If this is your luck day mention Promotion Code N-6

Today I started my day like any other. Reading the death notices. I know, I know, I'm a big weirdo. I do this for two reasons:
1) My father always told us the duty of the Irish is to visit the sick and bury the dead.
2) I can't tell you the names of the over 1,000 people who came to see each my mother and husband. But I can sure as hell tell you who wasn't there. (Not that I hold a grudge or anything)
I didn't get out to buy a paper this morning so I was reading on line.
I click on obits and to the right I see this. An add for a free casket when buying a crypt.
http://www.legacy.com/PostGazette/Obituaries.asp?Page=LifeStory&PersonId=100457248
Here's how i see it:
This is true. I swear. I am just going to change the end when it's time to pick a funeral home. I'll put in italics what is NOT true.
As with anything in my life, it's always a story. Nothing is ever normal. Why this is, I'll never know. I guess God has his reasons. I've yet to discover them though.
January 19, 2000 started normal enough.
I went to work. Towards the end of the day, my father called to tell me they were putting my mother back in the hospital. Since they lived only a couple yards from the hospital, and having worked there most of her life, admissions told her to go home and wait instead of waiting in the ER. They would call her when her room was ready.
I left work and headed to her house to check up on her. She seemed fine, a little scared, but fine.
I had a hair appointment. I was going to cancel, but she assured me she was fine and would see me in an hour or so. I packed up a bag for her to take to the hospital.
I left and went to my appt.
While I was getting my hair cut. She died.
In the hour that I was gone. Word spread like wildfire. I guess the neighbors saw the firetrucks (first responders) and figured out what happened. So by the time I got back to my house, before my husband even made it to the front door when I walked into my house, a neighbor ran up to me and told me how sorry she was to hear of my mother's passing. I looked at her like she was crazy, Dan was trying to stop her, but it was too late.
So in what was probably the worst thing to happen to me in my life up to that point, it was told to me by a crazy neighbor......typical.
So I literally run to my parents house up the street. The street it still closed off from the firetruck, police, ect.
When I walk into my parents small house, there is my mother, lying in the middle of the floor, with the beloved crocheted throw that her friend Jean made for her covering her.
Relatives and friends were already pouring in and out of the house.
It was then that I thought, this is like a Seinfeld episode. I guess the paramedics put her in the middle of the floor while trying to revive her, and left her there.
So as everyone was filing into the house. They had to step over her.(They had a really small living room.)
So here we are, running back and fourth, answering the door, all the while stepping over her to get to the front door.
My cousin Mary Alice and I went up to her room and found the dress she wanted to be "Laid out in". She told me once a week for 15 years, she wanted to be laid out in the dress she wore to my wedding. (I know, I know)
We took it to the cleaners, came home and she was still lying in the middle of the floor.
How weird this turned out to be.
We had to wait for the Dr. to come and declare her "dead by natural causes". We didn't want her to be taken to the morgue. It took about two hours.
The whole while the policeman had to wait until the under taker came. We laugh now because he was probably thinking, "What a bunch of nuts"
So here's where the advertisement comes in
While we were waiting, could you imagine if someone said
"Lets go to Jefferson Memorial instead of Zalewski's, you get a free casket, and when you call just mention promotion code N-6."
WTF.

Happy New Year. And if, God forbid, you should need them, just spread the word to your loved ones, tell them PROMOTION CODE N-6.

Afterthought:My father and I are sitting in the funeral home basement grabbing something to eat, because we were forbidden to leave by my mother. She always said, "None of this 2-4, 7-9 stuff, If you can't sit with me for two whole days, the last days you will ever see me. I will haunt you. (Maureen, "The Madonna" left, I wasn't chancing it). While we were eating, we could hear them embalbing Sadie O'Neil (another old neighbor, who died a day after mom)in the next room. Again, that would make a great Seinfeld episode. We cracked up. I guess that wouldn't happened if we would have just went to Jefferson Memorial and mentioned promotion N-6.

Sorry such a morbid post, just one of those days. Also my family always found the humor to ease the sadness!

Holiday Hangovers

Whew, glad that's over.
Although, I have to admit, this year wasn't as stressful to me as in years past.
Partly because I cut my shopping list down by about 100 people.
I did this for two reasons. The first being economic, of course.
The second being I have too much stuff I neither want or need.
This is no lie, I have presents still in Christmas bags from last year. It's not that I don't appreciate the thoughts. I do. But I live in a 10 room house that is filled to the brim. Plus I have a wallet full of gift cards that I always forget to use.(they probably expired by now)
So way back in the summer, I call the in laws and give everyone this whole annotation about Christmas being for kids and I am only buying for kids this year. And I won't feel bad if they still exchange, but I have plenty of chuchkies and please, please don't buy me anything, because I am not buying them anything.
They did not listen to me.
Not one of them.
So I go there with five little presents for the nieces and nephews and they start handing me presents under the guise they are from the kids. If the kids bought them, fine, but they didn't.
I don't feel bad.
It was well worth the emotional well being. I actually slept in on Christmas eve instead of doing last minute shopping and wrapping. And got to go to Cafe Sam's Christmas Eve party, which in 20 years could never attend because I was always running like crazy Christmas Eve day trying to get everything done.
I did all my shopping in one day. (Three days before Christmas)

My favorite presents, I got a door mat that says "The Parties Here". That's fun.
How about this. You all know I collect Barbie Ornaments. This year's ornament was Roman Holiday Barbie. How funny is that? My husband always bought them for me, but since he died, Erin took over. How perfect. Plus Ski didn't listen to me either and bought me much needed luggage. I guess they were embarrassed to travel with me anymore with the 20 year old suitcase from Gabes.

Anyways, that's my Christmas in a nutshell.
Surprisingly, no one really pissed me off this holiday season. Again, I think because of the lack of stress.

So what did piss me off this week? (I still need a title for this)
Actually two news events:
1)Last night on KDKA TV News. Former Premier Benazir Bhutto of Pakistan is assassinated. This could have world-changing ramifications. This is big news folks.
You know what KDKA's lead story was? Big Ben might not start on Sunday's games.
CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? You know what I did. Changed the channel and that's it. I am never watching KDKA again. I've had it. I rally mean it. When Pakistan nukes us, I will be watching WTAE or WPXI.
2) Headline: Long standing Hollywood couple decides to call it quits.
So I'm thinking. Wow, wonder who that is. You know who it is? Sean Penn and Robin Wright. Please, they were married for 11 years. I'm thinking, before reading this, wonder who was married for 40 or 50 years that is getting divorced. 11 years. Christ, they're just getting to know each other for God's sake.
3)Or how about the CEO from Mylan that said she has an MBA from WVU. They just happened to find her transcripts last week. Yeah, right.
That's it for the news.
I do know what's going to piss me off in the future though. Cyril Wecht. God I can't stand that man. And the media hype is just starting. How about his arguement against jury secrecy. He doesn't know what enemies he's made over the years.
You know what Cyril, either does the guy who shot someone over a drug deal and got caught. I'm sure he has enemies that could be potential jurors also

Ok done for now.
Next week I'll be all in an uproar. I hate New Years Eve.
I met my husband on New Years Eve.
By the next New Years Eve, we were already married.
We stayed in every year, we would invite all friends who didn't have babysitters to bring their kids to our house. We had alot of fun over the years. At home. I just hated all the hoopla associated with that one night.
Now that I'm single, it's 100 times worse. It's just such a weird night.
Sorry, I wrote half the post for next week now.......

Santa Claus is Coming to Hambones!

dum, dum, dum, dum, you better watch out
you better not cry,
you better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to .......Hambones?

This Thursday we are going to Hambones for Anger Management.

Here's the deal. If you choose to participate everyone needs to bring something really stupid that they want to get rid of that's hanging around their house.
It's called Bad Santa, or Chinese Gift Exchange
All participants bring their gift to “the pile.” Gifts are wrapped, but are not labeled to reflect a sender or recipient. All participants draw a number (from a hat, perhaps) to determine their order. The participant with #1 unwraps any gift from the pile and then shows it to everyone. Each successive participant, in the order determined from the drawing, can either 1) "steal" an already opened gift (if there's one they really like) or 2) be adventurous and go for a wrapped gift from the pile. If the participant chooses to steal, the person whose gift is stolen now repeats their turn and either 1) steals another person's gift or 2) unwraps a new gift. This cycle of stealing can sometimes continue for a long time, until a new gift is chosen, at which point the turn is passed to the participant with the next number from the drawing.

