Thursday, December 31, 2009

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 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!)

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

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!

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

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.

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

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 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.

Friday, December 04, 2009

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.?