11 posts tagged “michigan”
I'll post more later. I promise. I'll give a nice rundown of my family vacation to Michigan 2 weeks ago.
For a sum up though, let me just say it was WONDERFUL! I was so happy to be with my family who I hadn't seen in 2 years!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/metzdarling/sets/72157621527618100/
We also got to see a great air show and balloon launch at the Battle Creek Balloon Festival.
I apologize though, for the darkness and poor quality of some of the photos. I really need to get myself a new camera!
It's that time of year again, time to dust off those tornado sirens.
We (Americans) love our extreme videos. Extreme car chases, extreme girls going wild, extreme animals being their naturally wild selves, extreme uncomfortably close accidents, extreme watching guys get their tender spots crunched. Fun!
Ooops, left out the Extreme weather gone wild videos. That is one of my guilty pleasures. Thing is, I've got a huge phobia of storms. Even a mild thunderstorm can cause me to get agitated an nervous.
I am terrified of being caught anywhere near tornado. Yet I cannot stop watching these guys. I've been following them for a while on their website. http://www.tornadovideos.net/video-gallery before they were on Storm Chasers.
(note, this isn't one of their pictures)
I don't know, maybe I'm partial to them because one two of the guys is are from my home state of Michigan.
Anyway, thought I'd give them a shout out because they deserve it, as well as the other storm chasers out there. The ones out there for the thrill AND the educational aspect of it. The stuff they learn could save lives one day.
This is a true story:
Good Morning Three Rivers
Teresa? Hon? Wake up, you’re going to be late.” My Mom’s voice rose from the bottom of the stairs, creeping under my door and poking me into reluctant wakefulness.
I needed to be at work at our local grocery store by 7:00 am, and I had my whole routine planned out, get up at 6:30, out the door by 6:45. What I didn’t plan for though, was my Mom. Without even opening my eyes I knew I had at least a half an hour before my alarm was set to go off.
“Teresa! It’s 6:00 it’s time to get up!” Mom called a little more sharply than before.
I ignored her and burrowed deeper into my mound of blankets; I was just not ready yet to face once again that I was really back in Three Rivers, never mind that I’d been back for nearly three months now. Closing my eyes, I tried to bring back the dream I had been having just before Mom woke me, that I was still in San Diego.
Just as I was starting to drift off, I heard her again, “Teresa Lynn get up! You’ve got to get ready for work!”
Muttering to myself, “I know what time to get up, that’s what I have an alarm clock for!” I poked my head out of my blankets to peek at the clock, 6:13 am. “Why can’t she leave me alone for fifteen more minutes?” Time that I would have spent happily in dreams of California, and the friends I left there. Before even another minute had passed, Mom was knocking on my bedroom door.
“Teresa, you’ve really got to get up. There’s no reason for lying in bed like this, you have responsibilities.” She paused, waiting, I imagined, for some kind of response before saying, “If you didn’t stay up so late the night before you wouldn’t have so much trouble getting up in the morning.”
I didn’t say a word, sitting up as slowly as I could, trying to hold onto every last shred of warmth I could pry from my comforter and blankets. Finally I croaked, “I’m up Mom!”
“I just finished mopping the floors, so be careful you don’t slip. Oh, and if you could wait to put your shoes on by the door? Thanks.” After another meaningful pause she added, “Ok, since I know you’re up I can get ready for work now too.” Listening to her going down our creaking stairway, I looked at my clock, 6:20, and she’s already mopped the floors! While dressing, I looked around my childhood bedroom, and all it’s mementos, the beautiful roll top desk I’d gotten for my 16 th birthday, just as I’d asked for, exactly like Dad’s. The wall of bookshelves and cork bulletin board Dad built for my enormous book collection. A room I thought I’d only ever be in again as a guest. I was 24 years old and I felt like I was already a failure in life.
