Come Visit Me!

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A Bronx Tale

For those of you who have been with me from the beginning, you know that in my family there are no shortages of bizarre stories to be heard, and always, it seems, from my dad.  All along I've peppered you with Jillisms and things that can only happen to Jill.  I don't know why it never occurred to me that this was an inherited disorder!  Holy crap, she inherited it from Dad and I never put two and two together.  Maybe I'm not the smart sister after all.

A couple of days ago my parents came over for a visit and Dad got into one of his storytelling modes.  I told him I was whipping out my camera so I could get this online for posterity and that's exactly what I did.  I'm not quite sure Dad heard the getting this online part though, because when Jimmy mentioned to him later that he'd now be famous smeared across the internet, he kinda- sorta threatened to kill me.  But that can't be right.  I mean, he's my Dad.  He'll be happy that I revere him enough to share him with my hundreds six readers.  Right?

The story I have for you today is one of my favorites.  I've been hearing it on and off since childhood and my mother swears it's the truth, so it must be.  Also, each story that my father tells never deviates from the original, so they must all be true.  Right?

I guess he feels it's time to share these stories with his grandchildren.  Check out Mikayla as she stuffs her face with salad while listening with rapt interest.



I give to you, A Bronx Tale.

Darling Nikki

What's that saying?  When God closes a door He opens a window?  Who thought of that?  Because whoever it was, I'd like to personally slap them upside the head, 'cause in my humble opinion, it's pure crap.

I did, in fact have a door close on me last week, but it wasn't just a regular old door.  It was more the type you see in bank vaults.  Ya know, those super heavy steel doors with that huge spinny thing that locks it?  Yep, one of those slammed shut on me, but not before hitting me square in the face.  I think it broke my face too, 'cause it's not doing the things it normally does, like smile, laugh, crinkle with joy, etc., etc.  It does however, still leak tears, so all is not lost, I suppose.

Anyway, a couple of days after the big fucking door broke my face, a window opened.  Well, not quite a window... more like a porthole, and it wasn't even opened all the way, just enough to let a refreshing breeze in.

This metaphorical open window was actually in the form of a phone call from someone I haven't spoken to in nearly 20 years.  When I heard this person's voice it shocked me so bad that I was probably heard from blocks away screaming, "Are you kidding me?  Are you fucking kidding me?  I can't believe this!"  In fact, Mikayla banged on the window (I was out in the bitch cave) to tell me to crank it down a few notches.  My bad.

So who was it on the phone, you ask?

Well no, of course it wasn't Prince, or The Artist, or Symbol Man, or whatever the hell he goes by these days, but Prince and this person go hand in hand in my memories.

It was Darling Nikki on the phone.  No, not Darling Nikki of the song from the Purple Rain album, but my Darling Nikki.  My very best friend from high school.

We met in Mr. Greek's 9th grade Earth Science class and there was instant chemistry (Ooh, that just made me giggle... another science word) between us.  No one before or since has ever made me laugh as much as Nikki did.  From this point on we were inseparable and annoyingly loud.  All. The. Time.  We passed notes, talked about which teachers had the best bulges and had secret code words for things we didn't want other people to know about.  For example.  IF.  That means, "I farted."  Then there was SWAIN, but I can't for the life of me remember what that stood for.  "So what... something."  I'll have to ask Nikki.

We spent a lot of time in this room.  This was my house in NY, the basement that was turned into a den.  A dark, dank, damp, horribly decorated (even for 1984) room, but we loved spending time down there.

Nikki would walk home from school with me often and we'd immediately hit the fridge or pantry.  Nikki loved spending time at my house because of the over-abundance of food.  I'd blame it on us being Italian, but I think it had more to do with my mom thinking we'd have a nuclear attack, and if there wasn't enough pre-packaged food in the house, we'd have to resort to eating each other.  

