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Posts Tagged ‘Grandma’

All your internets are belong to me

posted on Monday, July 25th, 2013 under General Ramblings |

AKA this post has no pre-defined direction. Buckle up, Buttercup.

First of all, whew. Life is busy! In addition to my real grown-up J-O-B, general training, tri training, and trying to get all good at Spinning, I’ve taken on 2 rad freelance projects in addition to some other side web projects (one being my poor neglected husband’s website). Busy. I haven’t seen my family in weeks, which is abnormal to say the least. Hopefully this weekend will include some family time.

Oh, wait, it totally will because Sunday (after I finish a 5K), I’m going with my sister to meet our biodad for lunch so she can maybe restart their relationship. This is a big step for both of them – hopefully after this, I get to not be in the middle of the weirdness and they can be on some level of speaking terms again. Fingers crossed, and I’m SO happy this is happening. Having a split life growing up, with mom and sister against dad (and sometimes me, it felt) was tough at times, to say the least. And I know it has caused a lot of guilt issues for my sis, too, which she doesn’t need to be experiencing. I hope this is a meeting that brings everyone some peace of mind and added love moving forward.

And I’m excited for a brick workout with T’s tri training group Saturday AM – I’m so proud of her, and she’s so good at helping people feel comfortable with what (in my mind) is easily one of the most intimidating experiences of all time. Last week’s endurance Spin class and the subsequent strength training session she put together were awesome, so I’m looking forward to a bike/run workout in the incredible weather we’ve been so lucky to have this week.

Last week, I really let myself relax and didn’t add in any extra workouts outside of my normal training schedule. I also relaxed on my diet a bit and indulged in pretty much everything I’ve craved in the last month. It was mostly awesome, but I’m jiggly now and a couple pounds heavier, so it’s back to normal for me. And normal is getting easier and easier, which is nice.

I played golf for the first time in a LOOOOOOONG time this past weekend and let me just tell ya…it was NOT pretty. I’m kind of terrible, and being terrible at anything instantly makes me angry, so I’m not exactly a fun golf partner. I think by the 4th hole (of 9, no 18 for this grump), Mr. T was ready for a divorce. I tried to behave, but holygodammitshitfuckballs, is it frustrating to suck to hard at something you’re trying to be decent at. I get it, it takes TONS of practice and I’m not naturally good at anything but school (which is a sad reality), but that doesn’t make a single wiff less infuriating, or the ball only going 17 yards off the tee any less hissy fit inducing. You guys really should rank Mr. T as a saint for not kicking me out by now.

I get just as pissy at workouts, too. Poor J-Derp. He handles it well, but I get shouty, bratty and extra cussy when I try to do something and I just can’t get it right. Then I get SUPER stoked and happy when I totally nail something. So really, being my trainer must be like babysitting a bi-polar, oversized toddler with Tourettes. I’m all ‘What the fuck are you making me do? You’re dumb! I hate this, and I hate all of you! I’m never coming back, NEVER!’ followed by ‘Dude, did you SEE THAT?!? Best day ever! Unicorns, kisses and puppycats!’

What other mental diarrhea can I throw at you? I think I’m running out of steam.

I promised some recipes, but I’ve been too lazy to type up the ones I modified/invented myself, so here are some links to things either Mr. T or I have made and loved recently:

ACTUALLY Easy Blueberry Crumble. So ridiculously good. Great as a dessert, or as a breakfast dish. This is so good that I’ve already made it twice and only found the recipe a few weeks ago.

Sweet Potato and Egg Salad. Because of this recipe, I now make my own mayo and can have chicken salad, egg salad and even this sweet potato/egg salad in my life again…all work as a meal (lettuce wraps), but this particular recipe is a perfect BBQ side. I love PaleOMG.

Brussels Sprouts and Spinach Frittata. I make this on a Sunday and BAM! Second breakfast for a week (I have a smoothie at home and a mid-morning snack at work, which I call Second Breakfast because I like Hobbits). Another one from PaleoOMG.

Turkey and Spinach Stuffed Sweet Potatoes. Mr. T made this a while back, and it was really yummy. I hope we have it again soon. Again, PaleOMG saves dinner.

Homemade Turkey Sausage. Store-bought sausage, turkey or pork or anything, is generally full of chemicals, preservatives and sugars, so I was excited to find a yummy recipes for a version I can feel good eating. We made this ground up to use in my next recipe, instead of in patties like the recipe says. Still yummy!

