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The baby is crying....

I don't know what's wrong with her, so I put her to bed and let her work it out. We'll see how long it goes before she stops crying. It slows, goes away, and then starts back up again.

I got an invitation to THE party of the season in Philadelphia. A lot of law firms have their own parties, but several of the big name guys get together every year and host a huge party with open bar and heavy hors d'overs (sp?) and lot of important people in the world of criminal law and the Court of Common Pleas. There are so many stories about how great it is and who shows up, and how great the food is. Last week, one of the lawyers walked into the court room with the invitations, handed one to the court crier, one to the court clerk, and then one to me. I was elated. The court clerk and I excused ourselves to the empty jury room to jump up and down and do a little dance. I AM SO FREAKING EXCITED. Free booze and tons of networking!! The court officer that I work with has gone for the past few years, and he's going to get me into the music room with the pianist to sing! YAY! Now, if only I knew some Christmas songs. Dammit. Being a bah humbug will definately come around to bite me in the ass if I start taking requests!

Maura just started back up again. She wails once or twice then stops..then wails, then stops. I hope she's not getting sick. She rarely naps at the babysitters, so I'm trying to attribute it to over-tiredness. We'll see.

Hubby bought me this gorgeous crushed red velvet top to wear to the party. It's very nice and festive. It'll look great. I'm so excited. I'm going to network my ass off...and drink for free too...and hubby is staying home with the kids. This is going to be a fun fun night.

She was quiet for a while..then she coughed (dammit) and started to cry again. PLEASE god let her sleep. Maybe I'll give her something to drink....


Now i'm finished with formatting and she hasn't started beck up yet. Good. I'm going to have a nice hot bath.

today

Is a very special day, and I just wanted to take a moment to wish my friend a happy birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JLWS!!!!!!! HELL to the YEAH!!!!

to make lite of the blogger tiff.....

You can't even be put in the Miles Thirst Family -
you are NOT COOL - please visit the Hip-Hop
Translator in the Zillapedia to get up to
speed.


How well do you know your Hip Hop lingo?
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...so i was bored...this kinda surprised me though

Divided Sky! You're peaceful and content, and would
like nothing more than to run out and fly a
kite on a nice summer day. Your personality is
complex and has several different facets, but
in general you just tend to be in a good mood,
which is why everyone likes you so much.


Which Phish Song Are You?
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ok...i suck, but I had to do it to get in touch with some peeps....

Find me on MySpace and be my friend!

Here is my birthday update….

On my actual birthday, I expected to go to work, have lunch with some girlfriends, and then go home and to choir practice at church. I got up and went to work, where I had cards and flowers from the girls and then went to lunch with the girls and actually had a very nice time. At around 4:30, my husband showed up with the kids to surprise me and we ended up hanging out in town. They had the tree lighting and the lighting of City Hall which is very unique. They have a projection up on the front and back of the building that makes it look different colors. I try to find a good picture to post.

Santa was there with Mrs. Claus along with many elves. They all had cookies and were giving them out to all the children. My husband was hitting on Mrs. Claus. That was kind of funny. Anyway, there was free Starbucks (NO CARIBOU IN PA, dammit!) and free hot chocolate and also people giving out coupons. A man came over and gave us coupons for Olive Garden, and the one in Center City is WAY nicer than the one up in the Northeast, where we live, so we decided to go to dinner and had a lovely time.

Friday night we went to a Christmas party. It was lame. It was a bunch of old heads that Billy went to school with. I just sat around and ate the food and watched all the old people. JJ

Sunday night is what I am anxious to write about. My mother-in-law and father-in-law have been wanting to take me to this restaurant in South Philly called the Victor Café. They told me that the food is great, and they have singers that sing “opera songs” – as they called them – and I simply had to go, kids included. So I’m thinking a family version of Macaroni Grill where they will sing Happy Birthday in very bad Italian and selections from the catalogue of 24 Italian Songs and Arias…. Then they wanted me to bring the kids, since they are completely baby CRAZY, and I’m dreading that because nice restaurants + my children and family= fussy whiny kids!! As a precaution, we had a “family nap” on Sunday afternoon so that we could all be rested and hopefully well behaved!

