My Life On The DD List

Soooo, yeah…..I completely forgot to post this blog about 8 months ago.  I don’t know what I was thinkin’….apparently I wasn’t!  I was going to delete it, but I thought why not post it anyway, right? 

Hello!  Well, it’s been two weeks since the Philadelphia Breast Cancer 3 Day so I’ve had some time to reflect.  I’m not sure if you’ve read my previous blog regding STUFF, but if you have, here’s a funny.  I didn’t need most of it.  Why?  Because we couldn’t camp.  We didn’t relocate.  Actually, we didn’t leave the hotel we were booked into on Thursday!  There were two, yes TWO, noreasters clamping down on the Philadelphia metropolitan area and well, that’s where we were supposed to walk.  But we hopped on a plane, checked into the hotel and waited for word on whether Opening Ceremonies/Day One was going to happen.   Well, later that evening we were informed that Day One AND Day Two were cancelled.  Bummer.  Instantly, word got around the hotel and walkers and crew gathered in the lobby.  It was like a big pajama party!  We all expressed our disappointment, but we made a plan.  Lets walk ANYWAY!  Great!  Lets go!

The next morning, we dressed in three layers, met in the lobby, piled into our respective cars and did a caravan to the Philadelphia Art Museum.  We donned our rain gear, put on our gloves, hoisted our back packs over our shoulders and off we went!  We walked the loop that takes you from the famous art museum around “boat house row” down Kelly Drive and around Fairmount Park.  It was cold.  It was raining.  It was the nicest walk I’ve taken in a long time.  The air was cold and crisp.  It smelled like rain and leaves.  It kept us all going.  We were met, half way around, by one of the walkers family members.  They set up, what we called, Stop and Go A…….they had water, coffee, donuts and a first aid kit.  That was SO sweet of them.  Such a great support!  While we were walking, our very own Sweep Car came down the road, tooting it’s horn decked out in pink balloons and pink ribbon decals.  It was my mom and our friend Eileen.  They were giving out stickers and stuff to all of us….and tried to make it fun for us as well. 

The next day, Saturday, we decided to walk indoors at the local mall.  So we walked around…and around…and around.  Up to the third floor, back down to the first.  Passing Godiva Chocolatier over and over and over again.  Do you know how hard it was to NOT indulge in a dozen chocolates?!  Godiva.  My favorite. *sigh*  But I digress.  So we decided we were hungry so we all decided to go in to Ruby Tuesdays.  We thought since we were in the mood to have fun and were not technically on event, some of us ordered an afternoon libation to get the party started.  The merry-go-round operator was giving out free rides to 3 Day walkers and….well……lets just say the merry-go-round wouldn’t be the same.  I could swear I heard my horse groan.

Day 3.  Rain.  Wind. However, the event opened the route.  We had a mini opening ceremony at Fairmount Park and off we went!  We walked through the wind and the rain and it was SO much fun!  I know, sounds strange to say.  But we were finally out on the route walking.  Officially.  Yes, I was cold and it was raining.  No, I was not miserable.  We walked through the streets of historic Philadelphia and through the zoo.  No animals were outside.  Can you blame them really?  Lets face it, if I weren’t there to fight breast cancer, I would have been in my nice warm dry hotel room! 

There was ONE lone animal out braving the elements.  I swear I think he did it for us.  Just sittin’ up on his perch very matter of factly.  It was a Red Panda.  Here he is to the right.  Cute lil’ bugger isn’t he?  Kinda looks like a cross between a raccoon and a koala right?  So he was out there, I called him George.  It was awfully nice of him to be out there cheering on the walkers. 

So as we walked through the streets of Philadelphia and toward the Navy Yard, I was happy to know that so many walkers decided to either come back to brave the element or, like us, stayed to finish what we went there to do.  I think that although we couldn’t walk for the first two days of our 3 Day adventure, our journey led us to meet the most wonderful people.  It allowed us time to truly bond with our fellow walkers and each of us were able to share “why we walk”.

Well that’s it for now.  Stay tuned.  Our petition delivery will be the next journey we take to help families who have been affected by breast cancer!