At 21 I had moved out from Three Rivers, eager to never look back, excited about my new life in San Diego. I was convinced that Three Rivers was not my destiny, that there was a real life out there for me in California. Things went well at first, my friend Matt and I got ourselves settled, adjusting to the quicker pace of city life rather quickly, but then I got myself into a financial bind, unable to make my car payments or my share of the rent. Things continued to deteriorate until finally I had to swallow my pride and ask Mom and Dad for help. They agreed, on the condition that I moved back “home”. So here I was, three years later, “home” and all alone, having left my friends behind.
I was happy in the balmy weather of Southern California, not minding the chillier, rainy days of late fall and winter. I had loved how everything turned green and bloomed in the winter there, so much better than the perpetual barren dreary gray landscape of winter in Michigan. No, I hadn’t missed winter in Michigan, or the snow that came with it at all. When I returned, I wasn’t even home a full day before my family was teasing me about coming back.
“We know you came back for the snow!”
“You’re in luck, this winter is supposed to be a doozy!”
“Now that you’re back, you can have a real Christmas this year, with snow!”
These were the recurring themes, the rest of the summer. Now it was near to the end of November, Thanksgiving was just around the corner and Christmas not far behind. I had settled back into my old life in Three Rivers, as if I had never left.
Sometimes that upset me even more than the fact that I had to return at all.
As the days grew colder I got more and more depressed, spending more and more time in my room, or just driving around, dwelling on what I missed about San Diego and looking at my return to Michigan as the ultimate failure.
Mom tried to encourage me to get involved in life in town again, but I resisted anything that might mean I was really back for good. I held onto the fantasy that I could get back on my feet and move back to California again. But I was scared, certain I’d fail once more. So I went through the monotony of day to day life, living in a sort of dream state where I didn’t really have to fully accept the fact that I wasn’t where I thought I belonged. Constantly dwelling on what I had lost and replaying my downfall over and over again, I was barely holding it together, and while not quite yet suicidal it was a thought that wasn’t all that far from my mind. Every day I felt more and more alone.
My Aunt my Grandma both suggested I go to church with them, assuring me that it would help me with my depression. I declined; there just wasn’t room in my life for anything but my misery. No one understood why I was so unhappy; didn’t they see that I’d given up everything to have to move back here?
Now with the holidays approaching it was sure to start again, ribbing from my family and co-workers about the cold and snow compared to warm Southern California. Work…I looked at the clock, “Great!” I yelped, it was 6:40, five minutes to finish getting ready. I bolted out of my room and down the stairs, almost colliding with my Mom who was coming out of her room.
“Don’t forget to put in for Thanksgiving off at work,” Mom smiled at me, “Grandma and Grandpa are expecting us for dinner.”
I snapped at her, “Mom! We’ve been through this before; I work at a grocery store! We’re open Thanksgiving Day, and since I’m low on seniority I’ll have to work!”
Mom flinched as if I’d slapped her, “Oh, well, it’s just that everyone is looking forward to having you there for your first holiday since you got home.”
I started to brush past her, but hesitated when I noticed that she looked really upset.
I sighed, so much for avoiding the ‘family fun’.
“I’ll see what I can do Mom, I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll try to get the early shift so that I can meet up with you guys in Allegan after work.”
“Teresa that would be wonderful, you know we’ve all missed you these last few years. Christmas and the other holidays just haven’t been the same without you there.”
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes I said, “Yeah Mom, I’ve got to go.” After putting on my shoes I glanced at the clock as I headed to the back door, 6:46, I could just make it!
“Teresa wait!” Mom called running into the kitchen, “Your Dad left his snow brush for you. Since the news said it might snow today! Isn’t that great? Your first snowsince you got home!” She thrust the brush and a pair of gloves at me. “And take my gloves, you’ll need them. Now go, you’re going to be late!”
I didn’t want these things. I didn’t want anything to do with the coming snow, yet another reminder I was no longer where I belonged, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I mumbled something resembling a thank you, and walked out the door. As I rounded the house I thought, “What is wrong with me? What am I going to do? I fail at every thing I do, I’m all alone and I hate it here!” The frustration and depression was mounting and I felt like I was dying inside.
More than anything I just wanted to be gone from here, “Look at this place!” I said to myself as I trudged down the drive, “The most exciting thing to happen around here is the first snow? Give me a break!”