We picked up my in-laws due to the snow, and drove down to South Philly. We came to the restaurant and went inside to find a small place with pictures of opera singers and composers all over the walls. They also had busts above the bar! I found once I went in that the place was named for Victor, the RCA dog. There was an aria playing softly that I didn’t immediately recognize, but I was initially impressed at the atmosphere. We were shown to our seats by our server, who was ridiculously handsome and kind of reminded me of an old voice teacher I had in college. We ordered our food, and all the while, my mother in law kept insisting upon them ringing some bell. Evidently, they rang and bell just before an aria was sung. After a while, a server went up to the other side of the restaurant and rang a bell and sang one of the most beautiful renditions of Si, Mi Chiamano Mimi (Mimi’s aria from La Boheme) that I have ever heard. I was completely and absolutely beside myself! She was amazing and it was beautiful. After that, Ana asked me if I thought one of the singers there could do her favorite aria, so I had her ask our server. He asked which aria, and I told him, and he said that he knew a girl who could do it. The girl came over to the table and asked if we had a request, and Ana told her the aria, and she said that it was a tough one – and it is – but that she would think about it. They brought me my Crème Brule with a sparkler in it and sang Happy Birthday to me—In English, but like a true opera chorus. Immediately after that, the girl we had talked to about the request got up and stood on the steps just behind me and said “this is by request” and proceeded to sing Un Bel Di with such hope and abandon that I cried. As soon as she started to sing, I phoned mother and placed the cell phone on the table for her to hear it. The singer had so much feeling and emotion in her voice. When she was finished I couldn’t talk. I was in shock at how beautiful it was. My mom felt the same way. She was Suzuki in a production of Madama Butterfly when I was young, and loves that Aria. I couldn’t tell the girl enough how beautifully she sang. By the end of the night, we had heard the Toreador from Carmen, and Nessun Dorma, another of my favorites from Turandot. I could have sat there all night with my wine listening to the singers and wishing I was one of them.

What are you doing for New Years Eve??

I know I need to catch up and tell everyone about my birthday, but you're not missing anything, so don't worry. Right now I just wanted to let everyone know that I will be in GA for the week between Christmas and New Years, and I have decided to throw a New Years party at my mom's house in Cartersville. I want this to be a big fun party...as my parties weren't that sucessful up until my wedding...(which people in Cartersville are still talking about)...so I want this party to be just as successful....There will be food, drinks, fun, and whatever you want to bring to it - within reason, of course. Anyway, since i'm in Philly, i've decided that the best way for me to invite and get RSVPs and stuff is my EVITES!! So, if you want to be on my evite list, send me your email address to billyandmontie@yahoo.com and I would LOVE to have you there.

More details to come.

YAY!

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!

very interesting...

So i had this epiphany yesterday.... It was very strange, and I'm not sure how much of it i'll write about, considering my audience. That being said, if you have any questions, feel free to comment, and I'll elaborate if need be.

The things is that there used to be this person in my life. This person is not in my life at all anymore. I loved this person completely and unabashedly. I learned things that made me who I am from the relationship that I had with this person. Because of this person, I am who I am today; I do the things I do and live the way I live. This person loved me in his own way. He understood my insanity and my comings and goings. There was a time when I would have done anything for him. He will forever be a part of my life and I am forever changed having known him.

He wasn't an exceptional person. He didn't ride in on a white horse and sweep me off my feet. He did little things to show me how he felt. Some of those things he didn't even realize. We had a genuine and pure relationship. He knew me inside out, and I knew him better than he probably wanted me to.

Things ended horribly, and I couldn't wish anything but bad things for him. For years, I wanted to see him suffer. I wanted to see him hurt the way he had hurt me. I wanted someone to completely crush him; to bring him beyond his knees to the ground.

Until yesterday.

My hubby was cleaning out a closet and found something that belonged to this person. It's something that he probably doesn't realize that I have, and that I kinda knew I had, but had forgotten about it. It's something that he would probably like to have back, and it actually went through my head to wrap it up and send it to him for Christmas. Then came the epiphany.

I no longer wish terrible things for him. I no longer want to see him hurt. We are both totally different people now, better or worse, richer or poorer, fatter or thinner, and there is no reason why we both don't deserve happiness and peace in our lives. This came to me all of a sudden. It was very odd, and still kind of is. I sat there and thought about it a moment. I tried to wish that his girlfriend would suddenly hate him and break up with him and stomp his heart out, but that wish wouldn't come. I have a peace about my past with this person now, and it's really fucking with me. This is something that I have been unable to be peaceful about for a lot of years.

So, I wrote more than I thought I would, and if you read this, I love you. Not in a romantic or sexual way. I love the person that you are....because that person helped me define me. And come to think of it, I think you knew that's what you were doing the whole time.

Merry Christmas. No Christmas Ficus this year, okay?

Any suggestions for leftover tofurkey?

I loathe the holiday season....

I don't ruin it for other people. I can fake it with the best of them, and having kids make it better, but I really am not into the holidays. I really never have been. My husband, along with a couple of my other beaus in the past have been complete Christmas junkies....listening to Christmas carols as soon as freakin Halloween is over. This is lunacy, however, I deal. I get on with my life, make it fun for the kiddos, and avoid the radio stations that play all the holiday crap until February.

