08.30.09
Posted in It's All About Me(and Those Voices in My Head) at 5:23 am by Administrator
“Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not that is inconsolable”
–Sydney J Harris
Regrets. A familiar term to all of us. Everyone has them regardless of race, sex or religious affiliation. Regret covers the broadest range, from mere disappointment to a painful sense of dissatisfaction or self-reproach, over something lost or done. It is that unsilenceable voice whispering in your ear about the possibility you made the wrong decision.
I have an incisive understanding of the theory of this type of sorrow. Of how it furtively maneuvers itself into your mind and slowly settles in. It takes residence and awaits the highly anticipated juncture when you are just about to resolve a situation. And when that moment arrives, regret rears it’s intangible head and strikes. You are blindsided and lost. It has asked the unanswerable riddle that plagues us all, “What if?”.
What if I had gone back to see her in the hospital one last time and expressed how she moved me? How, at that young age, I idolized her every move and yearned for nothing more than one last Mid-Summer night thunderstorm with her where we would lounge on the front porch chaise experiencing Mother Nature’s brilliant light show. I could’ve conveyed my infallible love for her and everything she taught me. And described to her how people saw her: As the most kind, generous, good hearted person ever to have graced us with her presence. I could’ve done all this….and so much more.
But I didn’t. Instead, I embraced the arrival of regret and relinquished control of my life to it. It’s become that invisible entity that guides me back to those remorseful moments when I life as I knew it was altered forever. And yet, the wisdom I have acquired from my years with regret is invaluable. It has instructed me on the importance of always verbalizing how much the people I love mean to me. Regret’s lessons have molded me into who I am today. And though I may not have it all together, I am constantly evolving towards that instance when the past of regrets meets the future of happiness and unites.
For maybe regret is nothing more than a vessel to guide us through the tumultuous waters and navigate us to where we are really meant to be. Perhaps its purpose is simply to enable us to truly appreciate what we have and love it in a way that only we can. To grasp the notion that every day is our blank canvass. And with this we have a choice: we can sleepwalk through life adhering to a “paint by numbers” unconscious attitude or we can be inspired and give Picaso a run for his money.
Now, where are those paint brushes….
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08.29.09
Posted in The Slow People at 6:59 pm by Administrator
Fours hours of sleep, the line at Starbucks and The Slow People in front of me……you know this is going to end badly, right?
I don’t expect more than I am willing to give. I work hard, take care of the people I love and,on certain days, even slightly resemble a pleasant person. Though I may never admit this in person, I am the individual who gives money to the charity workers walking through traffic regularly. What I want is simple. I expect to get my morning cup of coffee and take myself, and my bad attitude, out into the world and begin my daily torture of my Fidget or whomever I feel has earned a well-deserved a** kicking that day.
Evidently, The Slow People need a reminder of what not to do(once more for the record!)to avoid my wrath. I go to the same Starbucks every morning. They know me. Even on the weekend, I drive farther to go to this particular one. They have my drink started before I walk in the door(they know the Urban Assault Vehicle as soon as it winds into the parking lot) and typically the total elapsed time I am there is roughly 1 minute. I walk in, they my swipe card, I grab my coffee and I bolt. Effortless, or at least, it should be. Today, however, was field trip day for the Slow People. The Asylum decided a nice cup of java was in order(brilliant idea–let’s give the inmates a jolt of caffeine). So they loaded up the short bus and brought them to…..you guessed it! My Starbucks!!!!!
It’s a Saturday. I was out a little later than usual(having a scandalously great time with an amazing man I can’t extract from my thoughts) and I am getting ready to embark on a three hour drive downstate for my regular dose of self-inflicted anguish. I am exhausted and have a temperment strongly resembling a cornered rattlesnake right now. I have but 1 absolute goal…..my coffee. So as I stumble into my home away from home for my daily fly-by to acquire the liquid gold that keeps my engines going, I notice my little Starbucks boy shoots me a glance(a not-so-subtle-warning of a possible change in the routine). He’s forcing a smile on his face while listening to a old, smaller framed ethnic woman(let’s just say her favorite food is rice) try to determine what to order. He is explaining every drink to her with an expression of pure torment. And yet, despite his tantalizing descriptions of the available beverages, this Slow Person just can’t seem to decide. So I attempt to wait patiently in line(and as I’m sure you’ve figured out–the key word here is attempt).
