Good Riddance to Bad Rubbish

Or Happy New Year.
I'm not a New Years Eve person. Stayed in most years. Met my husband one New Years Eve. I used to joke with him that I should have stayed home that year too. By the next New Years, we were married.
Through the years, we just enjoyed being home and inviting all of our friends over who didn't have baby sitters. Some years we had a house full, the next it would be just us. Both were ok with me.

2009 was not one of my favorite years. Come to think of it, 2000-09 was not my favorite decade. 2000 started out great. Our whole family went to Firstnight to ring in the new millennium. We had a blast. But then things started falling fast. My mom died that January, 2000. 9/11, Dan dying in 2003.....life as I knew it was over. The list could go on and on. I'll spare you most of the details.
But as my mother used to say, as bad as you think you have it, someone always has it worse. Reading this in this mornings paper makes me realize that. I have been reading Amy's blog for a while now. Words cannot express what this woman must be going through. So I better quit complaining.

But I'm putting my hope in the new decade.
Let's hope it gets better. (can't imagine it getting much worse!)
HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Merry Christmas

So every year my father and his brothers and sisters tell the same Christmas story.
I thought I'd share it with you all.

My father had 7 brothers and sisters. His father died when his youngest sister Patsy was five days old. Leaving my Grandmother to raise the seven of them herself. She did a pretty incredible job considering there was no welfare, food stamps, wic, etc. So she started writing numbers for a living. But hey, when she died, she had a home in O'Hara township. (Apparently bought by hitting on the Easter number, 136. But that's a whole other story!)
Anyway, those early years were pretty rough to say the least. They lived across the street from St. Francis Hospital and were fed by the nuns with leftover food from the patients cafeteria.

Needless to say, my grandmother didn't have any money to buy them anything for Christmas. So being the genius that she was, she told them that if they didn't get everything they wanted for Christmas, is was because Santa is hard of hearing and probably didn't hear what they were saying.

Don't you love it?

On this particular Christmas morning they all woke up and ran down the stairs to see what Santa left them for Christmas. Of course all they got was the usual apple or orange. That's it.
My six or seven year old Uncle Paul (God rest his soul) looked at my Gram and said "God damn son of a bitch must have been stone deaf. I didn't get a God damn thing I asked for!"

Merry Christmas. Here's hoping your Santa isn't hard of hearing!!

*Picture below is The Madonna and Me on Santa's lap around 1960(I'm the little one). Our Santa was NEVER hard of hearing!

Buddy, Can You Spare A Few Hundred Thousand?

I'm so pissed I can't even see straight.
First let me say that I like the Superintendent of Pittsburgh Public Schools, Mark Roosevelt. I think he is doing a fine job.
BUT I am seeing red after reading this article in the Post Gazette.
So Pittsburgh philanthropic community is helping pay poor Mark Roosevelt's tax bill???
Here is a man who went to Harvard. He is Teddy Roosevelt's grandson. He makes $227,000 per year plus who knows how much in bonus'.

Excuse me, but I am having trouble paying my taxes. Shit, I never even thought to call the Hillman's, Scaif's, Mellon's, etc. Or even the Roosevelt's for that matter. Stupid me.

And just think, last week I went to a fund raiser to benefit Lawrenceville Library which was on the chopping block to be closed because they can't find funding.
I spent my hard earned money because they are pretty desperate.

Does anyone out there have a few extra dollars on their access card so that poor Mr. Roosevelt can maybe buy a can of soup of something. Wouldn't want him to go hungry now, would we?

I'm not even going to mention the fact that the premium on his life insurance is over $28,000 per year? WTF????

Am I missing something here?
If I am, please feel free to enlighten me.

New York Times

I'm in a New York state of mind!!!!
Counting the minutes, hours, days until I'm ordering room service from our suite,yes suite, at the Plaza!!!
Yes, I will be there with my payless shoes and half price jeans.
I am so ready to get the hell out of town this weekend.
It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that today my boss had a birthday party complete with cupcakes for his dog. Yes, the dog. My birthday wasn't acknowledged BTW. Not even with an empty card.
But while in New York this weekend I will spend the better part of the afternoon shopping for his Christmas present. Again. Putting in more than my $hare because I always go over budget.
Sad part is, if I didn't do it. He wouldn't get a present. No one cares enough to go out of their way. Even a little.
Buuuutttttt, they get presents. And cards. And cupcakes on their Birthdays. (That I usually run around getting)

Bitter......Party of One.

That's Ok.
Because I'm not angry.....no I'm not. Actually he is fun to buy presents for.
It will be all forgotten.
Once I am at the Plaza!!!
Eating breakfast.
In this bed!!!!

Nope, not bitter at all!
Sadly, it will all go by faster than a New York Minute.

Another One Bites The Dust

You knew the picture was coming didn't you. Sooner or later, a photo or Tiger and the wife was going to be photo shopped as above.

Here's the thing. I don't really care about Tiger cheating on his wife. I really don't.

But if it was me? Let me tell you something, I hope she took a club that he had framed or bronzed and hanging on a wall somewhere in their house and smacked the shit out of him and his escalade.

Comeon' Tiger. What the fuck are you thinking? You're not thinking, that's the problem.

What's wrong with these men who have it all plus a beautiful, smart wife and children? Why do they feel the need to pick up sleazy cocktail waitress'. (NO, as a former cocktail waitress, they are not ALL sleazy)

Just stay single for Christ's sake and you are free to pick up every waitress from Twain to Seattle!!

As for Tiger's wife. You go girl. Next time, knock a few teeth out too. After you melt down his most prized golf clubs of course!

Oh, and one more thing. Next time a police officer wants to pull me over and ask me questions. I'm just going to tell I will get back to them on that. At my earliest convenience. Yeah, that will work. Don't call me. I'll call you.

Does anyone have bail money I can borrow.?

Give Thanks

This is a picture of our Thanksgiving last year. Notice the center piece. Pretty nice, huh? Are we fancy or what? Just a bunch of Marthta fuckin' Stewarts. How about the wonder bread and paper plates. Anyone hear that rumbling? It's my mother rolling in her grave.

Yes, this is just another of the Norman Rockwell moments at the D'Amico household. Looking at this picture, you would never know I was the one with "the knack!"

I am dead serious though. That was last Thanksgiving at my house. The Madonna's kids could not get to Pittsburgh until later in the day on Thanksgiving, so we had our big dinner on Friday, the day after.

I didn't want to have to cook a turkey twice, so I made beef stew on Thursday. We were in a hurry so I just sort of threw the bowls out on the table with the good china. We had such a nice time. After eating stew, we all went to Cousin #2, George's house for desert. (who in my eyes, made the jump to number one this year).