After a snack... I remember eating lots of toast and cream cheese sandwiches... the two of us would lay on the damp, smelly, extremely ugly carpet to take a nap in front of the wood burning stove we had down there.  It was just to the left of that ultra groovy example of Early American Crap furniture we were sitting on.  Sometimes, if there wasn't a fire lit, we'd use the propane heater to keep warm.

Nikki dated Jimmy's best friend, Dave, for a while.  That didn't go so well.

Did I mention that we laughed a lot?  There was one night when Nikki slept over that we laughed so much, I wet my pants at least 7 times.  It may have been more.  I'll have to ask Nikki.

Okay, I know Nikki is reading this, so I have to ask, Nikki, do you remember working on our time line for Earth Science while sprawled out on my kitchen floor?  Do you remember that while you were drawing a fish (Nikki is a fantastic artist btw) all you did was say "bony fishies" and we cracked up so bad that my mom thought we were losing our minds?  Do you then remember that Mom started laughing so hard she fell off the kitchen chair?  

Man I love that memory.

Senior prom, 1988

Jimmy, Nikki and me, graduation day, 1988

Over the next couple of years our friendship deteriorated and I can't even remember exactly how it happened.  I do have one regret when it comes to Nikki... not something that I'll share with all of you, but she'll know what I'm talking about when she reads this.  It was the trip she took down to Florida, not long after I moved here with my parents.  Her visit turned into a total disaster, and again, I don't remember exactly why.  Nikki, I don't think I ever apologized to you for what happened that week.  No, not what happened... what I did.  From the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry.  It's one of my life's biggest regrets and embarrassments.

Here's a picture of me from that visit.  Nikki took this of me while we were on the Magic Kingdom ferry.  Don't say it.  I know.  I was frickin' hot.  And imagine, I thought I was fat at the time.  If only I could have seen 20 years into my future, maybe I would have enjoyed the body I was in at the time.

As Bob Hope used to say, "Thanks for the memories", Nikki.  Falling asleep to Prince's Purple Rain or Pat Benetar (yes, I still despise her), going to the duck pond, Sunday dinners at my house, laughing endlessly, and so much more.

These days Darling Nikki has five kids, is an EMT and a caterer.  I can't wait to speak to her again and find out if she's ever done anything with her artistic talent.  (Btw Nik, that naked portrait you sketched of me?  It was lost due to a leak years ago and I still miss it.  Wanna do another one?  Just kidding!)

Nikki, if you don't leave a comment here, I'll kick your ass, and I need you to email me (justwaaaa@aol.com) so that I'll have your email addy!

Btw... did I mention my face is broken?

Oh, one more thing...

IF!

Leave In Silence

Leave In Silence

On angels' wings, through crystal skies

On unseen currents with silent cries

Gliding with purpose from goodness and light

Searching for answers under cover of night

A star like a beacon promises all pain will cease

Pulling you closer with a false sense of peace

But the light that has drawn you no longer feels pure

Its tainted aura surrounds you with a sinister allure

Too late you realize you have to turn back

For the light of your star has gone suddenly black

Its beckoning beams were all but a ruse

Darkness presses in, constricting like a noose

The wings that had carried you furl in on themselves

For it's the place you'd just left where your happiness dwells.

Justine, 1-14-11

Constant Readers

Wow.  It's been so long since the last time I put up a real post that I'm not sure I know how to do it anymore.  I feel like I've let so much time go by that now all of the thoughts I've had over these past 8 months or so have flown right out of my head.  Or maybe they're all in there, but so jumbled up that I'll never be able to make sense of them again.

No matter really, as I've lost my .com and no one knows I've gone back to blogspot.  No matter really, because I've probably lost all of my followers by now as well.  I know that when I was actively blogging, if someone went months on end without posting, I removed them from my blog roll.  So, fair's fair and all that crap.

I've missed all of you... my Constant Readers (stealing that one from the great Stephen King), and I've missed the sense of community and extended family that blogging brought to me.  Most of all, I miss SHARING with all of you.

