Source for ‘The Book’ section : From Goodreads
What if you lost the thing that made you who you are?

Lexi has always been stunning. Her butter-colored hair and perfect features have helped her attract friends, a boyfriend, and the attention of a modeling scout. But everything changes the night Lexi’s face goes through a windshield. Now she’s not sure what’s worse: the scars she’ll have to live with forever, or what she saw going on between her best friend and her boyfriend right before the accident. With the help of her trombone-playing, defiantly uncool older sister and a guy at school recovering from his own recent trauma, Lexi learns she’s much more than just a pretty face.

The View:

“My Life in Black and White” is a good book that talks about the friendship between two girls and the drama that comes along with teenage friendships. When I started the book I expected it to be very similar to a Disney series, intact with two friends, cute boys who pose a threat to the friendship, other friends who form a part of the larger group, some booze, some car rides and the general good-tale-turned-bad-turned-good episodes.

Lexi was a character I did not like from the very beginning. She is a spoilt brat and her beauty only makes her appear even more proud and unapproachable. The girls friendship was something I enjoyed and I wish there were a few more tales of things they did together or laughs they shared. After her accident on that fateful night Lexi changes; you would think it would be for the better but on the contrary she becomes even more annoying (as if that was even possible). She complains about every small thing and does not appreciate any of the help offered. But all is well that ends well. Eventually she accepts the person she becomes devoid the beautiful face and even patches up her broken friendship. Aww! Dont we love happy endings!!!

I liked some parts and did not like some parts. The story was simple with nothing out of the ordinary and the characters were typical yet interesting. I think it will be fair to give this a 3 on 5.

Wow! Talk about hitting the nail on the head…  Getting back into writing has been a subject that has been playing, like a broken record, in the back of my mind for a little while now.  I even went so far as to mention to a friend how I would like to start back but, much like diet or exercise, after such a long hiatus it’s very hard to get back up on that horse once you’ve fallen off the wagon.

I can remember a time when blogging was such an integral part of my life that not a day went by where I couldn’t find at least one thing to write about; but something happened along the way and I gradually stopped writing.  Exactly what happened, I couldn’t say; but I can say, without a doubt, that I loved writing!  I loved composing the story in my head.  I loved how it made me feel to craft and perfect how I wanted the story to be told.  I loved the laughter that most of my stories inspired.  And I loved when people who read my stories would comment and tell me that I should be a writer.  So why, if I loved something so much, would I have let that go??

Maybe it was Facebook.  Maybe it was lack of time.  Maybe it was life in general.  I don’t know, but whatever it was I am hoping that this will finally be the year that I get my writing mojo back.

I have been through the beginner family blog.  I’ve done the babbling blog and the movie blog (which, by the way, may have been the beginning of the end in blogging for me as I love to watch the movies but not so much to write about them.  A writer I may be, but a movie critic I am not!)  I’ve done the cute undercover blog and tried to merge that idea over into a more mature undercover blog.  But then I decided I was sick of being incognito.  I was creeping up on 4D and hiding under a false identity wasn’t really my style.  I have always been a real person – an upfront and honest, nothing to hide, tell it like it is kind of gal.  You can take it or leave it.  I don’t play games; I am who I am and you either like me or you don’t. And so with that, I shed my invisible cloak and stepped out of that dark closet that others tried to shove me into with their malicious intents, and I merged all of my previous blogs into the one you see here today.

This is the one that best describes who I am and the name fits me and the story that is my life perfectly!  In fact, my dreams of one day writing a book (as I’m sure all people with a passion for writing do) and what would the name of said book be is exactly how the title “My Life in Black and White” came to be.

Maybe one day in the future My Life in Black and White will be on the pages of black and white; but until then, I will try to focus on the days and many blessings of My Life in Black and White, and I will do my best to honor them in memory by committing them to black and white in this, my little corner of the world.

This is the week!  The book fair has arrived!

She brought home the little scholastics magazine, that shows all the books available for purchase.  And she has studied that list of books, numerous times.  Last night, we went over the list together and she picked out three books that she was interested in buying.

This morning, I have her some money and told her to pick the book that she wanted the most.  Her only stipulation was that the one she chose couldn’t cost more than $5.00.

Did she buy her first choice, Fancy Nancy?

No

Did she get her second choice, Shoe La La?

Negative

What about her third choice, My Sister the Vampire?

Nope

So what did she get, you ask??  She got this…

Oh yeah!  She’s got the fever… The Bieber Fever!

I have always had a fascination with houses.  Usually, I’m drawn to old houses, barns or buildings.  You know, the ones that have been vacant for years and look like they could collapse at any possible moment??  I don’t know what it is about them, but I just LOVE them!  Every time I see one, I want to stop whatever it is I’m doing - which is usually driving – and go inside and explore.  I look at them and my mind starts to wonder about the history of events that might have occurred from within their walls – if only those walls could talk – and my imagination goes wild with all of the possibilities.

And this fascination is not just limited to old buildings either – though they are the ones that pull at me the most – it can be any kind of house or structure that I see and, for whatever reason, it captures my attention, and I want to know all about it:  What does it look like inside? How do they have it decorated?  How big is the back yard?  How many bathrooms, bedrooms, etc.?  What are the people like who live there?… the list goes on and on.

On occasion, I will satisfy my curiosity by driving through an area that has caught my eye.  Oftentimes, that is enough to tame my inner beast; but sometimes, if the stars and planets are aligned just right between the sun and the moon, I’ll take it one step further and find a house that’s for sale so I can make an appointment to look around inside.  And tonight was one of those times…

My youngest daughter and I had just come back from eating Pizza.  It was just the two of us tonight and we didn’t have anything better to do, so I decided to ride through a neighborhood that I see every day and had often wondered about.

