Adding insult to injury.....

The Septa strike sucks. I get to carpool, which is cool, but the parking deck at my job is $21 per day. It all sucks very much. I don't have a lot of time to blog about it right now, but I will soon. Right now, I feel like death from some respiratory malfunction, and I hate that Septa is on strike. Dammit. Marta never went on strike. I hate unions.

ARGH!

MUST......SING....TODAY......

HAVE....TO....SING......

HOT....WHISKEY.....GOOD.....GOOOOOD........

HELP....WOMAN.....SING..........

what was I thinking....

I now know how to end the war: send a bunch of 8 year old girls with flashlights.

The flashlights were my brilliant husband's idea, and he is brilliant. They flashlights made the whole night at Ana's slumber party. I spread out blankets and sheets and had pillows all over the living room floor and furniture, and then hung streamers all around the room. Billy blew up balloons and the big punching thingys and tossed them all over the room. After pizza and cake they danced in the dark in their pajamas with flashlights all night long. It was great for them. They had a blast. Billy even let them put make up on him! I'll hafta post pictures of that as soon as I get them.

I tried to sleep on the couch, but I couldn't, and so I was back and forth between my bedroom and the living room all night. They finally crashed around 12:30 or 1am. Dropping like flies....it was funny. And then they were up at like 7:45. I am completely exhausted. I lost my voice. Funny how that's always the first thing to go when I don't get sleep...especially when I'm supposed to sing the next day.

Billy took them to the playground. They all should be going home soon. Then, tonight, it's a nice hot bath and a few hot whiskeys for me....

and a good night's sleep.........

ahhhhhhhhhh...

A Mental Health Day.....

It is so nice to be home with my little one today. It's going to be a long weekend, so I decided to take a day to clean house and relax. It's been a while, and I deserve it, I think. The coffee is still hot; I'm in sweat pants and a t-shirt; I'm wearing my glasses, and my hair is all curly from being washed last night. My state of mind is incredible. If I can get my house clean I'll feel even better, but for now, a good cup of coffee and daytime TV sounds really nice while the baby is napping. The cleaning can wait for another hour or so. I even got out my piano books this morning and fingered through some Chopin and Schumann...I think I'll plink around on my mandolin too.

oh...to be a housewife....to be independantly wealthy and not have to work....

I don't think I'd get bored...

And she sang Amazing Grace...with a voice that made me all warm inside....

Buddy’s funeral was yesterday and it was a very suitable service. It was mildly religious, but not a Catholic mass or anything. Only 5 of us from work were there. I thought more would come, but everyone had gone to the wake the night before, so they didn’t want to go to the funeral.

I have issues with dead bodies. I think it’s crude that people put dead bodies on display for people. They never look good, in my opinion. When I was young my cousin committed suicide. I think that was the first time that I ever saw a dead body. I remember my aunt standing with her son over the body. She was playing with her dead daughter’s hair. I remember thinking that she looked like a doll. Her skin didn’t look soft and nice, but like felt almost. I remember saying to my parents that it was the worst day of my life. She was a beautiful girl, buried in her prom dress. It was silver taffeta with black polka dots. I remember when she got it. She died from a prozac overdose. She was 18.

When my grandfather died, there was kind of a screen on the casket over his body. He had died of liver cancer, and was kind of yellow. I decided then that I had had enough of dead bodies. When my aunt passed away, I was so devastated that I didn’t even go to the wake. Then the next day, when it was time for the funeral, I asked my mom if I could see the body, and I found out that my aunt had been cremated. I was even more upset. When I was 18 a friend was killed in a car accident. She had a little Geo and was hit by a tractor-trailer. Somehow, they managed to make her body presentable for the wake. She had on a lot of make up, but she always did, so it wasn’t that bad – But when my friend Beth died in a car accident when I was 19 – 3 days after my first daughter was born – it was obvious that her fingers were broken. She had on very dark make-up and dark lipstick…and she never even wore make up. Her mom said to me – “She looks so peaceful..” I remember thinking – “NO!! She doesn’t! She looks like HELL. It’s not her! It’s a DEAD BODY!..”