Believe it or not, it was one of the best holidays because there was absolutely no stress involved. Unless you account for my worries that I didn't have enough paper plates!

Thanksgiving was such a big deal in our family. Year after year all my cousins, aunts and uncles would come to our house and we would squeeze around folding tables. I wouldn't trade those memories for anything.

The ones that stick out though, are the ones that deviated from the norm.

Ten years ago, when my mother was in the last stages of her cancer, we wanted to make sure she had a special Thanksgiving. My whole family came to my house for what was to be my mothers last Thanksgiving dinner.

The day before, she got really sick and her Doctor told her it was too risky for her to be near a bunch of people because her white blood count was up or something like that. We were so disappointed. There we were, all eating at my house with out my parents.

So my father set up the card table at her bedside. We sent up all the food. And they ate, just the two of them. While 25 or so kids, grandkids, son's in law, etc. ate down the street at my house.

We all felt so bad. But you know what my mother said. She said it was one of her best Thanksgiving's. It was just like their first one together in 1950. Just the two of them. They spent their last, just like their first. But this time, they were thankful for a job well done as the fruits of their labor were a few streets away, happy, healthy, successful and enjoying each others company.

Thanks for a job well done.
That's what it's all about.

November 22, 1963

Anyone of a certain age, and yes that includes me, knows exactly what we were doing about two minutes after this picture was taken.

I was sitting in Sr. Madonna's (No not "The Madonna") first grade class.

Every Day from noon to one, my mother watched Bill Burns, then Guiding Light and Search For Tomorrow. That's when soaps were on for only 15 minutes.

They broke into Search for Tomorrow with news the President had been shot. She then hurried up and called the school. Then I'm sure she called my Aunt Babe and they talked about if for hours on the phone.

We were told just to kneel in the aisle and pray. And that's what we did. No kneelers, no church. Just drop to our knees and pray right there. Right there in the aisle of Sr. Madonna's first grade class room in St. Mary's Grade School. I'm sure every other class room was doing the same thing.

Can you imagine if that were to happen today? Parents would be calling the school saying we ruined Johnny's knees for life and because of that, he will not have that future NFL career that he was sure to have!

Madmen did an episode about the assassination. Boy did they nail it. Hands down. That's why I totally loved that show.

What were you all doing that day?

THANKS DAD!

HAPPY VETERAN'S DAY!

*Member of Army Air Corps, 460 Bomber Group.

I'm Working On A Dream

It's been strangely quiet on this here blog lately. Sorry.
Not because I don't have anything to say, but because I am still computer-less at home.
And at work? Well that darn thing called work keeps getting in the way. Been busy.

Not much new here in Anger Managementland. EXCEPT.......it's the start of Birthday-rama. This Friday, October 16, I will be 52 years old. Yes, 52 and proud of it.

So, in honor of my 52nd Birthday here are some words of wisdom from people far smarter than me (hello, not that hard!):

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. Mark Twain

Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Samuel Ullman

Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional. Chili Davis

The years teach much which the days never knew. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been. Mark Twain

A woman is not old until regret takes the place of dreams. John Barrymore

Every wrinkle is but a notch in the quiet calendar of a well-spent life. Charles Dickens

Forty is the old age of youth, fifty the youth of old age. Victor Hugo

Everyone is the age of their heart. Guatemalan Proverb

Age is a high price for maturity. Tom Stoppard

By the time I have money to burn, my fire will have burnt out. Author Unknown

Old age is fifteen years older than I am. Oliver Wendell Holmes

Men do not quit playing because they grow old, they grow old because they quit playing. Oliver Wendell Holmes

Does age poison us, or do we poison age? Astrid Alauda

Some people, no matter how old they get, never lose their beauty - they merely move it from their faces to their hearts. Martin Maxbaum

Grandchildren don't make a man feel old; it's the knowledge that he's married to a grandmother(Jerk!). G. Norman Collie

None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm. Henry David Thoreau

First you forget names, then you forget faces, then you forget to pull your zipper up, then you forget to pull your zipper down.

The years between 50 and 70 are the hardest. You are always being asked to do more, and you are not yet decrepit enough to turn them down. T.S. Eliot

You know you've reached middle age when a Doctor, not a policeman tells you to slow down. Author Unknown

The great think about getting old is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been. Madeleine L'Engle

One of the best parts of growing older? You can flirt all you like since you've become harmless. Liz Smith

In a dream, you are never eighty. Anne Sexton

I don't do alchol anymore, I get the same effect just standing up. Author unknown

Regular naps prevent old age, especially if you take them while driving. Author unknown

Middle age is when your classmates are so gray and wrinkles and bald they don't recognize you. Bennett Cerf

Youth is when your allowed to stay up late on New Years Eve. Middle age is when your forced to. Bill Vaughn

True terror is when you wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country. Kurt Vonnegut

In dog years, I'm dead. Author Unknown

If youth but know, And old age only could. Henri Estienne

There was no respect for youth when I was young, and now that I'm old, there is no respect for age---I missed it coming and going. Ann Priestly (This is the story of my life!)

And finally my two favorites:

DO NOT REGRET GROWING OLDER. IT IS A PRIVILEGE DENIED TO MANY. Author Unknown.

OLD AGE AIN'T NO PLACE FOR SISSIES! The late, great Bette Davis.

I ain't no sissy-la-la. I can handle being old!!!

Onward Christian Soldiers

From the "oh pleeeaase give me a fuckin' break" file.
I read this on Post Gazette's web site.

What a jerk this superintendent must be. Come on man. We're talking four. FOUR homeless kids. Like their lives aren't hard enough.

Jesus, this makes me angry! Maybe he should think that someday people could treat his grandkids in the same manner.

But I doubt it.

Or could it dawn on him one day the whole "there, but for the grace of God go I" way of thinking. Maybe?

So this lovely little school district whose median home price is $355,000 doesn't want four, yes FOUR homeless kids attending their schools?

What's puzzling is that 65% of its residence are college educated or better.

Shouldn't they know better?

Just a coincidence that the school is 91.3% white?

School district Superintendent Michael A. Panza said although the children are served by a day shelter in the district, they're sleeping at churches outside of the district.

These are the same people that will bitch about paying welfare for these same adults because they never got an education.

I'm sure they were also ready to "save" all those fetus' as long as they were in the womb.

But God forbid we should ever try to help them after they're born.

Jerks.

Speaking of jerks, there is a new donut shop in the strip called Peace, Love and Little Donuts.

When looking at the web site, it tells you get in touch with your inner hippie. So your probably thinking, hey this is probably run by some hipster or the like.
WRONG. I checked out his blog (which has since been deleted). This man is a far, far right anti-gay christian fundamentalist.