Packing for The Breast Cancer 3 Day.  Who knew that 7 events in, that I’m STILL having a difficult time trying to pack everything I need and have it weigh 35 lbs!  It’s almost like when you’re dieting around the holidays.  You know you’ve fallen off the diet wagon and your afraid to look at the scale because you’ve stuffed too much in!   However, I’m “editing”.  It’s difficult.  Well, let me explain why it’s difficult this year. 

Each year, the week of the event, we receive our email from the coaches reminding us to go over our list, check the weather etc. etc.  Well……I’ve checked the weather.  Inclement doesn’t seem to do the job in describing what is in store.  And if anyone who participated in the 2006 event will remember, it was inclement also.  So, with my memory of that event in my head, I’ve tried to remember the things that were important.  Dry clothes, dry feet and somehow a source of warmth!  Where to go…where to go…AH HA! The hunting/sporting department in Walmart!  They’ll have STUFF!   So off I went, last night, to Walmart to see about some STUFF!

Rain ponchos, check.  Next, source of heat.  As I scanned the shelves, I saw nothing that would keep me warm.  The Hub was with me, so naturally, whilest I was browsing the aisles for STUFF, he asked an associate about little heat packs that sportsman use to keep their hands warm.  SCORE!  Extra socks, check.  Gloves, check.  Now, I have to find little shoe covers for my sneakers, to keep them from getting soaking wet.  I’m still on the hunt.  I have 3 days to find them.  3 days, kind of ironic no?  I’m also going to pack some newspaper (if I haven’t already sent it all out to the recycle pile!)  When you ball up the newspapers and put it inside your sneakers, it will wick out the moisture from your sneakers should they get wet.  A GREAT trick I learned during the 2006 “inclement” weather situation. 

SO my packing list has grown to accommodate the “inclement” weather gear.  This is why I’m having difficulty editing.  Because I know what I’ll want and what I’ll need, however, I’m not sure it will fit!  It’s probably at 30 lbs now and I haven’t finished packing my fanny pack, my spare pair of sneakers or the rest of my knickers!  I know, it seems crazy to go ahead with walking in an expected “inclement” weather situation, but we’re women on a mission.  We’re like little pink mailmen & women.  Neither rain nor hail nor sleet nor snow nor heat of day nor dark of night shall keep this walker from walking toward a cure!  So with that said, I’m going to pack all my STUFF, I’m going to head to Philadelphia, I’m going to REMIND Mother Nature that we’re walking for HER boobs TOO and I’m gonna have yet another SPECTACULAR weekend with the most amazing people I’ve ever met and meet some new amazing people as well!

 Off to pack my stuff, wish me luck!

When I first moved into this lovely home, I thought, I have a PANTRY!  A walk in PANTRY!  It’s sometimes the little things that make us happy and this pantry was really one of them.  We organized the pantry.  Put the groceries in the pantry.  Put the Pyrex in the pantry.  Put the “Costco Paper Purchases” in the pantry.  Put the…..the……the…..well, lets just say EVERYTHING went into the pantry!  And in short order, that pantry became something you’d see on the TV show “Clean House”!   So needless to say, I clean out and try to organize the pantry whenever I can.  But I insist there is a little guy that lives in there.  This little guy likes living in the disarray and the mayhem in the pantry and does everything he can to mess it up.  I say this because I walk into the pantry and find out that all of the “organizing” I’ve done, has somehow been UNdone.  Canned items are with the pasta, the cereal is with the all purpose flour and the dishwashing detergent is with the dog treats! 

Today, I’m going in to clean out the pantry again.  I HATE cleaning out the pantry…..it’s almost as bad as cleaning out the fridge.  I’ll go into THAT in another post.  As for today, I hope to find the little guy that lives in there and explain that he’s got to GO.  Wish me luck…..

