Friends

Do you ever sit and wonder what happened to those old friends that you used to be so close to so long ago? The friend that you confided everything, the one you got in all the trouble with, the one that you lost. We start at a very young age saying... "so and so is my 'best friend'". I can remember in prekindergarten having a friend, Amy, and we were inseparable. One day she and her family moved away and I have never seen her since. All through elementry school the best friends changed but a few really stick out to me. Once I got to middle and high school is where I really formed friendships that I thought would last forever but... most didn't.
I think about them often. How they are doing, where they live, if they are happy. I wonder if they miss our friendship or just don't care. I'm grateful for the friends that have stuck by me over the years. Stayed my friend even after the stupid or mean things that I have done. I am also grateful for my new friends that I pray will be there for the rest of my days but you never know.
As you get older, I feel, making friends gets harder. People are stuck in their ways and keep to their clicks. (Yes, soccer moms have clicks.) I wonder how many people in their 70's, 80's, 90's are all alone because their friends and loved ones have either passed away or forgotten all about them. I don't want to be forgotten. Sure, there are things I have done that I would like for people to forget but I want to be relivent. I want to be there for people and have someone be there for me when I have good news to share or need a shoulder to cry on.
Maybe it's time to answer those emails that I have been neglecting. Return phone calls that I have been avoiding. Send out some belated birthday cards. I need to do something to mend the relationships that just might soon be another long lost friendship.

My Two Year Old Son's Best Sarah Palin Impressions

My two year old son's best Sarah Palin Impressions.


















The truth of these photos are that my son found a few pair of old glasses that I wore years ago. He begged me to take his picture and when I uploaded them one of them caught my eye as Palin-esk.

My son does not claim to be democrat or republican and chooses to stand as an independent until he is old enough to read the news paper and/or understand CNN; which ever comes first.

This is just meant to be silly and fun and in no way offensive to Sara Palin or her supporters. I do not claim to own the photos of Sara Palin.

Could I Be Beaver's Mom?

When I started to write this article I had decided that I wanted to be Mary Richards, played by Mary Tyler More. A beautiful, strong independent business woman who could turn the world on with her smile. But then I realized that that ship had sailed a long time ago.







Now, being a wife and mother, I realize that isn't the life for me. I thought back to high school and remembered once saying that I wanted to be June Cleaver. The perfect house wife and mother. Never a hair out of place, perfectly dressed and always wearing an apron to be ready to bake at a moments notice. She had so much energy, always had the perfect advice for her children and her husband always looked so darned happy. I didn't want to be a CEO or a successful lawyer. I wanted to be... perfect.




Well, I'm not. It made me wonder what fictional television mother I was more like. Rosanne Arnold? Peggy Bundy? Claire Huxtable?















Nope. None of the above.


I keep trying to be the perfect house wife, at which I fail terribly. The perfect mother, which I do my very best. Perfect daughter, friend, sister. I can do my best to be June Cleaver but it will be my version of June Cleaver. A little of her and a little of me. But right now during these hard times, I will just have to settle for being me.

Cancer Schmancer... A Book Review

I know that this book came out many years ago but I felt myself drawn to Cancer Schmancer by Fran Drescher as soon as I saw it. Most of us are some how effected by cancer. Whether it has taken a loved on from us or we may even be fighting the disease ourselves. I've always been a fan of Fran Dresher. I guess you either love her or hate her. The voice, the loud personality... I love it all. And after reading her book I am even more smitten. Cancer Schmancer is about her fight with uterine cancer. The fact that she lived to tell about it is a small miracle. She went misdiagnosed for so many years and is, what I would call, lucky that she finally did get the diagnosis at all. She tells of her symptoms and many different doctors (11 to be exact) and how she suffered for so long. I can't imagine going though what she did and being able to relive it by writing this book and telling her story as often as she can to help other women who have or may have gynocolocal cancer. You get to go step by step with her into her struggles with her illness and also take a peak into her personal life as well. She pretty much tells all and holds nothing or little back, all while keeping her story funny and light hearted. I felt like I was with her every step of her journey. I learned so much and recommend this book to any women (or man for that matter). Rest in peace Chester.

Not Today!

 I walked into the bank and there he was.  What was he doing here?  This is MY bank.  I have gone out of my way to avoid him at all costs for years and years and now he is just standing there. In line.  In MY bank.  I can't possibly handle this.  I got no sleep last night.  My hair is a mess.  I have on no make up.  My socks don't match.  He isn't supposed to be here.  

