Mowing adventures...

I love to mow the lawn.  Okay, there I said it.  When we lived in Texas we had a normal house in a normal neighborhood.  I could mow, trim, and edge the front and back yard in  1.5 hours.  Mowing is very therapeutic for me.  I just go into pure thinking mode and start mowing.  It is so monotonous that after an hour and a half of walking back and forth, I feel as though I have had a wonderful break from the busyness of life.  I love to stand back and look when I have completed my task.  I love the lines in the freshly cut grass.  I love the smell of crisp wetness.  I love the grass that sticks to my ankles and shoes...they are a sign of hard work.  I love the sweat that rolls down my back between my shoulder blades.  Building up a sweat makes me feel like I have actually done something worth a pat on the back.  The beautiful lines that the yard now has...they are straight.  The curb is cut at a perfect right angle.  There is no trace of leftover grass after I have blown it all away.  To me, a freshly cut yard is an elegant thing.  It is an art form.  Not everyone has the talent to make something so disheveled look so alluring.       

Yesterday, for the first time, I took the challenge of mowing our new yard.  After the first 1.5 hours, it started to lose its therapeutic affect on me, and I was only halfway done with the back yard!  Let me explain why:  

Here is my backyard from a far angle.  See how big it is?  This picture doesn’t do justice.  So in the immediate area surrounding the patio, is beautiful grass.  See here:

Surrounding the outside of our beautiful grass is grass that is tousled and scruffy.  It is sporadic, and has dirt patches through it.  See here:  

Mowing this area is...well lets just say it is about as fun as cleaning out a dog’s ears.  There are so many of these dry patches that sit in the shade.  It is hard to see if I have even mowed them...this is partly because after one pass through dirt flies up in the air and I can’t see anything ahead of me.  So here I am, at a crossroads (like how I dramatize that?).  Do I mow this mess, or do I leave it be?  You really can’t see from the patio if this area has been mowed.  I know the Chief wouldn’t bother with it.  Should I?  So after choosing the high road, I began my decent into the wonderful world of 89% dirt and 11% grass.  After 20 minutes of that exciting amusement, I decided that I would stop mowing the dirt and come back to it later if I wanted to.  So I go back to the challenge of mowing the part of the yard that has grass in it....ahhh....back to relaxation.  

After the back yard I move to the front, and come across a brand new challenge.  Here is our front yard:

Here is my challenge:

Rocks.  Do I mow over them?  I have never come across this dilemma before.  In Texas there were no rocks.  Here, in Connecticut, we live on top of one big freaking rock.  Examples of the amount of rocks we have.  The obvious rock in the middle of our back yard:  

Here our rock wall in our back yard (we have one in the front too):  

Here is just two random rocks in the middle of our soft, luscious grass.  

Okay so we have as many rocks, as Angelina has kids.  There is no escaping them.  It is almost as if the rocks and trees have a war, to see who can be in more abundance.  I think the rocks would win.  And just because the previous owners didn’t think they had enough, they had more brought in!  These stupid little white ones. 

Back to my challenge.  Do I run the mower over these pesky little rocks?  Are they going to fly out from under the mower and implant in the side of my leg?  Is the mower going to appreciate this, or is it going to grown and cry?  I decided that if I broke the mower, that might be a good thing because we would just decide to buy a riding lawn mower next time.  So here goes, I held my breath and I ran the mower over them making sure to get all the random tall pieces of grass.  Nothing happened.  The mower didn’t shoot out little rock pellets.  It didn’t even make a peep.  Damn!  I would now how to figure out another way to get a riding lawn mower.  After 2.5 hours of mowing, I was tired, dirty, and itchy.  I now know that the peace I love to get from mowing is only good for the first 1.5 hours.  After that, it is just plain ugliness.       

Using Facebook

11 Things Facebook should NOT be used for

ELEVEN: Kid announcement when you already have more than 4. 

Okay, 36 + 8 and counting....we don’t care that you are in kid number 45.  I lost track after kid six.  What I do care about, however, is birth control.  Ever heard of it?  No one needs more than three kids at the most!   

TEN: Telling others your heading to the bathroom.  

We don’t care what you do on your porcelain throne.

NINE: Showing pictures of your drunk night at the bar.  

I know sloppy drunk men think your breasts are big and beautiful, but those of us that are sober, don’t want to see them.  Thanks in advance for the nightmares I will have for the next two weeks.

EIGHT: Poking your friends.  

So many things about this are wrong on so many levels.  

SEVEN: Venting about so-called friends.  Example of someone’s post: Love when girls are nice to my face but then turn around and talk shit about me to girls they talk shit on..seriously? Grow up! If u don't like me no need to pretend cuz I honestly don't give a shit!