Since items can be stolen, the item in your possession is not yours until the game is over. However, this is often amended with a rule declaring a gift "dead" or "safe" after it has been stolen a certain number of times (usually two or three). This helps the process go more smoothly (avoiding, for example, the hypothetical scenario of the same gift being stolen by every successive participant) and limits the disadvantage of being among the first to choose gifts.

Again, no one is to go out and buy a something nice. This is just something fun. It's not a complicated as it sounds. And who knows, one person's trash, might be another's treasure!Hopefully we can all take a break from the craziness of the season and celebrate.

New this week: I am going to start listing just a few things that piss me off during the week. ie, news events, politics, ordering bagels (just joking, almost) It could be anything that pops into my mind this particular week.

So here goes. I don't have a name for this yet, so any suggestions will be greatly appreciated:
1. The whole UPMC lets send all the kids to school, aren't we great, by the way, we are only going to do this if you give us tax breaks.
Fuck you UPMC and your BILLIONS. You have alot of nerve.
2. IF I hear one more Celine Dion Christmas tune, I am going to slit my wrists. Maybe she will turn into a crack addict like Whitney and we can be done with her. They can get a BOGO at Betty Ford.
3. My heater broke in my car. Damn, it's cold.
4. Rodriguez leaving WVU for Michigan state. The only thing is, I can't decide whose side I am on in this mess. I know one thing, the donors are pissing me off a little by threatening to quit giving money to WVU. How about giving for educational purposes. He's a football coach for christ sake.
5. Pretty much all the Presidential Candidates. I hate them all. Somethings got to give for me here. I know, I know girls, you can all give me a hard time. I HATE,HATE fucking Hillary. I hate her voice, her fake smile, Did I mention I hate her?

I guess that's all I can think of for this week, since I am in the Holiday Spirit and all.
YES I AM!!!
OK I'll pray for my poor old soul Monday at Midnight Mass.
Oh wait, another thing that pisses me off. I knew I forgot something.
NO MIDNIGHT MASS.
What's up with that?
Who came up with that idea?
I don't want to go to mass on Monday at 4:00.
I'm sorry, but if you choose to be a priest. Your job description says you have to work Christmas Eve and Christmas since it is a big day in your chosen field and all.
Hey maybe I don't like working Monday's. Too bad, deal with it.

Hopefully see you all around 8 at Hambones.
Merry Christmas!

Reality Sucks!

I'm Baaack!!!!!
Back to my dull, ordinary life.
Ugh!!!
Why can't I have an apartment at the Waldorf huh, huh,huh?
It's just not fair.
Damn those people.
What a place. I'm tellin you, I was in New York a whole day without ever leaving the Waldorf.
First there's the room. It had a sitting room for Christ sakes.
Who has sitting rooms?
And why should one have one?
One of these days I would like to own a sleeping jacket and sit and read a book in my sitting room.
Maybe even hold a cigarette holder.

Then, there is actually status elevators in the hotel.
The center elevators means you are in the Towers, the ones at the end of the lobby are mere rooms.
So after 24 hours, I actually got an attitude.
Turning my nose up to those who weren't quite lucky enough to have sitting rooms and such.
Ha, the nerve of me.
(We were in Towers, of course!)
Then I did my whole people watching in the Lobby.(My favorite thing) Wow. I really spent my first 24 hrs. in NY without leaving hotel.
I ate a Waldorf Salad at the Waldorf.
I could go on and on, don't want to bore you all.

Back home now.
Walked in house. Dog's bowl empty, house smells like smoke. Fast food cartons everywhere. Dirty socks on the floor. Newspapers everywhere. Mail on floor exactly where it fell when pushed through slot.
Yeah, welcome home mom.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Guess what time I went to bed in NYC on Friday.
10:00. Can you believe it? I just wanted to sleep in that beautiful bed. It's amazing how great you feel sleeping in a bed that doesn't have holes chewed into it from one's dog.
Speaking of, yeah, Smokey was thrilled to see me.
Damn dog.
Well, I'm all rested, ready to go tomorrow.

One thing I did not do in New York? BUY A PURSE!!! I am cured. I left the city without even looking at a purse. I can't believe it. I told everyone I need serious help if I come home with another purse.

Ouch,Ouch, Ouch!!

Warning: Some of this may not make sense. This post is the ramblings of a
woman "Doped Up" on Vicodin and Steroids.
And ya know what? I wasn't even the one rolling on the floor after 38 bottle of Champagne Saturday night, ie, Kathy and Ski. Still laughing about that one.
That's it, maybe I pulled a mussel laughing!Did we have fun or what?????
Since we're on the subject.
The tally from Saturday.
All in all, 38 bottles of Champagne were drunk by 31 people. Included in that number is FOUR magnums. (so I guess that would work out to about 42) Some people didn't give in and had to drink beer, so we also drank two cases of beer. And a bunch of other "Shit"(If you know what I mean!)
For a Grand Total: $2,125.00.

Those of you who missed it, missed a great, great time as the pic to the right can attest to. And the picture below will prove.This was taken half way through the party!

Dis-n-dat:
-Check out Barb's new blog. "Life in a Four Letter State". Too funny. The link is to the left. Just double click on link. I think you girls can handle that.
-I am headed to New York this weekend for my annual trip. Staying at the Waldorf Astoria, Woo hoo! This is my favorite weekend of the year and wouldn't give it up for anything. (Even though this year, I'll be bent over in pain)At least the beds at the Waldorf don't have holes from ones dog. Maybe it'll do my back some good.
-Went to my first Hanukkah party (Is that what it's called?) tonight at Janice's. The "Hanukkah Hustlers" took advantage of the token christian during the Dradle Game.
-While we're on that subject, notice the new Christmas Pic on Blog. Can you guess which one of Santa's elves is the Hanukkah Elf? How about me. I had to look twice. I though it was my son and not me in the pic.
-Thursday is Kathy's Birthday. We are going to be headed to Sunnyledge.
Hopefully see you all around 8:00. I'll be the one hunched over the table!!
-Bunch of other stuff going on, But the state I'm in, can't remember!!!!

Common Sense Got Lost on Sesame Street

OK, I am a bad parent. I admit it. You want to know why I think I am a bad parent?
Oh dear, I don’t think I can admit it. It’s hard to admit to these things. Ya know, when you see it in print. It sort of becomes permanent. Like affirming what you know in your heart is true.
Sigh, The reason I think I failed my children you might ask? I let them watch Sesame street. Jesus, Mary and Joseph and all the Saints, there, I said it. I thought I was doing the right thing, but you just never know.
I just read an article in today’s New York Times announcing the release of Season one of Sesame street.
Here’s the part that gets me. IT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN. Plllleeeeaaaasssseeee. Who are these people? Really, I want to know. How are you?
When asked why it was not appropriate for today’s toddlers, here’s the answer:
“Alistair Cookie and the parody “Monsterpiece Theater.” Alistair Cookie, played by Cookie Monster, used to appear with a pipe, which he later gobbled. According to Parente, “That modeled the wrong behavior” — smoking, eating pipes — “so we reshot those scenes without the pipe, and then we dropped the parody altogether.”

Devin and I were talking the other day. The conversation went something like this:
Mom: Devin why on earth would you start smoking? Was it peer pressure?
Movie’s? TV?
Devin: Well mom, now that you mentioned it. It was TV. I wanted to smoke ever since I say Cookie monster smoking that pipe on Sesame Street when I was 2.

Then there is this issue:
Back then — as on the very first episode, which aired on PBS Nov. 10, 1969 — a pretty, lonely girl like Sally might find herself befriended by an older male stranger who held her hand and took her home. Granted, Gordon just wanted Sally to meet his wife and have some milk and cookies, but . . . well, he could have wanted anything. As it was, he fed her milk and cookies. The milk looks dangerously whole.

