TRUE FRIENDS ARE LIKE DIAMONDS

Stephanie says:
Hey there......are you there??
Catherine says:
Yes -- you have actually caught me at a desk - not running around - or Brian playing Simms here - WALA! so ...Hello hello hello hello hello
Catherine says:
for all the times I've missed your ims here
Stephanie says:
My goodness....how are you?    Its been FOREVER since I've seen you
Catherine says:
I know.  I have seen your co-workers but not you.  I am fine, just as lost as ever.  How are you?
Stephanie says:
where have you seen them?
Catherine says:
The assn meetings you have missed.
Stephanie says:
What do you mean LOST...goofy!
Stephanie says:
Oh I wasnt there last time...but the time before
Catherine says:
Lost as in my life, a career, everything except being a mom which I seem to be damn good at in spite of myself...go figure.
Stephanie says:
you are the best at everything....what?  what are you talking about? what do you want to do?
Stephanie says:
you should go on to Monster and find a good sales Job..... you are an amazing salesperson and everyone adores you
Stephanie says:
they had one there for a 1031x company...that would be good...you have the brains and talent
Catherine says:
marry a rich man whos kids are grown who loves me to death and lets me go back to school, work out and write (laugh)
Catherine says:
ahhh see no answer to that one
Stephanie says:
yeah,,,,,but they're not all they're cracked up to be....Just do what YOU like and you'll find the guy......what do you want to do?
Stephanie says:
oh yeah there is...and I can think of many answers to that
Catherine says:
you are working with Chris now I see
Stephanie says:
Chris?????
Stephanie says:
or shes working at my office you mean?
Catherine says:
hang on - phone
Stephanie says:
k
Catherine says:
yes Chris at work...not cracked up???...how are things with you and your man ...how is he dealing with his mom's death and how are you doing with it...?...lord I go down this road and realize how out of touch I have been ...I am sorry I haven't been a better friend
Stephanie says:
I'm in Florida right now....hes doing good....we are doing good....I love him lots....I'm conteplating work also
Catherine says:
well I guess you won't be meeting me for wine after work today
Stephanie says:
I need your help on some things......I need to sit with you and talk.......please make time for me
Catherine says:
I am just lost living in Sonoma County - you know how I feel about it, add in dealing with my thyroid condition, and trying to do what is right for Brian - I am really confused and lost - I want a different life in a different place
Catherine says:
well good - I can help you - and you can chear me up
Stephanie says:
really...I mean it...I know I hate Sonoma County too...
Catherine says:
me too... I need help too and I certainly am not going to figure it all out staring at my walls every night...funny how they don't talk back...unless we drink a lot of wine
Catherine says:
when are you coming back?
Stephanie says:
I know....isnt it funny when you sit there night after night trying to figure it AL out on your own.....never happens
Catherine says:
EXACTLY
Stephanie says:
I'll be back on Sunday....can we meet next week
Catherine says:
I wake up and do the same damn things expecting something different...the definition of that isn't pretty...
Catherine says:
yes - it will be my week (supposed) off from Brian
Stephanie says:
and it NEVER changes!
Stephanie says:
okay then for sure lets make some time and more that just ONE day or night....we need to spend some time
Stephanie says:
I started playing tennis....I'm gonna join ___ club.....tennis...spa....classes and pool....whay dont you join?
Stephanie says:
You can bring Brian there in the summer to the pool and get exercise too and I can see you more
Catherine says:
yes - I can do an early afternoon thing and hang out for some time - I'd love to come see your home
Catherine says:
I can tell we live different lives ...I am looking at the YMCA - and you are looking at ___ club ...lol..oiy
Catherine says:
I am the friend who's panties and bra never match ... and jeans come from the Ross sale rack... remember?
Stephanie says:
so.....LOL you are such a crack up
Stephanie says:
its just because of the tennis and the outside pool.....you know drinks by the poolside????
Stephanie says:
cmon...it''ll be fun....I'm all about it
Catherine says:
yes I love the ___ pool - it is a great set up - Ebet usually stays there when she comes to visit and has us all over poolside to hang with her
Stephanie says:
cmon....do it....we can work out and drink together....you owe yourself
Catherine says:
well I am thinking more of a cost issue - I am living an artists life these days - it is getting old ... but until I figure out what I am doing it is the way I am living ...its a real tight budget
Stephanie says:
So you know.....i'm on a tight budget too but I feel that I need something like this for my sanity
Catherine says:
I am there with you - I always think of the amazing job you have done as a single mom tho - you are my inspiration and you still look like Barbie -lol
Catherine says:
I have so much funny shit to tell you...
Stephanie says:
Oh my God....you kill me
Catherine says:
well we need to get together and brainstorm
Stephanie says:
I know....we REALLY have to get together next week...no excuses....what time can you get off work
Catherine says:
I can make the day happen - just name it - my x thinks you are adorable so if I say I am not helping him to come be with you he will say "See ya! Have fun!"
Stephanie says:
Okay......how about Tuesday...can you get off like at 4:30 or so
Stephanie says:
or earlier...you name it'
Catherine says:
yes Tuesday is fine ANYTIME
Catherine says:
the date is the 7th
Stephanie says:
anytime after when......4....4:30????
Catherine says:
4 - I am putting you on my calendar
Stephanie says:
okay good....____ in the Village or any other ideas?
Catherine says:
lol ... how about Sizzler?....lol...kidding... any place we can talk
Stephanie says:
LOL
Catherine says:
your house would be fine too
Stephanie says:
you goof ball......
Stephanie says:
I was just thinking somewhere in SR
Catherine says:
that is fine too - you could even come to my tiny artist place
Stephanie says:
okay....tues night....we'll talk that day to confirm place  okay?
Catherine says:
I have not been out for a girl's night in forever so it isn't like I have been cheating on you ...lol
Stephanie says:
you a nut!
Catherine says:
yes - you are in and my x says "Go have fun I'll give you the money if you need any"
Stephanie says:
he's good.....(for an x that is)....nice of him...although he owes you many times over
Catherine says:
lol what I need is a driver ...lol
Stephanie says:
You got one...ME!!
Catherine says:
can you believe it has been a year since everything crashed and burned?
Stephanie says:
are you kidding...that long.....my gosh...thats how fast it goes when you get old like us
Stephanie says:
I know.....I know you think the heartache of it is holding you back in alot of ways....you just need to not be so hard on yourself....you are more incredible than you think
Catherine says:
ahhhhh  so you are not just anopther beautiful face... you see more of me than I realize ... here I think I am so good at hiding myself ... all smoke and mirrors
Catherine says:
another* damn keys
Stephanie says:
its you
Catherine says:
lol
Stephanie says:
of course...I know you have been in hiding....I know!
Stephanie says:
so stop it!...you need to let it go catherine....dont let this hold you back from your greatness...I amtelling you that you blow everyone away who meets you...and your personality is so wonderful...don't hold yourself back
Stephanie says:
from anything
Catherine says:
you are really such a wonderful person Stephanie - it is like you always know just what to say ...I feel so lucky that God smiled down on me the day he introduced me to you
Stephanie says:
And I feel the same about you...I really have missed you and have been sad that we havent seen each other...I really mean it...
Stephanie says:
I just know that you feel something about what has happened....and I know its affected you in alot of ways...I'm just saying you are the one that is holding yourself hostage...and I want you to stop it....if I have to find you and pull you back out into the world
Catherine says:
I am tied of not feeling well and have been fighting with the Doctors to up my thyroid meds...it gets old
Stephanie says:
I know...I will talk with you later....I love you...I have to go but well talk soon...Love you!
Catherine says:
I love you too - thanks for everything - see you Tuesday.

