Coelha Thoughts

Why I Don't Like Monkeys

2011-11-24T14:24:00.000-08:00

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

2011-11-04T17:33:00.001-07:00

"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

2011-10-20T17:33:00.000-07:00

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

2011-10-06T17:22:00.001-07:00

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

2011-10-03T19:38:00.001-07:00

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

2011-10-01T22:23:00.001-07:00

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. :)

30 Day Blogger Challenge--Day #2.

2011-09-25T09:24:00.000-07:00

Hello!

It's day TWO of my 30 Day Blogger Challenge! The subject of the day is:

THE MEANING BEHIND YOUR BLOGGER NAME: Coelha Thoughts

The word "Coelha" is a Portuguese word that means generally, a female rabbit. Translated, from Portuguese, my Blogger name have been: Pensamentos of Girl Rabbit. I didn't choose that name because it was too long, and most people don't know what "pensamentos" (thoughts) mean. I could have chosen: Pensamentos da Coelha, but that is just too Portuguese, and I'm sure it would be overlooked quite easily, and because I don't blog in Portuguese, I don't think it would be a good title for a blog written all in English. What's the point of writing something when you aren't targeting the right reader? Or, I could have just translated it all in English and have chosen: Rabbit Thoughts. Hmm...yes, that may have worked, but I wouldn't be attracting my Portuguese reading audience either. By reading my title, I might be attracting people who like rabbits--not that I have anything against people who like rabbits, for I also like rabbits, but perhaps they would think they came across a blog totatlly focused on the animal (which this isn't), or may be it would give the impression of this being a blog about farm animals, or a vegan blog....

In general, this blog is about a Portuguese/American woman; just little piece of my life.

I know what you are thinking. Why Coelha? Does she think she is a rabbit? Does she have rabbits as pets? Does she wish she was a rabbit? What is this fascination about rabbits? Is this woman nuts?

Hmm...well, I may be a little nutty, but let's just say I like the word "Coelha". It takes me back to another time in my childhood. It takes back to that Easter visit, a long, long time ago, when my cousins from far away came to visit us. My cousin, Jose, who was about the same age as myself (13) could not understand the whole concept of the Easter bunny. I was determined to make him a believer! I think he "believed" for about 30 seconds after I ran to the front door with a basket full of Easter treats, rang the door bell, and went back to the dinner table. It was worth the 30 seconds though. (I call this cousin "Coelho" now and then to this day.) :B

To make a long story short (I have a hard time doing this most of the time) the nickname Coelha just stuck. I have become attached to it. The name is MINE!! I have an AOL account under the name Coelha. Believe it or not, I've had people ask in email and instant messenger whether or not I would consider "giving up" my screen name. Can you believe it? NEVER!!! I cannot give up my screen name on AOL because I am the only Coelha on there. It's an original. I don't care if your last name is Coelha or Coelho---this screen name is mine! I don't want my screen name to be Coelha44 or 4Coelha, it's COELHA. I am hardly on AOL anymore but I can't give it up, because if I do, SOMEONE will take it. It's mine. Live with it.

Until next time..

Day 1 of My 30 Day Blogger Challenge

2011-09-24T11:26:00.000-07:00

Today marks the 1st day of my 30 Day Blog Challenge!! Nevermind I was going to start this over a week ago.. (Thanks Shermeen!) Oh well, as they say, better late than never!!

Day One: Include a recent picture, and write 15 interesting facts about yourself. 15?! Really?! Hmm..interesting facts...gee, I don't know if you can call of this interesting, but here goes:

1. I was born and raised in Santa Cruz, California-in a fairly small, pretty
coastal town in between San Francisco and Monterey. I would go to bed with my
window open, and the curtains flying. On quiet nights I could hear owls cooing in the distance, and seals calling from the ocean. I shared a bedroom with an older sister who plastered our bedroom walls with Bee Gee and Andy Gibb posters. One day she "flew" out of the window in her nightgown. I could go on with that story, but I think that is one of my sister's interesting facts, so I'll let her tell you about that one.

2. I'm the youngest of 4 children. I truly enjoy being the youngest child. Although it has it's benefits, it's not always easy, but I can't complain. I had a happy childhood, with one mom, and one dad, and one home. Now that I'm older, I realize that this is often a rarety in many families--mine personally. Throughout my life, I've moved quite often, and was a single parent. I know NOW how lucky I truly was/am. The home I was raised in is still there on Alamo Ave. If my father were still alive today, I am more than certain he would be right there with my mom, like always.

3. When I was younger, I was rather shy. Not many people I knew at school
truly knew who I truly was. When I came home from school I was a different child. My teachers all thought I was such a sweet and obedient child. I had them all fooled. At the office I'm a dedicated worker bee, and I get the job done-at home, I get it done, but I'm MOM. In this time of my life, I'd rather be at home and be MOM than at work. I'm a much more fun person outside of the office-I really am.

4. For some odd reason, my life always seems to revolve around the number 4! Here is a small example: I was born the 4th child, on the 4th month, on the 4th day, at 12:04 am. I got married on May 4th at 4 pm. I've been pregnant 4 times, (includes 1miscarriage), and presently, my husband and I have 4 children... I could go on and on about the frequency of times the number 4 comes up in my life, but it gets to be kind of ridiculous after awhile. For some reason the number just pops up, not on purpose, it just happens-no explanation. I was hoping my youngest would be born on the 4th, but he stubbornly decided to born on the 5th...

5. I met my first husband when I was 19 years old. After knowing him for two
weeks, I left the island, and we exchanged letters and telephone conversations.
I left in September, and he came to visit to me the following February. He
never left. We were "married" civilly by a retired judge on Valentines Day in my
mother's living room. The judge was annoyed that we didn't have rings, and he
got even more annoyed when we told him our REAL wedding was going to be in May,
after I turned 20. This was just for the "carta verde" (green card). We were in love, but we were too young. We didn't know eachother, let alone who we were. Before this marriage ended it produced two beautiful children. Although life back then wasn't easy, I don't regret any of it. I appreciate my life NOW more than ever because of it.

6. One of my most favorite memories as a child were vacations spent overseas to the
Azores. The island of Terceira will always be a second home to me, and I have my parents to thank for that. My father would work endless hours, and sometimes a job or two on the side to afford those trips, and for this I will always be forever grateful. We would spend entire summers surrounded by the beauty and culture of my family. It was truly the best gift my parents could ever give to us. We weren't rich by any means, but I always felt special because of those summer trips. I enjoyed ruining my new pumps on cobblestone streets, staying out way too late at nightclubs as a teenager, and truly enjoyed writing by candlelight in my mother's old kitchen.

7. I can touch my nose with my tongue. I know, this is a fascinating fact, but can you do it? Try it and let me know!

8. As mentioned before, between my husband and I we have 4 children. My two oldest children are from my first marriage, my husband has a son from his own previous marriage, and we have one son from this marriage that we share together. Nicholas is this son, and although he was quite a surprise birth for the both of us, having this child was quite a blessing. His birth just tied this family together, and I am so glad I share a child with this amazing man that I call my husband, Richard.

9. My two oldest children were born on their due dates. I'm not lying--it's true. With the help of Erik Estrada, (that's another entry) Lizzy was born effortlessly, and then there was Andrew who practically swam out. Nicholas wanted to make things interesting, so he was born two days early. All I can say is If I had that miracle shot, epidural with my older children, I would have had more kids; perhaps 8! I love kids.

10. I have a brother, an older brother that passed before I was born. His name was Edwin, and I've "known" him every since I was young. I grew up knowing NEVER to run across the street without looking both ways. I remember looking at his baby pictures, thinking they were of my own, and I remember those bittersweet looks from my dad telling me how much I looked like him when my hair was pulled back in a pony tail. I know it's possible to miss someone you never met.

11. I believe in ghosts. I do believe that life goes on after death, but I'm not that sure if there is life in other planets. I guess it is possible, but were you as disappointed as I was when they sent that robot to Mars and NOTHING happened? I don't know, I guess I was expecting to see some kind of life form come up to it and say hello or something. It was quite uneventful. I guess life in another universe is possible, but I tend to lean towards believing in things that I have seen more. I believe in ghosts--I've seen a few.

12. I remember laying in my crib as a baby. I remember seeing my mother looking down at me, and I remember a doctor looking down at me. I remember what I was thinking while I was laying there. You may think it's ridiculous, but I remember where my crib was located in my parent's room. Babies are smarter than what you may think.

13. I admire people who go out and act on their dreams. I admire courageous people who go against the norm and create beautiful things. I don't believe anyone has the right to tell you that "it isn't possible" because I truly believe that ANYTHING is possible, if you have faith within yourself. I try and remind myself this every day. What this world does not need is more negativity. I'm drawn to positive people. I see my glass half full than half empty. I love my family, my friends, Jesus and my faith, my country and I love Disneyland!

14. My dream job has always involved traveling and writing. Writing is always there. There is a voice inside me telling me to "write that book"...believe me, it hasn't shut up yet. There was a futile attempt way back when in my 20's, and the opportunity hasn't come up recently, but I hope to do some traveling in the next few years to places I've always dreamed of going. Perhaps this time next year I will more traveled. I've promised myself a trip to Rome before I turn 50...I've got 5 more years...wish me luck!

15. Okay, I'm at my last "interesting" fact about me. Besides writing, and day dreaming of traveling to Rome, and time with my family, I enjoy a good walk. I know it may sound a little old ladyish, but I quite enjoy it. I walk on a fast pace, and I like to pass people on my walking trail. I put my pink Ipod ear plugs in and I'm in another zone. I enjoy walking near the ocean, but I'll take a lake, or a mountain, or a walk through the redwood trees. I'll even deliver a few Avon brochures on my way. Oh yes, I am also an Avon lady part time--I am a Skin So Soft pusher.

Until next time... :)

Did I Do That? Really?!

2011-09-12T14:32:00.000-07:00

Have you ever automatically reacted badly or embarrassingly (is that a word?) to a situation that you didn’t have any control over? You discover that your natural instincts, and innocent reactions have taken over, and you don’t realize what you’ve done until it’s over, and there is nothing you can do to better the situation. It’s an awful feeling. All you can do is HOPE that no one saw you just do that. You can’t go back to that person to explain, because it would only make the situation worse. Well, unfortunately I’ve had a few of those embarrassing moments. Here are a few examples:

It’s one thing to have it happen in a public place with people you don’t know, but when it happens at work, it never goes away, no it just lingers. No one really talks about it—not to your face anyway. You are left NEVER knowing if “so and so” saw you do that, or heard you say that…. Sure, they will talk about it behind your back, perhaps in the break room with low voices and silent chuckles, but you’ll probably never hear about it. You are left to wonder, and ponder if you were caught acting badly.

In one incident, I walked into the women’s bathroom and almost caused a scene. In front of the mirror, washing their hands, I saw a tall figure. I immediately was taken aback. My natural instincts told me that I may have been in the wrong bathroom! Was that a man at the sink? From where I was standing, all I knew was it was a tall person, wearing manly loafers, very short hair, and wearing a long sleeve button down shirt, and low rise slacks. I felt myself stop in my tracks, and jump back a little, my eyes transfixed on the figure, until she came up to look in the mirror to fix her hair. I have no idea if she had seen my look of horror, and bewilderment or relief when she saw my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a deer caught in the headlights; I was in shock. Eventually, all I knew was I had to stop looking, and proceed to my stall as quickly as possibly, and try to avoid any further eye contact... I sat there on the toilet feeling really awful afterwards. What if I had said something horrible, questioning whether or not she was a man? Oh how embarrassing that would have been. Oh my God… I couldn’t even finish “my business” after that.

In another bathroom work place incident, I went into a stall to try and do my business, yet again, when I noticed heavy breathing coming out from the stall next door. It took all the strength I had not to knock on the stall wall and ask if the person next to me was “okay”. This person was heaving, and gasping for breath. I did not know that the person next to me was one of my superiors, who happened to be a larger woman. How was I to know that she always “heaved” and “gasped” when she was “doing her business?” I swear, I thought this woman was going to die in there. I thought it was a client, or another person working in the building. If I had said something, I don’t think it would have gone very well. Thank God I didn’t say anything. It would have been awful. I wouldn’t have been able to look at that woman in the face again.

For a number of years, I worked in a fairly small office, mostly with women. As the secretary, in this office, I became friends with all my co-workers, and having worked with them for a number of years, I grew to know them very well. I had met their boyfriends, children, friends, etc., family stories, and I was invited to a lot of the family/friend events. It was a very casual, and comfortable, close knit working environment. So, in comes a call for my friend Vickie. Her boyfriend, whom she had been living with for years, is on the phone and asks to speak with her. What do I say loudly across the busy, client waiting room? I call out:

“Vickie, your LOVER is on the phone!”

I’m so glad my friend Vickie has a sense of humor.

I’m getting better, but now and then I still squirm at the work place. I’ve caught myself assuming that people in the lobby are clients, when in fact they are judges or cops working undercover, and I accidentally told a person, who I thought was a janitor about some of my life history, when, later, I found out he was really a client, who happened to be a registered sex offender… I could go on and on, but there is one person in particular in the work place that makes me squirm each time I see him. He may have noticed, and I’m hoping he hasn’t, but I’m pretty sure he has seen me react badly at times when I see him. I’m afraid he has seen some weird looks from me—looks like I’ve just seen a ghost or something. He may think I’m really strange. I can’t help it, but from behind, this guy looks just like my ex-husband! So, sometimes, when I’m caught off guard, and forget he is around, I’ll suddenly see him walking towards me, and I cringe, and my heart stops a little, and I squirm, and sometimes I’ll make a face, like “someone just hit me in the stomach face.” Poor guy has no idea, and it’s embarrassing, but it just happens, and I can’t control it. I guess it’s okay if he thinks I’m odd, but I just hope he doesn’t think I find him attractive like the majority of the women in the building. He seems to have an ego, like someone “else” I used to know, which doesn’t help. I hope he doesn’t think: “Oh that Julie is gushing over me again…like, everyone else..” Squirm.

My Favorite "Butt Call"...

2011-07-29T15:53:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting at work, with the radio on, and suddenly a song comes on that brings a flood of memories to me. It was a song that was very popular a number of years ago, and it’s associated to one of my most memorable butt call.

Have you ever experienced a “butt call?”

You may be wondering what is a butt call. Let me explain. A butt call usually occurs with a cell phone, usually belonging to a man, dials a phone number unknowingly. Because, men usually keep their cell phones, among other things, in their pants, a call can be made when they reach into their pockets, or sit and reposition themselves, the "call" button is inadvertently pressed, prompting a call to the last number that was dialed. They are totally unaware they are actually calling someone until much later, or never, depending on what the receiver of the call decides to do. This can put all parties involved in a very awkward position later.

Well, during the 5 year span of my “single days” after my divorce, I received a few “butt calls.” Here is a story of one in particular.

One late evening, years ago, I was up late watching T.V. and catching up with some laundry. My two kids were asleep, and I was just about to turn in myself, when suddenly, the phone rang. It was past 11:30 pm, and it was very unusual to get a call so late. I was a bit worried, and wondered who would be calling me so late in the evening, so I hurried to the phone and picked it up. It served to be a true "wake up" call on my part.

“Hello?”

No response. But wait, I think I recognize that voice…

“Steve? Hello?”

It was Steve alright, but he didn’t hear me. He was apparently too busy talking to another person. It immediately became apparent that I was a receiver of a butt call. I heard background conversations, and a woman’s voice, and a lot of giggling. I heard glasses, and a juke box playing, Rob Thomas’ Smooth. Wow. It sounded that the guy I was seeing at the time was at a bar, apparently with another woman! Hmm.. I started to wonder, should I hang up? Should I try and call him? Should I yell in the receiver and call him names? Should I just listen to their conversation? I decided to listen in. This conversation was interesting. I guess he wasn't with his daughter tonight like he had explained earlier that evening to me. May be “someone” was trying to tell me something. I felt a little evil listening in, but, hey I was the one who got called at 11:30 pm, so I had every right to listen to the drunk.

“You look so cute with that cowboy hat on,” said Steve.

Giggle, giggle, giggle...

“Thank you.” I responded.

Steve must have re-positioned himself on the chair or stool he was sitting, because most of the rest of conversation was mumbled, and unfortunately, I didn’t hear too much until, he apparently repositioned his pants once more and got up.

“Let’s go home….” Exclaimed Steve.

Giggle, giggle, giggle…

I never let my “butt call” know what I had heard that evening. I took it as him actually doing me a favor. To make a long story short, the last time I heard from Steve was when he called months later to let me know that he got beat up by his new “lady friend.” According to him, she had thrown a phone at him, and he was heartbroken. Poor Steve. How ironic, poetic justice, hey? At least I can laugh about it.

My Mom

2011-07-07T07:53:00.000-07:00

My mother was born on a summer day, July 7, 1934 on the island of Terceira, in the small coastal village of Vila Nova. She was born in the rock walled home, her father, Francisco and her Tio Janeiro had built years before. Francisco had returned to the island after making his journey to America. He had worked on a dairy farm side by side with his brother Gilberto. Although it was very uncommon for people to return from America, he had promised his mother that he would come back to the island one day, and he made good with his promise. He met my grandmother, Maria Adelaide, soon after, and they made Vila Nova their home.

My mother was the third daughter born to my grandparents. Unfortunately, both of her sisters had died before their 1st birthday due to an infestation of ecoli found in milk products, that plagued the island in the early 1930's. Both of the sisters born before were lovingly named Aida, but when my mother was born, my grandfather insisted that this time, this daughter would be named Ana.

My grandfather Francisco, from what I've heard was quite the character. He had an infectious personality, and was a very comical and jovial young man. He loved children, and like many people of his generation, he loved carnival. His passion was his writing "dancas do carnival", and he was known throughout the island for his talent of writing verses. His passion for writing started at a young age, always reaching for his notebook and pencil at his side, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night, because a verse that would pop his head. He just had to write it down, or he might forget it by morning! My grandmother had told my mother that there were many sleepless nights due to her father's need to write. One of his first verses/poems he had first written, as a child was entitled, ironically, "Ana."

Unfortunately, my mother would never to know her father. My grandfather passed away from throat cancer when my mother was only months old. My mother was to only know of her father by recollections of her mother, and those by her many aunts and uncles, and family friends. My grandmother, Maria Adelaide, who found herself a widow at the age of 27, soon was married again a few years later to the only grandfather I would ever know, Jose. Jose was a good man, and a loving husband and father to my mother. He was a good friend of my grandfather's, and would speak about him often to my mother. This union also brought another sibling! My mother now had a younger sister, who my grandmother lovingly named, Aida---my dearest aunt.

My mother lived, for what I'm guessing, in the shadow of her father's death for a long time. Her father had died at a fairly young age, and people spoke about him and his talent constantly. The village missed him, and they missed his music. You could say he was almost some sort of celebrity from the village that was taken away too soon. Perhaps they were waiting to see something of my grandfather's talent come out of my mother. My mother was a pretty, brown eyed girl who people found a bit shy, but did possess some of her grandfather's talent. She enjoyed being on stage. Her passion was singing and theatre, and she was good at it. She was also quite the fashionista. Sometimes there would be parcels in the mail sent from America from an Aunt with beautiful dresses inside. They were handy downs, but my mother, who is an excellent seamtress, made "it work." A cousin visiting from America had once told her parents upon seeing one of my mother's plays,

"If she was born in America, she would be like our Marilyn Monroe."

(Okay, my mother told me and my sister this years ago, but to this day, she denies it. But it is true! So from time to time, we tease my mom and call her "Marilyn", but we are doing it out of love...nothing else.)

Yes, my mother had many admirers. She would sometimes talk to them from a high window on Thursdays and Sunday afternoons. There was this guy that lived in the city, and that guy who was from Lisbon, and that soccer player, oh and let's not forget that guy named Lorenco, but from what I've heard, I think her only true boyfriend was my father.

My father was in the American military at the time he first met my mom. He was stationed at the American base in Lajes purely on a fluke! His tonsils had to be removed, and because of that, he was not sent to Korea as originally planned. He was to be stationed at the island. Ironically he was stationed on the island of his parent's birthplace, where there were many cousins to visit! Ironically, my mother's step-father was one of them. My mother was only 15 when she first saw my father, 7 years her senior, standing there in her kitchen in military uniform. It was love at first sight for my dad.

Years passed on, and many letters were written to my mother, with no reply. Eventually, my mother got older, and kissed my dad for the first time. In her words, "He is the only man I've ever kissed!" (Oh, if only it was that easy for all of us.) My parents got married on the island, and after the birth of my oldest brother, Eddy, they went to live in California. It would be 15 years until my parents would return to the island with their children.

There have been good times, and tragedies in my mom's life, but my mom is one of the strongest women I know. She can drive you crazy with her compulsion for high heels and JcPenny clothes shopping, but she is my mom, and I wouldn't trade her in for anybody else. I fondly remember trips to the Azores as a child, where my mom had at trunk full of just shoes. My father would complain, and they would argue each time, but the arguments always ended in roars of laughter. There has been a void in her life since my father has passed away, and that void cannot easily be filled. Life does go on however, and she has proven that it does.

Happy Birthday Mom!! Let's make it another 40 years....life would not be the same without you!

An American Story - The Lost Letter

2011-07-04T09:56:00.000-07:00

The other day, I had family come over for a nice visit. My Aunt Cecilia, and two of my cousins, Susan and Kathleen and their children were able to visit with us for the day near the pool on a very beautiful summer afternoon. Between the distractions of the children, ages 2 to 8, and a drowned mouse, (please don't ask) we had some interesting conversations about my own family history. I know much more about my mother's side of the family than I do of my father's, so I particularly enjoyed listening to the stories my aunt had to tell. My Aunt Cecilia is my father's sister, and she had been to the east coast many times, and between her visits with her aunts and uncles, and my late grandmother's recollections, she had many stories to tell. The visit was a memorable one for me, and I had the need to write some of this history down so as not to forget it. It's part of my own American family history, and being that it is the 4th of July, I think it is a most appropriate day to share this with you.

First of all, I am an American. I was born in California, 45 years ago in a fairly small coastal town of Santa Cruz, California. Santa Cruz is primarily known for it's Redwood trees and beautiful beaches. Santa Cruz is a desirable place to live--not just because of the ocean, but it's known for it's lifestyle, and easy way of living. (More about Santa Cruz: http://www.cityofsantacruz.com/) My grandparents liked Santa Cruz as well. They enjoyed visiting during their summer vacations, and the spent their days at the beach, away from the valley weather of home. They eventually decided to retire and move there in the early 1950's. My grandfather had sold the ranch in Winton, California, and at the age of 50 decided it was time to rest ocean side-the American dream. Not too shabby for two immigrants from the Azores, traveling in the "steerage" area for weeks, bound for America.

My grandmother, Rosa Lima was the eldest girl of 12 children. She was born in the Azores, Terceira, in the village of Agualva. Her mother depended on her to help care for her younger siblings, and her days were always filled with a never ending list of chores, and as I lovingly remember her say, "endless changing and cleaning of diapers." During the precious moments she did have for to herself, she would retreat to the attic area of her rock walled home into a crawl space so she could read her "novelas" (romance novels)and magazines in peace and quiet. Her cousins thought of her as a quiet type, who was somewhat of a dreamer. Like many teenagers her age, she had visions of going to America one day. She heard stories and read magazine articles of life in America, and it all seemed so exciting and different.

Her older brother, Manuel, had traveled to America a few months earlier. He had left on a ship with his best friend,and cousin, Francisco. Francisco de Melo Borges--my mother's father, my grandfather. Manuel and Francisco traveled together in a large ship to start a new life. Manuel was going to look for work on the east coast, and Francisco was on his way to California to meet up with his brother Gilberto and sister, Maria whom had taken the journey a year before. They spent their time in ship under many unpleasant conditions for weeks. They shared food they had brought with them from their home, shared stories, and dreams. To pass the time,Francisco wrote verses on the ship and practiced and sang them to Manuel and other passengers in the steerage area.

They reached Ellis Island, with soot on their faces, and with weary but heavy hearts. Their month's journey together across the Atlantic was a long one, but their journey had just begun, but they were to part ways now. They said their tearful goodbyes never to see each other again. My grand-father,Francisco left onto another ship bound to San Francisco by way of Argentina, and Manuel stayed in New England, to settle in Massachusetts to find work at a factory.

Rosa's father, my great-grandfather, Joao, (John) was to make the same trip with another older brother six months later. Manuel had written home to say that he had found a good job in a factory that made copper pans. Rosa's mother, my great-grandmother, Maria, urged her husband Joao to meet their son there.

My great-grandmother Maria was the driving force to take her family to America. She was known as a very strong-willed and courageous woman. My great-grandmother wanted a better life for her children, away from the hard life, and hardships of the time. The island was experiencing awful weather, and sickness was plaguing the island. By the great urgency of his wife, my great-grandfather half heartily took the trip with his other son, Joao. They crossed the Atlantic and reached the east coast during a cold winter. My great-grandmother, Maria immediately begun to make preperations to meet them there later. It was soon discovered that she was expecting another child, but that did not hinder her from planning her trip at the least, in fact it made her more determined to have this child born in America.

It was cold, and it was a bitter winter in Massachusetts. It was the first time my great-grandfather had seen snow! Being older, my grandfather felt out of place in this new country. He was an island person, he had land and cattle in the Azores. He had grown his own food on the land. There in Massachusetts there were only factories, no land to work on, life was busy, life was confusing..it was not what he was accustomed to. His son, Joao, however found a job working side by side with his brother Manuel, but it had been months, and my grandfather had yet to find a job. Out of desperation, he wrote a letter to his wife, that went something like this:

"Joao has found a job working with his brother Manuel, and they are working hard and making good money. I however, do not like it here. I cannot find a job. I miss my land, my wife and my children. The weather here is miserable. It is cold, and I think it best that you not come as we had planned. I will make arrangements to come back home at the end of winter......"

The letter arrived to my grandmother's house one winter's day. Rosa and her siblings all rushed around her as she excitedly opened the letter. Everyone was happy, and excited, but not more than my great-grandmother. She happily read the letter out loud to her children. As the words of her husband were read, the smile on her lips quickly faded. Upon finishing reading the letter, she immediately held it over her head, and ripped it into pieces in front of her children, and sternly told them all:

"We NEVER received this letter!"

She told her children that they would never speak of this letter, and they were to leave for America as planned at the end of the month. They were bound to America--no matter what the circumstances were. The letter, as far as she was concerned got "lost" in the mail, and that was that. End of story!

Yes, my great-grandfather was a bit surprised to see his pregnant wife and children there waiting at the dock the day of their arrival. The letter he wrote never arrived.

My great-grandparents, with much work, and sacrifice eventually settled in a nice little town in Massachusetts called Taunton. My grandmother got a factory job at a thread factory, and at a social gathering, she eventually met her one and only true love, John, my blue eyed grandfather. My grandfather had traveled over the Atlantic from his native Terceira that same year. They had known of each other previously on the island. My grandfather had visions of life in California. They were married and made their life there, working hard, digging ditches, doing any farm work they could find, pinching pennies, sacraficing and living without many luxuries, to eventually owning a ranch, and raising their four children: my Uncle John, my dad, Joe, and my two Aunts, Cecilia and Addie.

It's hard to think that a letter could have changed it all. Thank you great-grandmother Maria for ripping that letter. I owe you. (How my parents met---that is another story.) I'm proud to be an American, but most importantly I'm proud of my Portuguese American heritage. God bless America--may this country always be known as a place that welcomes all who have a dream of greatness!

Onions & Roses

2011-06-27T10:06:00.000-07:00

It's a summer morning, and suddenly, I'm a kid again, wearing my brown leather clogs, and my white and red checked dress with matching bloomers--yes the one of the many dresses my mom had made me that summer, and suddenly I realize it's 1976. My hair is in two thick braids and is tied at the bottom with red ribbons. I'm walking down a dirt road towards my aunt's house. It's not a very far walk, but the dirt of the road is getting in between my feet and my clogs. I stop for a moment, and lean against one of the white washed walls, and take my clog off to shake the dirt and wipe the dirt away from my foot. I notice quickly that now my hand is full of white dust from the white washed house I was leaning on. Oh dear, I think, is my dress dirty too? Sure enough, I see some white dust on my bloomers, and I shake it off quickly, and proceed on my way to my aunt's house.

I usually don't make this walk alone, because walking to my aunt's house involves walking through the main road of the village, and I'm too shy when it comes to people I will surely meet on my way. I usually make this walk with my sister, who is more of a talkative person, and I can usually get away with just a smile. But today, I am alone and feeling quite brave. I see a few women in the village plaza, on the paved and cobblestone street, in front of my cousin Maria's house. They are waiting for the bus, and they are looking in my direction. I also see a man in a hat using the phone to call a taxi. An older woman is approaching me, all dressed in black, with a scarf tighly tied under her chin, holding a plastic bag of groceries. She looks up at me with tired looking blue eyes and acknowledges me with a nod.

"Bom dia menina."

I smile and nod back. I'm much too shy to say anything.