Geeze, I remember when there was a rash of little girls missing because some big black guy wanted to take them “Home” to meet the family. When asked why he did it.
You guessed it "Sesame Street".

Come to think of it, they might be responsible for everything every person did wrong that was born after 1969.
A good defense lawyer might try that. Your Honor, my client begs for the mercy of the court. Having grown up watching Sesame Street, he thought the man he murdered was snaufalafagus, and thefore not real to anyone but himself. Ah, too bad Johnny Cochran is dead.

What has this word come to folks?

Along the same lines, I have a friend who is pregnant. I was going to pick up lunch.
I asked her what she wanted, a sandwich maybe? No, was her answer. Dr. told me I'm not allowed to eat lunch meat. Causes birth defects. How about a tuna sandwich? No, not allowed that either. The whole mercury thing. Hot Dog, sorry not allowed that either, causes birth defects. OK, skip lunch, how about a soda. No, too much sugar. Would you like a glass of water I ask? No can't do that either. Not allowed tap water.

I can't believe millions and millions of babies were born to someone who ate hotdogs while watching Sesame Street and guess what?

THEY LIVED TO TELL THE TALE!!!
HOW DID WE ALL SURVIVE?????

Let's get some common sense people. Put the nuts who study these things out of a job and just have some common sense.
Be a parent to your child, but let them be a child who learns from their mistakes. Enjoy your pregnancy, you are not going to harm the kid for life if you stop by the "Dirty O" a few times.
I did.
OK, so maybe I'm not the best example.

Have a happy Thankgiving all. I'm sure I won't be short of topics to write about next week after spending the weekend with my family.

Where to go next Thursday? Lets try somewhere new.
Give me some ideas.

Misc.Things that Piss me off

OK, enough of the goody-two shoes shit. Be forewarned,the gloves are off people.
Things have been pissing me off. Nothing big, just a bunch of little shit.
So I think I'll just list them.
(No particular order of importance, just random bitches)
1. Joggers who run toward you and your dog. What are these people thinking. Ya know, Smokey already nailed one of them. I feel like letting him loose to rid us of the rest of them. Joggers, is that brain jiggling in your head and not working. When a jogger comes up behind me, instinct tells Smokey to protect me. I try to stop and tighten his leash when I hear someone coming up behind me. NEVER RUN TOWARD A DOG ON A NARROW SIDEWALK, GOOF.
2. People who come up on their bikes along side me and scare the shit out of me.
I figured out a way to piss them off though, I'll keep that to myself.......
As my late, great cousin Tootsie would say, "Buy a car, cheap-ass"
3. Students who move into my neighborhood and can't parallel park. They end up taking two spots. Cardinal Rule of living in the city, Never take up two parking spaces. Move back to the suburbs with mommy and daddy or learn how to park.
4. I'll already covered extensively Breuger's on S. Aiken, we all know how I feel about that.
5. People in long check-out lines who wait until all the bags are packed up and ready to go, then they search their purse for debit card or check book. ARGGGGGG!!!
6. Restaurants who give me a hard time ordering Grilled Cheese. (Union Grill, Docs, just to name a few. Again, covered this topic in past posts.
7. People who put their kids on their answering machines. You think your kid is a genius. He isn't. It isn't cute, it's annoying. As my mother was fond of saying
"With all the genius kids out there, you have to wonder, where did all the dumb adults come from?"
8. While I'm on the subject, people who think it's their right to bring their children everywhere they go. Esp. dentists office. How, pray tell, do you think you can get dental work done on ones teeth with a 6 month old on your lap. Get the damn father to watch the kids once in a while will ya. We act like we care about how big your children are getting. We see you twice a year. You are patients, not friends (well most of you, if you're my friend, I do care)Most of the time we are just making small talk. We don't actually want to see your kids.
True story. A woman came into the office with three kids the other day. They upset the whole place. Running around, never once being corrected. Someone said to her, "I don't know how you do it". I said loud enough, SHE DOESN'T. She let them run around like monkeys. The two older ones were wrapping dental floss around the baby's neck, I swear. If you have kids, their your responsibility, not mine. Fuck that "It takes a village shit".
9. My kids
10. My kids.
11. Have I mentioned my kids are really, really pissing me off. I've asked Devin, why did he choose a college you can see from our front porch. Couldn't he have found one at least a few miles away, for Christ sake.
12. Danny, a whole other post. He is doing really well in his Anger Management classes, as he's been reminding me. He's saving the handout's for me. What's that they say, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree"?
13. Geeze, I almost forgot the biggest thing that pisses me off. When husbands drop dead in your kitchen after 20 year of marriage. And when they were the only person who would put up with all you and all your craziness, but loved you anyway. And you never even thought of not spending the rest of your life with that man. Not to mention being left alone with two kids.
Yeah, that REALLY pisses me off.
14. The nuts you meet after above husband drops dead......

OTHER STUFF:

I'll be letting off some steam at Mardi Gras' on Thursday drinking Bro-hito's.
Yee-ha.

I'm also going to see Bruce Springstein tomorrow. That DOES NOT make me angry. I am taking my kids with me. I guess I've come full circle. I still cry at Bruce concerts. It is the only time I miss being young. I grew up with Bruce's music. First seeing him in 1973 at St Vincent's college with only 200 people in the audience. I was hooked. I think they will enjoy the concert.
I used to play Bruce really, really loud when I cleaned the house years ago when the kids were little. They used to say "Mom, turn the music down". Boy I should have recorded that phrase. Now the tables are turned.

A truely good person.

Last week I mentioned in my post about Notre Dame a friend and coworker who played on Navy's football team
Funny thing, today as I was reading today's paper, I came across this article about him.

http://www.post-gazette.com/localnews/

Take a minute to read it. He is truly an amazing person. He's a person who actually does things to make this world a better place. Not just talk about it.
And just by being in his presence, you want to be a better person.
Can't think of anyone else who I have NEVER said a bad word about.
This story is just the tip of the iceberg. He has many more that are just as inspiring.
Needless to say, he also travels around the country giving motivational speeches.

I'm sure we'll all be motivational speakers after a few of Jimmy Brose' Mojita's on Thursday!!!
On a lighter note, Click on box to right and the whole post changes to Jive talk while this post isn't the most appropriate to try it on, it's still pretty funny.

Fun Pic from Monday's game, Thanks Mean Joe

One of these things doesn't belong here?

Three of these things belong together
Three of these things are kind of the same
Can you guess which one of these doesn't belong here?
Now it's time to play our game (time to play our game).

Just like the Sesame Street Song says, now it's time to play our game.
I took this picture while attending the Monday night Steelers game.
Can you guess what doesn't belong.
It hit me like a ton of bricks.
IT'S THE GIRL ON THE SIDELINES WITH AN UMBRELLA!
Do you see anyone else in the whole place with an umbrella?
I wish Joe Green would have come out and kicked her ass right off the field.
All's I could think of when I saw her was Tom Hanks in the movie "A League of thier Own". The scene when one of the players starts to cry, Jimmy Dugan exclaims, "There's no crying! There's no crying in baseball!"
Umbrellas, There's no umbrella's in Football
Talk about giving girls a bad rap.
Come on' people, someone should have told her where to put her umbrella.

Seriously, Miss "I am a serious sports reporter, just don't mess up my hair". Sissy la-la girls should stick to fashion reporting.
If you can't run with the big dogs (and get your hair wet), stay on the porch with the puppy's!

Did you guess which thing was not like the others?
Did you guess which thing just doesn't belong?
If you guessed sissy with the umbrella,
Then you're absolutely...right!

Oh well, I guess boy's like that sort of thing. Otherwise she'd be out of a job.

See you all tomorrow: Squirrel Hill Cafe. 8:00.
We are celebrating Otis' Birthday.

My name is Eileen, I'm Irish and I HATE NOTRE DAME, So what.