About halfway to my car I spotted a small ice puddle in one of the tire ruts. I didn’t have the time, but something made me stop. I stood there staring at the little puddle with it’s glazing of ice. I could remember my brother Lenny and I racing from puddle to puddle on our way to school in the mornings, each vying for the privilege of being the first to jump or slide on the ice. We loved jump onto the ice puddles with both feet breaking the ice into tiny fragments and using the larger pieces like prisms to catch the winter sun.
I looked around; there was no one in sight. The window of time before I was late was quickly closing, but still I hesitated.
“Jump Teresa!” I could almost hear my brother urging me on. I jumped, feet together right into the center.
Splash! Frigid soapy water splashed all up the front of me, soaking my shoes and pant legs, leaving splotches all over.
Forgetting that she usually dumped it in the driveway, I’d jumped into the puddle of Mom’s mop water. The soapy film on the surface was what had fooled me into thinking it was ice. Shock overrode all of my anger and frustration and the past few months spontaneously began replaying themselves in my mind, only this time instead of seeing my failures I focused on my parents and all the things they had done for me. Quietly being there whenever I needed them, even when I didn’t care or appreciate it, just showing me their love in all the little things they did. I looked down at the objects in my hand, little things like giving me their snowbrushes and gloves.
A feeling of peace, like I’d only ever read about, settled itself about me like a warm blanket.
I knew I had to go inside and change, but something cold and icy landing on my nose held me there a moment longer, then another one on my cheek, and another... I looked up into a sky beginning to fill with fat white snowflakes. Mesmerized, I watched the snow fall silently from the sky. Impulsively I caught a snowflake on my tongue and laughed, feeling as clear and pure as the crisp, lovely November morning. Message received.
Mom was right; I was going to be late.
The End
Through a slip of the tongue, loosened no doubt by my virtual Tom Collins I had over at pyrits favorite bar & grill I seem to have let it be known that I am indeed one of those seemingly rare birds who met their SO (gasp) Online!
Just about 11 years ago my parents purchased a home computer. I was 26 and living on my own nearby. I worked nights. They worked days. Once Mom got internet access I couldn't resist checking out this "new phenomenon" I'd been hearing so much about. I would get up a couple of hours earlier than I needed to just to go over and play on their computer. :-P
I probably spent a week or so doing internet searches on all of my favorite topics, (don't laugh now): The Monkees, Star Trek The Next Generation, Sting, (snickering at self) MacGyver, Highlander the movies & tv series, Jameson Parker (I SAID don't laugh), Anne Rice... etc...
After a while I noticed that this one particular site kept coming up on almost all of my searches.
It was a chat room site, that at first I was very afraid to click on the link, hey, even 11 years ago the rumors of bad things happening in/because of chat rooms were already circulating.
WBS: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/WebChat_Broadcasting_System
http://web.archive.org/web/19961230020729/http://www.wbs.net/ (This is a archive screen shot of what the original site looked like it is no longer an active site.)
Anyway, I finally mustered up the courage to enter the site, created a screen persona of myself, using the moniker Ivylynn (just liked the name and Metz was already taken).
I popped in and out of chatrooms looking for a place that wasn't overrun with sex talk and way over my head RP talk. NOT dissing the RP world, UH-UH! I admired them very much, just didn't know how to join in.
Finally started hanging out regularly in the 20 Something room.
I didn't talk much at first, got lots of unwanted PMs that I promptly put on ignore. Then I started chit-chatting with a few other regulars who were usually on at about the same time as me.
Much like the community here, I became friends with them, sharing silly talk, inside jokes, and generally benign and anonymous flirting with the few who were obviously (so we all like to think) guys.
I got to be good friends with this group, and to this day am sad that I lost touch with so many of them when WBS abruptly closed without warning.
Tregbot was one of the good friends. When after about a month of chit-chatting every day he asked if he could email me. I said sure. Hey, I had a free Hotmail account, I wasn't worried, if he was trouble I could change it easily enough.