I suddenly remember why I need to get to my aunt's house so early that morning. My mother needs an onion, and she is waiting for me at home, so I need to get to my aunt's house as quickly as possible, so I begin walking at a quicker pace. As I make my way through the praca, I feel like someone is there watching me, and as I look up, I notice two women on the other side of the street looking down at me from their windows. They look like sisters, one at each window, side by side, wearing glasses. I smile, and pass them, and they stare down at me and continue talking. I hear their conversation as I pass. They are commenting on how fast I'm walking, and speculating on where I'm going. They are also saying that I am a big girl for my age, and that I have my mother's face.

I'm making my way near the cinema, and I hear the sound of men talking amongst themselves. I am feeling apprehensive now, I'm not quite sure why, but I do. I decide to just walk past as quickly as possible so not to draw attention to myself. There are two men in particular talking very loudly. Perhaps they won't notice me. I just want to get to my aunt's house and get an onion. May be I can convince my cousin Adelaide to come back home with me. I make my way past the cinema, and suddenly the men stop talking. It's silent. I can hear my clogs on the cobblestones, it's that quiet, when suddenly I hear my name being called out:

"Ah Julia, aonde tu vas?!"

I look up and I see my Primo Carlos calling out me from the top of the stairs at the cinema. He is asking me where I am going. He knows that it is unusual for me to be walking alone anywhere. I can feel my face turn red, and I hestitate, but call out to him to tell him I'm going to my aunt's house to get an onion. My response brings an unexpected uproar of laughter from the other men sitting above near the cinema door. I wave goodbye to Primo Carlos, as I hurry off as fast as I can, pass Lucia's store, and towards the hill towards Canada do Boquierao.

As I make my way up the road, I see a familiar face at the window of another house. It's Prima Fatima. She is at the window looking at me approach closer, as if she had known of my arrival for hours. She is smiling down at me, waving. My heart leaps, as she motions me to come and visit her. I tell her that my mom needs an onion, and that I was on my way to my Tia Aidinha's house. She laughs and tells me that she has plenty of onions, and motions me to come inside. I go to her front gate, and open the creaky wooden door, and ascend the steps up to her house. I've been there many times before, and as I reach the top of the stairs, I'm struck by the wave of the many beautiful scents from the roses that meet me there. I used to play there as a child. Prima meets me at her front door, and gives me a tight squeezed hug. I look into her eyes, and her eyes are welled with tears, but she is smiling. A tear falls from my cheek from out of nowhere.

I follow her to the backyard, through the garden past the wash house my sister and I used to climb on top of and sing from. Those were happy times I think to myself. I follow Prima to the little cellar in the back, through the green door. There on the floor is a large burlap bag full of onions. She hands me a white plastic bag, and she proceeds to fill the bag with onion after onion. Oh my mother will be so happy I think to myself. She will have enough onions to last her the whole summer now!

I thank Prima Fatima for all the onions, but before I leave, out of nowhere, she hands me a bouquet of white and pink roses. I've never seen a more beautiful bouquet of roses in my life. I bring the roses up to my nose and smell them. The intoixcating smell of the roses surprises me. I never smelled anything so wonderful before. Prima tells me that they are for me and my mother because one can never have enough roses are onions. I kiss her goodbye, my hands full of smelly onions and fragrant roses. I make my way down the stairs. I'm back on the road again, I turn around, and say my last goodbyes to Prima who watches from her window.

I'm walking slowly now. I proudly carry my onions and roses. I am happy and I find myself singing to myself. I exchange hellos with the people that pass me by with no hestitation. Everyone I see is smiling. A man tips his hat to me as I pass the cinema. I see a plane flying by overhead. As I approach the mouth of the plaza, from a distance I hear the church bells ring. Why are they ringing? They keep ringing, and ringing...they are trying to wake me up, but I'm not ready! I still have to get home and show my mom the roses and the onions! The church bells continue to ring until everyone and everything stops. I stop..

I wake up.

Then, suddenly I realize it's 2011, and I smell roses.

Time To Re-Boot!

2011-06-23T18:34:00.001-07:00

Okay, thank God Blogger still remembers me, because frankly I'm not sure if I remember my password. It's been a long time since I've made an entry, so I'm doing a meme to try and "re-boot" my brain. Feel free to play along. I copied this from someone else--I hope they don't mind.. :)

From my camera: This is Nicholas at the San Francisco Zoo in the tarantula room. He had a lot of fun at the zoo last week. We went there and met three of my cousins: Susan, Kathleen & Tom. They live in San Francisco and Pacifica, and they all have children around Nicholas' age. Nicholas had a lot of fun with the kids and I really had a good time re-connecting with the cousins-it's a shame we don't see each other more often, but I plan to see them again real soon. :)

Outside my window...is a swimming pool glistening under a bright and sunny early evening. Through the vertical blinds I can barely see it because of the numerous bathing suits and random beach towels and clothing hanging on the deck railing set out to dry, but I know it's there--somewhere. It's been a busy place lately, but right now all is quiet, and all is good.

I am thinking...about the weekend. Should I go to the grocery store now, or should I go tomorrow? Right now I'm doing nothing--perhaps it would better to go now-after all, best not to put off things that can be done today for tomorrow. Still I'm not in the mood. My body doesn't want to do it. I need a break--I think I deserve a break... Why do I worry so much? I always gets it done eventually..

I am thankful for...so much. Where do I begin? I am thankful for my supportive and loving husband who has never asked me to change-other than NOT TO make any more big dinners during the week. See, I can't complain. Yes, I am thankful. :)

I am wearing...a skirt, and a t-shirt, and barefoot. My hair is still wet from swimming in the pool today. As you can guess I'm not expecting the Queen of England to visit me today!

In the office...I wish I remembered where I put that Paulo Coelho book I was reading! I had it outside with me last week, and I haven't seen it since. I was missing it at work the other day. I needed to take a break at my desk, and I was completely bored out of my mind. I took a walk instead. Perhaps that was a better idea; I had a good walk and crossed paths with some interesting people. I wasn't at work today, so I'm guessing, it's dark and empty right now. The green glow of my digital clock radio is the only light in the room. I didn't miss that place today, although for some insane reason I checked my work email. WHY do I do that?!? People at work are going to think I don't have a life.

I am remembering...all the cool party stuff I bought at the Dollar Store the other day. Gee, I saved a lot of money on Hawaiian themed paper plates and napkins--oh and don't forget the paper tiki totem men and pink flamingos decorations! I may even go back tomorrow! Exciting stuff.

I am going... to spend more time with my cousins Susan and Kathleen next week--I'm looking forward to it. We are going to Gilroy Gardens with the kids--I'm looking forward to riding the white swan again with Nicholas. He loves that place.

I am currently reading...as mentioned before, IF I CAN FIND IT, Paulo Coelho's "Veronika Decides To Die"... So far I'm liking it. I hope I find it again...urrrr...

I am hoping...I'm not coming down with a cold. I noticed my nose is a little runny, I have a dull headache, and my throat feels a little sore. Oh I hope I'm not coming down with a cold!

On my mind...the party on Sunday, getting my son settled in a new school this fall, my work schedule, upcoming trips, my husband's company moving to another building....mostly all good stuff, so counting my blessings..

Noticing that...I enjoy working 10 hour days at work when it means I don't have to drive my commute more than 3 times a week...

Pondering these words..."I just miss real people..." I overheard this while walking downtown the other day. I passed a man talking on his cell phone saying these words, and it stayed with me for some reason. Perhaps it was the tone of his voice as he spoke these words. He sounded helpless, and defeated. Sadly sometimes I wonder myself where the real people are---they certainly aren't on T.V.

From the kitchen... nothing is cooking today at the moment. The boys are out and about with their girlfriends. Lizzy is at the mall working until 11 pm, and Nicholas had an early dinner. I had a bowl of cereal, I think Rich just ate some chips...

Around the house...just Nick in the back room playing video games, and Rich and I in the living room. All is quiet and content and somewhat clean--no clutter is allowed--it makes me nervous. I'm not kidding.

One of my favorite things is....lately, it has been sleep. I wish I was kidding.

Note: As you may have noticed, I changed the picture of my blog. It's from a wedding in Vila Nova, Terceira, Azores. My mom is the young girl second to the left. Her cousin, and childhood friend, is the second young lady at the end to the right. This blog for this month is in memory of her. She passed away last month on Mother's Day. Gone now but forever in our hearts, RIP Prima Fatima. My memories of Vila Nova will never be the same without you.

Landlady Chronicles, Part I

2011-04-11T12:07:00.000-07:00

When I was a landlady, years ago, I met an array of different people. I had some good tenants that the neighbors hated, and tenants that the neighbors loved, but were hard to deal with. I could go on and about the lady who bounced her checks almost monthly, or the guy who was married to a young Columbian woman who later had an affair with another neighbor, or I can tell you about the lady that almost was my first tenant.

Names have been changed to protect the innocent..or not so innocent.

Her name was Ophelia. Ophelia was the first person who answered my rental ad. She made an appointment to see my condo one afternoon and she seemed to be a really nice, down to earth person. We were in a hurry to rent the condo, and I was still pretty new to all this landlord stuff. I hadn’t had a clue of really what to look for; and I was just anxious to move out, rent my condo, and move into the home we were planning to buy. Ophelia, I thought seemed to be a really nice lady with good intentions of keeping the condo nice and clean.

Well Ophelia liked my condo so much, she asked to come by the next day and have her “boyfriend” come look at it. Ophelia walked her boyfriend through the condo excitedly. We'll call the boyfriend, Anthony. Anthony seemed to be a nice enough guy. He seemed really interested in some of pictures, and other things around the house that screamed: “I’m PORTUGUESE!” Was it the statue of Maria de Fatima, or was it my little souvenir dolls? I’m not quite sure. Anthony finally asked me if my family was from the Azores, and it wasn't long before we went on to talking, and then learned that his mom was also from the islands. He seemed to be a nice Portuguese guy with good intentions, so I thought.

I pretty much made up by mind by then that Ophelia was going to be a good tenant, and I was ready to call her with the good news, but later that day, there was a knock on the door, and who should be standing there, alone at my door, was Ophelia’s boyfriend, Anthony. I was a little surprised, to see him there.

“Hello Julie, I know this is kind of strange, but I feel the need to tell you something about my girlfriend, Ophelia.”

In short, Anthony went on to explain that his “girlfriend” was a nut case. Lovely. He went on and on to tell me in detail all the reasons why Ophelia would not be a good tenant. Not only was she messy, but she could not pay rent, and he had some documented incidents of her going off the deep end, where the police had been called. One incident involved her throwing a brick at his windshield, and then there was Christmas dinner at his mother's house. Apparently, Ophelia had flung the Christmas ham across his mother's dining room table in a fit of rage.

“Julie, you seem like a very nice person, and I can tell you have a very nice Portuguese family. I would feel badly if I didn’t tell you what a mess Ophelia really is. She will wreck this nice place up."

I was saddened to realize that my search for a tenant was not over like I had hoped, but I was appreciative of Anthony's warning. I went on to explain to Anthony that I was glad he had come by because I was just about to call his girlfriend and offer the place to her.

“Just tell her you ran a credit background check on her, and you won’t have to explain a thing to her.”

Good advice. Duh.. I didn’t even think of running a credit check before offering her the condo. I told you I was all new to all of this.

Well, I thanked Anthony again for his warning. I felt like he did me a great service. I guess he thought he owed me one because both of our moms were from the Azores. My Portuguese souvenirs and the statue of Our Lady pulled through once again. I did still feel very badly when I called Ophelia telling her that the condo was no longer available, but at the same time I thought her boyfriend did me a favor. I didn't want anyone to tear my place apart, nor did I want someone so impulsive and looney toon the way her boyfriend described her. Why they were still together still didn't make sense to me though.

Months went by, and while at work, I ran across Anthony's name. This is not good. I mean, I work for a county agency for Probation, so whenever a name “pops up” for someone, it’s not usually for good reasons. No, Anthony was not as good as he seemed, and then I felt badly for his nice girlfriend. I wondered if they were still together. That was all but years and years ago, but today, his file is back on my desk. Without getting into specifics, let us just say this guy is a criminal who lies so very well. So, now I don’t know if Ophelia was in fact a nut case who threw the Christmas ham across the poor Portuguese mother’s dining room table. It all could have been just another bunch of lies, but WHY he wanted to “protect me” from the “nutso” who he called his “girlfriend” still boggles my mind. May be he just didn't want her to move.

Soul Expressed

2011-04-02T18:59:00.000-07:00

This entry is about my son, Andrew. The kid never ceases to amaze me. He started writing poetry when he was 13 or was it 14? I couldn't really tell you when to tell you for sure. It started with him and a few friends meeting after school during his Jr. High days at a friend's house, listening to beats, and playing with rhymes. I had no idea what was going to become of it. At the time I remember, sitting in the car waiting for Andrew to finish practicing beats, usually he was late getting out of his friend's house, and usually, I was quite irritated about it. Nicholas, who was a baby at the time did not like sitting in the car, and usually he was quite fussy in a hot car waiting. Who was I to know it was the start of something special. I had no clue. But, this hobby did not stop there. Soon it turned into all night sessions in his grandma's closet, with a microphone hanging from the ceiling. Who knew my mother's sweaters would provide just the right sound. Studio sessions are now mainly at home in his walk in closet. Who knew, my little, shy, cautious, skinny little boy would write poems, and perform on stage so naturally, from open mike sessions or on his high school stage. Who knew really!?

Years before, a "psychic" told me of what my kids would become in adulthood. She mentioned great things for both of my children. She went on to say my daughter would accomplish many things, and that my son would turn to music and become very successful in that field. I was glad to hear all these predictions, but I wasn't quite ready to take this woman's predictions seriously. I never really saw my son Andrew, who was 5 at the time gravitate to music, or pick up a musical instrument. Sponge Bob Square Pants was his musical favorite, and he loved to recite the songs from that cartoon, but other than that he didn't seem very interested in music. I bought him a toy piano for Christmas anyway. He hardly used the thing.

He won the poetry slam last Thursday night, and the following poem was the one he recited on stage. I wish I could attach the video to this entry, but alas, me, Mom, obviously does not know how to use a camera correctly. I'm hoping one of his friends will share the video so I can one day share. He usually performs with music, but he didn't need it. He expresses himself so well...he amazes me every time. I may sound like any mother who is proud of her son, and yes I am. I say that proudly. This might be the start of something bigger, or not--but I'm his biggest fan of course.

I wanna spit something so great and find a way to escape.

Someone help me out this mess cause I've been twisted by my fate

I speak emotion pronouncing punch lines till my mind is weak from this poetic potion

So make a motion to express

Show devotion cause nothing less will shift my ocean

I'm more than just a kid man I've proved myself up off these battle grounds

Sometimes I break down cause my attitude is different now

Different how?

My will is passionate

Ration this then my life will end, not quit

I spit until my lungs give out like heart attacks I'll clog you out

Rush the ink inside my veins

My pain is simple yet sustained

See advice from the wise keeps my eyes open wide so I can understand this life and find a better way to survive

Feel a thrive to show whats inside I stride to glide across the sky

An out to the universe

But surely you'll break apart an cry

Cause the one you love will scar your heart and die

My soul is petrified beyond the rhyme rhythm and whats left of time

Watching the one you love the most drifting away in the distance becoming possibly a ghost

Literally or figuratively either way it won't make sense

No ones parallel to my prison cell so to you this won't make sense

I'm tense drenched by reality and reflected by fatality

Tears dripped off my cheek writing this its actuality

Something real!

Something true!

Something for just me an you!

Glance upon this fairy tale like the story is ya point of view....(silence)

Then I flew away from all this pain an death

My breath is kept whispering the meaning of life

An that whisper I might never hear

Some fear that its the end for them

But I'm happy in this atmosphere

Even though bliss may not be it

My path will surely balance it

Life attacks the soul strong an its up to you to challenge it....

So challenge it

Diminish the evil inside your heart and grasp the essence of whats pure

Cause no matter what you say or do we probably won't ever find a cure..

Just a way to escape from it all

An me

I've found a way to be free from it all

What I speak right now

What I write there and then

To liberate my soul within

Is Simply Soul Expressin

- Sincerely Soul Expressed Copyright @ US ADMINISTRATION OF COPYRIGHT

Courtesy Flush

2011-03-30T09:43:00.000-07:00

I once took a picture of someone that I didn’t really much care for, ripped it up in tiny pieces, and flushed it down the toilet. Wouldn’t you know there was a piece with the entire face of this person still in tact, and as I watched the smiling face whirl in the toilet water I felt a feeling of utter satisfaction mixed in with a pinch of silliness and guilt.

I told myself I was going to try and give up that feeling of guilt this year. Why do I find myself worrying constantly about whether I did or did not do the right thing? I’ve been constantly told that I “worry too much” or “care too much” or “I’m too nice”. I guess I like to treat people the way I would like to be treated, but I can honestly say, it makes me expect too much from people. I must stop expecting people will do the “right thing” because, the majority of the time they don’t. It makes me second guess myself. I mean, do I really know what is the “right thing?” Apparently, my right thing, isn’t everybody’s right thing.

Does this make sense?

It might not. I realize this. Flushing the picture of that person down the toilet may not have been the right thing. Believe me, silly as it may seem, I felt guilty afterwards. It almost felt like I actually flushed this person down the toilet whole, and I felt guilt that I plunged this person into their watery grave. The smile on the face still haunts me.

What purpose did it serve to flush the picture down the toilet? True, I don’t have to see the picture pop up anywhere unexpectedly. Perhaps that it is why it was upsetting to find, although I didn’t do it right away-I thought about it. There was a thought process involved. It wasn’t done in the heat of the moment-it was not passion driven. Why did it cause me to feel so uncomfortable, just knowing it was around? Am I really that insecure? Perhaps it shows weakness—yes, that is probably why it still bothers me.

After I met my boyfriend (now husband), I gathered all the paperwork and evidence from my previous, messy divorce in a pile and burned each and every scrap in my gas fireplace. I don’t regret doing this. Every piece of “evidence”, every hurtful and tearful fact of betrayal that I kept in file was destroyed. I wanted to close that chapter in my life completely, and, I must say it was very therapeutic. It made me happy, and it made my boyfriend happy; I was ready to get over it, and lead a new life. The negativity was behind me. Sure, I cut a few pictures, but only a few, but I never flushed my ex-husband’s face down the toilet. I did burn the love letters to his married Canadian lover that I did find on the computer, but I didn’t burn any of his pictures. Sure he proved to be a major disappointment, but I certainly don’t wish him ill. I hope he lives a happy, long, lovely life, far away from me.

Last night I found myself going through old, filed away documents, for someone and I came across hundreds and hundreds of pay stubs from garnished wages child support checks. I saved every single stub thinking that some day I would need them. I found myself gathering them all up, and throwing them all in the recycle bin. Funny how things can change from being important one day, to worthless the next—or should I say, 15 years later.

I guess I’m just human. I will continue to treat people the way I like to be treated, but I’m not going to expect anything in return-no matter how disappointing. So sorry for the flush---I slip sometimes.

Haunted Disney

2011-03-13T19:41:00.000-07:00

As mentioned before, I took the kids out to southern California last month, and went to Disneyland. I usually go every summer, but last summer we didn't go because we had a lot of other things planned, not to mention a wedding, and a trip to the Azores. When I was a kid, my parents never took us to Disneyland, but don't feel too sorry for us. Instead of Disneyland, we went to either Pismo Beach, or we went to the Azores, and we lived in Santa Cruz, a coastal town known for its beaches, and boardwalk with roller coasters and rides. We weren't deprived in no means, and I don't regret any one of those trips to the Azores whatsoever, but I always wondered why we never got to go to Disneyland as children. So, at the first opportunity as an adult I went, and I've gone ever since.

We usually go in the summer or spring, and this was the first time we actually went in February. It was less expensive to go this time of year, and it was a little rainy and colder, but it all mean't less people and shorter lines. On the first day we were there, we got on every ride with a minimal line wait of 5 to 7 minutes if that. As it got later in the day and darker(and wetter) the lines were pretty much non-existent. As we approached one of the last rides of the evening, the Haunted Mansion, it was easy to see why my youngest, Nicholas was not going to have anything to do with the place. I had to admit, the mansion did look more daunting than usual. The tall mansion, in the rain, lighted only by the dim lights and a full moon in the middle of darkness truly looked like a haunted mansion. So, while Liz and Andrew ventured inside, Nicholas and I stayed away in search of a drinking fountain.

I've heard many stories about the Haunted Mansion, including the disbursement of human ashes inside the ride. Stories of people actually bringing the ashes of their loved ones to the ride fulfilling their last wishes of forever to be in the "happiest place on earth." Here's a link to a related article:

http://travel.latimes.com/articles/la-trw-disney14nov14

It's a little unsettling, isn't it? I guess some Disneyland enthusiasts would love the idea of having their remains forever locked in the Haunted Mansion, or live with the mechanical pirates on the Pirates of the Caribbean. I don't know about you, but if I had to make a choice of what ride to be "scattered" in, I would pick a happy ride, where I could see smiling faces of children each day, like the Peter Pan ride, or the Dumbo Ride. Oh, and yes, It's A Small World is a very happy ride, if you can handle hearing that song over and over again---it might be just a living hell.

The next day I went on the Haunted Mansion ride with my older son Andrew. It certainly wasn't the first time I've been on this ride, but I wanted to pay closer attention to it. I was determined to find something that I had never noticed before. The ride, in the beginning proved to be pretty uneventful, familiar and predictable, until of course it stopped three times right in the middle of the graveyard, and by the knocking, and vibrating doors that sounded like heartbeats. Lovely.

You know, when you are gliding by through the ride, and it's "spooky" little scenario scenes, it really isn't very frightening, until your buggy gets stuck right there in the middle of it. I have to admit I was feeling a little uncomfortable sitting there in my buggy in the middle of the graveyard, admid the singing and flying ghosts. I found myself wondering, gee, may be there are real spirits of people in this ride having a little fun. Then suddenly, from the ride you hear the narrator's voice go on the loud speaker to announce that the "spirtis" were disrupting the ride again, and that ride would resume once the "spirts" have "moved on." Lovely. Finally, after what seemed like several minutes, the buggy started up again proceeded its way towards the end of the ride.

Right when the buggy starting moving, I heard a small knock on the side of my buggy. I was a little startled by it. I waited to hear Andrew tell me he had heard the same knock, but apparently, he didn't. I didn't want to frighten the boy, but I was left to wonder about this knock throughout the rest of the ride. It didn't help that I was thinking of all the potential scatterings of ashes that may have been lurking inside the ride right before I actually heard this "unexplained knock" that I only heard. And, of course, I did not want to mention this knock to Andrew because I didn't want him to get scared or anything. I still haven't told him about it, because I'm still questioning it myself. I have wondered perhaps if it was the people in the buggy behind us who knocked on our buggy, but I don't think that would be possible, or perhaps it was someone walking around the ride that did it. I've heard that there are actual people who run the ride that dress in costume with the sole purpose of frightening ride goers, but I did not see anyone. Let's just say I left the ride wondering about it. Apparently, I still am. The little ghost doll at the end of the ride, with the mocking voice who said goodbye to us didn't help matters either.

The mysterious knock on my buggy wasn't the only freaky experience that happened during my Disneyland visit.

We stayed at the Paradise Pier Hotel near the park, and I ended up having to buy a new pair of sunglasses at their gift shop. You see, we had gone on the Indiana Jones ride earlier that afternoon, and I apparently looked into the eyes of the Goddess Medusa, which prompted my sunglasses to fly off my head, only to be lost in a river of lava for all eternity. I went to the hotel's gift shop in search of a new pair, when I encountered the most strangest woman. I don't know if I looked any more suspicious than the average customer, I mean, I don't think I fit a profile of someone who would likely steal or commit a crime. When shopping a lot of people think I actually work at the stores I shop in. (It has happened to me for years, and I don't really understand why.)

This woman was working at the register and I could definitely feel she was staring at me. I was not the only person in the store, but I could tell she was very intent to watch me as I shopped around the carousel of sunglasses . There wasn't much to choose from as it was, but this woman made me feel so uneasy, that I ended up buying any pair just to get out of the place. When I finally made it to the cash register, she started talking to me, and was pleasant enough, but she still had that weird look in her eyes. It wasn't her appearance, but it was in the way she looked at me, like she knew me for some place or somewhere. She had a sort of blankness in her eyes, and when I explained why I needed glasses (she made a comment about the glasses), she responded with a very serious tone of voice, and went on to say that she always wanted to work on that ride because of all the lost items that are thrown off and lost, but, she then said that my glasses were probably somewhere broken by now with a concerned look on her face. I wanted to tell her that I could care less because they were a cheap pair of $10 sunglasses, but I just wanted to get out of there and not invite more conversation with this weird woman.

I'll have to remember to put my sunglasses in the net in front me on the ride next time, and not look into the eyes of Medusa. This woman at the gift shop wasn't really rude, she just reminded me of a zombie from that movie, the Night of The Living Dead. Her eyes were missing a certain brightness and soul to them. She was just plain spooky. "Come back again!" she called out. I don't think so...

Doris

2011-02-28T13:02:00.000-08:00

(This entry has nothing to do with the lovely Doris Day, but if my GPS system was personified, she would be a lot like her....so may be this entry has a lot to do with Doris Day...you to decide...)

Driving home from L.A. in afternoon traffic, a black convertible sports car whizzed past, blasting Madonna's "Material Girl." The driver of car was a bald African American male, with large sunglasses talking loudly on his blue tooth. His license plate read: 1FunGuy I tried to get past him in traffic to take his picture, but the traffic did not allow it. He must have turned off at an exit, never too be seen again.

I should have known better to leave Disneyland after 2 pm, but I was hoping that a holiday Monday would be lighter in traffic, but of course I was wrong. It seemed that everyone had the day off, and that everyone was either enjoying the dry weather, or on their way home from the long weekend like we were.

"Extreme traffic ahead, recalculating..." my GPS woman exclaimed this almost every 5 miles throughout our journey out of the city. Can you say irritating? Nothing would shut that .itch up..

Let's call GPS woman, Doris.

I have a love/hate relationship with Doris. Sometimes she gets me to where I need to be, and I am very thankful for her company, but there are often times where Doris directs me to places that I shouldn't be, or don't want to be, and places that I never knew existed.

While in Marina Del Rey, Doris took us to a non-existent movie theatre, located in the middle of a lovely condominium duplex, one wrong exit, and a closed restaurant. There was a moment there where I was very tempted to throw Doris out of the window, but I didn't. I think Doris needs to be updated--it really isn't her fault. She does take me to the right place most of the time, but there was a moment there when she directed me off of Hwy 5, to an exit in L.A., looking over the city, where I seriously feared for the lives of myself and my innocent children. It was like being in an episode of Southland. I expected to see gun shots exchanged, or a high speed police chase happen in front of me. AND, still there was that exit Doris directed me to take because of more "extreme traffic" warnings, where she directed me away from Hwy 5 yet again, to avoid the Grapevine, where I found myself driving through Palmdale, onto Hwy 138--Avenue D.

Lovely Avenue D

Avenue D - Highway 138 proved to be a stretch of 38 miles through the middle of nowhere. It's a lovely road of nothing on both sides, only road kill, abandoned vehicles and little more. True there were a few ranch homes there, and some lovely hills in the background, but nothing else. In my daughter's words, "It's a place you are brought to be shot and left for dead." It was also a place where people apparently had abandoned many vehicles. We counted quite a few and we drove past. Who knows what or who was inside of them.. If it wasn't for the fact that I did have a full tank of gas, and had my vehicle fixed and checked beforehand, this place would make me very, very nervous. It's not a place you want your car to break down on.

Highway 138, Avenue D (D for Dead or D for Doris?) is a two lane highway, with slow trucks. One must pass the trucks to go faster---and, yes, I did. I passed 4 trucks, and I swear one of those trucks sped up when I was trying to pass it. Luckily, it was still daylight out, and I was not alone. Seemed like other vehicles with corrupt GPS systems, such as Doris, had directed other motorists in the same direction. It made me feel better while I was dodging trucks to know that I was not alone. I didn't know later that this stretch of highway had nicknames like "blood alley" but I could understand why. After finally getting off of Avenue D, back to Hwy 5, I was very tempted to throw Doris out the window so she could meet her own demise, but I don't throw expensive toys out the window, and it's the only thing that saved her.

My Afternoon At Sears Optical

2011-02-15T11:47:00.000-08:00

The other day I had the great honor of taking the Queen mother (my mom) to the optometrist at Sears. Wow, it was quite an experience! I couldn’t believe the characters we ran into at that place. There must have been a week of a new moon, because the people we encountered there were out of the ordinary. My mother and I spent a good portion of our time just sitting there in the lobby taking it all in, sometimes laughing and snickering in Portuguese. (Knowing a second language comes in handy sometimes.)