Until next time-

C

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

Tags: www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

IF YOU CAN'T BE WITH THE ONE YOU LOVE HONEY...

Grey's Anatomy opened up the subject with friends who watch it, the question of whether any of us have ever started, or completed sex or relationships while our hearts belonged to someone else.

Oh, hell yeah.

There are definitely times in my past where I lost the one I really wanted and was forced to re-group.  I tried to move on and bought into the saying, "the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."  I usually found "the someone else" can be a poor replacement when you open your eyes and finally come up for air.

The "what the hell??" thoughts set in.

Unfortunately, the "what the hell" guys in my life probably had no idea, but usually were jerks in their own right, so I wasn't really hurting or destroying someone who put kindness and selflessness at the forefront to their personality. 

I stopped this practise some time ago and now allow plenty of pity time before I put myself out there.  Proper mourning helps bury the past and gives new people their much deserved chance.  Plus, I find that the new people are usually healthier choices over the ones made during pity phases.

I have dated men who are still caught up in the past, in the middle of their own pity train and I am not about to board that passenger car bound for a fast downhill ride.  It isn't pleasant being the person going out with someone who is hurting and stuck.  It is like "Gee I think you are cute enough to ask out, but when I am with you I am going to be obsessed with someone else and really not be present enough to get to know you - let alone see you for who you really are....but can we have sex?" ... "Oh and I will bring this person up all the time and talk about them non-stop, because you are sooooo easy to talk to..." (yeah, cause I hung myself while you were busy talking to yourself).

I'd rather stay home and pull my nose hairs out with a pair of red hot tweezers thank you. 

But, (sigh) my guess is we have ALL been that pity-party, stuck person to someone else at one time or another.  I am imagining them home plucking nose hairs with a scalding hot pair of tweezers...

hmmm .... it works for me.

Until next time-

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

RESPONSES TO REDHEADEDNESS

 

One male friend has responded with: "If a woman is alone in the woods and a tree falls and scares her, is it still a man's fault?"

(laugh)... I say, "Probably..."...

REDHEADED THOUGHTS

If a man is alone in a forest, and speaks out loud, and there is NO women to hear him - is he still wrong?

SAY BYE TO MR NICE GUY

 

 

 

Sadly, Mr. Chicken has left the building...

Tags: http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com, Don Knotts

OF MICE AND MEN AND MOTHERS

I love being a mom, I mean, I really do.  Like Charlotte, the brunette character in Sex and The City, once I hit age 26 I wanted a husband, a mortgage, kids and pets.  I wanted baseball games, brownies, untied tiny tennis shoes, the pitter-patter of little feet and rooms to paint.  I wanted to come home to the same man every night, make love, laugh and discuss our day spent apart.  I wanted to live this life plan rambling around in my head.