As I pulled into the subdivision, I was instantly attracted to the layout.  It was like a huge circle, with the street as the outer layer, and inside of the circle were houses that all lined up to face each other, with the driveways facing out – so as you drove down the street, all you saw were the backs of every house (the garages, to be exact, as every unit came complete with a two car garage and a mailbox at the end of the short driveway).  I was so attracted, in fact, that I contacted my friend’s mom – who just so happens to be a realtor – and asked her if she could get me an appointment to see the inside of one of the four that I noticed were for sale.

Now, for the record, I’m not really planning on moving anywhere but every once in a while the pull of a place will be so strong that I just have to act!  And why not, when I happen to have a connection to help me out - as long as I don’t abuse it, right?

A few minutes later, she texted me back that she would be glad to make me an appointment and asked me for an address – which, of course, I didn’t have.  So, CJ and I hopped back into the car and went back.  I immediately started texting her information:  The “correct” name of the subdivision – since I, of course, got it wrong the first time (I am SO HORRIBLE with names!  It’s a curse.) – an address of one house, information about two others that were for sale by owner, and right about the time I had just finished texting her the information of the fourth and final house for sale in the quaint little area, she texted me back:

“Yvette, honey you can’t purchase in ‘the name of the community’.  You’re not old enough!  How long has it been since you’ve heard that?? It’s a 55+ S/D”

*SIGH* Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to get my mom to get me in.  (tee-hee!)

I haven’t had to worry about being old enough to gain entry somewhere since I turned 21, just a few years ago.  I suppose now I’ll have something else to look forward to

After bringing her home, I went inside to fix her some food and water, while Kayla stayed with her in the backyard.  When I came back out, she was running after Kayla, all over our back yard, tail wagging 90 mph.  Words cannot describe how amazing it was to see such a complete and wonderful transformation in this little dog.  Only minutes ago, she was so wary that she wouldn’t even let us get within five feet of her without backing away, while barking at us; and now she was happily running after Kayla and jumping up on her legs as if they had been friends forever.

We named her Penelope and introduced her to our furbabies, by taking them all for a walk.  We also discovered that she had recently had a litter of pups; so recent, in fact, that she was still lactating.  We went back to the field and searched, but found no evidence of any puppies.

She was adorable and loving, despite her circumstances; but having two dogs of our own, I knew I couldn’t keep her so I had called my friend, who runs the Tails of Hope Dog Rescue, to share Penelope’s story and sent her several pictures.  As it turns out, one of her fosters was bottle feeding two new-born pups - not even a week old, they’re eyes were still closed - that had been abandoned in a neighboring county.

In hopes of filling a two-part void, we took Penelope to the foster home the next day, to see if she would accept the pups and allow them to nurse.

I’m pleased to report that Penelope is now playing the role of a surrogate mother to these two little pups.  All three are thriving and doing well in their foster environment.  It is our hope that, as soon as the pups are weened, all three will be adopted out to loving forever homes.

Chris had been laid off for three years. Actually, he quit his
job at the peak of the recession a month after we started dating. I worked in
between, doing modeling gigs to pay the bills. Why he quit his job may be brought
up in prior blogs, but not now. However, Chris just started a new job about
five months ago doing water-proofing and roofing. The money is good, but it
mostly is spent on this motel and things like gas, smokes, and food.

My gigs are difficult to manage now that Chris and I only
have one car, and he has no work schedule, except for the fact that he has to
be there at 6am. I drive him to work and pretty much wait for his phone call
for me to pick him up. He gets off of work anywhere from 9am until 8 pm. It’s
crucial never knowing from day to day how much time I will have to get things
done.

Every day is the same. We get him to work, I run errands,
pick him up from work, we watch more TV with micro-wave magic dinner, and then
pack his lunch. Then I get to be noticed for about 15 minutes when the lights
are out and the TV is turned off. It’s always the same. He starts making out
with me, then kisses my tits, plays with my clit until I get off and then he
fucks me for about three minutes until he’s done. I then go wash my face and
put on lotion. By the time I get back to bed he’s usually asleep. It’s the same
every day. I feel like I am living the movie “Ground Hog Day”. The only
difference is that theirs is no time saved.

Now, I am creeping up on my 26^th Birthday and
wondering what is to become of my youth, my dreams, and my aspirations. When I see
couples holding hands or smiling at each other, I feel such a deep hurt in the
depths of me. I always preach the Disney magic, true love and ‘Princess Bride’.
I feel like such a hypocrite

I am constantly wishing there were someone to make me have strength
again. I need an escape or for this spell to be broken. I used to be so free. I
have become conservative and stuffy. I don’t know what it is that makes me so
afraid to leave. Maybe I am afraid of what everyone would think of me. Maybe I
have just formed this terrible habit. .
I guess the biggest comfort I have in Chris is that he’s not like the
guys in my past that beat me. The reason I say “someone” to give me strength is
because I have become so isolated. I only have several friends left, and have
only seen them once in the past year. They don’t know any of these things that
plague me. They don’t even know where I am living. This is definitely a “Rapunzel”
situation.

I know these blogs make it sound like I am still waiting on
a “Prince”, but that’s not it at all. I really just need to vent and see with
my own eyes, in black and white, what my life is really like. Then hopefully, I
will have a voice. I won’t be invisible anymore. I can save myself when I am resurrected.
Right now I am just the ghost of a true princess. It’s always the worst part of
each fairytale when something amazing happens. I hope something happens soon. I
feel my existence is fading, and I will soon be lost behind the looking glass.

Whether it’s to learn how to fix something on the computer, or to find out if other people are experiencing similar problems that you’re having with a product, or to define a word or phrase that you’ve never had before… Whatever the case may be, when you want to know something you turn to Google.  Through Google search, you can find the answer to almost any question that you may have.

Even my seven year old knows about Google!

Last year, CJ got a very special gift from Santa.  Everyone in our family has a laptop and she always wanted to borrow them to play her games, but it was hard for her to find a time when others were willing to share.  So, Santa did a little research on age appropriate laptops for children and found the adorable, little, pink, Disney laptop that she got for Christmas.