My mother immediately pointed out one customer that looked like the cartoon character, Peter Griffin from Family Guy. I was surprised how quickly my mom made that connection. I was unaware she even watched Family Guy. My mom is just full of surprises! This guy WAS in fact a dead ringer for Peter Griffin! He had the hair, the clothes, the glasses, only difference is he was wearing Birkenstocks with blue turquoise socks. Okay, he was a Santa Cruz version of Peter Griffin. Of course, guess who got to sit across Peter Griffin in the lobby while my mom got her eyes tested? Yes, I did, and wow, I quickly learned that Peter was quite the conversationalist! Lucky me!

It wasn’t long until two other cartoon characters walked in. This time, it was Hank and Dale from King Of The Hill, personified. Both of them walked in wearing glasses and high rise wrangler jeans. They were wearing t-shirts, tucked into their jeans, both revealing a pair of swollen beer bellies. All that was missing was a can of beer in each hand, and a cigarette hanging out of Dale’s mouth. My mom and I exchanged glances at one another, and tried our best not to burst into laughter. It wasn’t as much as their appearance, but the way they approached the lobby. They slowly entered the lobby like deer caught in the headlights. It was very strange. They were apparently both on a mission.

We all got an ear full of their “mission” while I politely conversed with “Peter” while my mother was getting her eyes tested. We overheard, “Hank” complaining to the salesman, as he tried to bargain on a price for a new pair of transitional lens glasses for his brother, “Dale”. Apparently, he “bought his brother a pair with his Sears charge card three years ago, and the lenses aren’t turning into sunglasses when he goes outside no more…” Let’s just say Hank was not amused with the price to replace his brother’s glasses.

“He is actually bargaining with the sales clerk!” exclaimed Peter.

The atmosphere was getting a little heated before the salesman got on the phone to speak to the manager. Meanwhile another guy walked in to pick up a pair of glasses. This guy looked like Elmer Fud. He wasn’t wearing a hunting cap, but I wish he had been because he had this large dry scab on the top of his bald head. The sales girl couldn’t find his second pair of glasses, so Elmer sat there, waiting for the salesman to get off the phone. He went on to chat to the poor girl, telling her stories of how he had already out-lived his parents, and how he saved himself from drowning in a creek. He never said anything about his head injury, and I’m quite surprised he didn’t because it looked rather serious, and I would have thought he wanted to impress the girl with yet another story about how he had gotten it. May be it’s from when he “saved himself” from drowning in that creek. May he hit a rock?

Well, meanwhile, Hank and Dale finally got the negotiated price they hoped for the glasses, and Hank’s voice went down a few notches. Dale said nothing. I don’t think he even spoke once. What seemed to be eternity, my mom finally got out of the exam room, and Peter Griffin finally went inside with his turquoise socks.

My mother chose a nice pair of Sophia Loren glasses. After waiting 15 minutes for the sales clerk to finally find my mom’s prescription for the glasses that were right there at the register, he sat down with us and it wasn’t long before he was pitching to my mother the wonders of transitional lenses. By this time, we were tired of hearing about these glasses---Hank and Dale’s situation did not help the cause. I guess this sales clerk was a little disappointed when my mother said no to them. She had to tell him three times before he finally got a clue. This sales clerk had a very stuffy nose, that he was constantly clearing while he sat with us. It was not pleasant. Let's call him, Sneezy.

Sneezy explained that he had some kind of disease (he explained what it was, but I don't remember) that made his sinus’stuffy, and eyes water. Too much information. I think he was trying to impress me. He kept on asking for my name, telling me that I could pick the new glasses on Valentines Day. Wow. The waving of my left hand with my wedding ring, did not phase him. He did fix my mom’s old glasses though—I will give him that much. Apparently the reason why my mother has been feeling dizzy, and why her handwriting has been a little messy lately isn’t because her prescription was too old, it was because the person who put them in last put them upside down. Mystery solved!

After 3 hours at Sears, we finally left the building. The people we met that day unfortunately will be remembered for a long time. No, I did not go pick up the glasses on Valentines Day. The glasses are still there.

Annoying Friendly, Hippy Guy...

2011-02-08T11:09:00.000-08:00

It’s been awhile since I’ve written about the gas station next door to my office building. Well, it’s still there, and there is this guy there who doesn’t work at the station, but shows up ever so often to chat with the cashier that works there. This guy kind of gives me the creeps. It’s not because of his appearance, his stringy long white hair, and hippy attire doesn’t bother me, but his constant conversations do. I don’t know if he works around the building or what, but he apparently has a lot of time to kill, and he is just a little too overly friendly for my taste. He won’t touch you or anything, but he will try and start a conversation each time I walk into the door with a little compliments, like, “Boy you look pretty today!” or, “What a pretty dress!” “You have beautiful hair!” Leaving me to think, okay, this guy is just a little too friendly. What does he want? I just try and let it slide and not read into it too much, because I’m not interested at all in getting to know this guy, and I hope he isn’t wanting to get to know me. I just say thanks, and try to leave the place as soon as I can without looking obvious that I am trying to leave the place as soon as I can, because I don’t want to come across being annoyed with the guy, when I really am. Make sense? Why do I care so much if I come across as being rude or mean? Why? I’m not the one being annoying---he is. But, no, he won’t let me leave so fast, until he asks where I work, and how my day is going. Really? What makes some people think they can just randomly ask strangers questions about their lives? I mean, I don’t want to sound mean, but is it really appropriate for people to just try and jump into other people’s lives and ask personal questions about their lives when in reality they don’t even know your name? Well, fortunately, he doesn’t know my name. If he asks, I’ve decided to call myself “Sally”. Anyway, he reminds me of a woman I know, (a completely different blog entry) who is equally annoying, and I wish she worked in the building so I could introduce them both to each other. They would make a nice annoying hippy couple.

Just some rambling thoughts..

2011-02-02T11:49:00.001-08:00

When I was younger, I went to a trade/business school and earned a diploma for Travel and Airline. I never pursued this career because, at the age of 20, life was moving faster than I had originally planned. I found myself suddenly married, (the guy I met the previous summer left his homeland and family to marry me), and we were still living in my parents home, both of us looking for employment. Two years later, we actually both had two decent, good paying jobs, moving into our place and paying a mortgage, and my first born, Elizabeth was on the way. I had landed a great secretarial government county job, with insurance, and my dad told me to “never leave it” because I was “set for life” there. Well, guess what? 23 years later, I’m still working there.

If I were to leave where I worked, I don’t think my diploma for Travel and Airline would be worth much today. I’m guessing ticketing procedures have changed in the last 20+ years.. There was a time when I wanted to be a travel agent, or work on a cruise ship. But do people really use travel agents anymore? In this day in age, most everyone books their vacations online. I used a travel agent for my last vacation, and I really don’t know why. The travel agent proved to be pretty useless to us when it came to the seating arrangements on the plane. The whole purpose of booking a flight with my mother was so she wouldn’t be flying “alone” and after explaining this fact over and over again, our agent still seated my mother 5 rows ahead of us. She also booked my 6 year son’s seat two rows ahead of mine, which didn’t make much sense either. Thankfully we got to the airport on time, and we were able to change at least my son’s seating. As for my mom’s seat, she sat by an older gentlemen, ahead of me, and I could see only the top of her head. I went down the aisle a few times to make sure she was alive because she hardly moved from her seat!

I heard the other day that JCPenny was getting rid of their catalogue, and this made me sad. I remember when we had the Sears catalogue AND even the Montgomery Ward (aka Monkey Wards) catalogue growing up---both gone as well. They were all a source of great entertainment for me as a child. I made countless paper dolls from them, and even glued them to cardboard. They interacted with my Barbie dolls, and were the “one dimensional neighbors” that lived down the street, that never sat down. (When you are glued to cardboard, it is very difficult.) Now JCPenny catalogue is going away, and there is even word that the Yellow Pages/phone book is going out the door. Seriously, I never use my phone book, and I think there are 3 years worth of them in my closet, but I remember sitting on them when I was a child at the kitchen table. Sigh….

Every now and then, our kids will ask us an off the wall question that we just don’t know the answer to. My husband’s favorite answer is: “Look it up on the internet!”
Kids nowadays just don’t know how good they have it. I remember having to go to the library and using the copy machine to copy important information from books to complete my reports for school, and if that wasn’t available, I would go through Grandma Costa’s old prized encyclopedia collection from 1952. Can you still buy encyclopedias nowadays? I wonder…

I don’t know where I’m going with this entry…. Lots of changes are, and is going on, and I think I’m feeling a little burned and fed up in my current, old position. I think I need a change, but 23 years..damn---it all went much too fast for me. Right now, all I want to do is leave the office and finish reading a book.

Just Another Tall Tale

2011-01-27T09:59:00.001-08:00

Earlier this week, I went to one of my son’s field trips at a local museum. I managed to get out of work earlier so I could meet up with him at lunch. I found a parking meter space behind the museum next to the park, and although it was a little far away, I was happy to get a parking space that wasn’t across the street near the highway off-ramp. When it was time to leave, and as we were walking towards our van, I noticed another silver, Nissan Quest van backing out of a parking spot, where I thought I had parked, and then drive swiftly away.

“Gee! I think someone just drove off in our van!”

Nicholas and I both raced up the sidewalk in a panic, until when we finally got a view of the rest of the parking meters, and OUR silver Nissan Quest parked right where I actually had it parked. What a relief! We both happily got into the van and drove for home, both laughing and joking about how scared we were. It was an exciting moment for Nicholas, and I guess he just had to “share” this incident to his teachers and classmates the next day.

Well, apparently Nicholas added a few embellishments to the story to make it more exciting for his listening audience. This morning I was greeted by one of the teachers who exclaimed, “Was your van really stolen on the day of the field trip?!” Yes, according to Miss Sara, one of Nicholas’ teachers, he had told the entire class that our van was stolen by a “gangster” and we had to take the bus home, and then had to go buy a new car. I looked over at Nicholas who had just got into the classroom. He was sitting there on the carpet, listening to us with a huge grin on his face. I explained to the teacher what really happened.

“Now, that was just a big fib on Nicholas’ part,” I explained.

“Yes, that was quite a tall tale!” Miss Sara exclaimed.

Luckily for Nicholas his teacher wasn’t too upset, nor was I. I guess it’s pay back time for the big tall tale I had told my own 1st grade teacher.

I still remember listening to my classmates talk about their younger siblings. I could not contribute to their conversation, because I was the youngest in my family, with an older brother and sister, until one day, I decided to make my life a little more interesting. I announced to everyone that I indeed also had a baby brother. I told them how my mom had recently had a baby, and for a few days there, I found myself the center of attention. Each morning my poor teacher, Miss Maxwell would ask me how my “baby brother” was doing. And each morning I would reply shyly, “Fine..” Finally I felt like I had something in common with my other classmates, and we exchanged “cute little stories” about our cute little baby brothers and sisters.

How was I to know that my teacher and my mom would eventually run into each other at the local TG&Y? I remember it like it was yesterday; there was Miss Maxwell cornering my poor unsuspecting mother in an aisle in the store, congratulating her on her “new arrival.” I remember hiding in the soap aisle, and running to the front of the store just when I heard my mother exclaim jokingly with a sweet Portuguese accent, “Baby!? What baby? I didn’t have a baby!” I rushed into the car where my father was patiently waiting and sat there with him in silence. My mother wasn’t very pleased, because she felt embarrassed for my teacher, and I avoided all eye contact with Ms. Maxwell for days. I never spoke of my “baby brother” again. It was a good thing because I was running out of stories.

2011....helloo...

2011-01-03T18:46:00.000-08:00

It's January---a new month, a new year...hopefully one full of inspiration. Who knows, may be I'll be inspired enough this year to write more?

I've heard the questions: When, Julie, when will you be writing "that book?" I've been haunted by this question over and over again.. It's like a dog gnawing slowly on the same old leather shoe, everyday. The shoe laces are shredded, and that old poor hound dog is looking at me with those big soulful sad eyes, that tell me.. "Julie...enough already..I'm tired." I question myself. I wonder if I can accomplish it. I also wonder if I'm ever going to finish that black and white striped blanket that I started last year for my daughter Lizzy. (Another resolution of mine.) Sometimes I wish I had more confidence in myself. Bad excuse, I know. I hear my sister-inlaw, Otilia somewhere in the background of my memory, the last summer I saw her, asking that very same question. Her eyes and voice full of excitement, she asked me about the book I was going to write, years and years ago. She had not forgotten after all those years. Her question surprised me, and caught be off guard, and at the same time, it saddened me. After all those years, how could I have forgotten? All those years she had believed it would happen, and with life, kids, and the chaos of everyday life put it all in the background, slowly further down the list of "to do's". Driving down to the city of Angra do Heroismo, with the kids in tow, off to get an ice cream at the port of Sao Mateus, I drove with my sister-inlaw on a summer afternoon. Little did I know it would be the last day I would ever see her. Believe me, driving past her house this summer, seeing the windows closed, the curtains hanging there motionless, with no life inside was difficult to see. If I had known, there would have been more summer afternoons of ice cream and drives to the city.

I think changes are in the horizon for me this year. Good changes..not drastic go blonde changes, but I may come across a little bit more selfish to some people. I may surprise you, or I may not. I'm taking my priorities more seriously this year, so you may or may not see a change. But, I vow to say NO more often, and perhaps I may even drink more wine. So I raise a glass to you and yours. May this year be the year of resolved resolutions! May your year be filled with happiness and peace, and may you all have a good time!

Be good to yourself.

It's December 1st..and who is Miguel de Vasconcelos..

2010-12-01T18:37:00.000-08:00

It's the last month of the year...unbelievable as it may seem, the year is almost over. It's been a busy few months, and with Christmas coming up, even more busy. Today I took the afternoon off and took my mom to do some shopping. It's the first time she has "shopped" in a long time, due to her cracked knee incident, but although she was a little slower, she was feeling no pain. My mother LOVES to shop, so it's good to see her back in her element, not slowing down. I thought she wanted to do some Christmas shopping, but she seemed more content shopping just for herself. (Looks like I'll have to take her shopping again a few more times..)

So, today is December, 1st. When my mother was growing up in the Azores, she had to learn about Miguel de Vasconcelos who died on this day in 1640. In the car, on our way home, she started to recite a poem about poor Miguel de Vasconcelos, but could only remember the beginning of it. Apparently, back then, children were expected to recite important dates in history by memory. My mom said that it was very difficult, and half the time the children didn't understand what they actually reciting, but the dates had to be correct, and wording exact in order to pass exams. Back then in the 1940's children were expected to finish the 4th grade at the very least, and graduate at age 10. My mom "graduated" a year behind at 11--due to her losing a year of school due to her being sick when she was 8, as I previously mentioned in my earlier blog entry. After graduation, you were given the choice of continuing your education and go to high school for another 6 years. Most girls her age completed the 4th grade, and stayed home where they were taught the "domestication's" of life such as sewing, crochet, embroidery, cooking, washing and ironing...etc. My mother loved to iron, but enjoyed theatre. My mother participated in various community activities, which included acting in various plays, which involved a lot of rehearsing and dance routines...etc..etc.. My mother's father was a very well known playwright/poet on the island, who wrote various plays (dancas) and who died in his 30's when my mom was a baby. He would organize and direct plays, with my mother in his arms. Naturally many people expected my mom to continue in his footsteps. Although my mom was unable to know her father, her mother told her endless stories of him, and she was raised by a loving step-grandfather, who just happened to have been her father's best friend. My step-grandfather was also a first cousin to my paternal grandmother--but, that is another story. My mom sang, danced, and was told by a distant cousin, who had seen her perform, who was visiting from America that if she had been born in the U.S. she would have been another Marilyn Monroe. I think my mom wishes she hadn't disclosed this information (she has been teased about it quite often,) but back then, my mom at 13 my mom didn't think there could have been a better compliment.

My mom is the the second to the left, as a bridesmaid, 1948. If you look closely at the bottom right, you'll see a young man with a tie, and a older man below where the wedding party is posing. The young man would follow my mother everywhere wishing to be her boyfriend and future husband. If my dad hadn't showed up a few years later, according to my mother, that young man would have gotten his wish.

Okay, so what happened to Miguel de Vasconcelos on December 1, 1640? I just had to look it up:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miguel_de_Vasconcelos

Just A Coincidence...

2010-11-20T08:31:00.000-08:00

I'm finding that the only time I have to post nowadays are Saturday mornings, when the house is half asleep, and I have my morning coffee at my side. My husband Rich is sitting on the couch watching his recorded T.V. programs, and I'm tapping away on the computer. Quiet uninterpreted time. Before I hear: "Mommy!" I better continue while I can.

Earlier this week my cousin, Carlos--the college professor, historian and writer, posted the above picture on his wall on Facebook. Carlos is the little boy in the picture. He is standing between my mother who is looking to the right, and his mom, Fatima. The woman on my mother's left, holding on to her arm, is Fernanda, a family friend, and the woman on the other side of Fatima, is my dear aunt, Aida. I had never seen this picture before, so I printed it out and showed it to my mom, the first chance I could get.

The story behind this picture is interesting to me. According to my mom, this picture was taken at Fatima's house before my mother was married to my dad--she is about 18 here, and the man behind the camera is my father. I find this very interesting because my dad had just met my mom for the first time when she was 15, so this was taken during his second military stop on the island three years later while wooing my mother with love letters. I guess my mom finally wrote him back before this picture was taken. My dad would write letters to my mom in English, and her cousin, Fatima's husband, would translate them to her. After many unanswered letters, I guess my mom finally responded! Fernanda started visiting my mom more often after my mom starting "dating" my father because her father was a cousin of my dad's, and would accompany him sometimes with her dad for visits. I guess she was like a sort of chaperone? In the 1950's that was the norm. The year must have been early in the year, 1953? It would explain the winter clothes, and why my mother is wearing her "blue gabardine" coat. My mom went on to explain that during that time, she was fulfilling her mother's "promesa" and was wearing her white dress underneath.

My grandmother's promesa: When my mother was 8 years old, she became extremely ill. I'm not sure what type of sickness she was ailing from, I just know that it was a fever that eventually sent her to the hospital. As a result of the fever, my mom lost all her hair. My grandmother was understandably upset, she had lost two babies previously before my mom was born, and her own husband had died when my mom wasn't even a year old. My mom had actually stopped breathing at one time in her home, and the doctor who was visiting at the house pronounced her dead. This sent my grandmother running out of the house into her garden crying for a miracle to the Virgin Mary to save her daughter. Believe what you may, but the doctor met her outside, and told her that my mom was breathing again, and that is when she was sent to the hospital. The doctor who was tending my mom called it nothing less than a miracle. As a result, my grandmother then made a "promesa" : a promise to the Virgin that my mom would wear a white dress and blue ribbon (what the Virgin Mary wore when she appeared in Fatima, Portugal). My mother would have to wear this attire for approximately one year in Mary's honor.

Well, years when on, and my mother never full filled her mother's promesa, so finally at 18, my mother decided to wear the white dress and blue ribbon for a year. She didn't want to fulfill her promesa when she was a married woman. Her God-Mother also made a promesa to Santa Teresa, which involved wearing a brown dress for a year (an idea that my mom did not like at all), but the village priest gave her permission to only fulfill one promesa. My father must have seen her wearing her white dress and blue ribbon, but had forgotten about it until many, many years later, when my father was in the hospital, and was, in the hospital nun's own words: "At the gates of heaven." He came back from being out of consciousness, to tell my mom that he had seen her wearing that white dress and blue ribbon in his dreams. My mom was astonished. My dad had been so forgetful lately, he could hardly remember where he last put his shoes, to remember something that happened 40 years previous, was incredible. It did give my mother peace of mind that things were going to be alright, which prompted her to make her own promesa, but that is another story.

Will post again soon---I need to make breakfast now!

The Madness Begins!

2010-11-12T09:43:00.000-08:00

Unbelievably, the year is coming to an end. It's that time again where the stores are stocking up on their Christmas supplies of wreaths and stockings, and sweaters and coats. I took a little trip to the mall yesterday, and it was nice to see all the left over Halloween decorations finally taken down. Christmas is everywhere at the stores now---the commercial Christmas anyway. I found myself going down the aisles with my cart at Target, looking at all the "necessities" of the holiday season, wondering to myself, "Should I start shopping for Christmas? Should I stock up on these cute little stocking stuffers before they run out?" The anxiety has started, and it's a cruel game the retailers are playing! And it's not at the store either, it is at home as well! My mailbox was filled with sales magazines and coupons of important "DO NOT MISS SALES", and all of them have deadlines! My computer email has 230 messages, most of them from telling me the same, with the subject matter starting with: "Hurry! Sales Ends Soon!" or "Don't Miss This One!" It's getting a little overwhelming.

I confess, I bought two presents already. I'm just waiting for the Christmas paper that I bought from my son's Christmas fund raising drive to arrive so I can start wrapping. But where I'm I going to put them once I do? I don't have a tree yet, but I bet those neighbors that live two blocks away, who have their Christmas lights up already, have theirs up! (crazy people--wait until Thanksgiving--I still have pumpkins and scare crow on my porch, you are making us all look bad!) I probably have some wrapping paper in the attic though, along with my boxes and boxes upon boxes of Christmas stuff. I stopped myself from buying some REALLY cute Christmas plates yesterday. They are still on my mind: The smiling Santa Christmas candy dish is still calling out my name, and the snowman cookie dish, and those cute little Christmas tea kettles-the Christmas tree one, and the one with a squirrel... They are still on my mind, and it's driving me crazy... I confess.

What happened to just a nice simple Christmas? No deadlines...no madness, just plain old fashioned fun, and spiritual joy?

I remember one of those long ago. Let's go back to 1981, shall we? It was the year I took the picture at the top of this page. That year we spent Christmas in the Azores, and I remember the simplicity of it like it was yesterday. The choir group from the church would come to our door, with their violins and guitars and sing for "Menino Jesus" (baby Jesus), and we would give them all sweets and liquor. And we would eat sweets and liquor, and everyone had rosy cheeks and big smiles on our faces! It was apparent that they were purposely following my sister around, so there were many giggles; it was pretty humorous. (No one knows what happened to that secret love powder she lost in the church the Sunday before---that is another story in itself.)

It was a nice, cold Christmas that involved old fashioned values--like being with family, going to mid-night mass, opening a few presents around the tree, and later celebrating the new year, dancing until 3 am in the morning, and getting really dizzy from too much champagne. I still remember seeing my mother's room spin on New Years Day, and I think the neighbors rather enjoyed are laughter at 4 am, even though we apparently woke them up. It all gave them something to talk about the next day. We were there for their entertainment. We went to my cousin's high school dance in the city of Angra, and I wore the gold stitched burgundy shoes my mom got me for Christmas, along with that creme colored, gold stitched, gold belted, dress. (It was 1981/82 gold stitching was IN back then--if you wore it you were automatically cool, okay. OH, and if you wore Lois jeans, you were even cooler.) You remember these details when you are 15 years old--back then they seemed to be very important. I didn't get to dance with the guy I had a huge crush over because apparently he went to another dance looking for me there. Sorry, Luis... Oh well, but I got to dance with the cutest guy I've ever seen on the island. His name was Silvano, and little did I know he was my ex-husband's very best friend. I didn't know my ex-husband at the time--oh well, small island. It was just one dance, and a nice kiss on New Years Day, and good thing, cause later I learned he got in trouble with the law that sent him to prison. OH well, a pretty face isn't everything is it?

I have no idea why I'm remembering all that right now, but it sometimes is fun to look back. It was the first Christmas we spent without my dad or my brother around, and that was pretty sad, but my father sent us all cards-which was very unlike my him. He must have missed us very much that year. My father never was a very sentimental person, until he got much older, but I made a point of keeping that card. We didn't have a phone at the house--we would have to go to a cousins house or my aunts house to make a call, no internet, only the mail that usually didn't get there until 3 weeks later. People just don't send letters in the mail anymore. If you sent me a letter, I probably have it still. It was a bittersweet Christmas, but it was nice, and no one really cared what they got, as long as there was some gold stitching somewhere. I remember going shopping with my sister for a gift for my mom, and we found her a really beautiful scarf with blues and greens, and white polka dot, along with gold stitching... My daughter found it later in a drawer somewhere, and she likes wearing it now. See---gold never goes out of style.

Sigh... Looking back on all this is keeping me sane today. I swear, I'm not going to shop online for the rest of the day, no matter how BIG the sale is, even if I can save over 60% on select clearance items. No, I refuse. Black Friday is swiftly approaching. Are you going? Are you going to be part of the madness? Are you going to stand in line at 4 am in the cold for the doors to open? Or are you going to sit in the glow of your computer monitor? I may just wake up the neighbors and watch the room spin--I haven't seen it do that for awhile now.

Footsteps From Beyond

2010-10-31T12:53:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween everybody!

I've decided to re-tell a true family story that happened quite a few years ago. It didn't happen on Halloween, but it's still a little frightening. When my mother first told me it, I got chills and goose bumps all over. When you personally know the people involved in the story, it is even more bizarre, but lots of odd and unexplained things have happened in my family, so why am I really surprised by it, I don't know. Here goes--enjoy, and have a HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

It was a cold, rainy night, and Tia Rosa had just gotten all of her children to sleep. Her six children were restless that evening, and could not settle down, so Rosa decided to stay with them and sleep. She enjoyed being with her children that night because she was feeling lonely. Evenings like these were especially hard for Rosa. She had lost her husband only the year previous, and the nights were still hard and she felt more alone than ever when the children were feeling restless. She knew that they could sense her own fears and doubts of raising them all alone, without their father at her side.

After finally kissing her children goodnight, she started reciting her rosary, softly sobbing to herself. Understandably it wasn't the first time she had done this. At the end of the day she often felt overwhelmed with life. Her children gave her the strength to carry on during the day, but the nights were sometimes unbearable. She cried out to husband, like she would often do, and prayed that one day he would respond to her. Perhaps he could give her a sign of hope that her situation would get better, that she wasn't really alone afterall.

She lay there upon her corn husk mattress, sobbing quietly, when suddenly she noticed a strange quietness come over the loft. The soft rain that was tapping on the window had suddenly stopped, and now the moon shone into the room more brightly than before. The familiar sound of the crickets outside ceased. Rosa found herself feeling an uneasiness now, and she got up to shut off the small kerosene lamp sitting on the night stand, cautiously getting back into her bed, not to wake the children. Laying there, she listened to the quiet, waiting for the crickets outside to continue their evening song. The sound of the crickets helped her sleep But, there was she heard nothing.

The sudden quiet made her feel more uneasy and perplexed. She was almost tempted to wake her oldest son, to only break the silence, but at the same time, she did not want to get out of bed. A sense of foreboding seemed to surround her in the room. Had her prayers to her dead husband been heard? She wondered, and trembled with the thought under her blankets. She tried to lay there in the quiet and sleep, until finally the silence in the room was broken. Something outside had caught her attention. She could hear a noise of some kind coming from outside.

She soon realized she was hearing the sound of footsteps, coming from the mouth of the road in front of her home. They were loud footsteps and they sounded as if they were stomping intentially in the puddles of mud left by the rain. They were deliberate footsteps of someone slowing marching outside, with a distinct slight drag in its step. She could distinctly recognize the footsteps, of a man-a man with a limp, very similar to the footsteps of her late husband.

Rosa could not believe what she was hearing or thinking! She tried to dismiss her fears, and tried to think rationally. Surely, it was not her dear husband Francisco! It must be a neighbor outside coming home from work, or perhaps it was a neighbor who loved to spend a late night drinking, or may be it was a large dog, or may be again it was all in her imagination; all in her head. Then again, may be it was all a dream. Perhaps she had fallen asleep and had not realized it. Rosa tried to relax, and decided to gather her rosary beads and recite her Hail Marys to calm her mind.

The footsteps did not cease however. From the sound of them, they had finally reached the front of her house. Rosa stopped her praying and waited patiently. She waited for the footsteps to walk past her house to her neighor Isabel's door. Rosa held her breath in silence. The footsteps continued. They did not proceed to her neighbor's door, but instead, they were heading down the walk way of Rosa's house, past the small veranda, heading slowly towards the kitchen door.

Rosa continued to pray, this time more loudly than ever, her rosary beads falling from her trembling fingers, until they finally fell onto the ground. Rosa quickly made the sign of the cross on her chest, and desperately called out to the Virgin Mary. She pleaded for the footsteps to stop, until suddenly, Rosa felt paralyzed with fear. She could no longer speak, her trembling lips were open, and her voice had all escaped her. Rosa fell under utter shock, as the footsteps slowly made their way to the kitchen door. The knob of the locked door turned effortlessly, and it was now in the house, in Rosa's kitchen. The door closed quitetly, and the steps continued towards the loft.

Rosa quickly surveyed the room around her. Her children were all sound asleep, their angelic faces undisturbed by what was happening around her. Rosa was terrified! She called out to the stranger, who had now made it's way up the stairs to the loft, and told him to leave her home.

"Be gone with you!" She called out. "For the love of the Holy Spirit, please leave my home!"

The footsteps continued up the stairs. Rosa then called out to her late husband.

"Francisco! If this is you, I now know you are now with me. Forgive me for doubting myself! If this is not you Francisco, please send this demon out of my home! For the love of our children, please leave us all in peace!"