Something happened to me all those months ago, something that took away my ability to share, to write, to express myself.  I have no earthly idea what that something was, but it happened just the same.  One day I could tell a story and get a few giggles out of you, the next day... gone.

I'm sure that a whole lot has happened in my life in the past 8 months, but unfortunately, it's all a fog for me right now.  I'm still here, sitting in the bitch cave like always.  Jill is still my very best friend.  My family still makes me laugh and cry.  My girls are still wonderful and growing fast.  But I'M different.  I wish I could explain how, but I don't know myself.

I want to be a blogger again... I just don't know if I can.  It's a fairly sucky thing when you lose one of the only things you were halfway good at.

I shit you not.

On The Road To Womanhood... Wearing Roller Blades???

I went to bed Friday night the mother of a tween, but awoke the next morning the mother of a teen.  How scary is that?  Yes, Mikayla is a true teenager now, having turned 13 at 12:57 a.m. Friday night/Saturday morning.  Oh the horror!  I'm OLD now!

It's hard to believe that the tiny, 6 pound, 13 ounce baby that I delivered is now nearing womanhood.  I say nearing... she's still got plenty of growing to do!

Thinking back on that labor and delivery I can both laugh and cringe.  The pain!  Oh, the pain!  Why did I not get an epidural?  Having Mom and Jill in the room should have been so comforting to me, but the blasted pain was so bad that I was delirious for most of the labor.  Speaking unintelligibly, moaning and groaning as if that creature from Alien was in my belly, not a sweet, innocent baby.




And let us not forget the most profound thing uttered from my lips during labor.




"Doc!  My hoo-hoo HURTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"




But now look at her, my beautiful fiesty girl.

Always with the mismatched socks that match not her outfit, or even each other.

The child looks nothing like me.  She's all Oko.

She's a short little thing, but with legs that go for miles.

She's a playful thing when the mood strikes, but if she's not in a happy mood?  Watch out world!




Twice that day she made me sing Happy Birthday to her in my "funny" voice.  I do believe she recorded it and posted it on Facebook.  Little stinker still doesn't get it that it takes a lot more than that to embarrass her mama!




Here she is decked out for July 4th... on July 3rd.  Ermmm?  Huh?

One of the neighbors organizes a kids parade to celebrate Independence Day and for some reason, this year it was held the day before.  It was totally adorable, the kids, adults and dogs being led by two motorcycles and one quad driven by a retired Marine.  Yeah baby, yeah!

That's my little Jordyn, my favorite kid in the neighborhood, aside from my own.  And that's her proud daddy, Tom, who has fought for our country with bravery and pride.  Thank you, Tom!!!

They're at the ready!  Can you spot Strudel's ass?

And they're off!!!







Hope all of you had a fabulous holiday weekend. Mine was spent in the house by my lonesome, feeling horrendously weak and tired. I just found out that I'm anemic, so hopefully after a bunch of iron pills are consumed I'll start feeling my normal crappy again.


Muah!

I Smell A Rat!!!

Sniff sniff.  Do you smell it?  Smells like rodent to me!

But not that rodent.  He's just too weird looking.

I'm talking about this rodent...

And she doesn't smell at all.

Try to tell me that's not a face you could love?  I'll tell ya what, I love that face.  I love this rat!  

Unfortunately, she's not mine until I kill her owners and steal her.  Her name is Cheesy and she is Madison's friend's beloved pet.  But for the next week, while Cheesy's family is away on vacation, I get to rat-sit!!

Ya know, while the rats mice are away...

I know you're all thinking I'm some kind of ratshit crazy, but... I adore her.  I adore almost all critters, but I especially love ones that will snuggle and cuddle, wrap their tail around you and lick you senseless.

And that's exactly what Cheesy does.  She's kind of like a dog, but with a disgustingly scaly tail and little beady eyes.

I think Strudel wants to eat her but we can't have that, no no!  So Cheesy is spending time between Mikayla's and Madison's rooms upstairs, with playtime downstairs while Strudel is confined to the bitch cave.

