Bucky..ugh..Well Bucky was a cocker spaniel we owned. We = Den and I. Den brought him home to me when I was 4 or 5 months pregnant with our first child. He was really cute as all puppies are. But he didn't stay that way for long. I have a few stories about him and they won't be posted in any certain order Just by how well I can remember the story and if I can keep the story short enough to post.
It was bedtime and den beat me to the bed so when that happens the one still standing has to turn lights out in the house put the dog out for the last time and lock the doors.
I was the last one standing that night. So I put my slippers on and left the bedroom and headed to the back door to let Bucky out. Most of the lights were already shutoff so I blindly walked through the house It's was only like 12 -15 steps to the back door from our bed. But I had to navigate three steps down and then three steps up on the way back. Bucky went outside and QUICKLY came back in.
So I ran all the way back into the bedroom and jumped in the bed and crawled under the covers and and I kicked my feet a little to get the slippers off but it didn't work so as I reached down under the covers to take the slippers off by hand I smelled it. DENNIS! JESUS DENNIS WHY DO YOU HAVE TO FART AND LET IT STINK! OMG YOU ARE A PIG! WOah wait a minute. What the hell is on my slippers?
Realizing what it was I screamed at Den to get out of bed because there is dogshit spread in between the sheets. YUP.FN Bucky had shit in the house most likely when Den and I were racing to the bed and the lights were already out so I had no idea I was walking through it on the way to let him outside. And that's why he came back in so quickly.
Now we are both out of bed checking each other out to make sure we don't have any shit on our pajamas. Well I did...I pretty much had a smear everywhere. And It stunk so bad. Sooo we head to the bathroom with the lights on and see all the evidence now smushed into the carpet because I stepped in every single piece of poop he dropped...no planted strategically..come on, why else did I step in every single one?
Who likes to change the sheets to the bed after you've already gone to bed? I don't. So we just put another blanket on top of the bed and went to sleep. HAHAH no we didn't do that. I'm gross but not that gross. We changed the sheets.
Who likes to clean the carpet after they have already gone to bed? I don't. So we just left it figuring it would be easier to pick up after it was dried and crusted into the carpet. No we didn't do that either..Again I'm lazy and gross but not that gross. We cleaned the run, stepped and jumped in poop from the carpet.
Goodnight!
More Bucky stories to come.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Trying to claim a fart.
Okay so it's early one morning and I am awake lying in bed. But I pretend to be asleep because I know Dennis is awake and I know what he is going to want if he knows I'm awake. I think I can safely say that's the last thing most women want to focus on as soon as their eyes open in the morning.
Well Dennis being a man tries to wake me in a few subtle ways. At this time we had a water bed so doing the ole 'change positions' in bed is a good try because the waves sometimes will stir me awake. NOT this time. Then he tries some coughing..NOPE I'm not ready yet. So he gives up hope and gets out of bed and as he walks to the bathroom he farts really loud. Now I find farts funny as long as they don't stink. If they stink then get the f out of my space. This was a funny one. I held my laughter until he is in the bathroom and couldn't hear me laughing because I don't want him to do an about face and get back in bed because... I'm still not ready.
While he is in the bathroom my mind races and I start to think of something funny I can do to let him know I was awake the whole time. It didn't take long for me to figure out that I'm gonna ask him if he heard the fart I ripped earlier.
He comes back into the bedroom and is standing in front of the closet and I casually start to stretch as if I'm just waking up and I yawn and say "good morning honey". He replies with a "good morning" and he sounds a bit put off because I never woke up before and he seems to be missing something in his day already. Then I ask him "Did you hear that fart I ripped?" He asks me "When?" I tell him "Just a few mins ago when you were walking to the bathroom." He really gets angry and looks at me and yells "THAT WAS MY FART!"
He was so upset that I tried to claim his fart. You would have thought I took the last circus peanut on earth. ( grossest candy ever) I busted laughing. I was crying laughing. I tried to claim his fart. Seriously has anyone ever tried to claim someone else's fart He eventually did laugh with me. I think he realized how silly it was for him to be so upset. It's a fart. There is plenty more where that came from.
Moral of the story... if you're not going to give it to him don't try and take it away from him either.
Well Dennis being a man tries to wake me in a few subtle ways. At this time we had a water bed so doing the ole 'change positions' in bed is a good try because the waves sometimes will stir me awake. NOT this time. Then he tries some coughing..NOPE I'm not ready yet. So he gives up hope and gets out of bed and as he walks to the bathroom he farts really loud. Now I find farts funny as long as they don't stink. If they stink then get the f out of my space. This was a funny one. I held my laughter until he is in the bathroom and couldn't hear me laughing because I don't want him to do an about face and get back in bed because... I'm still not ready.
While he is in the bathroom my mind races and I start to think of something funny I can do to let him know I was awake the whole time. It didn't take long for me to figure out that I'm gonna ask him if he heard the fart I ripped earlier.
He comes back into the bedroom and is standing in front of the closet and I casually start to stretch as if I'm just waking up and I yawn and say "good morning honey". He replies with a "good morning" and he sounds a bit put off because I never woke up before and he seems to be missing something in his day already. Then I ask him "Did you hear that fart I ripped?" He asks me "When?" I tell him "Just a few mins ago when you were walking to the bathroom." He really gets angry and looks at me and yells "THAT WAS MY FART!"
He was so upset that I tried to claim his fart. You would have thought I took the last circus peanut on earth. ( grossest candy ever) I busted laughing. I was crying laughing. I tried to claim his fart. Seriously has anyone ever tried to claim someone else's fart He eventually did laugh with me. I think he realized how silly it was for him to be so upset. It's a fart. There is plenty more where that came from.
Moral of the story... if you're not going to give it to him don't try and take it away from him either.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
my struggle with religion
I wont be telling a funny story in this post. I will be exposing my own beliefs and how I've come to choose them. And as always this is a touchy subject. I welcome all comments.
I can't say I was raised Catholic but I was Christened in the Catholic church. I made my First Communion too. I never made my Confirmation. I was the youngest of three and by the time it was my turn my mother just really didn't care anymore. I don't hold this against her at all. I feel my life has been a series of fateful events and I've chosen how to react to all of them through experience.
In order to make My First Communion I remember I had to confess. I was pulled out of Sunday school class and sent to the Father's Office, I guess you would call it. I sat in front of him and he told me I had to confess my sins. I had to come up with something but I had nothing. I finally told him I stole my cousin Billy's polished rock. But in my mind I didn't steel it I had borrowed it because I had all intentions of returning it the next time I went to his house to play I just wanted to show my friends. Now that I had confessed to steeling I thought to myself I guess I better keep it now.
Lets fast fwd about 10 years. I am in the Navy and we are in Italy. Dennis and I take a tour at the Vatican. AWESOME! I loved the Architecture. I loved the ancient feel. I loved the culture. However I didn't have any feeling of a higher power being within me or around me or anywhere at all. It was a tour and I took pictures..
Now the next stop was in Israel. Let's see... we went to Bethlehem. I saw where Jesus was born. I saw where he rose from the dead. I walked the the 13 stations of Christ. I could feel a presence. And I never bought the 10 postcards for a dollah. That guy selling them seemed to perform miracles by showing up at every destination on that tour and he didn't have a vehicle.
After my oldest son was born I felt compelled to have him Baptised. I don't know why. I think it was the pressure from my mother. I had been going to the Methodist Church down the street that Dennis grew up in. I was volunteering in the nursery most Sunday's and OMGosh some of those kids were animals. So after a few months of this we get a phone call from the church asking for Dennis or Vickie McCartney. VICKIE!? My husband NEVER goes to church and you get his name right? Thanks a fn lot. And of course they were asking for money. I never went back.
So now it's maybe 1997 and I am sitting in the ice arena and another hockey mom tells me about BSF. She makes it sound so nice. I want to join because it's a non denominational Bible study and I've been wanting to read the Bible for many many years but I needed help. I join and this is an all woman group and we are separated into smaller groups according to our age and if we have children or not.
The first week I sat in the group and at the end of study most of the women asked for the group to pray for them for some reason or another. I do remember one of the women had a husband that was recently diagnosed with cancer so she asked for prayers. Now mind you I joined to learn how to read the Bible. I had no intentions of becoming anything I wasn't comfortable with just because I read a book. But by the 3rd week of class I got a phone call from the groups leader telling me that she will expect me to ask for prayers from the other ladies by next class.
I was a bit taken back by her demand and I told her I have nothing I need prayers for. She told me "We all need prayers and you can come up with something" She then asked what church I was raised in. I told her the Catholic church but I do not practice. What she said next floored me. Here it goes.. and remember, this is a non denominational bible study. "Diana you must realize that Catholics think that as long as they do good things and go to church they think they will go to Heaven. But it doesn't work that way. Catholics wont go to Heaven because they don't apply Jesus word to their everyday lives."
So there I sit on the receiving end of the phone listening to a person I barely know and also someone who has never met my family tell me I'm going to Hell along with my dead father and grandparents. At that point I politely told her I will no longer be part of the group.
So now what do I do? It's been 13 years since the last incident. I do believe Jesus was spreading compassion and love and acceptance around the world. But I don't believe he was the first one to attempt this and I don't believe he was sent by a God. And if he was sent by a God and this God is the only God why do so many people around this world have other Gods they worship? What makes them wrong and the Christian God right? The common thread in every religion is compassion. I believe I am a compassionate person. But some believe I'm evil and I am going to Hell.
I can't say I was raised Catholic but I was Christened in the Catholic church. I made my First Communion too. I never made my Confirmation. I was the youngest of three and by the time it was my turn my mother just really didn't care anymore. I don't hold this against her at all. I feel my life has been a series of fateful events and I've chosen how to react to all of them through experience.
In order to make My First Communion I remember I had to confess. I was pulled out of Sunday school class and sent to the Father's Office, I guess you would call it. I sat in front of him and he told me I had to confess my sins. I had to come up with something but I had nothing. I finally told him I stole my cousin Billy's polished rock. But in my mind I didn't steel it I had borrowed it because I had all intentions of returning it the next time I went to his house to play I just wanted to show my friends. Now that I had confessed to steeling I thought to myself I guess I better keep it now.
