Tears For A Stranger

Today my heart breaks and my soul cries...for a man I never met, and for the dog he loved more than life itself.

In a suicide note, New Yorker Nick Santino wrote "Today I betrayed my best friend and put down my best friend.  Rocco trusted me and I failed him.  He didn't deserve this."

Rocco was Nick's pit bull and rather than give him up, he put him down.  After giving away all of his dogs possessions and food, Nick then took his own life.  His condo had adopted a regulation prohibiting ownership of pit bulls and even though Rocco was "grandfathered in," accounts say he was constantly being harassed about the dog.

Nick apparently, did not have the easiest of lives...it seems that Rocco was his life.  Of course there are always more reasons than what is obvious, when someone takes their life...but as a dog owner, I can understand the bond, especially when he is all you have.

Rocco has been cremated, Nick will be as well.  Their ashes will be buried together.  In the end Nick will get in death what he wanted so much in life...to be with his best friend.

If there are no dogs in heaven, I don't want to go.

Nuts? Indeed.

Do you realize that buying a decent steak in the store is cheaper than buying a pound of pistachios?  Now granted a pound of the nuts will last longer than a steak...with me, not a lot longer though.  But which is more satisfying...I'm going red meat baby.

In recent months, I have been consuming a lot of pistachios. You see, I've given up my beloved ring dings and yodels for this somewhat healthier eating option. Reluctantly I've come to realize that my sweets are no more than an apple in the Garden of Eden.  Choose them and you won't be banished...but you will be fat. I hate when that happens.  I gotta tell you though, they were a lot cheaper option...and tastier.

Eating pistachios is another thing.  I keep breaking fingernails, the outer skin gets all over everything and they don't really taste like much.  Still I eat them.  Can't figure out why I have developed this sudden addiction to them.

It's a bit nuts, don't you think?

Moo: Bring Those Babies Home

I do believe the cows have come home.

Technically, I did not finish that entire bottle of chardonnay.  I believe there was an ounce left...bad job by me.  So while I didn't look forward to yesterday's early morning dog walk...and taking my body's displeasure with me into consideration, the walk this morning was preceded by a couple of Advils.  Better living through pharmacology.

Still, not bad for a getting older but not dead yet, woman of a certain age.  A Saturday night of varying degrees of amusement, too little sleep (who says you can't be productive on 4 hours a night?), and a green bottle on its way to the recycling bin...this girl was still up and walking around the smaller lake (only 2 miles), before the sun was full up in the sky.

Proves nothing, means nothing. All I know is those cows got nothin' on me.
 Moo.

Sometimes A Dog Walk Is Not Just A Walk With The Dog

While writing blogs is a great way to vent, it also allows other people to realize just how really screwed up you are. However, even socially malfunctioning people with writing outlets require a little therapy.

Mine occurs every Friday when we arrive at the weekend house in the Poconos.  Evening drinks on the deck, afternoons walking around the lake, or the morning walk with the dog...are all times to be savored because they are always too short.

Until I'm out the door, the morning walk is not something I generally anticipate with any degree of enjoyment.  But once the walk begins, the silence and beauty of the lake and surrounding woods lightens my mood. Turning down one road, 10 deer in the road in winter formation.  During the winter months, deer generally walk in single file in larger herds.  My guess is once the snow is broken by the leader, it's easier for the rest of the group to follow in the same footprints.  Seeing my approach, 9 veer in one direction while one doe stays behind...and stares at us.  Is she older and no longer skittish of dogs and people...or just too scared to move.  We pass and eventually she rejoins the pack.

It's around seven in the morning..the sun has just begun transforming the sky with a paintbrush of pink and blue.  The colors reflect on the newly formed ice on the lake.  No cars, no people...just a nice start to a Saturday.

Three miles around the lake this afternoon seems like a go. Hope there's a glass of wine waiting for me on the deck.  Very therapeutic indeed.

Enough With The Bad Singing

So here's what I don't get.  Really bad singers on commercials. Seriously, why?  Thousands upon thousands of great vocalists are trying to get a gig, and then you have ad agencies hiring...and  their clients signing off on out-of-tune idiots.

