Hello Eloise...

The other night, as I and my husband lay quietly in bed, drifting slowly to sleep the phone rang. Startled, I jumped off my pillow! I blindly reached for the phone sitting on the nightstand next to my weary head, and let out a groan. I hate getting late night phone calls. They always scare me--especially the unexpected calls. All the kids were home and counted for. Who on earth could be calling at this time of night if something wasn't wrong? Usually it never is a good reason for calls like these. Like my husband always says, "Nothing good ever happens after midnight."

I answered the phone cautiously.

"Hello..?"

"Hello!" a very unfamiliar women's voice answered. In a deep southern accent she asked, "Did I wake you up?"

Wow, I thought to myself. Whatever gave this woman that idea? Was it my half awake voice, or did she conviennatly forget that it was 12:30 am?! Is this normal for people to do at this time? Who did she think she was calling? Some celebrity like Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan? I may have been having a real nice dream lady! How dare you! You scared me! A rush of annoying thoughts towards this woman swirled in my head, but I apparently was too tired to voice them. I did not know this woman on the other line, so I tried to sound as annoyed as possible.

"Um, yes, you did wake me up. Who is this?"

"It's Eloise!" the cheerful southern voice answered.

This woman's cheerfullness made the call even more irritating.

"I don't know an Eloise. Who are you calling for?"

"Karen."

"You have the wrong number."

Eloise apologized and we both hung up. Finally I could fall back to sleep. However, not a minute had passed when the phone rang once again. I knew it must have been Eloise.

"You have the wrong number!" I exclaimed.

"I'm so sorry, but can you give me some information on this number?"

What?! Are you kidding me?! Really lady! No matter how many times you call this number you are not going to speak to Karen! At this point I was tempted to slam the phone down on Eloise, but instead I have her the "information" she asked for. The nerve, really..

"My number is 225-3317, and there is no Karen living here."

I hung up on her second apology.

Afterwards, did I go to sleep right away? No. All I could think about was this woman named Eloise. I tried to picture in my mind what she looked like. I wondered who Karen was. I have a sister-in law named Karen, but she couldn't possibly be looking for her, or could she? Did this Karen have a similar phone number to mine? Did Eloise dial the wrong area code, or did she write down the number wrong? Why on earth would she be calling Karen this late? Was Eloise calling from a different state? Perhaps that could explain her southern accent. May be Eloise was calling from Georgia, or Alabama; and then suddenly I visualized one of the actresses from The Help. My wondering went on for hours. I think I finally fell asleep at 3 am.

I woke up craving biscuits and grits.

Why I Don't Like Monkeys

Earlier this year, I took the kids to San Francisco Zoo. Upon arriving, I noticed that my youngest son, Nicholas was very concerned for some reason about where the monkey habitat was located. At first I didn't understand why, until he reminded me of the story I had told him of when I was a little girl and the "monkey incident" that happened at a pet shop.

Since that fateful day, I've not been a fan of monkeys. I do not like monkeys. This is why:

I must have been may 6 or 7 when it happened. Back then I had very long, and thick hair that fell below my waist. It was a chore to keep my hair combed and out of the way, so my mom kept my hair in braids and pony tails and ribbons.

I remember the day like it was yesterday. My sister and I had urged my dad to take us to a local pet store. Okay, we begged him to take us. I'm not quite sure if we actually had to buy something, or if it was just to look at the cute kittens and puppies. Back in those days, pet stores actually had animals in them besides just fish, birds, and mice. This pet store in particular had a monkey. It's cage was right at the front entrance. It was a very large cage with a real monkey who sat on a swing. I was very observant of this monkey, because it always yelped each time someone walked into the shop, and frankly, it scared me, so I would make a point of walking very quickly past the cage or hide behind my dad.

On this day in particular, I apparently did not walk fast enough. The little monkey reached out his hand and grabbed one of my pig tails. Perhaps it was the red ribbon my mother had tied at the end of my braid that caught the little creature's attention, or was it merely the fact it noticed or sensed my fear. "Finally that little girl is alone..." it may have thought to itself. "Time to grab those annoying ribbons of hair.."

The monkey tugged on my braid with such force, that I didn't have air enough in my lungs to scream. It was terrifying to say the least. I was afraid to cry. I hated that monkey. I never went into that pet store ever again, and since then, I've never cared very much for monkeys in general. Planet of the Apes? Forget it! Never enjoyed watching that series, and each time I saw my brother watching the series on TV it would make me squirm. The worse movie I had to watch EVER was Return of The Planet Of The Apes. Of course I had to sit in the first row at the theatre. I don't remember WHY I went to see that movie in the first place. I think my son dragged me to that one. It was either that or Pokemon. Eeeek... NO thank you!!

"Don't worry mom, the monkey's are too high up there to reach your hair." Nicholas pointed out at the monkey exhibit. "I'll let you know if they get closer.."