Ya know, for some reason, people are obsessed with having “bigger boobs” and some go through great lengths to GET “bigger boobs”.  Now, speaking as one who has been on “The DD List” since her late teens, it’s not as great as you think.  People don’t seem to realize that as you get older, gravity starts to reek havoc on your body. So things that were “perky” or “taught” are now……well……less perky and pretty much have their own zip code and mind of their own *looking down and frowning* HELP! THEY’VE FALLEN AND THEY CAN’T GET UP!

Ah well….at least I have my health!

Hello Bloggers!

Sorry I haven’t been around in a while, but somehow life (or lethargy)gets in my way every time I want to sit and type!  So it’s here.  The Breast Cancer 3 Day.  I’m walking with my sister Christine in Philly this year.  I was going to try and crew the event in Tampa Bay, but there’s just no time this year, or money.  Our tough economy has made it difficult to raise funding and currently I’m shy by $500.00 for the minimum amount of money to raise to even participate.  That being said, my training has suffered emmensely this year as well.  I’m hoping the route this year ain’t so hilly in Philly!  If so…..well…..I guess I’ll have my arms above my head in the “X” formation more than I thought!

 So wish us luck…..Team Committed To A Cure is preparing to walk 60 miles in Philly to fund a cure for breast cancer.  Ssshhh, my calves can hear me…..and my feet will catch on!

*stretching out*  Well, I guess I’m out of hibernation.  And instead of tap-tap-tappin’ away at my keyboard in order to give you some excuse like “time got away from me” or “things have been crazy” or “my dog ate my homework”, lets just call it like it is…..I just didn’t blog.  But here I am, back again to blog some more so lets get on with it shall we?

I’ve starting getting back into “The 3 Day” swing, as my sister has talked me into walking the event in Philly this year as opposed to being on crew.  Another year of training, fundraising and stressing over travel arrangements, leave (without pay) from work and a packing list.  All things said….I just LOVE this event.  I LOVE feeling stressed about things like training or travel arrangements for this event.  I just feel like the goal I have set in front of me is not only attainable, but it’s SO worthwhile and special.  I’m not sure my feet have forgiven me since the 2007 Tampa event, but needless to say, I’ve started my training walks against their hissing and complaining!  I’m really looking forward to seeing all of my “3 Day Peeps” again this year and I would LOVE to be able to participate in two events again this year as well.  We’ll see…..that is on the “To Be Deteremined” wish list for 2008. 

So if you see me walking with my “Everyone Deserves A Lifetime” shirt, wave hello…..and/or wave a donation check……either or wouldn’t hurt my feelings!

 Be well my friends. 

TM

The new year is here.  2008.  I look back on 2007 and remember what I’ve lost and what I’ve gained.  My loss column, while short, has some big losses in it.  My gain column, while lengthy, has few big gains, but many small ones.  Here’s to 2007 for what it took and what it gave.  Here’s to 2008 and what will be.

*taking a deep breath and jumping in with both feet*

I remember when I was younger….how I just loved the idea of Christmas.  The Christmas shows on TV, the Christmas caroles, the decorations and the presents!  I can’t remember when I stopped believing in “you know who”(this is just in case some lil’ tykes who are capable of reading are doing so over your shoulder).  I can’t remember what year Santa brought that pink bike with the basket with little plastic daisies on it.  I can’t even remember which year we got Atari (which for those of you who don’t know what Atari is….it was the X-BOX of today…and thank you, now I’m feeling old.).  I do remember, however, the year my grandfather died.  My grampa, my dad’s dad, passed away on Christmas morning.  It was Christmas, 1981.  I was 12. I remember laying in bed, barely awake, deciding if I wanted to go back to sleep or get up and open presents.  I heard the phone ring, which I thought was odd so early in the morning.   It was the nursing home facility.  They told my mother that my grandfather had…..”expired”.  Expired.  They actually used that word.  As if my grandfather was a warranty or a drivers license.  What happened to ”passed away”?  I don’t know.  It just seemed so….sterile.  I don’t remember my mother telling my father, but I do remember hearing my dad crying.  My dad is a big man.  Never really showed emotion at all when we were young.  Rarely showed anger, sadness..yanno….weakness.  But I remember him crying.  Although I was a youngster myself, I started crying for him.  I think, at the time, I thought I was crying solely because my grampa passed away.  But I think, looking back on it now and how I was feeling, I felt bad for my dad.   It was supposed to be a festive day about family and God.  It was a day of happiness and togetherness.  It was about giving and receiving.  But that day, we lost.  We lost grampa.  My father lost his father.  Grief  and sadness had entered our house.  Opening presents was…..seemed…..unimportant.   We opened presents that day, but all the while, my father was upstairs, with his cousin(who we called Uncle, long story).   Mostly, because he wanted us to try and open presents without sadness, but I know now it was partly because he didn’t want us to see him cry.