In his words:
This crowd will not rest until Homosexuality is mainstream,
until they pass the Fairness Doctrine and rid the county of Conservative talk radio; until they transfer our sovriegnty to the UN

Think he's talking about the Democrats? I wish I would have copied the other stuff before he took down the site.

Golly gee, those right wing fundamentalist are always confusing themselves with the peace loving hippies.

Don't ya just hate when that happens?

Sort of like when people confuse Rush with Rachel. (Well they DO both begin with R).

As the individual who sent me this information wrote; I plan on avoiding this place like the plague!

Onward Christian Soldiers. Really, onward. As in move forward. Outta here. Adios. See ya later. Bye.

* I know, I know. I'm going straight to hell for the picture of Jesus giving the finger. But you know, I looked and looked for an appropriate picture and kept coming back to this. I know it's in bad taste. But I just couldn't help myself. Because I truly believe Jesus really does disagree with these assholes.
THIS coming from one who used to dress up daily as a nun. Yes the girl on the top in the picture below is me!
a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbcVjfWvGs6rs82GXhCdhUKuk1oI3c9Gn-G_829l3tiYxT7d8wDmvP-FeB6GEjxLJ-ahN0DaKUDnCTDZiaOP_8I-O_ZZQN8bj-G6E926mQEXFGdt3oQtkjXXX0k2-Yv9aU1qcs/s1600-h/me+nun.bmp">

Sorry Jesus. For my bad interpretation of a nun and the finger picture.

Bless me father..........

Dream On

No you are not dreaming, this is a picture of the Point State Park fountain. And yes, it is pink. My friend Elaine is, among other things a breast cancer survivor. Tomorrow she is honored to be one of the survivors who will be putting pink dye into the fountain at the Point of kick off Breast Cancer awareness month. I could write blog post after blog post about what she has overcome in her life. So far she has beat her latest obstacle,just like everything else. You go girl!

Speaking of dreams, my God last night I had the weirdest dream. I'm talking weird, weird, weird. I dreamt Cyril Wecht tried to pick me up and my boss told me I had to post it on my blog.
See, I told you it was weird.
Wonder where THAT came from.
Funny thing is, Cyril Wecht got on my nerves even in my dream!
I was going to put every big word I know into one sentence for this post just like he does, but I don't have enough energy this morning.
Sorry.

On to other things.
Common Sense.
How about this!
Two things come to mind.
1. Who turned this lady in? Talk about creeps.
2. If I were the parents of those children, I would find out who sent the letter and come Monday morning, I would drop the kids off at their office.
Jesus, that is why government is given a bad name!

The Anger Management Girls are headed on a field trip this Thursday. We are going to the new Rivers Casino in Pittsburgh.
THAT should provide me with all kind of new stories to write on this here blog!

Wish me luck and pleasant dreams!

Cyril Wecht????????Where the hell did that come from?

And The Rockets Red Glare............

I took this picture while at the Pirate's game on Saturday night. It was Skyblast night. It reminds me of the attack on Ft. Henry.

Calm Before The Storm

This is Walnut Street today. Three blocks from my home. Hard to believe isn't it? On any day of the week, this street would be busting at the seam with activity.
Not today.
I feel like my city is under siege. Yesterday there were military transport helicopters circling overhead. Right now all I hear is police sirens. Lots of them.

There's not a person on the street. ANYWHERE!

Having lived in DC and working on Pennsylvania Avenue, I'm no stranger to protests. One time I was late for work(surprise, surprise)running to get there last minute. Marlon Brando and company had my whole building surrounded to protest the FBI's involvement in Wounded Knee. Let me tell you, I was pissed. I wanted to tell Marlon I really had nothing to do with it, plus I was late for a meeting, and my boss is going to be pissed enough as it is, so couldn't he just let me by this one little old time?

Anyway, you know what it feels like here this week, does anyone remember the scene at the end of The Untouchables when the Feds are at the train station waiting for Al Capone? The clock is ticking, the guns are aimed. Tick, tick tick, nervous perspiration is dripping from their foreheads. They are well prepared. Waiting. Then some woman starts walking up the steps with a baby carriage and screws everything up.
It feels like the city is the train station. All the guns are aimed, just waiting for a protesters to step out of line.

Hopefully I won't be the lady with the baby carriage!

Welcome G-20 Summit.

Now please go home so that my street can return to this:

Make Love Not War N'at

So for those of you who don't read my favorite blogger of all time Ginny (formerly Pittgirl) over at That's Church Get your butt's over there and visit. You will not be sorry.

Today she writes about the Greenpeace Mensa's who dropped the sign off the West End Bridge to protest carbon dioxide emissions. The event snarled up traffic for miles. Soooo, cars backed up........engines idling.........yeah,you get the picture.


Reader Magus Patris provided us with this picture:


With the following comment:
"Greenpeace just put up a new banner on the West End Bridge. Spokesman says they feel for long suffering Pittsburghers"

Knowing first hand a Pirate fan's agony,THAT is some funny shit!

We shall overcome......Someday????

Public Service Announcement

Protect Insurance Companies PSA from Will Ferrell

Oh great, like I'm not already pissed off. I get this.

September 24, will feature a People's Uprising, a mass march to disrupt the G-20 summit. We'll be starting at Arsenal Park at 2:30 pm in Lawrenceville, a vibrant working class community in the city, and marching to the G-20 summit downtown. Our theme is "Power from Below, Not Impositions from Above." Our only permit is our feet and voices. The G-20 is in the house, throwing a party. Let's crash

Damn I hate party crashers. I wish my college roommates lived in Pittsburgh. Cheerio and Keto would take care of all them there protesting commie mf'ers. They would go running back to their mom's faster than that girl Mary something who tried to live with us for five minutes junior year. I guarantee it!

Seriously though folks, I have dear friends and family across the street from Arsenal Park. Jaggoff's better not mess with my town. Esp Lawrenceville. We all know how protective I am of Lawrenveville. Just ask Lisa!

So in the word's of Lawrenceville's own Mark Lewandowski of SPUD fame, HEY YOU, GET THE HELL OUTTA MY YARD!!

Or better yet,how about Charlie Daniels Just go and lay your hand on a Pittsburgh Steelers fan!

I dare you.

My Two Cents

I know, I know. I've been strangely silent the past few weeks. A bunch of different reasons for that. Mostly I still don't have a home machine. So the only way I can write these things is to stay after work hours.......yeah, right!
Alot of crazy stuff has been in the news lately hasn't it? I'm sure you all are sitting on the edge of your seats waiting for my commentary.
So here goes. Some of it is old news. I'll try to be brief.