I'm in rat heaven!!!!

Did I mention that I lurvs her?

Cloudy With a Chance of Electrocution

There are very few things that I enjoy about summer in Florida.  I could count them on one hand.



I love all of the lizards and tree frogs that come out to play at this time of year.  Any day now the tree frogs will sing their mighty songs each night, especially after a good soaking of rain.  I can't tell you how much I love that sound.



I love love love the powerful storms we get at this time of year.  Lightning strikes hitting the ground, great claps of thunder that will scare you right out of your seat... love it!!!



Except, the thunder usually doesn't scare me right out of my seat and there are times when maybe it should.



Several weeks ago, I was sitting out here in the bitch cave, playing on my laptop and enjoying the raging storm around me.  Any normal person would be enjoying said storm from the safety of the inside of the house, but not me.  Oh no, I'm much too stoopid for that.



So, I sat here enjoying myself until a huge fork of lightning came down in the woods directly behind my backyard.  At the very moment it struck, the sky let out a crack not unlike a sonic boom, but before I had a chance to jump out of reflex I felt a jolt that went from my thumb resting on the space bar, up my forearm, way past my shoulder, and up to my right ear.



I had been zapped.  Not badly mind you.  If it had been bad I wouldn't be here to type the tale.



But it did stun me enough to get my hiney indoors immediately.



Okay yeah, I grabbed my computer first.  But then I ran inside immediately.



My forearm was actually aching for quite a while, but this was my first zapping and I had to let someone know!  I quickly called Jimmy to excitedly tell him I'd just been electrocuted.  The conversation went something like this:



Jimmy:  Hello, this is Jim.

Me:  It's me!  Guess what just happened?

Jimmy:  You iced somebody in Mafia Wars.

Me:  Well yes, but not that.  I was zapped by lightning!

Jimmy:  Well, you're obviously not dead, so can we talk about this later?  I'm late for a meeting.



Hmph.   Thanks for sucking the excitement out of my victorious battle with Mother Nature.  Next time I'm calling Jill.  At least she would show some appreciation for my near-death experience.



This is not the storm that nearly killed me (pause for drama) but it sure was a beauty!

Jill was here that day and once the storm broke loose, we stood on my front porch to capture some of it.  Listening to this makes me cringe because I thought my NY accent was basically gone.  Not so apparently!  Blech!

And then a little more video for your viewing pleasure.







I bet you're feeling mighty jealous of my beautiful storms, aren't you? Well, don't be because along with the lizards and the frogs and the storms, comes the devastating heat and humidity. The other day it was 100 degrees with a heat index of 123.



Melts the skin right off your face.

The World According To Jill

It has not escaped my notice that I've had very little to say about Jill, her Jillisms and her wacky life experiences lately.  Of course, I've had little to say about anything as of late, but I know you'll forgive me, right?

I wish I had tons of stories to tell you, but Jill has once again fallen off the stupid wagon a bit.

Did I ever tell you the story about her flying cell phone?

One day, while doing yard work, Jill placed her phone on top of her friend's car and said, "Friend, whatever you do, don't drive away with my phone on your car!"  So what did her friend do?





She drove away with Jill's phone on her car.

Now by this time it was nighttime and black as pitch.  When Jill finally realized that both her friend's car and her cell phone atop it where gone, she despaired of ever finding it.

But then Jill had a brilliant idea, and you know how infrequently that happens to my sister.  She thought, I'll jump in my car and repeatedly call my phone.  Maybe I'll be able to see it lighting up when the call goes through.

Would you believe she found that damn phone, about a mile from her house, sitting in the middle of a busy road, flashing for all it was worth?

And now that I've written this out, I do believe I've already shared this story.  Well crap, sucks for you!





Jill always seems to find herself witness to things that the rest of us would never see in a lifetime.  For her, they're common occurrences. 

A couple of months ago while driving home, she rang me on her cell and said, "Justine, you're not gonna believe this!  I just saw a car EXPLODE!"