The best laid plans of Mice and Men...

It didn't exactly go as hoped... so here I am.

Today, I took paintbrushes in hand and went to Art Docent training at my son's school.  I love his teacher and ironically worked with her when I was at ATG.  This is my time to be that school mom for my son.  By God, if I didn't exactly get the married family life I dreamed of I damn well can attempt to be that PTA mom ... even if I am the redhead with the big tits!

KB would chime in with "Bless your big heart- you go girl!" right about now.

I also love art.

My mother thinks I should be a kindergarten teacher and is forever supporting my endeavors in dealing with the public school system.   Hey - maybe in training adults in corporate American I really did teach kindergartners, and teaching them software - it may as well been Picasso flowers. 

I sign in at the office and proudly follow a group of mothers to room 28 for our Art Docent training.  I am the only mother with cleavage.  It isn't my intent; just that I have 6 inches of cleavage and hate button front shirts ... a little cleavage always shows.  But I am wickedly creative so don't underestimate me.   I do notice I am the only mom with frayed bell-bottom jeans, high black leather platform shoes and a New York style black leather jacket.  I feel like My Cousin Vinney.

Before too long I am deep in training and creating Monet flowers.  These kind women suddenly look at my flowers and decide I am the funky artist type, which makes me an interesting kind of mom - maybe I sleep with a 23 year old who manages a rock band.  I can see their minds working, as they discuss their stucco homes and Girl Scout meetings.  I am thinking this whole scene could use KB, wine and some talk about the last time they all had an orgasm. 

There has to be more interesting conversations than this.  LADIES.

By the end of the Art Docent training we are a bonded group. I let my guard down.  This is never good when you are the Erin Brokovich of the group trying to be Mary Poppins ...

The subject of ADD\ADHD comes up .. probably started by me.  Some of you know the book I am slowly writing... so out pops from my mouth "I have an issue with teaching our kids to just say no to drugs, but the 'system' wants the children who don't fit in the box to go on drugs to control the classroom.  I want to tell these kids stories."

You know you could have heard a pin drop, as I finished this sentence with a brush stroke and looked up to see them all looking at me.

OH OH.

(Sometimes when you resemble a slot machine and someone pulls your arm, thoughts roll around and around in your head, and you should just deliver a 'no match' rather than let your opinion roll out like coin from your mouth.)

JACKPOT.

Turns out all the mothers in the room have their kids on drugs.  Yep,  parents of ‘special needs’ kids who can’t sit still or focus surrounded me.  That coin once dispensed cannot roll back up into my mouth ... it just lays there all over the floor.  Parents of kids on Ritalin surround me.

Can we say "Back pedal"?

Suddenly these women are on the defensive, defending the benefit of the drugs and what the drugs have done for their children's grades.  They are conforming.  I can't help but wonder where we would all be if Thomas Edison took Ritalin.  Would we still be sitting in the dark?  I say nothing, as the LAST thing I ever want to do is make a parent feel bad for making a choice out of love for their child.  

They have no idea of what I have been through with Brian, the research and the hours spent pouring through medical books, library books, web sites, Drs books, countless tests and interviews with medical professionals.  I am a research hound and made a different choice for my son.  I want more choices for these amazing kids too, not just the choice to drug or not to drug.  I want more choices for these parents and I want the world talking about this very subject.

I take drugs for my thyroid.  I know first hand what drugs can and cannot do.  They are not the complete answer to everything.  They are difficult to modify for each individual,because everyone on this planet is different.  As we all know, I have my good days and really bad days.  I worry a lot about the quality of my future life and whether a man will someday come along and love me, even though I am sick and take tiny pills every day just to get out of bed.  I know first hand how fragile this makes a person feel and how little perfectly healthy people understand what living like this is like.  It must be so hard on a child to have to take a drug, and incredibly strong parents who go down this road with them. 

But I was not about to say all this.  I already felt bad that I had made them feel defensive.  I obviously hit a nerve.  Leave it to me ... oiy.   I am so different from the typical Leave it To Beaver moms; yet I create a home life few could even begin to touch.  I know how to create happiness, love and beauty in a home.  Brian and I live in such peace and a quiet, simple life.  It was all I wanted for us after my divorce.

Maybe I am like the soldier who has returned from battle who feels forever changed by what he has seen.  But I am like these women - more like them then they realize.  I am fighting their same fight, just from a different hill.

I am just fighting it in black leather while they do it in matching gym outfits.

Until next time-

 

C 

" Someday, we're going to have us a little house and a couple of acres, a cow, a pig..."

 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

Tags: http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

MISSING IN ACTION

Like an itch that can't be scratched my mind wanders to Joy, my favorite Mr. Big.  I can only go so long before I crave the days of our easy banter, his sexiness, and his worldly charms.  There is somone in town that reminds me of him..

OH OH

But could anyone ever measure up..?...

we shall see...