I don't remember quite when the holidays lost their magic for me. I know that I enjoyed Christmas as a kid, as most children do. I believed in Santa Claus forever. I even remember asking my mom that if I still be lieved in Santa when I was 15, would he still come visit me.... I was always assured that as long as I believed in Santa, he would visit me. The spirit of that is beautiful. My father was into the holidays, and always helped people whenever he could. When I was around 11 or so, he took my sister and me to visit this needy family to deliver them food and toys for Christmas. They were heating their house with their oven. The oven was on full blast and the door to it was wide open. I felt so sorry for that family, and so fortunate that I was in such a warm house with plenty of food and toys. I have tried to do something in that fashion every year since.

This have kinda changed since I've had kids. Having children around the holidays is cool, because I remember how much I loved getting together with my family. Thanksgiving and Christmas was the only time that I got to see my father's family. We would all meet at one person's house, and it was a pot luck, so we had certain dishes to look forward to every year, like Aunt Joyce's deviled eggs with the perfect amount of paprika, and Nancy's strawberry cake. My dad was known for his sausage biscuits. We all would gather together and visit for a while before eating, and before the meal, my dad, being the eldest male, would always say something about the particular holiday and then ask the blessing. Even later when my beliefs changed from my father's, I still appreciated what it meant to everyone else, and realized how precious these times were. As a mother, I want my children to have the same fond memories of the holidays.

Yesterday, it was all about the presentation. My sister in law is a wonderful hostess. She has a lot of money, and a beautiful house in the Philadelphia posh suburbs. Yesterday, she was expecting 16 people for Thanksgiving, so she decided to rent tables and chairs and use her dining room table as a buffet. This worked out well. She did most of the cooking, as she usually does - and does extremely well, I might add - and a few people brought desserts. I was really making an effort for my children and my husband to make the day wonderful and memorable. I know that the whole thing about what the settlers eventually did to the Native Americans was horrible, but that is NOT what Thanksgiving is about.

The night before Thanksgiving, at church, we were given loaves of bread with a prayer attached. The idea was to break the bread and pass it to everyone around the room and then say the prayer for the blessing before the meal. I asked my hubby to help me accomplish this, thinking people would listen to him more, since the majority of the people were his family, the exception being my mother and her fiance' and my sister-in-law's friend and her husband and son. Anyway, the food was all out on the table, and everyone was gathering, and my mother-in-law was making a plate for my father-in-law already because he hadn't been feeling well. My husband began to try to say something about the bread and about that time my sister-in-law started going off about how everyone should be getting the food because GOD FORBID it not be piping hot on your plate, and so everyone disregarded what my husband was saying and started to get their food...which probably shouldn't have upset me. I just feel like I have enough trouble as it is, not liking holidays and getting all sad about my dad and about missing my friend's back home, the LEAST they can do is try and help me make this day a little different from all the other for my children's sake. I want them to look back on holidays and remember family traditions and seeing people, not getting together and eating while it's hot and then having dessert and then going home. It was just like another day for them, sans the extra folks.

So the whole bread thing upset me, and I tried to not show it, and I may not have to everyone, but that's okay. It's over now, and I tried. Now they want to do Christmas Pollyana style. I don't like this idea, but that's another blog for another day.

Happy Tofurkey day.....

Liberty Overalls.....

I had the weirdest dream on Friday night about a guy that I was briefly involved with. It didn’t work out romantically, but we remained close. He was in love with me, and didn’t mind telling me that all the time, but I never felt the same way. I tried to feel it, but it just wasn’t there….and I know how shitty it can be to be in love with someone who doesn’t love you back….that’s another blog for another day….I was up front with him. I told him that I loved him as a person, and I appreciated the beautiful and wonderful person that was he, but that the romance type love just wasn’t there. He was a big man. He was taller than I and worked as a bouncer and as security at a few local Atlanta places. He led somewhat of a tragic life. His father committed suicide when he was young, and he dropped out of high school to care for his ailing mother, who died young as well. He was in bad health, but it was almost inevitable for him. He developed some serious problems, but gradually was trying to make himself better. I tried to stay there for him. I talked to him on the phone almost daily, and went to visit him as often as I could. He always told me how much he loved me, and how he understood that we could never be involved, but he appreciated our friendship, and I cherished it as well. He was a sweet, sweet man with just a bad deal of the cards.

The dream disturbed me. I woke up and suddenly wanted to talk to him. Right before I moved away, I talked to him. He had some surgery and was waiting to be placed in a rehab facility, and wasn’t sure where he would be. I left him all f my information and told him to get in touch with me as soon as he had a stable place to stay. He assured me that he would get in touch with me. He knew my mom as well, so he knew that he could call her if he lost my info. I told him to make sure and stay in touch with me. I told him that if something happened to him, no one would call me, because no one knows how to get in touch with me.