I am now five minutes in line. My mind is calculatedly plotting ways to end my turmoil and the life of the Slow Person in front of me. My Starbucks boy has the same expression most men have after enduring an hour long argument with a spouse(which they know they will not win). He is drained and I am done. It’s time for some much needed resolution. My drink has been on the counter awaiting it’s owner for at least 4 eternal minutes. I proceed to thrust my card past the Slow Person’s head like a Samurai wielding a sword and pay for my beverage. Starbucks boy coyly smiles, as he accepts my payment, acknowledging we are about to accomplish the impossible–we are about to be rid of the perpetrator inflicting pain on us all. The Slow Person turns to me with a look of utter disgust that I have just line-jumped her Slow a** and am moving on to bigger, better things. Unable to use her words(this a Slow Person, remember), she grunts out a slight noise and storms out of the store.
As I meander out the door brandishing a devilish grin, Starbucks boy yells out to me, “next ones on the house!”.
So I say to all……Ask not what Starbucks can do for you, but what you can do for Starbucks.
And life, as I know it, goes on….
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08.22.09
Posted in It's All About Me(and Those Voices in My Head) at 2:33 am by Administrator
I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”
— Marilyn Monroe
Truer words have never been spoken. And for those of you who know me personally, she could have been decribing me.
I know that normally there is a sarcastic, facetious blog here typically venting over The Slow People and their relentless attempt to slowly, but calculatedly, drive me insane. But I need to mix it up a little today so please bear with me. I have had three constants in my life for the last 16 years.
1) My family and friends(they are one because I consider my friends part of my family)
2) My job
3) My inpenetrable wall I’ve built to keep those people not in #1 from getting too close
I would walk through fire for the people I love and work 80+ hours a week for a job I believe in that pays me 1/4 of what I’m worth. These elements will never change. It’s #3 that I find myself having doubts about. Do not misunderstand me. The wall has a purpose that it has consistently served for so long I don’t remember life before it. I appreciate the wall and everything it has kept me safe from for all of this time. But I’ve met someone that makes me question if it’s time to lower the wall, just a little, and really open myself up to give a man a chance to prove all my life lessons wrong.
I’m not going to build him up(well maybe a little). He’s not perfect. But who am I kidding, neither am I. He’s been a great friend to me for years. He’s the man you know will be there when the chips are down. Who won’t judge your mistakes. He’s made his own and therefore understands the process of life. His sarcastic humor is intoxicating. The kind of person I could have a battle of wits with and concede defeat without remorse. A very worthy adversary. Someone whose opinion I respect tremendously. But yet he’s so much more.
Charming, respectful, attractive, romantic, sexy, slightly dark, broken, extremely driven, ridiculously competitive….take out the attractive and sexy part and he is, for all intense purposes, the male version of me. He gets my scintillating humor. And the fact that I am tremendously guarded. He’s witnessed the viscious temper and appreciates it. He knows I may never may never let him in. But seems to think that if there is that slight chance he is wrong, it would be worth all of the effort to try.
In my secure corner of the world, he should be a threat to very existence of the fortress of solitude I’ve constructed to ensure the absence of any and all future pain. I should be able to look into to his eyes and realize he is a menace to my reality. But I wonder…..
What if I’ve done it all wrong? What if there are no coincidences? What if meeting him and becoming his friend first was simply the catalyst I needed to move forward. To accept with great happiness comes great uncertainty. And in order to really be satisfied, you must first find what you are open to desire and be vulnerable to it. What if it’s time to live in the moment and simply be?
I am not sure where this will go. Life has taught me that in a few weeks or months, I will disappoint him and be back here regretting my decision to give him an opening. But for some unexplainable reason, I think I can live with that. It’s a chance I’m willing to take. This one just might be worth it. I will leave you, after rotating 360 degrees, to the quote from a plaque I gave my sister the Christmas after her 40th birthday:
“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain”
Let the dance begin…..
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07.13.09
Posted in The Slow People at 12:50 am by Administrator
Every year the weekend after the 4h of July, I wander back home (to “Nascar Alley” as I have appropriately nicnamed it–some people refer to it as Ohio) to spend a weekend with my family for our Birthdays and play in our Annual Charity Event, Mudvolleyball for Epilepy aka Mudstock. There is nothing quite like 200 Volleyball Teams drinking at 7am and then romping around in the Mud attempting to coherently play the game. Its priceless!