My comment: I have to say, I too, talk behind your back.  

SIX: Checking in...EVERYWHERE.  

Okay, so I have used this a couple of times (when I was in NYC)...but to check in everywhere you go?  Are you TRYING to help the government out?  Why the hell do I care that you just went from home, to Walgreens, to the McDonalds on Preston, then to the mall, dry cleaners, bank, OMG, need I go further?  Please make those that are stuck at work jealous that they can’t run errands all day like you.    

FIVE: Games.  

It’s cool to play the games (I personally have yet to play one), but to post that you are playing them?  Do you really WANT everyone to know that you have no life?  This is freaking hilarious when I see this and people are supposed to be working.  So smart. 

FOUR: Posting your every tragedy.  

Are you wanting people to feel sorry for you?  Please give me the rope and the fan, I will teach you how to make it all go away.

THREE: Single/In Relationship status.  

This really becomes old when it changes every two days.  And posting: we have decided to go our separate ways... loses all validity when you are back “in relationship” with that person 4 minutes later.  

TWO: Posting song lyrics, or quoting someone famous without giving them credit.

Do you really think people think you are just that poetic with your words?  Give credit where it is due people! (You can probably add this to my list of pet peeves).  

ONE: Trying to convince others (and probably yourself) that Obama is the greatest thing that ever happened to this country.

Okay, welcome to truth: Although he took credit, he was on the 7th hole, with a cigarette in one hand and golf club in the other when Osama was killed.  Keep trying to convince us, we will eventually come to our senses and see the light.  November 6th, 2012.

Winning, losing, yes, no...blah

Winning: Is it everything?  Yes!  If you don’t win, you lose.  If you aren’t in first place, you might as well be in last.  I hate losing.  I hate being in last place.  If there is a line, you better believe I am at the front of it.  If I come up on the end of a line, you can bet money, I will somehow make my way to the front of it before the wait is over.  

As a child I was never really in sports.  I was never at the top of my class.  I am not sure where this competitiveness came from, but I do know it has developed in me as an adult.  I am always in a hurry.  Walking in NYC with the brunette BFF, she said, “SLOW DOWN!!”  I practically run everywhere.  I don’t lollygag.  Everywhere I go, I am on a mission.  I can get a list of groceries two pages long, in 8 minutes flat.  I can load my car in 38 seconds.  I can’t stand slow people.  It drives me crazy.  I want to push people to move forward.  I figure, we don’t really have a lot of time on earth, why spend it walking slow?  Why spend it getting ready to go somewhere?  If you tell me you want to go somewhere special and to get ready, do you know how fast I can get ready?  Shower (including hair wash): 6 minutes.  Blow dry and fixing hair: 9 minutes.  Getting dressed: 3 minutes.  Putting makeup on: 39 seconds.  Total: 18 minutes and 39 seconds.  What woman can do that?  Do you know how much time the average woman takes to get ready to go out?  55 minutes.  That is almost 7 hours a week!  Think of all the things you could do in 7 hours!  That is almost an extra days worth of work!

I think it is important to be organized so that everything goes smoothly.  If you are all over the place and unorganized, do you know how much time is wasted?  When I have errands to run, I run them in order starting furthest from the house.  All this going back and forth nonsense is silly!  Get it done, and get home.  

To me, winning coincides with always being first.  Maybe the reason I don’t play sports is because I am not a natural, and I know I can’t win.  And to me, if I can’t win, I won’t bother.  Games on the other hand, I love to play.  

One evening we were with the Chiefs BFF and her family.  We decided to play Uno.  There were us four adults, and four kids, Little Man being one of them.  He played a card and then tried taking it back, and I said, “Ummm no, a card laid is a card played.”  They all looked at me like I had stolen a starved child’s lollypop.  

“He is just a kid, it’s okay Little Man, pick it up.”  

“Don’t even think about touching that card.”  You played it, it stays.  They all looked at me shockingly.  I am a serious game player.  I don’t care if you are 8.  I won’t sit back and let ANYONE win because they are at a disadvantage.  You chose to play, you are in for a treat.  Now that I think about it, we never played any other games at their house.  Hmmm....

I am also a very sore loser.  If I lose, I throw a minor fit.  Probably the reason we haven’t been asked back to the neighbors house for a game night.  