I HATE NOTRE DAME!!!!!
There, I said it. I've just finished watching Navy-Notre Dame game. 3 OT and Navy finally wins. Ending a 43 year winning streak for the Fighting Irish.
WOO HOO!!
I love it, ESPN says "Even Navy has Notre Dame's number".
It's about time.
Creeps.
The last time Navy beat Notre Dame, Roger Staubach was quarterback, and a former co-worker of mine,Bruce Bickel played for the team. Bruce is probably one of the few truly good people I have met in my life.He's one of the few people in this world who, just by being in their presence makes you want to be a better person. He got quite an education when his office was behind Erin and me. He had many great stories to tell.
I digress, back to the reason the this post.
I HATE NOTRE DAME, and have ever since I can remember.
I know, I know, How can a nice Irish girl like me hate Notre Dame.
I honestly don't know. I've just always hated Notre Dame and all their cockiness.
I remember going there in 1980. It was freshman orientation. I had graduated from Mercyhurst. Ski and I were just cutting through on our way to Chicago.
I don't know what I expected, but I just remember thinking,"What's so great about this?" (Ok besides getting a good education)
As far as looks, I think my good ol' Mercyhurst is prettier.
When I think of Notre Dame, I think of the same Macho-ism that I hated about Central boys.
Oh well, they have been getting their butts kicked all over the place this year and I love every minute of it.
Yeah, I HATE NOTRE DAME.
(Except for Kevin, of course, he doesn't quite fit the mold, we won't mention this blog post to him, OK)
On the other hand, I love the Navel Academy. It's beautiful. It's a little macho, but in a different chivalrous kind of way.
Spent alot of time there in the 70's and early 80's. Even went to a commencement in 1981. It was unbelievable. We used to go the the Army-Navy games in Philly. Great fun.

Oh well. don't know why I felt the need to express this, figured I would while I was on a roll.

On a different note, but still football related. I am going to Monday's Steeler's game.
This is a funny story. (Aren't they all) My friend gave me the tickets. Turns out they are Joe Green's tickets. He is not using them because they are celebrating the 75th Anniversary team and they all have to sit together. So he gave them to my friend, who in turn gave them to me. 10th row, 50 yard line.
Just another example of how crazy life is. Headlines "Dumb girl from Lawrenceville lands Joe Green's season tickets"
Gee, Thanks Mean Joe.

All in all not a bad football day for me.
Pitt wins, BC loses, ND loses. Navy wins.If only Penn State would have lost, oh well, can't have it all.

Coming Attractions: Brose is ready to make us Mojita's again. Thursday, 11/15.
Mark your calendars.
We have to think of somewhere to go this Thursday. Rolands in the strip or Squirrel Hill Cafe?

I lived to tell the tale!

Whew, glad that's over. The flags were lowered during the closing ceremonies and birthday-rama is officially over.
Thank God.
So far, it's been tough being 50.
You know, knees go. Eyes go. Body goes(although that's been gone for quite sometime, I hate to say). It's all downhill from here folks.
Oh well, I guess I better count my blessings, considering the alternative, at least I'm not goin!
I went to a funeral today for a man I have known probably since the second grade He was sick for only 3 months.
He went to Dr. for cough and they told him he had three months to live. Great kids, great family. He was 51.A blast to dance with. Esp. when Mustang Sally came on, I can't count the times we danced to that song over a period of twenty five or thirty years.
Weird, weird thing. After funeral mass, got into my car, you guessed it. Mustang Sally was on the radio. I swear.
I was thinking, wonder how many people in the long line of cars headed to cemetery just happened to be listening to 91.3.
I burst out laughing and could just hear him saying, "Ei, will you just let me lead!!
I seemed to always have a problem letting men lead when dancing. Go figure!
Geeze, just goes to show you, you just never know where your life is going to end up or end for that matter.

Speaking of counting my blessings. Thanks to all my wonderful friends, I really did have a great birthday.
I feel genuinely blessed to have so many caring and thoughtful friends in my life.
So many times on this blog I complain about so many silly things that in the grand scheme of life, don't mean crap.(notice, still on the no swearing thing)
I think having milestone birthdays keeps us in check.
I celebrated with about 80 of my closest friends from all periods of my life.
I truely appreciate all the effort each and everyone made to make my birthday so special.
After this birthday, I promise,I'll certainly be slowing my mustang down!

Speaking of special, tomorrow we are celebrating a special AMG.
Barb is leaving us for OHIO???? Yes, Ohio.
We'll be celebrating her last AMG (sniff, sniff)

She is starting a blog with the perfect title to help us keep track of her escapades.
LIFE IN A FOUR LETTER STATE
Oh, the things she could talk about with a title like that! It could mean so many things.

See you all at Lot 17 Thursday 11/1 @ 8:00.
Remember girls,it is a holy day of oblligation. All Saint's day. Get to mass before the bar!

Note: Before I get 100 e-mails. I started writing this on 10/25 but got too busy and went back to it tonight, 10/31.
So the date on top of this post says 10/25, again, blogger gods, feel free to help me.

One Person's Trash Is Anothers Treasure

Yesterday was trash day in Shadyside.
So I'm starting the morning on my long, long three minute commute to my office. Suddenly I stop dead in my tracks.
This can't be, I'm thinking to myself. Nah, there must be some mistake.
I step back, look again. My eyes are not deceiving me. It's not a mirage.
There it is for all the neighborhood to see. Right there on a sidewalk in Shadyside.
I found evidence that someone else drinks boxes of Cheap Pink.
I know what you're all thinking, this was my garbage. I swear to you all, it wasn't.
This was just too good to keep on walking.
I happened to still have my camera in my purse from Saturday. At the risk of a neighbor looking out of their window and catching me taking pictures of garbage. I take a picture of the evidence.
So there you have it.
There are more of us out there and I have proof.
I will find them and we will bond over glasses of cheap pink.
Maybe we were twins separated at birth. And all this time we were living on the same street.
I can see it now.
Monday on Oprah, tune in for twins who found each other by their garbage.
I'll know it's true if, when we finally meet,they pull the pouch of Cheap pink from their purse.

I'll be drinking Cheap Pink tonight at Elbow Room. I'll be there by 7:00 because I want to watch Mollie on Wheel at 7:30.
See you all tonight!

Me and The Pope, Who'da thunk it???

So, Lucy and Ethel made it back from Italy without incident.Which was no easy feat....
I don't know where to start.
Obviously the highlight being the whole Pope thing. The above pictures gives a little insight on where I was sitting. ON THE ALTER.......
Both pictures are taken from my seat, but the bottom picture puts in perspective where I was sitting. There were about 10,000 people there. The view was unbelievable. I was in the first row at the aisle. On either side of the pope there are chairs, approx 100 on each side. You need special tickets for those seats. We showed our tickets thinking I was maybe in the first section on the floor.
We kept going, going, going. I'm thinking wholy crap, (notice, no swearing here)
I can't believe this, there has to be some mistake.
They keep telling us to keep going up further, further. We get on the alter.
I started to cry, one of many times,thinking, how did I get here? I was sitting on the alter holding my mothers rosary's in my hand just feet from the Pope.
So here is how we got there.
Turns out the man who we had to pick up our tickets from is a seminarian from Pittsburgh. His job is giving out tickets for the papal audiences. Naturally, when he see's a person is from Pittsburgh, they get the best tickets......
Good old Burg connection, never fails.
He was a wonderful person who gave us alot of inside info. Among other things, he is sending me his mother's perogie recipe.
He got a kick out of us. Especially when the pope blesses all the religious stuff. I pull out all my stuff that needs to be blessed in a purple crown royal bag. He just laughed.
Recollections about the trip:
I had two major problems, (1) having trouble leaving one place on time to meet tour group at specified time. Example, in Assisi, our guide was going to leave without me while I was deciding what ceramic plate to buy. Ski had to beg him to wait. Same with the Catacombs, the guide had to come find us. I just couldn't pull myself away.
(2) I could not, for the life of me, sleep. Poor Ski, I kept waking her up by my pacing. Don't know if if was the excitment of being there, or what. But when I laid in bed, I could see St. Peter's Basilica. (FROM MY BED) I just didn't want to close my eyes.
Finally one night I just passed out from sheer exaustion.
The shopping and food were awsome also.
We went into this little botique and this georgous man was waiting on us. He was the kind of cute that talked me into buying a $200.00 scarf cute. I caught myself just in time though. Ski wasn't so lucky. Turns out he was on the soap opera "Bold and the Beautiful". He was Macy's Italian husband.
Funny.
I'll leave the story about going to confession at St. Peters for another time.
I've been to more churches in the past few weeks, I think I am glowing from the halo.
I know, I know.....
Since we already had a special AMG last night, we can have a mini one this Thursday.
If anyone still wants to go out, I'll just be at the Mardi Gras for a while. Whoever wants to, we can meet up there. After 7:30.
Also Ginny Ann suggested we go to her house next Thursday to watch Wheel of Fortune.
More detail will follow.
Hopefully see you all on Saturday. It will be fun.

