Shanty Town fun

Let me just say....my dishwasher is lovely! Oh happy day when my beloved dishwasher was installed! Everything went fine & dandy. No dirt or plumber crack was left behind. Mister Dishwasher Man even took away my old, broken down dishwasher (hopefully it went to a chop shop so some parts could be salvaged & sold...can't stand the fact that it was unceremoniously dumped in the landfill!)

Not only did I receive my new dishwasher...but something else was given to me. Something so grand & so special I almost hug Mister Dishwasher Man when he offered it to me. Behold....................


THE BOX

My son playing video games from the safety of THE BOX

The girls sleeping in THE BOX

Decorating her new digs.

This is why childhood is great. You can get pleasure from the simplest things in life....& then you can fight over it with your siblings until your wicked mother puts THE BOX in time out!

9 weeks

9 weeks.....Nine weeks....IX weeks. I am nueve weeks..........












without a blasted dishwasher! But as we speak, a strange man is standing in my kitchen (grunting...& not the good grunting, the "sh&% this ain't working" grunting!) installing my new, better be working dishwasher.

He just came down to ask me if I was sold a water line....um...no I was sold a dishwasher & you better make it work or I will bust a cap. Do NOT mess with me! 9 freak'n weeks hand washing dishes for a family of 6 has made me a very violent person. I hand washed Christmas plates for goodness sakes. MAKE IT WORK! MAKE IT WORK NOW!


I'm a girl who likes the slow life. I fought against things like computeres & CD players for years. I was horrified when my dad bought me a CD player when I was 16. Aghasted at modern technology! I would not have that garbage in my house! Note...I was 16, no children & living with my Dad...who was never home. I ran the dishwasher once a week...no joke! I have learned that I really like having a 21 century home. I don't need a dishwasher...I just proved that these last 9 weeks. But dang it, I WANT it!

Some women would have the ability to take it as it comes, to enjoy the steady work & the quiet (my kids scattered when I did the dishes) Yeah...those women are rare, annoying & luckily few in between! But in the end, when it was necessary, I was able to stand at my sink & clean. Plunging my rubberized hands into scalding, soapy water. Scrapping the remains of the day away. Breathing in the lemony soap & thinking of women before me leaning over their sink & doing the same things for their family.

Ah yes, it was magical. For nine weeks I picked up a old time routine, revisited the past & I must admit......







I HATED EVERY DAMN MINUTE OF IT!
Uggg! That dishwasher better working mister or I will hunt you down & scrub you in my sink of nightmares!



Ol' timing it!


Do you like my glorified dish drying rack? At least it was good for something!

FINE! Geez!

All right, "sigh.........." I'll do a New Years Resolution.

So I thought about it. I want to improve myself dramatically by the time I'm 40. I recognize I have to put some work into it. 4 years (& 2 months) years will speed by. I will pull up my big girl panties & I will make a resolution!

Here it goes......small steps to a better life. My resolution for the year 2009 will be.....


To USE & EAT what I buy! TA-DA AAA!


My freak'n mushrooms went bad again. Sadly, that is the 4th. package that I allowed to rot in the fridge. I have no excuse except laziness. Well NO MORE! No more wasted food! It's a new day, a new year & I'm am one step closer to becoming a new women. & this new women says "mushrooms, you will be eaten!" No more tasty waste! I will STOP needlessly feeding my composter!

2009! Time to dine!

Your positive sound bite of the day

Well Christmas is over & its the new year. Time to analyze my life, make resolutions & over come bad habits....or not.

I don't do new year resolutions. I am smart enough to watch everyone fail miserably with their new found enthusiasm to do the impossible!

I actually am on the 5 year plan. I try to think about what I would like to be like at 40 years old. Then I HOPE some pixie dust falls on me & presto, 40 years old...I'm wiser, Bit#$er, stronger & happier.

5 years.....I got 5 years to fail. Or 5 years to succeed. I figured if I fail after 5 years....I really won't care because I'll forget what my goal was. If I succeed, well...then....I'll be taking myself out to dinner!

So stay away from New Years Resolutions...nothing good ever comes from them.

Of little things

Sometimes all it takes are tiny moments to break the rain clouds up & smear a little sunshine into a really bad day.

So is it weird to be really, really happy that my good friend Brandy is buried a few paces away from my mom's grave? As the funeral caravan drove to the grave site that snappy cold day weeks ago, my heart thumped out of my chest as I drove past mom's grave & realised Brandy would be nestled close by! It actually made me SMILE.