So we emailed back and forth for a while as well as continuing the live chat. Then he asked if he could call me sometime. Now by this time I knew he was in NY and I was in Michigan. In fact, I'm embarrased to admit this, when he said he lived on Long Island I thought, that's a funny way of saying what town you live in. I thought Long Island was a town/city, I know now there is a Long Island City, but I thought it was just a name, not actually an Island.
Anyhoo, I was nervous when he asked me if he could call me.
I mean, email was one thing, but to give him my phone #? So I gave him my work #. (I worked 3rd shift as a Night Auditor at a local hotel, only person on duty, phones all to myself.)
He called me that night and we talked for 2 1/2 hours. (Hey it was a small town, not a very busy hotel) :-)
We talked about our families, friends, etc... Found out we were both friends with someone named Doug (different Dougs) who was our "Best friend" growing up, AND we shared our birthdays with each of our friends named Doug. How uncanny is that|?
This went on for a while and he says, I want to send you my picture.
I said, ok. I feel like I'm a pretty good judge of character, I felt safe enough by this time.
So I gave him my parent's address. Hey wasn't COMPLETELY DUMB. ;-)
The next day a dozen roses were delivered to my parents house for me.
WOW.
A few days later a package arrived for me, cute lil stuffed animal and a picture of a handsome young man.
Only one problem. It was quite obviously a high school senior photo.
SCREECH! The mental breaks went on a wee bit too late. AAAAA! What have I done? A high schooler?
I did some checking of my memory files and recalled nothing said specifically about age. I kept telling myself, we met in the 20 something room, I mean I knew that the older folk sometimes trolled for easy pickings there but for the most part my friends in that room were all upfront that they were in the correct age range.
I knew he had never said exactly how old he was but I could've sworn he'd said at least one time that he WAS 20 something.
I waited for his call at work that night. He barely said hello before I pounced, "HOW OLD ARE YOU!!!!!!>???????"
Silence on the line, OH CARP! This is not good.
"I'm 20." He said in a sheepish voice.
TWENTY???!!!! Oh CARP CARP CARP! I was relieved he wasn't underage but still, 20! I was 26 remember. This was a big deal. I mean a few years ok but 6 years!??? 6 years and 8 days younger than me to be exact.
So after a while of fretting on the phone, being talked out of my panic by him I calmed down and accepted the fact that I had indeed fallen for someone 6 years my junior AND who lived across the country on the East Coast.
(Inside I was cringing still cuz I was certian that once my Mom found out that would be the end of my afternoon visits with the computer).
Right about that time there was a lot going on with my family. One of my Aunts had been diagnosed with terminal cancer throughout her body. She and her husband moved in with my Grandma Easy so she could help to take care of her, the day they moved in Emil, Aunt Wanda's husband had a massive heart attack and died instantly.
Then I found out that my brother's girlfriend whom he had started seeing during his divorce proceedings was pregnant with my soon to be 2nd neice KC.
Ooooookay!
Tregbot/Rob started asking me to come to NY. Any other time I would have, but I just couldn't leave my family then.
So he said, Ok I'll come to you.
And he did. He quit his job, packed up his car a 1988 T-Bird
and his dog an unknown vintage spitz-like mutt named Spaz and drove for 12 hours straight with only minor necessary stops to Michigan.
He arrived on March 7th, 1997. I met him at my parent's house. Still not totally insane.
With my Grandma Easy, Aunt Wanda, and Aunt Charllott peeking out of Grandma's windows at Teresa's "man".
(forgot to mention, Grandma Easy lived right next door)
What could be safer right?
Our first meal together was a Pizza Hut Meat Lovers Pan Pizza
with CheeseBread Sticks.
By April 1st we were in NY. Somehow it just seemed right.
9 Months later Gabby was born. (blushes) Yes, I know, I did it wrong, but here's a MAJOR confession you can take to the bank. I was a 26 yr old virgin. Seriously. Rob was/is my 1st and only. Evah. I told ya I was a rare bird. ;-)
Happy now Pyrit?
:-)
Well I don't know about you guys but I had a busy weekend. When my mother in law is not at a craft fair on the weekends I find that suddenly there's a lot more to do.