I'd like to buy a vowel please.

Exciting news. My niece, Mollie Devinney is going to be on Wheel of Fortune next Thursday, October 25. She went to California to tape last week. She won't tell anyone if she won or not, so we all have to tune in.

Maybe we can all meet for AMG a little earlier next week and watch somewhere.
Any ideas on where to go?

We are meeting Tonight for the BIG 50 dinner. All are welcome. Il Valetto on Forbes. (like my hips didn't have enough pasta last week!!!)
7:30. BYOB

Promise a fun post on the details of my trip soon. Just been too tired to finish it.

Anger Management Without the Mayor????

Hmmm, so Karen(who needs Eileen, we can finally go where I want)Bowman decided she will take over my job next week and be ACTING mayor of AMG. Yeah, right. We'll see.
SHE decided you guys are going to go to Goosky's on Herron Ave on Polish Hill.
Or was is Gaffney's on Penn Ave. Or maybe she said Nieds, on Butler Street.
Guess we'll never know.......
I wonder if she would jump in my grave that fast????

Only joking. Do whatever you want. I will be in lovely Rome while you guys are drinking beer on Polish hill.
Have fun and as the song says "Please don't talk about me when I'm gone."
Goosky's on Herron Ave.
The place is not much to look at, but they have great Polish food which I'm sure the"Real Pope" would have loved.

Remember, Tuesday, Oct. 16. Special 50 Birthday Edition of Anger Management.
Cafe Roma, 7:00.
Enter (God forbid if you can) in the comments section if you are attending so I can make reservations.

Arrivederci, Baby!

All things Italian are going through my mind. Including movies.
Since I am counting down the days I will be in beautiful Italy, (which, by the way, I would rather be counting down the days I am headed to Ireland, but that's a whole other story.)
Wonder which of the following scenario's will play out????
Let's start with the Tony Curtis movie "Arrivederci, Baby!"
So in this movie, Tony Curtis plays a rich playboy who charms rich widows, marries them, kills them and then spends all their money. He finally meets one that is the female version of himself, mistaking him for a rich widower. They both get what they deserve.
If you read this blog, you know me, so you all know my mother must have skipped the Dr. appt. when they give baby Irish girls the Luck of the Irish thing.
I am known for having a disproportionate amount of bad luck. So this would be my luck, I'd meet someone who wants me for my money. I'd want him for his money and neither of us has any.
Scratch that.
The only person who thinks I'm a rich widow is Kathy's daughter Cailey.
I'm not fooling anyone there.
Ok, next we have Roman Holiday, with the lovely Audrey Hepburn.
In this movie, The endlessly charming Hepburn plays a European princess on an official tour through Rome. Frustrated by her lack of connection to the real world, she slips away from her protective handlers and goes on a spree, aided by a tough-guy news reporter (Gregory Peck).
In any ones wildest dreams, I could never pass for a princess, let alone one who attracts the attention of someone like Gregory Peck.
Scratch that.
Then there's"Three Coins in a Fountain"
The plot, standard soap opera fare. Three young and single American women are employed as secretaries in Rome.
Ok, has potential, so there are four of us and we are not secretaries and we are not young.
Of course, all three find romance, not to mention ever-changing wardrobes and lavish living accommodations. In 1954, secretaries must have made a bundle in Italy !
I can dream can't I? After all, we are staying across the street from Trevi Fountain.
Ok, ok, I'll move on.
Rome Adventure
Starring Troy Donahue and Angie Dickinson, (well before Police Woman Fame)
Prudence resigns from her teaching position after being criticized for giving a student her copy of a romance novel. She sails for Italy, takes a job at a small bookstore in Rome, and meets Don, who has just broken up with his girlfriend. Prudence and Don tour Italy together, and romance naturally follows.
We're getting close. When I started working for the FBI in 1978, Police Woman was a hit series. My friends used to call me "Pepper", just to make fun of me, of course.
Ok, so that's stretching it, I'll move on.
Il Postino
The life of a fisherman, Mario changes dramatically when a famous Chilean writer settles on his little Italian island. Living in exile because of his political beliefs, Neruda needs a postman to deliver the huge quantities of mail sent to him by his admirers and Mario takes the job since he hates fishing anyway. The two become friends and Neruda helps the shy and clumsy Mario to win the heart of Beatrice, the beautiful waitress at the village's inn, by showing him the beauty and power of poetry.
Well, it could be changed to a story about a girl who writes blogs..........
Ok, here's what's really going to happen. I've saved the best for last
"Under the Tuscan Sun"
Frances's(Diane Lane) seemingly happy San Francisco marriage ends abruptly, she goes into a funk. Urged by her friends to move on, she joins a bus tour of Tuscany where, on the spur of the moment, she buys a crumbling villa. She assembles a crew of oddballs and immigrants to repair the house; Although life gets in the way of love, Frances's wishes come true in unexpected ways, and there's always the Tuscan Sun.
Yeah, that's is, that my friends, is the scenario I am envisioning.
I can dream, can't I.
Ireland and Maureen O'Hara marrying John Wayne will just have to wait a few years.
I'm going to find my "Quiet Man" in Rome.
Yeah, right!!!!!

Thursday we will be celebrating two things.
My leaving for Italy (Which means no AMG next weeks)
We will also be celebrating Ginny Ann's Birthday.Yes, someone else is having a birthday!
Arrivederci, baby!!!!
See you all Thursday around 8.

Notes:
We will be celebrating a special Tuesday edition of AMG on 10/16. It is my big 50 and we are going to Cafe Roma on 4770 Liberty Ave. It's BYOB.
The food is great, but it is not very big so we need to make reservations.
Let me know who all wants to come and I will make reservations.
Also, Birthday-Rama will continue on Saturday, 10/20 at Hambones. The official Birthday party. More info to follow on that.

How 'bout we talk a little about my day today. OK, I spent the better part of the day (I honestly don't know where to start)trying to straighten out one of our patients dental insurance.
I'm not complaining here folks, most of the time I love this job and the people who come with it. And lets face it, I'm not killing myself.
Then there is Dr. Dajit (name changed to protect myself from getting sued, that whole HIPPA thing.)
Dr. Dajit is a 75 year old retired Indian heart surgeon who took a liking to me. I wouldn't say a liking, maybe trust is the correct word. I am the only person in the office who he will talk to. He even calls me when he needs a ride and I go pick him up at his million dollar home.
I have to come clean, I am a closet nice person. I don't want this to get out. I CAN be nice if I want to. Problem is, I don't want to that often.
We have another patient who is blind and she would call and ask if someone can meet her down the street to guide her in. Well one thing led to another, now I pick her up at her home and back. Then she started calling me on my days off to take her to her Dr. appts. (On Friday mornings, no less)
Everyone at work calls me a sucker and laughs at me. But Me, I'm afraid if I say no, I am going to go to hell when I die. (I might be headed there anyway, but if it comes to going either way, this might swing the vote upward.) I need all the help I can get.
So I spent hours talking to the American Medical Association about Dr.Dajit's insurance, or lack thereof. This is not my job by the way.
Which leads me to my gripe of the week. I can't believe the people who come in this office and don't know what kind of insurance they have. This amazes me. Really. Pay attention folks.
I am dying to say to someone, ok then, don't know what insurance you have, then you pay out of pocket.
I spend hours on the computer looking up different insurance companies for assholes who don't pay attention, or don't read info when they get hired. THIS IS NOT WHAT I AM PAID TO DO. I can't fight for you and get things covered that initially were rejected if you do not know what friggin insurance you have.You are adults, and it is not up to me to find out what insurance you have.
Now insurance companies, they are the ones who should have trouble sleeping at night.
Thieves.
Oh well, I will get my reward in heaven. I hope. Plus I'll get extra points from the Pope next week. My new BFF.
Where to go tomorrow. I don't know. Let me think about it for a while. Any ideas?