The other day, I was out shopping when my phone rang.  It was Chaun, calling to tell me about our youngest daughter.  When he came out of the bathroom, she popped up from her place on the couch and asked, guiltily, what he was doing.  He could tell right away, by her expression and the way she was acting, that she thought he almost caught her doing something she didn’t want him to know about.

He responded by telling her that he was taking a shower and asking her what she was doing.

“Nothing,” she said, “just watching TV and playing on the computer.”

At this point, he had walked over to where she was sitting and could see that she had the lid to her laptop down, so that he couldn’t see
what was on her screen.

“What are you playing on your computer?” He asked her.

“Nothing,” she told him, acting nervous and strange.

He then asked her to see her laptop to which she told him, “No,” while snapping it shut and holding on tight.

Actually, “holding on with all her might” would probably be a more accurate way to describe her clutch on the computer, because he then
went on to tell me that he had to muscle that computer out of her hands – she was NOT letting go – and when he finally got it out of her firm little grip, he saw that she had Google up with a search for “Big Girls Nekid” and results, with images, were displayed.

Afterwards, he took the computer away from her and sent her to her room to await for my return – he is of the belief that, since we have
two girls, “these types” of issues are for the “mommy” to deal with.  So, when I got home she came downstairs and we talked.

“What were you trying to find on your computer?” I asked her, in a curious tone.

Embarrassed and still under the impression that she had done something wrong, she refused to tell me what it was that she was looking
for.  Several hours later, and still not making much headway, I got the computer down and looked at the history.  From there, I found that her first Google Search was for “I wont to see big girls pepe and but” After reading this query aloud, my oldest daughter’s eyes got very big and she held up her hand, like she was in school and wanted me to call on her, and said, “Momma, can I speak to you alone for a minute?”

“No, Kayla,” I told her. “Right now I’m trying to understand what it is that CJ was attempting to learn.  If you know what this is about then you just need to tell me now.”

“Okay, well,” she begins. “Earlier today I forgot to flush the toilet.” (and I’m thinking to myself, no surprise there) “And I’m having my girl time, and CJ went in and saw it, and she asked me what it was, and I didn’t know what to say.  So I looked over in the garbage can and saw a sucker in there and told her it was a sucker.”

AH-HA!

And there you have it folks…

My baby ain’t no sucker, sucker!  She knew good-n-well that wasn’t the truth and, instead of arguing, she decided to find out the answer herself by looking it up on Google.

Needless to say, I got Kayla to dig out and dust off the age appropriate sex education books so that she could learn the correct meaning of
what it was that she saw.  And I told her that any time she had questions like that she could come to me instead of Google and I would tell her the truth. After all, that’s what I’m here for.

You know what they say about people who ASS-U-ME, right?

“Yvette,” the caller said. “There’s been a little incident at your house.”

Immediately, I picture Fire Trucks, Ambulances and at least five police cars parked in my front yard.

“It’s not anything too serious.” He then informs me, “but ….” yadda, yadda, yadda is really all I heard until he reached the point where he said… “and when I went to help her put the window down, it fell into the house and broke.”

The word ‘broke’ not registering in my brain, I replied, “So can’t you go into the house and push it back up into the frame, then leave out the front door?”

“Well,” he said. “I could go in and push it back into the frame, but when it fell it shattered. So, you’re basically cooling off the outside right now.”

“OH!” I said, and I asked if he would seal it up with a plastic bag until I could get home and assess the damage.

One Upper’s – everyone knows at least one…

If you have a cold, then they have double pneumonia.  If you twisted your ankle, then they broke their leg in three places.  If you have a headache, then they have a brain aneurysm.

Today, I had lunch with a friend that I haven’t seen in a while and, after telling her my broken window story, she went into the story of how one of her twin boys ”blew up” their kitchen this past weekend.

The whole family was outside, washing their cars – one was vacuuming, one was soaping, one was rinsing and apparently, one got hungry and went inside to fix himself a bite to eat.

A few minutes later, he comes back outside and tells them that there’s smoke in the kitchen.  Immediately going inside to check things out, they soon discover that there’s SMOKE in the kitchen -  and it’s billowing out from the microwave door!

Upon opening the microwave, she finds that the noodles inside are on fire!

“Did you know that if you heat noodles in the microwave for three minutes, without adding any water, they will catch on fire?” She asked.

After grabbing the fire extinguisher and putting out the flames, dumping the now charred microwave in the garbage and opening all windows and doors to air out the smell,  she banned him from ever (until he’s like 20 years old) being in her kitchen, alone, again.  To which her oldest daughter busted out laughing and said, “HA-HA! He’s on Kitchen Arrest!”

While this friend does not usually fall into the category of being a “one upper”, she sure got me this time!

And if I’m being completely honest, this is one time when being one upped wasn’t such a bad thing.  In fact, it made me laugh (A LOT!) and it also felt good to know that I’m not the only one with kids who do completely unexplainable, crazy stuff – for no apparent reason.

Thanks Tiff

One thing I’ve always wanted to do, was spend a night in a place that is reportedly haunted and this week I got my chance!

Mom and I were both on vacation this week, so I got online and started looking for something we could do, somewhere we could go that would be fun but wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg.  In my search, I came across a site for The Crescent Hotel – built in 1886 and known as being one of the most haunted hotels in America.  Needless to say, I called them up that very night and made reservations for two nights in one of their most active rooms.

First of all, let me just tell you how beautiful this hotel was… It was simply amazing!  In fact, everything about that little town was appealing.  Surrounded by mountainous lands with glorious trees and landscapes, the  houses were all very quaint and had tons of character.

The Crescent Hotel and Spa has changed hands several times throughout its many years and has quite an amazing history.  The story behind the room Mom and I stayed in is as follows:

Michael was an Irish stonesman who fell to his death during the construction of the building and his body landed in what is today room 218.   Michael’s ghost is reported to bang on the walls, turn the lights on and off and turn on the TV in the room.  He is also said to be quite a prankster and ”loves” the ladies… Well, that was good news for Mom and me because we were staying in his room for two nights and looking forward to experiencing his antics.