Sometimes I wonder why I have this inner need to win so badly.  Why do I always want to be first?  Why in college do I get torn up over one B when I got six A’s?  Why does it kill me that the two boys on my sales team beat me each month, regardless of the fact I only work part time and they work full time?  Do I feel this way because I was determined to be independent?  When I was 18 I became pregnant with the Little Man.  I was insistent that I would have a natural birth, no drugs.  I was 18 years old, just a child myself.  Everyone told me, you won’t be able to do it.  Everyone says that, and ends up getting the drugs.  It was that alone that pushed me forward through those throbbing contractions.  With each agonizing one, I heard the voices of those people saying I couldn’t do it.  I was in labor for 46 hours.  My Little Man was stuck in the birth canal for so long that his head came out with a slight point to it.  I never wavered.  I gave birth without the pain killers.  

After getting divorced, the Little Man was two.  Did I run back home and move in with mom and dad?  No, I got my own apartment and supported myself and my son on my one measly income.  This isn’t to say I haven’t had help in life, because years later, my blond BFF moved across the country to help my wore out body.  I had pushed so hard for so long, that I was ready to give up.  I think this made me all the more stronger.  

I just finished this book, Go for No!  Yes is the Destination, No is How You Get There by Richard Fenton and Andrea Waltz.  What an excellent book!  I am currently in sales (very temporary), and this book was a real eye-opener.  The theory behind it is: Go for No!  Lets take a telemarketer for an example.  They get you on the phone and begin their shpeel and continue long after you have hung up.  Think, if they make 100 calls a day and do this routine, they may get 4 people to agree and sign up for their services.  What if they took a different approach?  What if instead of immediately going into their sales pitch, they just asked: “Are you interested in a new phone service?”  If the response is no, they are able to quickly move onto the next caller.  They would save time, and get in twice the amount of phone calls.  So instead of making four deals, they would make 8.  This is a great theory right?  Let me tell you how hard this is for someone like me!  I hate hearing no.  No=fail to me.  They teach you in this book, that if you learn to take no quickly and move on, your yes will come faster.  Take “no” with stride.  Failure leads to success.  In the book, he explains that they give out an award for the most “No’s” and for “the most deals closed.”  The award typically goes to the same person.  Did you read that right?  The person that closes the most deals, is also the one that gets the most “No’s!”  

When kids are young, we teach that that everyone is a winner.  We say things like, “At least you tried your hardest....you did great...everyone is a winner here...”  Actually, I never said these things.  I was on the other end.  I hated putting Little Man in YMCA sports, because they don’t have winners.  They give all the kids a trophy at the end.  To me, that is crap.  What are we teaching them?  That if they don’t win, they still get the trophy?  That isn’t how real life is, so why do we act as though losing deserves reward?  

I know I am all over the place in this blog...and frankly that is how I feel about this stuff. Winning to me is important.  If you don’t win you lose.  After reading the book, I think maybe losing is good.  Is losing the same as getting a “no”?  If it is then it leads to success.  Are you confused yet?  Regardless, I am still not going to let a kid beat me at Uno...I don’t care how cute he is.

A few Pet Peeves...

My Pet Peeves:

Standing in line at the grocery store with a cart full of groceries.  After waiting for 5 minutes to get up to the checker, she asks me: Did you find everything you need?

*Seriously?  If I didn’t find everything I needed, would I be in line?  Or... No, I actually have five more things on my list, here they are, can you please go get them for me?

My family of three walks into a restaurant, and up to the hostess stand.  Will it be

three today?

*No, we have 18, can’t you see them?  I KNEW we should have brought the hostess the extra pair of x-ray glasses!  

Calling a doctors office.  Receptionist: Can you hold please?

*Do I have a choice?  They don’t even give you time to respond before putting you on hold.  Why do they ask?  Why not just say: hold please.

When someone says: You want me to be honest with you?  Or...to be perfectly honest

with you...

*What, so you have been lying to me this whole time, and now you are going to start telling me the truth?  Of course I want you to be honest with me you tool!  

When my blond and brunette BFF say to me: I HAVE to lose this gut!

*These two 5‘7 beauty’s don’t even weigh 105 AFTER eating Thanksgiving dinner!!

People that allow their children to get obese.  

*Nothing makes me sadder than a family of SEVERE obesity walking into a McDonalds and sitting down to have lunch.  Let’s just say they don’t opt for the apples and milk.  Why would you damage your children like that?  

Servers that don’t clear off the table.  Enough said.

Blue candy.  

*Why?  BLUE SHOULD NOT BE EATEN!  Come on!  

Comcast

Close your eyes and think about this word for a moment.  What comes to your mind?  Television?  Internet?  Phone?  Cable?  Would you describe the relationship with that company as a love hate relationship?  Or would you describe it as a non applicable relationship?  When I hear the word Comcast, let me tell you the things that come to my head.  Repulsion, resentment, animosity.  These three words are a delicate way of saying: If this company were a pesky spider, I would not only step on it, but I would twist my foot on top of it, and then pick it up with a tissue and squish it more.  I would then walk to the commode and let it live a horrible death of drowning.

