Retail Therapy

I was taught at an early age that any time your life is disrupted, you go shopping. Not just shopping, but SHOPPING, all caps, all the time. Shopping for shoes, clothes, sales, junk, whatever. When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping.

This I learned from my grandmother, who was a huge influence on my life. Probably the greatest influence on my life. Her best friend's name was Mall. Mall was short for Lillian. Well, maybe not short for Lillian, but instead of Lillian. You see, Mall and my Nana were shopping buddies. They had their routine down pat. Off to Hagerstown, Maryland to while away time and the Montgomery Wards and Sears and I think there was a JC Penney there too, but that was a long time ago and my memories aren't what they used to be. Then they would get pizza, again in the mall.

Anyway, enough background information. To make a long story short, I learned at the feet of the master shopper. How to find deals. How to love shoes, especially high heels. How to use shopping to forget about your troubles for a while.

Today, I have learned that while a fun past time, shopping should not be a form of therapy. For many reasons. One, it can get you into debt. Two, the problems don't go away, they just hide for a while. Three, once the problems you were running away from come back, you just go shopping again which leads us right back to reason #1.

I love to shop. I love to bargain hunt. I love good clothes and even better shoes. But for myself, I am on a shopping moratorium.

At the beginning of the year, I created a self-imposed shopping hiatus that is to last until 2011. At first it was just shoes. Now I have added all non-necessity items to that list. I have had a serious decrease in cash flow lately and I really do own all of the shoes that I need at the moment. In fact, I am going to clean out my garage shoe storage area and give away anything that I have not worn in the last two years. Same thing goes for my clothing.

I am doing too fucking well at this asstarded shopping abstinence. I have NOT bought a single pair of shoes this entire year and it's almost May. How can that be? I NEVER stick with anything and yet this one thing that brings me so much joy, I have cut out of my life completely. Go figure. And I can't really just try shoes on because that is like putting a fat person in a candy shop just to smell the chocolate, or taking an alcoholic on a tour of the Jack Daniels plant. Nooooooooooooo!!!!! I went cold turkey. Just like that. And now, all of the beautiful, shiny, sequined, strappy, stiletto, platform, wedged, glorious sexual objects for the feet are out of my grasp.

I know that I can do this damn thing. I just have to stay out of every single store that I love so much. Like Macy's and Dillard's and BCBG and BeBe and.... well you get the point. And I am doing well with the clothing too. For one, I am not working, so the costume du jour is almost always drawstring sweats and a T-shirt and maybe a hoodie on cold days. The few times I have to get dressed in something that I shouldn't be cleaning in, I wear jeans. That's not to say that I haven't bought clothing or shoes. Or maybe I should say one pair of shoes. I had to, as a necessity, purchase a new pair of tennis shoes. And I have picked up a couple of pairs of yoga pants and t-shirts since March when I added clothing to the mix. But all of those items were needed and I don't count socks and underwear and bras in any category as I don't need my undergarments to look like mice have been chewing on them

Other than that, I have stuck to my plan.

Hopefully I can buckle down and apply this attitude to other areas of my life.

Cheers to not falling off of the wagon. Because we all know that if I do, it will be the shopping spree heard 'round the world. The stock market will go up, there will be small, overworked children in third world countries with bleeding fingers and department stores in my town will weep at the extravaganza.

Hopefully, I can just dream about it at night at let the memories get me through the day. Until then, I can just picture my Nana and Mall, in heaven, weeping with the angels over my strict self-control. Not understanding how I can resist the might siren's call of that phenomenon we call Retail Therapy.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease.

I Just Might Still Be Funny

So Saturday night was the bachelorette party for one of my oldest and dearest friends. She is getting married in a few weeks and I am in the wedding. I am very excited for her.

However, I was worried about the party because I am not 100% there physically and most likely won't be for the next several months. I didn't want to detract from her day in any way, but I thought that I should show up to support her.

The plan was to go to dinner with a small group and then go home and meet the entire party back at her house an hour before they were set to leave and then follow them to their first location so that I would have my car since I wasn't planning on staying out the entire night. I have to take my medication at specific times and I needed to be home, so going with the entire group was not an option for me.

Still, I worried that the woman that my friend had known for the last twelve years would no longer be there. In her place, would be someone else. Someone who has changed remarkably over the last two years and even more so over the last two months. I felt like I would have nothing to contribute to the party.