The newest one is Pizza Hut.  This kid they have singing is awful, and who wrote the really bad song? I think this reality experiment has gone too far.  We all hate commercials...good ones are increasingly hard to find, but are they intentionally trying to make bad ones? And why in God's name, would a major company hire an ad agency that comes up with an idea sure to turn most people off?  Tell me, is there no CEO watching...who in your company thought this was a good idea?  Fire him...NOW.

During the holidays I think it was Honda which had the dumb-ass girl in the Santa hat singing another really bad tune... off key.  Stop already.  Either hire people who can sing...and not rejects from American Idol either, or stop using music in your commercials.

Oh, and hire a new ad agency.

Keeping In Shape: It's More Than Flat Abs

We all know what going to the gynecologist entails.  Basically a bit of pressing, a little pushing and a lot of probing...all in a position that would normally take place...well, while you are having a lot more fun.

I've only had two gyn's in my life.  My first was a wonderful, gentle man who, while he examined you, would speak in a very soft voice.  Not a good-looking man (always glad about that), I never really knew much about his life.  But he would always ask about mine.  And tell me what I should do to make the part of it he was involved in ...well more enjoyable.  And here I thought I was doing just fine.

He passed away a few years ago and I now go to a female gyn.  While I was a little weirded out at first, it really is a much more comfortable situation.  She is outgoing, younger and a think she might actually enjoy having sex.

As I arrived for my appointment yesterday, I had no real concerns over my health.  All the moving parts seem to be functioning correctly and I feel better than I have in a long time.  So when the Dr. said I was in really good shape for my age, I smiled as I was looking at the ceiling.  Then I looked at her and realized she was speaking not about my overall body...but actually one specific area....yeah...there.  Who knew it could get out of shape?  And does getting out of shape there mean too much use...or too little?  I probably should have asked, but I was kind of stunned at that moment.

As I got dressed, I was still thinking about her comment...but sure as hell felt pretty good about myself.  So ladies, apparently there is more to taking care of yourself...than meets the eye.  

Use it or lose it?  You decide.

Adios Jorge

And then there were two.  With today's official announcement, the "Core Four" go down to a dynamic duo.  Jorge Posada retires as a Yankee.  Just as Andy did (aside from that misguided adventure in Houston), and just as Mo and Jete will.  There will never be another core four, this group was indeed, one for the ages.

In the early years, we watched their careers with a mixture of anticipation and wonder.  These guys were good...but soon they would be great.  The bond we, as fans felt to them, could only be second to the bond they had with each other.

While Jorge could drive you crazy at times, there was never a doubt as to his competitiveness and fire as a player.  As the years pass and the skills of an athlete decline, you always hope for just one more great at bat, fielding play or pitching performance.  Jorge delivered that one night in September, as he pinched hit his way to reinforcing his Yankee legend.

So, this season will start with the last two of the core four battling the opposition, as well as their ages.  Time is never on the side of a professional athlete.  Each passing year demands we savor every save by the master..the man with ice running through his veins.  Then there's the Captain.  I've watched a lot of baseball over the years, never have I enjoyed the career of a player more than Jeter.  In any uniform, he would have been great.  But he has been ours..and always will be.

Today's announcement ends another chapter of Yankee tradition.

Gracias Jorge.  A True Champion, A Forever Yankee.

Super Bowl Rematch: It's Talking Time

Here we go again.  Big Blue in the Big Game up against Babyhead Brady.  Nice.

As you might know, I have no love lost for things Boston.  The city itself is great, had some fun times there, but the sports teams...specifically football and the hated Sox...yes I am a Yankee fan, turn me into a hateful bitch. Not that I think that's a bad thing.

To live in the New York area and be a fan of either the Pats or the Sox is, for me, inconceivable.  The "other's" bartender is a Red Sox fan...cannot comprehend it.  What's worse is he's raising his young son to be one too.  Talk about a lost generation.

Anyway, in two weeks the Super Bowl rematch begins. I can still remember all those 19-0 t-shirts that were printed prior to the last Giants-Pats Super Bowl...the ones that were given to some third world country when the Giants ruined the Pats perfect season. Such a shame. While this rematch is not quite as dramatic, and the outcome of a Giants win is not set in stone, we all now have two weeks to dissect, rehash and piss & moan about what should... and what will happen.

Brady...you're goin' down.

IM Conversations: Definitely Not Wasting Time

In a past blog, "Tying Up Loose Ends,"  the discussion centered on how I hate wasting time.  However, the actual meaning of wasting time can be very subjective.  Tying shoes...waste of time; spending precious moments IM'ing...of course not.