I can’t remember what my father looked like in the casket. I vaguely remember him in the hospital bed when I walked in and they told me that he was gone. I remember a room full of people that had all gotten there before me, even though I lived the closest to the hospital. I remember hugging my sister, and looking over at the body, and immediately running out of the room. That was a dead body. That was NOT my father.

Buddy’s mustache was too short. His skin looked rubbery and strange. His skin was an odd color. – And one of the girls that used to work with us, who barely knew him – said “He looks good…” Dammit. It was a DEAD FUCKING BODY, and he looked HORRIBLE.

At least they dressed him in jeans and a polo. If he’d had on a suit I’d have been yelling at people.

I meant what i put the first time....

Under the advice of the ever so proper Pablo over at kungfu, I have adapted the title of my blog.

I will elaborate. When I moved to Philly, it was a new start. I picked up and left everything and everyone I had ever known, and completely started over. I even cut my hair off and dyed it red! I'm back to my natural blonde now, but the thing is, I started anew. I am no longer a Georgia girl. I am from Georgia, but by transplant, I am a PHILLY GIRL. I have made a new life for myself in Philly. I am happier, I am healthier, and I am doing damn well, if I do say so myself!

Anyway, I was told that i may be throwing some people off, and if I have, I apologize. I aim to please....Pablo anyway....and so I have adapted my title.

Everybody have fun.

www.kungfuonline.org

get some.

Friday: Me and the drink....

Wow…what a weekend.

I have a taste for good Irish whisky. I used to drink Scotch; and while I still enjoy a good single malt, I can pace myself.

I love Irish whisky.

Sometimes there are people that you just click with. I like to think that they are in the same soul group.

Last Friday was Raul’s last day in our office. He is going to be a warrant investigator. He and I pretty much hit it off from the start. He kind of reminds me of one of my good friends from back home. He’s Italian, and from South Philly. He is older than I am, but not by much. He is a very unique person, and we relate very well. His is in that soul group of mine that I consider to be very small. We have a very close relationship. It’s not romantic or anything, but we have a great time together. On Friday, we had so much fun.

We started at lunch. My friend Laura and I got him a few small gifts, most of which were meant to be gags, but just the same, they were gifts. Let me just first of all say that my friend Laura is absolutely gorgeous. She is tall and thin and beautiful and sweet and physically flawless, with a wonderful personality. Ralph has wanted her for a long time…and he’s not the only one. Anyway, she managed to get our lunch tab taken care of by the owner of the bar where we had been, and needless to say, Ralph and I were unable to leave when everybody else did. He and I hung out until we felt that we could walk, and then went back to work, where I poured my heart out to my judge’s personal. I think he was a bad influence.

After work, I met Raul at his favorite bar, Fergie’s. I have been there a few times with him. A couple of our other co-workers were there. That’s where the whisky came in. It went down way to easily. It was way too good. I had such a wonderful night. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.

Thanks, Mo and Ralph…..

my Buddy

Today I lost a good friend. I miss him.

He was a great man. He had the best stories ever. I will really miss him.

One of the last times I saw him was at the 50th birthday party for a friend that we work with. It was a great time. I hung out with him most of the night. How could we know that he would be dead in less than a month. We had a wonderful time together that night. He was a gentle man with a pure heart.....

did I mention his stories???? Non of them are quite appropriate to type...in fact, I was the only girl to hear most of them...but they were absolutely great.

We had our own wave.

He would always tell Georgia hello when he was driving through on his way to Florida. Now, i'll have to tell Florida hello for him.

Rest in Peace, Buddy. Go fishin.

i'll miss you.

A moment.....

