Please Dont Tell My Mom

I wasn't sure if I was going to blog about this as many family members read my blog. But I have decided that as I approach 40 I'm a grown woman and I can make big grown up decisions without having to explain myself . So here goes I got a tattoo. (Please don't tell my mom please. I know Ill be in some bigggg trouble!)

But I did. I got a tattoo its kind of big but I love it. Its on my hip over some very flattering stretch marks. Its a sea horse. I got a sea horse because the female squirts her eggs into the males pouch and then she goes off gallivanting on her own. The male then clings to a weed and swells up and is forced to sit and waits for the babies to emerge. Now I know this has nothing to do with my life as its been years since any form of gallivanting has not occurred f but its a reminder to myself to maybe start doing a little galli every now and then and save some vanting for later.

I went to Daredevil Tattoo. When I got there it was filled with 18 year old boys covered from head to toe in tattoos. Rap music was playing at top volume. I thought run run now why you can. But I didn't I sat there the old lady in her career pants suit silently hoping a meteor would strike the shop before my appointment.

Finally the owner a nice more my age lady appeared and she took me into a back room. She played some blue grass (apparently this is where the old folk hang out) and helped me settle in for the tattoo which I will name Pain Fest 2009. Pain Fest 2009 consisted of me trying not to bite a hole through my purse while a needle poked repeatedly into my skin for an hour and a half. I tried to be cool but its hard with your shirt tucked into your bra strap as you sit in the equivalent of a human sewing machine. She was however very nice and getting this tattoo proves I'm not really old I'm just enhanced age wise.

So here it is my sea horse!

Just a reminder please do not tell my mom!

I HAte Jose'

I take back everything I said about liking to drive. That wonderful driving teacher is now but a memory I have instead been stuck with Jose'. Jose' speaks in a calm voice. He wears dark sunglasses Jose' however is evil. As soon as I get behind the wheel it begins:

Susan you must anticipate traffic
Susan you must use your rear view mirrors.
Susan you are not signalling
Susan do not use the gas when you turn
Susan watch out for that man on the bike
Susan do not hit that woman with a baby carriage
Susan watch out for that pole.
Susan do not back into that tree.

Although he does not yell at me the calm quiet anxiety that Jose' radiate has created a boiling pot of hate and nervousness in my stomach. I find myself unexpectedly hitting the breaks and unable to hold onto the steering wheel do to all the sweat. I have even found myself experiencing road rage while in park.

Jose not only makes me nervous he makes me mad. Its only a matter of time before that pot overflows and I tell Jose' where to stick it. Before I tell Jose' that he is making me a nervous wreck. Before I tell Jose' that no matter how calm he sounds I have seen him tear a hole in dash board with his finger nails as he barks out commands. Before I start to scream DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO JOSE'! I WILL HIT THAT WOMAN WALKING BEHIND MY CAR IF I WANT TO! I HATE YOU JOSE'! AND MY NAME'S NOT SUSAN!

Im the Queen!

As many of you know I have started driving lessons. Some of my big fear were will I hit anyone? Will anyone hit me? Will I throw up on the instructor? Fortunately I did not do any of these things. The instructor was really nice. He got in the car with me (brave man) and drove me to a not so busy area but as this is Manhattan that phrase is relative.

He had me get behind the wheel turn the key and suddenly I was covered in sweat. Not just a little sweat but flop sweat. The kind of sweat that soaks you from head to toe. My hand kept slipping off the wheel and I had to keep wiping the torrential downpour out of my eyes to see. My poor instructor pretended not to notice as he had me drive around and around the block stepping on his break every few minutes when I missed stop signs and red lights through the downpour of my own fear.

It was sexy let me tell you.

On Saturday it was time for my next lesson. It was new instructor as I guess the old one was ummm. lets call it sick? This instructor was fearless. He greeted me with a smile and said:

Here you go This isn't my car so hit something if you want to I don't care.

Something me sprung to life. Before I knew it I was cruising down the street at 30 miles and hour. I was doing 3 point turns. I was singing along to the radio and cutting off taxis. I was amazing. I was a driving queen.

There was a moment when I almost hit a woman but she totally deserved it as she walked in the back of my car when I was in reverse doing my three point turn.

So watch out you pedestrians, bike messengers and taxis Suzie the Queen of Cars is behind the wheel!