First off a few words of warning for G-20 protesters. Don't mess with my city Jagg Off's! I mean it. Take a bath. Get a good haircut. Get a job. The word will suddenly be a better place for which you to live.
Now don't you all go all crazy on me here. I'm not talking about the peaceful, lawful protesters. We all have that right. I'm talking about the anarchist nut cases. The ones who are pissed because they aren't going to be able to camp out in Point State Park and burn down buildings. Usually, when you visit ones city, you either stay in a hotel or with friends or make arrangements with a friend of a friend of a friend. It's really not up to us to provide a place for you to sleep. We didn't invite you here. Don't like it? Stay home!
My favorite thing about these nuts? They go on and on about big bad corporate America. You know, the companies that employee their parents so that they can spoil these jerks into thinking they can do whatever they damn well please. Yeah, so they protest everything/anything just to be cool. Then they go have their coffee at Starbucks!
Breaking that Gap window? Woo, that's telling them. I'm sure the Prime Minister of Italy is going to be sitting in the Convention Center thinking "oh wait, we better change that policy because some kid is breaking a window three miles away."
Yeah, break things. That's telling them. Real mature way of thinking.

Sorry, that took up more space than I wanted it to.
Next on my list, Kayne.
He's been all over the place saying he was going to apologise to that poor little Taylor Swift.
Hello Kayne, what's taking you so long? Actions speak louder than words.
I watched an interview with her yesterday and heard her sing for the first time. Loved her. Would never have heard of her if it wasn't for this incident. I'm thinking there are tons more people like me who are going to buy her CD. So she gets the last laugh.
(Besides, Beoynce is married to my boyfriend Jay Z. (Can you believe I have a crush on him?)So there's a little but of jealously there!
Oh and one more thing Kanye. This wasn't the freaking' Academy Awards for cryin out loud.
(Another one who was raised to think he is all important and can do whatever he wants to whomever he wants.
I'm beginning to think my generation has raised a bunch of first class jerks. What where we thinking? Some of these kids think the world revolves around them.

Next. Jim Wilson.
Someone should have dragged that man out of there by his ears.
By far my favorite was written as a comment over at my old fav Margaret and Helen.

”Rep Joe Wilson is a Col in the US Army reserves.
Please contact his Commanding Officer and remind him of his duty to maintain discipline in the ranks.
Article 88: Contempt Toward Officials: Any commissioned officer who uses contemptuous words against the President, the Vice President, Congress, the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of a military department, the Secretary of Transportation, or the Governor or legislature of any State, Territory, Commonwealth, or possession in which he is on duty or present shall be punished as a court-martial may direct.”

Next, the Presidents big bad school speech.
Those of you who kept your kids home from school so as not to hear the President need to go back to school themselves. He is one of the most inspirational speakers of our time. His life lessons should be an something any parent would want their kid to duplicate.
I looked up the school districts in the Pittsburgh area that wouldn't let the speech be aired. Typical. I could have named them without reading the article. One surprise. Shaler-ville let the kids listen to it. I'm impressed.

I guess it's no accident these kids today are so fucked up with parents like this. (myself included)

Enough said.

Apples Don't Fall Far From The Tree

September 3, 1901 Marie (JesusMaryandJosephCorkywheresmyteeth) Jeffries was brought into this world kicking and screaming and probably son-of-a-bitching everyone around her.

She was my grandmother. What a woman.

I think about her all the time. She was quite the character. I like to think I got all the good qualities of my DNA from her. Any bad qualities all of us kids had, my mother naturally blamed on the Polish in us.(which is very, very little Ski!)

All who knew my gram, my mom and me tell me that they will never be dead as long as I'm alive. I consider that a great compliment.

I stayed overnight at my gram's house every Friday night for most of my life until she died. She was the only one who would let me. My other Grandmother couldn't handle me. She could handle 32 other grandchildren at one time as long as I wasn't there. Go figure.

Anyway, those Friday nights were fun. They always started with a trip to the bakery. I would run down Butler Street to Gunther's to get cream puffs for company. Yeah, right. My great-Uncle George who lived next door would come over and sit on the porch with us (He never ate the cream puffs). They would talk for hours about people who had been dead for decades. I wish I would have taped them. When I was 10, I didn't care who these ancient people were. Now it do.

What I didn't realize until much, much later..long after she had died was what an extraordinarily strong woman she must have been. Even after her legs were amputated,as the result of her diabetes, her spirit was never broken.

She was married twice. The first marriage ended in a divorce. She had three young children. Caught him cheating and got the hell out of there. This was in 1925. Imagine being a single mother of three.....in 1925.

She then met my mother's father. Big Pete. His parents were straight off the boat from Poland. Imagine how well that went over. Nice Polish policeman takes a crazy Irish divorcee with three kids home to meet the family, none of whom spoke English! PLUS she smoked like a fiend and enjoyed a few bottles of Iron City.
I'm thinking they weren't really all that nice to her. Which would account for my mother telling us every bad habit we had in life we acquired from the Polish. My mother spoke of going there as a kid and hating it because they were all speaking in Polish and my mother sort of got the vibe that there were talking about them.

They loved my Aunt Babe because when asked, she would tell them she was Polish. My mom, she would tell them she wasn't Polish, she was a Democrat. Are we all getting who I take after?

She had to bury a son and daughter-in-law. He survived Pearl Harbor only to die of carbon monoxide poisoning after being home from the war a short time. My mother said she was never the same person.

While trying to cope with that, Big Pete dropped dead at age 53. My gram lived off his pension until her death. The big pension? $21.00 a month.

I mention these things because she did not let any of these tragedies defeat her. She loved life. You only had to be in her presence for a few minutes before she had you in stitches with a joke or singing an Irish tune.

She smoked like crazy. Towards the end of her life, she had Parkinson's disease. She never flicked her cigarette. The ash was as long as the whole cigarette. But it never dropped. Amazing.

The thing that I remember most about her, while sitting on her porch, I never knew who was going to stroll by. She treated every one around her with the dignity that they deserved. She never once rolled her eyes. Not even when Henny Nichols would stop by for the Popsicle sticks that she saved for him.

She was fiercely protective of her children and grandchildren. Just ask my cousin George. Poor thing cried once while watching fireworks when he was probably a year or two old. For the next fifteen years she locked herself in the bathroom with him during Forth of July fireworks just in case they scared him.

When we went to Parades downtown, which was often, every time a horse came down the street, she would yell at my mother and aunt to watch us even MORE carefully than they already were. In 1919 someone got kicked by a horse in a parade...... so you just never can be too careful.

Once, when I was about five or six, someone was picking on me. I ran home crying. While my mother just gave me a hug and told me to ignore them, my grandmother became furious. She told me in no uncertain terms DO NOT take shit from anyone. EVER.

My mother said that was worse thing anyone could have told me. My whole personality changed after that. Thank God, can you imagine me being a sissy-la-la?

I've been sticking up for myself for a good 53 years now.
Thanks Gram.
I'm thinking of you.