The last time I saw him we said things we didn't mean.  Hurtful things that you can't take back.  He was leaving for Florida the next day so it didn't really occur to me that I would ever see him again. Although deep down I think I really wanted to. Some nights I would dream about him.  My heart would race and I would get butterflies.  But in my dream he is always mad at me.  He won't speak to me or even look at me.  But this time it isn't a dream.  Will he talk to me?  Will I hear his voice again for the first time in 4 years, 7 months and 16 days?  What will he say? Maybe he won't see me.  Not today, I just need another day or so to figure out what to say... and wash my hair.

He is leaving now, thank God.  

Oh no, he is walking this way.  Don't make eye contact.  Don't make eye contact.       I need to see him.  Our eyes meet.  I can't believe it's really... not him.

Damn.

Never Suck a Dead Man's Hand... A Book Review

If you want to know the real story behind a Crime Sene Investigator's career look no further. Dana Kollman tells of her life as a CSI. While not much like the crime shows shown on television today, she perfectly keeps our interest and entertains us with the truth behind the job. I highly recommend this book.

Greyson's Silly Halloween Story

Once upon a time, in a land far, far down the street, there lived a little monster named Greyson. His favorite day was Halloween. He knew that Halloween was trick-or-treating day!!! His mommy crocheted him a beautiful trick or treat bag that looked like a pumpkin and his goal was to fill it up to the tippy top. So every day he counted down until it was October 31st, Halloween!!! He waited all day until the sun finally started to go down. Then he grabbed his cool bag and Greyson and his mommy went trick or treating!!! The first house he went to was dark and scary but his mommy assured him that there was no need to be afraid because it was all make believe. He knocked on the door and sang "TRICK OR TREEEEEEEEEAAATT!" Then a very nice woman put a peice of candy in his bag. He went to all of the houses in the neighborhood and collected candy. When Greyson was finally finished trick or treating he and his mommy went home to see how much candy he had. And what do you know, his bag was filled all the way to the tippy top! Then Greyson, his mommy and daddy all sat down and ate candy until bedtime. But he was sure to brush his teeth before going to bed. The end.

'Poetry Carnival'... A Book Review

POETRY CARNIVAL is a book of poems that inspire, intrigue and encourage. Edwin Robinette, also known as the "Folk Poet" brings us a collection of poems that cover topics from God to Boston Baked Beans. (Two of my favorites, by the way) I guarantee you will enjoy these poems. I can't wait for his second book to come out!

The Thing About Writing is...

The thing about writing is you have to believe that you can do it. Since I was a young girl I loved to write. I wanted to be a writer since I can remember. But whenever I sit down to write I just can't. I tell myself, why bother, it won't be good enough. Good enough for what? I have no clue. I have so many ideas but nothing ever seems to make it on paper. I start and never finish. I think I just don't have the self confidence anymore. I don't know where it went. I had it last time I looked. Life is hard lately but I should be using that to write. Ugh, I'm just frustrated.  I swore I would work on my writing again but.... here I sit just rambling. If you took the time to read this, Thanks.

Father

A man so strong what a path he has paved,
Thousands of children alone he has saved.
Dedicated his life to a job full of grief,
Helping kids through a life that would have been brief.
Fighting each day for the rights of others,
Side by side with his hard working brothers.
Fulfilling his destiny with his heart on his sleeve,
accomplishing feats that you wouldn't believe.
Some people wonder why he would even bother,
but I am proud to call him my father.
© Angel R

Mother

To my mother on her wedding day
So beautiful and sure
What a wonderful thing to do today
To love life a little more
Surrounded by ones who love you
Your family, friends and me
And waiting at the end of the aisle
your loving husband to be
I wish only for your happiness
From now 'til the end of time
A life filled with serenity and joy
And a love that is sublime
I will stand by your side
As from the beginning and until the end
Not only are you my mother
But also my best friend
© Angel R

Sisters

So young and so innocent
If you could only stay that way
But life will come along someday
And carry you away
I hope that I have helped
to shape who you may be
But remember that no matter what
You can always count on me
Take your time growing older
And enjoy this precious gift
Pretty soon you may have realized
That this time has moved to swift
Don't let your fear hold you down
You could be so many things
Just stay true to who you are
And let that give you wings
I'm proud to call you my sisters
My blessing from above
I wish you a life time of happiness
But above all love
© Angel Robinette

The World of Hope

PROLOGUE 

He sat there, unable to move, as she walked away. He wanted to stop her. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. That he had always loved her. That he wanted to make love to her over and over. But he didn’t. He didn’t do a thing.