Rosa let out a scream, and covered herself with her blankets. The footsteps were at the door now, and they were silent. Her children were quiet, all was quiet. And suddenly, the cricket outside of her window broke the silence outside. The crickets song seemed to thunder throughout the room, to a point to where Rosa held her hands over her ears. The anxiety of the evening was too much for Rosa to bear and called out to the Virgin for protection.

Following this, the sound of the footsteps again returned, but this time, they were rescending down the stairs. Slowly, proceeding down through the kitchen, out of the door, and back into the darkness. Gasping for breath, and in relief, Rosa continued to listen to the footsteps slowly leave her home, into the night towards the dirt road towards the river, stomping away in the wet mud outside.

Since that evening, Rosa never questioned her husband's prescence ever again. Although she never knew who had actually visited her that evening, she remembered the moment of peace she had felt early that next morning; a peace she had never felt since her husband's untimely death. The kitchen door was found locked that morning, and there was no evidence left on the floor of any visitor who may have come in from the rain. It may have been all a dream, it's true, but she was never certain. It was said she loved the sound of the evening crickets outside her window, and could not sleep at night until she heard the crickets sing.

Back to the keyboard..

2010-10-24T09:28:00.000-07:00

Whew...

It's been awhile, please forgive me.

I have been using this line quite often lately. What can I say? Life has been particularly busy lately. It's funny really.. When life seems like it can't get even better, I always hear a little voice in my head telling me, "Okay, this is too good. What is going to happen now to screw things up?" I try to tell that voice to shut up, but it has a way of forewarning me for the not so best situations. Well, all I can say right now, is life has thrown a curve ball, but things are getting better. Let's just say mom keeps our lives exciting. She is back home and doing much better, the full leg cast has been cut off and disposed of, and as of late she is sporting a much more comfortable knee brace. She won't be sporting high heels anytime soon however, but that is okay. Summer has come to an end, the "festa" lights have been dimmed, and it's time to brace for winter.

As you have noticed, I've finally changed my blog picture. Sorry Manny for keeping up your picture up so long! It wasn't my intention. Instead I've posted a picture that was sent to me by my cousin Adelaide's sweet daughter. She's the little girl sitting on the wall covering her ears. I'm wearing the red dress, with my son Andrew standing next to me. Yes, this picture is at least 12 or 13 years old, but my dad is in it, and he looks good. This was taken in 1999, the last summer we were there together. Weird how many years have passed, although it doesn't seem that long ago. I was single back then; thank God those years are over. Don't get me wrong, they weren't the worst of times by any means--they were just lonely times. After a year of being "free" and single, I decided to date again, and damn, did I meet some real losers--but, hey--that's in my past. What matters now is i'm with the right guy.

The past makes us who we are. If given the opportunity, I wouldn't change it. I love who I am today. Sure there were some missed opportunities that I should have taken perhaps. For example that one interview for a technical writer. Yeah, may be I should have taken up that. But I have a good excuse: The man who called had such a think Asian accent I couldn't understand him. He gave me the address for the interview, but I couldn't understand a word of it. That's my excuse, and I know it isn't a good one, but I didn't get a phone #. Oh well. I wanted to be travel agent back then. No, that didn't pan out either... Oh well..

Back to the picture: This was taken during the church procession in Vila Nova, Terceira at my cousin's house. It's a custom to take out your most beautiful and colorful blankets and display them out of your windows or walls and verandas when the procession passes by your home. Please note: This blankets were made in old fashioned looms back in the day when people made them by hand. These aren't the blankets people normally sleep with today-they are kept in closets and bunks and taken out only during the summer time. I'm not quite sure WHY this is a tradition there, but it's one of the customs of the island. If you happen to know, please inform me. I'm sure it has something to do with showing off your best linens out of respect. I know my mother always took pride in having the first house in her neighborhood to hang out the laundry on the close line each morning. Apparently that was a big deal in the neighborhood. People would judge you back then about how white your laundry was, and my mom was very proud of her good reputation. Times have changed, but not really. I swear that washing machine at her house back there was working 24/7.

I'm looking outside my sliding door window, and it's grey, windy and cold out there. A good day to do some laundry, pull out the blankets from the closet. A good chance and opportunity to REALLY get back to the routine!

Have a good week!

Aguas Vivas = Jellyfish!

2010-08-13T21:54:00.000-07:00

A jellyfish (agua viva) from the Azores. Basically, Agua Viva translate to alive water---due the transparency---hard to see in the water if you aren't paying close attention.

Is global warming the reason of the abundant amount of Cagarros and jellyfish to the island of Terceira? Some people think that it is, or it may be the result of the last large tsuami. From where I see it, it’s less chickens and more jellyfish!

At most all of the beaches and swimming spots on the island, you will see a large flag pole located at the center easily visible. The flag pole will have either a red, a green or yellow flag waving. Red indicates: lots of jellyfish. When you see a red flag waving, it’s best to stay out of the water, because the “salvadors do mar” (lifeguards) have spotted large quantities of jellyfish, aka: “agua vivas” in the water, and most likely more than one person has already been stung. If there is a yellow flag, it usually means, there were a few sightings of jellyfish, and to use caution. If you see a green flag waving, that means, no jellyfish sightings have been reported. Bottom line, however, don’t rely on the flag too much. If it’s green, that doesn’t mean it’s free and clear.

Sometimes the “salvadors do mar” just are too lazy to change the flag. The lifeguards we saw were a band of teenagers in bright yellow swimming shirts huddled together with their jellyfish nets and surfboards. They look especially cool wearing their Ray Bans, catching the summer rays. Now and then the would get up from their chairs, and actually go into the water, floating on their surf board, or walking near the water with their jellyfish nets on hand. Most of the time however, if a jellyfish is spotted, it's usually by a swimmer or by someone who just got stung. Once the lifeguard is alerted of the situation, he will change the flag, but again, that doesn’t always happen.

No one knows this better than “our friend” Roxanne. Roxanne made a surprise visit to the island, and stayed with us for a short time. Ironically, she was in the ocean for a period of time patrolling the waters for jellyfish, with a kind stranger she had befriended in the ocean. We all thought that Roxanne was looking for more than just a random jellyfish-if you know what I mean. Of course the man thought Roxanne was serious about getting “to know him better” as well, but Roxanne proved to be only a tease. We don’t know what Roxanne was thinking, because this guy looked like a very tan, plump, bald version of Elliot Goule. Whatever the reason, she was caught off guard and got stung not once, but twice by an agua viva on the two days we took her to the beach. May be it was due to the fact that poor Roxanne was very pale and her feet looked a little too appetizing for the jellyfish (agua vivas), or perhaps they thought she was one of their own? Whatever reason, she got stung, and the salvadors were less than sympathetic. They didn’t change the flag for her, but they did direct her to the numerous aloe plants surrounding the beach.

She was not the only person who fell victim to an agua viva! On the second day of the beach, Roxanne was more cautious, and stayed out of the water a little more and enjoyed the “sights”. One of the sights she was enjoying were the two men sun bathing to her right. Little did she know that those men she was admiring were in fact my ex-brother-in-laws. My cousin pointed them out to me, and while I and my son Andrew went over to talk to them, Roxanne volunteered to watch Nicholas in the water. Little did I know, her kindness would be rewarded by another sting of a agua viva. Of course I felt badly, honest I did. I could have offered Nicholas' assistance and have him pee on her sting, but I didn't my son would like the idea.

After I sat down helping her with more aloe plants, my ex-inlaws walked by and said goodbye in a hurry. Apparently another jellyfish had stung one of them on the chest. My poor ex-brother-inlaw was not very happy to say the least. That is when Roxanne confessed that she was admiring them from a far earlier. After she said this, I really didn’t feel too sorry for Roxanne. (I’ll have to write more about Roxanne in another entry-let’s just say it was an interesting visit.)

Still, the flag was still waving green, and the “salvadors” were still looking cool looking out into the ocean…

A Salvador do Mar, "hard at work..."

Cagarros - flying creatures that make weird noises

2010-08-11T19:23:00.000-07:00

I'm posting this because the first video I shared didn't have sound--kind of defeats the purpose, hey? Well, make sure my music on the side is on mute as well, or you won't be able to hear the Cigarros.

This video I found on YouTube--not mine, but the lady is right, they sound like "flying frogs"...

Chickens, Roosters & Cagarros….Oh My…

2010-08-11T10:45:00.001-07:00

Chicken and roosters are not as common as they used to be on the island. I remember distinctly there were a lot more here when I was a child. Both of my mother’s neighbors had a family of chickens, and often at times, when relatives and friends would visit us during the summer, there was always a “Tia” (aunt) of my mother’s who would either bring us a bag of sugar, or a chicken to give us fresh eggs in the morning. There was one chicken in particular that I was very fond of, I named her Jenny—but that is another story. Anyway, unfortunately, all of my mother’s Tias have since past away, and now I guess giving chickens is simply not done anymore. Whatever the reason being, they are still around, and the rooster still crows every morning starting at 4 am.

I know that the rooster crows at 4 am because I was always awakened by it every morning, at 4 am. This went on for the first two weeks of my stay. Apparently the rooster lived in the neighborhood, and it when it started crowing, the other rooster who lived on the other end of then neighborhood would then chime in afterwards. I swear these roosters were having a conversation among themselves. By 4:15 a third rooster from where I suspect was up the hill from my mom’s neighborhood would join it. The crowing would stop 10 minutes later, and then resume at 5 am. By the third week, I was so used to it, that I was able to sleep through it.

Yes it was hard to sleep sometimes at night. There were days that were so hot and humid, the kids wanted to go out at night to the beach and sit at the outdoor cafes, and grab a “galaos” “lattes”- it was our nightly ritual---galaos at midnight, sometimes later. You would be surprised how many people on the island are still out at night at that hour. We were definitely not alone. Coming home, afterwards, unable to sleep, and reading my summer reading selection: Anne Rice’s Interview With A Vampire, did not help of course. Oh yes, and don’t forget I was fighting a jet lag, of 7 hours difference from California time. Yes, I felt like a vampire, and would curse that rooster each morning at 4 am – I confess. If it wasn’t the rooster, it was my mother’s washing machine—but that is another story.

On the day we arrived to the island, my daughter and I decided to take a late night walk around my mother’s home in Vila Nova. It was a nice evening, and there weren’t very many people around, and I was kind of wondering why we were out there, but Lizzy insisted on exploring the little winding neighborhood streets, and I didn’t want her to go venturing out on her own. It was a nice, warm night under a full moon, and the sounds of the evening were soothing and a little unsettling…

We heard the dog barking madly across the street as we passed along side the tall cement wall of his backyard, and we could hear crickets, the soft clucking of hens, and the humming of the neighborhood street lights, and then out of no where we heard the strangest sound…

What was that?! I thought it was a goat at first, or may be a grunt of a pig, but it couldn’t be because it was coming from overhead. It had a strange alien like sound that I don’t remember ever hearing before! It sounded like…something saying: “Ke Hey, Ke Hey..” in a high pitched nasal voice. It kind of freaked us out, and we decided to head for home.

Later while watching fireworks on the 4th of July (there is an American military base on the island and we were able to watch fireworks) from my cousin’s porch we heard the sound again… “What is that sound?!” I asked my cousin, Adelaide. Apparently they are birds! They are called called “Cagarros”. (In Portuguese it closely resembles the word: cagado which is not a very nice word that basically means, someone who literally shit in his pants-excuse my vocabulary. They migrate to the Azores every spring and stay until winter. Like vampires, they usually only come out at night. They say that there has been more of them caused by the global warming problem. More cagarros AND more jellyfish--but that is another story I will write about next time.

I found this from YouTube, its from the RTP television station and it's taken from the neighboring island in the Azores, Sao Jorge. There was a rescue mission for "lost cagarros" and that is what the video is about. Hopefully you can see what the sound like by this video--enjoy!:

I Saved A Bird's Life Today

2010-08-08T13:00:00.000-07:00

A picture of Vila Nova in the early morning, from my cousin Adelaide's house.

One of the first things I noticed when arriving to Terceira were the birds. The island is full of them! They are constantly singing and chirping from early morning into the night. On any given day, close your eyes and listen to them. You would swear you were in a tropical forest. Just don't do this while walking down a steep hill. (I speak from personal experience.)

The birds are everywhere; in the trees, in the sky, perched on rock walls, telephone and electric poles, at the beach on the sand, in the park...everywhere. We are talking, pigeons, doves, seagulls, swallows, finches. I was surprised to see little birds "andorinhas" flying over in the sand. Surprisingly, I noticed there were more little birds at the beach than seagulls. I don't know if there is an over population of birds,, but we did notice an alarming rate of, "deceased" little birds on the roadways.

One pretty morning, I decided to join my daughter, Lizzy for a nice walk around Vila Nova (my mom's home village where we were staying). We went up the hill to my cousin Adelaide's house, and then past the church, and into the pastures, and then down the hill passing my aunt's house, towards my mom's. We made our trek up to the cousin's house first where we met Adelaide and her daughter, Beatriz who accompanied us on our "power walk", along with their dog, Nemo-a beautiful Dalmatian.

As we made our way around the neighborhood, we were met by various forms of farm life including chickens, goats, pigs, and horses, and of course cows. The island has an extraordinary population of cows, but that is another story that I will touch upon in another entry. They weren't all loose around the street mind you--they were all well kept in the backyards of some of the neighbors, with the larger animals grazing in the open volcanic rocked pastures. We walked past patchworks of green, squared off by decorated by blue and purple hydrenia rock walls up towards the small dairy plant at the top of the hill. During our walk I took in the fresh countryside, and got a whif of the fresh cow manured street. Despite the smell, it was a beautiful morning--one of those mornings when you find yourself wondering why in the world you forgot your camera at home, and regretting the lost opportunity all day long. Although we vowed to take these walks everyday, sadly, I think we only did this walk only a few times more. We had good intentions, but waking up early after staying up until 2 or 3 am, doesn't work very well..

As we made our way up to the dairy, and down the hill towards my aunt's house, I soon learned to walk on the left side of the road, rather than the right side. It is best to face oncoming traffic, than vice versa. Thankfully Adelaide alerted me to this early on. Motorists drive rather fast on these narrow country roads. Once we got to my aunt's house, sure enough there was my Tia Aidinha in the front yard with Uncle Manny, along with a little chirping bird standing near the side of street. It was chirping loudly and it seemed to be in distress! I have no idea how it got there because there weren't any trees around, but I knew it had to be moved from where it was standing or it would surely be ran over eventually. I couldn't just walk away and ignore it's little chirps! It may have been calling for it's mother, but it was alone, so I had to do something.

I took my dear Tia Aidinha's advice and scooped the little creature in the palms of my hands and carefully carried it into the garden of my Tia's front yard. There were flowers there, but nothing else, but there was a little ledge that I thought it might fall from, so I decided against leaving it there, so I scooped it up again and sat the little bird in the pasture next to my Tia's house, near the grape vines, and corn. It slowly made it's way downward into the pasture, and I was happy to see it's little wings fly down to where the grapes were. I don't know how safe and happy it would be down there, but at least he was away from the road, and near food. I hope it's still there, happily chirping away near the corn. I can only hope.

So I'm making note: I've added this event to my list of "Animals Saved". This little andorinha is right there under the gold fish I brought to life. Did I ever write about that? I stroked his little fin, until I saw it open it's little mouth, and put him in his clean fish bowl. Sure I forgot he was in the bath tub with no water when I was cleaning his bowl in the first place, but I did save it eventually.. Hopefully this will make up for all the baby chicks I squeezed to death as a child. (That is another story I'll write about later.)

Next time, I'll write about the chickens and the migrating birds that come here from America--who sound "like aliens".

Andorinhas

Flying the Friendly Skies to the Azores

2010-08-05T10:59:00.000-07:00

Our airline to Terceira - Sata Airlines, sister to TAP Airlines

We got to the Oakland airport an hour early than what was required, which really was a good idea since we avoided the long line of passengers and over-stuffed suitcases-we were not the exception. All I can say is that we were very thankful that my daughter's boyfriend came with us to the airport to help carry my mom's overstuffed suitcase full of shoes to the terminal--if he hadn't been there, I don't know what we would have done. I just don't understand why Oakland International is set up the way it is. You have to basically park your car, and lug all your luggage with you across the street to the terminal. We looked like a band of Gypsies--I'm not exaggerating. Even Nicholas was lugging a suitcase behind him on the crosswalk, and I don't know if you have ever noticed this before, but people going to the airport are not the most courteous people. They are all anxious, and in a hurry, and aren't very patient with you at crosswalks.

Anyway, we got ourselves at the terminal and got checked in. We said our tearful goodbyes to my husband and my daughter's boyfriend. I hate saying goodbye--not a good feeling. I knew my husband would be meeting us on the island three weeks later, but it is never easy, when you are flying so far away, and you begin to think of all the bad things that could happen, but try not to, but air travel can always be a little tense. Anyway, in our state of of sadness we of course passed our gate and found ourselves going in the wrong direction, lugging our carrier bags, and my mom's three purses. (Yes my mom has a thing for purses too.) I got stuck holding my son's skateboard the whole time at the airport, and Lizzy said I looked like I was a "skater girl" from behind, and kept on singer Avril Lavigne's "Skater Boy" the whole time. I liked the idea, even though I have never skated on a actual skateboard in my whole entire life.

We decided to go to the Mexican restaurant and kill some time at the airport and eat something, because we all knew that the airline food was not going to be very appetizing. We were right.

For some odd reason, the travel agent who promised me seats for my family AND MY MOM together on the plane GOOFED once again, and she had my mom sitting by herself 5 rows ahead of me. I was a little worried about how that would work out, but by the time we got on the plane, I noticed that I had a clear view of my mom up ahead of me. I could see the top of her head, and her gold shoes, and her matching gold purse. I helped her store her other two carry ons, and I was happy to see that she was seated by a nice younger guy. She seemed safe enough, and for a moment there I was happy that she wasn't sitting next to me. I know that sounds awful, but to tell you the truth the woman had been driving me crazy the past few days, and I think we both deserved a break from each other, if you know what I mean...

The trip to the Azores was a 10 hour adventure. After 5 hours in flight, we landed in Hamilton for about a hour(somewhere in eastern Canada), the plane was re-fueled, the flight crew was changed, and the toilets were inspected and cleaned, and then another 4 hour flight until landing in Terceira, Azores. During this course of flight we had the usual characters:

Character #1: "The guy who can't stop getting out of his/her seat."

Character #2: "The guy who can't stop calling for the stewardess"

Character #3: "The guy who can't stop talking"

Character #4: "The guy who won't stop blocking the aisle"

Character #5: "The guy who can't stop hovering over the passengers"

Character #6: "The guy who can't stop drinking"

Character #7: "The rude, the bad and the smelly" (my least favorite)

I've written about this experience before, and I should know the drill by now. But every trip surprises me. When you share a plane with 150+ strangers for 10 hours, you best be polite and friendly with them. I wish everyone followed the rule, but sadly, there are still people who believe the rule should not apply to them.

Character #1: This person will constantly get in and out of their seat non-stop! This person of course sits at a window seat, or in one of the middle seats. Fortunately for me, I sat with my kids, at the end, but I was witnesses to quite a few character #1's from where I was sitting. This person will go to the bathroom constantly, and can turn into a Character #5 very quickly. They can also become Character #7-nastiest of them all!

Character #2: I had this one in front of me. This woman was constantly calling the stewardess for various reasons, from "I'm too cold" to "I need an aspirin" to, "Where I can I find a good grocery store on the island?" Although the steward was very nice to her, I could tell by the end of the flight, by thelook on his face, he was more than overjoyed to see this woman finally get off the plane. I wasn't too fond of her either, because she kept on pulling her seat down and then up during the entire flight. I was surprised however when we had landed because she suddenly turned to me and complimented Nicholas for being such a good boy on the flight. Any compliment for my son Nicholas is truly treasured--believe me--that is another story.

Character #3: Most annoying! These people talk, and talk, and talk... Unfortunately, I had a few of these surrounding me. No wonder I can never fall asleep on these flights! There is always some annoying woman or man talking non-stop for 10 hours in my ear. They have always seem to have the most annoying high pitched voices, and they cackle like chickens. Call me anti-social, but I will not start a conversation with you if I don't know you. I'm on a plane, and I'm trying to sleep, and I don't want to hear about how many cows you own in Modesto or Turlock, and I am not interested to hear about all the family members you know on the island and whether or not we may be related. I had this woman talking non-stop to the guy next to her, and then she somehow convinced the guy to move from his seat so she could have her friend sit near her so she could talk more to her..

Character #4: The guy who blocks the aisle. I could go on and on about these people. They think it's necessary to stand in the middle of the aisle for no good reason. It doesn't matter if the stewards are trying to serve breakfast, lunch or dinner, they have to stand there like a statue. This is most annoying when they are standing by the video monitor, and you are trying to watch a movie, and their stupid head is just standing there near the screen. You want to throw a pillow at their head or something, and you try to stare them down, but they won't budge.

Character #5: The hovering people--oh my God. These people get out of their seats, go search a friend and stand there to talk to them non-stop. They will stand there, over you, just hovering like a hungry seagull, as they talk and talk and talk to their friend. I wish I took the picture of one poor victim to character #5. Poor girl had an aisle seat next to this guy who had a window seat. She was surrounded by 4 different men. One was standing behind her seat, the other was directly in front of her, and there was another guy who was seated in front of her who was standing over his seat. The poor girl was surrounded. What did she do? She was working on a crossword puzzle, listening to her Ipod. I stared in disbelief waiting for this poor girl to make at least one facial expression of dissatisfaction to her plight, but nothing. What a trooper! She must have been a true veteran of such trans-Atlantic flights--Ipod in hand-she was prepared!

Character #6: Yes, character #6 likes to drink. He drinks a lot-probably to calm his in-flight nerves. Fortunately for us, we didn't see much of these, but there was one guy who liked to visit the bar at the back of the plane. He wasn't too happy to learn that there are new rules that include a limit in alcoholic beverages to be served on the plane--especially two hours before landing. He settled on 7-Up eventually after being told more than 3 times that they no longer had more wine. Yes, character #6 can also be Character #1-because he/she is constantly in line for the bathroom as well. He can also become all characters simintaneously at the same time which can be quite scary! The stewards and stewardesses tried to make everyone happy however, with their constant walks up and down the aisle offering "cha" (tea) or "cafe" (coffee) in small little plastic cups...

Character #7: The rude, the bad and the smelly.. Yes, while standing in line to use one of the 3 working toilets on the plane, one woman thought she needed to use the bathroom more than I did, and literally tried to push me aside. I told her however, that I was in line, and I haltered her before she took my toilet. It amazes me how some people act in planes sometimes. I guess being in a plane for 10 hours makes everyone less polite, and smelly.. Why don't planes carry deodorant in the bathroom? Why? I mean, it would be so much better. Some people sweat like high heaven on planes--especially the characters #1, 3, & 4.. Please someone take note! The bathroom line is the worst. People will cut in front of you, and if you are so fortunate to be sitting near the toilets, you have the "pleasure" of hearing the conversations between the people who are waiting for the toilets. You also get to be hovered. OOhh..and let me not forget the RUSH to the toilets before the plane arrives on the final destination, when all the ladies have a need to run to the mirror and "pretty up" before they see their relatives at the airport.

After 10 hours of flight, how can anyone look good? Really? I tried to sleep as much as I could, but I think I only had 45 minutes sleep if any. I was constantly interrupted by the noise of the plane, and it's people. I tried different methods to sleep--even sleeping on my elbows, only to find two enormous red spots on my cheeks. Not very attractive. On average, everyone on the plane looked like hell.

After a round of applause once we landed on the island, we all bustled out of the plane, down the stairs to the bus that awaited us at the bottom of the runway. The bus would take us to the terminal where our passports would be stamped, and where the luggage was waiting for us. The first person we see at the bottom of the stairs was my niece Joana, who is an employee of the airline. Lizzy and Andrew were not expecting to see their cousin Joana directing them towards the bus. They both did double takes, and upon realizing who they both were, starting hugging and kissing.
It was a nice hello from such a long journey.

Once we got into our bus (there were two full buses loaded by the passengers of our plane), we got to look at the people we shared the last 10 hours with, and we all looked like hell, but it didn't' seem to bother the loved ones that were waiting for us at our final destination. We all got kissed and hugged just the same...

It's always fun to arrive to your final destination--especially when you have happy, pretty people waiting for you there.

My Island Chronicles...

2010-08-03T09:40:00.001-07:00

Lizzy, Andrew & Beatriz in Escaleiras - a natural ocean, swimming hole on the coast of Vila Nova
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Praia_das_Escaleiras,_Vila_Nova,_Praia_da_Vit%C3%B3ria,_ilha_terceira,_A%C3%A7ores.jpg

I purchased a small notebook from one of the neighborhood "vendas" (small mini mart type store) in my mom's village (Vila Nova), and in it I jotted a few stories and experiences of my visit. I confess that in one day I highlighted the first two weeks of my adventure, and the rest of my two weeks are still in nestled somewhere in my brain. Sometimes there just isn't time to write; there are far too many distractions, too many streets to climb, flowers to smell, clothes to hang, and sand to hide your toes in.

So, for the next few weeks, I will be making entries about my trip in Terceira. Please note that although I'm writing about it, I'm not really there anymore--although there are some days already, I wish I was.

Don't get me wrong--it's nice to be home, but when I'm there I'm always in "vacation mode". Who doesn't like living in vacation mode all year long? I couldn't really tell you how it is actually living there outside of vacation mode because I've never really experienced it, so please keep in mind that not everyone lives there as carefree as I interpret it. There are people who actually have 9-5 office jobs, and work the land...etc. Although, some people may argue why on earth shops close at 2 pm, restaurants close mid week..and why shop keepers and business men take hourly breaks to jump in the ocean for a swim, and take a coffee break.. The roosters crow every hour on the hour starting at 4 am, and like the crows, the church bells continuously ring accordingly until 22:00 hours - (10 pm). After awhile you realize that island life is pretty awesome--I won't lie.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading about my little adventures on the mysterious island of Terceira. Enjoy!

Back From The Rock...

2010-07-28T19:28:00.000-07:00

I'm back from the Azores; the island of Terceira, the birthplace of my mom, and my maternal and paternal grandparents, and their ancestors. I've been away on this island for the last four weeks, and there was no time to sit at the computer to type blog entries. Rather, my time was spent with family and friends near the rocky ocean side and sandy beaches, sitting in an outside cafe, walking along century old cobblestone city streets, and white and black mosaic sidewalks, glorious gardens and marble floored homes, bustling restaurants and nightclubs, and majestic steepled churches.

Terceira is an island belonging to the Azores; a nine island chain located in the mid-Atlantic. It is not known particularly as a tourist destination, nor is it written up very often as a place to be or be seen. It is a place that some people have never heard of, and it can't be found very easily on any world atlas, unless you pay real close attention. My eyes are drawn immediately to those nine islands. Whenever I see a map, or atlas, I must look for them. On some maps, they are only dots-unnoticeable, and unassuming, but to me they represent part of my world. These little specks mark my home away from home. It is the home of blue, white and purple hydrangea, black and white cows, rock walls, and green farmland, music, sweet wine, and the people I love.

I'm home now, and I'm happy to be back in California, the place of my birth. I missed my home and my day to day--I even missed doing my own housework. It's good to be back, but I miss the faces of the people I spent the last four weeks with. The tears shed at the airport are still fresh on my mind. Seeing the same tears streaming down the faces of my children as they said their goodbyes were bittersweet to me. They have their grandparents to thank, for they instilled in their children the importance of knowing these people we call family and the island. I have my parents to thank. Thank you for sharing your past with us so we can share Terceira to our children. For this I will be forever thankful.

I'm now feeling refreshed, with my luggage filled with souvenirs, and a heart full of new memories of the good times shared. I'll be back with the stories soon...

P.S. The month of August is for my cousin, Manny whose picture is posted under my blog title. He is pictured here with a lovely Portuguese mannequin who he met at Caneta - a lovely restaurant in Altares. He told me that he often reads my blog, and likes listening to my music I have on my Playlist. Apparently, he is one of my biggest fans - so, Manny - this one is for you!

It's June---this month is going way too fast...

2010-06-12T07:31:00.001-07:00

Rich and I at his nephew's graduation picnic in May.

I'm not going apologize for not writing an entry as quickly as I should, because that is all I seem to write about in each of my entries.. It's getting old! You know you have a problem when you actually FORGET your login password to Blogger, huh?

Well, it's official! School is out for all my children! Nicholas has graduated from Kindergarten and is officially a 1st grader since Thursday! Since this important milestone, Nicholas has had a few questions and concerns. Here are a few that he disclosed last night: "Mommy, now that I'm in the first grade, does that mean I have to get rid of any of my stuffed animals?" I assured him that no, he did not have to get rid of any of his toys, and that he could keep as many stuffed animals on his bed as long as he felt he could share his bed with them. Then, after tucking him in bed, he gave a look of deep concern, and with a sigh he said: "Mom, I just don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Do I need to decide soon?" I tried my best not to laugh, but reassured him that he had many years ahead of him to make that important decision. He responded this way: "Well, I guess I'll be a mail man." You heard it first folks---my son is going to be a mail carrier!