What's Your Coverage Baby?

Found this on Pittsburgh Woman's Blogging Society Blog.

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It would be funny if it weren't true! How many people do you know who cannot get divorced because they do not want to lose their husband's health benefits? A lot!

That should be the new pick-up line. Hey Baby, want to check out my insurance? or My insurance has no co-pays, want to dance?

God Bless The Irish

*I wrote this on Saturday while watching Teddy Kennedy's funeral.

I'm sitting here cryin' like a fool watching Teddy Kennedy's funeral.
I don't know why.
I think it's because it's really really weird watching all these historical figures doing what I've done hundreds of times. Sitting at a catholic funeral.
Words are the same, different faces.
All the Catholic traditions. The ceremony, the grieving wife, the kids saying the Prayers of the Faithful. Even the pallbearers.
I love the fact they had female pallbearers. My niece was one for my mother.

It's funny, I can almost hear them sitting around the table just as we did. Who's carrying up the gifts? Who do we want being pallbearers? Who is going to do the readings?

It's so personal, you have to do it yourself, no matter how much money you have.

Sort of like "Exactly the same....only different.

I think that is why the Kennedy's captured the hearts of so many Americans. Especially Irish Catholic Americans like me.

Teddy Kennedy did what alot of us would have done given the opportunity. He fought for what we would have fought for, given his power. He helped those who we would have helped, given the means. And he enjoyed life how we would have enjoyed life....if we only had a few million to spare!!!

Today, I as I watch his wife Vicky sitting in the first pew, I know in her heart she is wishing the mass would never end. I can relate as she almost runs to hug the pallbearers who walk past her pew on their way into church.
I know exactly how she awful she feels.

I watched those kids as they were saying "Lord, Hear Our Prayer" just as I watched my own children saying the same thing. I saw the look of pride on their parents faces.

I can see my own huge crazy Irish Catholic family sitting in the same pews, felling the same sadness as every person in that church. With Marion and my cousin Danny in the role of Obama delivering the eulogy of course. How appropriate!

Years ago Dan worked in Boston for a short time. He talked about it all the time. Him and a few buddies worked for a restoration company. He was particularly proud of the church he worked on. He went on and on about being so high up(I'm sure he meant that figuratively as well as literally!)in the scaffolding painting above the alter. He told me it was the only Basilica in New England. He always was telling me and the kids that he wanted to take us up there some day to show them the church. So as I'm watching this mass today, I am amazed when I hear a CNN reporter describe the church as the only Basilica in New England. I looked it up on the Internet and sure enough, tears ran down my cheeks. We finally got to see the church my husband was so proud of.

Last night, I cracked up when they all sang When Irish Eyes Are Smiling, just like we did at my mothers wake. Only thing........If the Kennedy's are anything like us.......Oh what a headache they are all going to wake up with tomorrow! I bet you can't find a bottle of champagne left in all of DC. I certainly do hope they tied one on. Just like any proper Irish Catholic family would do!

**The picture below was taken by The Madonna. She went to watch the motorcade going into Arlington Cemetery.

Pour on the Iron... or the Cane

The reason I am sure there is a God? I could have been born in Malaysia and been this poor woman.
Holy hell. Caned for drinking a beer? There would be a shortage on rattan if I were born in that country!
Could you imagine if the Anger Management Girls went out every Thursday in Malaysia??
Talk about "Off With Your Head! Holy Hell.

Ya know, I can get on this little ol' blog and bitch on just about anything without consequences. It's my opinion and in this country you are allowed to have them. Yes, even the crazy right wing"terrorists" have a right to their opinion..... Unfortunately.

So, I was wondering what other offenses are punishable by caning.
Of course there's the usual rape, robbery and burglary.
But how about illegal bicycle races, perpetrators of get-rich schemes (not bad), illegal money lending, vandals (hello Daniel Montano)and my personal favorite "Men who desert their wives." Can we drop the illegal bike racing and double the caning on that last one?

BUT you will be glad to know that they do not cane death cases. You cannot be caned and then put to death. Whew, I'm sure some death row inmates are sleeping better tonight knowing that.

Maybe some of the death row inmates should start talking to a "Prison Consultant." WTF??? A Fucking Prison Consultant. Yes folks, we now have prison consultants. Plexico Burris has a prison consultant. Stupid rich people will pay for anything won't they?
I am definitely in the wrong profession.

I wish someone would bring me over an ice cold "Arn" right now. At least my ass won't be sore after drinking it! My head may hurt, but definitely not my ass.

Not to change the subject Babe, but (I can hear my mother say that to her sister Babe like it was yesterday) In just four days I'll be celebrating my 3rd Blogivarsary. Yes, my first measly little post was written on August 29, 2006.
I guess I'll have to have a few extra Arn's to celebrate!
Who'da thunk it? Three years, 233 posts, and over 15,000 visitors later and I'm still here. Do your ears hurt yet?

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!

Does anyone know where I could fill out an application for Sarah Palin's "Death Panels?"
Do you think it offers health benefits?
If it does, I'm in.
I will need references.
Anyone care to volunteer?
I already have plenty of experience.

I think I might have finally found my life's work.
OFF WITH YOUR HEAD.

Can't take off work to take your elderly father to that Dr.'s appointment.
OFF WITH HIS HEAD!

Kids driving you crazy?
OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!

And just so the kiddies don't feel left out.
Jane is no longer playing with that Caribou Barbie?
OFF WITH HER HEAD!! (If only!)

I think I'll like this new job.
Leave it to good ol' Sarah to come up with this! She's so smart.

Hero's and Weirdo's

Sorry the posts are few and far between lately. I need a new computer. Hopefully that will be soon.

Anyway, what's new? I guess we all know where the idiots are spending their summer vacations. At town hall meetings. Really, just stop folks. Your cover is blown. Go home. Or better yet, take a vacation. Hopefully not to a hospital if you don't have insurance. But we all know you do. Otherwise you all wouldn't be making fools of yourself on national TV. I guess its not very catholic of me to wish for these people to loose their insurance and have to pay for their own health care. How about just for a month or two? OK, OK I'll go to confession this Saturday. Hopefully I won't get hit by a truck between now and then.

On to people worthy of my time and energy.

Eunice Kennedy Shriver.

"When the full judgment on the Kennedy legacy is made — including JFK's Peace Corps and Alliance for Progress, Robert Kennedy's passion for civil rights and Ted Kennedy's efforts on health care, workplace reform and refugees — the changes wrought by Eunice Shriver may well be seen as the most consequential," Harrison Rainie, author of "Growing Up Kennedy," wrote in U.S. News & World Report in 1993.