Since we all work in different places, my co-workers and I will IM off and on all day long, about various things to do with business.  Not the most fun use of time, but necessary to keep our company going.  Then there is the IM conversations with friends...definitely more gratifying.

While some IM's are quick and centered on who,what and where...there are another three subjects that it seems to me..get an inordinate amount of attention: Food, Booze and Hot Men... not necessarily in that order.  And, it seems we really like to have conversations about all three together as well (a nice sandwich, don't you think?)...add some music and we could go for days.

So the next time I'm in the express line of the supermarket, watching the bitch in front of me putting 72 items on the counter, I won't think of it as wasting time.  Instead I'll just think of it as an IM discussion to have later, where I fantasize about shoving that eggplant she's buying right down her throat.  

Then it will be back to the food, booze and hot men.  Yum.

Speak Nicely? Bite Me, That's Why I Write

Motivation.  I hate that word.  It has always seemed like one of those new age buzz words.  As a person who generally calls it like I see it...instead of saying "I need to get myself motivated," more often than not I would say "it's time to get my ass in gear."  Eloquent, maybe not..but I think it gets the point across just fine.

Some people might accuse my way of speaking as lazy and crass.  I beg to differ.  Trust me it takes plenty of brain cells to conjure up ways to throw vulgarities into a conversation, without sounding like the 10 year olds of today.  While I understand the freedom that goes along with being out of earshot of your parents and letting f-bombs fly...imaginative they are not.   And many times, using the more accepted "freakin" delivers the same power as...well you know.

I love to curse..always have.  Using those nasty words dramatically can A) get people's attention, B) allow you to see those offended by them...thus giving you an edge and C) demonstrate that you have a mouth to back up your attitude..oh and there's also a D) end up getting your ass kicked.  I choose to ignore that one.


Now, I'm not an idiot. I'm completely aware of the necessity of speaking well, and without vulgarities in many instances.  It's just that those are exactly the times when it's usually called for the most.

Maybe someday I will learn to speak in dramatic fashion without being crude and distasteful.  Could be all I need is a little... motivation.

ah, f--k it.

A New Twist On Happy Hour: To Us...Cheers

So when your friend and excellent drink partner I might add, lives 35 miles away, getting together for an afternoon cocktail is not always that easy.  Enter technology.

Picture an IM conversation that goes something like this:
T: Just got in...could use a cocktail
K: Can't argue that, shall I join you?
T: Come on over
K: Too far, I'll just grab a glass from the fridge.  What should we drink to?
T: Us
K: Indeed, cheers

As we share a glass of wine: her red, me white...we IM back and forth, send music links and laugh online.  Sure we could talk on the phone, but sometimes short little comments are just what you need at the end of the day.  Oh, and a shared glass of wine...long distance.

Need a refill...cheers

SOPA and PIPA...Don't Get It, Watch This

So you ask, what is all the hubbub about?  Censorship, censorship, censorship.  Those of us who work on the web, are crying out...leave it alone.

This is a great little video explaining things, it's from TheOatmeal.com http://theoatmeal.com/sopa.  It's short and gets the point across.

Sign a petition today.  Stop this joke from happening.  https://www.google.com/landing/takeaction/

Tying Up Loose Ends? Not For Me

Wasted time is a subject I tend to think about more often than I probably should.  Maybe as I get older, and days, hours and minutes become less expendable, the thought of pissing them away annoys me more.

Traffic, sitting in a doctor's office, being on hold...all time just gone...and you ain't gonna get it back. But there's one thing I refuse to waste any of those precious nanoseconds on...tying shoelaces.  I think I own two pair of shoes with laces, one of them is a pair of sneakers.  Haven't worn either of them in years.  The sneakers are now permanently tied, I can just slip my foot into them; but there's still the chance they might come undone...so they stay in the closet.

Most of the guys I know have an assortment of kicks, workboots and dress shoes...and they all need to be tied.  Life is way too short to spend time every day bending down to tie shoes.  And every time you come into the house, you need to untie them.  Seriously..NO.

When I'm about to check out of this life and I think back on the way I've lived and what I'm proud of...one of those things will be that I didn't burn up too much of my life clock playing with a string attached to a shoe.