THE CRUSH

I see you

But you don’t see me

I see your incandescent eyes, your undiluted soul

I stand here nakedly

Exposed.

 

I hear you

But you don’t hear me

As your melodic baritone travels about the room, your poetic conversation

I sit here knocked-kneed

Aflutter.

 

I feel you

But you don’t feel me

The sensation of your bare chest under my soft breasts, in my dreams

I am a mystery

Secret.

 

I taste you

But you don’t taste me

Your boyish lips, those pearliest edible perfect teeth near me

I resist them weakly

Breathless.

 

I touch you

And you touch me

Your athletic hands, a conduit of electricity upon my arm

I move barely

Jelly.

 

I want you

But I think you don’t want me

Your dark viscous hair, my hands screaming to caress

I am often frisky

Playful.

 

I see you

But you don't see me

Exposed, aflutter, secret, breathless, jelly, playful

Lady.

 

 

 

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife

 

 

THE MUSIC OF MY SOUL

 

 

http://www.manhattanrecords.com/cwplayer/player.html

 

Thank you Mark.

 

C

THIS SITE IS A MEMBER OF WEBRING

This site is a member of WebRing.
To browse visit
here

 

This site is a member of Search4blog.   To browse visit: http://www.search4blogs.com/bloggers/index.php

 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

TV LUSTFEST

 

 

 

Dr "McDreamy" may be Ebet's type, but enter Dr "McSteamy" ...WALA...my type.  How I would love to be a writer for Grey's Anatomy...

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Ok, so I just have to post this:

Ap Breaking News
62-year-old Redding woman gives birth to 12th child
Friday, February 17, 2006
(02-17) 22:38 PST Redding, Calif. (AP) --
A 62-year-old woman gave birth Friday to a healthy 6-pound, 9-ounce baby boy, becoming one of the oldest women in the world to successfully bear a child.
The newborn is the 12th child of Janise Wulf, who's also a grandmother of 20 and great-grandmother of three.

So we are all reading it the same....ok I have to do it again:

Ap Breaking News
62-year-old Redding woman gives birth to 12th child
Friday, February 17, 2006
(02-17) 22:38 PST Redding, Calif. (AP) --
A 62-year-old woman gave birth Friday to a healthy 6-pound, 9-ounce baby boy, becoming one of the oldest women in the world to successfully bear a child.
The newborn is the 12th child of Janise Wulf, who's also a grandmother of 20 and great-grandmother of three.

I have my son for like the 14th day straight now, and with breakfasts, lunches, dinners, homework, snacks, laundry, dishes, managing his friends, sleep overs, taxi service, work, grocery shopping, swim lessons, bill paying, and the work that comes with his dog...I think I am going to collapse before my x husband comes to take him so I can get off this hamster wheel we call motherhood AND HE IS ONLY ONE.  JAYSUS 62 years old and 12?  Am I that lame?

Does her husband do her from behind while she is putting the laundry into the dryer?  I mean when does she have time, energy or the inclination?

God, after 12 at 62 my belly would sag like a large bode bag around my thighs and my breasts would dangle so flat that the nipples would tuck under.  Why can't this happen to men?  I don't know, with every few thousand sperm they eject their balls should slowly stretch until, at 62 they hang like skin patches on the inside of their thighs - to about their knees.  I'd like to see them have to tie themback to get them out of the way for sex.

Of course with men, they'd prolly figure out a way to turn those sagging, flat, floppy balls into some sort of sexual toy.  Guys are better at this than we are.  We call a plastic surgeon and see how much it will cost to "fix it", whereas men will incorporate it into some great bodily part that is a symbol of his sexuality.  Men hate growing bald, yet Yule Brenner was one hell of a sexy man.

You know, I'd have more children via sex with a man all the time if he came with a house keeper, a nanny, a cook and a private trainer ... at the rate I pursue the opposite sex Brian will safely remain an only child.

Until next time-

C

 

LOVE THOUGHTS FROM THE REDHEAD

I wanted to make today really special for Valentine's day, so I tied my date up. And for three solid hours I watched whatever I wanted on his TV...

 

 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

TOE PIC

As I lay across from Brian on the couch, our gaze is fixed on the Olympic show before us from Italy.  Brian loves Snow boarding, so he is anxious to see how the American women will perform.  The pairs skating takes me back mentally to the many years of my own ballet lessons and figure skating life.  I realize I haven't watched the Winter Olympics for 8 years.  The last time it was in Nagano Japan.  I was working on finishing up the final legalities of my divorce, and Brian and I were still living in the country bungalow.  It seems like a lifetime ago.

Brian was 2 going on 3.

I was working for NAMC and often sat on my couch with my laptop on my lap chatting away to this person or that from across the United States.  The Internet was still in it's innocent phase.  It was more fun before it was marketed and sold to the world to be ruined.

My friend Vincent (Vincentay as I liked to call him) from San Jose was a brilliant tech head suffering through loving to date Barbie doll looking women, but turned on by brains and a quick mind.  He was never quite able to find a Barbie with the brains he was seeking (I am not saying that they aren't out there somewhere - he just wasn't finding it).  He was at a loss as to how to find his perfect woman and stumbled upon my dry banter online one winter night when Trace was visiting me from Minnesota.