Not even ten minutes after we got to our room, there was a faint knock on our door.  I walked to the door only to hear two ladies wondering aloud if this room was available to the public.  I opened the door, which must have scared them to death because they were halfway down the hall when I poked my head out and said, “boo!”  We had a laugh together, then chatted for a while about the room and its history.

Later that evening, we went on a Ghost Tour of the hotel.  This is where we learned of the history of the hotel itself, along with many stories leading up to how it came to be haunted.  From young men, women and children falling (or being pushed) to their deaths, to a con artist quack who bilked millions out of families by claiming to have a cure for cancer then performing experimental treatments in his morgue.  The fact that this place is haunted comes as no surprise.

I had my digital recorder going for the majority of our stay (even when we were out and about, checking out the town) and I am still in the process of reviewing the recordings.  So far, I have found a few possible EVP’s and a host of unexplained noises; but, as for personal experiences, I must admit they were few and far between.  With the exception of our first night, when it sounded like someone was trying to come into our room at 11:30 – while mom slept and I reviewed my pictures, for the most part, our time at The Crescent Hotel was uneventful.  However, that did not  detract from how much I thoroughly enjoyed our stay and it in no way indicates that the place isn’t active.

Everything about this trip was fabulous – the beauty of the hotel, the friendly people that we met, the delicious meals that we ate and the gorgeous scenery surrounding us.  If you’re looking for a place to escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, with beautiful surroundings and a relaxing atmosphere, this just might be the place to go.

Monday, May 23rd – 8:30 PM: 

Wednesday, May 25th – 8:00 PM: Milk Music w/ Squidz and Burgers @ Davis Bike Collective - This is sounding like a rip roaring show with distorted riffs for days. Honestly if Milk Music is as good live as their recordings sound I’m going to have a tough choice to make on Wednesday.

Wednesday, May 25th – 8:30 PM: S. Carey w/ Other Lives and Tor House @ Sophia’s Thai Kitchen - Usually when I see this show advertised it’s as “S. Carery (of Bon Iver!)” and, upon hearing his voice, you can definetly recognize it from Bon Iver’s record. The music is finely crafted and harmonized dark-woods folk music sort of akin to The Dodo’s. Two folk/orchestral indie acts round out the line up.

Thursday, May 26th – 9:00 PM: Larry & His Flask w/ My Life In Black & White and Calry DuHain @ Sophia’s Thai Kitchen - As you would expect from a band called Larry & His Flask, they are a ruckus hoedown band singing about sex and being poor. If you like folk/american music with punk ascetics this show is for you.

Friday, May 27th – 9:00 PM: Or, The Whale w/ Olin & The Moon and The Bye Bye Blackbirds @ Sophia’s Thai Kitchen - Or, The Whale has been the the porch many a time and play a set of slide guitar alt-country. They are joined by two like minded artists for a night of of slide guitar… slidin’.

Saturday, May 28th – 7:15 PM: Big Black Cloud w/ Zig Zags, The Babs Johnson Gang, and Crack The Case @ DAM Haus (503 E St.) - I saw Big Black Cloud at ORMF back in October and they were one of the better acts of the part of the festival that I attended. Throw in The Babs Johnson Gang, who I previously saw open for Ty Segall, and you’ve got a pretty fun little show.

We have no voice.

We can’t tell you when we were born or even how old we are.

We can’t tell you what they called us or how we were treated.

We can’t tell you if we are current on our shots or if we are sick.

We are the animals that others abuse, neglect, over breed or discard.

We have been found in abandoned houses, tied to trees with our collars grown into our skin, starved to the point that we couldn’t even stand up, used as punching bags, kicked and beaten, set on fire, used as bait for human entertainment, the list goes on and on.

The cost of these transgressions is to be thrown into an already overcrowded doggie jail and given a death sentence.  Oftentimes, even those of us who are lucky enough to escape the death sentence will end up fatally ill.  Sometimes, a ray of light shines down on us and one of God’s Angels of Mercy scoops in and rescues us.

There are thousands of us. This is the story of only two.

Mena’s Story:

My name is Mena and I’m a Boston Terrier.  As far as anyone can tell, I’m about a year and a half.  I was abandoned at a truck stop and rescued by Miss Ginger, with Tails of Hope.  Not long after she took me in, I got really sick with double pneumonia.  After many prayers said on my behalf and a lot of TLC from Ginger, I was finally on the road to recovery and ready to find my forever family.

Sid’s Story:

I was found, walking down the streets of Memphis during all the great rains and flood waters.  I’m a Pug named Sid and they think I’m about three years old.  The lady who found me let me stay with her for a week, in hopes that someone would put out signs and try to find me, but no one came forward.  She couldn’t keep me because she already had two dogs and several cats so she took me to the humane society.

Two Tails of Hope:

Being a life long animal lover, every time I see the Tails of Hope tent, at the local pet store, I have to stop by and check out all the sweet furbabies up for adoption.  It was a normal Saturday afternoon.  Mom and I had gone to the movies and were on our way to Target, when I looked up and noticed the purple tent.

“Look, mom!  The purple tents are up.  Can we stop by and look at the adoption babies?”  I asked.

“We can look,”  she said,  “as long as you don’t go home with another dog.”

While I had been debating whether or not I wanted to get another companion for Abby, our 3.5 lb Yorkie-Poo, I really wasn’t looking for another dog.

“I won’t,” I said.  “I’m not looking to get another dog, I just want to see what all they have.”

And then…  I saw her.

She was lying down in a volunteers lap and you could tell that she was getting over being sick.  She was black and white, with the sweetest face you’ve ever seen.

She was a Boston Terrier named Mena and it was love at first sight.