Anyway, to end the weekend on a bright note I got an email from my Mom with some yummy new pics of Butterscotch. So refreshing after two hot & humid days.
So sweet.
Plus a cutie one of my Dad taking a cat nap with her. :-)
Enjoy.
Metz
Gosh I hate that word, only because it looks like a not so great word and it really doesn't quantify what I feel about my Mom.
Breast Cancer,
lumpectomy,
radiation,
chemotherapy...
losing her hair, getting sick, through it all she has maintained such a positive upbeat attitude. Shoot, she even kept her sense of humor.
The hardest thing for me has been being so far away from her.
BUT we've all made it through. She's been keeping secrets from me too.
:-) Good ones though. First she tells me she's gonna be in a magazine article about the treatment center in our hometown hospital. Cool. Then she tells me that her face is gonna be on a billboard on the main highway again for the hospital. Cooooooool! (still waiting for pictures of that)
Then I get this in my email one day without a word of warning. I tell you I started bawling when I saw it.
I am so proud of her. She's a very private person, and she was feeling pretty sad about losing her hair and feeling so sick during the worst of it. (She thought she had that part hidden from me but I could tell in her voice.)
But despite that, in the hopes of helping other people to seek care at the hopsital's treatment center she agreed to do a television commercial for them. She told me later after I saw it that she hated how she looked that she felt that the hat looked funny and with that, the short hair, the suit and the swelling she looked like a man. I told her the truth. I thought she was never more beautiful.
My mom.
Just so you know, it has been a little more than exactly one year since she was diagnosed, operated on, and given the radiation & chemo (finished in March). So far she's gotten a clean bill of health and is of course doing all the proper follow up care.
If you want to view the video for now I have it on my Ringo photo album and have made it public. I'm trying to figure out how to re-download it to my computer (I had a crash a while back so lost the version on my hard drive thankfully I had loaded it to Ringo.)
http://www.ringo.com/videos/videos.html?videoId=213554726
Ok here's the 2nd story I promised you. Again I'm leaving it exactly as it originally was, no grammatical or style corrections. This story is first person all the way and takes place entirely inside my head. and no it' s not a horror story as scary as that place is...
enjoy.
POINT OF VIEW:
2-12-05 Ok. I’ve got a canvas, paintbrushes, a palette, um what’s next? Paint? Oh ok, I’ve got Red, Blue, and Yellow. What? Oh and White and Black. Now. What to paint, what to paint, what to paint? Oh, I can’t do this! I’m not creative! Look at me! A supposed grown up and I still draw stick figure people! No, I feel silly. Look at that blank, White canvas; if I just "throw some paint on" I’ll ruin it! I can’t do that! Look at this stuff, it’s beautiful, thought provoking, heck, it’s just plain good. No effort there, just some lines, some Colors, it all does what it’s supposed to do. Not me, not mine. My throat hurts. I am not going to cry, I hate it. Look at this glob here, what the heck is that? It’s supposed to be the Color of the evening sky, Midnight Blue? Cerulean? Blue Violet? What the heck happened? I took some Blue, took some Black to darken it…not supposed to do that? Well, now what? I’ve ruined it. Just like I said I would. Ok, don’t give up, work with it make it something else. What else is there? Some Red? No, now it’s really an ugly shade of Purple, ugh, like a big ugly bruise. No, worse, like a scab. Ick. Ick. Ick. I cannot do this! What is this mess now? Oh hell, if I can’t take the plunge, then why am I here? Ok, lets work with this Color. First, some Blue off to the side just a dab, by its self. Now a group, a circle of people, no real figures, just some suggestions of bodies, little slashes of Blue. Just plain Blue, nothing mysterious about that Color. Ok, now let it dry a bit. I can do this, now, cover the whole group over with that ugly Scab of a Color. Ok, just let the little slashes of Blue peek through. There you are. Wow that’s pretty neat looking actually. Now, Texture. Depth. Work within the medium, hmmm. Yeah, it is a very emotional Painting isn’t it? I don’t even know where that came from. This was fun. I definitely have to do it again.