Egg Muffins. Now, I totally modified these to fit my eating habits and taste. I made the homemade turkey sausage (okay, Mr. T did), wilted some spinach and didn’t use any cheese, but the basic premise is the same.

The other things have so many modifications or just need me to type up recipes, so I’ll get to more of those later. I have a Pinterest board full of things yet to be made, so I’ll only post the recipes here I try that are actually good. You’re welcome. Hehehe.

In the meantime, here’s some of the interweb funny I’ve collected since we virtually hung out last:

Oh, and I almost forgot somehow…I got my tattoo colored finally! One single yellow rose to represent Grandma V. Sean at Tower Classic did an AH-MAAAAAAA-ZING job. He’s the best. Ever.

Ok, toodles!

It’s hard to believe it’s been 2 years…

posted on Monday, April 19th, 2010 under General Ramblings, Gushy stuff |

Yesterday was the 2nd anniversary of living without Grandma V. I’ve been avoiding thinking of her much lately because it still hurts so much. Or if we talk about her, I pretend like she’s not gone. But when we go visit her grave, I can’t pretend. I miss her so much, and I know my mom and family miss her like crazy, too. It’s not easy. I take solace in remembering the good times, but for some reason, right now I’m haunted by the bad ones.

I remember every second of the night she passed. I remember all the times I got mad at her. I remember the time I accidentally shut the car door on her hand and it really hurt her. I remember all the times we rushed out of the nursing home because we had other things to do. None of those “other things” were nearly as important as spending every second possible with her that we could…but I didn’t realize it then. I should have. But I didn’t, and now it’s too late. I’m so sorry for that. I can’t undo any of it, but at the moment, I can’t let it go, either.

I took her yellow roses and my mom took her a salmon-colored gardenia. These were two of her favorite flowers. I also took a bouquet to Grandma D – hers had a sunflower in it, and I remember vividly the amazing sunflowers she once had. They towered over six feet tall and looked like a bunch of suns glowing over the rest of her garden. Seeing my anniversary date staring back at me from her grave marker makes me feel guilty. I know she was upset with how I handled a few things regarding the wedding and my biodad, and although I had valid reasons for wanting what I did, I can’t help but think she died with her feelings hurt. I’m so sorry for that, too.

It’s so weird. Why am I feeling so many negative things right now? I loved them both and they loved me, but I can’t help but wonder if I showed them enough how much I cared. I don’t want to lose another person and wonder if they knew. So if I’m a little sappy with you over the next few days or weeks, just know it’s because I love you and you’re important to me. I need my family and friends to know that.

Grandma, I love you more than you could ever know and I miss you more than I ever thought possible. I think about you every day, even when it’s to tell myself I can’t think about you today because it hurts. It will always hurt, but I’m okay with that because it means I was lucky enough to have someone as wonderful as you in my life. I wish I still had you, but please know that I carry you in my heart everywhere I go.

I’ll always be your munchkin.


This, that and the other…

posted on Monday, November 4th, 2008 under General Ramblings |


Yeah, yeah. I voted. Now the games begin. It should be an interesting evening.


I went to a rememberance mass on Sunday at the church where Grandma V’s funeral was held. It served as no solace to light a fucking candle and have some priest we’ve never met hand us a rutabaga-looking enigma wrapped in tulle, reminiscent of a wedding favor (rub it in a little more, Jesus) and then solicit us for money. I am reminded how much I dislike most organized religion. In my opinion, Jesus is cool with the fact that I’m going to be pissed for a while. We’re honest with each other and that’s all anyone needs to know.


I went to see my Grandpa D the weekend before, and he showed us pictures of Grandma D’s headstone. It’s finally up…I need to go see her. I need closure. I want to say hi to Grandma V while I’m there, too. I hope they can be friends even though their kids got divorced. They were both pretty awesome women and they’d make each other laugh. That makes me feel a little better. What DOESN’T make me feel better is knowing that my Grandpa D is trying to tie up all the loose ends he possibly can so he can lay down and die. That’s not fair. I know he’s hurting more than I could ever imagine, but it’s not fair to my uncle, who is mentally handicapped and depends on him for everything, to have to say goodbye to both of his parents. It’s not fair to anyone, but most of all him. That makes me sad.