Nascar Alley is approximatley a 5.5 hour drive(4 hours if Im driving) from Chicago–85% of which is spent driving through the State of Indiana. For those of you who have never had this experience, dont do it. Though Indiana does have a higher posted speed limit and a shortage of cops to pull over my Urban Assault Vehicle, it is at the very least the most mundane drive ever. The only thing that keeps me from falling asleep is my schrill voice singing along with my ipod and seeing the reaction of the drivers I pass. And the utter thrill of coming up on a subcompact car at 95 mph and seeing the driver soil himself as he tries to get out of my way.
Today, I drove back–trying, of course, to beat my previous time it took me to get there(my sister and her partner want to sponsor my racecar team should I ever choose that as my next profession). As I am approximately 60 miles (or 20 minutes the way I drive) from Chicago, traffic comes to a dead stop. Now at this point, I have been in the car for 3.5 hours without moving. I am ridiculously sore and bruised from my slightly intoxicated attempt at a Volleyball game yesterday. All I want is for the Slow People to get out of my way so I can get home and veg a little–not an outrageous request. But the Indiana Dept of Highways has another plan for me.
Evidently there is a new standard for their road construction(and when it comes to road construction I am an expert–I am from Chicago–and as everyone knows Chicago has 2 seasons, Winter Season and Road Construction Season). They have decided to turn their highway into 1 lane for roughly 15 miles. Now I understand the roads need fixing. And I also understand the need to block off on lane as your fixing it. But if you are going to this, then work on the other side of the road. I am sitting in my Mini Monster Truck staring out the window watching corn grow and suddenly it dawns on me. As I have been creeping down this now 1 lane highway, there is no work being done to the other lane. No equipment, no cut up concrete, nothing! There is a line of traffic from Chicago to Indianapolis(ok maybe not that far–but you get the idea) in 85 degree heat with thousands of drivers working on their road rage skills(I do need to work on mine–they are already perfected) for absolutely no reason.
I am wondering if they are all sitting in their pickups on the frontage road with a case of beer watching this mess and getting some twisted entertainment out of it. I can just see Billy Bob and his 3 tooth grin turning to Jim Bob and saying “We dun fixed them up good time”. Or maybe it is just so they can charge more for a speeding ticket because its listed as a road construction zone(thats not really working out for them on this one as we are barely going 20 mph–need to put a little more thought into it boys!). Whatever the motive Im stuck inching down this road all the while looking at the lane they have blocked off for no reason. And they have put those concrete barracades on BOTH sides of the road so I cant even go off road and make up the precious time. They dont even have an alternate road or detour. We are all just stuck.
So I wanted to say a BIG thanks to my rocket scientists(who are now being filed away in the Slow People file) in Indiana for aiding me in my worst time ever driving back and simultaneously raising the blood pressure of thousands of drivers at 1 time. You guys rule!
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06.28.09
Posted in The Slow People at 12:03 am by Administrator
This little gem of a moment requires a little personal backround on me. I am Vegan. I live on raw organic vegetables(no I do not own Birkenstocks or dress Hippie-like). What this basically means is that I am starving all of the time. And because I need my daily run to work off stress from the Slow people, my job(which I am married to) and my “Fidget”(we will address Fidget at a later date) it makes me even more hungry.
Knowing this, my weekly trip to the grocery store is usually not a fun task for me. Though I have a tremendous amount of self control(shocker–refer back to 2nd sentence), it is not easy to wander around in a place with everything I have given up. So on a normal day, I try and get in and out of the store in 20 minutes. Today, evidently does not qualify as normal. Maybe its Chicago’s recent heat wave that has brought the Slow people out or maybe its just someone upstairs trying to get me all worked up. Either way, be warned! The Asylum is empty. The inmates are on the loose.
So I am acting like Speed Racer trying to wind through the aisles and grab my usual items(I secrectly want to loudly hum the theme song to Mission Impossible but fear few in the store would find the humor in it so I save that for another time). Then I get to the tomatoes. I luv tomatoes. I eat them like candy. As I get done digging through all of them to find the perfect pint, I turn to put them in my cart. Out of nowhere(more accurately, out of the Asylum) a “big boned” woman shows up and proceeds to ask me “are you going to buy those tomotoes?” Now, my first thought is to tell her that I am just planning to tomatoe-sit them and let them ride around in the cart for awhile but I will have them home by 5. Unfotunately, I fear she might actually believe me. Thought #2 is to race off humming the Theme mentioned above and see if she has the Kahunas to follow. But instead I take the high road and simply answer, “Yes I am”.