Our Internet chats were an explosion of words and we became instant friends.  Our chats crackled like sparks from a fire and often he would leave me laughing out loud so hard that my ribs would hurt the next day.  He also rescued me a few times in my life before moving back east.  Seems some airport was always stranding me somewhere in those days, and Vince was more than happy to find me, pick me up and drive my tired frustrated butt back home.  He had the most beautiful long hair I have ever seen on a man.  His perfect white teeth exposed a wide loving smile and his eyes sparkled of trouble.  Yes, he played the guitar and was a rock musician in a past career before settling down to raise his son.  I loved how much he koved his teenage son.

I always seem to be a girl being rescued by some studly guy. don't I?

Vincent once played hockey and had a past life in skating, so during the men's Olympic skating we each sat at our computers chatting about what we were watching on TV.  There we were writing our own play by play commentary to each other, while glued to the TV.  We liked the same skaters, and picked apart their techniques.  We were arm chair judges exchanging our own point system, leaning heavily toward the Americans, but in awe of the Russians.  I was never to look at skating the same again.

So there I was watching the skating and wondering how Vince is doing.  It is amazing to me how people can cross our paths. touch our souls and we are forever changed.  They bring us gifts that can't be measured in coin.  They give us a small cherished piece of themselves - unconditionally, in the hope that we will preserve it in our hearts and call upon it when needed.

Vince pushed me to take on a higher level tech position saying "You are brilliant and can handle it in the boys club.  Hell move closer and work with me ...of course I'd get nailed for sexual harassment."  I would always laugh, but was smart enough to listen to his advise.   We lost contact in the shuffle of his move and the change of all my contact information.

But whenever I watch someone skate, that piece of him is with me still and it comforts my soul.

Until next time-

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

TWO LIPS

Life is interesting, don’t you think?  Often, it moves along like slow shifting clouds across the sky.  Other times, it is like swift lightning storm fussing overhead, full of furry and might and gone in a flash.  My girlfriends often tell me, “Catherine, no man is going to show up on your front door – you have to get out more”.  But what does one do who loves to garden, write and play with children?  These tasks keep me close to home and the only places I am ever interested in going (if we aren’t talking travel here) is any bookstore, a hike through nature, any garden store, any hardware store or the beach.

 

Lately my gardening has expanded to the back (or the front – depending on how you look at my place) with the planting of more rose bushes and a sitting area.  This new side faces the street and a completely new world.  I am falling in love with the world just outside my back gate, which happens to be street side. I love all my neighbors on this side, which are an active bunch to say the least.

 

With the simple gesture of taking orange bread to my neighbors across the way when their family member died, I have somehow become a new member of their family.  They now cross our busy street visit me.  It is just the cutest thing.  One happens to be a single man from SF who drives a big truck and has a beautiful Harley motorcycle.  I do not know what it is about men with Harley’s and me, but they always seem to like me – no matter the size of my ass.  They are often breast men and Lordy, as we all know, I have breasts - to say the least.

 

This one comes up when I am pulling weeds, washing my truck, chasing Brian’s dog – any situation where I have no make up on and my ass (I am sure) looks like Texas in sweat pants.  He smiles at me like I am the prettiest thing and talks to me in the most respectful manner.  Today he came across and actually knocked on my sliding glass door, which startled me. 

 

There, at my door is this man with arm full of potted flowers – mostly tulips, one of my favorite flowers.  “Hi Catherine, I hope you don’t mind, but people brought all these potted flowers and I noticed that you love to garden, so I would like you to have all the flowers”. He says, blushing between the tulips in his arms.  I squeal with delight, as I love flowers and exclaim, “I LOVE tulips, I know exactly where to put these.  Thank you somuch.” He stays for a while enjoying smalltalk about death.  I have been there, so I know what things to ask.  We are kindred spirits now.

 

As the day wears on, he brings more and more flowers until my place is filled with flowered baskets full of tulips, daisies, roses and the like.  Suddenly it dawns on me that Brian is going to have one hell of a Valentines Day, and for me, my place is filled with my favorite thing – flowers.  How special that someone’s death gives forth love and beauty to strangers.  My place looks like a garden, both inside and out. 

 

As I leave for my writers club meeting, he races over with two more baskets of tulips and four neighbor men that live up the street whistle and yell that it is about time they see me in a skirt.  As he hands me the tulips and my face turns beat red, he comments, “This must happen to you all the time”.  “Only when I travel outside California,” I answer.  He looks at me puzzled, but I don’t bother to explain.  I am still flatteredthat he noticed how much I love to garden while caring for a family member dying of cancer.

 

Here I thought Valentines Day would be all about my son…we still have 36 Valentines to get ready for Tuesday.  But now my place is filled with beautiful flowers and I feel like some man has surprised me with an amazing romantic gift....a home filled with flowers.  I suppose one rather did. 

