Odds and Tight Ends

CONGRATULATIONS! To my cousin Ryan for getting drafted by the New England Patriots (my favorite football team with my favorite quarter back). Surely, he'll be able to sneak me in the locker room!


Anger Management II

I have 16 years worth of "he's a controlling ass" stories from my marriage. I was so relieved when that divorce was final and I had a chance to start over and gain control of my own life - FINALLY! Last summer, when he somehow successfully snagged a serious (and HOT!) girlfriend, I went OUT OF MY MIND with rage - that tramp was in MY house, petting MY dog and how could HE find someone to love when I couldn't and he's rich and I'm poor and life's not fair, wahhhhh! I drove by the house several times a day, used my garage door opener in the middle of the night, searched through the house when he wasn't there, called at half-hour increments, googled his girlfriend, then called and drove by HER house. My anger was consuming me.

After three weeks at this grueling pace of frantic behavior, I agreed to a pool party (yeah, 'cause even psychos need a day off). All day with minimal clothing, lots of beer, splashing and sun, my pain and rage were temporarily numbed. I followed the advice in a Supertramp song, and took the long way home, driving by the ex's house out of habit by this time, when I had a brainstorm: I'll STEAL the dog out of the backyard! She loves me more, and he doesn't deserve her! Drama-filled phone calls followed when he noticed she was gone so he called to fight about dog custody (tell me: WHY argue with a drunk woman? Do you think I'm going to suddenly think like a rational human being?). I also vaguely remember calling his girlfriend and rambling on to her answering machine about the fact that she was white trash. I'm quite intimidating with a drunken slur, let me tell you.

The next morning, I was in bed (petting my dog, heh) when my heart started palpitating. No biggee, I'm used to it, it's happened all my life. My arms went numb and I started to worry a little but decided to give it another 10 minutes just to see if it would stop. It didn't. I drove myself to the hospital a few miles away (and repeatedly got bitched out about this, but I have crappy insurance) and could barely talk at this point. After an hour in the E.R. with a heart rate of over 240 bpm, they injected something to make my heart stop and start some sort of normal rhythym...twice! I'm in my THIRTIES!!

Maybe the events are unrelated. Maybe it was a coincidence. But until you're in my shoes, or my hospital gown with hangover hair and your heart stopped, crying with waterproof mascara clumping around your eyes, please don't ask me to hold onto anger any longer than I have to.


Tylenol moment

If you ever meet me...and it's 3 a.m....and I'm drunk-ish, tell me to shut the hell up when I say we need to skip work and go to the beach for the day. Remind me that friends don't headbutt one another. Remove all writing utensils and cell phones from the premises. Then FORCE me to eat something. Odds are I didn't want to ruin my buzz and haven't eaten since lunch so I'm going to be miserable.

And these grapes looked a helluva lot better before coming up.


Gin and Platonic

For any doubters that men and women can permanently reside on the friendship plane, I give you Mel ("...take my friend - please!").

I started my first post-college job in Nashville in ’94 (I shoulda stuck with bartending). My studies were vague. I had an idea of becoming a physical therapist, but somewhere between registration and graduation, life got in the way. Too many moves, a husband, kid and the military lifestyle forced me in the direction of Plan B. I was hired on as a Field Chemist for an Environmental firm, which basically meant I traveled a 5 state region and was on the road and in hotels all week.

Mel had been with the company about a year before I started. He was a newlywed (lovesick, blech, but I tried not to hold it against him) and an all-around great guy. We hit it off immediately with our shared sense of humor and interest in beer and music - anyone who owns a Depeche Mode cd gets 20 bonus points in my world!

Sometimes, for me anyway, you meet someone and know. We were instantly friends - no walls to break, no awkward silences to overcome. It wasn’t lust, or love or any other complicated emotion – just a feeling that we had been close before and he would never hurt me. And he never did.

After I moved to Germany, we kept in touch via email, and we've continued to make cds for each other over the years. Neither of us ever crossed that line of friendship. Part of what I admire so much about him is that he would never consider cheating on his wife.

He lives in St. Louis now, but when his company won my contract, he was sent down to make sure the environmental program was running well...and now I expect I'll get to see him regularly. Next time, however, we are NOT staying up all night talking. One of us is getting too old for that.


Of all the LEAST likely places to nap...it's a good thing I looked before turning on the water.