Now at this point, I inaccurately assume this situation is over. My Bad! This woman proceeds to lay into me about the fact that I am purchasing the only good tomatoes. I am frozen and speechless(and this is very rare for me–I always have something to say)! Is this really happening??? I keep waiting for Ashton Kutcher and crew to show up and tell me I’ve been Punk’d. But after about 5 minutes I realize, this Crazy B**** is serious. She has it in her little “pee brain” that I am going to back down. Boy, is she wrong. I am now pissed! And for those of you who don’t know me–this is very bad for this woman. My friends have actually nicknamed my temper because it is soooooo viscious. So I proceed to stare at something away from her in an effort to let her know I don’t really care about what she’s saying and keep me from going off on her. But I still keep hearing Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah. So I decide to end this fiasco once and for all!
“Fine”, I say, “I will sell you back these tomatoes right after I check out for $95.39″. Now the intelligent people of the world would either tell me to “go jump” or storm off realizing there is no way in hell I am parting with “my maters”. But this Slow A** has the nerve to ask me “why $95.39, they are only $2.39?” “The other $93.00 is for the therapy I am going to need after dealing with a moron like you” was my only response. And then I walked away. I could have stayed and berated her some more. But its not fair to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person. If you are stupid enough to ask if I am going to buy something I put in my cart at the grocery store, you are beyond “unarmed”. And if nothing else, I always try to play fair. Unless it looks like I may loose, and then all bets are off.
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06.27.09
Posted in The Slow People at 12:50 am by Administrator
Ok. I am not a Rocket Scientist(nor do I play one on TV) though I have often considered getting business cards made up that say I am one–or a Thermo-Nuclear Engineer–either way, I feel like a Rocket Scientist when in the presence of those of you out there that are…shall we say slow?
Now before everyone gets their panties in a bunch, I am not talking about people with illnesses or handicaps. They have a reason they act the way they do and they do not have a choice about it…but what is everybody else’s excuse??? People it is not that hard to do some of the simple things that you seem to f*** up on a daily basis(and you are usually in front of me in line or on the road when you do it). An example, streets have signs on them. And though they vary in color, shape and size, they are still signs and they are there to help your slow a** figure it out.
If you see a sign that says “One Way Do Not Enter” it means its a one way street(revolutionary, huh?). And that you are about to encounter My Suburban Assault Vehicle–as it is nicknamed-heading right for you. When this happens, normal people who have made this mistake, raise their hand –as a gesture of a polite apology for being a moron–and turn around to head the right way. You do not flip me the bird or yell at me or even hint that I am in the wrong. I am from Chicago. We invented road rage. And lets not forget that my vehicle can actually drive over yours and crush you like a little bug. So since you idiots can’t seem to figure it out with our current system, I have decided to rename street signs for you to make it easier to understand. Here goes:
1) One Way Do Not Enter will now read Get off the F’ing Road Before the Car Ahead Kills You!
2) Stop will now read This Sign is For all the Morons Out There Who Conveniently Ignored the Original Stop Sign and Slammed into Countless Vehicles –by the time you get done reading it…you will have made a complete stop. Good for you!
3) Railroad Crossing will now read For a Quick and Easy Death, Cross at Your Leisure! If You Are Smart Enough Not to Do This, Then You Deserve to Live.
4) Yield will now read If You think The Car Next to You is Letting You in…Then I Have an Amazing Opportunity for You. Please Exit Your Car and Stand Directly in Front of Mine!
5) No Parking will now read Feel Free to Leave Your Vehicle Here Unattended. But Be Advised This is a Authorized Ramming Zone for All of the Other Vehicles You Block in or Simply Piss Off.
6)The Hard Right/Left Signs will now read Brace Yourself at Your Current Speed, You Should be in Your Death Roll in 2.2 Seconds…Feel Free to Speed Up in an Effort to Entertain the Poor Driver Who Has Been Behind Your A** the Last 10 Miles
7) Stop Signals will now have instructions since you people can’t seem to figure out the “difficult” color scheme…The Red light will now say Do Really Want to Test Your Luck? The Yellow Light will now read Go Ahead Make My Day(But Be Advised There is a Mack Truck Heading This Way With Your Name on It!) And finally The Green Light will now simply read IT DOESN’T GET ANY GREENER!!!!!