Ok gonna share somethings I found in my documents folder on an old computer. A couple of stories I wrote for a creative writing workshop at the library a couple of years ago.
Two things, 1) It is semi-true/semi-fictionalized. Memoir-ish but not to the extent like that infamous guy a couple of years ago with his trumped up memoir.
Mine are just some humorous ancectodal stuff from when my friends Matt & Dennis got me to join the "dark side".
:-)
Here's #1 I'll post the second later in a separate post. Oh and this is #2) just for fun's sake I'm not editing this, just copied & pasted from the original file. I know there's tons of writing style errors and such but I kind of like to keep it the original way (the way I submitted it at the writing class) to see how much I've grown (or not) as a writer in the past couple of years.
THREE IN THREE RIVERS
There were three of us. Best friends? Now that was a term we stayed far away from. That was too cliché, too silly, childish. We were sophisticated 20 somethings, we were stylish, above the mundane world of Three Rivers, Michigan. We were Friends before the TV Friends were even Friends. We were Best Friends (just don’t ask me to say that out loud in front of the others). But first there were two. Dennis and Matt.
Eldest was Dennis, just one year older but already so worldly, he’d even Been To Another Country, not just any country either, the mysterious magnefique world of France, Paris. Dennis always stood out in a crowd, not just because he towered over literally everyone, but also because he was always on the cutting edge of fashion, verbiage, and music. And by cutting edge I do mean cutting edge, so far out there that the trendsetters of Michigan were at least 2 years behind him, both in style and in disdain.
His verbal skill of slicing to ribbons without any effort the unwary soul who dared to try insult him was beyond amusing, it was, ok it was hysterical, but educational. Try as I might when I first met Dennis I didn’t really know how to tell his sarcasm from his truth. I used to joke that I needed a Sarcasm Interpreter. Dennis really saw things as they were and told people so, he could actually do so in such a way that the receiver never really knew they’d been mortally wounded, verbally at least. He’s one of those people who you’ve seen characterized in movies, comics, etc where they are the nimble hero using their words to stop a dumb ____(fill in the blank), while they’re busy trying to figure out what those words mean he’s going on his merry way, and by the time they figure it out…… "Hey!" He’s long gone and laughing at his own cleverness. You can’t help but laugh along with him. No malice, no anger, just a pure enjoyment out of life. And if people have a problem with that, well that’s their problem, he’s got things to do and can’t worry about whether or not they like the way he is.
Matt, now he was another story. Perpetually dark, the long thin morose soul who was always wondering why people were so bad to one another. Wintertime blues were just about his year round mood. His music of choice was so dark sounding, depressing, lots of instrumental with voices lamenting in the background. In fact one of his favorites to listen to when he was feeling especially moody was something that you might hear as imaginary background music to the mystery or horror book you’re reading late at night during a thunderstorm. Lots of moaning, groaning, wailing, funereal music, real funereal music, not the piped in airy inspirational uplifting music you hear at funerals today.
No, Matt was different. He dressed the part too, usually clothing of choice was black, stylish black but black nonetheless. And like Dennis far ahead of the rest of Three Rivers as far as style goes. Of course he had Dennis to thank for that. When Matt chose black Dennis chose bright, when Dennis chose his music from the upbeat get up and dance style (Imported CD’s by unknown European Artists of course), Matt chose the sounds of gothic industrial (again, Unknown Artists). Where Matt’s response to a situation might have been "Why bother?" Dennis’s response was "Why Not?" Dennis liked to say that he rescued Matt; "Matt was a fashion victim begging for help," he’d say. "When I got to him it was almost too late, he was wearing PLAID! And listening to pop music!" But Dennis brought Matt over to "the other side" of fashion, and music. He actually showed him that he could still be his moody dark self, but look good while he was doing it. That is to say that Matt wasn’t occasionally joyful, he is the only person I know who can be "blue" and happy at the same time. His laugh was just about as infectious as Dennis’s. Perhaps with Dennis’s influence but also just because of his own character, Matt began to say to the world, "This is how I dress, this is how I talk, this is what I like to do and well if you don’t like it, I won’t apologize." Yes, Matt started having fun, FUN, can you believe it? In Three Rivers, fun was a mysterious and elusive thing. But together, Matt and Dennis found that they could have fun. Listening to music, writing, they started a poetry "magazine", painting on cardboard canvases in Dennis’s basement, photography, discussing Ayn Rand and other pioneering authors.