Not so.

I had them laughing in hysterics at the dinner table that night. Somehow, I was able to reach deep into myself for the ability to be humorous once more. I had some pretty remarkable one-liners and some funny stories. I might not be the life of the party, but I was still fun. Stone cold sober. I can't drink on my medication and I don't have the desire to, even if I had the ability. I want a new and different life for myself and I am working hard to forge my way ahead and become the person that I want to be, with all of the good parts of the old person thrown in.

They say that you can't teach an old dog new tricks. To those people I say "shut the fuck up and mind your own damn business." I am not old, I am not a dog and I don't do tricks. What I am doing is trying to remodel myself into a better person. Not that I was a bad person to begin with, but there is much room for improvement and that is my aim. I no longer strive to be superwoman. I have much more simple goals. To be a good parent, to be a good daughter/sister/etc. and to be a good friend. I think that once I tidy that part of my life up, the rest will start rolling into place.

I am still the same person, just improved. Better, faster, stronger. Okay, maybe I am not all of those things yet, but I will be. Sometime in the future I will be.

I am still getting my ass kicked on a daily basis. The side effects of this medication are increasing, but I try to keep a positive outlook. Things could always be worse and the point of what I am doing is to be healthier. I am trying every day to be positive and see that silver lining that seems so obscured to me. But still I cannot do this without assistance. I have friends and family, loved ones, who are helping me through. Even when I try to shut them out, the come crashing through my walls to help. I don't even have to ask for it. They pick me up when I start falling. They reassure me when I have doubts. They take my negativity and shoot rainbows back at me. Their unfailing belief in me keeps me going and makes me believe in myself and my own strength.

I am still working through all of this, but I am taking it one day at a time. Which is the only way that I can do what I need to do and still have a productive, happy life.

But I'm still funny. So yay!

To Sarah

I have known you since you were a teenager and I was a mere twenty years old. How quickly time passes as it's now twelve years later. We have both had children since then. We have had relationships and tears, smiles and laughter, heartbreak and successes.

I met you at a "fitness" class that we were both taking for an easy credit and an easy A. Little did we know that the instructor was a hard ass and that she would be riding everyone until the end of the semester. When the final came around, and yes there was a fucking written final for a dumb ass strength and flexibility class, we cheated off of each other.

Then came dancing, a shared passion. You taught me how to do most of them. We learned hip-hop in your tiny apartment one floor below mine. It was the three amigos on one, two and three, but you and I most of all.

We went dancing once or twice a week. Learning the two-step and the waltz, the cha-cha and the chadish. Before we left, we would get ready together most of the time in one of our tiny bathrooms with curling irons and hairspray and makeup scattered all over the place.

You were my support when things started to slide south in my life. You gave me encouragement and strength and the insight that, yes what I was doing was difficult and painful, but in the end I had made the right decision for everyone involved.

Throughout the years, we have spent time together and time apart due to circumstance and trials. But whether we were eating bad pizza from Rini-Rego's and watching Jeff Foxworthy on my VCR or playing softball together, we always had fun.

Picnics and birthdays and cards and crazy times and quiet times were all a part of our friendship. You are a sister of the heart and one of my favorite people on the planet. I can always count on you to be there for me whenever I need you, even if I don't have the courage to ask for help. And you know that I will be there for you whenever you need me, whether you want me to be there or not.

Congratulations on making this new change in your life. I am proud of the way you have matured over the years and how you handle yourself with dignity and grace. I will be there on that day in May, standing up for someone that I love with all of my heart. You don't need my blessing or my input. You need my support and my love and I hope, that on your special day, that you can feel both radiating from me as we share in such a joyous occasion.

I love you.

ADW

Happy Birthday Baby

My little bear is six today.

I love him so.

That is all.

Hooters Reunion Part 2 - With Pictures

How much fun was last Friday night? It's been so long (too long) since I have gone out with friends.

Even though Ihad to leave early in the night - since I take medicine and all - and even though I had about a half a glass of sangria, I had an absolute blast.