“Hey! Dude! Hello!”
“Huh? What?” Peter asked.
“Dude, where do you go when you do that? Your eyes glaze over and you just stare ahead. What do you think about?” Becky asked.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You’re thinking about her aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Stop lying dude. Why do you do this to yourself? It’s been like 3 years!”
“2 years and 3 months.”
“Exactly.”

Becky stood up from the kitchen table and gave Peter a playful punch on his arm. She didn’t understand his pain. She had never been in love. She wanted to help him. Make him stop hurting. It was almost as if he wanted to be miserable. She would just have to let him.

From the living room Becky yelled, “I’ve got a date in an hour but I can cancel if you want me to stay here.” She waited a minute but there was no reply. She knew he was off in his little world again. The world of Hope.

Becky had been Peter’s best friend for almost fifteen years. They met in their freshman year of high school. He was on the swim team and she would sneak into the boy’s locker room to smoke during lunch. The first time they met she saw more of Peter than she would have liked. He was upset at first but she assured him that he had nothing to worry about. She liked girls. After about a week of her walking in on him in the showers he started not to care. In two weeks they were inseprable and have been ever since. They were nothing alike. The only thing they had in common was their friendship to each other and their love for Hope. One platonic and the other disguised as platonic.

Of course, Peter and Becky were together when they first saw Hope. She was working as a waitress at café. They knew it must have been her first day because they had been there every afternoon for the past year. It was their first year of college and they met there after classes.

“Wow, now she’s hot.” Becky commented.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“I saw her first.”
“Shut up here she comes.”

“Hi! Can I get you something to drink?!” Hope sang.
“Yes, you can baby.” Becky said under her breath.
Peter cleared his throat loudly and said, “Yes, two coffees, black.”
“Coming right up!”

When she came back with the coffee Peter noticed that her cheeks were flushed. That was when he noticed that she wasn’t hot as Becky had commented. No. She wasn’t. She was beautiful and at that instint he started to fall in love with her.

Disappointment Reigns

He looks out the window, a boy of only three years. His eyes look hopeful and are full of excitement. He can barely contain his happiness. His legs quiver as he tries to hold still. He tries not to blink so he doesn't miss him. Finally, after what seemed like hours the big old Ford pick up turns into the driveway. The boy squeals in delight. He runs over to the front door and opens it for his daddy. His father walks in gives him a big hug, tells the boy he loves him and goes off to his garage to unwind from work. The boy knew his father wouldn't emerge from the room until long after his bedtime. He couldn't hold back the tears but turned away so his mother wouldn't see. But she knew that the little boys heart was breaking. Just as it did everyday about his time.

It Happened To Me... A True Foreclosure Story.

Well, in a few weeks I will technically be homeless. It's hard to believe that it has come to this point. I try to look back at all of the things that my husband and I did wrong but I just get upset and angry so why bother. I fear what will happen to our family. Our two year old son needs a place to live, a home, but I can not give him what he needs.

A few years ago things were at a polar opposite. My friends teased me about being 'rich'. I wasn't rich by any means but my husband and I worked hard everyday and owned successful businesses and could buy what we wanted when we wanted. I took that for granted and I'm sure my husband did too. To go from that to not being to buy enough food for our family is a hard blow to the ego. I have to keep that smile on my face and pretend all is well for my son and also my husband who's stress level is higher than I can imagine. It's difficult to do but I don't want my son to know there is anything wrong at all. He has everything he needs (thanks to help from his grandparents and us going without so he can have what he needs.) I guess that is all that matters. Our son.

Back in 1996 we decided to get into real estate. How do you go wrong in real estate? We were destined to be rich and retire at an early age. I was 18 at the time. We bought our first house. Things got side tracked and we ended up buying a finewine shop and the building it was in. For four years we turned a small liquor store into a reputable wine shop winning 'Best of Baltimore' in 2001. We got an offer that we couldn't refuse and sold the store and property and made a very large profit. We put half of our money into the stock market/bonds/IRA's etc and bought a few investment properties with the rest. Well, two weeks later was September 11, 2001. Needless to say, we lost 85% of our stock portfolio. We didn't lose hope because we still had our properties.

Over the years, we rented, sold, bought and were living a pretty darn good life. Then the real estate market began to fall. And, of course, this is when we needed to sell some houses to put money in the bank. For over three years we had two houses on the market. We paid those mortgages every month until there was no money left. We were banking on selling those houses to get us into a newbusiness. The bank took the first house and then the second. Then, our home. I don't know if my house sold at auction, when I need to leave or where I will go. All I know is that I need to keep that smile of my face and pray that we will be ok.