Then it happened, Dennis was going away to college. Matt was beside himself, he wasn’t ready to be alone in Three Rivers for a year before he himself went off to college, what was he going to do? Dennis suggested, me. Matt laughed, "Teresa? What are you thinking? She’s not like us. She’s like them. She even has a "crush" on me. The last thing I want to do is to encourage it!" "Teresa." Dennis said, "She’s the one trust me." Matt stopped laughing, "She listens to Country Music for Pete’s sake! She wears flowers on her clothes, big ugly fake bright pink flowers, she reads Romance novels, I’ve seen her at the library, ROMANCE NOVELS! You know, the bodice rippers. She has housewife written all over her. Trailer park, dirty kids, cashier in the grocery store, hair in rollers. Housewife. Trust you?" Matt was serious now; "We are talking about someone to hang out with, to talk about great books with, someone to go to the art films with, someone to help me bear another year in this place. And you suggest Teresa?"
Dennis just smiled and picked up the phone. "Teresa, hi it’s Dennis, want to go out to the woods and play with a ouija board with me and Matt?" Yes, he really asked me that way. He figured it would be the best way to show Matt my "potential" as a human being.
Now here’s me. I’m on the other end of the line saying to myself "ouija board?" but he said the magic word or rather name, Matt was right I did have a crush on him at the time. So I was in a major dilemma, I didn’t really know about this "ouija board" thing, but I would be supremely stupid to turn down a chance to hang out with Matt. Plus I thought Dennis was the coolest thing around, I loved the fact that he could wear whatever he wanted to and no one gave him a hard time. Me, I was stuck with my Kmart blue light specials until I could somehow find a store that sold stuff in my size that didn’t have bright pink flowers all over them. Not much to choose from in Three Rivers you know.
So I agreed to meet with them. Not in the woods though, I was really not sure about this ouija board thing, not something I felt comfortable with. So I brought along a secret weapon, and asked Dennis to drive to the Big Boy so we could all talk. Sitting in Big Boy waiting for our orders. I felt for all the world like a specimen on display, Dennis & Matt were sitting across from me and it took all my guts to do this but I pulled out of my pocket book my Bible. "Now, I am not zealous in my beliefs but I do have some that I cannot ignore" I told them. Dennis and Matt just about lost it, here we were in a crowded restaurant and I pull out a Bible. They stared at me, at each other, at the Bible, while I talked and showed them passages about using devices to contact the spirits. I basically told them that because of what I had been taught at church and what is in the Bible I do not feel comfortable doing things with a ouija board and I hoped that they would think about what I said before they continued doing so themselves. I said I wouldn’t do it, but I appreciated them asking me and was glad we had a chance to get together. Then the food came, I put my Bible away. No one said too much for a while, we ate and made some stilted small talk, I was feeling like I had totally blown it, that they were going to dump me off back at my house (oh yay), and go as fast as their legs could carry them far away from me and my beliefs. Then Dennis said that we really weren’t going to play with a ouija board, that he just said that to get me curious, to come hang out with them. He figured that I wouldn’t want to hang out with them because "Well we don’t exactly travel in the same social circles." "You mean my non-existent social circle?" I said, "I go to work, I go home. That is my life. My Mom, my Dad, my Brother, and me. Sometimes we go to Allegan to visit the grandparents and all that, but nope this is my life."
"What do you like to do?" They asked me. "I read. A lot. I write poetry. I like to make up stories, but don’t really have the stick-to-it-ness needed to get them written down. I go to the library, I ask for books they don’t carry and they look at me like I’m some kind of nut, ‘What do you want a book like THAT for?’ Like I’m asking for a book on how to conduct a satanic ritual! I just want to learn things you know? So I end up reading the trash they have around the library, you know, the bodice rippers, heck it’s something. It sounds cheesy but the sex crap is really starting to get on my nerves, I actually skip that part and focus on the historical aspect of it. It’s not much but it gets me by. What about you guys, what do you like to do?"