There was a toddler in line in front of me and my friend at our polling place this morning. That made voting the longest, snottiest, most stomach-churning hour and a half of my life. Seriously, the mother was a walking example of why procreation should be government regulated. If I need a license to drive, I should also need a license to bear offspring. The kid had no shoes on, a snotty nose that went unwiped the ENTIRE hour and a half we were there, she had a sippy cup that hit the floor so many times I lost count and was never cleaned off, she ran around while the mother stared off into space, only to be jolted back to reality when she heard the brat crying from across the room, and there were several times when I had to dodge the kid to keep from getting snot wiped on my new $4.00 Kohl’s clearance skirt. Gross. Not the skirt, it’s really cute…the kid. And her worthless excuse for a mother. I believe the kid’s name was Amethyst. Great, another stripper in the making. Just what the world needs.


The flu sucks. Now that I’ve had it, I don’t know if I should get a flu shot. I mean, the shot only protects against certain strains and the flu virus mutates a lot, so it’s not guaranteed that I wouldn’t get it again. I despise needles. I’ve already suffered through a week of flu hell…I’ve paid my dues for the season, right? Why waste $25 and get a sore arm at this point? Meh.


I brushed my dog last night. Let me tell you, that is some good therapy. It made him feel better, which made me feel better. He was happy and that made me happy. It’s amazing how much my dog influences my mood. My cat is pretty much a jerk in general, but he has his moments (like when he leapt over the dog because the he ran around the corner too fast and didn’t expect the dog to be there, so he arched his back while jumping in fear, resulting in an amazing display of kitty acrobatics). The fact that I have any sanity at all right now, though, is largely contributed to my wonderful dog.



And, of course, my husband. I love my hubs more than anything in the world, but he doesn’t come running to see me every time I walk in the door. He doesn’t follow me around the house because I’m his favorite human. He doesn’t watch me leave every morning with the saddest eyes in the world, making me feel guilty for having a fulltime job. Nothing in the world can equate to the unconditional love you get from a dog. No, you creepy offspring lovers, not even a child. No one can argue that! A dog will never pretend to not know you in public or get mad for displaying affection for him publicly. A dog won’t steal your car or smoke pot or break curfew. Plus, my dog (and cat, for that matter) can say mama, so I’m not missing a damn thing.


I’m done being random. But I’ll leave you with this…

That's just funny.


Tears and tanning don’t mix

posted on Monday, August 1st, 2008 under General Ramblings |

Yeah, yeah, I’m a crier. We know this. Especially when left alone with my thoughts in the silence of a radio-free tanning bed, apparently.

I hopped into my favorite bronzing bed for ten minutes of much-needed relaxation and pigment modification, with the hopes of squeezing in a nap. I should have known that wouldn’t happen, but I had hopes. Instead, my mind started racing, thinking about everything I need to do and everything that’s going on (all of this, while I was breathing! Imagine that!). Naturally, my thoughts turned to my parents moving and my sister trying to move, which led to one ultimate conclusion that led to the aforementioned tears…Grandma was the glue that held us together, and now that the glue is gone, my family is falling apart.

Let me tell you something about crying in a tanning bed – it’s retarded. Don’t do it. The goggles get all full of tears and then the tears start sliding down your face, only to be blown every which way across your face and down your neck before they dry into salty lines of pathetic misery that, if you aren’t careful, can actually cause your tanning efforts to make you look like a pasty version of Mike Tyson. Luckily, I wiped mine away before that could happen to me (again – hey, at least I learned my lesson).

But really…I never see my uncles, my aunt spaced on my wedding shower (I don’t generally care about getting gifts, but when a family member that I actually like fails to come to a shower because she FORGOT about it, that means she owes me something really good…it never would have happened if Grandma were here), my mom is moving three hours away, my sister wants to move to stupid Michigan and my cat keeps trying to run away. I doubt the latter has anything to do with this thought process, but it’s been pissing me off…no balls, no claws, do the math, you blue-eyed devil! (For the record, my cat actually does have blue eyes…and might actually BE the devil.)

*Sigh* What’s a girl to do? Once my family has moved away, it’ll just be me, Mr. T, Tedders and the spawn of Satan sitting around, staring at each other. Mr. T is so busy that it’ll most likely end up being just me, the dog and Hellkitteh staring at each other, especially when the wedding is over. At least I can stay distracted with that for now (hey, I found a bright side!)…

Ah, fucket. I can’t change it, so I have to deal with it. And by “deal with it,” I of course mean “avoid it, drink heavily and wallow in self pity.” Who wants to join me? Pity parties are more fun when you’re not alone! Besides, I’ve been told that drinking by myself might qualify me to be an alcoholic…you don’t want me to be an alcoholic, right?