Someone had already filled out an application on her but, after talking to one of the foster moms, I filled one out too.  “You just never know,” she said.  “They don’t all go through.”

About a week later, without any word, I had no reason to believe she hadn’t been adopted.  Then I got a call from Ginger; she wanted to know if I was still interested in adopting Mena.  We set up a meet and greet for Mena to come over and see how well she fits in with the rest of our family.  They came over the next day and she and Abby ran around and played in the backyard while we talked.  She was scheduled to get spayed on Wednesday and we were picking her up the following Saturday.

Not long after we got her home, we noticed that she was acting strangely – stumbling and tripping over her feet, as if she was drunk.  I thought it might have been a side effect of the medicine she was taking but, to be on the safe side, I placed a call to Ginger.  Stumped, she gave me some suggestions – we were treating her for possible heat exhaustion and keeping a close eye on her.  After several hours with no improvement, we met back up with Ginger and she took her back home for further observation.  She took her to the vet several more times but by Wednesday it was apparent that she wouldn’t be getting better.  With her being a rescue dog, we had no history of her past medical conditions.  The best the vets could guess, she had the last stages of distemper and had to be humanely laid to rest.

It was a devastating blow for everyone involved, that such a sweet and loving baby was neglected and then abandoned when the entire situation was completely preventable if only they would have taken the time to take her to the vet and care for her.  The next day I received a very sweet email from another Boston lover.  She expressed her condolences for our loss and told me of a friend of hers who breeds Boston Terrier’s, if I was interested.  Having my heart set on getting Mena, I thought about her sweet offer all night and got very excited.  I contacted her friend the next day, picked out our little Boston Terrier puppy and put down a deposit.

The next day, I was playing on the computer and somehow I landed on the Tails of Hope, pet of the week, website and there I saw MuChu – a Pug who looked just like Sebastian (aka Snoot), our family Pug when I was growing up.  I immediately placed a call to Ginger.  The first thing I said, when she answered the phone was “Ginger, this is Yvette. I want the Pug.”  Unfortunately, MuChu had been adopted over a year ago by a family in Florida.  I was a little disappointed that she didn’t have the Pug, and we still don’t know how I ended up on a webpage with him as the pet of the week, but I still had my deposit on the Boston puppy; although I was beginning to have some reservations about raising another puppy and Chaun was not thrilled with the idea at all.

On Tuesday, Ginger called. “God has such an amazing sense of humor.”

“He does?” I said, “What has He done now?”

She goes on to tell me how she received a call from the Humane Society, who normally only takes in injured animals, about a Pug that was surrendered that morning and they wanted to know if she would take him.

We’ve had Sid for about two weeks now.  He is such a good boy and quiet the lover boy too!  He responds to his name, he’s housebroken and gets along with everyone.  He loves getting his ears rubbed, going for walks around the neighborhood and playing with Abby in the back yard.

From the moment we met him, he was ours.  He ran right to me – as if he knew exactly who I was and that we would be his new forever family.

When I woke up this morning, I was in a perfectly good mood. I was able to get CJ out of the bed in a timely manner. I had time to make my morning tea and our breakfast. We even had time to complete a homework assignment that we had started over the weekend but failed to finish.

Although it was another wet and dreary morning, in what has been a series of exceptionally dreadful weather, I was grateful that my drive into work was, for the most part, uneventful. While there were several overgrown sized puddles, I didn’t encounter any flooded areas and though all the animals I saw were lined up in pairs of two, I was able to make it to my destination without converting my car into the go-go gadget rowboat. With no defined trigger point, it seems that what started out as a good mood took soon took a turn for the worse and landed on pissy.

Later that evening I had several stops to make.

First stop, after picking up CJ from school: Walgreens.

Apparently, after work is the prime time for everyone to pick up their prescriptions… If it weren’t for the fact that it is now MAY and I am still dealing with the insurance company and trying to get our coverage straightened out, then I wouldn’t have had to sit in that line because I could have gotten my prescription on Sunday, like I tried to do when they told me we were still coming up as ineligible for coverage.

Next stop: Drop off items at Goodwill.

When we arrived, CJ was already unbuckling her seatbelt in preparation to get out of the car and “help”. Telling her to stay put, I put the car in neutral, pulled the brake, got out and walked around to the trunk. The rain began in earnest again and once more I told her to get back into the car, while I unloaded our donations. No sooner than I had closed the trunk then I looked up to find CJ was still outside of the car, and now she was telling me that she couldn’t get back in, like I asked, because she had accidentally locked the door.

Sure enough, after testing all doors, the car was locked up tight – engine running and my purse and cell phone all nice and cozy on the inside while she and I stood outside, in the cold rain, looking in.

After expressing one or two strongly emphasized words of frustration towards the child who had, in the blink of an eye, taken the mood pissy and turned it into pissed off, I looked up to see the shocked expressions on several faces of the Goodwill workers, who weren’t quite sure what direction that crazy woman was going to turn next and struggling with their moral compasses as to whether or not they should turn a blind eye or stay put and bear witness - just in case.

“BLEEP, Chauna! How in the BLEEP did you manage to lock us out of the BLEEPEN car? If you would have stayed in the BLEEPEN car, like I BLEEPEN told you to, this wouldn’t have BLEEPEN happened. BLEEEEEEP!!”

(I’m just kidding, sort of, it wasn’t really THAT bad)

After taking a deep breath, I turned my attention to the problem at hand and asked the small, gathered group of workers if anyone had a phone I could use.

Two hours and $180 later, my car doors were unlocked and we were finally on our way back home.

Tomorrow, I plan to find an address for the corporate offices of Goodwill so that I can send them a letter about the overwhelming generosity and kindness that the employees of their location here in Crazyville displayed tonight.

Every single one of them went out of their way to help me find a way to solve the problem. One lady even stuck around until well after her shift had ended, just so she could know that I got everything taken care of and was safely back inside my car. This very same lady used her own money to buy CJ a drink and snack while we waited. To experience this level of behavior during a time that might otherwise have been spent focusing on nothing but the bitterness of the situation was very humbling.