 

When I returned home from the meeting tonight he walked over a basket of daisies.  “You look pretty tonight” he said.  I could feel the warmth cover my cheeks as I said “Thank you" and took the flowers from his arms.  “I am going to miss watching you Catherine…when I leave” he says.  “Why?” I asked as he exits my gate.  “Because you are one hell of a mom, and any man that watches you can see that…night” he waves.  “Night” I respond as I pull this latest basket of flowers to my face.

 

And who said I ever had to leave my home....?

 

Until next time-

 

C

 

PS.  I will say that I do miss my tech career, especially working with nothing but men all day.  I don’t think about it until I come in contact with the type of men I would be working with (if I were still troubleshooting systems and software).  I guess I will always be that geek girl … no amount of make-up, hair and heelswill ever really change that.  I miss the cool geek men.

 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

OUTSOURCE THIS

I met my new neighbor this morning.  A very sweet man, who happens to be an Engineer - my favorite kind of people.  Also, he loves Math, so there is hope for me with assisting Brian with his math.  I joked that I would trade orange bread for answers to my math questions.

Interesting to note, as an Engineer he has not been able to find work and moved up here from Silicon Valley.  I told him of my experience as a certified technician, as he chimed "I bet there is no work for you either"  "Nope" I replied, "It's a good thing I know marketing and real estate ... it has saved my butt".

It angers me when I think of the out-sourcing of technical positions outside the US.  Companies would have us believe that there isn't talent in the US, or talent is too expensive.  It is just simply a bunch of crap.  How is it that a business can come into a community and reap the benefits of special incentives the cities offer (and the state) to locate in the area to create local jobs, only to have the company say "Thank you" and out source jobs outside the US?  Do they offer to let go of their special tax incentives too...?...nope.

I experienced the beginning of the out-sourcing phenomenon when NAMC tried to out-source technical support of their employees.  The Dime felt out-sourcing would be cheaper until they analyzed us and found out how specialized we were.  Not only did many of the technicians understand mortgage banking, many had real estate licenses, had been loan officers, processors and the like.  It was easy for us to help the employees because we knew their jobs inside and out.  There were a whole lot of questions we never even needed to ask.

I supported the loan officers on Act!, the Internet, email and Loansoft (a loan qualifying software).  Usually in the first 10 seconds I would know what the loan officer had done, and was able to fix his problem and get him back producing in minutes.  The analysts that sat next to me would say that they didn't understand the problem, let alone my answers.  In the end the out-sourcing company felt they could not come close to matching the level of expertise or the cost.  Apparently we were pretty cheap.  The Dime dropped the idea of out-sourcing.

A local mortgage bank in northern California decided to out-source their loan servicing outside the US.  The service was so terrible that customers began refinancing in droves to get away from the servicing and customer service of this mortgage bank.  Mortgage Brokers will not broker to this bank because of the reputation of their loan servicing.  No broker wants to stick their client with a loan where they can't get help if they should need it.  How exactly is this a cost benefit to this mortgage bank?  How do their financial analyst even begin to measure the loss of loans they will never get because of their loan servicing group?

Meanwhile this Engineer has obtained a job up here completely outside his engineering talents.  So we are like kindred spirits, people who loved what we did for a living and now find ourselves reinventing our lives at middle age.  We have guts, that is for sure.

A few years back I wanted to go to work for Peaplesoft in Pleasanton.  It was located in the area of California that I want to live and the type of company I like working with.  I couldn't get my x husband to compromise on locating there and allowing me to take Brian.  By law, we both can only move an hour from each other, unless the other gives permission.  Now, Peoplesoft, gobbled up by Oracle is experiencing the horrid effects of a hostile take-over and the out-sourcing of jobs outside the US.  Once again we are hearing that same "it's cheaper" rhetoric as we create an economic boon in the countries we are out-sourcing to.

With the latest round of layoffs announced this week by Peoplesoft, one senior executive placed his name first on the list to be laid off as a stand against the out-sourcing of Peoplesoft jobs.  He is probably one fantastic manager.  At Continental Savings we had a similar Vice President, who when the Feds placed Chuck Chennes to head up Continental Savings (a known hatchet man) she put her name on the list to be laid off, thus saving the jobs of all the people below her.  Such people are rare in corporate America, but Continental Savings was a company that employed amazing people.  Ironically, it was the Fed's choice in Chuck that drove Continental Savings into the ground.

Can you tell this subject just burns my red hair?

Until next time-

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

 

LOVE QUOTES

I found this to be an interesting observation and probably very true:

"Love at first sight may be a matter of instinctively recognizing someone who will allow you to continue in comfortingly familiar--and often destructive--patterns learned in childhood."  Quoted from Lisa Zeidner in her review of Maggie Scarf's book Intimate Partners.

Interesting...Interesting...

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife

FAMOUS REDHEAD FACTS

Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Jesus, was supposedly red-haired. (Go figure).

Red hair was thought to be unlucky until Queen Elizabeth I made it popular. Prior to this Red hair was considered unlucky.

Redheads were turned out of Cornish dairies, because it was believed they would turn the butter sour.

Cleopatra Queen of the Nile had red hair?  And we don't see this why?

Boadicea warrior queen, who led a revolt against the romans when they occupied Britain was a redhead.