How about Silky's on Liberty Ave.
around 8:00

I AM NOT ANGRY.

Today I am not angry. Really, I'm not. A little nervous about a few things, but for once, not angry. What a difference a week makes. People say that all the time, "What a difference a day makes". How true.
I hate to rub it in. But I am starting the countdown to my trip. Wow! is all I can say when I looked up the hotel.Here is the link, check it out.
http://www.parcodeiprincipi.com/en/main.php?content=ospitalita

To quote the Hotel's web site: The terraces of the Parco dei Principi offer one of the most thrilling panoramas of the gardens of Villa Borghese and the city of Rome. Anyone who wants to go higher will have to take a balloon.

We are right by the Spanish Steps.
We are also going to Positano and the Almafi Coast. Positano is where they filmed the movie "Under the Tuscan Sun".
I keep waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me.
And then the whole Pope thing. How that shy,dumb girl in the nun outfit below ends up in a place like this I'll never know??? Maybe I should ask the Pope, doesn't he know it all?
I am trying to think of a word to use. I think Humbling is one that comes to mind.
OK, enough.
I just got angry about something, could someone ask the "Blogger Gods" (To quote SAM) how to put those little lines under a word and you just click on it and it brings you right on the web page you want. Also I just spent the better part of an hour trying to flip the order of the pictures shown above. I wanted to have the hotel pic first and the view from the terrace under the quote. I give up, you get the point.
This week we are going to good old Elbow Room. I will be there around 7 if anyone feels the need to come a little early. I, for one, have been in all week and and getting the hell out of here early!!!!
A Domani
(You all see what I do to the English language, can you imagine what I'll do to the Italian language, excl

Save the date: 10/20....50th BD Party. More info to follow.

I'm not in the mood today to write anything funny. Or write anything for that matter. I am not angry. I'm pretty much not much of anything.(Wow, what a grammatically incorrect sentence) So I was going to just post where we are going tomorrow and be done.
Yeah, right. I always feel the need to babble on and it leads to my finding something to write about by the first three sentences.
How about the start of fall? Last night was perfect. I love fall. I love everything about it.
But with the coming of fall, it also brings about a certain sadness in me. I still get the itch to go somewhere or move on in September. Change, I guess, as in the seasons.
Looking back, alot of changes in my life have happened in the fall.
I remember the anticipation and excitement of going back to college every September.
I moved to Washington DC that following September after graduation.
I got married in September. This Saturday would have been my Silver wedding anniversary.
Instead of planning a party where I get all the tacky silver stuff with 25 on them, I'll probably be sitting in the Mardi Gras or Hambones or someplace similar being my miserable old self. I am sad. No,not really sad, melancholy is more like it.
Oh well, maybe I wouldn't be so miserable if I used my time more productively, like taking a writing class so my blog posts wouldn't be so painful for English majors to read. Do I have any English major readers? Don't know about that one, but you guys know what I mean.

How about tomorrow we go to Kaya in the strip? Karen wanted to try that out.
2000 Smallman Street (20th and Smallman Street)
Tomorrow is the Jewish New Year, so if that's a problem for too many of us not making it, we can go elsewhere and save that for another day.

Sorry to be boring, My friend Andy told me to get off the religious and mother stuff and get back to writing about drinking and sex (As if!!). Hopefully I'll have a fun weekend and have something more exciting to write about next week. But I wouldn't count on it.
As for all that silver I missed out on getting. At least I won't have to polish it for the rest of my life.
Ski says that when you get invited to a wedding and you don't really like the person (Goofy relative or someone) Always buy them something silver, because then they have to spend the rest of their lives polishing it or it looks like shit. Only Ski would think like that!!!!
Below is a picture of my husband, circa 1994. If you never knew him, this captures his spirit perfectly. Making the hysterical face he made while dancing, prepped out in yellow pants (he uncharacteristically had his tie off;a plaid Brooks Brothers, of course)and dancing like a wild man.
That's what we would be doing this weekend if life didn't throw us a curve ball.



See LaVerne, I wrote a whole post and didn't feel the need to mention your underwear or white stretch pants once.

See you all tomorrow around 8. Call me if anyone needs a ride.

Sister Mary Eileen

In keeping with the church theme of last week's post, I thought the above picture would be appropriate for this week. (Beings I'm going out Italy soon)
Sister Mary Eileen is the one on top.
I know, I know, quit laughing, pretty pathetic huh?
Funny story.
This is my best friend Maryann Usselman and me circa 1964.
We used to dress like this to play school. The few boys who read this blog probably won't relate, but didn't all girls play school in the summers? Of course very few of you probably took it to the limit and did the whole nun thing, but what can I say, I never do anything half ass.
This was smack dab in the middle of Vatican II, so that explains the different nun habits. I, being the proper catholic girl that I am, insisted on having the old habit, and MaryAnn was the more progressive of the two.
Can you believe we used to walk around the neighborhood like this?
What a wierdo I was.
OK, the best part, and unfortunately the one part I don't have a picture of, is when my cousin (who was a neighbor) played school, they used a neighbor boy to be the priest.
We all used to play mass. (Which was part of school in those days)
He used a frying pan (Because they didn't have a host or challis) to lift up during the Eucharistic Prayer. He also used those flying saucer candies as communion.
I think he actually became a priest, but I have to ask Mary Alice, so don't quote me on that.
Picture this folks, a neighborhood full of kids in a backyard in the "Hood" WATCHING A KID RAISE UP A FRYING PAN. With the girls dressed up like nuns.We took this quite seriously I might add.
I could go on and on, but I am pressed for time today.

Next, how about the backyard? Talk about the ghetto.
My God. I never thought of us as being poor, but looking at this picture, it's safe to say, yes we were poor.
As my mother would say, "Would you look at the cut of Hogan's Alley?" Never quite knew what she meant by that, probably some line from an old movie.
Speaking of back yards, this week's Anger Management is going to be in my backyard. No, not the one in the picture.
I've come along way since 42nd street.

I am making Sangria and chicken salad.
See you all tomorrow around 8 on Alder Street.
Too bad the nun outfit doesn't fit anymore. I'm sure it could fulfill someones fantasy.

The Pope Episode

As the pope writes on his "Blog to God", I am sure he is saying something like "Blessed father, what did I do to deserve this? I know I promised to serve you and that you are a forgiving God, but really, Ski and Eileen? You are letting them loose in Rome and I have to meet with them. On their 50th Birthday's no less. Ok, Ok God, everyone has their cross to bear, this can be mine. Hail Mary full of Grace...........Hail Mary Full of Grace.......Hail Mary Full of Grace.....
Yes, Lucy and Ethel are going on the road again.In a few weeks, we are headed to Rome to celebrate our 50th Birthdays.
So in keeping with that theme, why don't we go to Church Brew Works this Thursday to ease us into the church thing. They have a great outdoor deck.
As Ski (Lucy) can attest to, we have had quite a few adventures in our lifetime. Just like the real Lucy and Ethel, it seems like everything we do turns into "An episode".
Just to name a few:
The Innagural Ball Episode
We went to Bill Clinton's inagural ball with Ski in a $10.00 dress from Gabe's and me in an old Bridesmaids dress of my sisters. We had 20 minutes to find something to wear and get going. We pulled up in an old minivan with Cheerio's all over the floor. (We drove down with all the kids and they trashed the car). Everyone else pulled up in limos. Someone gave us free champagne with the presidential seal on all bottles. We dragged them back to the minivan in a garbage bag.
The Brad and Angelina Episode
While staying at the Waldorf in New York, Brad and Angelina were staying a floor above us. Ski (Lucy) was smoking in the stairwell when who comes sneaking down the steps but Angelina and her baby. Ski corners her for a few minutes and she continues on her trek down the back stairway, certain that the nutcase smoking in the stairwell is going to turn her into the press. Lucy did not. But we did sit outside their door and listen to them put their kids to bed, loosers that we are.