I have a child with special needs. You've all read about him here. My "Devin from Heaven" is a gift from God who touches everyone he meets. He attended St Anthony's School for exceptional kids throughout grade school and high school.
Every year they hold their version of the special olympics at the school. Each special kid brings a regular kid and the different sites compete against each other. It is something my Devin looked forward to the entire year.

The looks on these kids faces. The pride it gives them, it is something for which we all should be forever grateful to Mrs. Shriver.
Faces like this.

This is Devin's friend Eddie.

Thank you Eunice Kennedy Shriver for making a difference in so many children's lives. You are personally responsible for putting smiles on the faces of millions. For that I and many others are eternally grateful.
I especially thank you for the smiles you put on one boys face, my Devin from heaven.

*The other boy in the picture below with my Devin on the basketball court is his friend Richard Eberlein. His brother and he came to the games every year with Devin. I don't know what they are studying in college, but I think they have a calling for special ed. I wish I had a picture of Richard (or Robert, I can't tell them apart) when he picked up Eddie and carried him over a fence when Eddie was too afraid to do it himself. Their parents should be proud.



These kids fight for basic rights everyday of their lives, then we have the phony nutcases sent to disrupt what should be civilized discussions on an important issue like health care. Too bad that is what they choose to be good at.
As Harriet was fond of saying "They aren't fit to wipe my ass." (Or Devin's)

Awe geeze, I almost forgot. Happy Bandiversary to my good friend Judi over at Stories From The Road. Please read this, she is a riot! She is a hero to many of us here in Bloggerland! She's lost 100 lbs!!!!! Christ, to me she is a Saint!

This Sweet Old World

See what you lost when you left this world,

this sweet old world

See what you lost when you left this world,

this sweet old world

The breath from your own lips,

the touch of fingertips

A sweet and tender kiss

The sound of a midnight train,

wearing someone's ring

Someone calling your name

Somebody so warm cradled in your arm

Didn't you think you were worth anything

See what you lost when you left this world,

this sweet old world

See what you lost when you left this world,

this sweet old world

Millions of us in love,

promises made good

Your own flesh and blood

Looking for some truth,

dancing with no shoes

The beat, the rhythm, the blues

The pounding of your heart's drum together with another one

Didn't you think anyone loved you

See what you lost when you left this world,

this sweet old world

See what you lost when you left this world,

this sweet old world

I heard this song today. It's one of my favorites. It always gets me. Especially the part about missing your own flesh and blood.

I miss Dan today. I really, really miss him.So do my kids. It's not a birthday, or an anniversary. Just a plain old ordinary Thursday. The 317th Thursday without my husband.
Sometimes the worlds just not so sweet.

Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light.....

Hopefully you don't fall in the dawn's early light and have to go to the emergency room.

Yesterday as I was trying to recover from drinking too many frozen cosmopolitans at Harris Grill. (Oye.........) I was lying (dying) on my living room sofa switching channels on tv when I came upon Bill Mayer's Politically Incorrect. Love it. Why can't someone like him be president. Can it be that he has too much common sense.? I guess Obama's the closest we'll get.

He asked a question that really hit home with me.

Why is it that when Republicans talk about patriotism, it's only applied to wars?

Does any one else but Bill and I think it's un-American that 50 million Americans are without health care? (80% of which are WORKING Americans)

How about every time someone says every American does not need health care, we call them un-American?

It sure makes sense to me. Let's all put on our patriotic hats. And wear them for more than one reason.

Ohhh say can you see..............

I Think I Died And Gone To Heaven

This is how I have been spending the last few days folks.
In this house.
Sitting on this porch...............



Enjoying this view............


Angry. Who's angry?

*Pictures taken from my phone this morning. I know, I know.

One RingyDingy

I got a new phone. I love, love, love it. It's a Blackberry. I've been confused by that name and insist on calling it a Burberry. When I showed it to Ginny Ann, she thought it would be brown plaid. That's when I figured out I was calling it by the wrong name.
It is the coolest phone. It's the same one Jack Bauer uses in 24. Same ring tone too. Every time it rings I want to answer "Bauer here, send an ambulance. Now dammit!"

I can now read blogs on my phone. How cool is that? Now I'll never have a life. I'll be reading blogs 24/7.

And yes, I've turned into the people I hate. Right in the middle of a conversation, I just start reading my phone!

D'Amico here, do an intervention. Now dammit!

Never Cared To Say Good-Bye

ENOUGH ALREADY.

No wonder MJ was a loon. The Jackson family is even crazier that he was. Yeah, and give them three more kids to fuck up. Please, someone rescue those kids from that bunch of freaks.

Televised world wide? Pleeeaaasssee.

There was a private burial at some cemetery this morning. Then they announce that his casket will be at Staple Center(not crazy enough for them around Staples Center, let's see, bring the casket, that'll get them coming). I guess they want to get as much publicity as they can out of this. Whore the guy out even in his death Jackson Family.

Can we bury the guy and get on with our lives already????????

Yeah, I liked some of his music. Mostly the Jackson 5 stuff. But really, did he cure cancer? Compared to Mother Theresa, what exactly did he accomplish?
So he could dance. He was a fuckin' nut people!

I watched some old interview with him last night. He actually said with a straight face that his plastic surgery rumors were just lies. Michael, Michael, Michael, I have a big nose. I have my mom's nose. It's didn't get smaller with age. Even as I got quite larger, my nose still stayed the same.

Just like his life, his death is being so mismanaged.

I guess P.T. Barnum was right, there is a sucker born every minute.

Get a life people!

Better close for now, I have to get back to watching that damn memorial service!

*Side note: One time Ski and I were staying at the Waldorf and this older black man who looked really familiar got into the elevator with us. We knew we knew him we just didn't know from where. We thought he was Sala Udin the councilman from Pgh. Llaine, Ski's daughter just rolled her eyes at us and told us how stupid we were. It was Joe Jackson she informed us!

OK, Late Edition here. Watched on line while at work. (Before you all go "what the hell were you doing at work, my boss told me where to find it online, he was watching from his office.) I felt like I was watching In Living Color or Saturday Night Live. It was probably the tackiest thing I've ever seen. Until Brook Shields. She and Michael's daughter Paris brought the only bit of class to an event that was the goofiest thing I've ever seen. And when that poor girl was talking, they were all grabbing her and fixing her and stuff. LEAVE THE KIDS ALONE!!!You've done enough.

I say give the kids to Brooke. What a class act. And look how she was raised, with her kooky mother and all.

Late, Late edition: Watched the memorial on TV tonight. Wasn't as bad as I originally thought. I overreacted. OK? The Jackson family were the only really crazy ones, the rest wasn't THAT bad.

There's A Summer Place......