My older son Andrew has other inspirations. Now that he is out of school, his interests are mostly into his music. He has actually been approached by a local agency (we aren't talking major contracts or anything folks, but it's a start) who wants to produce his music, so now he is working on a demo CD with original soundtrack. His school work was taking a backseat to the music, but his lowest grade this semester was a C, so I'm pretty happy...you can't complain when your kid brings in a report card with 3.6 grade average, can you? So, yes I'm proud of my him. He is looking forward in performing in the Azores this summer...the legacy lives on. Of course my mother is claiming that he has her genes in the entertainer department.

I don't know if I ever mentioned this but my mom was quite the performer on stage in her village. When she was a teenager, a cousin of a relative of ours that was visiting from the States told her that if she was in the U.S. she would be the next Marilyn Monroe. When you are told this when you are 14 years old, it kind of stays with you, and of course she loved telling us this fact to her children while we were growing up, and my daughter Lizzy just thinks it's the most hilarious thing she has ever heard her grandma say. Lizzy loves to disclose this little tidbit of trivia to everyone, and of course my mother denies it all sometimes out of shyness. It is pretty funny to hear her deny it when we all have heard her say the story one million times before.

My mother is all packed and ready to go to the Azores. She has packed EVERYTHING and will only wear the clothes she has left in her closet. There are plenty of clothes in that closet along with dozens of shoes, so I think she'll be okay. She was in desperate search for a navy purse, and for the life of us, after dozens of sweeps to various stores, we could not find a navy purse. All the purses that looked navy to my mother were really black-we are convinced the lighting in the stores were the culprit. Well, she gave up her search for it, thinking she would never come across one. The other day, while Liz and I were shopping at JCPenny, out of the blue, what did we come across sitting there on a random pile of blue jeans, but a pretty, navy little cocktail purse complete with sequins! It was as though it was placed there by a higher power (Thank you Jesus) for us to find! My mother could not be more relieved! Purses have to match shoes--that's her rule. Now she can wear her navy heels with a matching purse! All is good in the world!

My daughter Lizzy has been enjoying her summer to the hilt so far since school break. She has already went to Disneyland with her friends, and now is looking forward to a cruise to Alaska with her boyfriend and his family. My, things look serious, huh? I don't think she has any serious plans, but she did disclose to me that she wants to plan a family in the future-a family of pets. She wants a teacup pig for a pet,as well as a dog (a pug) and a cat. She already has picked the names. She wants to call her pet pig BLT. Is that cruel or what? She has even found outfits to dress her pig online. I couldn't believe she was serious, but apparently, she is. OH well, what can you say? When she comes back from Alaska, we are leaving for the Azores. Me, the kids, and my mom. In July, my husband will be flying down for a week for the wedding of Tania and Ruben..

The month started with quite a boom.. We took Tania out for a bachelorette party--videos and pictures are on my Facebook page--we had a great time, and I think she forgave us later for blind folding her in the car once we got into San Francisco. We got some really funny looks from people we passed in the streets. It looked like we were kidnapping her...too funny.

As for me, work has been keeping me busy--too busy. We are getting a new case management computer system and guess who was selected as one of the "trainers". Lovely. I'm not as computer savvy as people may think. I know the system I work on right now quite well--mostly because I've been working on the same system for the past 22 years. Yes, I've been working for county government for 22 years! I started in 1988 when I was prego with my daughter. Three more years...three more years... Then it's FINI! Until then, my work is going to make sure I won't leave for vacation until I'm thoroughly exhausted. That's okay. By the time I get back from vacation, someone will have to train me. I honestly don't know how much I will be able to retain after being away for a month, but I will try not to worry about it.

Well, that is your update for the week--will try and get back to you soon!

May Potpourri

2010-05-31T18:31:00.000-07:00

Okay, since it's the last day of May, it is only appropriate to dedicate an entry for this month! I haven’t been diligent enough keep up with my blog, I know. It has been a non-stop month so far, and I have a feeling that June is going to be the same if not busier. I've written the following---bits and pieces of it all month--so sorry for the very long entry. I'm sure most of you won't be patient to read it all, but if you do---Thank you! Perhaps by the end of June things will be different—when school is out again.

It just hit me the other morning while I was walking my youngest to school. Everyday, for the last nine months, the morning ritual of waking up early, and getting the little guy into the van is coming to an end soon once again. My little car pool buddy will be out of school and can now soon sleep in. Oh, now isn’t that the life? Remember those days of your childhood when the most joyous thought in the world was waking up in your warm bed, realizing that you could sleep in until noon because school was closed for the summer? No cares in the world really. Yes, those were the days; waking up in the morning to the smell of eggs and bacon, or the promise of “sopas fritas” (French toast) from downstairs in the kitchen. The familiar sounds, smells of childhood and that ride on my dad’s shoulders down the stairs… Oh the memories. (Deep sigh).

Summer IS approaching fast, and in a matter of weeks, I will be taking off to the Azores for a month, and there is just so much stuff to do before then, and my weekends are incredibly booked solid. I have some shopping to do, I have my son’s summer camp/daycare to plan, and my mom constantly is there to remind me that she needs to make another shopping trip because she “needs at least 3 more pairs of shoes!”

This month I’ve had a bridal shower at my house, a nieces’ wedding, a birthday party, a visit from my husband’s brother and his wife who were in from New York, and a graduation barbecue. Today, was another shopping day with mom on her quest to find three more pairs of summer shoes to add to the other 20 pairs she has purchased since February… I'm happy to say, MISSION COMPLETE!

Okay, I'm ready for June... BRING IT ON!

Are You Listening?

2010-05-05T14:44:00.000-07:00

It’s the month of May, and I’m sitting here wondering how in the hell it crept up so quickly. I mean, the weather has been pretty much lousy until recently. It had been feeling like a prolonged month of January for the longest time, but suddenly, the heavens have opened up, and there are flowers blooming, and birds are waking me up each morning..

May began with a bridal shower tea at my house for my cousin, the bride to be. I was happy with the results, and Tania seemed to be happy, and my guests seemed to be having a good time, so I pretty much think it was a success—just one problem. It was a tea party, but I don’t think there was more than one person who actually had a cup of tea. I had coffee and lemonade---it seemed to be the popular choice. Oh well.. My daughter announced that for her bridal shower (no plans of one of yet—we are talking years into the future) she wants a Mimosa party. Okay, that seems tame enough—this is from the same girl who wants to invite Elton John to her wedding. She wanted Michael Jackson to be there too-but we all know that will never happen now.

We had a nice turn out, of course some people who said they were coming, didn’t, but that is okay. I invited my two aunts to come to the party, and although they didn’t know my cousin personally, they rather enjoyed themselves. One aunt, who had never met the groom to be even won a trivia game about him, which was pretty funny.

All of this brings me to an odd course of events that happened a week previous..

I’m not sure if I had mentioned this before, but my mother has been worried about traveling back home from the Azores by herself this summer. I booked her flight early with the understanding that her flight coming home could be rescheduled to when my brother could come out and return with her. Well, that was not the case. Azores Express had one seat available for the flight home in August, for over $800.. My mom had already bought her ticket for $700, and they wanted an extra $800 to change her flight. Of course, my mom didn’t want to pay it. I was at the point of paying for half it myself to give me the peace of mind that she would not be traveling alone, but a week later, I couldn’t do it even if I wanted to because the plane by that time was completely booked—no seats available. So I would have to deal with this issue when I was there, and pray for someone to perhaps cancel.

Well, last week, I had a very restless sleep. I was tossing and turning, because I was thinking of all the things that could go wrong with my mom’s flight coming home. Of course, there really isn’t a reason to worry—I mean, she would not be ALONE—she’d be surrounded by another 100 Portuguese people on the plane. Well, I didn’t sleep very well. I remember having a few off the wall dreams with my dad, driving around in his car. I couldn’t tell you now what they were about, because I don’t remember, but I can tell you that each time I have a dream with my father in it, he is usually trying to send me a message, and that morning I woke up not remembering what that message could have been other than: “Oh no, my dad is really upset that mom is traveling alone. He is telling me this from the grave!

The day before, I get a call from my Aunt Addie, telling me that she and my other Aunt Cecilia were planning on coming to the bridal shower. We got to talking about the summer trip to the Azores, and I mentioned that if she was thinking of going there again, that she should really consider it, and hinted that my mom would be traveling home alone. My aunt said that she would really seriously think about it, but I really didn’t think much about the prospect. I mean, she had been there before and really loved going, but planning a trip unexpectedly for the summer didn’t seem really realistic for her to do, but I had my hopes.

On the day of the bridal shower, the door bell rang and Tania and I went to the front door to greet our first guests, and who should be there standing at my door, but both my Aunt Addie and Aunt Cecilia. As soon as she came into the house, Aunt Addie turned to me and announced, “I’ve decided to go to the Azores and come back with your mother.”

Of course, my mother and I are thrilled! My aunt booked the trip that following Monday, and arranged to be seated on the plane next to my mother. It was then that my mother confided in me how she had a very restless sleep the week prior, and how she was up all night, worrying about flying alone, and how she prayed all night that God give her some good news. Yes, it was the same night I couldn’t sleep either. Well, I guess God was listening…

Embarrassing Moments

2010-04-12T13:59:00.001-07:00

I’m having a slow day. Don’t ask me why I’ve come up with is, but I couldn’t think of nothing really to write about…

The following is a list of some true embarrassing moments that I have experienced throughout my life.. There is one that happened quite recently. Can you guess which one?

Having my young daughter, shout out loudly and point out the man dressed as a woman at the grocery store aisle.

Leaving a large wholesale warehouse store holding my son, as he is sobbing uncontrollably, while he is throwing chocolate chip cookies at the other patrons.

Standing in line at the grocery store, and have my under slip I’m wearing fall to my feet.

Walking down the street, and feeling my underwear slip to my knees.

Walking down the street, and having my nylons fall slowly to my ankles.

Finding myself in a parking lot, not knowing where my car is.

Laughing so hard, and actually peeing my pants in public.

Bursting with laughter in the middle of church service.

Hearing the stomach sounds coming out of the older parishioners during church service.

Seeing a lady bug stuck in someone’s big up hair do during church service.

Taking my son to a restroom, who is refusing to stand in the same handicap stall, and having to walk around the store with wet underwear.

Having both of my parents come into a crowded discotec looking for me.

Discovering my parents hiding in the parking lot at night, to check out the guy I was dating.

Walking out of a restroom with toilet paper stuck on my shoe.

Forgetting a co-worker’s name, and thinking they are a client.

Going to the women’s bathroom at the workplace, and stopping in my tracks thinking it’s a man in the restroom, when it’s a woman who looks like a man from behind, and getting caught with that look of shock on my face.

Having to witness your cousin’s wife say to another woman (who is dressed like a man) that she is in the wrong bathroom.

Going to your brother’s wedding, and watching your drunk husband dance non-stop with another female guest at the wedding. (No, I’m no longer married to this one.)

Trying to prevent drunk husband from jumping out of the hotel window, while he is only wearing bikini underwear. (Yeah, same guy—not married to him anymore.)

Answering the front door after playing “make up” with my 5 year old daughter.

Pretending you didn’t hear someone you respect fart in public.

Having unexpected out of town visitors use your bathroom before you could pick up the National Enquirer you left on the bathroom floor, in front of the toilet.

The Importance of Being "Ernest"

2010-04-09T13:01:00.000-07:00

Today, I was covering the reception desk for about a hour, and it was pretty uneventful, but I had two clients come to the window, one after the other within 10 minutes time. Both of these young men went by the name of Ernesto. I thought that was a little odd. Then I get a phone call for another client, named Ernest. What are the chances of that anyway? I had no idea that Ernest or Ernesto was such a popular name, did you? I guess it's just something else for me to wonder about...let's just say that it's been an odd week.

You know the saying: "Things happen in threes."

Well, the other day I went to close my mother's door with her keys (3 keys are on the key chain by the way), and when came back home, and it was time to open the door, for the life of me, the keys were GONE. They had disappeared! I have no idea where those keys are. I've looked high and low in the family van---not there. My mother has gone through her purse over and over again, but to no avail. When I got home, I thought I found the keys--but I was wrong--it was my own set of keys to her house--the set that doesn't work. Luckily I was able to get my mom's back door open, otherwise I would have had gone through the window.

Later, that same day I get home, and I'm met at the door by my older son, who is a little frantic. "I think I lost my phone again, mom!" Great. My son has lost or broke at least 3 phones in the last year.

About 15 minutes later, I hear the garage door open, and I see my daughter coming in the garage, with an equally distraught look on her face. Apparently, her look of distraught is the same as her look of relief. She went on to explain how she thought she lost her wallet at the gas station, and she was pretty upset when she couldn't find it, mainly because I had given her my credit card for gas money. She apparenlty thought the poor guy at the gas station misplaced it. Luckily she found her wallet under her seat.

Well, happily, my son eventually found his phone, and my daughter found my wallet and my credit card, but, sadly my mother's set of keys are still gone. Strangely--all of these misplaced items happened within the same hour. Weird.

The other day, during my lunch break, I was driving around town, wondering what I should pick up for lunch. I didn't want a big meal, or a sandwich, so I decided to go to Jamba Juice and had a strawberry smoothie. Later that day, Rich comes home, and we started talking about our day, like we usually do, and then he starts telling me about his lunch hour. Apparently, he wasn't too hungry either, so he stopped at the Jamba Juice that day as well, and --- yes, you guessed it --- had a strawberry smoothie. Of course this happened at the same hour--just different cities. Weird.

Not too long ago, I went to one of the drive in car washes, and the guy behind me, stepped out to alert me that my fuel gas door was open. I was very grateful to know this, and I mentioned it to Rich later that day. He looked at me, with disbelief and informed me that the very same thing happened to him that day as well. Weird.

Can someone explain all the weridness to me? Do these things happen just out of coincidence? Is the Earth a little off it's axis, or is it because the strong connection of the people I surround myself with? Is there a guy named Ernest at the Jamba Juice right now making me a strawberry smoothie at this very moment?

I went to the grocery store to get a sandwich. No, the guy who made my sandwich was not named "Ernesto" or "Ernest". I checked his name tag, his name was Carlos. If his name turned out to be Ernest or Ernesto, I don't know what I would have thought. Anyway, I went to buy my sandwich at the register, and the guy there ringing up my sandwich said something very profound. Don't ask me WHY he chose to tell me this, but he said this, word for word: "Sometimes our dreams are windows to our futures." Okay, that was weird as well.

It's Friday - this all that really matters right now. Have a great weekend!

Happy Easter.... Happy Day!

2010-04-04T08:51:00.000-07:00

Okay---- Tis the month of April, and I've been meaning to post an entry days ago! See the change of my picture above?

April is a month of birthdays in our family... I was born this month, as well as my sister and my brother, and my brother's daughter who happened to pop out the same day as his birthday. Yes, July was a "hot" month for my parents. No surprise it was their anniversary month as well, so they must have done "it" three times. Okay, may be 4--I had a brother who was born in March too.

Today, this year, my birthday happens to land on Easter, and being a "Coelha", naturally I'm thrilled! Although, Easter to me does involve more than Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies. It's a day to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ--my savior. It's a good day to be alive. I woke up in bed with Rich on my right, and my son Nicholas on my left, with hugs and kisses, and warm wishes coming from both sides--that was pretty awesome.

The weather outside however is pretty dismal looking and it looks like rain. Better now than later. Tomorrow the "tree people" will be coming over to take what is left of the trees that were once in our backyard. Two more trees are coming down tomorrow, and six stumps. I would be lying if I told you that I didn't miss the trees. They gave shade, beauty and privacy. I can now see my neighbors across from me. I can now see them in the kitchen--it's a little weird. Bob the Gnome, who had a home sitting on it's swing on the cherry blossom tree, now sits on our backyard deck. My plastic rabbit and squirrels are sitting in front of my kitchen window, and I swear I thought I saw the rabbit's whiskers move. The real birds and squirrels in the neighborhood are equally confused. I see them coming up to the tree stumps--looking up and down.... Oh well..better things are coming...

The "pool people" will be digging our backyard hopefully by the end of this week. Yes, my childhood dream of having a pool in my backyard is actually coming true! Unbelievable. Hopefully by the time we arrive back from Portugal, it will be completed! I can't wait to drop my luggage at the door and make that big splash into that pool..or maybe I'll go into the hot tub first... Yay! Can't wait!

Until then, looks like we will have a pit of mud in the backyard for awhile. I'm forgetting about plans for the bridal shower for the backyard. I may cover the deck, and have some of it on there...we shall see. Meanwhile, Tania's wedding is keeping me busy with bridal shower favors. I have been to Michaels almost every weekend. My daughter thinks I may be going a little overboard. I'll be posting pictures later.

So for today, it's off to church, and boiling eggs. I made two puddings last night, a rabbit cake, cookies, and I'm bringing it all to my sister's house along with a big bag of Hawaiian Bread (sweet Portuguese bread) and lots of wine. My mother is making Alcatra (regional Portuguese dish---like carne asada that she cooks in a clay pot in the oven). There is nothing better than eating Alcatra with sweet bread--believe me.

HAPPY EASTER!

Black birds sitting on the telephone wire..

2010-03-10T08:03:00.000-08:00

I remember rainy, cold days where I would look out my window and watch the black birds line up on the telephone wire outside. I would count them, and wonder about them. Where had those birds been to? Why did they enjoy sitting out there on a rainy day? Were they talking amoungst themselves? Did they see me staring out at them? My bedroom window glass was wet, and dewy, so I would proceed to draw on my windows with my fingers. I would draw happy faces to pass my time hoping for the boredom to stop, and then continue to count the black birds sitting there on the wire and wonder about them.

When the rain stopped I would get on my bike and scope the neighborhood for the best puddles I could find. I scoped the neighborhood for the biggest puddles where I could make the biggest splash. The black birds would watch me from their perch and cheer me on until mom or dad would call me inside. Simplier days, simplier times. No computers to blog in, only numerous written journals, and loose binder paper stashed underneath by bed. No cell phones to talk into, just the yellow phone, with the long curly extenstion cord.

Rainy weekends, if my parents would let us, involved taking the bus downtown to watch a movie or the Goodwill where my sister would look desperately for old Monkee records. Suprisingly, I think she collected all of their albums that way. At lunch we would head for the Woolworths across the street from the movie theatre. The store was full of the aroma of moth balls, intermingled with the scent of french fries from the store's cafeteria. There was also a few questionable and colorful people inside as well-especially on a rainy day. This all made the place more exciting. I remember seeing The Rainbow Lady taking a break from dancing in front of the Cooper House in line holding a large box of red vine licorice-my favorite. I wondered what else me and the Rainbow Lady had in common. Of course we bought our candy at Woolworths and hid it in our pockets when we entered the theatre. The theatre was big, and I tried not to stare at the ceilings at the painted Roman looking women holding jars. No naked men on the ceiling, just women, but Richard Gere, and his naked scene on the big screen made up for it.

It's raining outside, and for some reason, the rain and the birds outside are reminding me of these simplier times and simplier days where the biggest worry was if I would be able to pass my math test next week, or what I should wear for school the next day. I remember laying on my bed at night, with the window open, watching the curtains billow softly hearing the rain tap at my window. If I listened quietly enough, I could hear the sound of seals crying in a distance near the wharf, and a cow in the distance mooing softly. The familiar sound of my father's car arriving in front of the house, and the sound of the door, told me that all was now safe and quiet.

February Recap!

2010-03-03T17:44:00.000-08:00

I realize I only made one blog entry for the whole month of February, but to my defense, it was a short month.

Okay, this is not a good excuse, I know. I feel actually guilty for admitting this to you. It’s the same feeling I get when I am sitting down on a Sunday, realizing that I missed going to church. Oops. Well, here are the highlights from the month of February that I forgot to mention:

Nicholas lost his first baby tooth! Yes, it finally happened! We were wondering when our six year old would finally loose a baby tooth. Nicholas was preoccupied by the thought of actually losing a tooth out of his mouth, thinking it would hurt and the blood that might be involved, but surprisingly to him, (and to us) it came out quite easily with low amounts of blood shed. It immediately went into a sandwich baggy, and underneath Nick’s pillow that evening. Yes, the tooth fairy did arrive and leave some cold hard cash that went directly into Nick’s piggy bank the following morning.

The concert that Lizzy and I had been anticipating to attend since the month of September of last year, that was cancelled due to a case of influenza for both Elton John and Billy Joel finally got rescheduled in February! Lizzy and I finally got to see the two perform live, and I can truly say, it was the best concert I’ve ever attended. We laughed, we cried, we sang… It was a great night!

As previously mentioned, Rich and I attended our first, live Nascar race! We flew into Los Angeles, and had a nice stay at the Hilton there. It was a more fun experience than I originally anticipated, and although Rich really enjoyed it to, I don’t think he would trade his recliner chair view at the big screen T.V. for an eagle eye view at the race track. We won’t be going to Fontana again anytime soon, but possibly Phoenix or Vegas if the opportunity is there. It was a cold and rainy weekend, but it was fun to be away for awhile, and the kids did not miss us at all. Word was Nicholas was having too much fun playing video games on the big screen and singing karaoke with Lizzy’s friends, and Andrew was enjoying his sister’s homemade hamburgers she and her boyfriend barbecued in the backyard. Yes, there are benefits having older children with younger aged siblings.

A Weekend of Nascar!

2010-02-25T11:25:00.001-08:00

A Weekend of Nascar…

February 20th & 21st…. Fontana, California

My husband likes watching Nascar auto racing. May be I should say he loves it. He waits in anticipation every year when February comes around, and dreads November when Nascar season comes to an end. He isn’t a Nascar fanatic or anything. He doesn’t wear Nascar gear– wear—like the race jackets, or own a Dale Earnhardt Jr. beach towel or anything---no, nothing like that. He does own a Mark Martin (his favorite driver) hat and a Nascar shirt. He just enjoys watching Nascar on T.V. He likes watching the race cars go around, and around on the track, and a race isn’t a race without a crash or two. He had never seen a Nascar race in person—only from a reclining chair, so last Christmas I got him tickets to finally see an actually race, in person.

With much anticipation, we ventured over to Fontana Raceway from our hotel near LAX, in our rented Hybrid/Nissan. (That was quite an experience in itself. It took us awhile to realize that the car engine was running---it’s sooo quiet!) We only had tickets for Sunday’s race, but since we were there, and it wasn’t raining (rain was predicted for Sunday’s race) we decided to head on over just in case of the possibility Sunday’s race is rained out. After a 45 minute drive to the raceway, we got out of our car, and we could immediately hear the cars. Yes, we got there a little late, and it was general admission only. We bought our tickets almost half off from a friendly looking guy selling tickets from his wind breaker.

As soon as we got into the stands, the smell of diesel and rubber hits you in the face almost immediately. Surprisingly, after awhile, the smell goes unnoticeable. Oh, and yes, we got our ear plugs. They helped some, but as we quickly realized, it is really hard to have a conversation with someone during a race. Rich and I used hand signals pretty much the entire time. The bloody mary’s that they were selling behind the stands were pretty tasty. It was freezing out there, and it really helped warm you up. The big names of Nascar were not racing that day, but there was Danica Patrick in her Go Daddy car. Of course she looked like a Barbie doll walking away in the far off distance, but so did all the race car drivers. They are all pretty much already short to start with-you have to be in short stature to fit in those cars to begin with.

I was warned about some of the characters I may see at the race way… One of my boss lady friends told me about the area, and had a first account of another supervisor who had a daughter who used to sell beer in the stands wearing only a string bikini. The weather was pretty cold, so I didn’t see any bikini clad girls walking up the stands with cups of warm beer, but I did see a few characters that looked like they just crawled from the woodwork. We noticed a lot of men with beards. Not short, groomed ones, but long beards—think of Santa. There were also a few people who have course looked a little rough around the edges... Let’s just say, it wasn’t the same crowd you would see at an Elton John/Billy Joel concert. (That’s another bog entry in itself.) I saw a lot of people wearing serious NASCAR gear. You could tell that many of them got new NASCAR racing jackets for Christmas, and they were proudly wearing them for the first time. They all looked like they came out of a NASCAR gear catalogue.

Sunday’s race was a lot more exciting. We went to the sports store Saturday night and got ourselves some spectator cushions to sit on, and rain slickers for just in case. We also rented serious looking NASCAR ear sets, and the hand held broad band, so we could see the statistics, hear the race car drivers, and see them race on a little screen. All the big names were there, including my husband’s favorite racer, Mark Martin. I must admit, he is my favorite too. You have to give credit when it’s due----the oldest racer out there who really stood his ground for the whole race. Of course Dale Earnhardt Jr. was there, and Jimmy Johnson, Juan Pablo Montoya….etc.. Andy Garcia was there to start the race, as well as the members of Styx who performed for a short time behind the stands, David Austin, pro-wrestler, now movie star (haha), members of the Blue Angels, who flew over the stands afterwards, after the prayer was said, and the national anthem was sang quite beautifully by country star singer, Katharine McPhee. Afterwards, sky divers jumped out carrying American flags. It was all a very patriotic affair. There were even more bearded men, and rough type looking people at Sunday’s race, but I must admit, I didn’t look much prettier wearing my plastic rain poncho, and my husbands black windbreaker. I think I looked pretty scary too. Did I mention that the bloody mary’s were quite good as well?

All in all it was a fun, memorable weekend. I’m not saying that I’m a die hard Nascar fan now, but it was fun to share the experience with my husband—his first Nascar race. There aren’t very many first time experiences we have shared together-we have known each other only 10 years, and it was nice to share a 1st time experience. Of course, it was just fun just being away alone for awhile. I could have gone fishing and still had a good time. My only regret is not having bought the tickets for the following weekend race in Las Vegas, but it may get rained out anyway, so I’m not going to ponder over it. May be next year?

I know Rich had a good time, but was a little disappointed as well. You just can’t see a race as well as you can in front of a big screen. Also, there were no real crashes either. Crashing cars are the best part of a race! I’ve come to the conclusion winning a race is dependent on many things-including strategy and just pure luck… Kyle Busch won the first race-almost stealing it from Joey Logano who held in first place almost for the entire time, and due to a yellow flag, and a lucky pit stop, Jimmy Johnson, won yet again in Sunday’s race.

Just Me And My Imaginary Friend...

2010-01-28T14:49:00.000-08:00

Last night, my older son come down stairs while I was in the kitchen, and asked me:

“How do you say, ‘Would you like to be my girlfriend’ in Portuguese?”

Should I worry?

I asked him why he wanted to know this, and his reply was the following:

“Well ma, if I’m going to Portugal this summer, I need to do know these things.”

Okay, for some reason I don’t buy this explanation at all. My son is 15, and not much of the “Casanova” type. He must be up to something. I know there is a girl he likes at school, he must be trying to impress her or someone. Well I told him what to say, and after a few times he got the words fairly correct:

“Gostavas de ser minha namorada?”

If you are a woman you would ask this:

“Gostavas de ser meu namorado?”

Translated: Would you like to be my girlfriend/boyfriend?

Oh to be 15 again… Sigh. I remember distinctly being 15 on vacation in the Azores. It was bit of a culture shock in some ways. I would hear this: “Queres ser meu amor?” Translated to be: “Do you want to be my love?” I thought it was so corny at the time. I don't want my son saying this to a girl..no matter if she understands or not! Imagine walking down a crowded street in a middle of a festival and hear this from an array of men-some young, some old (yuck) some cute, some not so cute--nevertheless strangers. Oh and sometimes getting pinched if you are close enough. Yeah…pinched! It was quite shocking for me—I was not used to that kind of attention. Oh, and sometimes, you would hear in a somewhat thick accent: “Hi, sugar.” What?! When was calling someone “sugar” hip? Back in 1972, maybe, but 1981?! Never! How so out-dated was that line! I was so turned off by that kind of behavior that it would get me mad, and give out glares of disgust in their direction—which only made them want to follow me and call me “sugar” more. Guys over there were not shy to show their affections. During street bullfights, some would come directly to my window. This was a little too close for comfort for me. If I saw them coming my way, I would quickly run away from the window and hide. Once I shut a window shutter right in this guy’s face. Sure, I felt badly afterwards, but I was a bit shy back then, and soft spoken to people I didn't know well. If you know me well enough, you know this is true.

So, I don’t know what my son is up to. But, I am including the following today in my blog. Andrew’s main interest is his music, and I know some of you don’t have Facebook accounts, I thought you may want to hear my son sing some of his own music… So here goes:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2y-4T8hL4Mg

Copy and paste to hear him sing!

The Good, The Bad, And the Nice Avon Lady

2010-01-17T09:18:00.000-08:00

I am pleased to report that the NICE AVON LADY is back! Yes.. I've made contact with the lady with the defective Curves tennis shoes, and we are scheduling a return and exchange. All is well. Yes, Avon does carry an 100% Customer Satisfaction Guarantee--no matter what.