I dated a guy years ago. We were pretty serious, I thought. We were never in the same place. Something that he said struck me today, almost out of nowhere, but not completely unfounded. He knew that I had grown up in church, and had since completely stopped going for whatever reason. He was never really into church at all. One day, out of the blue, he tells me that I should go to church. It wasn't in a "you need Jesus" kind of way. It was more like "you might function better if you had something more to be involved with, i.e. church..."

After my father died, I went to a social event with the church that my mother had been a part of for years. It was not the church that I grew up in. It was very small, and it seemed that everyone was either blood related, or had married into each other's families....so typical country southern baptist church. I surprised myself at how much fun I had, so I started going semi-regularly. Sometimes I got something out if it, sometimes I didn't...but I enjoyed it. It was some structure in my live that I had been missing. Maybe that's what he meant...maybe it was the structure.

When I moved up here, I went to several different churches. I didn't like to go without my husband. He told me that if I would *please* go to a Catholic church, that he would go....this after actually going with me to the Calvary Chapel...which he so lovingly refers to as a cult. I decided to give the ole Catholic church a try. Ana would be going to school there anyway - since the public schools are shit - so I started going, and I actually found all the ritual stuff to be cool. Baptists are minimalists when it comes to the actual worship service. The churches are not particularly fancy, and there isn't a lot of ritual involved. To me, the ritual seemed humbling. At any rate, to make a long story shorter (kinda), I went through the RCIA classes, was amazed at how liberal and free thinking and accepting this church was, and decided to convert. I joined the choir and everything.
I think it's the singing again on a regular basis...Especially when the director handed me a song tonight and asked if I could "take a look at the verses..." It's a beautiful song by David Haas called "Do Not Let Your Hearts Be Troubled." It's not very difficult. It's very simple and beautiful.

It makes me smile.

A lot of ridiculousness......

It’s ridiculous that I work my ass off at a job that I
don’t hate, but get paid NOTHING for. It’s ridiculous
how I am treated like a child there. It’s ridiculous
that the interpreter in my court room right now barely
speaks Spanish. It’s ridiculous that this Assistant
District Attorney has a job. It’s ridiculous that it
is almost 2pm, and I’ve had no hint of a lunch break.
It’s ridiculous that I read blogs of my ex-boyfriend’s
girlfriend(s). It’s ridiculous that she seems so
contented with him. It’s ridiculous that knows
exactly what to do to make girls fall for him. It’s
ridiculous that we have 2 incomes in our house, and no
money. It’s ridiculous that my husband has a college
degree, and that I have some college education, and we
still are broke. It’s ridiculous that we live in a 2
bedroom apt with 2 kids, a dog and a hamster, and of
late, a mouse. It’s ridiculous that my house stays
such a f*cking mess. It’s ridiculous that all the
people in the room where I am are talking at once.
It’s ridiculous that I haven’t found another job yet.
It’s ridiculous that I can’t get a good gig at a
decent bar here. It’s ridiculous that my sister is
dating a complete loser. It’s ridiculous that I don’t
update this blog more often. It’s ridiculous that my
friend in Atlanta can receive emails from me, but
cannot send any to me. It’s ridiculous that I go down
to Georgia about twice a year. It’s ridiculous that
there are people that I haven’t seen since my wedding
that I consider to be some of my “best” friends. It’s
ridiculous that I haven’t smacked this ADA in the head
yet. It’s ridiculous how cold it is in this room.
It’s ridiculous that we have such a whack job for a
president in this country. It’s ridiculous that this
interpreter begins every sentence with the word
“entonces.” It’s ridiculous that my Spanish is better
than his. It’s ridiculous that I am actually sitting
here, typing this out, with all this going on and I’m
hungry and cold.

NICE!!!!!

Your Daddy Is Pedro Martinez

What You Call Him: Daddy Dearest Why You Love Him: He's your sugar daddy

Who's Your Daddy?

go figure.....who'd've thunk it?

You are a Social Liberal (75% permissive) and an... Economic Moderate (50% permissive) You are best described as a: Democrat Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test