And no one did call me. I googled his name and found an obituary. I found an obituary that was over a year old. My stomach rolled around. I started to shake. I couldn’t believe it. I read it again and again, making sure that the birthday listed was his…making sure that the name was the same..and it was…right down to the middle name. It was plain as day and I am sad. I am so sad that no one got in touch with me. I am so sad that I didn’t try harder to stay in touch with him. Maybe there was something I could have done to help him. He used to always call me when he was down. I would promise to stay on the phone with him until he felt better. I feel terrible that he is gone, and worse that an entire year has passed….and still worse that I never got to say goodbye.

Goodbye, R. Even though I couldn’t love you the way that you wanted me to, I did love you. You were unique and special, and you didn’t deserve all the bad things you had to deal with in life. Thirty-five is way too young to die. I hope that wherever you are is kinder to you than this life was. You deserved so much better.

He makes me want to sing....

Okay, so I was poking around on this chick singer's web site and found this beautiful creature...





It has been a long time since I was literally moved to tears by a voice that just has the heart... He looks kinda like Cat Stevens with a bigger nose. He has the same little bobbing thing going on, and the same kinda feeling and heart, but it's all his own....

from Shelter...

"Listen when all of this around us'll fall over
I tell you what we're gonna do
You will shelter me my love
I will shelter you ..."

He is pure and beautiful, like a singer/songwriter should be. He makes me want to write. I could listen to him forever...

Possession, DUI, failure to maintain lane, eluding law enforcement, habitual violator, et al....

I made it through the singing....I'm at about 85% voice, which isn't that bad, so it sounded half-way decent. Sunday I was at about 40%, so I was thankful that it was all audible.


I saw Jim's name in the Bartow blotter. I hate that I have to read that every day just to see what's going on with some of my old acquaintances. Jim was more of an acquaintance though. He brought out so much in me at one time. I will never forget the first time that I saw him. I was completely mezmorized; entranced; He was tall - taller than I am. He had long red hair and it was in braids all piled up on the top of his head. We were sitting in the waiting area of the principal's office. He was a new kid. He was from California. He had Doc Martins that went up to his knees and they were GREEN! I wanted to know him. I wanted to want him.

He dated a friend of mine, so I started hanging out with her more to be around him. There were stories of him taking her virginity. There were parties I never had the guts to go to. Somehow, we became friends....then he dropped out of school. I would seee him occasionally in town. He drove a little black volkswagon GTI with a red stripe down the side. When I worked at K-Mart, he and Jason and a couple of the other guys in our group of friends would come by and I would give them stuff for free...."just pretend to scan it and put it in the bag!!"---Anything for him to think I was cool. He was so gorgeous.

He came back to school. He sought me out. Suddenly, we were seen together all the time. We sat together at school functions. We walked to classes together. We stood outside after school and talked. He told me his problems. I told him my dreams and fears. He shared them with me. We connected. We understood each other. He became so much more than beautiful in my eyes, and I believed that I was in his. We always managed to run into each other at crazy times.

Then, he disappeared. For over a year, I never heard from him. I never saw his little black GTI around town. I never heard from his family....until the DAY of my wedding to my first husband. I was at my house getting ready, and the phone rings. It was him. Out of nowhere he called me, right before my wedding. He came over to my house the next day and brought his girlfriend and we started hanging out as a foursome. Things were cool. We shared life and drinking and various other abuse of substances....then I got divorced and he disappeared again.

I can't quite remember how I got back in touch with him. I remember running into him and sharing almost $90 worth of Hennessey at Applebee's. After that, things get kinda fuzzy. I think he started calling me from jail. He always had to call collect, and called all the time. I started to visit him. I visited him faithfully. A part of me still wanted more from him. A part of me would have done anything for him. When he got out of jail, we were together all the time. I finally got to know him in all the ways I had wanted to. I taught him how to kiss, an he taught me to let go. I did let go, but by then it was too late. He had begun his downward spiral long before I came along. His insight was fading; his intellect gone. We no longer shared any dreams or fears. He became the victim...the one who always got the raw deal...the why guy...My life was changing.

My relationship with the man i loved at the time was ending. My father was dying. My daughter was growing and demanded me to GROW UP. The night before my dad went into the hospital for the last time, Jim was at my mother's house with me. Then, he disappeared.

He showed up a couple of months later at my house in Atlanta. He didn't tell me why he was there until a couple of days later when he told me he was hiding from the cops. I told him I couldn't deal with that. I couldn't put any risk on my daughter. I put him out of my house, and out of my life.

My mother said to me tonight "I saw in the blotter where ole what's his name was in trouble with the law again..." Some things never change I guess. I hate that I always see the potential in people...what they "could be" instead of what they really are and who they really are. I've been bitten in the ass again and again for that. I still care about him. I knew the beautiful wonderful him. I'm glad I did. I'm glad I had him in my life. I just wish there was more to his.

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.