. why? name one children's birthday party you attended that served ANYTHING outside of pepperoni pizza (or hotdogs). it was not until i became an older child that i found out "they" could make CHEESE pizza. (what a novel idea!)

i do not know if my mother knew that i was heading down the path of vegetarianism. if she did, she certainly never voiced it. in my family, one must eat something dead - DAILY! (i presume they shrivel up and die or something, if not.) there was never an option NOT to eat meat. it was not a choice. it was not up for discussion. it was, "here is a cornish hen. that is right - we love dead things so much, we did not even try to hide the fact that it was once alive! we simply removed the feathers, left it looking all bird-like, and put it on your plate! EAT IT!!" actually, if i am being truthful, "i blame it on the muslims!" (okay, i have no idea why a certain family member pins everything on the muslims, but she is COMPLETELY convinced that they are "going to take over!" she has - no joke - learned how to say, "i worship God," in arabic (or maybe hebrew - i cannot remember), so that when the time comes that will be the last thing she says - "before they shoot her in the head.")

seriously, though, my vegetarian lifestyle may - actually - be the muslims' fault. our neighbors, in st. croix, were muslims. my bedroom window faced their backyard, and they used to perform various religious ceremonies, which included animal sacrifice. no lie - i (VIVIDLY) remember, at the age of 4, seeing goats and pigs hanging upside down on their clothesline, gutted, with blood dripping down onto the grass. now that i think about it - YES - i blame it on the muslims!!

anyway, outside of hearing animals squeal their last squeal or bleat their last bleat, while playing in my childhood bedroom, i can think of no other traumatic events that may have influenced my decision. although my mother (or anyone else in my family) cannot understand it, i just do not like meat. it has never really been my thing. when i was 9 years old, i was fortunate enough to meet my first vegetarian. i still remember sitting, at her dinner table, processing what she was saying - "wait! you do NOT eat meat - and are still ALIVE?! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! are there others out there? you call yourselves 'vegetarians?' is it a club? how do i join? do i have to kill a chicken, with my bare hands, or something??" i was stunned and VERY excited!! A VEGETARIAN!! THAT WAS WHAT I WAS - i just had no idea there was a name for it! i remember being elated and could not wait to get home and tell my mother. now, she would understand, as i totally knew the appropriate lingo! i would tell her, "mom, i am a vegetarian. i am no longer going to eat meat!" i recall the day i told her, and i bet she does, too - she, nearly, stroked out! looking back, i am not sure what i was expecting. she is a carnivore, and carnivores do not understand. (it would be like a puppy telling his doggy daddy that he has zero desire to fetch sticks. he would rather use those sticks to build his best friend - the cat - a house. it goes against the canine code.)

so, you may wonder, how did my mother handle it? i shall tell you - she spent the next 10 years "pretending" that i was not a vegetarian, and continued to serve me dishes that once mooed or clucked. i think she thought that if she ignored the fact that i was a vegetarian, and cooked meat, i would (magically) NOT be one, anymore (that i would be healed from the disease that afflicted me) - or that i would choose to devour the animal, rather than starve. (turns out, i would be excellent in a standoff! starving is the new red, which is the new pink, which is the new..wait..what is the new "in" thing these days? am i still supposed to be practicing kabbalah, or am i a scientologist, now?! do i carry my chow chows in a big sack, over my back - as an accessory - or simply leave them at home? i can never keep up!!) it would get to the point, where my siblings would turn to her and say, "MOM! RANDI DOES *NOT* LIKE CHICKEN!!" her response would be something along the lines of, "oh, are you still doing the not eating meat thing?" (again, as if i was following the latest fad - or still possessed by demons.) it was not until i was 20 something years old and married, when "IT" happened. my mother was visiting b'ham and was browsing the shelves at barnes and noble, before i had finished my pharmacy school classes for the day. when we met up, at my apartment, she reached into her BN bag and pulled out a vegetarian cookbook. i cried. this was the first time, in over a decade, that my mother openly accepted/admitted that i was a vegetarian. it was a special day. i thought, "she finally gets it! this is who i am, and she realizes i am not changing! fantastic!" - then came the green peas and apple pie.