Here's my link to my store---lots of good deals: www.youravon.com/julielangley

Interested in going to the Azores yourself? Well, if so--direct flights from Oakland to California and Boston to Azores are available for sale at Azores Express:

http://www.sata.pt/en/welcome

Pictures on the plane, coming home: Summer, 2007

I shared my own experiences about flying to the Azores before----here it is again:
Flying the Friendly Skies..

Have you ever taken a charter plane to the Azores?

It all starts with the line at the airport. The line starts from the around the Suntrips terminal with people with suitcases, sometimes boxes tied with rope (for those extra fragile items). If you read the tags off of these suitcases you will find names like, Silva, Santos, Medeiros, Bettancourt, Mendonca, Costa, Sousa…. You’ll hear voices speaking in Portuguese and English, sometimes mixed in the conversation. In line you may come across someone that you know, or someone you have seen before at a Portuguese event or festa. This gives you the opportunity to actually get to know these people and learn what island they are from, and carry on a conversation as the long line slowly makes it’s way up to the check in; you will be with these people for the next 24 hours, so get used to them.

If you have heavy luggage, this could be a problem, and you will have to pay extra. You need to pack carefully. Things to remember: If you are planning to be there during the festas, you should at least bring a good dress for each one you plan on going, with matching shoes…or, have a nice dress for every Sunday to attend church. Don’t wear the same dress to church more than once, and make sure your shoes and purse match the ensemble, because you may have to walk in a church procession during a festa, and EVERYONE will be there and watching you. I’ve learned this from my mother, who always seemed to over pack her suitcase with shoes.

Always wear comfortable shoes on a plane. NEVER take off your shoes while in flight however. I’ve learned this from personal experience. When you are up so high in the air, your feet actually swell up…well, at least mine..especially ifyou choose to wear a new pair of pumps for the first time. Nothing is worse than getting off a plane with no shoes on; I mean, what will people say when they see you at your final destination?! “Olha aquela Americana sem sapatos!…que vergonha!” Another thing to remind yourself, if it is that time of the month…go to the bathroom at least twice every hour. For some reason, the high altitude seems to trigger a very cruel force of mother nature. No matter how crowded the aisles are….don’t be a victim of, “Coitada, olha aquela Americana….”

I have never been on a charter plane going to the Azores where there has never been a man or two who refuse to sit in their seat during a flight. Rather, they like to get up from their seat and chat with someone who is seated clear across the other side of the plane. They will stand there for hours if need be and chat with this person. They will talk about numerous things, ranging from cows, land and real estate, or the American currency rate. These people are the most irritating people in a charter flight. Not only are charter planes filled to the hilt with people, the seats are narrow, as well as the aisles. These “men” plant themselves in these aisles, making going to the bathroom almost near to impossible. They talk and they will hover, and they will not go away unless a meal is served, or when the stewardess or steward threatens them.

I once sat on an aisle seat and witnessed this myself. I put my earphones on to block the jabbering, but the voice would not go away. In fact one person actually thought my head rest was an arm rest for the now and then air pocket turbulence. I must have cursed this at this man (under my breath of course) with all the evil names imaginable. Each time a steward would ask him to sit down, the same thing would happen. The man would look at her with a blank face, nod his head, and then continue talking.

If you are lucky, you will get a seat behind someone that does not move the seat back, but, if you are like me, you will have a large person either sitting behind you or in front of you. Remember, the tray for your food is attached to the back of that person’s seat. Have you ever had to eat in the fetal position? It is not fun, and it is almost impossible. The only food that seems safe without stabbing yourself with a plastic fork is the bread, the breadsticks, and cheese, and if you are brave, try drinking your coke before it spills on the front of your dress. You may have to make that extra trip to the bathroom and jump over the men standing in the aisles to clean that spot. Again, there is nothing worse than hearing someone say, “Olha aquela Americana…”

Did I mention how long a flight is from California to the Azores? Let me tell you. From San Francisco to the East Coast (NJ or MA, or NY) it’s about 9 to 10 hours…yes… This includes the actual sitting in the plane before taking off, and the getting out of the plane to take the next plane. If you are lucky, you’ll get to fly a Portuguese Airline, TAP—(Take Another Plane). I don’t care what anybody says, TAP is the best airline I’ve ever taken. They serve food that you can actually eat..and they have little wine bottles.

So..for 10 hours, you must share your little space with about 200 people, including stewards that often don’t know a word of Portuguese. If you disclose that you know English you are a target. During one flight, the dinner was served. “Raise your hand if you want chicken,” the pretty blonde stewardess called out. Her audience just stared back with blank faces. She must have encountered the same situation before, because right after, she proceeded to flap her arms and repeat “Chicken”. Suddenly there was laughter, and arms were raised. She didn’t need to pretend to be a cow later for the filet mignon…she got everyone’s attention with the chicken, and the irritating man standing in the aisle wearing that big gold chain and eagle medallion finally sat down.

There are always a few people on the plane with nervous conditions. I will never forget one summer, when a woman, wearing a yellow fur coat entered the plane, and announced in a very loud voice to everyone, “Tem muita gente aqui! Eu vou morrer no iste aviao!” Translated, There are too many people here! I’m going to die on this plane.” Some get on with their rosary beads in their pockets for easy access. Some people just drink. Drinking on a flight is a good idea…as long as you are a man---if you are a woman, it’s socially not a good idea because once you reach your destination, you need to direct your “man” to fetch the correct luggage at the luggage claim. If your single, and without a man; you'll find one at the baggage claim to help you out, as long as they are sober--just pretend to be really helpless--most Portuguese men, old and young love that, and will be there for you. There is nothing worse than ending up with the wrong luggage, or being caught with the wrong luggage.

Changing planes is an exciting event. If you have to change planes, you may have to go to the baggage claim and check in again. Just remember this, there is safety in crowds. If you don’t know where the other terminal is, always follow the American woman with the tight shoes and stained dress. The flight to the Azores once you are back East can range from 4 to 5 1/2 hours. Don't worry, we don't pass the Bermuda Triangle.

There is nothing more beautiful, however, than finally getting to your destination. Terceira is so beautiful in the morning when you come down and descend through the clouds. The green island suddenly appears, and suddenly the little rock walls are seen. The familiar white houses and orange roofs are there, and the plane falls into silence with “oohs” and “awws”, and jubilation. People are crying, but at the same time, holding their breath until the plane finally hits the runway. There is applause, and the rosaries are put away into their pockets. There is that rare silence again, before the mad rush to the luggage in the overhead compartments, as a few women open their compacts and check their lipstick. I don’t even bother. My dress is stained, my shoes don’t fit; and I look like hell.

Summer, 2007 My kids standing in front of the name of the street my mom's house is on. The street is named after my grandfather.

Yes, I'm taking a direct flight. I just get on the plane in Oakland, and we land in Terceira. Very easy---no flight changes--just 10 + hours of plane. It might seem like a lot of hours, but I think it's the best way to go when traveling with kids. Fares are cheaper this year too--this is good, because traveling there is not cheap! This Avon lady needs to sell more Anew.

Did You Hear What Happened to Joan?

2010-01-16T16:29:00.000-08:00

Did You Hear What Happened To Joan?

You can read it here: http://www.nydailynews.com/gossip/2010/01/05/2010-01-05_agent_saves_flight_from_joan_rivers.html

Or you can skip that and read it here..

Apparently, Joan Rivers was held "hostage" in a Costa Rican airport on her way home after vacationing during the holidays. She was held "hostage" because her passport didn't match her boarding ticket. Now, I believe that even celebrities have to follow the rules, but this all has me worried. Apparently the agent who I purchased my tickets spelled my son's name wrong on the ticket. Instead of "Nicholas" it reads: Nickaulos. Okay..easy mistake I guess? So I called the agent right away to correct the problem, and she promised that she would send me a new ticket after she gets "permission" first. I don't know what that means, do you?

Traveling with kids can be interesting. Back in 1999 I went to the Azores (I was a single mom back then, with two kids.) and the travel agent insisted that I needed a notarized letter signed by my ex-husband permitting our children to leave the country. It was done after weeks of pleading, and I carried this letter with me at all times of travel: time of check in, time when we changed planes on the East coast, and when arriving to my destination overseas. During these times, I kept this letter with my boarding tickets. Never at any time did ANYONE ask to see this letter. I even volunteered to show this letter, and I only got odd looks for security and airport personnel. Okay..

When I traveled three years ago, my passports were a major issue. All of our passports had expired, and I applied for new ones that year in February. I didn't get my passports until July--5 days before my flight--only because I actually went to the passport issuing office in person in San Francisco--otherwise I would have received them in October. Richard signed a document allowing our youngest to travel outside of the country. I encountered no problems until we reached our destination.

When we arrived and showed our passports, the airline guy had questions. Why did my two older children have a different last name than my own and my youngest child? Why is that a concern? Really? Well, I had to explain to him about my divorce, and that my two older children had their father's last name, and I remarried and had another child. I then pointed out to him that ALL my children had my maiden name written on their passports. I really didn't mind explaining these facts, but I really didn't think it was that necessary! With the strict passport laws that are enforced these days, I wouldn't think I would be questioned about my personal life like that. When leaving the Azores weeks later, after checking in and after saying our goodbyes to our crying relatives, I was targeting aside and was "searched" by a female employee at the airport. I guess I looked suspicious: a mom with 3 kids traveling with their grandmother--that reads trouble all over the place, doesn't it? Then my kids were questioned. Remember, I was LEAVING the Azores! My two boys were questioned by airline security in English. They spoke English to them because my boys didn't speak enough Portuguese. It was more than obvious to anyone that I wasn't taking them hostage against their will from the Azores, and they were two American kids on their way home, so I was peeved, yes, I was pissed.

"Who is this woman?" (lady was pointing to me)

"What's her name?"

"Why did you come here?"

Well, good thing my kids gave the right answers! Was I part of a security training drill or what? Perhaps when I absent mindingly packed that bottle of cognac in my carry on-it alerted a guy sitting in the back with the security cameras. I swear, I only had 3 hours sleep when I packed that in! It was handed over to my crying cousin, Adelaide who promised to not open it until I arrived back to the island again. They could tell I was getting upset. I was tired, restless and ready to get back home, (I should remind you that it takes a lot for me to get that level in public.) but was reminded over and over again that it was airline "policy". Each time that woman at the airport repeated that line that over and over again, I was ready to erupt like a volcano. Yes, I almost had a Joan Rivers moment. If I was say, Joan Rivers, quite possibly I would be treated better, but really... This was the same year that poor English couple lost their girl in a Portuguese resort area, so I can understand a little..but---I was LEAVING the country!

So far, my husband has already applied for his passport. My passport and the passports of my children are still good. My mom's passport doesn't expire until next year. So far, everything is running smoothly--I'm keeping my fingers crossed nevertheless.

Channeling My Inner Rocky

2010-01-14T11:36:00.000-08:00

Well, wow, it’s the middle of January and I haven’t bothered to enter an entry until now? Okay, well I had good intentions at the first of the year—I’m sticking to that.

I could start this by saying that I’ve been busy, but what else is new? Sometimes, by the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I’m finding that it is getting harder and harder to stay past 10 pm during the weekdays—even sometimes on the weekend. My friend Deolinda came across my blog the other day and wondered when I had time to write on this—she was amazed. Deolinda---I don’t have time. It amazes me myself. Sometimes I have good days. Today has started to be a good day---I even had a cute homeless guy wave at me this morning and say hello while I was on my way to get my coffee. Can it get any better than that? Well, he was cute anyway.

I’m getting a little peeved with a few of my Avon customers as of late. I try to be a nice Avon lady, but sometimes I think I’m feeling taken advantage of because I’m so “nice”. For instance, I have a few customers that return stuff a little too often. I can almost predict when she is going to tell me she is going to return something. Okay, I say..and I pay for the return to go back to Pasadena. Yes, at my cost, because I’m the “nice Avon lady”. But, when I get customers that want to return stuff months after they have used the product, Miss Nice Avon Lady turns into Rocky Balboa Avon Lady. What is up with that? Okay lady you bought these tennis shoes like 2 months ago, and now you want to return them? I don’t think so, lady! I could see a week or two afterwards, but two months?! This is not the first time this lady returned these very same shoes. She ordered them and they were a “bit too big” now one of the “loops” are getting loose. No more Miss Nice Avon Lady!! Ding! Dong! This Avon lady isn’t going to be ringing your door bell anymore. Okay, I’ve vented.

Well, it’s official! I bought my airline tickets and, God willing, I will be back in the Azores this summer. Yay! Yes, I’m excited---I’m looking forward in seeing my family back there on the rock, and be part of my dear cousin’s wedding. This year my husband will FINALLY make the trip over to see where his crazy wife’s ancestors were from. He has heard so many stories about the place—but the whole Azores experience cannot be just told—he needs to see it—and live it. Okay, he’ll be there for only a week, and it will probably just be a week of blur images once he gets past the 7 hour difference in time and jet lag, but hopefully it will be a happy blur! I can’t wait for my relatives to meet him. They all love him already for “saving” me from being an “old maid divorcee” (a Portuguese mother’s nightmare for their daughter), but I want them to meet the MAN, the legend, in person.

My kids went out to see their dad in New Jersey, and I’m happy to report that they had a good visit. They enjoyed the snow and the East coast atmosphere-especially the sights and sounds of New York. I’m just glad they are back home-I missed them. They were spoiled beyond reason-lots of eating out, trips to New York City, Atlantic City, Broadway shows…and lots of shopping. Andrew has this new Ipod Touch that I’m totally fascinated about—it has everything—it’s a phone, it’s mp3, it’s…amazing.

I have a little Ipod. It’s a tiny little one. I need to upload my music list on here and slap on my Curves pants and get to walking the track again. It’s rainy over here, and cold, but I have some pounds to lose before the big trip. It’s cold, but not snowing. When the kids called me from New York earlier this month when it was a whole 4 degrees, I felt pretty guilty about complaining about my 60 degree weather. Time to toughen up! Time to call on my inner “Rocky Balboa”.

Have a great week everybody!

2010 Meme

2010-01-01T22:04:00.000-08:00

I got this from Joann:

1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?

Flew into LAX airport! Didn't see any celebrities but had a good time!

2. Did you keep your New Year's Resolutions from last year and will you make any for 2010?

No, and yes! (At least I have good intentions, right?)

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

A cousin--not very close to, but I have two more babies arriving next year--my cousin's wife, and one of my nieces!

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No---thank God.

5. What countries did you visit?

None!

6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?

A smaller butt!

7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory...and why?

I don't remember the dates... I will remember 2009 as a year of many untimely celebrity deaths-that is for sure.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Keeping my sanity in tact.

9. What was your biggest failure?

I don't get those..

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

No!

11. What was the best thing you bought?

My airline tickets for summer 2010! :)

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

My husband---but then again--what else is new.. I'm a lucky girl, that is all I can say.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

A certain somebody whose name shall remain unknown.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Airline tickets!

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Summer, 2010!

16. What song will always remind you of 2009?

Soul Sister- by Train

17. Compared to last year, are you...
...happier/sadder? happier
...thinner/fatter? Same--why isn't that an answer?!
...richer/poorer? richer

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

My Curves training pants have been calling my name for months. The cold weather and lack of ME TIME have made me turn away from their pleas of attention.. Excercise-what else?

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Eat chocolate.

20. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?

Spent it alone at home with hubby and youngest child.

21. Did you fall in love in 2009?

...with Richard :)

22. How many one-night stands?

Those days are over.. (Not like had a lot of them however!)

23. What was your favorite TV program?

Amazing Race, Desperate Housewives, Modern Family..

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

I don't hate.

25. What was the best book you read?

I don't remember!

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?

My son Andrew---I never knew my son had a voice or such talent! He blew me away!

27. What did you want AND get?

Airline tickets!

28. What did you want and NOT get?

A small butt and narrow hips!

29. What was your favorite film of the year?

Gosh... None stands out in my mind...

30. What did you do on your birthday and how old were you?

OMG.. I don't remember what I did no my birthday! OMG..I'm getting so old! I'm 43.

31. What ONE thing would have made your year immensely more satisfying?

I can't say here.. Lol...

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?

Boots. I like boots! :) I like boots because I don't have to deal with nylons because my nylons never last. I am always in a hurry, so boots work.

33. What kept you sane?

My 6'2 teddy bear. :)

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Hmm...none really...

35. What political issues stirred you the most?

I'm so not into politics..

36. Whom did you miss?

I miss my dad--but what else is new?

37. Who was the best new person you met?

My friend Delia--she help keeps work bearable..

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson that you learned in 2009.

It's okay if people don't like you for who you are. It's not your job to please certain people.

39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

Okay this is hard... I had something here earlier but realized that it wasn't MY song--but someone elses.. Hmmm..will have to come back to this one later.

Happy New Year!

2010-01-01T09:05:00.001-08:00

Welcome, 2010!

Welcome to my life--please enter quitely, and leave peacefully, 2010. I look forward to your stay, and I'm hoping you will enjoy my company as well. I know we shall have good times, and perhaps some tough times. We may have good weather, and sometimes stormy, but I own an umbrella. May you bring joy and good health to my friends and family. If you should leave a mess now and then, I'll be ready for you--as long as the sun comes up the next day, I know I'll get the strength to conquer whatever you should throw in my path. Welcome, 2010--make yourself at home.

Okay I've made a few resolutions already. One of them is to write more often-and that includes being more dutiful to my blog which I have neglected for many weeks. I'm not even going to spend too much time explaining myself, just that life has been pretty busy the last few months. It seems as the kids get older, life gets even more busier---why is that? I should not complain though--I know one day Rich and I will be in an empty house (Rich is looking forward to this--I'm not) and we will sit there in front of the T.V. and we will wonder... "Why haven't we heard from the kids lately?" Well--it's not going to happen any time soon. Nicholas is 6--we have at least 14 years to go..ha ha ha. Wow--we probably will have grandchildren before then...how weird. Okay, I'm going to stop thinking about it.

Last night Nicholas marched down stairs to the living room and announced that he was holding something behind his back that he no longer "needed". He then quickly revealed what it was---and my heart dropped when I saw what it was. It was his Winnie The Pooh musical pully that was once hanging in his crib. It plays the lullaby song, and he has had it hanging on the door knob of his closet ever since we put the crib away. Sigh.. Our little boy is growing up! I promised him I would keep it for his first born. Oh God, I don't even know how old I'll be when that happens.. Eek...

The house has been a little more quiet lately. My Lizzy and my son Andrew is off in New Jersey being spoiled by their father and step-mother for a week. From the phone calls I've been getting they are enjoying themselves and the snow--they'll be home soon. I personally don't know how their dad does it--I could not go on without seeing my kids years at a time-it would kill me.

Andrew on staging performing with his friends.

For Christmas I got a very special gift from my son Andrew--a copy of all of his songs on a CD, along with a very special note that made me cry--a happy cry, not a sad one. If I knew how I would download one of the songs on here---perhaps later.

Last night hubby and I watched old episodes of Roseanne through the new year. Sounds exciting huh? I never watched the last episodes of that show and had no idea that Roseanne's character wins the lottery. Rich explained it all to me, and I must admit that I was a bit surprised that my husband used to watch that show---almost in shock. I mean, he likes the History Channel and watching men drive trucks through Alaska shows, and comedy stuff--but Roseanne?! The people on that show remind me of the people I used to see during my brazen single days when I would go to mountain bars. All that plaid and missing teeth, and beer bellies... Interesting. We watched Roseanne and heard the fireworks go off around the neighborhood--thrilling I know, but when you are with the love of your life it really doesn't matter where you are for the new year, right? Tonight we are going to visit my mom, leave Nicholas there and go out to dinner and see a movie.

My friends--may your year be beautiful from beginning to end. Hugs and God bless!

Holiday Party

2009-12-02T13:58:00.000-08:00

Well, it's that time of year again! Time for me to send the "Holiday Potluck" announcement to everyone at work! I must be careful to exclude the word "Christmas" to not offend anyone of course! After I sent out the flyer, decorated carefully with only Santa Claus, my friend Sharon sent me the the following--it is classic--and true--ENJOY!

This is absolutely priceless and, unfortunately, too close to the truth. Have a laugh!

Company Memo

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: October 1, 2008
RE: Gala Christmas Party

I'm happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take place on December 23rd, starting at noon in the private function room at the Grill House. There will be a cash bar and plenty of drinks! We'll have a small band playing traditional carols... feel free to sing along. And don't be surprised if our CEO shows up dressed as Santa Claus! A Christmas tree will be lit at 1:00 PM. Exchanges of gifts among employees can be done at that time; however, no gift should be over $10.00 to make the giving of gifts easy for everyone's pockets. This gathering is only for employees!
Our CEO will make a special announcement at that time!
Merry Christmas to you and your family,
Patty

Company Memo

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: October 2, 2008
RE: Gala Holiday Party

In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish employees. We recognize that Hanukkah is an important holiday, which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not this year. However, from now on, we're calling it our "Holiday Party." The same policy applies to any other employees who are not Christians and to those still celebrating Reconciliation Day. There will be no Christmas tree and no Christmas carols will be sung. We will have other types of music for your enjoyment
Happy now?
Happy Holidays to you and your family,
Patty

Company Memo

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: October 3, 2008
RE: Holiday Party

Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table, you didn't sign your name. I'm happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that reads, "AA Only", you wouldn't be anonymous anymore. How am I supposed to handle this?
Somebody?
And sorry, but forget about the gift exchange, no gifts are allowed since the union members feel that $10.00 is too much money and the executives believe $10.00 is a little chintzy
REMEMBER: NO GIFTS EXCHANGE WILL BE ALLOWED.

Company Memo

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
To: All Employees
DATE: October 4, 2008
RE: Generic Holiday Party

What a diverse group we are! I had no idea that December 20th begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating and drinking during daylight hours. There goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon at this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees' beliefs.. Perhaps the Grill House can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party or else package everything for you to take it home in little foil doggy baggy. Will that work?
Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest from the dessert buffet, and pregnant women will get the table closest to the restrooms.
Gays are allowed to sit with each other. Lesbians do not have to sit with Gay men, each group will have their own table.
Yes, there will be flower arrangement for the Gay men's table.
To the person asking permission to cross dress, the Grill House asks that no cross-dressing be allowed, apparently because of concerns about confusion in the restrooms. Sorry.
We will have booster seats for short people.
Low-fat food will be available for those on a diet.
I am sorry to report that we cannot control the amount of salt used in the food . The Grill House suggests that people with high blood pressure taste a bite first.
There will be fresh "low sugar" fruits as dessert for diabetics, but the restaurant cannot supply "no sugar" desserts. Sorry!

Did I miss anything?!?!?
Patty

Company Memo

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All F*%^ing Employees
DATE: October 5, 2008
RE: The F*%^ing Holiday Party

I've had it with you vegetarian pricks!!! We're going to keep this party at the Grill House whether you like it or not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death," as you so quaintly put it, and you'll get your f*%^ing salad bar, including organic tomatoes. But you know, tomatoes have feelings, too. They scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream. I'm hearing them scream right NOW!
The rest of you f*%^ing wierdos can kiss my *ss. I hope you all have a rotten holiday!
Drive drunk and die,
The B*tch from H*ll!!!

Company Memo

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FROM: Joan Bishop, Acting Human Resources Director
DATE: October 6, 2008
RE: Patty Lewis and Holiday Party

I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Patty Lewis a speedy recovery and I'll continue to forward your cards to her.
In the meantime, management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd off with full pay.
Happy Holidays!
Joan

The Traveling Velvet Shorts..

2009-11-23T22:03:00.000-08:00

In many families, heirloom items are passed from one generation to another. Sometimes its pieces of jewelry or china, books, pictures…etc. Well, in our family it’s a pair of hand sewn black velvet shorts mother made for my two older brothers. Together with it's matching jacket, my brother Eddy wore it for his Aunt Addie’s wedding back in 1960. Throughout the years it has been passed down a generation and re-worn by various young boys in our family. It was worn to various weddings and special occasions throughout the years by our nephew Michael, then again by my brother’s son, my nephew Brett, and afterwards worn by my son Andrew. In its most recent appearance, my youngest son, Nicholas officially wore the notorious shorts two weekends ago at my cousin Elaine’s wedding. It was worn first at her mom's wedding. After 48 years, as you can see in the picture below, it looks just as new as it looked years before. It is now presently hanging in the closet awaiting for the next generation of little boys in the family. I can't wait to know who will be wearing it next..we can only wonder.. Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of the bride, due to the fact that my camera battery died-which is very sad, because my cousin looked especially beautiful, and her groom was quite handsome. They looked like the perfect bride and groom you find on top of the cake—very Cinderella and the handsome prince. Sigh.. I did manage to take a few pictures before my camera refused to take anymore.

Nicholas wearing the famous shorts..

Playing catch up with November…and I'm going a little backwards--still bear with me..

Okay November is more than half way over, and I haven’t really even been making any entries this month.. When this happens, please know that it’s not because I’ve given up, but it’s due to the fact that I've been overwhelmed with routine daily life! Sad that I don’t have the time to sit and write something-because, a lot of stuff has been going on!

My niece Tara, Lizzy & Mom

I have two Christmas boutiques scheduled for my Avon booth. I had one last Saturday, and it was NOT what I expected it to be. I was told that the event was going to be "widely advertised". I really beg to differ--I think I counted about 10 or 15 people who actually came to the event. I'm not kidding. It was in a small, dark, church hall, and it was freezing. It was colder inside than outside. The only enduring thing was a picture hanging in the kitchen area. It was the same painting that used to hang in my mom's kitchen when I was growing up. A picture of a bowl of fruit, and a bouquet of flowers. It was surreal---I forgot about that painting, and to see it again brought back a lot of memories. Other than that, it was a VERY LONG day. Considering the lack of flow of potential customers, I did break even and did sell--not half as much as I wanted to of course. I honestly made more money from the other vendors who were selling, who came to my booth. It was so boring, we were visiting eachother to pass the time. I did meet some really nice ladies though. It was exhausting nevertheless, and I didn't get home until after 4 pm. Now I still have over 50 gift bags to sell.. I need another boutique to sell! Hopefully the next one will be more fruitful..

Andrew, Nicholas, Mom, my nephew, Michael

We had a birthday for my youngest on the 5th which involved movies and a trip to Chuck E. Cheese. (That was fun—I had no idea however how BUSY that place can be on a week day evening---I would be scared to go anywhere near that place on a weekend!)

Birthday Boy Nicholas

I have yet another goal for this month—I want to finish the throw blanket I’ve been meaning to complete for the last I don’t know how many years. No, I’m not kidding. I’ve promised my daughter to crochet her a blanket since she was 11 years old. (She may have been younger—I’ve lost count of the years.) She brings it up now and then, and teases me about it, so I am really going to try and finish it THIS YEAR. I’ve started various times, throughout the years to make good on this promise to her, only to put it aside for one reason or another. I’ve had various good intentions of start of blankets that are “somewhere” in a bag in the attic. Sad, huh? I vow that I WILL MAKE GOOD and finish this blanket---hopefully before the start of the new year! You read it here folks! THEN, I will finish that green and blue blanket I started for Andrew (that started over 8 years ago-gee I hope I can still find the same color yarn.)

We are on the heels of Thanksgiving... So, here is a list of my thankfuls:

1. I'm thankful that my kids are healthy.

2. I'm thankful that I and my husband have a job.

3. I'm thankful for the bills we can pay.

4. I'm thankful that I live in a safe, loving, stable home.

5. I'm thankful that I have a good man for a husband.

6. I'm thankful for the children we share our lives with. They aren't always easy to live with, but they are ours.

7. I'm thankful for my friends.

8. I'm thankful for the simple things, smiles, giggles, hugs and "I love yous"

9. I'm thankful to be alive.

10. I'm thankful to realize that I have a lot to be thankful for...

Magicians, Rabbits & Candy... OH MY!

2009-11-04T19:45:00.000-08:00

Well, Halloween came and went, and we all survived! The day started with some unnecessary drama, but ended quite well! Here are few pictures from the magical evening...

Nicholas, the Magician

Me and my little magician

My pictures are a little dark---couldn't get the flash to work...but we figured it out later:

Nicholas will make this candy disappear!

What do you mean? I always dress like this when I'm in my kitchen..

Nick trying to make me disappear--didn't work..

Lizzy & Nicholas--the magicians..

Lizzy had her own rabbit..

It's not every day you find two white rabbits on your porch..

After only a trip around the block Nicholas was happy with his amount of candy. I was a bit surprised, but I guess I should be thankful that he really didn't want much more. This all means less temptation for everyone else. I heard on the radio that if you eat just ONE fun size candy, you would have to walk a mile to burn it off! Have two candies? That's two miles.. It just doesn't seem fair, does it? I tell you that I was looking forward to walking a little more with Nicholas because I had this in mind, but since he decided to call it an early night, it was probably for the best!

Regretably, I have no photos of Andrew, my Cereal Killer. He spent the night at my mom's and hung out with his friends that night, but was home by 10 pm. He wore a shirt with torn cereal boxes, and cereal glued all over, with random splatters of fake blood all day to the dismay of my mother. She had it hanging outside in the backyard the next day claiming it was attracting ants. I have a feeling it will be hanging in Andrew's closet very soon. No, I'm not too excited, but hope to take a few pictures of it before it goes "mysteriously missing."