Silence. Dennis looks at Matt, Matt looks at Dennis. They grin. Yes, they grin. As clichéd as it sounds, they grinned, it was just too perfect. How did Dennis know? He just did. He knew me, he knew Matt, and he knew everything would be just fine. If they could just help me find a store that carried decent plus sized clothes, and get rid of that country music, all would be right with the world. They did, and it was. What happens next is a whole ‘nother story though to be told another day.
Metz
Trying to get my mind off of things by going through some old files. I'm feeling kind of down tonight as I just found out that due to circumstances beyond their control my parents are not going to be coming next week as planned. I so want to start crying right now but really feel kind of numb yet, I don't think the shock has worn off. Pretty pathetic huh? A 36 yr old woman wanting her Mommy so bad she's about to cry cause Mommy can't visit.
Everything is ok in case anyone gets worried, it's just that my Dad got offered a promotion at his job that if he didn't take it then it would be a VERY long time before he'd be offered another. So he said yes, but apparently there was a woman who wanted that position and when she found out my father was offered the job she quit without notice. Leaving them shorthanded and him unable to take the time off to come to NY. While I understand, it totally sucks major ROCKS! (want to swear VERY much here but am trying to keep it clean) as I haven't seen them in over a year and my kids haven't seen them in over 2 years! My son doesn't even really know them for pitys sake. He was pretty much still a "baby/toddler" when last he saw them. Good thing I had decided not to tell them that their grandparents were coming. I had wanted it to be a surprise. Surprise! That's another reason why I'm not crying yet, can't explain it to them and my kids ALWAYS find and notice me when I'm crying no matter how (or where) I try to hide. Can't explain it because there is a SLIGHT chance they'll be able to come in August during my birthday. Crossing my fingers but not holding my breath. Does that make any sense?
Ever since I moved here I have felt so isolated and cut off. Family is very important to me and it has been so hard having to go for so long in between seeing them. Even harder is the fact that my husband's family is not the nicest family. They almost all hate each other and there's constantly some skirmish going on over the stupidest things. Coming from a boisterous, large, very open and affectionate family it has been a difficult adjustment for me.
My family is the type that even if there's a divorce in the family the ex regardless of blood related or not is still always welcome at anyone's house and at all family gatherings, and they come, even bringing new spouses, etc... My husband's family is more concerned with who is winning in the latest battle, usually gagued by whomever has the patriarch and matriarch (my husband's grandparents) on their side.
No I'm not bitter am I?
I just miss my Mom. My Dad, my neices, my brother, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, EVERYBODY!
Last year they were supposed to visit during my birthday week but then my Mom got diagnosed with breast cancer and had to go through Chemo & Radiation. So she couldn't come. I went to her, on a quick weekend trip the same week she had her lumpectomy. Takes minimum 12 hours straight driving to get from where I am on Long Island to Michigan. I drove there and got there Friday afternoon. Left to go back home Sunday. Not nearly enough time, just a smidgen of a taste of family time.
We were supposed to go there this August but financial situations as they are we couldn't. So they were going to come to us, all scheduled for next week. Had my vacation time scheduled at work and everything. My mother in law even changed her vacation time to a different week so she wouldn't intrude on my parents time with the grandkids. Fortunatly we both have good employers who are flexible about scheduling our vacation time. I will continue to hope that they will be able to make it in August, but it's hard not to be pessimistic at this point you know?
YAY!!! Mom finally posted pics of her kitty for me to steal!
Some are a bit outta focus, man I wish I lived closer I'd be taking like a million shots of this little beauty.
Something to hold us over until the crisis is over in the cat cave (positive vibes to Theo & Jaye!)
Enjoy.
Metz
Edit: I can't seem to get photos # 3 & # 4 to show up for some reason but they are viewable in my vox photo album.
Too bad since they're tres cute!
Anyway, sorry for the mishmash still learning how to do this whole thing.
Metz
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