My mood was lifted by this little token of sweetness. I felt lighter as I walked to Brandy's grave to huddle with the rest of the mourners. Brandy's sister saw me & rushed over to me. Her words were quick & to the point. She was trying not to cry & needed to rush back to her mother. "I found this in Brandy's apartment. It's totally you! Brandy would want you to have it." She placed something into my gloved hand & rushed off to stand with her parents.

I slowly open my mitted paw and saw this beautiful pill box. I was speechless. I heard something rattle around inside the box & attempted to open it....with my gloved hands....in a blustery mid-west wind storm. Did I mentioned I had mittens on? I was too excited to remove my gloves (& it was too freak'n cold!) So I struggled with the tiny latch. I went to pop it open, but my gloves proved too clumsy & up, up, UP flipped the little pill box. I saw it in slow motion flip into the air over & over again with me batting at it like a frenzied cat. I stumbled forward chasing after this thing, trying to control it. All the while....I'm laughing hysterically to myself. For all I could see was Brandy clutching her side, grabbing her knee laughing with me. I finally wrestle the box from the invisible wintry winds with a "gotcha YA!"

I looked up after my tango with the crazed pill box to find a very tall man giggling at me. I was glad to ease his mourning...kind of.

Clutching the pill box as if it was a Mexican jumping bean, I removed one glove to pry open the latch. Inside the box was a matching necklace. Removing my other glove, I poised to put on the necklace. Looking up, the tall man nodded to me silently asking me if he could help. But by that time, the necklace was on & it was time to begin the burial.

The tall man noticed my new necklace & was grateful (I'm sure) I was done stumbling around like a drunken fool. He gave me the thumbs up and cocked his head to have me join him. So I squeezed myself next to him with my knees banging against each other from the cold. Soon other people crowed around me. Smiling, we knowingly crushed each other to try to keep warm. There we stood. My cheek against an elbow, a woman's hair blowing in my face, shoulders, legs, backs all touching. Grounding us. Holding down our grief. Teeth clattered so loud that we soon found ourselves stifling our GIGGLES.

The winter wind nor the circumstances did not erase my new found smile. Standing cocooned by the crowd, wind whipped & freezing.... I smiled a toothy inappropriate smile (for a funeral!) as I picture my mother holding Brandy hand as they howl together in laughter.

The no good, bad, sad stinky reunion

I was surprised by the sound of the wail that came from my gut. It vibrated out of my bowels & stung my ears. For a moment I didn't realise the horrible sound was coming from my own lips.


My friends wake & funeral was surreal, painful, funny, touching & just plain awful. When I walked into the the parlor with my Dad, I saw my dear friend & her parents. I did screech and clap my hands at the sight of her. We both did the happy dance at the sight of one another. We forgot, for a moment what this reunion was for. As I walked over to her, our giggles turned to sobs. Our faces mimicked the horror in each others faces. By the time I reached her, we were both in full blown wailing mode. I clung to her little body & moan over & over again "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" Soon her father joined us & wrapped us both in his lanky arms & he cried into the top of my head. Her mom clung to my waist. We were a pathetic, weepy, wailing burrito of sorrow. Brandy would have rolled her eyes at the theatrics!

The crying settled & we peeled ourselves off of each other. Her sister took my hand & turned me toward Brandy, "go on & say Hi."

I don't remember walking up to her casket, but the next thing I knew I was awkwardly hunched over her casket (damn kneeling pew in my way) clutching a lock of her black hair & patting her shoulder. I'm sure my Dad was thinking I was going to climb in with her! I was shocked at how good she looked. She looked like she was sleeping. Her make up just right (well the coral lipstick did her no justice. She doesn't wear coral lipstick! Arrggg, I squashed the urge to pull out my own lipstick. Really....coral?) My 35 year old rational brain drained out of my ears & all that was left was my 8 year old self, shacking her shoulder & patting her face trying to wake her up.


I finally manged to have some decorum & lower my knees to the pew in front. Still confused, I rub her, thinking that would wake her up. Her mother wailing " her little friend from school, her little friend." made me cry more. After a few minutes of talking to Brandy, I regained my earthy self & remembered that she is gone. She is just a pretty shell that once housed her noble, sweet, smart & fierce spirit. Poor Brandy, her lock of hair soaked with so many tears.



I stayed 4 hours with the family that night. Drained of all joy, I watched over Brandy & her family.