From the moment we moved to Connecticut, we have not just had problems.  We have had devastation.  You may not think being without internet is devastating, but for our family it is.  The Chief and I have jobs that rely on the internet.  We must have that communication with the outside world.  Of course we could pick up a phone, but who they hell does that anymore?  Okay, so maybe devastation is an exaggeration.  Maybe.  Let’s just say I have spent more time on the phone with Comcast in the last six months, than I have my blond BFF.  I am on a first name basis with these people.  They no longer call me politely by my last name.  They now call me by my first when they are on the phone with me, and they call me something else when they have me on hold.  

I won’t bore you with the details of our obstacles.  I will however tell you how one of the many conversations went.  

Me: My fax is still not working.

Comcast: Let me read the notes in the file, just a moment please.  

I then get put on hold while they either read through 236 pages of notes on my file, or while they see the first note that says: This woman is a hopeless cause, go grab a donut.  

Comcast: Okay, what exactly is it doing?

Me: Nothing, that is why I am calling.  (Wow, these people are...never mind)

Comcast: Let me send someone out to see if they can resolve the problem.

Me: Okay, you are going to send a third person out?  You have already sent out two hillbillies that have told me it is my brand new fax machine that doesn’t work.

Comcast: Let me put you on hold for a second.

At this point, she puts me on hold and then yells out to the call center she will pay ANYONE $500.00 to take over the phone call.  Someone else yells, “Who is the caller?”  She responds.  The room goes silent.  She reluctantly returns to my phone call with her tail tucked between her legs.     

Comcast: The only thing I can do is send someone else out.

Me: ....fine.  Send out another Jack Wagon.  

Comcast: Okay, what day works best for you?  I have two weeks out on Thursday, does that work for you?

Me: *Laughing*  I’m sorry, I could have sworn you said two weeks.  

Comcast: ....I did.

Me: Put your manager on the phone.

After putting me on hold she literally SKIPS to her managers office, gleeful about getting me off the phone.

Comcast Mgr: *Still using my first name*  What seems to be the problem?

Me: What is your name?  You sound familiar.

Comcast Mgr: Shaquilla P.

Me: *Thinking inside my head-Really?  You mean you have to use your last initial?  You aren’t the only Shaquilla in that office?*  Shaquilla, lucky for you, I spoke to you on February 16th at 2:32 pm.  I KNEW those immaculate notes would come in handy!  

Comcast Mgr: Yes, you did.  Are you still having the same problem?

Me: Nope, a whole new one this time!

Comcast Mgr: What is going on?

Me: Why don’t you put me on hold and read through the notes so I don’t have to repeat myself.

Comcast Mgr: Just a moment.

During this hold period I am able to let out the dog, clean off the kitchen table, do three loads of laundry, and vacuum the downstairs of my house.

Comcast Mgr: Are you there?

Me: Unfortunately for you, yes.

Comcast Mgr: I will have someone out there on Friday.

Me: Today is Tuesday.

Comcast Mgr: I can’t do better than Friday.

This is starting to feel strangely like deja vu.  I am suddenly back in NYC bargaining with a Chinese woman over a Coach knock off.  

Me: I have had this problem from the day we moved in.  You have sent out two people that have done nothing but waste my precious time.  Now you want to send out another moron to tell me the same thing.  

Comcast Mgr: This one has more experience.

Me: Okay, send your tech with 2 months of experience out, but Friday won’t work.  You people can do better than that.

Comcast Mgr: Hold please.

After putting me on hold, she curls up into the fetal position under her desk and prays for it to all go away.    

Comcast Mgr: I can do Thursday.

Me: Fine then.  

Comcast Mgr: Is there anything else I can help you with?

Me: Don’t get me started.

Comcast Mgr: Have a nice day then, and thank you for choosing Comcast.

She didn’t stay on the phone long enough to hear my choice of selected words for her.  This conversation was one of my most polite.  The other 22 conversations I have had with them were not as neighborly as this one.  The conversation normally ends with me telling them they are the worse company that ever existed.  I also tell them they have a bunch of chumps working as technicians that don’t know what they are doing.  I inform them I have never received worse service than theirs, and that if I were stranded in the middle of the ocean and they threw me a life vest, I wouldn’t take it in fear it has holes punched through it and arms secretly hidden that would pull me under and drown me.