Now that things should be easier for the “Slow” people, I have one more bit of advise for you. If you see a Big Black Suburban Assault Vehicle come speeding up behind you…Get out of its way. It could be me;)
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06.25.09
Posted in It's All About Me(and Those Voices in My Head) at 2:45 am by Administrator
Yeah……….NO!!!!
That is just a cheesy little picture that the site builder put on this page that I didn’t have the heart to delete. I keep waiting for it to turn into video and a linebacker to come charging in and level both of them(you know it would be funny-I will work on this for you). Though I was able to easily scratch the other mock photos initially surgically implanted on this page without my permission, I felt kinda sorry for these two. I mean just look at them. One of these two may be famous someday because I left this picture on my site which was taken during the early stages of what appears to be their “soon to be extinct” modeling careers. But they appear to be having a genuinely nice conversation about absolutely nothing.
Despite what The Florida BFF’s husband thinks, when I speak it is usually on very serious and important topics. And for the record, SHOES qualify as a serious and important conversation. For the men out there, I am feeling particularly giving today(don’t expect this again, please) so I will let you in on a little known female secret as to why SHOES are so important. Because it does not matter what size woman you are, a great pair of shoes will always look great on you. And as Cinderella taught us at the very earliest stages of life, a pair of shoes can change your life.
So hang in there boys, and if you really want to “get some” be sure to mention how amazing your babe’s shoes look. This will take you far.
As for my aspiring models up there. I am going to give them their 15 minutes and leave them up….For Now!
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Posted in It's All About Me(and Those Voices in My Head) at 2:06 am by Administrator
My Characters (The PC Sister(who you can’t help but love), The Techy Brother(if it’s shiny and has buttons…he can “upgrade it”), The Ohio Neighbors(Arrrggghh!), The Cali BFF, The Florida BFF and The Men(they do not individually deserve more than one name–perhaps numbers)
(More on the characters to follow)…Let’s start with me!I was born and raised in the Midwest(for the rest of you who share this curse–my sympathies). I am not sure why I have stayed here. My 2 best friends live in Florida and California. And proceed to tell me at every point when we talk, how great the weather is. I firmly believe they have a bet going to see who can get me to breakdown and move someplace warm first–good luck girls! I may actually do it….but first I would like to address a few things with the people who invented “global warming”. Clearly they did not “stop by” Chicago anytime this Winter!
Anyway….
My life has become a whirlwind of surprisingly “scratch-your-head-and-say-HUH?” situations that have managed to bring me to this point. So instead of purchasing firearms or resorting to prescription drugs(orange is not my color, stripes are too 80’s for me and my Doctors won’t give me the good stuff) , I have started this site to Blog It Out(I know you like this but I am working on patenting it–so hands off). And maybe entertain a few others in the process.
If this doesn’t work we will go to Plan B…..lots of Vino and Valium. We might have to throw in a few 20 somethings to mix it up. We’ll see.
Advanced warning….there is no Plan C!
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06.24.09
Posted in Uncategorized at 6:48 pm by Administrator
About The Slurpee Queen:
This website is intended solely for the population of smart-but-sarcastic adults out there who need an “10 minute adult-timeout” from life.
We all have stress(duh!).We all deal with our specific situations in our own way. This is just my attempt at managing life little surprises and solving it’s unsolvable mysteries for my own sanity(which I am moderately sure I had at one point).
Some future topics to be covered:
Does Tequila really make your clothes fall off?
Is sanity overrated?
Should slow drivers be allowed on the roads during rush hour?
If we really have “global warming” why was is so freakin’ cold last winter?
Please stay tuned…
Need to put a special thanks to my family & 2BFF’s here…Not sure I would have made it this long w/out you. Luv you all!!!
How to know a true friend:
1) A true friend is someone you have done so much crazy s*** with, you must always be friends with them for fear they will write a book.
2) A true friend is not the person who stops you from doing something stupid, but documents it on film first and then saves your ass.
Editors Note: If you are easily offended, feel free to visit elsewhere.
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