Now in Jill-speak that could mean that a car backfired... you just never know.  So, I had to be very specific while questioning her.

Me:  You literally saw a car explode?

Jill:  Yes!  Right on the exit ramp!  It EXPLODED!

Me:  But did you actually see it happen, or did you just hear it?

Jill:  Well, I can't remember now if I actually saw it happen at that very moment, but I heard a huge BOOM and then flames shot up in the air!

Me:  Flames in the air, huh?  Or was it maybe just a smoking, overheated engine?

Jill:  Justine!  I'm telling you, the frickin' car exploded!  It's on fire right now, right in front of me!  That's it.  I'm hanging up to take a picture to PROVE it to you.  Sheesh, you never believe me!

Case closed.  Jill indeed saw a car explode.  My bad!




Co-cooking with Jill can sometimes be fun, especially when it means I don't have to do all the work.  Last month she and the girls were here and I decided to make her a nice meal of chicken cutlet parmesan, and left her in charge of making spaghetti with garlic and oil.  I wish I could spell out the Italian way of saying that but I have no clue how.  I'll just tell you that it sounds like "Spaghetti ahoyeeoh"

Once the spaghetti was done, Jill was on the hunt for a colander to drain it, but instead she asked me, "Do you have a restrainer?"

Me:  Excuse me?  A what?  You want to put a restraining order against your pasta?  What?  Is it not al'dente enough?

Jill:  A restrainer?  A retainer?  Shit!  What am I trying to say?

Me:  A strainer?

Jill:  Yes!  That's what I need!  A strainer!

Me:  No you don't you moron, you need a colander.  This is a strainer (grabbing one from the cabinet to show the dummy)

You need a colander, dipshit.  What kind of Italian are you anyway?

Fast forward (or maybe it's rewind... I can't keep up with this stuff!) to a day when Jill was having our parents to her house for dinner.  She was making meat loaf, or so I thought.

Jill called me from Publix.

Jill:  "Hey, how much pot do you think I need for my roast?"

Me:  Erm... what?

Jill:  How much pot do you think I need for my roast?

Me:  Well, that depends on how stoned you want to get our parents, you idiot!  What the hell are you talking about?  You're making meatloaf, right?

Jill:  Oh shit, what did I say now?

Me:  Oh never mind!  Two pounds!  Two pounds should do it!  

Then another relaxing day with Jill and the girls here for a visit.  We were sitting outside in the bitch cave when Strudel ran up to Jill excitedly, shoving her snout at her for some loving.  Jill squirms away saying, "Ewww.... Oh how I love having a wet ass up my nose!"

Now the last time I checked Strudel's ass was not plastered to her face, nor have I ever seen it wet, so I have no clue where this Jillism came from.  All I could do was laugh and grab my notebook to write down her words verbatim.  

I don't know what to tell you, I don't even know what to think about my dear sister.  There must be a really wild party going on with the relays in her brain.  Maybe her neurotransmitters are dancing the flamingo.  Did I ever mention that she honestly thought the Latin dance, the flemenco was in fact called the flamingo?

I shit you not, people.  I shit you not.

Stay Tuned Right Here For Another Great CSN Stores Review!!!

If you're like me, you love shopping online... no crowds, no rude employees to deal with, and hey, you get to sit on your butt while shopping.  What could be better than that?  What's better than being able to shop for anything from clothing to furniture, to even a new vanity for your bathroom?  That, my friends, is pure luxury and what better place to shop than CSN Stores with over 200 sites to choose from?

I want you to be on the look-out in the next few weeks for a personal review from me on a product I'll be purchasing from CSN.  And you know I'm always honest!

An Eventful Week

It's been quite an eventful week around here, what with the last day of school on Wednesday, and Mikayla's 13th birthday party that same afternoon.  She's not officially 13 until July 3rd but she wanted her party at a time when kids would be less likely to be away on summer vacations, so the last day of school it was!