Speaking of wallowing, I sure have been eating like a pig lately. I feel like a total porker. Maybe I’ll address that tomorrow – I’ve been considering attempting to start the GM diet to detox my system, but I hate tomatoes and don’t eat much beef, so a few days will be difficult. (Have I ever mentioned how picky I am when it comes to food? I’ll save that for another day, but it’s ridiculous.)

But before any crazy detox starts, I will spend the evening gorging myself on pasta followed by enjoying some old school entertainment – Boyz II Men at Live off the Levee! That’s right, you are SO jealous. You are going to miss action like this:


ABC-BBD, bitches!

Aw, hell…a tribute to Grandma

posted on Monday, June 18th, 2008 under Gushy stuff |

Today officially marks two months of life without Grandma. It sucks. There are good days and bad. I think about her everyday. I miss her everyday. I cry almost everyday. I’m so sad that I’m getting married in September and she won’t physically be there with me. So much in my life involved her, but by the same token, not enough involved her. I wish I had spent more time visiting with her at the home. I wish I had asked more questions about her life. I wish I had called her more. I still haven’t taken her number out of my phone. I can’t. It’s too permanent. I wish I hugged her more. I wish I hadn’t assumed she would just be around whenever I wanted to see her. I wish I hadn’t been so selfish when she was alive and had given her more of my time and shown her more of my love. As hard as it was for me to see her in a home, it must have been so much harder for her to actually be there, and I took that for granted. I would give anything in the world to see her flip the bird one more time. But I can’t, and that breaks my heart. It’s so easy to look back and see everything I did wrong while she was here…but for today, I think I’ll look back and remember some of my favorite stories.

Okay, Grandma, let’s take a walk down memory lane. Do you remember…

…how J and I would use your flyswatters as swords and run around your house pretending to be She-Ra?

…how Mom used to have to wait until She-Ra was over every single afternoon before she could take us home?

…that Halloween that we actually got She-Ra costumes?? I bet that saved a bunch of flyswatters from certain death.

…that time I was playing with the kids across the street and I came and asked if you would make us grilled cheese sandwiches? You said, “In a minute!” and I put my hand on my hip and busted out my best Michelle Tanner impersonation, saying, “Well, excuuuuuuuuuuuuse me!” And then the neighbor’s dad came over and wanted a sandwich, too? Those people were weird.

…how J was your pumpkin and I was your munchkin?

…when I slammed your fingers in the van door outside the bowling alley? I still cry when I think about how that hurt you. We bowled while you sat there with ice on your hands. I never got over how badly I felt about that.

…all those times we’d take you to Target and you’d holler at the cart boys, “Yoo hoo, boys! I’ve got two cute, single granddaughters!” Every time. Without fail. Funny now, mortifying then. But after Grandpa passed, you would get so mad when we’d see a single old fart at a restaurant and try to do the same.

…the old red car Grandpa used to drive? It didn’t even have seatbelts. You both smoked, so the vinyl interior always smelled like cigarettes. To this day, riding in a car that belongs to a smoker is so comforting and makes me think of that car.

…how Mom and I used to fight all the time? When we’d come over and take you shopping, Mom would walk away to get something and you’d ask what was wrong. I’d tell you and then later find out that you told Mom I told you…and I always glossed over the parts of the stories that incriminated me, but you always found out…and you’d yell at both of us and make us make up.

…how you’d always say, “Aw, hell” after anyone told a dirty joke or teased you? It was always after you laughed, though, so we knew you weren’t mad. Or offended. You just liked to play innocent, but we know the truth.

…how, without fail, regardless of what time we arrived, you’d ask us “Do you want a soda? Do you want a Little Debbie?” every time we walked in your front door? Before we left, at least one of us had to have a soda and eat a Debbie…

…the green pickle elevator? You had that green tupperware container with the white lid that had a matching green insert that lifted pickles out of the juice so you could grab them. I loved that thing, and you always let me eat as many pickles as I wanted.

…how S smoked pot in your basement all the time so we’d have to yell down first before we went down to play Nintendo with him? I always thought your basement smelled weird…and then biodad took me to a Ringo Starr concert when I was about 13 and, as we walked past the lawn, I said, “That’s weird. It smells like Grandma’s basement here.” Biodad did look a little guilty, now that I think about it. You know, I was in my twenties before I put it all together…I was a little sheltered.

…how you’d say, “Holy cow, look at that big fat ass” every time an obese person passed us in public? And you never said it quietly. Sure, it was mean, but it was honest and that was just part of your overwhelming charm.

…how Matt thought you were joking every time you flipped him off? Dumbass.