When I write this letter, however, I think I’m going to leave out the employee who looked at CJ and then looked at me and asked, “Is that your grandchild?”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!

At least I could, maybe, see where people might be coming from when they ask a question like, “When are you due?” because I’m fat. BUT I do not look old! In fact, I have always been told that I look much younger than my actual age. CJ is SIX and I haven’t even turned 4D yet – I have a few more months to go, thankyouverymuch! How in.the.hell old does he think I am?!?! SHEESH!

When I watch my girls outside playing or acting silly with their friends, it brings to mind fond memories of being young and carefree.

When they come home and tell me stories about their day in school or complain about their least favorite subject, I think about the things I would have done differently, had I known then what I know now.

And sometimes, when I’m alone and lost in reverie, I think back on mistakes that I made along the way or, at times a few of life’s more embarrassing moments;  but of all the awkward instances that come to mind, I don’t think any of them could top that of last night.

Nope, last nights performance will be one for the record books!

It was Kayla’s 2011 Spring Concert.  We had paid our $5 and were in the high school’s performing arts center, watching each of the middle school choir’s sing – sixth grade choir, boys choir and advanced girls choir.  And out of the advanced boys and girls choir, 27 were selected for All State.  That is an amazing accomplishment and a testament of just how good these young singers are.

They were wonderful!  All of them!

A couple of hours later, ending with a tribute to queen, the performance was at a close; but you know what they say about the show being over…

It ain’t over ’til the fat lady…  falls??  No, that’s not right.

We were sitting in the middle of the theater.  Grandma and Grandpa were on one end and the other end was blocked off for the video recording.  Everyone was filing out of the theater in an orderly fashion.  Everyone, that is, EXCEPT for grandma and grandpa down there…  No, they stayed rooted to the spot and waited for each of their grandchildren to come to them, so they could hug and kiss and talk about how great everyone was.

The rows above and below us were both completely empty and yet there we stood, not moving - at all!  When all of a sudden, fight or flight set in and I had to find a way to get out of there!  So me, and all my infinite wisdom, decided that I was going to go for it…

I picked CJ up and set her back down on the row above us and then placed my left foot on the folding theater seat.  No sooner than I realized this might not have been one of my better ideas, than the weight of my foot caused the seat to lift, trapping my foot between it and folding me over like an elephant on the top of a tree.

“WOOO-OOOH!” I said, in what sounded to me like my slow motion voice, as my body bent unnaturally backwards and my arms went flailing about, in an effort to steady my balance.  With the imminent danger of hitting the floor (thank you, Cierra, for acting fast and catching me before I could hit) and my foot still trapped in the chair, I shift my body mass forward and grab desperately for the chair in front of me, in an effort to pull myself up.  Picture, if you will, the image of a turtle, trapped on his back and trying to get himself turned back over.

As the slow motion of my ultimate humiliation played on, time finally went back to normal and I was able to set myself back to rights.  Past the point of no return, and with my foot still firmly lodged between the seat, I swung my right leg over the offending chair and found myself on the safety of the row above.

In preparation of a quick escape, I yanked my foot out of its trap, took a deep breath and sang out, “SHIIIIIIT!”  Immediately shocking the delicate sensibilities of those around me – including Grandma and Grandpa who still stood in the exact same spot, mouths agape.

And there you have it folks, the fat lady has sung and the show is now over.   Something tells me Kayla won’t be inviting dear mom to her next concert.

To recap, you may recall the proceedings that we had several years back - the one where he tried to divorce me.  While everyone was amiable throughout the proceedings, in the end the split was final, I had custody of the child, and it was clear to all that he would no longer be providing support.

If you know me at all, you know that this was obviously not the end of the story.  I would never choose a person who could be as cold-hearted as that – someone who could create a child and then walk away without providing child support – for a work husband!

It took years to find someone who understood exactly what we wanted and knew how to help us accomplish our goals.  He created this brainchild and though he said he would no longer be able to provide support, no one else understood it like he did and that wasn’t something I was going to just let walk away.   And, being the wonderful person/father that he is in real life, he was there for me each and every time that I needed his help.  Oh sure, I had to listen to plenty of grumbling along the way, but support me he did!

Then one day, I came across a posting for a job that looked like something I would be interested in doing.  If nothing else, it was an opportunity to learn a new skill set and that’s not something I could let pass me by.

Long story short, I posted for that job and my ex (even though I never officially gave him that title) work husband became my boss.

It’s coming up on a year since I first made the leap into this department and a lot has changed since then.

It seems like I hit the ground running, full speed ahead.  But you’ll have to stay tuned to hear more about it, because this story is to be continued…

Well since my day has been far from ideal…her are a few things that have been getting me through the day:

1. Ceasar Salad, broccoli cheddar soup, and a latte from Panera Bread
2. Vibrant and soft colored spring clothes at Forever 21
3. Going to see Gone With The Wind tonight at SLO Rewind at the Fremont Theater
4. My mani & pedi that is still perfectly intact (I obsess over my nails not chipping!)
5. My Life in Black and White. Amazing band. Live and on CD.

Hope everyone else is having a better day! At least I’m trying to stay positive!

Prior to having her tested, there was a mountain of paper work that I had to complete, which included a checklist,  in order to determine whether or not she even needed to be tested

Now, I realize that most people hear that and they automatically think that you are one of “those parents“, making excuses for your child’s poor behavior and taking the easy way out by over-medicating them and turning them into a living zombie. But I can assure you that  isn’t the case here,  nor is it the point of this story. 

I tell you all this to say, that as I was going through the questions on the checklist, I found myself forgetting whether the questions were pertaining to her or me. 

And when I called the doctor to make an appointment, the first thing the lady asked me was “which one of her parents has it?”  While I’ll admit I was a bit thrown by her comment at the time, I have since come to terms with the fact that I am most likely one of the many undiagnosed adults who learned to cope by becoming obsessively anal, severely structured and extremely organized.