green peas and apple pie have become quite the inside joke, amongst my family. yes, i am a vegetarian. yes, i like "almost" all vegetables and fruits. HOWEVER, i do NOT like green peas or apple pie (really any fruit dessert)! NEVER HAVE!! despite this fact, my mother will make me a side of green peas and apple pie for dessert EVERY.SINGLE.HOLIDAY/FUNCTION/DINNER! when i do not eat them, she looks at me all dejected and asks, "did you not like the peas? are you not going to have any pie?!" now, after all these years, my siblings try to hide their laughter behind their napkin or shove a roll in their mouth, while i say, "no, mother! as i told you the LAST time (and the time before that), i do not like green peas or ham - or apple pie!" every scheduled dinner or event, either kim/sky/kala/or warren will say, "i am going into the kitchen to get dessert. would you like me to cut you a piece of the applie pie that mom baked JUUUST for you?!" we have had so many good laughs over it that i will be sad, if she ever stops making them. plus, i am afraid that once the green peas and apple pie join the way of the ham, she will start with the strawberries and lima beans. (no, thank you!)


*note - i mean NO disrespect, to the muslim nation. take this post, as it was intended - humorously.

why am i blogging about flies?

blogging about flies is my first blog challenge. i must say, i am fairly excited about it!

now, what do i know about flies?? hmmm..well..college biology lab - we "grew" fruit flies and, subsequently, killed them. they only live about two weeks. i remember thinking, "how sad. ONLY two weeks of life?!"

i wonder what i would do, if i were only alive two weeks? that is a lot of time i could spend catching up on my tivo recordings. of course, not sure how important tv would be, if i only had two weeks to live. let me think. OOOOH!! i would fly to japan and participate in one of those ridiculous game shows!! yes! i would, definitely, do that! what else? duh..of course..learn jiu-jitsu, so that the next time i hit someone and shout, "JUDO CHOP," i, actually, know what i am doing - rather than simply pissing off the guy in front of me in the checkout line. (he just looked like a tool. i had no choice. you would have done the same.) wait..i totally know - jazzercise!! since the first time i watched "the grinch," with jim carrey, i have been DYING to go to a class! (mainly, so i can say it how he says it - "i am off to 'yazzercise!'" i laugh, everytime!) OH.MY.GOSH - I KNOW!! the sensor detectors at the door of walmart - you know how they occasionally go off, even though you are certain you did not steal anything (this time)?! well, i have ALWAYS wanted to take off running like hell - just to see what they would do. (i think i may try that, tomorrow, actually.)

umm..wait..what was this post supposed to be about? oh..yeah..flies.

i wish i could fly. that would be a pretty cool talent to have for those damned school talent shows. pfft..little jimmy knows how to play the piano. harumph..adorable rebecca can tap. EFF THEM!! why..because I.CAN.FLY!! TOP THAT, BITCHES!! (now, i have the peter pan song stuck in my head.)

here is something fly-related: some of you have witnessed this, but may not have realized what you were seeing. i was told - when i was much younger - that when flies land, they regurgitate. this "fact" has stuck with me. (i should probably look it up.) as a result, i nearly lose my cool, when a fly lands on me. as germophobic as i am, the thought of anything vomiting on my arm - it is too much! so..yeah..i will swing my arms about madly, while trying not to scream and/or pass out, to prevent the fly from landing on me. (yeah, definitely going to look it up, now.)

http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/2061/do-flies-vomit-every-time-they-land

okay..so, basically, yes. regurgitate, vomit, drool - whatever you want to call it - i am freaked out!! NASTY! furthermore - thanks to my research - i, now, have to worry (not only about fly upchuck), but e.coli traces on its feet. FAAAAABULOUS!! JUST FABULOUS! i am totally stopping this post. thanks a lot, leslie schofield!!