This was, by far, the largest party Mikayla has ever had, 13 being a pretty monumental birthday.  So, when she requested an inflatable water slide I was only too happy to make it happen.




Little did I realize the damn thing would be this enormous!

You'll notice the dead queen palm tree.  Just more evidence of the exceptionally cold winter we had up here in North Florida.

Becau$e a water $slide tend$ to be quite expen$ive I kept the cost of the party down by not serving actual food.

Wait.  That made it sound like I served them crap on crackers or something, but no, I just kept it to light munchies.  Chips, pigs in a blanket(s) and a fresh fruit cocktail I made and put into a hollowed-out watermelon.  Please, if I ever get the idea to try and be creative with a knife again, implore me to drop the idea.  I suck at it.  My "basket" looks like it's lined with jack-o-lantern teeth.

Jagged fruit aside, the party was a smashing success.  About 16 bikini-clad teens in my back yard, squealing constantly while flying down the slide.  What impressed me so much about these girls is that none of them seemed put- out by 4-year-old Gianna and 3-year-old Jasmine, that wanted to be escorted down the slide.  Many of them pitched in with nary a complaint.

Look at my Poopy Pants in her 'kini!

Mikayla's biffle, Katy.

There goes Alexa, catching some air!

Jessica on the left, Mikayla holding baby Jasmine on the right.

At one point Jimmy started filling bowls with ice water and threw it on the girls as they came down the slide.  I got some pretty cool shots of flying water.

Of course there was cake.

And presents!  Mikayla made out like a bandit with tons and tons of gift cards.  Yay!  Shopping!

Some slide video...










That night, Mikayla went home with Jill to spend a few nights and met up with us yesterday at my brother's house for my nephew, Jonny's graduation party. I don't think I ever showed you any of the pictures from the play of his I went to months ago, so I'll throw some in here now.

She Ate It

I'm here, yet I'm not here and it's driving me bonkers.  I don't know why I suddenly stopped wanting to read blogs or write my own, but it has surely happened.  I tell you what, it had better be temporary because this blog of mine has been such a creative and emotional outlet for so long that it's become a part of me.

I guess I'm just a flake, eh?

Anyhoodle, it's been a long time since you all have gotten a Strudel the Destructo Dog update.  If you remember back quite a few months ago I told you I had a box in the closet where I was throwing all of the things Strudel was eating so I could prove to you that yes, she eats everything.

But like so many other things, after a week or so I kind of forgot the box was there, so what I do have now is nothing compared to the real thing.

I give to you, the contents of The Strudel Box, Dum Dum Dum!!

A mish-mosh of many different mangled household and even doggie items.

Remotes...

A $400 cell phone...

This used to be Madison's friend, Jordan's, flip-flop.

Note to self:  Buy Jordan new flip-flops.

All that is left of my Crocs... just a chewed-up strap.  Oh and a pencil.  Strudel loves pencils!

She also loves paper of any kind.  Paper plates, magazines, textbooks, etc.

Most dogs love to play with tennis balls.  Strudel prefers to eat them.

A dog toy isn't really worth her time unless she can rip it apart.

So yeah, anyone want a golden retriever?

I wish I had a picture of what she did to me last night.  She was upset that I took a paper towel roll away from her... I mean come on, she was having a great time shredding it, right?  So, as soon as I turned my back she bit my ass!!!  

Ten minutes later I went to feel the spot because it was stinging.  Blood.  I was bleeding all over my nightgown from an ass bite!

I then had to stick my tail between my legs and ask Jimmy to apply a bandage.

To my ass.

I'm wondering when, nay, if, Strudel is going to grow out of this biting thing.  I mean I know I'm quite hairy, but not so much that she'd mistake my hair for dog fur.  Why must she "play" with all of us as if we're part of her pack?

Stru, get the message... I am the alpha bitch in this house.  Get it?

Don't fool yourself into thinking this redeems your less than stellar behavior.