Today I Drive

Today I am taking my first driving class. I'm not feeling very confident about it. In fact I woke up several times in a hot sweat thinking about crashing into things.

What really made me nervous was when I was in Philly last week (my excuse for going MIB all last week) I had an experience at Chuckie Cheese that really shook my confidence. For all you foreigners out there Chuckie Cheese is a place for kids that has lots of games and rides for kids and uses a big rat for its mascot (it is as horrible as it sounds). Anyway I was at C.C. eating pizza and pretending my fruit punch in a plastic cup with a rat on it was really a dry gin martini in a clean martini glass when my son approached.

Lets play a driving game mommy Ill teach you to dive.

Apparently my son is a consummate driver who will teach me the ropes if I panic.

What could it hurt I thought. I gripped that wheel put in my coins and took my shiny yellow car driven by my avatar a big busted, blond haired, gal out for a drive. When it began I was whistling a happy tune by the end I could barely pucker.

Yes, by the time the game was over I was covered in sweat and my shiny new yellow car was nothing but a smoldering wreck. Don't even ask about my avatar she wouldn't have spoken to me if she could. But since she was trapped in the fiery wreckage I can only imagine her wrestling with her broken bones to flip me the bird before she became one with the computer cosmos.

I looked over and my son was jumping up and down clapping he had come in first place his avatar was waving a winner flag and his beautiful red car was shiny and proud.

So if today you hear about a ten car pile up in NYC caused by a student driver please don't tell my avatar I know she'll gloat.

A Letter To My Bod

Dear Body:

You have been a good body Ive been really pleased about our relationship. You breathe you eat and make it possible for me to do everything I need to do in the course of a day. Remember that time we went to the beach...it was all thanks to you. You body are to be commended.

Lately I've noticed you are beginning to hmmm.. whats a nice way to put it..fall apart. I'm not sure who gave you the fall apart message perhaps it was that nasty 5th vertebrae (she's always causing problems) or maybe someone told you this year we would be turning 40.

Contrary to popular belief 40 does not mean one has to fall to pieces. It is not necessary to tell hair follicles to fall out. It's not par for the course to cause us to end up in the hospital in abdominal pain. Neither do you need to give into to migraines, excessive gas, incontinence, scumming to gravity in important and unflattering areas,wrinkling, hemorrhoids or anything else you may associate with the dreaded four zero.

It is my great hope that we will have many many long years left together. I would love to see the world and body it would be my greatest dream to have you there with me. So do me a favor ignore the big four zero its just a number and not a message of destruction and please tell the 5th vertebrae to get a life.

Love,
Suzie

Post Cards From the Hospital

Some people know how to vacation. They go to Peru or Bornio. Some people prefer Disney or Universal. I however being the unique soul that I am I choose the hospital. Yes the last few days I have been in the hospital throwing up blood and experiencing what can only be described as labor without the wonderful little present at the end.

Wednesday I woke up in the middle of the night feeling as though fairies were pulling my spleen out of my toenails. After a fun filled night of moaning and scaring my husband into an early grave I went to the doctor who quickly sent me to the emergency room. From there I was admitted into the hospital from hell for a fun filled night of injections in the stomach being poked in places even my husband would not dare to go and lemon flavored jello ((shudder)).

I wont bore you with all the details but suffice it to say that Beth Israel is one horrible hospital. And after being poked and prodded and cat scanned and dog scanned the doctor followed by a team of groveling interns said So what do you think is wrong with you?

I laughed and then realized he was serious and staring at this bunch of incompetents I answered My doctorate is in Education Administration ask me whats wrong with a school I can tell you but reading a cat scan is not my speciality.

The doctor and his gang looked disappointed they shrugged their shoulders and moved on to ask another patient to analyze a brain scan.

So according to dopey sneezy and doc I either have an ulcer, gal stones, food poisoning, an alien abduction that went wrong, or a hang nail.

Either way someone owes me a trip to Disney World.

Give Me Back My Candy!

On Friday in my preschool graduation anxiety I bought a candy bar. Not any candy bar but a Hershey bar. I have to be in the right mood to eat them but when I am they are just so good. I ate a few bites and put it away in my draw for another day. You never know when a chocolate bar could come in handy. All weekend I thought about that bar. I knew Monday morning if I wanted to I could walk in my office at 7am and eat the whole thing.