For example, one of the things that I find I have trouble doing, is tuning things out.  If I’m in a restaurant eating and you happen to be talking at a table close by, I can hear and follow your entire conversation – because I don’t know how not to listen.

The thought of germs is another area in which I struggle:

• I don’t like being around sick people
• Every time someone coughs or sneezes, I cringe.
• Listening to someone clipping their nails is like the sound of medal scraping down a chalkboard to me
• Flossing your teeth is something that should only be done in the privacy of your bathroom.

And don’t let me have an open container while your particles are flying around, loose in the air. Oh my goodness!

All of these little “quirks” of mine can become a nuisance when you work in a cubical environment.  For instance, every time someone walks past my line of vision, I’m distracted.  I hear people s phone conversations – whether I want to or not – several cubes down from me. And whether people are coughing, sneezing, blowing their noses, snoring or farting, I hear it!

Oftentimes, when there’s too much going on around me and I find myself  unable to concentrate I put my earplugs in, in order to drown out the noise level. And this has been one of those weeks…

Though the earplugs don’t necessarily help when there’s a guy pacing back and forth, in front of your desk, while he talks on his cell phone.  Every time he would walk past my peripheral line of vision, it would cause me to get distracted and look up.

… This week, we have several contractors and visitors from out-of-town in our office, which makes it far noisier in there than usual. And today, for the second day in a row, I found myself feeling like I was trapped in the middle of a Germ Hell.

Between the smoker – who is trying to cough up his left lung – and the crop duster – who blows his nose so hard it sounds like a goose mating season in there - and the recycler – who coughs, snorts, sucks it out and hocks it up, ALL DAY LONG - I think I’m loosing my mind.

Even with my earplugs in, it’s very hard to ignore all of that.  And so tomorrow, I guess I will go in once more to Snot Symphony #9.

It seems the past month has been one of the more stressful times that I can recall having in a long while.  In addition to the regular stresses of everyday home and work life, Mother Nature has decided to bless us with more snow in three short weeks than we’ve seen in years.  At one point, I began to wonder if someone had put us inside a snow globe when we weren’t looking; and every time we turned around, they were shaking it back up again.  

In between all of the school closings, I’ve also missed several days of work due to a case of head lice in the family; which, if you’ve never had to deal with that then you should get down on your knees and thank your lucky stars.  And while you’re down there, you’ll want to pray that you never do have to deal with it!   I swear, if I never have to deal with that again it will be too soon! 

So we get the bugs taken care of , we’ve washed everything washable in the house and disinfected everything else, and just when I thought things were settling down, CJ gets strep throat and an ear infection.  Then, on her first day back to school, they closed early due to another round of winter weather. 

Hey, Mother Nature, I don’t know if you’ve heard… but the groundhog did NOT see his shadow - Bring on the Spring!

I haven’t been in the office for an entire week and I’m beginning to think this sofa is attached to my butt – LITERALLY!  I hope, when I get ready for work on Monday, I don’t forget that I can’t wear my pajama’s and fuzzy slippers.

Today, as the week finally wound down and the exhaustion of all the stress began to set in, I headed to my bedroom to hunker down in the warmth of my big, comfy bed. 

After sleeping for about an hour, I suddenly awaken in the midst of a startled little scream. I bolt upright in the bed saying, “Oh Shit!  OhMyGod, OhMyGod, OhMyGod!” 

And then, the worlds biggest spider was no longer there.

I kept waiting for it to show back up, but it never did.  Cautiously, I leaned over to see if I could find where it went; but it was gone – POOF – just like that.   Now normally, I’m not afraid of spiders, but that thing was HUGE!

I sit here now, almost dreading the thought of going back into my bedroom, wondering if I really saw that spider – hanging from the ceiling, looking like he was just getting ready to crawl in the bed with me before I jumped up and altered his plans – or was that somehow, just a dream?

How could I have a spider THAT BIG in my house, and never see any signs of any other spiders ever before?

Can spiders even get that big?

Maybe it was just a dream…

But, how could it be a dream, when I clearly remember being awake when I saw him?

What do you think?  Real or a dream?

I’m not sure, but I’m about to go to bed and I’m going to let him know that my name is not Little Miss Muffet.  Maybe then, if he really was real, he’ll go bug someone else and leave me alone!

This year, I’ve decided I’m going to switch things up and write a Christmas blog post instead – still available to all of our family and friends, but able to reach a much larger audience, as it will also publish to my Facebook account, where several others, whose email addresses I don’t have, will be able to view it as well.

It amazes me how fast time seems to fly now that I am grown with children.  I can remember the days of my youth, when it felt like Christmas was never going to get here; and now, it seems like we just finished unwrapping last years presents when the hustle and bustle is once more upon us, for another round of joy and merriment.

This has been a big year of change for us:

CJ is in first grade this year.  We still love the schools out here, but she has made it abundantly clear that she does not like being in the first grade – no more nap time and they actually have to do work,  “not just coloring  and fun stuff like we did in kindergarten.” (oh, the horror!) 

As I dropped her off for school one morning, she said, “Momma, do you know my favorite part of school?” 

“No,” I replied. “What’s that?”

“Lunch.”

HA-HA!!  This year has been a big adjustment for her, but she’s been doing very well in school.  She’s growing like a weed and learning everything she needs to know, in order to become an accomplished second grader

Kayla is in eighth grade this year, meaning next year will be her first year of [GULP] high school.  She is doing very well in school and continues to nurture her passion for singing. 