Note: The person who told her to smoke in the stairwell was standing guard for the person in the next room. That person was the Secretary-General of the United Nations. By the end of the weekend, Lucy was refering to the guard as "her guard Felix". Hopefully, he had a job after we left.

I could write a book of our episodes, but the point I wanted to make here is, given our track record, someone should warn the Pope. When we have our audience with him, something crazy is sure to happen.

Stay tuned for The Pope Episode.

See you all in church.

Church Brew Works

38th and Liberty Avenue

8:00.

Field Trip Pictures

I am going to let these pictures speak for themselves, any narration from me will not do them justice. I guess my mother was right about the ballarina thing. I don't think the ballet will invite us back anytime soon, right grasshoppers?
Double click on Pics to make them bigger.
OK One comment, how about Erin's expression at Kathy's cartwheel? Funny









No comments:

I coulda been a ballerina!!

In reference to my blog post dated May 16. Surprise, surprise, Joe Hardy is getting a divorce. I guess now the poor ex-Mrs. Hardy has to go back on her parents health insurance.
http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07234/811209-100.stm
Don't get too excited girls, we're way, way too old for him.
Oh well, not to beat a dead horse, everyone knows how I feel about this subject.

On a totally different note, how about we go to the ballet at Hartwood Acres tomorrow for Anger management.
How, you may ask yourself could this possibly relate to anger management?
Glad you asked.
If you've read this blog regularly, I vent anger toward lots of people and things.
Rarely have I talked about anything my late, great mother did to piss me off. I don't think she really did too many things to make me mad. Mostly she made me laugh.
My family and friends have a lifetime of jokes because of her. She was the original Lucy.
Every once in a while, my sister (The Madonna)will call me laughing because we catch ourselves saying some of the sayings we thought were so stupid.
We turned into our mother.(Except the polish part, of course) She was a quarter Polish. Ok, there I admitted it. Her response to anything bad we did, or any bad habit we had was "That's the Polish in you". Sorry to Ski and my polish friends.
Anyway, back to the thing I am mad at her for.
She never made me take ballet lessons, hell, she never even suggested I take them.
She wasn't one of those parents that made her kids do all kind of stuff they would thank them for as adults.
We weren't allowed to do anything for God's sake. I asked to take piano lessons, her response, "no, get outside and play with your cousins", girl scouts? "no, get outside and play with your cousins". Ballet? you guessed it, "get outside and play with your cousins". Her and her sister even discouraged us even from playing with other kids. There were seven of us and that was enough.
I WANTED TO BE A BALLERINA MOM.
It's all her fault. She would answer something to this effect "Yeah, and I was the one on the grassy knoll also"
But I really, really wanted to take ballet lessons. Any other mother would have loved the fact that they didn't have to drag their daughters. Not good ol' Harriet.
Thinking I was scarred for life, I go on with my life.
I grow up and go off to college. Imagine my surprise when I realize Mercyhurst has an unbelievable dance program.
I didn't fool myself, these girls and boys have been dancing all of their lives, no chance of me starting this late in life. But then I find out they have intro to ballet classes. (Don't laugh, remember, at one time in my life I did have the body of a ballerina. I DID)
This is for me, I thought. I sign up. Let my hair grow so I can wear it in a bun like all the other ballerina's, buy my leotard and wear it with a jean skirt and clogs on class days. I was in ballerina heaven.
At least until my mother got the bill for the semester and she found out what I was taking in college. Let's just say it didn't go over real well. Even when my grades came in the mail and I got an A. (I knew I should have been a balarina I remember saying)
Thinking back, I think she handled it better than when she got the bill for Intro to Wine Tasting.

So being a ballet lover, this week the Anger Management Group is going to Hartwood Acres for the ballet tomorrow.
If you want to go, we are going to meet between 6:30 and 6:45 at Hambones. That way we can car pool and leave some cars in the lot. We will be heading there after also, if you don't want to go to the ballet but want to come out later.
The ballet starts at 7:30. If you want to go straight there, just call when you get there and I will tell you where we are sitting. We usually sit to the right of the stage.
I will bring munchies, feel free to bring a bottle of wine or whatever you want to drink. Also bring a chair of blanket to sit on
See you all tomorrow for some culture 'nat.

Facebook? Oh, I thought they meant Face Lift.

So yesterday I am reading the new issue of Newsweek. There is an article about the 23 year old boy who started Facebook. Being over 25, obviously I know nothing about Facebook. So I read the article. My first thought is, damn, why didn't I give birth to that boy?
Second, being the "Neb-nose" that I am. I check it out. "Grey Squirrel" hops into action.
First I go on web site. They make me register. I try to put some fake name in and it doesn't work. I have to put a real e-mail address to confirm. So I reluctantly do so. I get the expected confirmation e-mail.
I look around the site and suddenly this page pops up and says I have five friends already on Facebook. What? How do they know who my friends are?
Then my whole e-mail address book pops up and asks if I want to invite these people to be my friends.
Let me say that some people in my address book haven't heard from me in quite some time, or just e-mailed once or twice a few years ago. (I'm one of those people who keep everything, even junk e-mails for some odd reason).
Now I am stuck, thinking to myself, dear God I hope they don't automatically send invites to everyone on my address book to be my friend. How in the hell do I get out of this thing.
So I just X out of web site and go about my business.
This morning I check e-mail and I get about three e-mails from facebook. One says Ali has written on your wall. The other says Liz has written on your wall.
So I sign on to see what this wall is all about.
There is a message from my 18 year old niece Ali, and I quote "Ha haha i cant believe you got a facebook! hahaha.I wrote back saying I didn't think I got a facebook, whatever that is, I was just being my "nebby" self.
But at least she accepted me as her friend.(whew, it would be pretty bad if my niece refused)_
So, now I am trying to figure out if everyone got invites to be my friend, or is it just the people that are already on facebook that happen to be in my address book? I'm confused. As would anyone over 30 would be. Having kid's in their 20's (unfortunately not the inventors of anything)I am sure they keep us confused on purpose.
Some of my friends would maybe think they meant to send an invite for a "FACE LIFT".
If they sent invites to my whole address book,I apologize, but I would love to see my old friend Bernie's face when they invite him to be my friend!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm sure he will "politely decline".

A few notes:
Casualty report from those who drank Jimmy Bros' Mojito's at the Gras last Thursday:
Three of us did not make it to work the next day, you know who you are. (It would have been four if I had to work Friday)
I went to Breugger's twice last week without incident.

This week's AMG:
Lot 17 on Liberty Ave.
See you all around 8.
Call me if you want to meet earlier.
Speaking of Face lifts, did anyone notice the face lift that I gave our blog?
We have to pick a day and time when we can all get in the picture. So many of the regulars are missing from the one I put on here, but it's the only one I had.
Sorry to those of you missing. We'll get it right.