The day of the burial was brutally cold. The drive to the burial grounds was quiet & reflective. Kindness was shown. To the man who accidentally pulled out in front of the caravan then quickly pulled over, mouthing sorry & waving. The construction worker who removed his hat & stopped traffic in an intersection to wave us through. To the friends & strangers who linked arms walking to the site. People united in grief rubbing backs, holding hands & offering a sad smile. Death makes us remember we are all in this life together. No matter who we are or what we are. Life is short, we need to care & tend to one anther. Lift each others burdens & make our presence known to each other.
I don't want to live with anymore regrets. I don't want friends to slip through the cracks, promptings to go unheard, jaded thoughts, lazy intentions. I don't want to endure to the end, but rejoice to the end.





Dearest Brandy, thank you for your friendship. I'm sorry you had to go so soon. You are healthy. You are happy. You are well taken care of. Those who you unwilling left behind are the one's who I feel sorry for. We will do our best to live a life that is noble, kind & happy. Then one day, I hope to see you again. You'll squeeze my neck & this time your hair will be soaked with tears of happiness, not sorrow.

Too soon, too soon

Today I am going back to my hometown to visit a friend. I stand in front of my closet, staring at all the Goodwill clothes I have hanging up. Trying to pick out the perfect outfit to wear. Should I wear the pink sweater or the black? Decisions, decisions.

I have known Brandy since Jr. High. We were in band, choir, theater together. Her sister & I were inseparable in High School. We did lots of awesome things together like plays, prom, dances. We grew up together and in time we shared education,weddings, & friendship. For my wedding, the sisters gave me a "honeymoon box" filled with treats, sparkling cider, boxers for my soon to be lover & a beautiful, elegant nightie. They were so excited to have me see this nightie that before the reception they ripped open the box to show off their perfect GIFT. We squealed in delight as Brandy held up the long, cream colored "dress" from the box. They say they knew it was me when they saw it. They know me very well.

The SISTERS were a year apart & loved each other fiercely. Brandy being older, she reminded me of a wise old owl (she'd kill me for saying that!) Sitting high above the tree, silently watching. Offering advice, breaking lose once & awhile. Only to return to her perch, watching. She could be quiet & still. Sweet. She would say my name in a breathless, childlike voice. but she was anything but childish. For if a friend or sister was in need, she'd swoop down & rip the offenders throat out with her talons & screech until everyone knew she'd come after them. Do not mess with this quiet girl! She will take you down in one graceful swoop!

As I stand here, perusing my collection of "designer" duds, I smile at my memories of her. Her hair I loved (she hated it!) The lessons on Korean etiquette & catch phrases (I still remember a few!) Sitting on her bed & talking about boys. BOYS! How we pledged to remain virgins until marriage, we even had a pop top on our key chains to prove we were virginal! The days & nights we spent at her parents restaurant, where her Mom made an Italian beef sandwich just they way I liked it. Mrs. O sad for me when my mom died, insisting that they will take care of me...which she did by feeding me! Her Mom made my first sushi & insisted I eat tomato's, "More tomato's! Give you big boobies ahhh. look at Brandy, she likessss tomato's! " Mommmmmm! "Her sister, don't like tomatoes, no boobies." Motherrrrr! They laughed at me when I wanted to try Kimchi. A very pickled, HOT salady thingy. I gained respect that day in the O household when I was able to eat 2 bites without chocking! "You good girl! I like you. You want more tomato? You need bigger boobies." Thank you Mrs. O.


These 2 girls were there for me as my mom died. When I was boy friendless, struggling with classes. Through bad hair days & really bad hair days! They both were very smart. The kind of smart that got them into prestigious schools. Brandy had the kind of smarts that should have intimidated me. But she was Brandy, the girl who was every ones friend. Never boasting, never proud. Always sweet & funny & patient.

I will visit my friend today. I'll have to remember to not screech with joy when I see her sister & parents. I'll have to hold myself back from twirling Brandy's hair. I will put my face right next to hers, trying not to giggle or breath as I wait for her to wake up. She was as bad with mornings as I was. Staring at her usually woke her up, then when she did wake up, she'd beat you with a pillow till she knocked your teeth out!

I'll visit my friend today, tucked in her casket. Her sister might as well be bleeding from the right side of her body that has just been ripped away. Her parents glazed & weary. Her Mom won't speak.

How do I do this? I can't view her like this. I remember her, running towards me, arms up over her head, squealing my name with her sing song voice as she wraps her arms around my neck & put her head on my shoulder. I'll remember the chirps & moans that vibrated out of her thoat. Her eye rolls at her mother. Her devotion to her sister. Her respect for her parents. I'll stand with my close friend and her parents as we BLEED.

Today I get to visit my friend.