On Monday I came into my office and there on my desk was a wrapper. A brown crumpled up wrapper. Yes, someone had eaten my candy bar. At first I was ok with it. NO biggy. I could have had other things stolen I mean a candy bar is not much to loose. But as the week has gone on (yes I know it is only Tuesday) I have gotten more resentful about that bar.

I mean I could be eating its delicious chocolatiness right now. But no! Some lunatic bursts into my office over the weekend and steals my little piece of joy. What mean nasty person does a thing like that. Its my candy bar! Not theirs! I am trying not to let my obsession grow but now I want to find this person. I want to find out what kind of heartless meany would do such a thing. I will not rest until I have found the culprit. I will not cease until I have caught the evil dooer and brought them to cholatey justice!

On the flip side B's graduation was great. Here's a picture. Isn't he cute?



and here is an empanada (as some of you were not familiar with its flaky crust and its yummy meat or cheese filling)

and here is a picture of a chocolate bar

cute as well but please note the chocolate bar is not holding a diploma and does not have a flaky crust or a yummy meat or cheese filling..

Poor chocolate bar....

I may be a little obsessed

My Own Little Panic Attack

Today is B's preschool graduation. Not only is my little boy graduating but I as director I am helping run the thing.

Last night as I sat on the couch watching I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here which is now my favorite show on TV. (I mean seeing Janice Dickinson steal granola bars and urinate in camp has to be one of the most brilliant forms of entertainment ever created.) I began to wonder what dish I should bring to the graduation should I order a pizza or make empanadas?

It was no longer a simple choice it was THE choice. I found I could no longer breath. My heart raced. I began to mumble pizza no empanada.

I mean kids love pizza right and grown ups love empanadas the choice was staggering and before I knew it I was hyperventilating. I knew if I didn't make the right choice the empanada demons would take over the world and the pizza that I ordered would have saved all the inhabitants of earth. My husband turned to me and with a wild look of concern on his face. I clutched at my throat and gurgled pizza.

Yes I was having a full panic attack over what to bring to the graduation.

You would think with the state of the world today fiances being what it was I would find something sensible to have a panic attack over but no, being the overachiever I am I decided to go full panic out on graduation.

Honey my Hubby assured me I will bring the food calm down its all gonna be fine.

No I gasped its not its not

And before I knew it I was boo-hooing over little B going to kindergarten. My little baby leaving his mommies school and going into the big public school. I saw tests and bullies and detention in his future and began to wail. My hubby grabbed the vodka and assured me he would be fine and keep repeating he would order the pizza.

After a big cocktail and some onion dip visualizations I was breathing a little easier as Janice climbed into a glass cage filled with alligators.

I might be ok now but don't blame me if your day is cut short by wild hoards of empanada demons. You've been warned.

I'm Back!

I'm back. Did you miss me? The trip was great lots of sunshine and deck chairs. Lots of fatty foods and frozen drinks. And the crowning glory , child care! Ahh that was the life.

But now I am back and normal life comes flying at you faster than a baby on a greased sit and spin.

So to really get a good does of reality I went to sign up for driving lessons. It was a brave move on my part since I've never been comfortable with the idea of driving. I always crash those electronic driving game into the wall or run someone over in the first two minutes. But I made a promise to myself that I will learn how to drive in the next three months. So I swallowed my fear and went to sign up at the driving school. Of course I asked lots of questions like are their duel controls for me and the driver? Will the teacher yell at me? How many people crash while learning?

The woman was very nice and answered all of my questions and then said to me:

I know how hard it is for middle aged woman to learn how to drive? Middle aged woman always ask questions like that.

WHAT?!?!

WHAT DID SHE SAY!?!

MIDDLE AGED WOMAN! ME? WHAT THE...!?!

Suddenly my fear of driving was the least of my worries I was now a middle aged woman. I guess I saw it coming people no longer calling me miss and the dreaded Ma'am rearing its ugly head. The reduction of cat calls while passing construction sites. The rechecking if its mammogram time at the doc. It all lead here to the first time I have been called middle aged.

Suddenly there I was a middle aged woman standing in a driving school. It was awful it was unpleasant and worst of all it was the truth (I think how old is middle aged anyway? Isn't it 50 now. I mean jeepers I'm only 39! Still a spring chicken still in my thirties at least for another few months. Whats wrong with that chick anyway who says things like that! That's it I'm taking my toys and going home!)

I should have never come back from vacation.