Soon it will be time to walk the dog.  I'll slip into a pair of shoes or boots without laces and head out the door in five seconds flat.  But even though I can be happy about not squandering time tying my shoes, I soon start thinking about how much time I've wasted over the years picking up after the dog.

Oh crap.

Martin Luther King Jr.: Defining A Life

“If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way”...Martin Luther King Jr.


I was just a little kid growing up in the Northeast before the civil rights movement,  and yes there were racial lines and racial injustices...there still are.  But aside from interracial marriage which always seemed to have people take notice, whites and blacks living side by side did not cause a stir...for the most part.  I grew up across the street from four homes which had been owned by black families as far back as anyone could remember.  Us kids played ball together, told family secrets, but didn't really hang out or go to the movies together.  That was our normal.  It wasn't until I got to high school and someone said I lived on the black side of town that I even took notice that maybe it wasn't.  Apparently, my street was the only one in town where that many black homes could be found on one block.

My family was big on summer vacations, every year from the time I was around 7 or 8, the four of us got into our little red Corvair with no air conditioning and drove to Florida.  It was never a direct route.  We would get to the beach eventually, but first we would see some other equally great stuff.  From the horse farms in Kentucky (one of my personal faves) to Busch Stadium in St. Louis (that was for my dad) to New Orleans...the trips were filled with fun, swimming (had to have a motel with a pool) and some educational activities.  My brother and I loved it.  Those memories are still some of the best in my life.

But I remember the more ominous things as well.

“Only in the darkness can you see the stars.” ...MLK Jr.

I remember the signs on some of the restaurants in the deep south; "Whites Only".  Even as a child, it was something I could not comprehend.  I remember my mother calling a motel in Florida where we were to stay, to ask if was safe to come. We had heard about riots, and acid being poured into another motel swimming pool.  I remember feeling afraid as we passed the motel where it had occurred.  I tell this story to as many younger people as I can, just so they can understand that these things happened in my lifetime.  It really hasn't been so very long.

Never take for granted the rights that have been given to you. Others before you paid with their sweat and blood.  Others, including Martin Luther King Jr. have defined their lives by what they have given..so that others may live better.  How will you define yours?

To Tweet Or Not To Tweet

There's a part of me that totally detests social networking, there's another part of me that is fascinated by it.  I was dragged kicking & screaming into the blogosphere by the need for someone to write a couple of company blogs.  Somehow writing a lot of technical stuff on a regular basis caused my creative side to scream out "write something fun."   So it started...slowly at first, but more steadily as the mind became more disciplined.

I have now reached the edge of Twitter.  Those who know me personally can attest to my having a voice, although more often it's described as a big mouth.  Whatever, there are so many times I need to vent and 140 characters seems about right.  And, while spewing random thoughts is a constitutional right, there is also the business side of tweeting that is apparently, necessary.  Getting something published online is one thing...getting it out to the masses is another.

As I research how to be a good twit? No, that can't be right...twitterer, tweeter...who the hell knows, I am well aware that jumping into the twitter pool is inevitable.  Get ready for the splash.

Exploring A Bad Attitude: Oh, What The Hell.

Except for a five year hiatus, I have been a Jersey Girl my whole life.  While yes, the term "girl" may be a bit misleading, it still gives definition to the implied attitude.  I used to think that almost all women growing up in the "Garden State" were the same as me in terms of temperament, however lately I fear...maybe not so much.

It could be that age has induced a strange combination of either knowing too much or too little, losing the small amount of patience I once had, and no longer having the enjoyment I once did of playing along with idiots.  In any case, I now find myself on a regular basis, debating whether or not to totally dismiss people or shove my joyful disposition down someone's throat. I don't think that makes me a bad person.

It does however make me wonder, if the end of the world does not occur on December 21, 2012, how will the tone of my personality change in years to come?  Seriously, I don't see it getting better. 


I'll continue to explore the possibilities, but for now I take comfort in the fact that "Happy Hour" is now the politically correct "Attitude Adjustment Hour."  A cocktail to adjust my attitude...I love this country. Make mine a double.  Cheers.

No Snow? Who Really Gives A $#@&

And there you go.  Everyone has been bitchin' that there hasn't been any snow this winter...not counting the Halloween surprise.  Personally, I've come to enjoy not freezing my butt off in January...not to mention no shoveling of snow.  But here it is, Friday the 13th and it's snowing.