I'm afraid my son doesn't care too much for them either. Once they started throwing poop, we quickly made our way to see the giraffes. Giraffes...now those are lovely creatures! Giraffes are cool.


Yes, this is a gorilla--not a real one of course.

The Cracker Story

"Ah, Julie, I need crackas sem salt!" My mother exclaimed.

In other words, my mother's half translated plea was that she needed unsalted white saltine crackers, you know the ones that come in the green box? She is diabetic, and she isn't suppossed to eat the normal saltine crackers. Having just moved to San Jose, I wasn't very familiar of the area, but I was pretty sure there was a Walmart or a Target where we could find these "very important" crackers my mother was craving. My mother was visiting and she had unfortunately forgotten her own personal stash bag of crackers in her kitchen. Her evening tea, was not the same without her "crackas", so she really wanted to get herself a box that night.

I, on the otherhand was 9 months pregnant, 3 days from my due date. I was feeling a little tired that evening, but there were a few things I still needed for the baby, so a trip to Walmart or Target sounded like a good idea. I could buy some last minute items, and my mom could get the crackers---everyone would be happy. So my daughter, Lizzy, my mom and I headed out on our quest for the "crackas"...

It was a cold November evening, and the directions to the nearest Walmart, that my husband tried to explain to me, were not working. After going down way too many wrong streets, and way too many wrong turns, by trip to Walmart went futile. "Ah Julie---I'm never going to get my crackas! I like taking my crackas with my medication." My mother explained. So, out of desperation, I headed to Target. I knew where that was.

It wasn't until we were finally walking around in the Target store, looking for those most wanted "crackas" in the cracker aisle did I feel a little "different". I didn't know it at the time, but my body was sending me messages that baby may be making preparations for an earlier appearance. Surprisingly, my two older children were both born on their due dates. I know that may sound strange, and it hardly ever happens, but it's true with me. This baby's due date was on the 7th, and it was the 4th. Hmmm, I wondered to myself, I would be so cool to have a baby born on the 4th. I was born on the 4th...

Surprisingly still, with all the rows upon rows of crackers that were on sale at the Target store, NONE OF THEM were the ones my mother was looking for. Of course. It was a disappointing trip to say the least. We left the store with 3 packages of newborn diapers and undershirt onezies, some lip gloss (for Liz--Dr. Pepper flavor) and a box of generic unsalted saltine crackers that my mother half heartidly settled for. They didn't taste the same of course, but it was better than nothing. I on the other hand was experiencing some pain in my hips.

To change the subject about how disappointing that a store that big did not carry the "right" saltine cracker, I disclosed to my mom that I was feeling some pain. She immediately stopped talking about the crackers, and glowed with excitement. Good thing my mother just happened to be in town that night. After a trip to the bathroom at home, it was definitely time for Rich and I to head to the hospital. My mom stayed home with the kids, and had tea with her generic crackas, while Rich and I headed to Dominican Hospital.

Nicholas Joseph Costa Langley was born hours later, on November 5th, two days early, and delivered by his Godmother, Karen. Karen had just started her night shift 30 minutes after we arrived to the hospital. It would be her last day until she was off on vacation. She took time off for her own birthday, which happened to fall on November 7th--Nicholas' due date. Better early than late.. :)

How about those "crackas"?!

30 Day Blogger Challenge--Day #6

Day 6 of 30 Day Blogger Challenge!

Today's question: Who is your favorite super hero, and why?

As you probably noticed already, my favorite super hero is Wonder Woman!

Wonder woman is fast, strong and can glide on air currents--thus she has that "invisible jet". Her super hero traits also include her bullet deflecting bracelets, (I love bracelets) and her Laso of Truth, (I hate liars). She has long raven hair, and is simply beautiful.

I remember watching Lynda Carter, in Wonder Woman when I was younger, and I thought she was the most beautiful woman/super hero I had ever seen. And, then there was the cartoon, Justice League. Wonder Woman fly in her invisible jet, looking for crime. What a dream it would be to be able to do all that! Isn't almost every girl's dream, to wear beautiful jewlery, tie up criminals and make them tell you the truth, be super strong and fast, and fly like an eagle in an invisble plane, looking flawless and beautiful at the same time? Okay, it may be not your dream, but I think it would be pretty cool!

Forget Barbie, I want to be Wonder Woman!

30 Day Blogger Challenge--Day #5

Today is Day 5 of my 30 Day Blogger Challenge!

Exciting stuff!

Day 5: Post a picture of someplace you have been.




Today I'm sharing pictures of where I and my husband Richard recited our wedding vows. The pictures are from Pacific Grove, California. We were married on a beautiful spring day; April 19, 2003. We have gone there every year since, during the month of our anniversary to remember that beautiful day. It is our favorite place near the ocean.

30 Day Blogger Challenge--Day #4

It's Day 4 of my 30 Day Blogger Challenge!

Today's subject: A habit that you wish you didn't have.