This company has caused me ulcers, headaches, and too-close-for-comfort heart attacks.  What they don’t know is that I have no choice to switch to switching to another company.  They are the only one that services my neighborhood that is an all-in-one service...if that is what you want to call them.  

On the flip side, we have Starz and HBO for free for a lifetime, we have had about $200 refunded to our account, AND I have gotten more laundry done sitting on hold then I have on a day off from work.  

Let the lesson be this: If you are stranded in the desert with nothing to drink, and a Comcast van drives by and offers you a water, don't take it...chances are it has arsenic in it.   

For you.

There’s no taking back what I did wrong.  

But, oh, how I wish that weren’t true right now.  

How I wish I could just say “I’m sorry” and watch 

as what I’ve done wrong disappears before our very eyes.  

I know that won’t happen.  

But I want you to know I am sorry-I’m as sorry as I can be.  

Loving you the way I do, there’s just no excuse for the way I’ve made you feel.  

So even though I can’t take anything back, 

I hope you know how much I love you and how much I hope your love for me will help you to forgive.  - J. Gahr

I saw this and immediately thought of you.  It says what I want to say so well.  I was completely out of line.  I was hurtful, and wrong.  I took my anger out on you and said things I can never take back.  If you should be able to trust one person to always love you and be there for you, it should be me....and I have failed you.  I am sorry.  Unfortunately, I will not go away.  I will fight for your forgiveness because that is who I am.  I will admit when I am wrong, and I was wrong.  I love you.  

There is no escape

So after years of lecturing, begging, and pleading, I finally went to the doctor to check me over for skin cancer.  I started tanning in a tanning bed when I was 17 years old.  I quit tanning last year when I became pregnant with surrogacy number 2.  I haven’t been back since.  Now that it is summer time, I miss that tanning bed like bees miss honey.  It is amazing how much better I feel about myself when I am tan.  Needless to say, I have been sneaking little peaks at the beautiful sunshine...knowing I am probably full of skin cancer.

So I finally took the plunge.  Set the appointment.  Sat in the waiting room.  Followed the nurse to my room.  Stripped down to underwear.  Let myself be examined.  I HATE this part of ANY doctor.  Everything that you think bad about yourself, multiplies when you are laying there completely exposed, in front of a female doctor with a body cut like Demi Moore in G.I. Jane.  As I am laying there, wishing I hadn’t had those brownies two days before, I tried to position myself in the best way possible to show off my screaming flabby body.  EVERY woman knows these positions.  When we are laying with our husbands trying to appear sexy, we lay at a slight angle with one leg folded up.  The slight angle does two wonderful things.  Makes that hip bone come out slightly (making you appear thinner), and with that leg up, it also appears thinner and inviting....right?  Admit it!  We all have these certain positions that we know make us look 10 years younger and 10 pounds lighter!  So here I am, laying with one leg slightly folded, and leaning towards one side.  After checking my front, she has me flip.  There goes all my hard work, down the drain.  No way to look athletic laying on your stomach.  I knew then, it was all in God’s hands.  As I laid there, I prayed for three things.  1. God would give me the will power to eat healthy from this day forward (no more brownies).  2. God would keep her eyes focused enough to spot cancer, but unfocused enough to look over all my flaws. 3.  That this appointment would be a waste of time and she wouldn’t find anything.  

So this is my theory.  People die of two things.  Accidents or cancer.  If we don’t die in some tragic accident, the heartless disease called cancer will take us from what we love.  She found a spot on my shoulder.  She assured me it was probably just basal cell cancer, but she still took a slight chunk out and sent it in for testing.  So I am not sure God heard me too well since 1. About a half hour ago I had a handful of rice-crispy treats that have been crying for me to eat them all afternoon, and 2. She found what I feared she would find.  

So the good news is basal cell is no big deal, I figured I probably had it anyway.  So back to my theory.  Do you know all the things that cause cancer?  Tobacco causes lung cancer, lip cancer, throat cancer, tongue cancer.  Sun causes skin cancer.  Being overweight, drinking alcohol, exposure to radon, lead, cleaning products, pollution, some medications can even cause cancer.  I have heard talking on your cell phone now, can cause brain cancer!  I read once that drinking water that has been in your vehicle for a long period can cause cancer.  Just so you understand, everything you do can cause cancer.  There is no way to escape it.  Sometimes its flat out genetics!  You can do everything right, and still get it!  I am not sure it is something we should fear anymore than getting struck by lightning.  The Good Lord will take us when he is ready.  He will choose how we go, and when we go.  In the meantime, I will try my best to cut out the brownies, and force myself to put that creamy substance called sunscreen on myself before giving the sun any of my undivided attention.