Salome, the daughter of King Herrod danced to ontain the head of John the Baptist was said to be a redhead. (Not shocking).

Naopleon Bonaporte French emperor had red in his hair.

Emperor Nero was a redhead.

Rob Roy outlaw to England Hero to Scotland was a redhead. 

Florence Nightingale the famous nurse was a redhead.

Further proof two vastly different redhead personalities exist.  I am the nurse kind (wink)... 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

DEATH COMES KNOCKING

Finally, death number three entered boldly into my world at about 10:15 this morning.  I was at my truck, which was parked out on the street in front of my place.  One of my newer neighbors from across the street came out from her house sobbing, and leaned against her garage door in obvious anguish.  Her cries were so desperate that I stopped, wondering if I should go to her.  It is difficult to know what to do in these situations.  As I thought for a second three men in suits came out and gathered her in their arms.  It almost appeared as what I imagine an intervention looks like and I half expected to see her say goodbye to a young man or woman, but I was way off base...

Two of the men went back inside, and to my great dismay returned pushing a gurney with a body bag on top.  The body bag was not large, and I realized it was probably a young child.  They have a boy that gets around in a wheelchair, but I really have no idea who it could be. I froze, as this took me right back to my father's death.  This was exactly how it played out.  There was no Hearse for this child, just a large white van.  It broke my heart as they gently loaded the body into the back of the van as the woman screamed in obvious emotional pain.

My heart went out to them and for a brief moment in time we were connected. I know too well the pain she is experiencing.  It is as if someone drives a knife into your soul, removing it and sending it spinning into hell.  There is no day, no night, as days move from one to the next without recognition.  Your heart and mind are numb, and like a puppet you move about where directed.  There is no cold, no warmth. no laughter.  It is as if your emotions flat line.  You are forever changed.

I made some of my famous orange bread and walked it to their home.  A man answered the door and through his swollen red eyes meeting mine, we held a conversation without words.  We are forever linked in the club of those who know death, and can recognize each other.  A woman came out with swollen red eyes and took the plate as I spoke, "I am sorry for your loss".  They thanked me, and could see I understood what was happening in their world, without explanation.  I turned and walked down their steps back to my home.

I sure hope all these people we have lost are having one hell of a good time on the other side, because it sure sucks when they leave us behind.

Until next time-

C

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

LIFE SAVERS

These days I am still caught up in remembering Continental Savings and SF work stories.  I am guessing it is because the friendships made there changed my life.  Those amazing people I worked with have constantly reached out to me, providing me with fabulous career choices several times over.  Maybe it is because I am so torn about what I am trying to accomplish that subconsciously I wish one of them would rescue me like Cinderella from the dirty basement.

 

Here I am helping my x husband with his marketing, writing a newsletter on mortgage banking and often think if I have to see him one more time I will blow my brains out (rhetorically speaking people) – maybe I should say blow his brains out? (Laugh)  When June was over, we discussed my quandary and she felt it was the best way to make money while I explore this dream of mine.  It does provide Brian with the ability of seeing his parents work together in a businesslike manner and I notice how much easier it is to manage Brian’s day to day with someone I can order to help me – his dad.  I do come and go as I please and I will say my x has mellowed over the years.  He grosses me out though and some days I am an absolute bitch to him just because I cannot stand the sight of him. (Now don't think I have issues here - my friends know what he is like - it is justifiable and remember I can have issues with someone and still play nice.  He is my son's father and my son loves him.  These are just my deep inner thoughts).

 

I think this is the way you are suppose to feel about an x…

 

He seems to understand it and roll with it by leaving his office for long hours while I am there.  June says “And this sucks how?  As long as you make your dream come true – this is just a mini pit stop chica.”

 

Yeah, but it is boring and I so do not do boring well.

 

When I used to ride the bus to SF, every single day something interesting happened.  My mother used to call me every other day just to hear the stories.  The commute was made famous several times in the Ann Lander’s column.  The behavior of the businessmen who commuted from Sonoma County on bus 76 pissed people off so much that they wrote into Ann Landers on a regular basis.

 

Along with the rude businessmen there were the construction guys who rode the buses into the city to work on the high rises.  These construction guys were the real heroes.  I often wondered how they ever got up so early, rode a commute bus, worked hard labor all day and rode the long commute bus ride back home every day.  There was this group of five guys that were pipe fitters that would always save me my same seat.  If I was cold, they would cover me with their jackets, thirsty, give me their water, bored read me their paper.

 

Frank was my favorite, a married father of six.  I started dating my x husband at this time and Frank would give me dating advise from 'a guys point of view'.  My x husband and I had a whirlwind romance in that we were married within 9 months of meeting each other.  We met in late June, engaged in September and married the following April.  It gives me hives just thinking about it.

 

In December I noticed the evening bus commute was making me ill and as soon as I would be off the bus I would want to puke.  I could not figure out what was going on until I discovered I was two weeks late.  Yes folks I was pregnant for the very first time.  My x and I were excited and I was trying to figure out how I was going to tell my very Catholic mother that her daughter was about to walk down the isle pregnant. 