Lets fast fwd about 10 years. I am in the Navy and we are in Italy. Dennis and I take a tour at the Vatican. AWESOME! I loved the Architecture. I loved the ancient feel. I loved the culture. However I didn't have any feeling of a higher power being within me or around me or anywhere at all. It was a tour and I took pictures..
Now the next stop was in Israel. Let's see... we went to Bethlehem. I saw where Jesus was born. I saw where he rose from the dead. I walked the the 13 stations of Christ. I could feel a presence. And I never bought the 10 postcards for a dollah. That guy selling them seemed to perform miracles by showing up at every destination on that tour and he didn't have a vehicle.
After my oldest son was born I felt compelled to have him Baptised. I don't know why. I think it was the pressure from my mother. I had been going to the Methodist Church down the street that Dennis grew up in. I was volunteering in the nursery most Sunday's and OMGosh some of those kids were animals. So after a few months of this we get a phone call from the church asking for Dennis or Vickie McCartney. VICKIE!? My husband NEVER goes to church and you get his name right? Thanks a fn lot. And of course they were asking for money. I never went back.
So now it's maybe 1997 and I am sitting in the ice arena and another hockey mom tells me about BSF. She makes it sound so nice. I want to join because it's a non denominational Bible study and I've been wanting to read the Bible for many many years but I needed help. I join and this is an all woman group and we are separated into smaller groups according to our age and if we have children or not.
The first week I sat in the group and at the end of study most of the women asked for the group to pray for them for some reason or another. I do remember one of the women had a husband that was recently diagnosed with cancer so she asked for prayers. Now mind you I joined to learn how to read the Bible. I had no intentions of becoming anything I wasn't comfortable with just because I read a book. But by the 3rd week of class I got a phone call from the groups leader telling me that she will expect me to ask for prayers from the other ladies by next class.
I was a bit taken back by her demand and I told her I have nothing I need prayers for. She told me "We all need prayers and you can come up with something" She then asked what church I was raised in. I told her the Catholic church but I do not practice. What she said next floored me. Here it goes.. and remember, this is a non denominational bible study. "Diana you must realize that Catholics think that as long as they do good things and go to church they think they will go to Heaven. But it doesn't work that way. Catholics wont go to Heaven because they don't apply Jesus word to their everyday lives."
So there I sit on the receiving end of the phone listening to a person I barely know and also someone who has never met my family tell me I'm going to Hell along with my dead father and grandparents. At that point I politely told her I will no longer be part of the group.
So now what do I do? It's been 13 years since the last incident. I do believe Jesus was spreading compassion and love and acceptance around the world. But I don't believe he was the first one to attempt this and I don't believe he was sent by a God. And if he was sent by a God and this God is the only God why do so many people around this world have other Gods they worship? What makes them wrong and the Christian God right? The common thread in every religion is compassion. I believe I am a compassionate person. But some believe I'm evil and I am going to Hell.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
another pair of pantyhose gone bad
When I was 16 I had a friend named Tracey that pretty much lived at my house. As a matter of fact she did live with me for a few months at one time. This story involves Tracey and a pair of pantyhose. This story is also very disgusting but extremely funny (in the most disgusting way).
It was a Friday night and Tracey and I were getting the house ready to have some friends over for a party. I was in the kitchen standing at the sink doing something with my back to the rest of the house. Tracey was in my bedroom picking out clothes to wear.
Maybe two weeks or two months before this night Tracey and I witnessed another friend of ours named Chris put a knee high stocking over his head and distort his face and we pissed our pants laughing at him. His nose was flat and pulled up to his forehead and his lips were mooshed all over his face not covering his teeth at all. All the while he was doing a fantastic impression of Jack Tripper.
Soooo next thing I know Tracey is yelling my name from the hallway "Diana who do I look like?". I turn around and there she is.. she had a pair of my pantyhose over her head. You all know how much I love pantyhose.."TRACEY GET THOSE OFF YOUR HEAD!" I screamed. I run towards her and she panics and yanks the damn things off her head and asks "What's wrong?"
This is what was wrong...Earlier that day while wearing those pantyhose I started my period. gosh go figure... And of course I wasn't prepared and those pantyhose no longer had a white cotton crotch. I still can't believe Tracey did not see that huge stain stretched across her face. It was a small scene from a low budget horror movie. Even worse..did she not smell it? Is anyone laughing at this story. I know I am but I do have a warped sence of humor.
It was a Friday night and Tracey and I were getting the house ready to have some friends over for a party. I was in the kitchen standing at the sink doing something with my back to the rest of the house. Tracey was in my bedroom picking out clothes to wear.
Maybe two weeks or two months before this night Tracey and I witnessed another friend of ours named Chris put a knee high stocking over his head and distort his face and we pissed our pants laughing at him. His nose was flat and pulled up to his forehead and his lips were mooshed all over his face not covering his teeth at all. All the while he was doing a fantastic impression of Jack Tripper.
Soooo next thing I know Tracey is yelling my name from the hallway "Diana who do I look like?". I turn around and there she is.. she had a pair of my pantyhose over her head. You all know how much I love pantyhose.."TRACEY GET THOSE OFF YOUR HEAD!" I screamed. I run towards her and she panics and yanks the damn things off her head and asks "What's wrong?"
This is what was wrong...Earlier that day while wearing those pantyhose I started my period. gosh go figure... And of course I wasn't prepared and those pantyhose no longer had a white cotton crotch. I still can't believe Tracey did not see that huge stain stretched across her face. It was a small scene from a low budget horror movie. Even worse..did she not smell it? Is anyone laughing at this story. I know I am but I do have a warped sence of humor.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
a Simons Cat moment....
This is my catnip story
It was October 1999. Our house was for sale and we were getting ready for a showing. I had the Yankee McIntosh candle burning and a big bowl of MacIntosh apples out on display. We packed the kids up and the dog and headed out to do some shopping while the showing was being held. Don't worry I blew the candle out before we left..The house smelled and looked amazing on a nice fall day.
While we were shopping I picked up some catnip and toilet paper and a few other household items. We took the boys for some lunch and waited an hour and a half after the showing started to return to the house.
When we got home we pretty much let the dog in, put the grocery bags on the kitchen counter, noticed there was no realtor card left from the showing and headed out again because Dennis read a bit of the Sunday paper at the kitchen table and there was some special football game being played at the stadium across the street. We grabbed the boys and left the house to go watch the game.
About two hours later we walked back home opened the door and walked into what looked like a tornado had hit the kitchen and dining room. There were plastic grocery bags lying on the floor torn to shreds and the bag of catnip was torn open and weed was scattered from the coutertops all over the kitchen floor and into the diningroom. The Sunday paper had been run across and thrown onto the floor in several places. It was such a sight..We just kind laughed at it all. The aftermath of a kitty crack rampage was being witnessed. The cat had a shit load of fun and was no where to be found at this point and we had some cleaning to do.
It didn't take long for someone to discover the realtor card that was now in the house which was NOT in the house before we left for the football game. The laughter came to a screaching halt and now we wondered..did the cat do us a favor and wait till the realtor and potential buyers left to have all of her fun ORRRRRR did the cat not have any self control after getting a sweet waft of catnip in the air.
It was bad enough the realtor came after we went shopping and left everything out but to think they came into a house and saw the crazy mess that was going on is a hard thing to swallow.
It was October 1999. Our house was for sale and we were getting ready for a showing. I had the Yankee McIntosh candle burning and a big bowl of MacIntosh apples out on display. We packed the kids up and the dog and headed out to do some shopping while the showing was being held. Don't worry I blew the candle out before we left..The house smelled and looked amazing on a nice fall day.
While we were shopping I picked up some catnip and toilet paper and a few other household items. We took the boys for some lunch and waited an hour and a half after the showing started to return to the house.
When we got home we pretty much let the dog in, put the grocery bags on the kitchen counter, noticed there was no realtor card left from the showing and headed out again because Dennis read a bit of the Sunday paper at the kitchen table and there was some special football game being played at the stadium across the street. We grabbed the boys and left the house to go watch the game.
About two hours later we walked back home opened the door and walked into what looked like a tornado had hit the kitchen and dining room. There were plastic grocery bags lying on the floor torn to shreds and the bag of catnip was torn open and weed was scattered from the coutertops all over the kitchen floor and into the diningroom. The Sunday paper had been run across and thrown onto the floor in several places. It was such a sight..We just kind laughed at it all. The aftermath of a kitty crack rampage was being witnessed. The cat had a shit load of fun and was no where to be found at this point and we had some cleaning to do.
It didn't take long for someone to discover the realtor card that was now in the house which was NOT in the house before we left for the football game. The laughter came to a screaching halt and now we wondered..did the cat do us a favor and wait till the realtor and potential buyers left to have all of her fun ORRRRRR did the cat not have any self control after getting a sweet waft of catnip in the air.
It was bad enough the realtor came after we went shopping and left everything out but to think they came into a house and saw the crazy mess that was going on is a hard thing to swallow.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Ya I ate it...
This story got a good laugh last night so it's a post today. Hopefully a much shorter post than the last which I found I lost someones interest half way through and they never read the ending to the story. TOM!
So I believe I was 14 and I had my friend Holly over at our summer home on Plum Island. It was lunch time and we were inside in the livingroom eating. I was in a chair and Holly was sitting on the sofa about 10 ft away from me. I made ham sandwich's for lunch.
I had maybe taken one or two bites of my sandwich and was going in for a third bite when I noticed that it looked like something had fallen out of my sandwich and landed on my chest. So what do I do? I pick it up and eat it of course. It was my sandwich after all right?
Once I swallowed the suspicious meat Holly immediately screamed "GROSS I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST ATE THAT" huh? What the heck is her problem? I ate a piece of my sandwich that fell out of the bread. Shutup and finish yours.