I am not an idiot, am I????/

First ,let me say I am not an idiot, not a Mensa either, but certainly not a complete idiot. (Even though I might act like one sometimes.)
Well I certainly felt like one tonight. This will go down there with one of the more idiotic things I‘ve done in my life. Some of which you will hear about in this post.
As you all know, in the beginning of June I purchased a new laptop computer to replace the one that was stolen from me when my house was burglarized. I was excited and couldn't wait to return to writing blog posts on Saturday afternoons on my couch.
My excitement was short-lived.
I couldn’t get the Internet to work after about a week.
It kept telling me it couldn’t find a network, even when I went to one of those wifi places. When I went to one of them, I met a really nice man who even looked up my computers operating manual on his computer and helped me for over an hour. He must have been really desperate; he then asked me out and gave me his card in case I changed my mind. Even if he was a little “Off”, he seemed to know what he was doing on the computer.
Anyway, I decided to take it back. It was then I encountered my first problem, I lost my receipt.
I know, I know, I should have a file for large purchases, I do…… but can’t find it. It’s in that all encompassing “Important Papers File”. Which I can never find. It’s in there with my kids birth certificates, all 10 of them. I keep having to pay to get new ones printed because, you guessed it, can’t find file when I need it.
I first took it back to Office Depot and asked them to look at it. They informed me my Internet card was bad and when I find my receipt, bring it back and they will replace the whole computer.
I called some 800 number and talked to requisite Indian on duty. Dajit told me they would e-mail me receipt in 4-5 working days.
Fast forward 1.5 weeks. Still no receipt.
Call Dajit Back. Strangely they tell me they have never talked to me. They have no record whatsoever of my call. I give them the info again. This time it takes 25 minutes. I am getting a little annoyed. Another 1.5 weeks, no e-mail.
Call Dajit back, you guessed it, no record of my call.
I am pissed.
Long story short, after a few more long calls, and 7 weeks, I finally get a manager at Office Depot that tells me to just bring the computer to him by 9:00 tonight and he will just give me a new computer.
I go to Office Depot tonight with computer in hand. I see John the manager, he tells me to go see Brad and he will help me.
When I see Brad, I immediately wish I was 22. What a cutie. He informs me he knows my whole problem and plugs in my computer just to check it. I just stare, He’s probably thinking, “Oh great, just what I need, another crazy old lady telling me about her beautiful daughter or niece.”
Then he tries to get into the Internet. He gets right on. He tells me there really isn’t a problem. I ask him what he did.
You know what he did????HE TURNED IT ON……..
Oh my God, I am thinking, I really can’t be this stupid.
But I am. That’s all that was the matter. IT WASN”T TURNED ON.
We laughed and laughed, I told him to promise not to tell anyone. He assures me he won’t. I pleaded, “Please, I said, don’t talk about me in your break room”
We both walk out of the door. His coworker was standing by the door. I was opening my car door when I saw his co-worker double over. I ran back over and laughingly told him he promised not to laugh at me and he didn’t even wait until I got in my car. He could have at least waited until I pulled out for God’s sake.
Geeze, If I was only 22. I remember always wondering why the smartest, cutest guys always fell for the dumbest girls. (I figured it out)
I could have batted my eyes. Sached around. We might have gotten married.
If Only…….
Know what’s really funny. At work I am considered the computer expert. Whenever there is a problem, they come to me to figure it out. I guess I fooled them. Hopefully they don’t read this blog……
This got me thinking about other really, really dumb things I have done in life. Thought you all might enjoy hearing about a few. Why not, I already made an ass out of myself.
• One time my dryer was making a very large clinking noise, I stopped using it and hung clothes to dry because we couldn’t afford to buy another one. A year later, we were moving and I asked the movers to carry the dryer out to the curb for the garbage. Three quarters fell out the back of the dryer. Turns out there was nothing wrong with the dryer, only some quarters that fell out of someone’s pocket.
• My mother made the mistake of never letting us help in the kitchen. We weren’t allowed to even turn a burner on. Having said that, when my oven wouldn’t work right after getting married, I just used crock pots and electric frying pans to cook for about 6 months before someone mentioned the pilot light in the oven might need to be lit. It did. And worked just fine for fifteen or so years.
Is anyone seeing a pattern here?
• I hitched-hiked with Larry Law on a regular basis back and forth to Philly to see Ski during college. He convinced me we didn’t need more than one change of clothes; clothes took up too much precious room in our duffel bag. We needed all the extra room for beer. All of you who know Larry, know how stupid we were.
• This story is too long for this, but certainly deserves a mention. One time I was in a wedding and my best friend picked up my date. (A pattern that seems to have followed me most of my life)
Having no ride home, I flagged down a police van and rode to my parent's home in the back of a paddy wagon. Informing them through the little window that the drunken girl with no shoes, still in my bridesmaid’s gown, flowers still in hand, worked for the FBI. They asked me what I did for the FBI and me being as stupid as I was, told them the truth. At the time I worked in the Civil Rights Division prosecuting Police Officers. Not something you want to tell the police driving you home at five in the morning.
I could go on and on, but you guys get the gist of it. This is only a small sampling, most of the really, really dumb things I have done im my life isn’t fit for printing.
I am back from vacation up the lake. There is a funny story to go with that for next week’s blog. This week’s is long enough. Don’t want to bore you guys too much.

I was talking with Broz and telling him how much I misses his Mojita's. He said maybe one of these weeks he will make Mojita's for AMG at Mardi Gras. I'll remind him and see what Thursday works for him.
How about Cappy's this Thursday.
8:00.




.

I swear on my mother's grave the following is a true story. The names won't even be changed to protect the innocent......
I had the tables turned on me this past Thursday.
Being the lazy ass that I am, I decided on Thursday to go to a beauty shop and get my hair washed and blown dry. It's getting long and I just didn't feel like doing it. I know, I know, the height of laziness. Or I was thinking, maybe it's time for me to turn into one of those old ladies who goes to the hairdresser once a week. (like my mother, God rest her soul, or anyone else of her generation for that matter)
Anyway, I usually get my haircut at Jeffrey's in Lawrenceville and he is a little on the pricey side, so I thought I'll just go to one of those cheap places, after all, they are just washing and drying my hair.
So I walk into Supercuts on Highland Ave. My son had been there earlier in the day and his hair looked alright.
This young boy washed my hair. As he was blowdrying it, he was using a COMB. Yes, a comb. I am thinking, why is he using a comb?
But I let him go. He gets half way through drying my hair and I look like some crazy person (keep comments to oneself, thank you)
Then he proceeds to start spiking my hair with some spray shit.
Now, you all know me, I am a fat, 50 year old conservative dressing white lady , why would I want some hoochie momma hairdo.
So I stop him and say, "You know, this just isn't how I wear my hair, and not what I wanted"
He says"You need products in your hair, everyone needs products"
I say, I don't want crap in my hair. (Just in case anyone wanted to run their fingers through it, yeah, right)
He then throws the COMB down. Just then another stylist comes over and ask's what the problem is. He starts yelling. Yes, yelling.
By then he is telling her to ask me what MY problem is.
Then he gets in my face and asks ME what my problem is.
MY PROBLEM???
Yes, I have lots of problems, but this wasn't one of them. Not by a long shot.
He keeps it up.
I am not one to get intimidated easily. Only one person on this earth turns me into a sissy-la-la, and it wasn't him.
Finally, I turn to the other stylists and say "You better get him away from me"
He keeps it up and keeps it up.
Finally, the other stylists had to throw him out of the salon.
As she finished my hair,(Which, by the way, she did a great job) he was outside pacing back and forth.
I was a little afraid to leave the building. Can you believe it?
Me, afraid.
She assured me I would be fine.
I left with the manager and owners phone numbers.
The manager called me back the next day and in the understatment of the century called him unprofessional.
Unprofessional?
How about criminal lady.
She said it would not be taken lightly and she would let me know what happens.
I have yet to hear from her.
I just wonder, what the problem was? I was paying him to dry my hair as I wanted it done. He was not paying me to be there.
That's a whole other subject. Young people in the service industry. They just don't get that people pay them for services and if they don't get customers, the place usually closes and they no longer have a job.
This incident really spooked me. I don't think I conveyed what a nut this guy was.
The whole beauty shop thing got me thinking about my mother. I could have been lying in Zalewski's Funeral Home and she still would not have missed her Friday 10:00 am hair appointment at Ruth and Fran's on Butler Street.
Half of it was worring that someone would see her with her hair "A Mess". The other half of it would be that she missed out on the gossip of the week.
She would come home with all sorts of info that "They" said down the beauty shop. I never did find out who "They" were. But "They" knew all. She would have had a field day telling them about how I was treated last week at the "Beauty Parlor"
I am sure "They" never would have treated a customer like that!!!

Not to change the subject, but wait till you hear this:
We now have a southern chapter of AMG.
My friend Ruth, who was in town for last week's AMG has started a southern chapter. They even have a blog n'aht.
Here is the link if you guys want to check it out.
http://southernangermanagement.blogspot.com/


Hmm, where to go this week? Any ideas?