…how you kicked breast cancer’s ass? You may have lost one boob in the process, but like you always said, the other one wasn’t much more than a fried egg anyway…besides, having a one-boobied grandma was pretty cool to brag about.

…how there was an earthquake not two hours after you passed? I knew you wouldn’t go quietly, and that you’d make an entrance when you got to the pearly gates.

…how much we all love you? You were truly one of a kind and I was blessed to have you as my Grandma.

Thank you for babysitting J and me for so many years and not killing us. Thank you for being the peacekeeper, but also for stirring the pot. Thank you for all the laughs, all the tears, all the strength you taught us. Thanks for fighting so hard and beating breast cancer and three strokes. Thanks for always being there for me. Thanks for always being honest with me. Thanks for so many things I can’t possibly express at this moment.

I’ll never forget all the time we had together. I’ll never stop missing you, but maybe someday, my heart will hurt a little less. I’ll never stop loving you, because that would simply be impossible. I will forever take you with me everywhere I go. I am a piece of you and you are a piece of my heart and soul. I love you so much. Here’s to you, Grandma. May I someday be a third of the woman you were. And twice the smartass.


I love you!

Now that is one huge.fat.ass.

posted on Monday, June 4th, 2008 under General Ramblings |

That was the first thing I thought when I walked into the gym today. Admittedly, I’m horrible. I mean, good for her – the gym is exactly what she needs. But my god, that was a huge ass. You know the kind – you see it and your brain starts playing all these sound effects of what the fat must sound like as it moves with each step. Glug, urgle, rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp, baJUNG baJUNG, flplflp…


Of course, immediately after I thought that, I silently retracted and sent her some mental kudos. My Jedi mind powers have weakened of late, so I don’t think she got them. Ah, well. I know I’m a hypocrite (hey, it’s part of my charm) but I just can’t help it. In fact, I think my tendency to pass judgement is part of the reason I’m so self conscious. I mean, I’m no size 2, that’s for sure. I, too, need to be at the gym (unlike that skinny bitch in the mini-shorts, KNEE SOCKS and sports bra – I bet she’s a stripper. Come on, argyle knee socks? At the GYM? At least they were pink…but I still hate her. Wait, what was I talking about?? Oh, yeah…)


If everyone else thinks the way I do (God help us all), I probably shouldn’t leave the house. Tim constantly tells me how terrible I am because I constantly critique people (THAT is a trait I got from Grandma – she called ‘em as she saw ‘em, especially the big fat asses). It’s my form of entertainment, but let me qualify that a little. I only do it to celebrities and total strangers…and people I know but don’t like…and people I only like on Thursdays. Once you’re in the Sass Club, you’re perfect. I love my friends for everything they are (and generally, even more for everything they aren’t), so there’s no need to pass further judgement. But if those jeans make you look fat, I’m gonna tell ya. And if you piss me off, I’m not only going to tell YOU about it, but everyone I’ve ever met plus the internets.


At the end of the day, it’s all good. Fat bitches need love, too. Grandma, this one’s for you…(note: this far exceeds the fatness of the aforementioned ass…)



My subconscious is an asshole.

posted on Monday, June 3rd, 2008 under General Ramblings |

Seriously. My grandma died over a month ago. She was hands down the most fabulous human being ever to grace this planet and I will miss her everyday for the rest of my life. I know this. So why does my subconscious brain insist on toying with my emotions by forcing me to dream about her so much? Last night was the worst. It was as if my brain was watching two different TV shows at one, and some asshat decided to flip between the two all night. First, she was alive and we were hanging out and life was good. *Flip* Now I’m walking with my aunt and uncle, crying and talking about how much I miss her. *Flip* Back to happy. *Flip* Back to sad. It was like that all damn night. I can’t take it. Combine that with my dog tap dancing next to the bed all night because it was storming and he couldn’t go out and my cat being a general bastard and it makes for one sleep-deprived Sass.


Oddly enough, aside from crying my way to work this morning, I’ve managed to be in a relatively good mood. I attribute that to my evening of staring at Albert Pujol’s pujol last night. We had awesome seats at the Cards game last night. Tim is the love of my life, but Albert has been my Cardinals boyfriend since before we met, so I really can’t help it. Show me your Pujol!

Pujols, indeed


Pick your Pujol


Um, not like that...


Ah, the joys of baseball. Even though we lost, I still had a blast. Any Molina fans out there? I’ve got you covered. Say hello to my little friend…

Moli, moli, moli


Do the humpty-hump

Baseball, pantomime style

I squish your head.