I never experienced a death up until that point.  As with tradition, there are traditions when someone dies.  There’s usually one or two days of “viewing” or “wake” which gives people their chance to say good bye.  To give people closure.  I went to the funeral parlor the first day.  Only one time.  I was so nervous because I didn’t know what to expect.  I turned the corner and smelled the sickly sweet smell of all kinds of flowers.   I saw my grandfather and I felt jolted.  Jolted is a good word.  My grampa used to wiggle his ears and make us laugh.  I looked to see if his ears were wiggling.  Needless to say, I didn’t handle the funeral parlor very well, so when it was time to go back for the evening viewing, I was left home with a neighbor.  I can’t remember if all of the kids were left home, but I know I was.  Ever since then, I can’t stand being in a florist shop, being around a lot of fragrant flowers or being around Lillie’s.   The smells remind me of sadness and bring a sickness to my stomach.  

I don’t think so, but maybe the Christmas my grampa died was the year I stopped believing in “you know who”.  I don’t know.  I do know that was the year I grew up and was pulled out of childhood and into young adulthood by getting my first two life lessons.  First, dying is a part of life and second, dad’s do cry.

Holiday time is rolling around again.  I can’t even believe a year has gone since I last ate turkey.  I’m sure though, the turkey’s in my area are relieved to hear that.  Being from the North East….ok….New York City….it was quite an adjustment after I moved to Florida.  The first year or two of 80 degree weather for Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years was a novelty.  I gotta say that the novelty has worn off a LONG time ago.  I miss that BONE chilling cold weather running from store to store Christmas shopping.  I mean, who feels festive when it’s 80 degrees outside?  Santa was on a sled not a surf board, am I right?  The song “Let It Snow” just seems so…..unnecessary here.  So, while having to adjust to the warmer weather, I also had to adjust to the slower pace of the shoppers.  My area has had a population explosion and there are many people from New York who are living here now, but even still……that “hustle and bustle” that is New York eludes us here in Florida.  No matter what anyone tells you, there IS a slower pace in the south.  With all of that comes a new etiquette to learn.  A new way of doing things.  A new way of speaking with people.

I was in the grocery store(when I first moved here), when someone came up to me and asked, “Is that your buggy?”  I was puzzled.  I looked around and didn’t notice a buggy anywhere near me.  Yanno, being a city girl, I’m lookin’ for a horse attached to a buggy.   I said, “Excuse me?”   The woman replied, “That buggy.  Is it yours?” motioning her head in the direction of my shopping cart.  I finally realized what she was asking of me and answered, “OH! The cart.  Yes this cart is mine.” and I smiled at her.  Yanno, as if by smiling I could assume that “southern charm” and combine it with my VERY pronounced New Yawk accent.  The woman walked away in a huff.  I couldn’t understand why the woman was angry with me.  I thought I was being nice, but perhaps she assumed that I was correcting her on the cart vs. buggy thing.  As she walked away from me she muttered something back to me….”yankee” something or another. 