HOLLY: I had a piece of meat in my mouth that was gristly and couldn't chew it enough to eat it so I threw it at you and you ate it!!
Ya I ate it...
So I believe I was 14 and I had my friend Holly over at our summer home on Plum Island. It was lunch time and we were inside in the livingroom eating. I was in a chair and Holly was sitting on the sofa about 10 ft away from me. I made ham sandwich's for lunch.
I had maybe taken one or two bites of my sandwich and was going in for a third bite when I noticed that it looked like something had fallen out of my sandwich and landed on my chest. So what do I do? I pick it up and eat it of course. It was my sandwich after all right?
Once I swallowed the suspicious meat Holly immediately screamed "GROSS I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST ATE THAT" huh? What the heck is her problem? I ate a piece of my sandwich that fell out of the bread. Shutup and finish yours.
HOLLY: I had a piece of meat in my mouth that was gristly and couldn't chew it enough to eat it so I threw it at you and you ate it!!
Ya I ate it...
Thursday, March 31, 2011
my husband and me
This post is for my husband.
I want to tell everyone and anyone who reads this that my husband is my life. We have been together for 25yrs! One quarter of a century. We have grown to be almost one. We finish each others sentences. We call or text each other with the same thoughts. We make each other laugh everyday. We are each others best friends.
Dennis and I met on the USS Puget Sound in late May of 1986. We knew each other by our last names. He was McCartney and I was Jean. (Mary) Porter took me around the machine shop and introduced me to all the MR's. Petty Officer McCartney was the last one I met. There he stood. In his dungarees. I couldn't read his name that was stamped over the left breast pocket of his shirt because there was a full tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush and I believe some dental floss sticking out of his pocket. Porter says "McCartney this is Jean" McCartney immediately impressed me by doing "The Dance" Up on his toes his fists in front of him pumping. (think Pee Wee Herman, Tequila) He sang his name to me and then scooted off to dental for his appointment.
We worked with each other in the Machine shop and we talked and got to know each other. Other than "The Dance" The first thing he did I remember laughing at was he took a piece of paper that was long and thin and he made it swim in the air and with his best Jacques Cousteau impression he said "This is the male paper fish" I was smitten with his humor at that point.
As the days went on and I became more comfortable on the ship and got to know more people McCartney had started to show some interest in me by asking me on a date. One time he asked me and I had duty that weekend. Which meant I couldn't leave the ship at all. I had to stand watch. I thanked Paul for asking me though. (doh his name is Dennis. I could never remember that) It seemed every time he asked me I would already have plans. Until one day my plans happened to be going to the laundromat to do my laundry and he offered to bring me. McCartney had a car on base and I didn't so this would work out beautifully.
We got to the laundromat and got the laundry going and sat and talked and learned a lot about each other that night. When the clothes were in the dryer McCartney looked over and asked "What's that?" Well come to find out I had left and o.b. tampon in my pants pocket and it went through the wash and now was in the dryer but it was the size of a basketball and all fluffy going around and around and around. Hmmmm way to impress. McCartney saved a kitten from under a car that night too. He also took me to an Italian restaurant on Virginia Beach. After dinner we walked the beach and the sun was setting and we noticed on the waters edge there were lots of little jelly fish. We got our dog tags and started tapping the jellyfish and watched them glow a vibrant green. How cool that was! He drove me back to the ship and walked me to my berthing and said goodnight.
What the hell kind of date was that? He never tried to kiss me, he didn't even try to hold my hand. I must be a lousy date. This is embarrassing that I wasn't attractive enough for him to try any moves on me. Every other boy I had been on a "date" with wanted to be repaid somehow with some sort of sexual favor. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?
Before muster the next morning I was sitting in front of a horizontal boring machine and McCartney sat down next to me. He started a conversation and if any of you know me I have terrible comprehension issues. Whatever he had said to me doesn't matter at this point but my answer was totally off the wall and the look he gave me was priceless. Once I realized I misunderstood what he said I explained what I actually heard. To which he replied "oh you had a stupid attack?" Again I still did not comprehend what was said and answered with "No I'm not Italian." WOW! now the look on his face was beyond priceless. We had our first long big laugh together. And I got a sparkle in my eye for him.
McCartney and Jean became an item. We had our first kiss after a date to go see 'Top Gun' I initiated it. We were in his 1966 Dodge Polara that I was shocked to find out was his. I had been walking the parking lot for a month and would always stop and look at this red Dodge. I loved it but thought whomever owned it was a slob because there was always laundry hanging over the seats and he had 2 house speakers in the back seat. I was so happy and having so much fun.
In August the ship went to Gitmo to train for battle. Before we left Dennis and I were out sitting on the trunk of his Polara just talking and I jumped down and turned around to him and hugged him and realized "I LOVE THIS GUY" I LOVE DENNIS MCCARTNEY (yup I remembered his name finally) It was a wave of feelings I had NEVER had before. It was the feeling of safety and comfort and forever. I found him and knew he was meant for me.
While we were in Gitmo we had long days on the ship that were so GD hot and almost unbearable but once we were able to leave the ship at night it was a tropical paradise. We would get care packages from home filled with goodies but for some reason Dennis always ran to the post office and the packages would always be opened by the time he got back to the shop. He always shared with everyone. It was a fabulous time. Then one day while I was in our locker I found a hometown newspaper from Coleman MI tucked way in the back. I thought it would be fun to read something from Den's hometown so I pulled it out and I read it. What I read was a shock to me. There was a picture of Dennis and a girl named Valerie announcing their engagement! : ( Come to find out all the care packages were sent by her. When he asked me on a date the weekend I had duty he knew I had duty and that I wouldn't be able to go out with him and he was actually on his way to see HER in Indiana at Butler College. He was laying the ground work.
We arrived back in VA in September and he called her and explained the situation. I waited outside the payphone booths for more than an hour while he talked with her. The man I loved was breaking a heart for me. She sent back the engagement rings and yes I wore them because he had proposed to me while we were in Gitmo. We did trade them in for a my own set.
If I had to do it over again I would in a heartbeat. It was an extremely trying event for a young girl. I knew he would take care of me though. I never lost my love for him. So now 25 years later and lots of other trying times we are still one. We are by no means a perfect couple. What Dennis and I share is respect for each other and when we find ourselves in a predicament of not getting the respect we think/know we deserve, we speak up and let the other one know about it. This has saved our marriage over and over.
Dennis I love you with all my heart and there is no one else on this earth that could ever take your place. You are my bestest friend in the whole wide world and our journey together till the end will be forever cherished.
I want to tell everyone and anyone who reads this that my husband is my life. We have been together for 25yrs! One quarter of a century. We have grown to be almost one. We finish each others sentences. We call or text each other with the same thoughts. We make each other laugh everyday. We are each others best friends.
Dennis and I met on the USS Puget Sound in late May of 1986. We knew each other by our last names. He was McCartney and I was Jean. (Mary) Porter took me around the machine shop and introduced me to all the MR's. Petty Officer McCartney was the last one I met. There he stood. In his dungarees. I couldn't read his name that was stamped over the left breast pocket of his shirt because there was a full tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush and I believe some dental floss sticking out of his pocket. Porter says "McCartney this is Jean" McCartney immediately impressed me by doing "The Dance" Up on his toes his fists in front of him pumping. (think Pee Wee Herman, Tequila) He sang his name to me and then scooted off to dental for his appointment.
We worked with each other in the Machine shop and we talked and got to know each other. Other than "The Dance" The first thing he did I remember laughing at was he took a piece of paper that was long and thin and he made it swim in the air and with his best Jacques Cousteau impression he said "This is the male paper fish" I was smitten with his humor at that point.
As the days went on and I became more comfortable on the ship and got to know more people McCartney had started to show some interest in me by asking me on a date. One time he asked me and I had duty that weekend. Which meant I couldn't leave the ship at all. I had to stand watch. I thanked Paul for asking me though. (doh his name is Dennis. I could never remember that) It seemed every time he asked me I would already have plans. Until one day my plans happened to be going to the laundromat to do my laundry and he offered to bring me. McCartney had a car on base and I didn't so this would work out beautifully.
We got to the laundromat and got the laundry going and sat and talked and learned a lot about each other that night. When the clothes were in the dryer McCartney looked over and asked "What's that?" Well come to find out I had left and o.b. tampon in my pants pocket and it went through the wash and now was in the dryer but it was the size of a basketball and all fluffy going around and around and around. Hmmmm way to impress. McCartney saved a kitten from under a car that night too. He also took me to an Italian restaurant on Virginia Beach. After dinner we walked the beach and the sun was setting and we noticed on the waters edge there were lots of little jelly fish. We got our dog tags and started tapping the jellyfish and watched them glow a vibrant green. How cool that was! He drove me back to the ship and walked me to my berthing and said goodnight.
What the hell kind of date was that? He never tried to kiss me, he didn't even try to hold my hand. I must be a lousy date. This is embarrassing that I wasn't attractive enough for him to try any moves on me. Every other boy I had been on a "date" with wanted to be repaid somehow with some sort of sexual favor. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?
Before muster the next morning I was sitting in front of a horizontal boring machine and McCartney sat down next to me. He started a conversation and if any of you know me I have terrible comprehension issues. Whatever he had said to me doesn't matter at this point but my answer was totally off the wall and the look he gave me was priceless. Once I realized I misunderstood what he said I explained what I actually heard. To which he replied "oh you had a stupid attack?" Again I still did not comprehend what was said and answered with "No I'm not Italian." WOW! now the look on his face was beyond priceless. We had our first long big laugh together. And I got a sparkle in my eye for him.
McCartney and Jean became an item. We had our first kiss after a date to go see 'Top Gun' I initiated it. We were in his 1966 Dodge Polara that I was shocked to find out was his. I had been walking the parking lot for a month and would always stop and look at this red Dodge. I loved it but thought whomever owned it was a slob because there was always laundry hanging over the seats and he had 2 house speakers in the back seat. I was so happy and having so much fun.
In August the ship went to Gitmo to train for battle. Before we left Dennis and I were out sitting on the trunk of his Polara just talking and I jumped down and turned around to him and hugged him and realized "I LOVE THIS GUY" I LOVE DENNIS MCCARTNEY (yup I remembered his name finally) It was a wave of feelings I had NEVER had before. It was the feeling of safety and comfort and forever. I found him and knew he was meant for me.
While we were in Gitmo we had long days on the ship that were so GD hot and almost unbearable but once we were able to leave the ship at night it was a tropical paradise. We would get care packages from home filled with goodies but for some reason Dennis always ran to the post office and the packages would always be opened by the time he got back to the shop. He always shared with everyone. It was a fabulous time. Then one day while I was in our locker I found a hometown newspaper from Coleman MI tucked way in the back. I thought it would be fun to read something from Den's hometown so I pulled it out and I read it. What I read was a shock to me. There was a picture of Dennis and a girl named Valerie announcing their engagement! : ( Come to find out all the care packages were sent by her. When he asked me on a date the weekend I had duty he knew I had duty and that I wouldn't be able to go out with him and he was actually on his way to see HER in Indiana at Butler College. He was laying the ground work.
We arrived back in VA in September and he called her and explained the situation. I waited outside the payphone booths for more than an hour while he talked with her. The man I loved was breaking a heart for me. She sent back the engagement rings and yes I wore them because he had proposed to me while we were in Gitmo. We did trade them in for a my own set.
If I had to do it over again I would in a heartbeat. It was an extremely trying event for a young girl. I knew he would take care of me though. I never lost my love for him. So now 25 years later and lots of other trying times we are still one. We are by no means a perfect couple. What Dennis and I share is respect for each other and when we find ourselves in a predicament of not getting the respect we think/know we deserve, we speak up and let the other one know about it. This has saved our marriage over and over.
Dennis I love you with all my heart and there is no one else on this earth that could ever take your place. You are my bestest friend in the whole wide world and our journey together till the end will be forever cherished.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Tub Time
Oh boy I love this story..because it's funny to me and being a mother it makes me laugh even more.
Let's see I was young enough to not be taking showers yet so I'm gonna guess we are going back to 1972. I loved bath time. I adored bath time. Bath time was an adventure for me.
Who had a fisher price houseboat? I did! I would sit in the tub till the water was cold pretending to eat the lobster off the picnic table.
I used to take one of these in the tub and a special guest none other than Mr. Bubble himself.
Wouldn't you? I mean isn't that what that handle is for? Yeah I found out the hard way that the handle was only for a washcloth to hang onto, not a 70 lb 5 yr old. I was all muscle. This is the hard way. I've got a monkey grip on the 'washcloth' bar. I've got my entire body lifted above the waterline and CRASH....Now my entire body is back in the water and I'm still holding onto the 'washcloth' bar. Oh yeah and there is a huge gaping hole in the wall where the soap dish used to be.
Let's see I was young enough to not be taking showers yet so I'm gonna guess we are going back to 1972. I loved bath time. I adored bath time. Bath time was an adventure for me.
Who had a fisher price houseboat? I did! I would sit in the tub till the water was cold pretending to eat the lobster off the picnic table. 
I used to take one of these in the tub and a special guest none other than Mr. Bubble himself. 
I would turn the colander upside down and shake it back and forth and make enough bubbles to hide myself in. If I forgot the colander I would simply turn my back to the faucet so I was facing the back wall and dig the water through my legs like a dog digging a hole right in the middle of the lawn... that turned out super sized bubbles. That was me thinking outside the box.
How about the crazy foam!?
I had a couple of the crazy foams. I'm sure the Easter Bunny had left them. This wasn't regular purchase obviously.
Now let's get to the funny part. I used to like to try and crawl up the walls of the shower too. I know, wet tiles aren't very climber friendly but it gave me a great workout. Another workout for me was to hold onto the soap dish and lift myself out of the water.
Next thing I know I've got an audience in the bathroom asking me what happened. Still holding onto the soap dish I calmly say "It fell off of the wall"
How my mother ever kept a straight face is beyond me but she made me think she believed me. At least that's what I remember. Contact my mother for a completely different version of this story.
Not to long after that the tiled bathroom shower was replaced with one of those fiberglass molded showers and glass sliding doors. Then I became an author because there is nothing more fun than writing on the steamed up shower doors.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Not a shart..full blown shit
Okay so this is yet another story of me losing control of some bodily function...
I was in 2nd grade. I think Ms. Miller was my teacher. She had a chalk board to sign your name on when you needed to use the restroom. Steven Smith was once signing his name and threw up all over the chalkboard. The teacher told us if it was ever an emergency to just GO to the restroom and not to bother signing our names.
There were 4 other classrooms that shared the same restroom. The girls room had one big stall and one sink so even though 4 girls could be signed out to use the bathroom only one was going to be able to really use it.
I remember signing my name on the chalk board but I don't remember the urgency of having to use the bathroom. I only remember walking into the bathroom and seeing Lynn Shea standing at the sink. I knew I was about to have a diarrhea but with the way I was brought up I certainly couldn't do something so disgusting when I knew there was a witness. Girls do not fart, poop and especially no female has EVER and I repeat EVER had diarrhea. Thanks Mother....
I was in total panic mode now. I was in the stall the door was locked but Lynn was STILL at the sink. I waited a bit longer and finally asked her to leave. She said she didn't have to. I begged her to leave..Please please leave..and then I couldn't hold it any longer and I filled my pants in less than half a second. I started crying and Lynn bolted. Damn her.
A teacher's aide came in shortly after and asked what was wrong because I was still crying. I told her I went to the bathroom in my pants. She put me in the search position. Facing the wall, hands over my head against the wall and legs spread and she patted my bottom and said "you don't feel wet". Well no duh I filled my pants with diarrhea. I'm wondering why she can't A. smell it and B. feel that my bottom was very pillowy and quite a bit larger than normal.
The teachers aide left the bathroom but told me to stay put. She came back a day later.... probably more like 15 mins but that's a long ass time for a 2nd grader to wait in the bathroom. I was told to go wait at the front door of the school and my mother will be here any minute to pick me up.
Well my mother never picked me up..a big yellow checkered cab with my sister Mary showed up out front and that was my ride home. I got in the back of the cab. My sister was in the front seat and she told the cab driver I pooped my pants. Well the cab driver forbid me to sit on the cab seats and pulled out this tiny little stool from the back of the front passengers seat. So there I sat with a dump in my drawers and those drawers must have been brand new because nothing ever leaked out the elastic leg bands.
I wonder if Lynn Shea remembers this story?
I was in 2nd grade. I think Ms. Miller was my teacher. She had a chalk board to sign your name on when you needed to use the restroom. Steven Smith was once signing his name and threw up all over the chalkboard. The teacher told us if it was ever an emergency to just GO to the restroom and not to bother signing our names.
There were 4 other classrooms that shared the same restroom. The girls room had one big stall and one sink so even though 4 girls could be signed out to use the bathroom only one was going to be able to really use it.
I remember signing my name on the chalk board but I don't remember the urgency of having to use the bathroom. I only remember walking into the bathroom and seeing Lynn Shea standing at the sink. I knew I was about to have a diarrhea but with the way I was brought up I certainly couldn't do something so disgusting when I knew there was a witness. Girls do not fart, poop and especially no female has EVER and I repeat EVER had diarrhea. Thanks Mother....
I was in total panic mode now. I was in the stall the door was locked but Lynn was STILL at the sink. I waited a bit longer and finally asked her to leave. She said she didn't have to. I begged her to leave..Please please leave..and then I couldn't hold it any longer and I filled my pants in less than half a second. I started crying and Lynn bolted. Damn her.
A teacher's aide came in shortly after and asked what was wrong because I was still crying. I told her I went to the bathroom in my pants. She put me in the search position. Facing the wall, hands over my head against the wall and legs spread and she patted my bottom and said "you don't feel wet". Well no duh I filled my pants with diarrhea. I'm wondering why she can't A. smell it and B. feel that my bottom was very pillowy and quite a bit larger than normal.
The teachers aide left the bathroom but told me to stay put. She came back a day later.... probably more like 15 mins but that's a long ass time for a 2nd grader to wait in the bathroom. I was told to go wait at the front door of the school and my mother will be here any minute to pick me up.
Well my mother never picked me up..a big yellow checkered cab with my sister Mary showed up out front and that was my ride home. I got in the back of the cab. My sister was in the front seat and she told the cab driver I pooped my pants. Well the cab driver forbid me to sit on the cab seats and pulled out this tiny little stool from the back of the front passengers seat. So there I sat with a dump in my drawers and those drawers must have been brand new because nothing ever leaked out the elastic leg bands.
I wonder if Lynn Shea remembers this story?
Monday, March 21, 2011
25 things I've NEVER done
This post is about things I've never done and hopefully most I will never do. I'm also using it as a segue into my next post.
1. I've never filled my bellybutton with tic-tacs
2. I've never shoplifted.
3. I've never liked puppy breath.
4. I've never eaten a booger.
5. I've never been to a male strip club.
6. I've never waxed my balloon knot.
7. I've never had sex in a cemetery.
8. I've never eaten a banana in one bite.
9. I've never worn eye glasses.
10. I've never pierced anything but my ears.
11. I've never worn a string bikini.
12. I've never tried heroin.
13. I've never been skydiving.
14. I've never been bitten by a dog.
15. I've never been homeless.
16. I've never dumpster dived.
17. I've never packed lint in my ear.
18. I've never changed my tampon at the beach.
19. I've never got a job I had to test for.
20. I've never been to jail.
21. I've never hooked up with a teacher.
22. I've never eaten chicken feet.
23. I've never been scuba diving.
24. I've never had a broken bone.
25. I've never sharted.
Ahhh I'm done..I've had discussions with people about #25. Most don't believe me. But I honestly have never Sharted. But I did poop my pants in 2nd grade. Stay tuned for that story in my next post!!
1. I've never filled my bellybutton with tic-tacs
2. I've never shoplifted.
3. I've never liked puppy breath.
4. I've never eaten a booger.
5. I've never been to a male strip club.
6. I've never waxed my balloon knot.
7. I've never had sex in a cemetery.
8. I've never eaten a banana in one bite.
9. I've never worn eye glasses.
10. I've never pierced anything but my ears.
11. I've never worn a string bikini.
12. I've never tried heroin.
13. I've never been skydiving.
14. I've never been bitten by a dog.
15. I've never been homeless.
16. I've never dumpster dived.
17. I've never packed lint in my ear.
18. I've never changed my tampon at the beach.
19. I've never got a job I had to test for.
20. I've never been to jail.
21. I've never hooked up with a teacher.
22. I've never eaten chicken feet.
23. I've never been scuba diving.
24. I've never had a broken bone.
25. I've never sharted.
Ahhh I'm done..I've had discussions with people about #25. Most don't believe me. But I honestly have never Sharted. But I did poop my pants in 2nd grade. Stay tuned for that story in my next post!!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Ticks
Just the other day some friends of mine suggested we go up North again this year for my birthday. OK let's do it but let's find a place without ticks or bedbugs. Whatever that bug on me was I don't want to see one wherever we stay this time.
So while we were discussing what kind of bug it was, I started thinking about all the times I have had a tick on me. Three times to be exact. The only other relationships I've had with ticks are when I was very young and my dog Cindy had some on her and I'm pretty sure a burning, blown out match was involved in the removal of that one. So there is a huge fear of these bloodsucking monsters deep down inside my gut.
First time I found a tick on me was in 1985. I had just stepped out of the shower. I grabbed the towel hanging on the bar and started the routine of drying off. I don't know about you guys but I dry myself off the same way every time. Starting with my hair I squeeze most of the dripping water out then I grab two corners of the towel and drag the towel down my back. I let go of one corner and bring it around front and YIKES WTF IS THAT OMGOSH MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!
Mother comes running to the bathroom to chase off the Boogeyman but what she found was wayyy worse than the Boogeyman. There was a tick on my hip. It was a fat sucking tick not a blood sucking one. She shooed it away with a broom. No just kidding..luckily it hadn't attached itself yet. So she just brushed it off.
Now it's 2000 and Dennis and I are in Andover MA at the Stevens Estate for a wedding. We stayed the night there and in the morning we walked the grounds. It was beautiful..lots of wooded trails and we decide to go off trail and into a field of tall grass and flowers to take some pictures. When we arrived back at the estate we were packing and getting ready to leave so I changed my pants and HOLY MFIN WTF IS THAT DEEEENNNNIIIISSSSS! another sunuva bitchin tick. But this was a blood sucking one because I was pretty damned skinny back then. Den got his gun out and the tick took off. He is my hero.
Okay so last year me and Dennis and our friends Tom and Teresa went up north to Paradise, MI on my birthday weekend. Saturday morning we woke up to the looks of a blizzard. We left the cabin to go for a 4 mile hike on the Tahquamenon Falls. It was sooo nice. I mean it really was a perfect day. It ended with delicious steaks and asparagus cooked over the fire outside the cabin on Lake Superior. The food the view and the company were more than anything I could ask for. We cleaned up the kitchen and I went to the bedroom and put jammies on and sat and watched t.v. Three beers later it's time for a potty break and I get up and go to the bathroom pull my pajama bottoms down because I'm not into peeing my pants any longer and OMGOSH WTF IS THAT AHHHHHH DENNIS OMG HELP HELP HELP! I was able to catch the basterd in a kleenex and throw it in the toilet before Den got all the way in the bathroom to save me.
After that last tick episode I've been wondering to myself if it were really a tick or a huge bedbug. It all happened so fast and I destroyed the evidence with a flush. It was much too cold for a tick to be outside that time of year. But I've been told you can't see bedbugs. I think I saw one.
So while we were discussing what kind of bug it was, I started thinking about all the times I have had a tick on me. Three times to be exact. The only other relationships I've had with ticks are when I was very young and my dog Cindy had some on her and I'm pretty sure a burning, blown out match was involved in the removal of that one. So there is a huge fear of these bloodsucking monsters deep down inside my gut.
First time I found a tick on me was in 1985. I had just stepped out of the shower. I grabbed the towel hanging on the bar and started the routine of drying off. I don't know about you guys but I dry myself off the same way every time. Starting with my hair I squeeze most of the dripping water out then I grab two corners of the towel and drag the towel down my back. I let go of one corner and bring it around front and YIKES WTF IS THAT OMGOSH MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!
Mother comes running to the bathroom to chase off the Boogeyman but what she found was wayyy worse than the Boogeyman. There was a tick on my hip. It was a fat sucking tick not a blood sucking one. She shooed it away with a broom. No just kidding..luckily it hadn't attached itself yet. So she just brushed it off.
Now it's 2000 and Dennis and I are in Andover MA at the Stevens Estate for a wedding. We stayed the night there and in the morning we walked the grounds. It was beautiful..lots of wooded trails and we decide to go off trail and into a field of tall grass and flowers to take some pictures. When we arrived back at the estate we were packing and getting ready to leave so I changed my pants and HOLY MFIN WTF IS THAT DEEEENNNNIIIISSSSS! another sunuva bitchin tick. But this was a blood sucking one because I was pretty damned skinny back then. Den got his gun out and the tick took off. He is my hero.
Okay so last year me and Dennis and our friends Tom and Teresa went up north to Paradise, MI on my birthday weekend. Saturday morning we woke up to the looks of a blizzard. We left the cabin to go for a 4 mile hike on the Tahquamenon Falls. It was sooo nice. I mean it really was a perfect day. It ended with delicious steaks and asparagus cooked over the fire outside the cabin on Lake Superior. The food the view and the company were more than anything I could ask for. We cleaned up the kitchen and I went to the bedroom and put jammies on and sat and watched t.v. Three beers later it's time for a potty break and I get up and go to the bathroom pull my pajama bottoms down because I'm not into peeing my pants any longer and OMGOSH WTF IS THAT AHHHHHH DENNIS OMG HELP HELP HELP! I was able to catch the basterd in a kleenex and throw it in the toilet before Den got all the way in the bathroom to save me.
After that last tick episode I've been wondering to myself if it were really a tick or a huge bedbug. It all happened so fast and I destroyed the evidence with a flush. It was much too cold for a tick to be outside that time of year. But I've been told you can't see bedbugs. I think I saw one.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Meeting the Inlaws
I was hoping to save this post for a later date but I can't get it off my mind so now's the time..I guess.
I should warn anyone reading this that this story is bloody and may be too graphic for some. Read at your own risk.
It was July of 1987. I was still stationed in VA on board the Puget Sound. Dennis and I were living together off the ship and were preparing to fly to Michigan for his sister Tammy's wedding.
I had met his mother and father once before this when we drove to Coleman, MI before we left for a 6 month Mediterranean Cruise. But this time I was meeting EVERYONE! All of the Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Nieces, Nephews and family friends and neighbors.
Dennis wore his Navy Whites and I decided to wear civilian clothing to the wedding. It was a hot day in July and against my better judgement I also wore the dreaded pantyhose. My dress was a two piece, cotton, tan and brown tropical print. I was dying during the ceremony. There was no A/C in the church and you know me and my sweating problem..
So the ceremony is over and Dennis and I are standing out in front of the church trying to find a breeze somewhere. I was seriously so sweaty I thought about going home and changing outfits. ( I really should have)
But instead we left for the reception which was only about 15 miles away from Den's parents house where we were staying.
At the reception I was seated at one of the head tables because I was with the immediate family. On my right was Aunt Cele. She is Den's oldest Aunt. On my left was Den. The dinner was buffet style and I believe our table was the second to go. I stood up and followed Dennis to the line and behind me was Den's brother in law and also Den's Nephew. The food looked so good and I was so hungry I couldn't wait to get back to the table and NOM NOM NOM....
It may have taken about 10 to 15 mins to get my food and make my way back to the table serpentining through all the other guest tables. Just as I sit down Aunt Cele grabs my hand and leans into me and whispers "Diana are you menstruating?"
WTHECK!? Are you kidding me? So I'm not sweating? I am bleeding? OMG! OMG! OMG!....Please let those 70 year old eyes be deceiving her. So you're telling me I just walked through the buffet line with two men behind me and they couldn't say anything to me? Hell no.. and yes I'm going to say it "TYPICAL FN MEN" I walked from one end of the ballroom to the other and not one person could take me aside and tell me? I left the table Aunt Cele was sitting at and she obviously saw it as I walked away from her yet couldn't say anything till I got back? Please, Please this isn't happening is it?
It get's better.
Remember Dennis was wearing his Navy whites. Once he found out what the problem was he freaked out because he had sat in the seat I was sitting in and was terrified he may have the devils fluid on his white pants. Dennis's mother was being so helpful by going around to every table asking if anyone had a jacket or sweater I could tie around my waist because I started my monthly and had an accident and wanted to leave without anyone noticing. By this time everyone knew and I could no longer use the excuse that I was chased by an axe murderer and barely escaped with my life. I'm guessing at least 200 people..I got the jacket..tied it around my waist and did cart wheels to the door so I wouldn't look so obvious. No I didn't do cart wheels but do you really think it would have been any less conspicuous?
Dennis drove me to his parents house in his 1966 Dodge Polara that had white leather interior. He suggested I ride in the trunk. He certainly didn't want that 'stuff' on his car seats. I got home..jumped in the shower changed into an even more flashy outfit. Orange pants and a pink patterned top..went back to the reception and danced the rest of the night.
I never did eat my dinner.
I should warn anyone reading this that this story is bloody and may be too graphic for some. Read at your own risk.
It was July of 1987. I was still stationed in VA on board the Puget Sound. Dennis and I were living together off the ship and were preparing to fly to Michigan for his sister Tammy's wedding.
I had met his mother and father once before this when we drove to Coleman, MI before we left for a 6 month Mediterranean Cruise. But this time I was meeting EVERYONE! All of the Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Nieces, Nephews and family friends and neighbors.
Dennis wore his Navy Whites and I decided to wear civilian clothing to the wedding. It was a hot day in July and against my better judgement I also wore the dreaded pantyhose. My dress was a two piece, cotton, tan and brown tropical print. I was dying during the ceremony. There was no A/C in the church and you know me and my sweating problem..
So the ceremony is over and Dennis and I are standing out in front of the church trying to find a breeze somewhere. I was seriously so sweaty I thought about going home and changing outfits. ( I really should have)
But instead we left for the reception which was only about 15 miles away from Den's parents house where we were staying.
At the reception I was seated at one of the head tables because I was with the immediate family. On my right was Aunt Cele. She is Den's oldest Aunt. On my left was Den. The dinner was buffet style and I believe our table was the second to go. I stood up and followed Dennis to the line and behind me was Den's brother in law and also Den's Nephew. The food looked so good and I was so hungry I couldn't wait to get back to the table and NOM NOM NOM....
It may have taken about 10 to 15 mins to get my food and make my way back to the table serpentining through all the other guest tables. Just as I sit down Aunt Cele grabs my hand and leans into me and whispers "Diana are you menstruating?"
WTHECK!? Are you kidding me? So I'm not sweating? I am bleeding? OMG! OMG! OMG!....Please let those 70 year old eyes be deceiving her. So you're telling me I just walked through the buffet line with two men behind me and they couldn't say anything to me? Hell no.. and yes I'm going to say it "TYPICAL FN MEN" I walked from one end of the ballroom to the other and not one person could take me aside and tell me? I left the table Aunt Cele was sitting at and she obviously saw it as I walked away from her yet couldn't say anything till I got back? Please, Please this isn't happening is it?
It get's better.
Remember Dennis was wearing his Navy whites. Once he found out what the problem was he freaked out because he had sat in the seat I was sitting in and was terrified he may have the devils fluid on his white pants. Dennis's mother was being so helpful by going around to every table asking if anyone had a jacket or sweater I could tie around my waist because I started my monthly and had an accident and wanted to leave without anyone noticing. By this time everyone knew and I could no longer use the excuse that I was chased by an axe murderer and barely escaped with my life. I'm guessing at least 200 people..I got the jacket..tied it around my waist and did cart wheels to the door so I wouldn't look so obvious. No I didn't do cart wheels but do you really think it would have been any less conspicuous?
Dennis drove me to his parents house in his 1966 Dodge Polara that had white leather interior. He suggested I ride in the trunk. He certainly didn't want that 'stuff' on his car seats. I got home..jumped in the shower changed into an even more flashy outfit. Orange pants and a pink patterned top..went back to the reception and danced the rest of the night.
I never did eat my dinner.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Sweaty Betty
Fifth grade..Mr. Mercier's class at Ivan G. Smith Elementary School Danvers MA. I was wearing a yellow cowlneck top. I was sitting across from Billy Kearns and Matt County. I raised my hand to answer a question and Billy and Matt simultaneously pointed at my raised arm and said "SWEATY BETTY!".
UGH...Now what do I do? I know what I did do. I put my arm down and turned a nice shade of red and didn't say another word the rest of the day. I was 11 years old. I had already been wearing antiperspirant/deodorant for more than a year. My mother realized I needed it when I was at Camp Leslie for a week the previous summer and when she came to pick me up she could barely get next to me I stunk so bad. But what did I care? I was 10 and having lots of fun at summer camp.
This became a problem. The older I got the more I sweat. I started using Mitchum in the 7th grade to try and control the sweat. It didn't work. I pretty much suffered with the problem all through high school. I wish I still had the picture from my sophomore semi-formal. I had such a pretty red dress on and from my armpit to my waist on my right side I was soaked. (so much for pretty).
Fast forward to 3 yrs ago. While I was working at a dry cleaners a customer came in that was in the entertainment business. She wanted the underarms of her shirt to be paid special attention to because she had perspired so much in it while performing. I told her I had the same problem but all I had to do was be awake and I would be dripping. It was always worse under my right arm.
The information she told me next was some of the best news have ever heard in my life. She told me she was starting botox injections under her arms to stop the sweating. I had read about it years ago but it was so expensive I couldn't afford to have it done. She said her insurance covers it and I should look into it.
WOO HOO!! yes my insurance does cover it..apparently some executive at bcbs had the same Sweaty Betty nickname and she decided to make this a covered procedure so she didn't have to endure the name calling from her employees any longer.
So once every three months I go in and have botox injected in my underarms. I am so liberated now. I can wear anything I want now. I can wear a white shirt more than once and not leave a terrible yellow stain in it. I can wear all the colors of the rainbow and not be afraid to have a big ring of sweat showing. I don't have to stuff paper towels under my arm to soak up the sweat while I'm at work. I'm free..free at last..
UGH...Now what do I do? I know what I did do. I put my arm down and turned a nice shade of red and didn't say another word the rest of the day. I was 11 years old. I had already been wearing antiperspirant/deodorant for more than a year. My mother realized I needed it when I was at Camp Leslie for a week the previous summer and when she came to pick me up she could barely get next to me I stunk so bad. But what did I care? I was 10 and having lots of fun at summer camp.
This became a problem. The older I got the more I sweat. I started using Mitchum in the 7th grade to try and control the sweat. It didn't work. I pretty much suffered with the problem all through high school. I wish I still had the picture from my sophomore semi-formal. I had such a pretty red dress on and from my armpit to my waist on my right side I was soaked. (so much for pretty).
Fast forward to 3 yrs ago. While I was working at a dry cleaners a customer came in that was in the entertainment business. She wanted the underarms of her shirt to be paid special attention to because she had perspired so much in it while performing. I told her I had the same problem but all I had to do was be awake and I would be dripping. It was always worse under my right arm.
The information she told me next was some of the best news have ever heard in my life. She told me she was starting botox injections under her arms to stop the sweating. I had read about it years ago but it was so expensive I couldn't afford to have it done. She said her insurance covers it and I should look into it.
WOO HOO!! yes my insurance does cover it..apparently some executive at bcbs had the same Sweaty Betty nickname and she decided to make this a covered procedure so she didn't have to endure the name calling from her employees any longer.
So once every three months I go in and have botox injected in my underarms. I am so liberated now. I can wear anything I want now. I can wear a white shirt more than once and not leave a terrible yellow stain in it. I can wear all the colors of the rainbow and not be afraid to have a big ring of sweat showing. I don't have to stuff paper towels under my arm to soak up the sweat while I'm at work. I'm free..free at last..
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Jennifer Turner's 7th grade party
SO yeah this is a very revealing post. Not like the others haven't been but this is something I only recently told for the first time to someone other than my husband..He's so lucky to have me..back off guys I'm taken.
Okay I was at my mother's wedding reception. The reception was at the Cy Tenney Club which seems to be closed now.
I wasn't to thrilled about being there. I was with my cousin Sandra though and we were being extremely silly as usual. But what I really wanted to do was to get to Jennifer Turner's house. She was having one of the first boy girl parties of 7th grade.
I was wearing a blue two piece polyester dress and pantyhose. OOO I thought I was so grown up wearing pantyhose. I haven't put a pair of those things on in over 15 years. Anywho Sandra and I went to the ladies room and Sandra started making unladylike noises in the stall next to me. I of course started laughing..I still do laugh at unladylike noises. Stupid fn pantyhose wouldn't come down fast enough and guess what? You're so smart! How did you know? I peed my dress.
So I'm stuck at this reception with a pee soaked dress. You'd think I'd want to change my plans and just go home instead of going to that super cool 7th grade party. Nope not me. I went to that party. I sat on the stairway at this party for about 3 hours..I watched couples get together and makeout on the sofa and go into closets for 7 mins in heaven. Thank goodness I was never approached for a makeout session. (haha who am I kidding)
This is a picture of me and Sandra at the reception that night . I just realized the other picture I posted of us I was wearing blue and she was wearing pink.
This post really doesn't seem funny to me like the other pee posts. I think it's more gross because of my age at the time. This was also the beginning of the end of my pee problems. I had maybe one or two more in my teens after this episode but I think I had started to smoke pot too and the laughter was out of control with that stuff :)
Okay I was at my mother's wedding reception. The reception was at the Cy Tenney Club which seems to be closed now.
I wasn't to thrilled about being there. I was with my cousin Sandra though and we were being extremely silly as usual. But what I really wanted to do was to get to Jennifer Turner's house. She was having one of the first boy girl parties of 7th grade.
I was wearing a blue two piece polyester dress and pantyhose. OOO I thought I was so grown up wearing pantyhose. I haven't put a pair of those things on in over 15 years. Anywho Sandra and I went to the ladies room and Sandra started making unladylike noises in the stall next to me. I of course started laughing..I still do laugh at unladylike noises. Stupid fn pantyhose wouldn't come down fast enough and guess what? You're so smart! How did you know? I peed my dress.
So I'm stuck at this reception with a pee soaked dress. You'd think I'd want to change my plans and just go home instead of going to that super cool 7th grade party. Nope not me. I went to that party. I sat on the stairway at this party for about 3 hours..I watched couples get together and makeout on the sofa and go into closets for 7 mins in heaven. Thank goodness I was never approached for a makeout session. (haha who am I kidding)
This post really doesn't seem funny to me like the other pee posts. I think it's more gross because of my age at the time. This was also the beginning of the end of my pee problems. I had maybe one or two more in my teens after this episode but I think I had started to smoke pot too and the laughter was out of control with that stuff :)
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The pee my sister reminds me of annually
Christmas Eve was always spent with my mother's side of the family. Which meant we went to Aunt Donna and Uncle Terry's house and I got to play with my cousin Kathleen and Cousin Sandra.
My cousin Sandra was another person in my life that made me laugh continuously. Proof is in the picture above. There we are the both of us and I'm about to bust with laughter.
So anyway it was Christmas Eve and apparently I had gotten into the spiked egg nog. I imagine I was 8 or 9. We were in her bedroom and I was sitting on the edge of the bed and without any notice..no laughter inducing fits, no bladder spasms... I just let it go.... on the bed.
I had to change out of my dress and into something probably the equivalent of mom jeans today. Even though it was my family I still remember the overwhelming shame I felt. Something i never felt when I laughed and peed.
So I'm pretty sure my sister Mary has reminded me of this incident every year on Christmas. "DeeDee have you had eggnog and peed on a bed yet today?"
This reminds me of the conversation Mary and I had yesterday. She asked if I remembered Dad taking me into the Green Apple not to be confused with The Golden Banana so I could pee. I did not remember that at all. She clearly remembered how she waited in the car for us. I told her I had never been there and it dawned on her that it was actually The Caberet, another strip club that was also located on rt 1 Peabody MA. And it looks like it still is. But it was next to Tropirana Aquarium supply store. Now that I DO remember! Which brings me back to how my mother always said to me "Diana you know where every bathroom on the North Shore is."
So anyway it was Christmas Eve and apparently I had gotten into the spiked egg nog. I imagine I was 8 or 9. We were in her bedroom and I was sitting on the edge of the bed and without any notice..no laughter inducing fits, no bladder spasms... I just let it go.... on the bed.
I had to change out of my dress and into something probably the equivalent of mom jeans today. Even though it was my family I still remember the overwhelming shame I felt. Something i never felt when I laughed and peed.
So I'm pretty sure my sister Mary has reminded me of this incident every year on Christmas. "DeeDee have you had eggnog and peed on a bed yet today?"
This reminds me of the conversation Mary and I had yesterday. She asked if I remembered Dad taking me into the Green Apple not to be confused with The Golden Banana so I could pee. I did not remember that at all. She clearly remembered how she waited in the car for us. I told her I had never been there and it dawned on her that it was actually The Caberet, another strip club that was also located on rt 1 Peabody MA. And it looks like it still is. But it was next to Tropirana Aquarium supply store. Now that I DO remember! Which brings me back to how my mother always said to me "Diana you know where every bathroom on the North Shore is."
Monday, March 7, 2011
My sister Laurie's Birthday
Today is my sister Laurie's birthday. She is 8 years older than I. This isn't so much a blog about her birthday but a blog of my memories of her.
My fondest memory of her is that she taught me to read by letting me get into bed with her and reading her Dudley Dooright Sheets. Most likely this was on Saturday mornings. Nell and Snidely Whiplash and of course Horse were some of my first words I read.
Laurie had a friend named Becky Beauvais. Becky was always around..one time Laurie and Becky took me to the Big Beach. This was the ocean side of Plum Island not the basin side that our home was on... So that's why I called it the Big Beach. We were having fun I imagine until a tiny bug flew in my ear. A little tiny sand fly. Laurie tried getting it out and so did Becky. It was so far down in my ear I could hear it buzzing and it was itching and I was terrified it was going to go places that would end up needing surgery to retrieve the dang fly.. So we started to walk back home and I was screaming crying and a man came out of his house and asked what was wrong. After hearing that he looked in my ear stuck his finger in and pulled the fly out. Ohhh what a relief..
Not a good memory here but when I was around 7 I was in the bathroom one morning getting ready for school and there was a hand written letter laying on the counter. I took the time to read it when I should have been brushing my teeth. I could hear my mother yelling for me to hurry up so I wouldn't miss the bus. But I was ignoring her because the letter was from Laurie to my mother stating that she was running away from home. She asked my mother not to tell my father because he would be so disappointed. I was so scared..I didn't know if I should tell my mother or not. Well I never did tell my mother and she eventually found it later that day I'm sure.
I can't recall how long after that happened that I saw Laurie again. She did move back home many years later..I think I was 15...She brought her black lab named Ebon and her cat named Whiskey with her..We had a few good years. Then I joined the Navy and she hooked up with some horrible man that got her addicted to drugs to the point she didn't even recognize me or want a relationship with me anymore. John Kouchalaris..What a bad person he was and maybe still is..not sure if he is alive at this point.
My sister Mary and I went to MA when I was in my mid 20's to help Laurie out. She accepted the help and moved to FL with the rest of my family. She has been sober and drug free for many years and I love her to death. She makes me laugh a lot.
She suffers from Rheumatoid Arthritis something my Nana Jean suffered from too. She has a funny little dog named Talulah.
I wish Laurie many more Happy Birthdays. I LOVE YOU!
P.S. THE P.S. on the letter Laurie wrote said "sorry I took the toothpaste"
My fondest memory of her is that she taught me to read by letting me get into bed with her and reading her Dudley Dooright Sheets. Most likely this was on Saturday mornings. Nell and Snidely Whiplash and of course Horse were some of my first words I read.
Laurie had a friend named Becky Beauvais. Becky was always around..one time Laurie and Becky took me to the Big Beach. This was the ocean side of Plum Island not the basin side that our home was on... So that's why I called it the Big Beach. We were having fun I imagine until a tiny bug flew in my ear. A little tiny sand fly. Laurie tried getting it out and so did Becky. It was so far down in my ear I could hear it buzzing and it was itching and I was terrified it was going to go places that would end up needing surgery to retrieve the dang fly.. So we started to walk back home and I was screaming crying and a man came out of his house and asked what was wrong. After hearing that he looked in my ear stuck his finger in and pulled the fly out. Ohhh what a relief..
Not a good memory here but when I was around 7 I was in the bathroom one morning getting ready for school and there was a hand written letter laying on the counter. I took the time to read it when I should have been brushing my teeth. I could hear my mother yelling for me to hurry up so I wouldn't miss the bus. But I was ignoring her because the letter was from Laurie to my mother stating that she was running away from home. She asked my mother not to tell my father because he would be so disappointed. I was so scared..I didn't know if I should tell my mother or not. Well I never did tell my mother and she eventually found it later that day I'm sure.
I can't recall how long after that happened that I saw Laurie again. She did move back home many years later..I think I was 15...She brought her black lab named Ebon and her cat named Whiskey with her..We had a few good years. Then I joined the Navy and she hooked up with some horrible man that got her addicted to drugs to the point she didn't even recognize me or want a relationship with me anymore. John Kouchalaris..What a bad person he was and maybe still is..not sure if he is alive at this point.
My sister Mary and I went to MA when I was in my mid 20's to help Laurie out. She accepted the help and moved to FL with the rest of my family. She has been sober and drug free for many years and I love her to death. She makes me laugh a lot.
She suffers from Rheumatoid Arthritis something my Nana Jean suffered from too. She has a funny little dog named Talulah.
I wish Laurie many more Happy Birthdays. I LOVE YOU!
P.S. THE P.S. on the letter Laurie wrote said "sorry I took the toothpaste"
Friday, March 4, 2011
wetting my shorts..it was summertime.
okay so this was the summer of maybe 82 or 83, whenever Superman was released in the theaters.
My friend Holly and I had finished watching the movie and were standing outside waiting for my mother to pick us up. It was probably 7 or 8 o'clock at night. It was nice and warm and it was raining outside so we stood under the overhang of the plaza that the theater was located in. This was in Newburyport, MA near the Shaws grocery store.
While we were waiting there were some boys we thought were cute so we stood real pretty looking, trying to impress them. I know I was wearing yellow terry cloth shorts.
Does anyone remember the commercial for Kibbles and Bits where the dogs are running home singing "Kibbles and bits, kibbles and bits, I'm gonna get me some kibbles and bits"? Well if you do, Holly made me laugh so hard because she knew we were going home to eat dinner and she heard my mother say she was making beans for dinner. Holly started singing "Baked beans, baked beans, I'm gonna get me some baked beans" Little did she know it was green beans being served, not baked beans.
Of course because I laughed so hard I lost control of my ..ya my bladder.. again. Hindsight is 20/20. If I could do it all over again I would have stepped out into the rain and wet my shorts. You see, my yellow terry cloth shorts didn't show any sort of wetness. What gave it away was the big puddle at my feet because remember we were standing under the overhang where no rain was hitting the ground..dry as a bone under there.and the wet footprints that lead out of that puddle leading to my mother's car was a dead give away. Way to impress those 13 yr old boys!!
My friend Holly and I had finished watching the movie and were standing outside waiting for my mother to pick us up. It was probably 7 or 8 o'clock at night. It was nice and warm and it was raining outside so we stood under the overhang of the plaza that the theater was located in. This was in Newburyport, MA near the Shaws grocery store.
While we were waiting there were some boys we thought were cute so we stood real pretty looking, trying to impress them. I know I was wearing yellow terry cloth shorts.
Does anyone remember the commercial for Kibbles and Bits where the dogs are running home singing "Kibbles and bits, kibbles and bits, I'm gonna get me some kibbles and bits"? Well if you do, Holly made me laugh so hard because she knew we were going home to eat dinner and she heard my mother say she was making beans for dinner. Holly started singing "Baked beans, baked beans, I'm gonna get me some baked beans" Little did she know it was green beans being served, not baked beans.
Of course because I laughed so hard I lost control of my ..ya my bladder.. again. Hindsight is 20/20. If I could do it all over again I would have stepped out into the rain and wet my shorts. You see, my yellow terry cloth shorts didn't show any sort of wetness. What gave it away was the big puddle at my feet because remember we were standing under the overhang where no rain was hitting the ground..dry as a bone under there.and the wet footprints that lead out of that puddle leading to my mother's car was a dead give away. Way to impress those 13 yr old boys!!
Had to go
This one was on a Sunday visit with my dad too. I'm trying to remember where we were coming from. I'm thinking it may have been mushroom picking but regardless we were in his car heading to Grampy and Nana Jean's house and I started to cry because I had toooooo, yup that's right, PEE. He quicky pulled to the side of the road and we went into the wooded area and I pulled my pants down and squatted.
Now for some reason I stuck my hand down between my legs and peed all over my hand. By doing that I diverted the stream and instead of going on the ground it went right back into my pants. WTH Diana? I might as well have just peed on his car seats.....OMG that reminds me of another story. a very recent story like maybe 2 years ago...let me know of you want to hear that one.
Now for some reason I stuck my hand down between my legs and peed all over my hand. By doing that I diverted the stream and instead of going on the ground it went right back into my pants. WTH Diana? I might as well have just peed on his car seats.....OMG that reminds me of another story. a very recent story like maybe 2 years ago...let me know of you want to hear that one.
Pee Pants
I revealed at work this week that I was a pants wetter when I was a young girl..But it's not what you think. The only time I ever peed my pants was when I was laughing hysterically. Which was A LOT.
Not to change the subject but I had an English teacher named Mr. Logan. He was a great story teller and was adamant about teaching his students that there are no such things as ALOTS. So everytime I use those words together I think of him.
Back to the bladder control issue...or lack of. The earliest memory of peeing my pants while laughing was a Sunday while visiting my dad. I believe I was 6 yrs old. It was a special day from what I can remember because of the fact my dad got the hand me down sofa from my Grandparents. It was green and still in great shape.
I'm trying to remember if my dad's apartment was a typical single guys apartment or what but all I know is it had a nice newish green sofa and we (my sisters and I) were in our glory sitting on it watching football with my dad while he drank his Schlitz.
Halftime comes around and now it's time for a tickle party. My dad was the best tickler. ..tickling is another thing kids like to do but as an adult NAH-AH!! kinda like the eating frost from the dumpcase and crawling under the bus seats. After reading my last post my co-worker announced she crawled naked under the bus seats. (WEIRDO) So yeah my dad starts tickling me on the newish sofa..You all know where this is going. I'm laughing and laughing and then I start telling him "I have to pee..I have to pee" This is where it turns into the story of "The Girl Who Cried Wolf" I guess I had said " I have to pee" on different occasions, when I really didn't have to pee, one too many times for his liking. Now that I think about it my mother always told me I knew where every bathroom was on the Northshore. I had to pee what can I say.
Can you guess what happened next? Do I really need to finish the story? I suppose for some of you I do. I peed my pants on the newish sofa. Not even a day old in his house and I christened it for him. If I know my sisters well enough I'm sure they marked that cushion and wouldn't ever sit on it again.
Stay tuned for more stories of wet pants in the future.
Not to change the subject but I had an English teacher named Mr. Logan. He was a great story teller and was adamant about teaching his students that there are no such things as ALOTS. So everytime I use those words together I think of him.
Back to the bladder control issue...or lack of. The earliest memory of peeing my pants while laughing was a Sunday while visiting my dad. I believe I was 6 yrs old. It was a special day from what I can remember because of the fact my dad got the hand me down sofa from my Grandparents. It was green and still in great shape.
I'm trying to remember if my dad's apartment was a typical single guys apartment or what but all I know is it had a nice newish green sofa and we (my sisters and I) were in our glory sitting on it watching football with my dad while he drank his Schlitz.
Halftime comes around and now it's time for a tickle party. My dad was the best tickler. ..tickling is another thing kids like to do but as an adult NAH-AH!! kinda like the eating frost from the dumpcase and crawling under the bus seats. After reading my last post my co-worker announced she crawled naked under the bus seats. (WEIRDO) So yeah my dad starts tickling me on the newish sofa..You all know where this is going. I'm laughing and laughing and then I start telling him "I have to pee..I have to pee" This is where it turns into the story of "The Girl Who Cried Wolf" I guess I had said " I have to pee" on different occasions, when I really didn't have to pee, one too many times for his liking. Now that I think about it my mother always told me I knew where every bathroom was on the Northshore. I had to pee what can I say.
Can you guess what happened next? Do I really need to finish the story? I suppose for some of you I do. I peed my pants on the newish sofa. Not even a day old in his house and I christened it for him. If I know my sisters well enough I'm sure they marked that cushion and wouldn't ever sit on it again.
Stay tuned for more stories of wet pants in the future.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Wicked Witch Of The West
Mother's second husband was originally a neighbor. He started hanging around when I was about 6 or 7 yrs old.
His wife was named Dena and they had a son named George.
Dena and George of course were disgruntled after having their husband and father leave them for the woman down the street.
My best memory of Dena was when I went to Purity Supreme grocery store with the neighbor man. There we were in the checkout line. I was standing behind him watching the conveyor belt run and making my fingers walk it. That's such a gross dirty thing to do like when I used to scratch the frost off the dump case that held meat at Your Market and eat it... or better yet I used to crawl under the bus seats. Kids are so innocently gross. So anyways There I stood waiting patiently and all of a sudden I hear an unknown voice yell at neighborman. They weren't kind words and they were extremely loud. Neighbor man yelled back "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE"
Soooo me being only 7 years old at the most I did know "hell" was a bad word. My fingers stopped walking on the belt. I looked behind me and there she stood....The Wicked Witch of the West. Then I witnessed something I still to this day have never seen a women do and that was Dena spitting in neighbor man's face. She had power behind that wad of saliva. It went over my head and landed right in his eyes.
The only other thing I remember about that trip to the grocery store is that I got a slim jim for the ride home.
His wife was named Dena and they had a son named George.
Dena and George of course were disgruntled after having their husband and father leave them for the woman down the street.
My best memory of Dena was when I went to Purity Supreme grocery store with the neighbor man. There we were in the checkout line. I was standing behind him watching the conveyor belt run and making my fingers walk it. That's such a gross dirty thing to do like when I used to scratch the frost off the dump case that held meat at Your Market and eat it... or better yet I used to crawl under the bus seats. Kids are so innocently gross. So anyways There I stood waiting patiently and all of a sudden I hear an unknown voice yell at neighborman. They weren't kind words and they were extremely loud. Neighbor man yelled back "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE"
Soooo me being only 7 years old at the most I did know "hell" was a bad word. My fingers stopped walking on the belt. I looked behind me and there she stood....The Wicked Witch of the West. Then I witnessed something I still to this day have never seen a women do and that was Dena spitting in neighbor man's face. She had power behind that wad of saliva. It went over my head and landed right in his eyes.
The only other thing I remember about that trip to the grocery store is that I got a slim jim for the ride home.
Monday, February 28, 2011
This is the one that everyone goes "NO WAY" to.
So when I was about 16 yrs old I was having a hard time with life at home and school was really, really stupid.
My mother was engaged to this moron named Paul. Ugh I really, really hated him. I was 16 and he was 40 something but I swear he was the biggest baby when he didn't get his own way. He was a paraplegic. He wore a colostomy bag and my sisters and I called him Pee Pee Paul. Not to his face of course. We weren't that mean. We also referred to this as my mother's Florence Nightingale stage of her life. Anywho her wedding date was set and all the matchbooks were ordered for the reception, but one thing was missing..a Maid Of Honor.
What made me hate him the most was when she and Paul left for a vacation on Easter weekend. Easter Sunday I sat at home alone eating ramen noodles. She pulled in the driveway in her car that she had converted so he could drive it yet I wasn't allowed to drive it and took cabs to work. She came in the house and told me to stop eating my ramens ( I think they were ham and green bean casserole flavored..you know holiday ramens right?) and bring the suitcases in from the car. That was the low point in my life I swear.
When my mother asked me to be Maid of Honor at her wedding to him (maybe she thought buying me a dress would change my attitude.. who knows) I wrote a long letter to her telling her I would be a hypocrite if I were to stand up for her.. and left it on the kitchen counter and hit the road for a couple of days. My version of running away. I think I made it to Worcester that day and then a few day later I made it back to Beverly and was staying with my sister.
Sometime later.. a day, a week, I'm really not sure about the time frame.. my sister and I went to the Navy recruiting station in Salem. We sat and talked to Chief Petty Officer Grubbs. He told me I was eligible to enlist even though I was NOT a high school graduate but because I was not 18 I did need my mother to sign me in. I would have had my father do it but he died when I was 8.
Mother went to the recruiting station and met Chief Petty Officer Grubbs. She signed me in and I left for boot camp December 23rd 1985. I met my husband while stationed on board the USS Puget Sound. We married August 29th 1987. I was honorably discharged September 17th 1987. I stood as Matron of Honor at my mothers wedding when she married Chief Petty Officer Grubbs.....
My mother was engaged to this moron named Paul. Ugh I really, really hated him. I was 16 and he was 40 something but I swear he was the biggest baby when he didn't get his own way. He was a paraplegic. He wore a colostomy bag and my sisters and I called him Pee Pee Paul. Not to his face of course. We weren't that mean. We also referred to this as my mother's Florence Nightingale stage of her life. Anywho her wedding date was set and all the matchbooks were ordered for the reception, but one thing was missing..a Maid Of Honor.
What made me hate him the most was when she and Paul left for a vacation on Easter weekend. Easter Sunday I sat at home alone eating ramen noodles. She pulled in the driveway in her car that she had converted so he could drive it yet I wasn't allowed to drive it and took cabs to work. She came in the house and told me to stop eating my ramens ( I think they were ham and green bean casserole flavored..you know holiday ramens right?) and bring the suitcases in from the car. That was the low point in my life I swear.
When my mother asked me to be Maid of Honor at her wedding to him (maybe she thought buying me a dress would change my attitude.. who knows) I wrote a long letter to her telling her I would be a hypocrite if I were to stand up for her.. and left it on the kitchen counter and hit the road for a couple of days. My version of running away. I think I made it to Worcester that day and then a few day later I made it back to Beverly and was staying with my sister.
Sometime later.. a day, a week, I'm really not sure about the time frame.. my sister and I went to the Navy recruiting station in Salem. We sat and talked to Chief Petty Officer Grubbs. He told me I was eligible to enlist even though I was NOT a high school graduate but because I was not 18 I did need my mother to sign me in. I would have had my father do it but he died when I was 8.
Mother went to the recruiting station and met Chief Petty Officer Grubbs. She signed me in and I left for boot camp December 23rd 1985. I met my husband while stationed on board the USS Puget Sound. We married August 29th 1987. I was honorably discharged September 17th 1987. I stood as Matron of Honor at my mothers wedding when she married Chief Petty Officer Grubbs.....
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