I really struggled to find something for her to do over the Summer months.  Did you know that the older our kids get, the harder it is to find something to keep them entertained during the summer months?!?!?  Every program I found ended at the ripe old age of thirteen – but they can’t legally work until they’re sixteen.  So what are those kids supposed to do for entertainment during the summer months?  Sit on their butts and watch TV, while talking on the phone and snacking all day (or worse)??   And we wonder why our children are overweight… (or better yet, why there’s such an increase in teen pregnancy)

In an effort to help foster her love for singing and improve her stage presence, I enrolled her in a Summer Program at Playhouse on the Square this year.  Each group wrote their own play, which they performed for the parents at the end of the summer.  It was great fun!  I’m so thankful that I found this program!

Also over the summer, we took a family trip to Mason, OH., where we stayed at the Great Wolf Lodge.  We only left the hotel once, the entire time we were there, and had a fabulous time!  To say that it was amazing is putting it mildly.  We will be hard pressed to find another place like that one, where everyone involved will come home talking about how terrific it was.  In fact, I wouldn’t mind making that an annual vacation spot.

Chaun and I both continue to be blessed with gainful employment for two great companies, both of which take care of and appreciate their employees.  After working six years with my previous department,  this year also brought about some change for me, when I accepted a new position in a different department.    I’m still very close with my old team but am pleased to report that I also love my new team, as well as what I’m doing.

This will be our third Christmas celebrated in our home, here  in Crazyville, MS. and not a day has passed that we have not rejoiced for being led to such a wonderful community.  We are truly blessed!  And as we move into this new year, we want to let you all know that we are thinking of you this holiday season and we hope the new year brings peace, love and prosperity to you all.

Him: hey how are you

Me: Hey there!  I’m great, how are you? 

Him: I’m not doing good at all

Me: Oh No! What’s wrong?

Him: My vacation in wares uk got completely messed up. That’s where I am now, stuck in the uk.

Me: I hate to hear that.

Me: OH MY GOODNESS! Are you okay?

Him: No, it’s been a horrible experience. They got my cell phone, all my cash and credit cards.

Me: That’s awful! Is your wife there with you?

Him: Yes.  At least we still have our passports and life.

Me: Amen!

Him: We need your help.

Me:  Of course, what can I do?

Him: Our hotel bills got messed up.  We only need you to send us $2850 USD.  Do you know how to do that?

Me: I don’t have that kind of money. 

Him: It will only be until I can get back and  pay you.

Me: I trust you! Is there anyone else I can ask to help you out or anything else I can do?

Him: Anything at all that you could give would be appreciated. Do you have a local Western Union near you where you could wire the money to my name?

Me: Well, since I just spoke to the REAL Larry you might want to find yourself some other sucker. Asshole.

As you can see, there were several warning bells going off throughout this dialogue; plus, I started shaking and felt sick to my stomach.  With this conversation taking place over an instant message chat, I can see how someone might have felt obligated to hurry up and help a friend in need, before getting all the facts.  Luckily, I listened to those warning bells and paid attention to what my body was trying to tell me and in doing so, I was able to avoid being victimized.  

This was very scary for me and I can only imagine how I would be feeling had I fallen for it, only to discover afterwards that it was a scam.  And so I am sharing this story with you in hopes that it might help keep at least one person from becoming someone’s prey this holiday season. 

Please, please, please!  If someone EVER contacts you asking you to wire them money or if they EVER ask you for any kind of personal information (Social Security Number, Credit Card Number, the security code on the back of your credit card, etc.) DO NOT give it to them!!    No Bank or reputable company will EVER contact you asking you to provide personal information – they already have it in their records - and no friend will ever ask you to wire them money through an email or via Facebook chat. 

Listen to your instincts and stay safe. 

He looked at me, with a questioning look in his eyes and replied, “That is a large.” 

I picked the cup up and examined it, as if  it might miraculously grow into the large that I wanted, if I stared at it long and hard enough; but apparently, my powers of persuasion were on the fritz – since the cup stubbornly remained small.  Then I looked to where he pulled the cup from, just to ensure that he wasn’t trying to fool me, and sure enough, there were only two slots for cups and the larger of the two was labeled as 20 oz.  Once more, I examined my cup to ensure that it was, in fact, the large that it claimed to be and right there, printed on the side, was the number 20 from the land of oz. 

Finally, convinced that I wasn’t going to get anything larger, I took my small large cup over to the soda fountain and fixed myself a Diet Coke.  Then I went to grab a lid and a straw, only to find one sized lid…

Now, I ask you…. Where is the cup that goes with this 32 oz lid?!?!

This is the child who fights sleep ’til the very end.  The more tired she is, the worse she gets -  it’s exhausting just watching her, really.  And as for a nap – HA!! Yeah, right.

So, the young one was asleep on the couch and – as if that weren’t enough – she didn’t wake up for the entire night!  Oh sure, she would wake up for a couple of minutes here and there, but then she would drift right back off to sleep again.

Her husband had already indicated that he would be off Tuesday and Wednesday, so she decided then that she would have to get him to take her to the doctor the next day, because something just wasn’t right. 

The next day he took her in and the doctor looked her over.  She had a low-grade fever and a nasty cough but, other than that, everything else looked fine - which lead the doctor to believe that it was viral.  She prescribed some medicine to help with the cough but there’s really not much you can do for a virus – it just has to run its course.

After a bad night, her instincts told her that whatever this baby had, it was much worse than just a viral infection.  But, not wanting to come across as the mother who ran her child to the doctor for every little thing, she decided to wait a couple more days; plus, the pharmacy hadn’t filled the prescription yet so maybe once she got that it would help.

By Wednesday night – another sleepless night – it was abundantly clear that the cough medicine wasn’t going to touch what this child had and that she would need to go back to the doctor.  So, Thursday morning they were back in the doctor’s office with a clear-cut case of strep throat  – which, by the way, is exactly what I told them she had when I called to make the appointment.

A mother’s intuition, I tell ya, there’s nothing else like it.  I only wish it would have waited to kick in until after the symptoms actually showed up

The good news is – once we got a few doses of antibiotics in her – CJ is well on the road to recovery.

Josh Duke remembers The Rubberneckers’ final gig.