As I've mentioned here many times, I grew up in the Lawrenceville section of Pittsburgh. Growing up in a place like that has given me a lifetime of stories, enough to fill this here blog for the next hundred years.
Yeah, at least a hundred years. I have so many book ideas in my head about Lawrenceville, I can hardly keep track.
One could do a book just about the characters we grew up with. Henny Nicols, Kemosabe, Russian John, Kashu, Six Pack Sally, Chucky Boom-Boom, Jimmy Hanlon aka "Fighting Solders from da sky", Gootchie Joe and Indian Mary, just to name a few. God rest most of their souls.
I think just about all of them are dead except Six pack Sal and Goochie Joe.
Those of you new to Lawrenceville don't know what you missed. What a place!

Anyway, one of the greatest things about growing up in Lawrenceville was spending the summers at Leslie Park Swimming Pool.

THAT was living. I remember counting down the days to summer while sitting in Sister Edith, Aka Sr. Jane's 6th grade class at St. Mary's. I could hardly sit still.

You knew summer was close when you rode past and saw the water in the pool. I would run home and try on my bathing suit to make sure it fit. It was usually a hand-me-down from Ginny Ann or The Madonna. Come to think of it. I don't think I ever had a "new" bathing suit until I grew taller than both of them in the 7th grade.

I remember meeting Mary Alice or in later years Ski and heading to the pool an hour before "Girl's Session" started.

Yes, that's right, GIRL'S SESSION. Can you believe it?
Here was the schedule.
12-1:30 - Girls
2-3:30 - Boys
4- 5:30 Mixed (Over 14 only)
6-7:30 Adult (Over 16 or accompanied by a parent)

Could you imagine today's teen-agers, swimming with no boys?
Too funny.

So there we were, we would sit in a line along the wall waiting endlessly for Annie to open the locker rooms.

Annie was the locker room nazi. Oh my God. She seemed like she was 100 years old, but she was probably 40. When she would turn off Butler St to walk up the steps. Hundreds of girls would scream in delight. It was probably more like 40 of us. But it seemed like we were there for hours.... and there were hundreds of us..... and Annie was 110..... plus it was 110 degrees out!

We would race through the locker room. Through the shower room and out to the pool.
But wait. We still weren't allowed to swim. We had to wait until the lifeguard blew the whistle. So all us girls would surround the pool, and wait anxouslly until Walt the head lifeguard blew the whistle.You were hot shit if you were the first one in!!
Esp. if you were first in line for the diving board.

One thing strikes me. I don't ever remember seeing a parent. Can you imagine. Sending your 8, 9, 10 year old down the park to swim WITHOUT SUPERVISION. Yeah kid, have fun, see ya later. But we all lived to tell the tale.

When 1:30 came around we would see who could get farthest away from the ladder. Being the last one out. Yeah, we were so cool.

Time for the boys. We would go back into locker room and God forbid if you forgot your "Basket Number" You had the wrath of Annie. 110 year old Locker Nazi. And if you gave her an attitude. She had the authority to ban you from swimming for a week or more. Can you believe it?

When we were old enough, we stuck around for boy's session. We would walk down Virgie's for a frozen coke and wait FOREVER for mixed session.There, the boys would show their stuff on the diving board and with that came the summer crushes. I remember thinking "Oh, if only so and so would look my way". Funny after thought, thank God they didn't, most of them are dead from drugs!

After mixed session. And some flirting with the life guards. We would run home for a fast dinner and then my dad would bring us to Adult session. He would bring in half the kids at the park too.

That was our summer. Except for one week in Conneaut, that was it. And we thought we were the luckiest kids on earth.

The last day at the pool was bittersweet. There were diving contests and races. And both boys and girls were allowed to swim together. (thank God no one got pregnant from the water!)The best part, they filled the bottom of the pool with coins and you got to keep all the money you collected. We were rich! Oh yes, we sure were. We were so rich to have grown up in a place so special and ummmm colorful.

As we got older and bolder, we jumped the fence to swim after hours. I have a scar on my left palm from climbing the fence while running from police. Until the day she died, my mother thought I got it when I tripped in my own back ally. (Her Eileen would never jump a fence and swim after hours!)

Leslie Pool wasn't without tragedy. Dan's cousin Jackie drown swimming after hours. Dennie Golardo broke his neck diving off the top of the locker building.
In the early 70's the park and Lawrenceville changed. Vietnam came to an end and when the boys came home, they brought heroin and drug habits with them. Leslie Park became known as "needle park". Sometime in the 80s they redid the pool into something that became tough to actually swim in. The pool eventually was closed as a casualty of an almost bankrupt city.

It's taken a while but Lawrenceville and Leslie Park are on the upswing thanks to the hard work of lots of people.

What got me thinking about all this? An email I got from Lawrenceville Stakeholders
about an event IN Leslie Park Pool. The Accordion Pool Party. Does that sound like fun or what? I am so in!


OMG, wonder if any cute lifeguard's will be there. Ya know I'm single again!

*I spent half of the night searching for a picture of Leslie Pool. I can't believe I don't have a picture of something that was such a big part of my growing up. I looked on the Internet also. Nothing. Weird. Oh well, every inch of it is etched forever in my mind down to the very smell of the locker room, the red life guard chairs and the chain separating the shallow and deep ends of the pool. (it was an actual chain!)

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY

Sigh.......another year I will be watching "A Capital Fourth" from my TV. And saying, "Next year I'm going!" Sigh......and next year I'll be sitting on my couch watching "A Capitol Fourth...................and on and on.


Jimmy Smitts is right. It is so hard to explain the rush you get from seeing those fireworks set off above all the monuments. Real cannons blasting. The symphony playing the 1812 Overture. I get goose bumps just writing about it.
If you have never spent a 4th of July in "Our Nation's Capitol" you should add it to your bucket list. It is one the most spectular thing's I've done in my life. (And believe me, I've been around!)
Makes you proud to be an American.

If you can't get to DC, there's always good ol' Arsenal Park!!!! Same thing.... only different.
My cousin Jeff and I will be there playing our annual "Dead or Alive?"

Hope your 4th is just as fun!

Just as Thursday is the new Friday and 50 is the new 30. Shur-Save is becoming my new Bruggers.
Why do I put myself through it? Why? Why do I bother going there. For those of you who don't know it, Shur Save is the old Bloomfield Foodland. It's purely white ghetto. Just like me!

But hey, it's cheap. Just like me!

So tonight I stop in just to pick up a few things. I go to the check out and my bill totals $10.20.
I go to hand the girl my twenty. She takes my $20 (or chwenty as Erin says!)bill and a split second later I say: Oh, here I have the twenty cents.
White trash cashier: No, I cannot take that once I put in the amount.
White trash customer (aka: ME): What? Just take the twenty cents and give me a ten back.
WTC: No, I have to give you back change for a $20.
WTC-Me: Well, you have the same amount in the register. Do you know how to count?
WTC: (Never looking at me) No, can't be done.
WTC-Me: OK here, give me the 80 cents. Thank you. Now here are three quarters, two dimes and one nickle. And here are 9 ones. May I have a $10.00 bill for this?
WTC: Sure, here.(Handing me a ten and still never looking at me.)

AGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

WTC-Me: I sure hope you like working here. I think you will be here for a long time.

WHY. DO. I. PUT. MYSELF. THROUGH. THIS.
Just to save a buck!

Ladies And Gent's Laugh -In Looks At The News

Just a few short notes on some news items that caught my interest today. It would be funny if it weren't true!

1. Smoking in Projects

Newsweek Magazine had an article promoting aban on smoking in public housing.
Wha??????????
Yes, I can picture it now:

Pittsburgh Housing Authority Policeman: Sorry Ma'am, I'm here to tell you that you have to move. (bang bang bang in background) Wait, get down lady, they are shooting each other down the hall.
Any way as I was saying lady, smoking is illegal here and you are going to have to evict the premises. Yes, you can take all that heroin with you. Just pack it up. But I have to confiscate the cigarettes.
Sorry, that's the rules.
So....Here come de' judge!"

2. Hillary Clinton, you could have "bet your sweet bippy" I would have never lost the respect I had for you if you would have just handled your husband's indiscretions a little like Jenny Sanford. My new hero!!

When asked about her husband's political future: "His career is not a concern of mine. He'll have to worry about that. I'm going to worry about my family and the character of my children."
"And that's the truth!."pppththththth.

YOU GO GIRL!!!
Wait, I have an idea, make him resign and you fill out the remainder of his term. You are smarter than him anyway.

3. Soul mate????? Is this Sanford guy for fuckin' real? Can't even put down in public what I think of this douche bag!
Wouldn't you love to "Sock it to him?"
How typical another "Moral Republican" HA!

Plus..... I have two children and I can't even go to the ladies room without explaining to way too many people where I was.
This man is a Governor......He didn't think anyone would wonder where he was..... for four days?????

Again Governor Jenny Sanford is sounding pretty good to me.

So "Look that up in your Funk and Wagnalls!"

*I can't even get into the whole Michael Jackson thing. Good Lord!
Verrry Eeen-ter-es-ting

Anj....Where's My Bullet?

Oh great,just what we need a few more mensa's with guns!

Bless Me Father.......

What a nice day I had today. Well, so far anyway. Kids, you better not screw up the rest of my day OK?

For our 50th Birthday's Ski and I, aka Lucy and Ethel, went to Rome to see the Pope. I know,I know, it was not the "Real Polish Pope" as Ski calls JPII but a Pope none the less. It was a trip of a lifetime.

On the morning we were supposed to see the Pope we had to meet a man to get our tickets. The Diocese of Pittsburgh sent all the info that was needed for us to get an audience with the Pope, but they didn't give us the actual tickets for some reason. They just gave us a number to call. We called and and the man said he said he would meet us in St Peter's Square that morning. "How will we know who you are?" we asked. He said "you'll know."

So after a sleepless night with scenarios about all that could go wrong the next day going over and over in my head, Ski and I go to St. Peters. As we were wondering through the Square looking hopelessly around quickly we spotted him.

There he was this huge Teddy Bear of a man waving a Terrible Towel right smack in the middle of St. Peter's Square. Yes, we knew that was him. Turns out he is from Pittsburgh. He is the person who gives out the audience tickets for the Pope's blessings. When he sees a Pittsburgh address, he gets excited. Hence, Burger's get the best seats. WE HAD SEATS ON THE ALTER!!!

So we start talking and he tells us he's going to come with us to see the Pope. Poor thing, he got more than he bargained for. As I've mentioned here many times before, when Ski and I travel together (which is often) It's always an adventure. From Presidential Inauguration's to Audiences with the Pope and everything in between including hitch-hiking across the state one too many times back in the day.

Anyway, this man was a wealth of inside knowledge from knowing where the Pope was entering from, where to look. Which seats were the best. He was truly unbelievable. Plus, I think he got a kick out of us. Especially when The Pope asked us to hold up anything we wanted him to bless and I held up about 100 metals in this:


Yes, I had all my rosaries and metals stashed in a Crown Royal Wiskey Sack! He thought that was hysterical.

After,we went to lunch. He continued to give us tips on great local restaurants,etc. He was so nice to us. I wanted to give him something for his kindness. So I dug in my purple crown royal sack and pulled out a pair of tacky Steeler rosaries. Oh my God. He absolutely loved them. He couldn't wait to go back to show them to all the fellow seminarians from Pittsburgh. esp since they were blessed by the Pope. I hated to part with them, but I had a spare! (I guess they worked, we've won two superbowls since!) As an added bonus, his Terrible Towel he was waving also got blessed by the Pope. No need to thank us Ben.

Today Ski and I went to Fr. Nick Vascov's first mass as a Roman Catholic priest. He was ordained at St. Paul's Cathedral yesterday. The mass was at St. Bernadette's in Monroeville.

You know, you always hear the bad things about Catholic Priests. You also hear awful stories about the young kids of today. But let me tell you. This 24 year old man is truly all that's good about the catholic church and our young people!

God Bless you Father Nick. It was truly an honor to be in the congregation at your first mass and to get your blessing on the first day of your journey serving God. Hopefully it will be a long and rewarding one.

And please,keep those prayers coming. Lord knows I need them.

Love,
The Rome Ladies.

*Whew, will you look at that, I got through the whole post without one swear word. Fr. Nick's prayer's must be working already!

Late Edition: Lisa just sent me a link to a song I think goes beautifully with this post. Not to get all religious on you but what an appropriate song for today.
Just take a moment to listen.

Just Askin'

Went to Walmart last week and took this picture. Do this many handicapped people really shop at Walmart? Jesus, some of the handicap spaces are further away than regular spaces. And this is just in one direction. There are just as many in the other direction.

I find this weird. Does anyone else?

Maybe they should do a study. Does Walmart have a disproportionate number of handicap people who shop at their store? Or maybe they need all those handicap spaces to accommodate all the senior citizens who lost their life savings who now have to work at Walmart just to have money to eat.

Just askin'.

Hey...... Where Did Everybody Go?

I love this sculpture. People in Pittsburgh either love it or hate it. I happen to love it.
It struck me funny that they took all the people off to repair the pole.
My first thought was "Hey, where did everybody go?"



If your wondering where all the Anger Management Girls are going to be tomorrow, we are headed to Cafe Sam. It's one our favorite places. If you've never been there, you should check it out. The food is great and reasonable. They have a great deck and we will be sitting on it drinking something frozen!