 

One morning the bus was almost full when i got on, seems one of the earlier commute buses had broken down.  My spot was taken, but Frank saved me a seat in front of him.  I wasn't feeling well, and I hadn't bothered putting make up on, figuring I would once I got into work.  I went right to sleep and woke up as we were passing Novato, a city about half way to SF.  I was sweating, but cold and there was this sharp pain  in my lower right side.

 

At first I thought the pain was just a cramp and it would go away.  Then I began to realize that this was not a normal pain and I was really ill.  I turned around in my seat and looked behind me where Frank was fast asleep in his seat.  I tapped his knee and he awoke to me, "Frank something is seriously wrong. (I started to cry) I don't feel good.  I think it is my appendix."  The businessman next to me shot out of his seat without ever looking at me and practically ran to a new seat at the front of the bus.  This is exactly what these bus riding businessmen were like.  Frank got into the seat next to me, took my pulse, felt my forehead, and announced,  "You are very sick Cat.  Will you be ok long enough for me to go to the bus driver?"  "Yes"  I replied as I began to double over in pain.  The other construction guys were waking up asking Frank what was wrong with me.  Frank explained and headed to the bus driver.

 

I should say that the commute buses are a straight shot to the city.  There are no stops until the Golden Gate bridge.  We were only halfway, stuck in traffic on the freeway.  Frank comes back and pulls my bags from the overhead.  He tells his friends to get his stuff and tell their boss he won't be in.  He looks down at me and says, "The bus driver has called for an ambulance Cat.  He is pulling off the freeway.   I will help you."  The other guys gathered our things and Frank lifted me from my seat.  I was very ill by this point I didn't think that this stranger was about to give up his work day to rescue me.

 

The bus pulls to the side of the freeway in Marin, where there is a commute island for the Marin County commute buses.  Frank lays me down on the cement bench while the guys hand him our things from the bus.  The bus leaves us, with me lapsing in and out of consciousness and Frank kneeling at my side telling me to hang on.  In the day before cell phones, we were all alone.

 

I could hear the ambulances faintly in the distance.  As it turns out, they were on the wrong side of the freeway.  People stuck in commute stared at me through their car windows.  I am sure I looked like some homeless person in a nice dress sleeping on the commute bench.  Frank was jumping up and down wildly waving his arms as if the firemen could really see him across eight freeway lanes, two bus islands and a center divide.  As I looked at all the people driving by, no one stopping to help I thought 'Good lord, I am going to die on a park bench, with no make-up and tennis shoes with a dress'.

 

The ambulance finally finds us, along with 5 large fire trucks.  To this day I still can't figure out why the fire trucks were needed.  Suddenly I am surrounded by men ... good looking men ... and all I can think of is 'God I sure must look like shi*'.  The main paramedic began asking me a series of questions as they place an oxygen tube to my nose.  He gets to about the 8th question, hesitates, then asks, "When was the last time you had sex?"  All the firemen, paramedics and police are gathered close around me. It is always interesting when my red-headed temper sets in.

 

"What in the sam hell?  Why on earth would you be asking me such a personal question?  What kind of paramedic are you?  Since when does my appendix have anything fuc**ing to do with sex?!?!?"  I yell out practically knocking the guy over with my voice.  All the other firemen, paramedics and policemen suddenly stand straight and back far away.  It seems they have all had experiences with a redhead before.  "Miss", he swallows, "I am not trying to be personal but I will be calling this information into the hospital, and they will be advising us on how to treat you".  "And my sex life factors into this exactly how?" I respond as the other paramedics pull the gurney up.  I realize I have no panties on - just hosiery.  This is exactly the thing mothers warm you about with 'the clean underclothes in case you are in an accident' saying.

 

They lift me on to the gurney as I try to keep my legs glued together to avoid further humiliation.  I still haven't answered the sex question, and Frank asks me for Terry's (my x husband) phone number.  I can't remember it for anything, and Frank tells me not to worry.  He has no idea the worries going through my head....no panties...look like hell...what will the appendix scar look like...will this hurt my baby...

 

Once at the hospital emergency room I am whisked away for a battery of tests, of which I pass out through most.  Upon awakening, I am in this tiny room hooked up to an IV and my mother is standing over me.  "Honey, you had a tubular pregnancy that ruptured.  It didn't damage your ovary, but you lost the baby."  I hadn't even thought of this, and answered "It isn't my appendix?"  "No hon ... you lost the baby".  I rolled over to my pillow and began to cry, "I want to go home"  I said, "Where's Terry?"

 

It seems Frank rode in the ambulance and then from the hospital pay phone called Santa Rosa directory and eventually found Terry to tell him what was happening.  Terry called my mom, and they rushed to the hospital to find me.  Frank had left the hospital to catch a late bus into work, so I didn't get to see him to thank him. 

 

I was off work for almost two weeks and when I boarded that first bus back Frank and the guys were waiting and began to clap.  The bus driver smiled and said "Welcome back to the grind red", and I was back with my commute friends. 

 

This was not the only time Frank would reach out and save me.  I had my own personal guardian angel, and he was tall, cute, a great husband and father...and a very dear friend.

 

Until next time-

 

C 

 

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/