I had to think about this one a little. I have more than one habit I wish I didn't have, but if I were to choose the one I disliked the most, I think it would be my habit of PROCRASTINATION.

I procrastinate. I start with the best of intentions to see a project go through, but often at times, I let it go along the way side. I need deadlines. If I don't have a deadline, I tend to let things slide and forget about it.

Procrastination is not a problem at work. I have deadlines at work. Things have to be done, it's part of my job. I don't like things lying around my desk. I assign work to different people, I file away documents---I hate clutter around my desk.

I procrastinate with things I have on my list of things to do for myself. I really don't have a written list for ME---it's a mental list. I think about it from time to time, and most of the time I'm disappointed with myself of how little I've done for MYSELF. For example, I make sure my mother goes to her doctor appointments, and check ups, but when was the last time I went for a check up? That little voice goes on and on of things that I should be doing for myself... I don't put myself on top of the list sometimes, but it's hard sometimes to find the time---there I go again with the excuses. See what I mean?

Procrastination--it's a bad habit. Other than that, I don't have many vices. I don't smoke, nor do I drink at all that much. I don't steal or lie, or eat too much. I do find myself eating spoonfuls out of a jar of Nutella, but who doesn't do that? REALLY?!



Above is a picture of the blanket I made for my daughter. I'm very proud to display this blanket. It took me 6 years to actually complete this. Of course, my daughter will argue that it was much longer than that. She may be right, because I stopped counting the years. My daughter has picked different colored yarns for numerous other attempts that went futile (They are somewhere in a bag in the attic right now.) One day, my daughter cornered me at a local craft store, reminding me of "that blanket" I had promised to make her years ago. I was guilt stricken and embarrassed. She challenged me, so I told her pick the colors she wanted, with a promised vow that I would complete her blanket by the year's end.

It took a little longer than that of course, but it got done. It took a lot of dedication to get it done, and I think I actually surprised my daughter. I really had to get my mind set on completing this project. It happens sometimes; sometimes I surprise myself. I just wish I had more dedication like this all the time.

Until next time..

Julie

30 Day Blogger Challenge--Day #3

Today I'm posted #3 of my 30 Day Blogger Challenge---never mind that it was posted, I don't know, almost a week from the last post. Hey, well, at least it is being done!

Day #3: Post a picture of you and your friends.



Obviously, the picture above was not taken recently. It was taken way back when I was still in high school, back in 1984. Damn. That was a long time ago, but you know what? It doesn't feel like it was that long ago.

It is very weird to come to the realization that this picture was taken over 26 years ago. Damn. This picture was taken at my 18th birthday party. I asked my friends to dress as people they admire. Leslie is dressed as Indiana Jones, Denise is dressed as some kind of Disneyland tourist, Samantha didn't come dressed, so we found a hat a scarf for her to wear, and Margaret is dressed as a punked out Texan. I was dressed as Boy George.

If you know me, and if you were a true friend of mine, you would know that I have always been a fan of Boy, aka: George O'Dowd, since high school. I used to cut out his image from the Star Hits magazines and plaster him in my bedroom. Of course this is after my sister moved out and got married and took down all the Bee Gee and Andy Gibb poster memorabilia. This annoying "friend" of mine, the one who used live next door to my grandma, said that "I was just joking about liking him..." She really wasn't a friend of mine.

It doesn't feel like it was that long ago. Okay, today, I can't say that I'm as big of a fan of Boy George as I was back in high school. Never mind, he is now a very much older, and chubby bald man who wears funny hats, convicted of being a drug abuser and rapist, and isn't allowed into the U.S. because of it. I am still a bit sad that his concert was cancelled. I still have his tickets from that cancelled concert. It was a major let down. WHY? Sure, I'm not crazy for the Boy like I was in high school, and I'm no longer sending him letters, or part of his fan club, and I am married to a man who HATED him and his music, but he was a part of my past--just like an old friend. He really can't be replaced by anyone else.

Remember when you were in high school, and you hung out with your friends, and you always thought, that no matter what, you'd still be hanging out with the same group of friends until the day you dropped dead? Well, of course, that doesn't happen very often. Sure, I still keep in touch with some of the women who are in this picture. Denise and I get together now and then when she is in town. I keep in touch with Leslie and Margaret on Facebook, and I reconnected with Samantha at the last reunion, and we exchange Christmas cards, but the distance and life in general has kept us as now being more than acquaintances rather that good friends. It's sad, but we'll always be friends--we'll always share the connection we had back in the day.

I would post a current picture of me and my friends, but that would be kind of impossible to include everyone. I have a broad array of friends, and not enough space for pictures for this entry. Some of the friends I do have, I don't even have pictures of. Furthermore, some of the friends I have, I have never met in person. Sooo....if you don't see your face in this entry, please be aware that you are really truly my friend--especially if you are reading this... :) Basically--you know who you are.


Thank you for being my friend. :)