I you are ever in Cleveland, you have to go to Mallorca. It is the best restaurant in town and the service there is impeccable. Of course, no one sitting anywhere close to us enjoyed their dinner since we were absolutely obnoxious. In fact, KY decided to yell out "Fuck yeah I like to party" at the top of her lungs. And some old fossil had to be manhandled onto his transport back to the hotel he and his wife were staying at AFTER telling his wife "I don't wanna go".

And then there was the BIG HAIR. All caps. HUGE HAIR. KY and I both go to the blog renowned Man Ho Cho and he has a saying... well actually I gave him the saying, but it's "the higher the hair, the closer to God." And by all that is holy, he takes it seriously. He actually told me after he did my hair "I rearry outdid mysef dis time."

KY and I were the first to arrive, so when we walked in she told the host, "BIG HAIR, party of ten." I almost peed my pants and that was just the start to the evening.

All told, eight ladies showed up which was a great turn out. One of our girlfriends from Minnesota was in town and I had not seen her for almost three years, so it was a real treat.

I, of course, had to go home early along with two other ladies. I can't stay out late with the medication I am on and I get very tired, very easily. I was soooo sad to go, but c'est la vie.

It was a great time and I can't wait to do it again soon.

Oh... and here are some pictures.

Me with BIG HAIR and my very sparkly dress.

Me and KY

Me and BBS

Three Hot Mommas

Girlfriends

"Unh Unh, We Closed"

"I hate grape pop, It tastes like med-di-sun"

"Oh my God! You found my purse. I have 18,000 dollars in there."

"Frito Bandito"

"Browns' Sunday"

"I love KY's Flower" (in mustard)

Turtle Face

Collective Soul

Vanilla Ice

Sonny Ledford and an accidental Vicodin incident

Good times ladies. Good times.

Hooters Reunion Part 1

So.....

It's been 10 years since I started working at Hooters and almost 7 since the place closed down. When that happened, there were a lot of girls out of a job. I am sure that most of us thought that we would go our own way, but we many of us were surprised that we never did.

After that sad, sad day, many of us began working at a new place, in a new location with a new owner. In fact, the place was so new that it wasn't even open at the time the old place closed down. But it was up and running a few weeks later and so were we.

Most of us decided to do other things at new places. But through it all, a core group survived. At first we saw each other quite a bit. Either by working together, or meeting up now and then to reminisce or have a few drinks. We would see each other at weddings and baby showers.

Some of us moved away. To Minnesota and Chicago and South Carolina and other places unknown.

But today? Today a big group of us gets back together. We are going to meet tonight and a very nice place where last the largest group of us dined. We will eat and drink and switch seats and laugh and tell stories about things that happened in that golden time. Before we grew up. Before we really started understanding life.

So much has changed. Marriages and divorces. Babies and break-ups. College Degrees, new jobs, new cities, new friends. But the core of it all? Underneath everything? Is a sisterhood that will never diminish with time.

And my hope is that we will do this more often. And that over the years, as our faces line with wrinkles or spread out with Botox, as we have more babies and learn more about life, that the love and affection that we feel for one another stays true and strong.

We might not be together all at once. We may never have this opportunity again. But what we will have are all of our memories and hopefully all of our mammaries.

I love you girls and I can't wait to see you all tonight.

Bring it hard and bring it sexy.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease.

Thinking

Damn it all. I need to stop thinking so much and start writing. I am the world's greatest procrastinator and what I really need is someone to kick my ass and tell me to buck up and get going.

Instead, I think. I get ideas in the middle of the night that I never write down. I worry about things that haven't happened yet and will never happen unless I buckle down and start doing it.

Thinking sucks me in, because before I know it, hours have elapsed and I have gotten absolutely nowhere. I can blame the medical stuff or I can blame personal issues or I can blame being a busy mother. I CAN blame any number of things, but I won't because I am to blame.

At the end of the day, I am a chickenshit. I am too scared of rejection and too lazy to do something that I really, really want to do. The ultimate dream. And now? I am wavering. All I really want to do is go back to bed. What I should do is buckle down and write. What I probably will do is laundry.

I hate people like me today. Vacillating. Opting out. Being scared.

I need to remember to breath. And to remember that it's OK to be scared. I have been told in no uncertain terms that I have to stop trying to be perfect. Not that I think I am perfect, but that I try too hard to BE perfect. So I will wallow if I want to and if inspiration strikes, I just may get that little nudge that I need.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease.