Sweet Revenge?

I recently saw the previews for a TV show called "Revenge".  I had never seen the show, but the previews showed a woman who was living her life to revenge the death of her father.  This got me thinking.

What kind of mind does it take to do that?  I've seen people take revenge on someone else, on a small scale.  Their love breaks up with them and they tell anyone that will listen something that should have been left between the two of them.  Sometimes people lay claim an unrelated incident as revenge.  Like the time you loaned someone money, and they never paid you back.  And then you hear about their water heater giving out and feel that pang of sweet revenge.  It's not really revenge, but you lay claim to it anyway like a badge of honor, proof that you got revenge without having to lift a finger.  I'm guilty of this sometimes.  Someone treats me badly and I relish in hearing about how they tripped and fell.  It's that thing we all do to assure ourselves that the the bad treatment we get is, in turn, reaped by our offender.

But this TV show is about a girl who uprooted her life, moved to the place where her father lived, and went about intertwining her life with his wrong-doers.  Apparently, she is finding their weak spots and preying on them, including bedding the son of the woman who allegedly killed her father.  Sorry folks, I just can't do all that.

First of all, I hate moving.  So If the first step of my revenge involves moving to a place where I don't know a soul, I take it as a big sign that this whole process is going to suck.  Secondly, I have to meet and get involved with my father's killer's son.  Oh big whoop, how long is that gonna take, a day or two?  Do I really have to move for that?  Can't we just spend intermittent weekends together, and email often?  Finally, when he invites me over for Christmas Dinner, I can reveal myself in the middle of the whole thing as the daughter of the man his mother killed.  

See how unreasonable it all seems when you break it down like this?  I'm not sure how many seasons they're into this thing, but I'm pretty sure I can fit it into a Lifetime movie.  But the fact remains, I don't get it.  I'd rather just make a note to self and not trust that person anymore.  Now if they killed my father and were never convicted, I would eagerly await their slow, painful death of some debilitating disease.  But I'm not moving!

No Regrets?

I was talking to a friend recently about the changes he'd like to make in his life. Being much younger than I, he was dealing with things like grad school, work and relationships. I listened to his ideas, and offered up my opinion when asked. His main goal was to live his life with "as few regrets as possible".




I've often heard people say things to that effect. In fact, someone very close to me told me that if he could go back and change anything in his life, he wouldn't change a thing. Considering the unfortunate series of events that happened between the two of us, this isn't just a surprise, it's downright painful to hear.


At this point, I started thinking about my own regrets. I'm at the age where I've already learned from the curve balls life has thrown at me. Realizing this made me reflect back on things in my life that I wish I would have done differently. It was disturbing the sheer number of things that I would change if I could. Relationships, jobs, friends, family, even behaviors were all represented in my list of regrets. Some things were major, life-changing events. Others were innocuous things I wish I hadn't found my way into. For each of these things though, I had learned a very valuable life lesson that I wouldn't ever forget. As I like to say, I learned things the hard way. There were even things that I wish I could re-do, with no idea what I would do differently; I just knew it would be something other what had actually occurred.



After contemplating the regrets for a few days, I wondered why there were so many of them. I'm considerate of others, I'm a hard worker, and I try to treat others as I'd like to be treated. I was brought up with morals and firm grasp of what is right and wrong. Yet still, I live a life with regrets. Why? It slowly became evident to me that my regrets were my own personal barometer that measured right and wrong, wisdom and naivete, and well-thought plans and insanity. The more evident this became, the more satisfied I became with my regrets. I also was able to let go of some of the benign decisions and events. All this contemplating also made me realize that not everything I'd like to take another stab at was regrettable, so I took these things off my "List of Regrets". Of the regrets that remained, each "bad move" served a purpose, thereby dictating that I shouldn't want to do them over, but I knew I would change my actions if I could.



How do others go through life with no regrets at all? Can you ever really learn a valuable lesson if you don't have some sense of regret? If people have no regrets at all, does it give them carte blanche to misbehave? My own morals and integrity say no. But if anyone can teach me how to live life with no regrets, I'm eagerly awaiting your instruction.

Gone To The Crazies

I found myself thinking today about the ages of my kids. Both are well into child-having years. It's kind of rare, at least from what I see, that 25 and 23 year olds don't have kids these days. Naturally, that made me start thinking about what kind of grandmother I'd be. Ouch.

I decided to start by thinking about how grown-ups relate to me. Generally, I think people see me as a nice person. I have an awesome family and we're all really close. I'm very social; running around here and there, meeting friends for dinner or drinks or cultural events. I am recently coming out of a two-year relationship that ended amicably and we still see each other. I'm also your basic working woman who just got a promotion. I try to stay healthy by watching what I eat and walking almost everywhere. I have a handful of close friends that I like to hang with when I have free time and neither of us are doing anything else. I love music and perpetually have an ipod with me. I love reading, writing, and word games. I often try to sing the scale like I used to, and get incredibly frustrated. I know what's funny and can find humor in almost every situation. But then, there's that quiet part of me that includes a man that's burrowed himself in my heart in such a way that even though he's been gone from our lives for almost 20 years, I miss him every day.

If there's someone in need and I'm in a postion to help, I will. I volunteer at a Grieving Center because I think it's important that children have a place to go when someone in their family dies and they're having trouble dealing. In fact, my job revolves around helping senior citizens. With all that said, people come to me a lot for advice on what would be appropriate in any given situation because they know I always try to do the right thing. When I give that advice, I'm always brutally honest. That's exactly why people seek me out; they know that I'm going to tell it like it is and not sugar-coat anything. They come to me for advice on everything from their job to relationships. The process normally starts with a detailed accounting of their issue and ends with, "what do you think I should do?" See folks, I appreciate this question because what I would do may be totally different than what I think they should do. Most of the time, I wonder what the fuck they're doing in this situation in the first place. But I give my honest opinion of what I think they should do, and tell them why. I really don't expect people to do what I think is right all the time, and after I give them my advice I tell them to please do whatever is right for them, not me. Sometimes, I have to apologize because I've just told them they're acting like a moron, or that their self-esteem seems to be on vacation, or they're burning professional bridges.

I really don't like hurting peoples' feelings. But damn it, people do stupid shit. Seriously, why would someone let their boyfriend get away with farting on her because he thinks it's funny, even though she feels humiliated? Why does another adamantly refuse to get to work on time and then be perpetually worried about getting fired because of it? Why does a nice guy, who already has a nice girl who really cares about him, constantly cry about some skank who isn't calling him? Can anyone tell me if these are acceptable behaviors? Who drinks so much alcohol on their birthday that they finally admit that they might die and head to the emergency room 24 hours later? Oh wait, that last one is me.

What I'm trying to say is, when they ask me about situations like this, you better believe I tell it like it is. Here are a few examples. The farting response went something like, "you moved in with a guy who farted on you before you even moved in together. You picked him, now either move out, kick him out, or quit crying." Any professional advice would involve, "quit bitching and get another job where you make more money/have a better boss/can come in whenever you damn well please." When asked if I thought there was a good reason why the skank wasn't calling back, my response was, "you're 34 and would be too scared to introduce that stripper to your parents anyway. Now call Jane Doe. She's really cool, but I'm convinced she might be a little retarded for fucking with the likes of YOU."

Oh, and as for the birthday drunk, you would think that's a perfect example of why these people SHOULDN'T come to me for advice.

I thought about all these things because, remember, I was still trying to figure out what kind of grandma I'd be. Once I realized how adults saw me, it allowed me to know how my grandkids would see me. Now, kids always see you to the nth power. If you're a basically nice person, kids see you as Snow White. If you interact and play with them, they see you as Minnie Mouse. If you're stern, they see you as the Wicked Witch. And if you just say shit to a mother fucker that needs to hear it, well then... you're a lunatic.

All the normality, generosity, love and honesty just can't erase the fact that I'm going to be the drunk lunatic grandma. My poor, poor grandchildren.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Have you ever realized that you needed to make a change in your life? You know, a change like ending a friendship, getting a new job, or even updating your wardrobe? Every once in a while, we need to do this. It keeps us renewed, replenished and just simply aware of what's going on in our own lives. I decided it's time to make a change, and this is how I come upon this realization.

A co-worker asked me if I'd like to join a few others in drinks after work. I love a good happy hour so I readily agreed. The evening started out simply enough with cocktails celebrating the new Sex and The City movie. They had four signature cocktails inspired by the movie and although I didn't want to try all of them, I certainly was happy to sample a couple of them. And sample I did.

At last count, I had drank five cocktails. Mind you, I lost count at this point and you can bet I probably had more than those five. Two of the others had left and it was just me and the co-worker that had extended the invitation. We made our way over to another spot with drink specials. My memory at this point just stops and I have absolutely no recollection of what happened at the second spot. It returns later in the evening with me standing by the side of the road waiting for the bus. Of course, that bus wasn't coming. It was well after 1am, and they stop running at 12:30am.

I remember sitting to collect my thoughts and see several cabs drive by. That's it! I'll get a cab. My only other option is to walk up the hill, which is the only way for me to get home. There is no way I can navigate the high-grade, extremely winding road. I run across the street where I see the cabs coming from. A car halts directly in front of me.

Two men are in the car and they ask me if I need a ride. I say no, I'm going to get a cab. Apparently, I was quite intoxicated because they continued to ask me if I wanted a ride, even if just to the cab-stand. Once again, I decline. These two gentleman spoke to me in thick Russian accents. I had no idea who they are and I briefly imagine my own death at their hands. I start to walk away when one of them tells me they are genuinely concerned for my well-being. I finally accept.

They give me a ride home, which takes less than five minutes. I ask them to stop at an ATM so I can at least give them some cash for the ride. They do that, I give them $10, I go inside and presumably, they go home. In the morning, I awake to text messages from my co-worker asking me if I made it home alright, am I alive, and "way to disappear". I had no idea what she was talking about. A week or so later, she asked me to meet her at the second spot again, and I had to ask a friend where it was. Despite me being there for a few hours before, I had absolutely no idea where it was.

Folks, this was not good. I drank to excess, so much so that I don't remember a large block of time. I accepted a ride with complete strangers. I'm no spring chicken, I'm a woman by all definitions. But clearly, alcohol wasn't doing me any good. I knew I had to cut down drastically.

Since then, I've gone to plenty of happy hours. But I stop at my four-drink maximum. If I'm with VERY good friends, or my boyfriend, I pay less attention to this number. But when I'm with co-workers or acquaintances, I stick to it with a vengeance. I can't trust myself so I set limits and stick to them. I was told recently that I don't have an addictive personality and I thank heaven for that.

I realized I needed to make a change, and I made it. If I can do inventory on my own life from time to time, or even if something hits me like a ton of bricks, I know I can act accordingly and straighten myself out. Can you?

Weeding the Garden

Yesterday, I got a message on one of those social networking sites. It was from the daughter of a girl with whom I'd gone to high school. I was excited, because I had done a couple google searches of her name but never found anything. We had only gone to high school together for a year before my parents moved me across the country. We remained in touch throughout the years, but lost touch probably within the last 11 years.

Prior to this message, I found another old work chum on that same social networking site. She and I had formed a strong friendship over a period of several years. She ended up moving to another state and then so did I. When I did find her and we reconnected, I was excited that I had my old friend back.

Now that I've moved into adulthood and met new people, I recently started thinking about the people who are in my life for no particular reason. We may share texts, or emails, or maybe even a lunch or dinner together. But they're not really a friend that I'd count on if I ever needed anything, or vice versa. So what do I do with these people?

I slowly began to realize that I needed to start weeding out the people that are not essential to my life. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I am only getting rid of people that don't benefit ME somehow. It's mutual really. An example would be men who I dated before. I have a boyfriend, who I'm content with. They have wives or girlfriends, or maybe not, and at this point it's just not appropriate for us to be sending frivolous texts, emails or having meals together. Some are people who I knew in passing when I saw said men and when I do speak with them, it's about events in my past that I'm more than happy to leave in my past. Catch my drift here?

As I thought about these things, and made the decision to weed out certain individuals, I got a call from none other than my ex-husband. Turns out he and his girlfriend were having issues in their relationship and he wanted to talk to me about them. I'm not sure why folks. We were married for over 17 years but the marriage didn't end well and I realized he was a perfect candidate for being weeded out. I had no desire to talk to him about anything at all, much less his relationship problems.

I don't know what made him think it was appropriate for him to consult me, so I can only assume that maybe *I* made him think that. I put an end to it. I asked him to stop calling me, and more importantly, I asked him not to bring me up in any conversations he had with his girlfriend. We have both moved on to other relationships and relying on each other for anything is not necessary. Some of you may think that because he spent so much time with me, he felt that he could count on me to tell him the truth, or understand where he was coming from. Well, that's true. And because he can count on me to tell him the truth, I told him I didn't want him in my life anymore, nor did I want to be in his life. This wasn't easy for me. There was a time when we had been in love, worked out problems together, and consulted each other on major life decisions. But we had grown up, he had become an addict, and it changed everything between us. Where there was once trust and love, there was now suspicion and disdain.

This first weed-pull was especially hard. It forced me to see my life as it is now, as opposed to how it was just three years ago. Moving forward requires logical thinking with little to no emotional consideration. It's a whole new world for me. One weed down, so many more to go.

The "C" Word

Today my sister told me she has cancer. I am upset and depressed. Others in my shoes would be optimistic, hopeful and positive. I know this, because I once was like this. 18-1/2 years ago, when my husband was diagnosed with cancer, all those things applied to me. But as those three short months went by and he lost his battle before my eyes, I became hardened.

Let me make this clear, I want to be optimistic, hopeful and positive. I want to feel that way more than I can say. But I don't. All I can do is cry. Because I know all the hoping and praying and pleading won't change the outcome. It reminds me of Steelers fans. They have these crazy superstitions when it comes to what they do/wear/eat during a football game. Some of them have a special way they lay their terrible towel on top of the TV. Others have a good luck jersey. Some of them only eat wings made from Frank's Hot Sauce. Whatever their superstition is, they believe doing/wearing/eating that will make the Steelers win. But really the Steelers will win or lose regardless. And that's how it is. Whether I'm optimistic or pessimistic, hopeful or cynical, positive or negative, what will be will be.

But my sister. My sister. She's the world's greatest mom. A much better mom than I could ever hope to be. First of all, she's a stay-at-home mom. She's ever-present in her children's lives. She makes sure each one of her kids has their own personality and she caters to their preferences. I encourage independence in my kids. She's devoted to her family. I remember once her husband wanted to move from L.A. to Vegas. My sister wouldn't do it. She couldn't be away from her parents. I moved across the country without a thought.

To make a long story short, when my sister told me about this cancerous lump, I was in the middle of my own health crisis. But I automatically thought, "Why HER? She doesn't deserve this. I can handle it, not her". But things will be as they should no matter what I do, wear, or eat.

So I sit here and cry. Because that's what I feel like doing. I don't want my sister to have to go through this. I want her to go shopping at Sam's Club. I don't want her to have to pray quietly before her surgery that things go well. I want her to go to her PTA meetings. I don't want her husband and children to worry about her. I'd rather they wonder what's for dinner.

But things will happen as they happen. And I am upset.

What's Your Music Timeline?

Ever notice how music can take you back to a specific moment in time? I was in the car with my favorite sidekick cranking my ipod. I have a great Party Mix playlist that has everything from Sublime to the Ohio Players to Justin Timberlake to Snoop Dogg to.... you get the picture. To be in my Party Mix, you have to be a song that you either want to hear while you're on your way to a party, or at the party itself. As you know, no self-respecting Party Mix would go without Flashlight by Parliament. My Party Mix has self-respect. So on this specific day, when my sidekick heard the guitar at the beginning of Flashlight, he said (as he's said every single time he hears said guitar riff), "did I ever tell you about the time I performed this when I was in junior high....". And he proceeded to tell me the story yet again.

Later, when Give It Away by the Red Hot Chili Peppers came on, I told him (probably for the gazillionth time) how it reminds me of my friend Keith. Keith died last year and so that song takes me back to a particular Happy Hour when a few of us got in someone's car and that song came on the radio. We all started bobbing to the music and when we realized what we were all doing, we collectively started laughing.

I loved spending time with Keith and Ken, my two sales buddies. Ken and I still are friends. He and I both like the Rolling Stones. We agree that they're much cooler than the Beatles. I told him about how my dad used to play their High Tide and Green Grass 8-track in his Chevy Van back in the early 70's. Whenever we were on a long road trip, my dad would crank that puppy up. To this day, I love that music. It takes me back to the roots of my life. The fact that he liked the Rolling Stones (and still does) automatically makes my dad cool to Ken, who has never met him.

My daughter used to do ethnic dancing. I say ethnic because some of it was Arab, some Spanish, but most was Mexican. She performed in shows at the L.A. County Fair, charity events, weddings, etc. Every year she performed in a big show that included all the children that the instructor taught. This was the only show for which you had to buy a ticket. They had it at a large auditorium and a live Mariachi band would play during a few songs while the girls danced. One particular song was called "La Negra" and every time I'd hear it, I'd get goosebumps, teary-eyed and I'd be filled with pride for my ethnicity. While they danced to this song, the girls wore the traditional Mexican dresses and made them flow to the music while they stomped their feet to the beat. I was so proud that this little white daughter of mine had pride in her ethnicity. Nowadays, whenever I hear La Negra, it takes me back to that box seat at the San Gabriel Civic Auditorium.

About 18 years ago, I mecca'd from Los Angeles. back to Lansing, Michigan (where I was born). I spent the summer there hanging out with the friends I'd left just a year before when my family moved across the country. While I was there, we spent a whole lot of time partying. We were young, restless, and literally had no cares in the world. There was an older lady (probably my age now) who used to let us come over and hang out with her son and his friend. Aside from the partying, it was all very innocent. We'd put on records (yup, full blown long playing records) and play Eucher. I could never play Eucher now, I'd have to relearn the game. But I'm pretty sure I still remember all the words to Van Halen II, and REO Speedwagon's You Can Tune a Piano But You Can't Tuna Fish". We would go down to her basement, someone would put those two albums on the turntable and turn it on. We knew every song from both sides. Sometimes we'd mix it up with some Styx or maybe Bob Seger, but that was rare.

When I was a kid, I loved Lady Marmalade by Labelle. To this day, I can't figure out why my parents let me play that record over and over and over again. If you know my parents, you'll understand why I say that. If you don't know my parents, suffice it to say they are religeously conservative. When I hear the words, I just shake my head now. Either they never listened to them, or they figured I had no idea what they meant (I didn't).

The things I've mentioned in this blog aren't necessarily important, life-changing moments. But whenever I hear any song that reminds me of a certain person or time frame, well, it makes that person or time significant. What does your life music timeline look like? Whether it's rock, hip-hop, ska, country, alternative, reggae, or even ethnic, it's full of moments in your life that are waiting their turn to come to your memory.