October is gone, and November promises to be another busy month.. Will check in later on that! Have a good one!!

Bye October!

2009-10-29T14:26:00.000-07:00

It's almost the end of October..two more months until the year is over. Halloween is at the door, and I can already smell the Thanksgiving turkey---oh, and don't forget Christmas... It's hard not to realize that the holidays are coming. I'm reminded each time I enter a grocery store or a mall. The turkey basters are all ready on display admist the left over, last minute Halloween candy, and from the corner you can already see red and green in the aisles screaming Christmas.

Are you ready?

Are we ever ready?

October was a weird month. October has never really been a good month for me--there are some memories associated with the month that I really don't care for. It includes the passing of a baby niece of mine, an anniversary of a large earthquake that shook my little hometown, and the beginning of end of my first marriage. My son Andrew most recently lost a former classmate this month due to a fatal stabbing. He was 16 years old. It was an incident of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The suspects are known gang members and only one is in custody. Three still remain "out there". The victim was not a gang member, but was wearing red shoelaces-the color of his high school; my school. It boggles the mind that something could happen like this in my hometown-two blocks from the high school, and three blocks from the police station. We do live in a scary world. Andrew has been emotional, and has been asking for extra hugs, and sitting a little more close to me nowadays. He better never complain about his 10 pm curfew ever again!

Last night I put the finishing touches on Andrew and Nicholas' costume. Now that I have sole possession of my camera, I hope to post some pictures of Halloween events. I have Andrew's cereal killer shirt hanging in van, and it's pretty scary looking. Picture boxes of cereal boxes on a white shirt, with cereal glued on the shirt, with fake blood. Sounds harmless, but after Lizzy helped me with the blood splatters, we had it hanging by the front door, and it looked rather creepy under the moonlight.

Nicholas is a magician! I got a black cape, and wrote "Nicholas the Fabulous" with glue paint on the back of his cape, which got mixed reviews: "It sounds like a label for either a cheesy wrestler or a drag queen." So I added "the magician" at the end, and it fixed the "problem". Of course Nicholas heard these comments and didn't want to be teased, but after reminding him that most of his classmates couldn't read anyway, no would would know what I wrote. This morning when he was running in the playground at kindergarten, he felt better because no one did, and he seemed content enough to see how his cape blew in the wind.

Lizzy was so inspired by Nicholas' costume, she too has decided to be a magician, and her boyfriend is going to be a rabbit. This all inspired me of course to also dress as a rabbit, or should I say---COELHA. So, this should make interesting pictures.

My husband, Richard is going to dress like a dad and husband. He doesn't do Halloween, but that is okay, because he makes it fits the part most excellently.

Tonight I'm going to meet up with an old friend that I haven't seen since my "newly divorced, single days." Last time I saw her she was engaged with her now husband. It will be nice to play catch up with her over a margarita--hell, may be I'll even bring my camera after I delete all these advertising photos Lizzy took of tampons and fingernail polish. The other day she made me a hand model for a advertisment photo for nail polish. I will tell you, my fingers started to cramp up. I had to hold down a 4 inch crooked nail "gracefully" with the tip of my nail. Not as easy as you may imagine...

Yay...it's Friday!!!

Airport Adventure

2009-10-18T09:39:00.001-07:00

Recently, Rich and I flew into Los Angeles (LAX) airport to spend time with his family. It was a very short trip, San Jose to L.A. on Saturday morning, returning early Sunday afternoon. Very short, but hey better than driving, right? I think we did more "riding around" in the airports more than we did when we drove in our rental car and our final destination! We had flown to Vegas last year, but apparently, I'm getting rusty, (or just old) when it comes to airports. Remember I was the one leaving Portugal with a bottle of Cognac in my carry on.. DUH.. A big NO NO!

Well, when we got to San Jose Mineta International, we decided to park in the long term parking. Good thing we were parked in section C, than section S. The "trolley" bus went through the alphabet with this annoying woman's recorded voice at each lettered section. "You are now entering Parking Lot section "D"...etc...etc.." All that took a good 15 minutes of driving in circles. Imagine having that job--driving around a parking lot in circles, listening to that annoying woman's voice, over and over again. I tell you, that must be pure hell.

Once we got to the airport, I got my e-tickets printed at the kiosk--that was simple enough, and off we went to our "favorite place" -- SECURITY. What a lovely working crew that was. I'm sorry, but the people working there are just plain mean. I'm sure they are just lovely people outside of the airport. Perhaps, they have to be "mean" for the job? I know people who work inside a jail--it comes with the territory, but must I always feel like a criminal when I go through security?

"Take off your shoes, and any metal items, and put it in the plastic container.."

Simple enough, right?

"Lady, that includes your jacket.."

Okay, I put my jacket in there, and walk through the security, so glad I wasn't wearing a belt. People wearing belts, were undressing all over the place, in the undressing area. Men and women holding their pants, barefoot, disoriented.. It's easy to feel a little humiliation. Remind me to where flip flops next time!

Other than that, I love airports. I don't know exactly why, but ever since I was younger I've always had the attraction. The atmosphere, the mood, the people. I remember sitting there watching people go by-some of them running, some of them walking, some happy, some sad.. Sometimes on a occasion you may even see a celebrity, most of the time not. It's a great place to "people watch".

Well, we got ourselves near our departure gate, and I got a bagel, and we just sat there waiting, and relaxed in front of Noah's Bagels when we hear the "last call" for our flight. Last call?! What happened to our FIRST CALL?! Well, luckily we were near the gate, and by the time we got on the plane, we were the last ones so we didn't have to wait in line. The plane was small, but we couldn't see the pilot from our seat like the time we flew to Vegas, so that was good.

After a 45 minute flight, we touched down on at LAX, and off to another trolley for our rental car, where we were "entertained" non-stop by the guy sitting near us at the back of the bus, who was talking to his friend on his cellphone and then to his "baby's momma" for another 20 minutes. It's interesting how some people don't really care how much personal stuff they reveal about themselves when talking on a phone. When we got to the rental car line at Avis, he was still talking to his "baby's momma" behind us in line for another 15 minutes. I still remember a lot of the conversation, I feel I could write a book about this guy's life. I feel like I know the guy, but again, I don't even know his name.

We got a sweet ride.. A beautiful red Camaro....very nice, after you get used to the seemingly small front window. We stayed in beautiful Marina Del Rey, and our sister-inlaw's house is in Venice. We drove only a gallon worth of gasoline to and from to her house. A good maybe 10 minutes..

When we left the next day for home, we dropped of the pretty Camaro at the rental car place, and got into another trolley--another 10 minute drive to the airport. I got stopped at security for carrying a bottle of water in my purse. Damn. DUH. We were early, and decided to just stay near our gate. Little did we know our gate was in a separate location. So, we had to get into yet another trolley bus, another 5 minute drive to a gate that looked like a shack from the outside. We waited a hour there eating cafeteria, bland sandwiches at the only little food place that was there. Did I mention how cold it was? It was cold.

We finally got into the plane, and chose to be the last ones on the plane this time. Why wait in a line again? Yes, we were anxious to get home, but we were tired. Once we got home to San Jose, back in the parking lot trolley to our long term parking, and the annoying woman and her monotone voice: "You are now entering Section..." A strange woman with a straw hat covering her face wearing long knee high socks came in and sat near Rich. She smelled like Vapor Rub. Another 10 minutes on that trolley...

Damn it was great to get home! We had a fun time at Marina del Rey with the family-a nice birthday surprise. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera so I have no pictures with family. We took a wharf walk up and down the marina, where there are hotels and aparments overlooking the harbor. We stayed at the Ritz Carlton-definitely the most nicest hotels I've EVER been at. Great weekend-which we stayed longer.

Our view from our balcony

By the way, I read this in the news---so happens it was at the apartment buildings we passed on our walk near the Marina, about a man found dead sitting on the balcony: http://www.thesunnews.com/253/story/1120575.html

Thank God we didn't see this guy!

Over The Top..

2009-10-14T15:41:00.001-07:00

I'm a little late with this, but Wini nominated me for an Over the Top award! Thank you!! Play along! The rules of this award are as follows:

~Answer the questions below using only one word
~Thank the blogger who gave it to you: Thank you, Wini!
~Pass it on to 4 other bloggers---put consider yourselves all included!

So, on with the questions:

1. Where is your cell phone? Purse

2.Your hair? Ponytail

3. Your mother? Home

4. Your father? Heaven

5. Your favorite food? Cheese

6. Your dream last night? Silly

7. Your favorite drink? Margarita

8. Your dream/goal? Retire

9. What room are you in? Livingroom

10. Your hobby? Family

11. Your fear? Sickness

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Ocean

13. Where were you last night? Car

14. Something you aren't? Jealous

15. Muffins? Blueberry

16. Wish list item? Paint

17. Where did you grow up? Santa Cruz

18. Last thing you did? Ate

19. What are you wearing? Jeans

20. Your TV? Big

21. Your pets? Gone :(

22. Your friends? Thankful

23. Your life? Good

24. Your mood? Lazy!

25. Missing someone? Always :(

26. Vehicle? Van

27. Something you're not wearing? Socks! (My feet are freezing!)

28. Your favorite store? Ross (Treasure hunt city..)

29. Your favorite color? Red

30. When was the last time you laughed? Morning

31. Last time you cried? Morning (laughed until I cried..does that count?)

32. Your best friend? Rich

33. One place that I go over and over? Mom's.

34. One person who emails me regularly? Floreen

35. Favorite place to eat? Home

Well, I've had a busy week... Currently, it looks like son Andrew has caught on to what Nick had, what I had, and what Richard had. :( Throw up city once again. Lizzy wasn't feeling too well the other day, but no throw up episode which is good, because Rich and I left on a little mini weekend away to meet with his family in Venice Beach. Despite Rich not feeling 100% we did manage to have a great time with his family at my father-inlaw's surprise birthday bash at the "Louella Country Club"! It was great! It started with Bloody Mary's on the terrace overlooking the yacht harbor in Marina Del Rey, at the Ritz Carlton.. BEAUTIFUL HOTEL, I may add.... Will post some pictures as soon as I can find the cord for my camera--I haven't seen it since Lizzy's tampon photo shoot..

The sun is finally shining through the window right now, and it completely different than it did yesterday. We had 60 mph winds over there, with very HEAVY rain. I don't know what I was thinking driving over the mountains yesterday morning. It was raining, cats and dogs, and various farm animals. I wasn't expecting to see a stalled car facing the opposite direction in the fast lane either. I let out a scream, and drove with both hands on the wheel--we are talking white knuckle city. It hardly rained today, and that is good---there is a lot of mud out there just waiting to slide down the mountain. Fortunately, we don't live close to that area, so we are good.

No More Holes In The Wall!

2009-10-08T21:07:00.000-07:00

I came home to nicely patched up walls! I no longer can see pipes! I'm so happy! Things are getting back to normal, despite all the sheet rock dust...

I'm happy to report that I am feeling almost 100% better now. Hubby still isn't at that point yet, but he is better than he was yesterday. We can now look forward to the weekend! We are leaving Saturday morning, LAX bound so we can spend some time with Rich's family. His step-dad is turning the big 75, and we are going to surprise him at my sister-in-law's house along with Rich's other siblings. It should be a lot of fun---need to take my camera. We are staying at a really nice hotel in Marina del Rey.. Almost wish we were staying for a longer period of time, but it will be fun to just get away for awhile.

I must tell you something about my tooth pain. It is gone! I accredit it all to the miracle drug elixer of warm salt water. I am not kidding---it works so well---there is nothing better! I cannot believe I forgot about it! I swear upon it now! After taking it, the pain almost immediately went away. My son tried it for himself this evening because he was complaining of a canker sore. He laughed when I suggested it, but now, he is also a true believer! "Mom! My mouth doesn't hurt anymore!" Nothing like the old fashioned water and salt...oh, and yes, whiskey works too.

Halloween is soon upon us, and Nicholas has announced what he wants his costume to be: A Magician. I don't know where he got that idea, but it will work. All I need is a top hat, and a black cape, and a wand... I tried to convince him to be a wizard, but he insists on being a magician--his mind is set on it, so magician it will be!

I mentioned on Facebook that Lizzy was doing a photo shoot in the front yard for tampons. I wasn't kidding... Here is the picture:

(Hey, I'm holding the yellow poster board behind Lizzy if you are wondering..)

Have a great weekend!

Looking forward to the weekend...

2009-10-06T20:29:00.001-07:00

Well, it's been an interesting week...

Between the various strange men that have "invaded" our home, tearing up the walls, putting in the new copper pipes,and Nicholas coming home with a terrible stomach virus, my week has been a combination of bathroom visits (running towards the sink because I'm going to puke) with intermediate runs to the toilet, and misplaced furniture and Avon boxes I've have around for storage. Nick got sick, I got it, and then husband got it. I think I have had an average 3 to 4 hour night's sleep the last 4 days. The bathrooms are a mess, and I have holes in my walls. This all makes me feel, I don't know---unbalanced--I hate disorganization! I like things neat, and their place! To top it off, I went to the dentist a few weeks ago and got a filling for a tooth that wasn't bothering me. Suddenly this tooth, that they "fixed" is hurting me! I don't know if it's my gums, or what... I dragged myself to work today, and I thought I was feeling better, until boss lady said:

"Oh Julie, you look horrible!"

Lovely. I was told to go home--so I did-not until I looked in the mirror a dozen times to really see if I looked that way. My mom said my eye looked swollen, and that I was looking a little "sonhsa" : Portuguese slang meaning: tired looking. Lovely.. By mid-day I felt like a troll.

Speaking of trolls, I apparently have one...ain't that special? Someone really needs a new hobby--that is all I'm going to say.

Well, I'm hoping for things to change because we have plans for the weekend. (Keeping fingers crossed..) Hopefully by the end of the week, the holes will be patched up, and the pipes will pass inspection, so by next week we can start painting! YAY! No longer will we have those nasty rusty pipes! No more rust stains to scrub off in the bath tub! YAY! I took a look of the old ones that they took out, and it was really disgusting/scary to see how much rust have accumlated throughout the years...

Today I went home after the suggestion of my boss lady, and picked up Nicholas. We came home to find husband laying on the couch sleeping, so I went upstairs and "cleaned things up" from last night's episode of bathroom runs. Despite the holes and the towels covering the holes up, things are tidy again, and disinfected for another day until the "men" come to patch up the walls. Another round of dust is coming. They do cover everything up with plastic, but dust has a way of getting everywhere. So, I will try and stay positive, because that is all I can do, right? Tomorrow is Wednesday--the week is almost over! Saturday we will all be feeling well, and we will ENJOY our weekend!

40 Things..

2009-09-18T11:23:00.000-07:00

I got this in an email from a good friend of mine--it's pretty much all true!!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

40 things in the life of a Portuguese Child

01.You have at least one relative who wore a black dress every day for an entire year after a funeral.

02.You spent your entire childhood thinking what you ate for lunch was pronounced "sanweesha."

03.Your family dog understood Portuguese.

04. Every Sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent visiting your grandparents and extended family.

05. You've experienced the phenomena of 150 people fitting into 50 square feet of yard during a family cookout.

06.You were surprised to discover the FDA recommends you eat three meals a day, not seven.

07.You thought killing the pig each year and having torressmos, morcella,linguica and a hanging dead pig from the ceiling was absolutely normal.

08.You ate sopa de covos for dinner at least three times a week, and every Sunday.

09.You grew up thinking no fruit or vegetable had a fixed price and that the price of everything was negotiable through haggling.

10.You were as tall as your grandmother by the age of seven.

11.You thought everyone's last name ended in a vowel.

12.You thought nylons were supposed to be worn rolled to the ankles.

13.Your mom's main hobby is cleaning.

14.You were surprised to find out that wine was actually sold in stores.

15.You thought that everyone made their own bread.

16.You never ate meat on Christmas Eve or any Friday or that matter.

17.You ate your salad after the main course.

18.You thought Catholic was the only religion in the world.

19. Your were beaten at least once with a wooden spoon or broom.

20.You thought every meal had to be eaten with a hunk of bread in your left hand.

21.You can understand Portuguese but you can't speak it.

22.You have at least one relative who came over on the boat.

23.All of your uncles fled to America to not go to the war in Angola or they went to the war in Angola.

24.You have at least six male relatives named Tony, Luis, Joao, Fernando, Jose or Manel.

25.You have relatives who aren't really your relatives.

26.You have relatives you don't speak to.

27.You drank wine before you were a teenager.

28.You were pinched under the arm in church by your mother.

29.You grew up in a house with a yard that didn't have one patch of dirt that didn't have a flower or a vegetable growing, or a grape vine covering it.

30.Your grandparent's furniture was as comfortable as sitting on plastic. Wait!!!! You were sitting on plastic.

31.You thought that talking loud was normal.

32.You thought sugared almonds were common at all weddings.

33.You thought everyone got pinched on the cheeks and money stuffed in their pockets by their relatives.

34.Your mother is overly protective of the males in the family no matter what their age.

35. There was a crucifix in every room of the house.

36.You couldn't date a boy without getting approval from your father. (oh,and he has to be Portuguese).

37.You called any pasta "shpargett".

38.You dreaded taking out your lunch at school.

39. Going out for a cup of coffee usually meant going out for a cup of coffee over Tia's house.

40 Every condition, ailment, misfortune, memory loss and accident was attributed to the fact that you didn't eat something.

Better Later, than Never--Thankful Thursday

2009-09-18T11:18:00.001-07:00

An oldie, but a goodie.. My two older kids with my niece and nephew, circa 1999

Thankful Thursday, a day late..

1. I’m thankful for my three kids—they keep my life exciting, whether it’s driving my oldest out with her friends to a nightclub (I got invited to join them by the way—80’s night—and yes, I was almost tempted—may be next time), listening to my son be-bopping around the house, watching my youngest perform in a school assembly, they choose to include me in their lives, and that is something that I will be forever thankful for.

2. My family van. Not only can I fit the kids in there, but there is always room for a few friends, Avon brochures, and Grandma and her famous lasagna.

3. I’m thankful I can appreciate and recognize the good things in life. A good husband, a secure home, good kids, friends and family. I have been truly blessed.

4. I’m thankful I have the intelligence to know when to acknowledge and respond, and when to keep quiet. There are some things that really aren’t worth my time.

5. I’m thankful that I’m comfortable in my own skin. I realize that there will always be people who may not like me, or may resent me for just being alive. That is just fine. I’m not on this Earth just to please certain people.

6. I’m thankful for my job. I’m thankful I have a job when many have lost their own. I’m thankful for the 22 years of job security, and the medical and dental insurance that covers the entire family. I’m thankful I learned strong work ethics at an early age. I’ve thankful my parents taught me the importance of earning your own money. Yes, and I’m thankful for those years in my life where I found myself working a 65+ hour week when I was a single mother. I learned to rely on myself, and it made me a stronger person. My hats off to all the working single moms out there!

7. I’m thankful I waited a year after my divorce before I started dating. Although, however some of the experience I could have lived without.

8. Yes, and I am thankful for my first marriage-it produced two wonderful kids who I cannot imagine my world without. The whole experience makes me appreciate my life right now so much more.

9. Lastly, but not least, for the good friends in my life who are always there to listen and laugh with.

10. Weekends away! Just booked a weekend away with husband for next month! YAY!

May you all have a wonderful weekend!

Goodbye To A True Cowboy

2009-09-15T11:06:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought Mondays couldn't get any worse, last night I heard of the passing of one of my favorite celebrities; a true American hero to many-Patrick Swayze.

He was a beautiful, brave man who fought a good fight, and lived his life with grace and dignity; a true, blue cowboy, and boy did he know how to dance!

Where Have All The Cowboys Gone
Paula Cole

Oh you get me ready in your 56 Chevy
Why don't we go sit down in the shade?
Take shelter on my front porch
The dandy lion sun scorching,
Like a glass of cold lemonade?
I will do laundry if you pay all the bills.

Where is my John Wayne?
Where is my prairie son?
Where is my happy ending?
Where have all the Cowboys gone?

Why don't you stay the evening
Kick back and watch the TV
And I'll fix a little somethin' to eat?
Oh I know your back hurts from working on the tractor
How do you take your coffee my sweet?
I will raise the children if you pay all the bills?

(Chorus)

I am wearing my new dress tonight
But you don't even notice me.
Say our goodbyes
Say our goodbyes
Say our goodbyes

We finally sold the Chevy
When we had another baby
And you took that job in Tennessee
You made friends at the farm
And you joined them at the bar
Almost every single day of the week
I will wash the dishes while you go have a beer.

Where is my John Wayne?
Where is my prairie son?
Where is my happy ending?
Where have all the Cowboys gone?
Where is my Marlboro Man?
Where is my shiny gun?
Where is my lonely ranger?
Where have all the cowboys gone?

Yippee Aw, Yippee Yea
Yippee Aw, Yippee Yea
Yippee Aw, Yippee Yea

May you rest in internal peace. You shall be missed.

Basket Case

2009-09-14T12:49:00.000-07:00

It finally rained last night! The weather all weekend was balmy and sticky—thank God for the rain!

I’m having a dilemma! Should I buy a booth at the Christmas Boutique at church, or should I skip it this year? I did it last year with some success—I did get 3 recruitments from the booth, and some sales-but I think between the cost of the booth, the time and energy and sales, I generally broke even. If I do decide to do it this year, I will definitely do some things differently. If I have a demo, I’ll have to buy a few of each so I can sell it right there and then. I had a few Christmas animated demos that the kids really liked to look at—you know the little Christmas tree that lights up, and the dancing penguins, and I wish I could have had a few on hand to sell right then and there. People don’t like to be told, “you can order it and get it later.” I will also have to charge tax—I didn’t do it last time, and I think that was a mistake. It’s a whole weekend project, from 8 to 5 pm. Last year I was sicker than a dog, and I was new at it, and didn’t know what to expect. I dragged myself over there, and I know I sounded, and felt like a two pack smoker, and whiskey guzzling ole’ woman. That alone may have scared a few potential customers. “Hhhello---would yer like to buy some Avvoon?” At the same time, it was kind of fun—I mean if I had felt better it would have gone better. I met a few nice people there, and I was warned right away by the lady at the booth next to mine, to whom not to accept checks from—something you wouldn’t think to be a concern at a church boutique, huh? Another issue is the time. By the end of the week, after working, my daily commute, the kids, my mom, and keeping up with the house, etc., I really don’t have the time. The weekend is the only time basically I have. I’ll have to make the time if I do decide to commit to it. I went to a craft store over the weekend, and I left the building inspired, but I’m I haven’t decided yet. Over the weekend I did assemble a gift basket that I was asked to donate. It was fun to make—I could easily make 50 more. We shall see it’s in November! What’s in November: my son’s birthday, a cousin’s wedding, and Thanksgiving. It’s going to be a busy month either way, but what month isn’t, right?

I still have some fixing to do at this site---was not able to get to it and update anything. May have to wait until the end of the week, the way things are going.

I came across the book the other day, it’s called: 14,000 Things To Be Happy About, by Barbara Kipfer. The way the world is today, and all the negativity, I think it’s important to be happy, and grateful. I think it’s easy to forget to be happy. Here are a few:

1. Racing a bike
2. Saving money on almost everything
3. Sailboat sails
4. Babies burping
5. Leftover flower children
6. Echoes in a cave
7. African violets
8. Bread factories
9. Grand slams
10. The little store on the corner
11. Fireworks
12. Decorated Christmas trees
13. Beach Umbrellas
14. Love that lasts and lasts
15. Antique pop-up books
16. Last summer’s seashells from the beach
17. Tooth fairies
18. Santa’s kitchen
19. Dr Seuss Books
20. Falling asleep on the lawn

I hope you week includes at least one of these. Have a good one!

Fixing Things

2009-09-10T11:07:00.000-07:00

It's come to my attention that I need some cleaning up to do in regards to this Blog site----I am "following" blogs that no longer exist, or there are new ones from that list that no longer exist... So, I will start cleaning up this place soon. SO... I know there are a few of you that have NEW blog sites that are not updated on my side bar.. Sorry! Please give me you new links! Por favor! Please! Thanks. Oh, and how do I edit and delete again? If you know, please let me know.. Lately I have had little time to think too much. I've been busy.

The other morning, my teenage son called to me with a dilemna: "Mom! Look at this! This is so wrong!" Andrew comes down the stairs in the kitchen pointing to a new pimple sprouting on the corner of his mouth. What is a mom to do? I explained to him that he needs to put his acne ointment on it, and he has to CLEAN his face everyday...etc.. But that didn't go well with Andrew-no he wanted a quick fix to his problem. How I wish I had a magic wand to fix it all, or have the powers of one of my favorite childhood heroines from Bewtiched, Samantha. If only I could just wiggle my nose and fix it all! Still, it was still sweet for Andrew to think I could "fix it".

Speaking of fixing, and cleaning, I'm happy to report that my wonderful hubby, who just about can FIX, anything is almost finished with the "attic project". Soon we will be able to go through the garage and clean and discard or save the stuff we put in there since we moved in six years ago. Who knows what we will find.

Catch Up With Me Life! (Playing Catch Up, yet AGAIN)

2009-09-09T18:14:00.000-07:00

Lizzy & me in Disneyland

I know, it’s been like forever since I last posted. Let it be known that I feel extremely guilty about this. I don’t know why I should feel guilty, but I do. I am so far behind with everything that is going on! It’s frustrating! Let it be known that the mouse on my computer is not working, so I that is part of my excuse for not submitting an entry earlier. I don't really have another excuse besides life has been just busy. School is back in session, and it's tough going back to the old routine. So much has gone on, but let me go back a few weeks...

A couple of weeks ago, my cousin, Tania asked me out for dinner. She called late on a Tuesday evening to ask me if I was free that Friday night. She wanted to go out to dinner with me alone, but did not say why. Well, I immediately went into my "worried mother hen" mode. She reassured me that nothing was wrong, nor was she pregnant..(ha ha ha)but she kept me guessing on what this dinner was about until the very end. It just sounded a bit mysterious. Sure, we hadn’t seen each other for awhile since she moved into her own apartment, but she was busy with work, and studying, so poor girl didn’t have time to visit often, but why didn't she just come over to our house for dinner so she could talk to me and Rich if it was important? Rich was a little suspicious, so was I. Lizzy and I had a brainstorm session with Andrew, as we thought of different scenarios. Was she going back to the Azores? Did she or Ruben get a job offer? Were she and Ruben moving up the wedding date?

Well, Ruben drove us to a nice Mexican restaurant, and it wasn't until we had sat down and had our first margarita did Tania finally tell me what dinner was all about. Tania had a proposal for me; she asked me to be her Maid of Honor---it was totally unexpected! I was so speechless, but happy! I got up and gave her a big hug, and I think I almost cried. Some of the patrons of the restaurant took notice, and I think they may have thought we were a lesbian couple getting married or something, or may be they thought I had a few too many, but no matter. I’m thrilled, and honored to be chosen, and I vow to be the best Maid of Honor I can be. I kept on asking her if she was sure. I mean, I’m 43 years old—no spring chicken. The last time I was a Maid of Honor was at my sister’s wedding, and I was 17. Oh well, I guess I will do.

As previously mentioned in my earlier entry, my daughter Lizzy is now officially 21! My daughter is now an adult! I’m happy to report that she and her friends did not over do it on her birthday. I dropped them off downtown around 11 pm, and went back to fetch them a little past 1 am. I would have gotten there quicker if I had better instructions, (okay, she was a little tipsy) but no one threw up, and no one lost their shoes or bra or anything else for that matter. All I can say is thank God for cell phones. Right when I dropped them off at the curb in front of a bar (what every mom dreams of doing for their daughter) I get a frantic call from the birthday girl:

"Mom! I left my wallet in the front seat of the car!"

I was just around the corner, and drove back to meet her. To the delight of my daughter, and her group of cheering friends, and the young men gathered at the front entrance to the bar, I passed over her wallet through the open window. I was amazed on how many people were out and about bar hopping on a Wednesday night. I was also surprised to later learn that newly 21 year olds get free drinking privileges. I did not know this! Apparently, she didn’t have to pay for one drink, nor did her friends have to pay for her. All of drinks were “on the house” and she got to dance the night away to the late, Michael Jackson. Damn… I wish I had known this when I was 21. Wait, what did I do when I was 21? Did I go out with friends and dance to Michael Jackson at a nightclub? No fricken way! If I remember correctly I was in San Diego having my first margarita at restaurant on a golf course with my ex-husband, amoung a lot of older people. I think it was senior citizen night. Thrilling, I know. I’m so glad Lizzy had a better time; we all want better for our kids, right? I gave Lizzy her MAIN birthday present--tickets to see Elton John. She was so thrilled that she totally embarrassed herself in front of her friends.

9/2/09 Lizzy and her girl crew before heading to the bars.

Did I mention that on the ride over to the bar, the SPICE GIRLS CD was blasting in the car? OH, if only she was 12 again, and not 21. Or should I rather say, "Oh to be 34 again... (SIGH)

Saturday we had a big barbecue at the house, and thanks to my niece, Tara, the margaritas flowed. It was a good time with a lot of friends and family. Pictures to come later..