Sure I understand the economy as fragile as it is, needs cold weather states to be inundated with snow.  Me?  Not so much.  I quite enjoyed walking yesterday without my winter coat...now I gotta think about boots, a hat, a scraper and whether my car defroster is gonna work.

Just need to keep my eye on the big picture.  Yankees P's and C's report to spring training February 20th.

To hell with winter...baseball baby.

The Candidate Club: Oy

Until the media in this country stops digging out every bit of dirt on potential candidates and until the citizens of this country realize that WE ALL HAVE DIRT, there will be no man or woman with the balls & brains combination to actually make a difference in the direction of our country.  Why would anyone with the stuff needed to really lead, every put themselves through this crap.

My God, have you really listened to these people running for office?   I'll give you the adjective: idiot, moron, nut-case, clueless, deranged...you supply the candidate.  As Stealers Wheel once said..."Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right."

Is there any way out of here?

All Things Must Pass

Just ate the last Christmas cookie. Yes, I realize it is the 10th of January.  But they were so good and some types of cookies keep well for a long time.  Sadly, this was not one of those.  This one would have been best eaten in 2011. So the final tale of the Christmas cookie saga is now complete.

Is it time for baseball yet?

Rockin' it Out at the Roadhouse

"Going to the roadhouse, gonna have a real...good time."  Indeed.

The one good thing about being an insomniac, is when the dog vomits at 4 in the morning, you are usually awake to clean it up.

The day has got to get better.  And it will...there's live music in the air, and a night out with friends.  Nice.

Yeah, so I've changed the design.  It was time.

And the day started with such promise...

It wasn't nearly as cold today as yesterday, so walking the dog at 6:15 was the usual pain in the ass...no more, no less.  Like I've said before, I don't ask for much.  


Sat down at the computer, looking forward to a new post from James Woods, a blogger I've recently found.  Someone, who though it seems is a chunk of chronological years behind me, has enjoyed a lot of the same life experiences, and lived to tell about them.  Saw the new post was there, but decided to do a little real work (i.e. what pays the bills) first, as I can quickly be distracted.


First task completed, time for tea.  Wait for the water to boil on the stove...don't even get me going on microwaving the water.  While I'm waiting, that freakin' huge bag of pistachios (see yesterday's post) is giving me the hairy eyeball.   OPEN ME NOW.    ok.  Start pouring the freakin' huge bag into smaller jars...turn around to check the water..WTF?   Looks like only an inch of water in the glass teapot.  Then I see the puddle meandering around my kitchen.  crap.  As a glass half full kind of girl I think "well, the floor needed cleaning anyway."  


Clean up the water, start the water boiling in a pot...need to make a trip to BB&B for a new teapot, sit down read the post.  And yes, it was worth the wait.


Anticipation, distraction, annoyance, satisfaction...and it's not even 9 am.   Gotta know today might just be great.

A Day In The Life

"Now the years are rolling by me..they are rocking easily.  I am older than I once was...but younger than I'll be."  So writes Paul Simon in The Boxer.


Indeed, the years pass too quickly these days.  And even if you try, you can only go back so far.  Case in point:  Not long ago while looking in the mirror (never a good thing when you're over 50,40,30 (that's my story and I'm stickin' to it),  I said to myself  "You're getting old and getting fat.  While you can't do anything about the old thing, you can sure as shit do something about the fat thing."  So I did.  I am now thinner than I was over 20 years ago...but it's not the same.  Time and gravity have conspired to move parts of my body to new locales...mainly south of the border.  Ole.


Life isn't fair... it is what it is.  As I sit drinking my morning tea and eating a couple of still tasty Christmas cookies, I'm thinking of what this new day might hold.  Something life altering...probably not.  But I will meet my friend at the mall, where she will help me pick out new eyeglass frames.   Then, off to Costco where hopefully I will find an extremely large bag of pistachios with my name on it.  But during this uneventful day, we will laugh, bitch and talk about our normal lives.   Today will be a day that in 10 years neither of us will remember, but as we say goodbye, we will both smile...and be glad to have spent some time together.


I'm already older than I was when I started this post, but I'm still grateful for the day...I just wish it wasn't 13 degrees outside.  Do I really want to go out today?