I think, when people from the North East move south, they should be given a etiquette book.  The same should go for someone moving from the South to the North.   Emily Post did books for wedding or party host etiquette, so why not have books pertaining to the differences in North and South? (East and West too, for that matter)  I mean, this way, when you move, you can be more prepared and perhaps blend in a bit better.  (Right here, my thoughts go to that section of My Cousin Vinny “Oh yeah, you blend.” -Mona-Lisa Vito).  I have gotten more patient when it comes to certain things.  However my road rage has elevated since moving here.  Go figure, right?  I can also say that a slower pace, depending on the situation, isn’t always a bad thing.  Now I’m not saying that I’d be able to fit back in with the pace in New York anymore however I have to admit that, being in Florida for as long as I have, I still have not conformed 100%.  I definitely still have a New York accent.  Most who visit the restaurant ask me what part of New York I’m from after I speak with them for a few minutes.  I gotta say, that makes me feel good.  Like I’m still attached.  I think I also have a bit of New York edge;  ie:  nothing really surprises me.   I mean, it would really have to be something monumental but even then, I doubt I’d be shocked or surprised.  Although I admit that we humans can be cruel and unusual toward one another and every once in a while, something pops up on the news that does shock me.  I’m so NOT the “southern belle” type.  No matter what happens, I suppose you can take the girl out of New York, but not the New York outta this girl.

So no, I don’t call a shopping cart a buggy.  Hey, I just don’t.  But that’s me.  However, the woman who has lived here her whole life calls it a buggy.  So, I’m left to wonder….is it a cart or a buggy?  Perhaps the translation depends on whether you’re north or south of the Mason-Dixon.  But even then you may have to learn to speak the language, huh? 

So, here’s the thing.  I don’t go to a salon every 6 weeks like clock work to get my hair cut.  I guess I’m on the bottom of my list of priorities, especially my hair.  The other day I stepped out of the shower, got dressed, started blow drying my hair and froze.  I looked in the mirror.  More like stared.  There they all were.  “Look at them all.”, my mind said.  It was like a club.  A collective bunch that was not invited, yet rudely they showed up.  It was like I was popped on the back of my head and snapped out of some haze and back into reality.  I thought, “I can’t possibly be old enough to have that many……gray hairs!”  I leaned on the counter because I felt a little light headed.  So I finished drying my hair and went out and ran errands.  While I was running said errands, I stopped by a local hair cuttery to ask if someone could squeeze me in.  The nice woman with perfectly coiffed hair said, “oh absolutely.”  Oh absolutely?  Was this because she thought my hair was in as bad a shape as I did?  And did everyone else think the same thing?  Suddenly I was longing for my baseball cap.  I got a wash n’ cut by a young girl (my regular “stylist” is a rock star and is booked like a month in advance)and it wasn’t the way I wanted it, but the length was gone and quite frankly, that’s what I needed.  So, off to Target and Walmart.  I picked up a box of hair color.  “Champagne” it said.  What was MORE important was the claim that it offered 100% gray coverage, so I plucked a box from the shelf and threw it into my basket.  I covered the box up with other “stuff” I was purchasing almost as if I were one of those people embarrassed to buy feminine products or condoms.  I went straight to the “self check out” area and proceeded to ring in my items, bag them, pay for them and I was properly thanked, by the machine, for shopping at Walmart.  I went home mixed the color and applied it immediately.  The instructions said 25 minutes for light gray or 35 minutes for heavy gray.  Lets just say I left it on for 50 minutes and leave it at that, k?  I rinsed, I conditioned, I rinsed, I moussed and blew dry my new hair cut and was excited about the new color…but mostly, the eviction of the grays that were uninvited!  My hair is no longer mousey brown with grays, it’s not even Champagne blonde which is what the box promised.  My hair is now strawberry blonde.  No matter what color I pick, it comes out strawberry blonde.  My stylist said it’s because “it comes out of a box.” but I’m thinkin’ it’s a conspiracy.  ANYway, most of the grays have disappeared, but there are a few rouge strands that railed against the coloring process.  I’m going to have to fight back by going back to the store to purchase a highlighting color combo.  With a few strokes of the highlighting brush those grays will no longer be gray, but strands of “blonde”.  I’ll teach THEM to show up uninvited.  I’ll chemically beat  them into submission!

 The moral of this story?  There isn’t one.  Well maybe one.  Make sure you go get your hair cut and colored every 6 weeks and stop being so cheap!  You’re more important than that spare room you’ve been meaning to paint!