Yes, that's a Belle cake--one of my daughter's favorite princesses as a child.

21 years ago...

2009-09-02T19:16:00.001-07:00

21 years ago, I gave birth to a beautiful, baby girl named Elizabeth.. It just blows me away how this little baby, who changed my life forever, is now an adult. Perhaps an adult, but she'll always be my baby Lizzy. It's been years of ups and downs--but more ups than I could ever hope for. She's has grown to be a beautiful, caring and loving person, and I couldn't be prouder.

Happy Birthday, Lizzy!! We love you!!

Mixed Thoughts & Movie Review!

2009-08-21T21:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening I found myself doing something I hadn't done in a long time. Wait! On second thought, I don't believe I've EVER done this before! I went to see a movie, alone. It was not fun.

I forgot how awkward it feels to be somewhere ALONE. I'm not used to it. I usually have at least one of my offspring with me, or my husband with me, or a relative or a friend to accompany me somewhere, and to not have the other warm body around felt very uncomfortable. It caught me all off guard, and it kind of surprised me. I wasn't always this way! When I was single, I was more adventurous! I used to leave the house alone at night and go to bars for God's sake. I used to go on blind dates (some would have gone better if I was actually blind to tell you the truth) but I thought of nothing of going anywhere by myself. Gee, I have changed.

Instead of sitting down somewhere to eat, I chose to buy myself a sandwich and eat it in my car in the parking garage. Have I become that paranoid? I walked to the sandwich place and ordered my sandwich. The eatery was nice, clean and almost empty. The guy who made my sandwich was quite pleasant actually. I could have just sat there in this nice and safe place and read the newspaper. I could have been more comfortable there, than sitting in my van in the dark and noisy parking garage. Sitting in my van, I found myself pondering on worrisome things like how long it would take for the rescue parties to find my body if the parking garage should collapse suddenley in an earthquake. They would find me sitting there behind the wheel holding my cheese and avocado sandwich, with garden sprouts still stuck in my teeth. "How sad, and pitiful!" they would say. I can see the headline in the local paper now: "Local woman dies alone in family van while eating her veggie sandwich ..." Without further thought, I proceeded to stuff the rest of my sandwich down my throat, and get out of the van.

Something really strange happens when you go up to the window and buy ONE ticket for a show. You get that LOOK. You know, that LOOK that only you really notice. The guy behind the window gave a sad and sympathetic look. I tried to ignore it as I handed my one ticket to the lady inside. I kept on telling myself that I was being so silly. I'm not the first person to go see a movie alone! People do it all the time! It's supposed to me fun and relaxing! Right? I went up the stairs, avoiding the escalator. I had purchased a Tolverine candy bar earlier and hid it in my purse (I still think someone is going to ask to search my purse for candy), and I could not afford talking the escalator--I needed all the exercise I could get at that point. As I made my way into the dark theatre, I was happy to see that the theatre was still pretty empty. I found the perfect spot to watch my movie, so I try to quietly go for my chair, hoping to enter unnoticed, when suddenly, KERPLUNK! I SLIP and SLIDE on a puddle left in front the next chair. Thankfully, I break my fall and don't land on my ass. I was just thankful no one noticed..or did they? I was too embarrassed to look up to find out.

Suddenly the people started pouring in; mostly women. I was there to see Julie & Julia, the story about Julia Child, and the story of a young woman named Julie who decides to blog about her pursuit to complete each recipe written in Child's cook book, never realizing that in fact she was learning more about herself.. Okay, I'm not going to write about the movie. Go and see it for yourself, it is worth watching! Meryl Streep was awesome! More of chick flick---looked like the same sort of audience when I went to see Mama Mia. Just a reminder however: If you are a vegetarian, I suggest you may want to think twice before viewing this film. I was sitting by two young women who actually hid their faces and turned in disgust. This is not the film for you! You will see lobsters boiled to their deaths, RAW MEAT, and dancing, dead chickens and ducks being de-boned. Also, it may be a good idea to actually EAT something before this film. If you to see it on an empty stomach, don't be surprised to hear LOUD and growling sounds coming out of your person. The other women who sat on my left kept on "eeewing and awwing" at all the food. Not a movie for people with eating disorders either, I may add.

Anyway, you are probably asking WHY I went to see a movie alone in the first place. Well, I was stuck downtown, with an awful sore throat, waiting for my son to get out of a hip hop gig of his downtown. I'm very proud of my son, but going to a club at night full of teenagers and preteens, with loud hop hop music alone did not interest me. I'd probably be tempted to do something really embarrassing, like jump on stage and say, "That's my boy!" or insist on combing his hair or readjust his clothes. I've heard Andrew say far too many times to me: "You are turning into Grandma!" Am I really? I don't know, but I can tell you I was so RELIEVED to get Andrew in the van later that night. He was so happy and excited about his performance, and I got a private bee bop session all the way home up and down Hwy 17. As soon as I saw my hubby waiting for me, I was so relieved I didn't have to go to bed alone that night, and when Nicolas crept his way into our bed and snuggled beside me, and did not mind one bit.

Micky Moused Out

2009-08-14T13:03:00.000-07:00

My love bug.. :)

We are back from our little vacation from Venice & Disneyland, and as the title describes, we are pretty much "Micky Moused Out" for awhile. We had a really fun time, but we are all tired, a little sore, and pooped! Pictures will be posted later...no time today!

This week since we have been gone has been still pretty busy with loads of laundry, and lots of pre-school preparations. School starts Monday for Andrew, Matt leaves for Sonoma State next Saturday, and Nick starts school on the 26th. Lucky Lizzy has a month off; she finished her summer session last week. Work starts again for me on Monday, and that is okay. I'm THRILLED beyond belief that I am able to keep my 6 hour day work schedule! Yay!! The way the budget is at they have approved it all the way until next year! Hurrah!! Yipppee!!! Can you tell I'm happy?

Well, I don't have much time today to write much because I have a retirement party to go to tonight, so here is a Meme in care of Dawn! Thanks Dawn! I wanted to write something since it's been so long, and it's nothing like a Meme sometimes...

Feel free to do one yourself, why don't you?

If you could do your wedding all over again, what would be the one thing you would change? Damn, this is kind of hard. I've been married twice. I can't really say I wouldn't have married the first husband--I mean, that would be easy to say, but I have two great kids from that marriage--no matter how ugly it was. It was hard, and I went through a lot, but I learned a lot. Well, if I could do that wedding over again I would have had it overseas in the Azores. As for my second marriage, I think I would have liked more family around, but at the time, it was pretty much perfect.

If you could re-do one room in your house, which would it be and why? I would add another room upstairs, and make a master bedroom suite with a bigger bathroom. The bathroom the kids share is too small, so I would tear down the wall and make our bathroom an extension to theirs.

If you could go back to high school, what is one thing you would change? I would be more out going---not be as shy and get more involved. High school wasn't that much fun for me.

If you had a son born tomorrow, what would his name be? ANOTHER SON?! Okay, his name would be Joseph Franklin---after my dad and my husband's step-father. We would call him "Joe".

A daughter? Audrey Kate Just because... :)

(It ain't going to happen. BABY FACTORY IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED!!)

If you had an infinite amount of money and health, how many children would you have? Um...we have enough, thank you!! 4 is good.

If you won the lottery tomorrow what is the first thing you would buy? A pool. It's on the agenda. If not a pool, a bigger house, with a Granny quarters on it for my mother who hates living alone.

If you could have chosen your family how many siblings would you have and be specific about their sex and ages? The same that I have now..two brothers and an older sister. ONLY I wish I had known my second brother. I enjoy being the youngest.

What is on your desktop wallpaper? The island picture that comes with the computer.

What is your favorite zoo animal? Tigers....they are beautiful! Then, I guess it would be the bears.

What was your favorite activity in gym class? UGG.. Jazzercise. Whenever I hear Stevie Wonder's "You Are The Sunshine Of My Life" I remember doing the "doggie" (lifting up your leg while on your knees like you have to pee) position and it makes me laugh.

What is on the shirt you are wearing right now? I'm wearing a boring white v-neck t-shirt.

What is the picture nearest to you a picture of? I have multiple pictures on the wall in front of me. One of me and my two kids that I took after my divorce, one of my two kids alone when they were younger, one of Nicholas posing near a turtle, and one of my step-son in a tie, looking unusually sweet.

What is your favorite salad dressing? Evil Ranch dressing.

What do you do on a Sunday night? Watch T.V. and dreading Monday morning.

If you could use only one condiment on your food for the rest of your life what would it be? Ketchup, I guess.

What are the color of your sheets? Beige or green.

What pair of shoes do you wear most often? Sandals in the summer, or black pumps.

What is your favorite Thanksgiving food? Sweet potatoes!!

Trouble With Bras..

2009-08-06T17:05:00.001-07:00

Well, we all know about our troubled economy. People are losing their jobs, and stores are closing everywhere. I am happy to report however, I have not seen a real decrease in people submitting Avon orders for braziers!

A large store (I used to work there part-time) closed down in the town where I’m from, and now the women of the county have one less store to shop for their undergarments! This may explain why my Avon sales for bras have gone through the roof! (Avon doesn’t make the bras—they carry brand names like for example, Platex..etc.)

I only have one problem. I have a customer who cannot find a bra that actually “fits”. She has bought 4 braziers from me, and I’ve had to return every single one of them because “they just don’t fit”. Well, due to Avon's 100% full guarantee policy for returns, I have to send them back-at my expense. I don’t get too many returns, but this woman just placed another order for a bra in the same size today, and I can almost guarantee you that it will be returned, because it will not “fit”. Well, I don't have the heart to tell her that I'm sick of returning bras she orders that don't fit, and that I'm actually losing money each time she orders a bra that she returns. I just can't! I feel sorry for her. She can't find a bra that fits. What a nightmare! Hopefully the brazier I've ordered for her today will be the GOLDEN EGG of bras, and it will actually fit, and she’ll in turn order dozens more from me because of it... I’m trying to be positive.

It must be sad to not find a bra that will fit you. I could NEVER go bra less, could you? Some women have no problem just letting their “girls” just hang there, swinging to and fro, bouncing up and down…etc. Then you have women that wear their bra to extremes, even actually sleep with one on. I could not do that, but I couldn’t leave the house without one either. I guess I’m just not the Earthy Type woman.

Yesterday afternoon I saw many Earthy Type women walking around downtown. I think I've mentioned to you before that I come from a very laid back, earthy, hippie kind of surf town. I didn't realize how different it was until I actually moved to another town. Well, lets just say this town is full of very EARTHY women. It was a beautiful day outside, and there was an open Farmer’s Market downtown, and a group of hippie looking guys, and earthy women were playing their drums, and dancing about with tamborines, while preppie types were holding their lattes intermingling with the more conservative types shopping for tomatoes and brussel sprouts. They looked like they were having a fun time, but I wasn't. I was not at the market, no rather I was driving up and down the main street, dodging the happy Earthy People of downtown Santa Cruz, looking for my teenage son who could not be reached by his cell phone. I did eventually find him 45 minutes later, after he had realized his "ringer was off". However, I didn't leave town without causing a disturbance. I did the unthinkable and honked the horn at my son who suddenly went blind, (I was pissed) startling a few Earthy women who were engaged in convesation at the organic super market. I'm sure they were talking about vegetables or hemp, or something Earthy, and I'm sure they are still talking about my loud, gas guzzling van, and my rude horn honking, and how women like me will ruin the Mother Earth one day, but what the hell. At least I'm wearing a bra that fits! Sometimes that is all that matters.

Cheap Hair

2009-08-03T18:45:00.000-07:00

I’ve been kind of “down” a few days due to my boys both catching colds, and then passing them down to yours truly. You’d think I’d be immune by now from all the exposure, but I got a small dose of it, so it didn’t hit me too hard.

It’s August already… Yesterday, 7 years ago my dad passed away. Weird. It doesn't seem that long ago. It seems like yesterday. I look at Nicholas and that is when I realize how the years are just flying by. Nicholas will be six years old in November already. My daughter, Lizzy is going to turn 21 next month. Damn. Dad was right. When you get older the years zoom by.

We have one more little trip to do before the kids start school this month---the long awaited trip to Disneyland! Yay! This time my husband is going! Yay! He isn’t that thrilled, but who knows when the next time will come when we can go on a road trip with all the kids. We’ll be stopping in Venice for a short time to visit his step sister, Janet, and the kids are as much looking forward to that as much as Disneyland. We had a lot of fun there last year, and the weather was beautiful.

My hair has gotten really long, so I went to get a hair cut yesterday. I will be the first to tell you that I really don’t spend that much money on my hair, unless I get a perm-which I haven’t in many, many years. If I color my hair, I do it from the box. I go to Super Cuts to get my hair cut. I don’t need anyone to tell me my hair is dry on the ends when it gets long. Duh.. That is what happens when my hair gets long, so when the guy who is cutting my hair starts telling me in his broken English that my hair is dry because I don’t use a certain shampoo, I know it’s just a ploy to get me to buy shampoo that is going to be more expensive than my actual haircut. I just humor the guy to not come across rude, but I never say I’m going to buy anything. I know my hair is healthy. I have a lot of thick, wavy, hair. Normally, I get compliments on my hair. He then starts spraying something in my hair, and goes on to say, “Doesn’t that smell good?” Sure it smells good. It’s not going to smell bad. I nod my head to say, yes it smells good. I’m not going to contradict anything this guy says, especially when he is holding a scissors to my head.

After the cut, he starts raving about my “now beautiful hair” and what a difference that “spray” had done! My hair is nice now because my dry ends are cut-it isn’t the spray. As he proceeds to take off my apron, he shows me the sale of shampoo on display. Two bottles for $35! What a deal, right. I politely tell him, “No thanks, not this time, but thank you.” What does the guy do? He just goes and on in front of the people in the waiting room. “But this is sale price! This is a good deal!” He goes on to plead his case. I tell him, “Sorry, no thanks.” Well, he turns away with a sad look on his face like a wounded dog. Oh brother. If I wanted to spend $35 on shampoo, I wouldn’t be going to the neighborhood Super Cuts. I’m cheap, okay? Deal with it. I gave him a nice tip, but I didn’t even get an “I thank you.” The girl who took my transaction mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” Whatever, but I do like my haircut.

Nick playing between his daddy's legs at his brother Matt's graduation.

Me & The Boys

2009-07-27T15:20:00.000-07:00

Well, Friday was not fun and sun as originally planned in my last entry…

No, Friday was spent snuggling on the bed all day watching Sponge Bob with my little guy. Nicholas apparently caught a cold from his older brother Andrew. Andrew has been fighting a cold too, and his friends he has hanging out with all summer (whom I refer to as The Lost Boys) are all coming down with the same symptoms. They had a small fever, but now that it gone. They still have that cough and stuffiness however. They are getting better…just not 100% yet.

Andrew has been spending most of his summer at his grandma’s house. Well, may be I should refer to my mom’s house as, “Anna’s Hotel”. You see, Andrew doesn’t really spend all of his summer at his grandmother’s house—but rather with his friends from his old school. They like to hang out downtown, and go to the beach, and work on their music. That is totally fine with me, I mean he should enjoy his summer, but he just gets home to my mom’s house a little too late for my liking, with a friend or two in tow with him. My mom enjoys her grandson’s company, but lately, I think she if feeling more like an owner of a bed and breakfast. Andrew’s friends just adore my mom. For some of them, I think it’s the only time they actually get a hot breakfast in the morning. I’m sorry, but some of my son’s friends come across as orphans to me-they are all pretty much good kids, but “lost”. Call me over-bearing, but some of the parents of these kids come across really flakey to me. I have met a few of them, and they just seem to laugh off my concerns, with “typical teenager” comments. Perhaps I’m over-reacting, or may be its because I work where I do and know of things that go on, or may be I was raised in a very protective environment (my parents never let us out at night—nights were spent watching The Love Boat and Fantasy Island with cookies and milk-unless we were in the Azores when we could stay up till 2 a.m. because it was “safe” there.) but I don’t like my son walking downtown after dark, and I insist on him being at home by a certain hour. I’ve been voicing my concerns to Andrew, and I have told him that his friends remind me of the Lost Boys from Peter Pan. Of course Andrew thinks it’s hilarious.

Andrew has been home for the last two days, and it has been so nice to have my “Lost Boy” at home, having him sit next to me on the couch, without me worrying where he is with the rest of his crew. No calls from my mom asking where he is because it’s almost 9 pm, and not getting calls from lost boy explaining:

“But mom, it’s not really dark yet outside!”

True, you got to love these summer evenings when it’s not really dark until 9:30, but still. School starts on August 17th for him. I would be lying if I told you that I wasn’t looking forward to it.

Lots of things to look forward to this summer however! In a few weeks we’ll be going to pay a visit to my husband’s cool step-sister, Janet-aka: Aunt Janet in Venice, California, and they off to Disneyland for a few days. Then, school starts, and Matt starts college. It will be strange not having a 6’3 “man boy” around the house. I wonder how long it will take for him to miss us. (He doesn’t think he will, but I beg to differ).

Looking further ahead, Lizzy is going to be turning 21 the first week of September. Instead of going to bars, she wants to stay home and have a barbecue and watch movies in the backyard. Sounds good to me! I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked for a jump house again to tell you the truth.

Work Furlough Day

2009-07-23T19:23:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is Friday, and because I am a county employee, I don’t go to work tomorrow. Tomorrow is a “work furlough day” which means, we have an unpaid work “holiday” in order to save money = jobs. I’m already volunteered to work a 30 hour week, but I still have to take all furlough days like everyone else. Counties got off lucky---they only have one day a month—state agencies have to take two days off each month—that’s 10% of their salary.

So, I’m sitting here thinking of ways I can spend this furlough day. Here are some ideas that I have entertained:

I could sleep in and stay in pajamas all day.

Okay that is not realistic at all. It would be a complete waste of a day…my kids would prevent this from happening somehow.

I could go to the grocery store.

Good idea. I need to stock up on juice. I buy a gallon of juice—it’s gone by the end of the day. I’m not kidding. Juice does not last long in my house…nor does toilet paper, and paper towels.

I could go Avon pushing.

Yes, I could grab my chili pepper bag and go door to door pushing Avon to the neighbors in the neighborhood. Who am I kidding? I’d rather just throw a brochure on their welcome mat instead-I’m not a in your face Avon lady---not a top seller by any means, but I could put on my Curves pants and burn off some poundage. By the way, there are a lot of big summer deals at Avon. If you want free shipping---inquire within.

I could clean the house.

I could clean the house any day…why do it on my day off? Nah..scratch this one off!

I could go to the beach.

I like this one. I haven’t been to the beach for what seems forever, and when I finally do it’s already the end of summer, and I want to kick myself for not doing it sooner or more often. I bought some new sand toys for Nicholas, and the weather has been great.

Beach it is.

P.S. I took my son to his swimming lesson this afternoon. The Drama Mama lady was not there. This is a good thing.. :)

Drama At The Pool

2009-07-22T13:24:00.000-07:00

It’s Wednesday!

So far it’s been kind of a busy summer! Nicholas is now out of summer school, so now I actually can enjoy a whole hour lunch without rushing around back and forth. Now I can take a breather until school starts again next month. It’s kind of sad that school starts so soon already. Andrew starts back up on August 17th, and Nick starts again on the 26th. Why can’t school start AFTER Labor Day like when I was a kid? Of course, when I was a kid, we didn’t have mini days every week, or teacher work days where the kids don’t have school like they have now.

Nicholas still has his swimming lessons twice a week and is really enjoying it. It’s fun to watch him floating around, getting all excited about blowing bubbles, but lately there has been quite a bit of drama at the pool.

In front of the pool there is a “splash pad” where the kids can go and run through the sprinklers and stuff after their lessons are before their lessons. It’s now closed. Okay, I’m a little more pleased than my son is about it mainly because it was always such a pain in the butt to get him out of there to go home. But, there is one person in particular that I know of that complained about it—and I think she made a point of complaining on her cell phone in front of ME.

The reason why I think she was directing her complaint towards me was because a few days previous, Nicholas was not listening to me, and made a big fuss to not leave when I asked him to leave. It was the day when I actually had to go to the splash pad and run after him to get his little butt in the car to go home.

Well anyway, I’m sitting there on the bench watching Nicholas playing in the splash pad after his lesson with other kids, and here is this mother with her designer sunglasses sitting right next to me. I was a little surprised that she sat so close. If you saw us you would think she was a relative or a close friend who stopped to chat with me. She sat a little too close for comfort---if you know what I mean. Well anyway, she gets on her cell phone and talks away to her what I’m guessing was her significant other complaining and whining. Her major complaint was:

“Oh and there are kids playing in the splash pad right now. They have been in there for over 10 minutes! When Sara finishes her lesson she is only allowed to be in there for like, 30 seconds! It’s just not fair!”

Blah…Blah…Blah…

“Oh, and I don’t know if I’m going to continue with lessons here because they won’t even let the parents sit near to watch, and we have to sit by this splash pad, and it’s too noisy, and the kids are so disruptive!”

Then she gets off the phone, and calls the swimming school directly and leaves a message to have them call her back because she has a complaint.

Of course everyone can hear her talk away complaining and whining, and suddenly we mothers who have been watching our “disruptive children” get up as if in unison with out towels telling the kids to get out. Luckily, Nicholas got out without argument.

At the next lesson, the splash pad was turned off. Nicholas asked again why the splash pad was turned off, and he got the same explanation about some of the parents complaining about it.

Yesterday, the splash pool was still turned off, and I noticed the whining complaining woman who had complained on her cell phone about it being “so disruptive and so unfair” had just walked in. I thought she would be pleased to see it turned off, but apparently, that wasn’t the case. She actually let her daughter go in and turn in on. I guess she felt her daughter wouldn’t be disruptive. Then hell broke loose.

One of the teachers called out to her daughter that she couldn’t play there, and it was closed. Of course the girl’s mother took offense and told the teacher to: “Do not yell at my daughter!”

Oh brother!

The teacher did not yell---she merely said it loud enough so the little girl could hear her from the pool, and she certainly wasn’t rude at all.

Well I and Nicholas quickly left the scene—it was getting tense. I had to laugh. I’m sorry. This lady was full of bull crap. First she complains about it being on, and then she wants it on for HER DAUGHTER. Right!! I hope she saw me laugh too.

My name is Julie, and my carpets are just fine!

2009-07-15T22:30:00.000-07:00

This afternoon, I get a call at home from an automated solicitation call:

"Isn't it time you cleaned your carpets?"

No hello, or how are you--just an automated operator telling me that my carpets are dirty. I immediately told the automated operator to "F you!" as I hung up the phone.

Yes, I'm having one of those weeks. I usually don't say the F word, nor do I usually talk back to automated operators.

Yes, it's been one of those weeks: Nicholas is testing his boundaries again! He is in that mode: "How long will it take for mommy to chase me around the playground, if I run in circles and hide behind a tree." He apparently was playing the same game with his grandmother this afternoon. My mother was not pleased--especially when he threw her shopping list she had written over the fence in the neighbor's backyard! "Now my neighbors are going to know what I need at the store!" Sure they could care less, I'm sure---even if they could read my mother's writing--(another story). So, I left a hour early from work and raced over to my mother's house, where I immediately met Nicholas in the front yard, wearing a devilish grin. After chasing him around the house, into the house, upstairs, and onto the deck, and dragged him into the van--finally strapping him in. I was ready to go home and try to relax.

Nicholas finally fell asleep in the van, and joyfully he continued to take a nice long nap at home...when the phone rings, and this automated operator tells me that my carpet is not clean.

I HATE solicitation calls---especially from automated operators!! I get these calls at work for refinance, insurance for my credit cards..etc..etc... I even get calls from President Obama telling me to go back to school! I PRESS THE 2 button like they tell me to STOP getting these calls - to be taken off the phone list, but does it work?! No--it doesn't!!

Okay, and now lets talk about the solicitation calls with REAL people. What a joy they are. I cannot tell you how many times people call me and ask for "Maureen". That is not my name. That is my husband's ex-wifes name. I tell them, and try and correct them, but it never works--they don't care. I was once sent a whole kit to distribute in the neighborhood for a charitible cause, but they still sent it to Maureen. I sent it back. They called, and asked me why--I told them they had the wrong person. My name is Julie. I not only get calls for her, I also get mail for her. Why in the hell do I get her mail? She has never lived at this address! Not only do I get calls and mail, I also get free samples. Today I got free samples of Kotex Maxi Pads with wings, and panty liners! Okay..I'll keep those, but what I want to know is WHY I get mail for her MOTHER-IN-LAW?! Not my husband's mother, but her new spouse's mother! WHY??!!

Okay.. Perhaps the real reason I'm feeling angry is because I REALLY think my carpets need a good cleaning. Now I got a call confirming what I already know. Lovely. You know how hard it is to keep a carpet clean with teenagers and a 5 year old and a husband, and an art student?! Time to get my steamer out this weekend...

Hello, Sunday!

2009-07-12T09:29:00.001-07:00

Otilia - my sister-in-law and friend.

The above picture was sent to me my ex-husband's niece. It was one of the last pictures she took before she passed away. Now that she is gone, I am getting emails from my nieces in the Azores more often. Technically, they are my ex-nieces, but I prefer to just call them nieces. They don't refer me to Ex-Aunt Julie---always, Tia Julie. Sounds kind of weird. Tia Julia--that sounds better, huh? Oh well, I'm grateful I'm still referred to as an aunt of theirs, and I'm thrilled that my daughter is in contact with her cousins. One of them is getting married next summer, so with this wedding, and my cousin Tania's wedding, we may be able to see both! Only one catch---my ex-husband will probably be there.

How awkward is that? Where do I sit at church? In the back, or in the front? You see, I don't talk to my ex-husband. He lives in New Jersey, so there really isn't a need to. I never run into him at the store, or see him driving down the street. The only time I do talk to him, is when I need to relay an important message, and when I do, I hope voicemal picks it up instead of him. We won't even talk about his wife--no I don't talk to her either. Do I sit in the church pew with them?! Do I bring my husband with me? Oh gosh..I don't know why I'm thinking about this NOW--it is a year away for God's sake. Perhaps, I'll just show up for the wedding, give the happy couple my wishes, and not go to the reception. Then I can worry all night whether or not their dad drank too much, and wait until the wee hours of the morning for the safe return of my two children. In the Azores cafes don't close until 3 am, so maybe I just hang out there all night with a cousin of mine. Sigh.. It was awkward enough sitting through my step-son's graduation with my husband's ex sitting on the other side of him. I was pretty much viewed as invisible.

Sometimes I think it's easier to be "invisible".

Well, it's Sunday morning, and I'm reflecting over the last week.. It was a good week. It started at the Portuguese parade, church service, and the Portuguese Hall. My cousin Tom and his wife and two kids were there--always nice to see them. You know, I had my camera with me, but I did not take any pictures for some reason. Tuesday was my mother's birthday, so I took the afternoon off and took her out to lunch with the boys-Andrew, his friend Cyrus and Nicholas. Then later I took her to Nicholas' swimming lesson so she could see him swim.

Friday night, Andrew had another performance at the hip hop dance downtown, so Rich and I made a date night out of it and had a nice dinner near the wharf. We are were seated at the corner patio over looking the mouth of the wharf, and watched all the sailboats and motor boats all dock one by one.. It was very pretty. I wish I had my camera that night. Seated next to us, in their Gucci sunglasses, gold jewlery and low-cut "booty call" tight blouses, were the "Housewives of Santa Cruz County." There were six, very blonde, big bosom women sitting there celebrating a divorce--(I've been to one of those gatherings a few times). It was pretty interesting. The more they ordered drinks, the louder they got, and we all got to hear about the divorce, and the rotten husbands and various men of their past, and the runs with the police being called to their homes..etc.. Then the most vocal of them all, started talking about the Bible, and how she disapproved of one of their mutual friends of how she allowed her husband to cheat...etc..etc.. It was interesting to say the least. My husband's back was facing their table, and from where I was sitting I could see various men seated at the restaurant glancing, and staring towards the "Blonde Table" every now and then. I also saw some looks for some disapproving wives...ha ha.. I asked Rich if he was listening to any parts of the conversation behind him, and he said yes. He expects that they would eventually drink a little too much and end up calling up their ex-husbands by the end of the night.

We later saw a movie, The Purposal. It was a cute movie, but it reminded me of that other movie Sandra Bullock did---While You Were Sleeping. I kept on expecting to see Bill Pullman show up. It was a funny, cute movie though---a must see if you are a fan of Betty White and the guy from The Office - you got to see it to believe it!

We got home so late Friday night, Saturday as just spent cleaning and working in the attic. I was able to take another brisk walk around the neighborhood later yesterday with my new IPOD. My God...I love my little Apple Shuffle IPOD! I was prancing around the neighborhood listening to ABBA Gold the whole time, and I was strutting to the music in my Curves trimming pants! There is nothing more liberating strutting to Gimme Gimme Gimme A Man After Midnight down the neighborhood. I hope no one saw me dance!