happiness is...

pondering nature's beauty with your big sis.

l.a. dodgers

Shame, shame Chief Ron and Co. What can I say that I haven't said already?

And Rob Thomas...right on, dude!

remembered

To you. Those we knew and those we didn't. Thank you for your service and sacrifice. The tears of your loved ones continue to fall like rain on this cloudy day. I pray for courage and strength in the hearts you've left behind and that one day war will be nothing but a memory..a dog-eared page in our history book. Bloodless, quiet...and peaceful discourse, our only weapon.

be yourself

mother interrupted

My name is Mama Mags. I haven't checked my Wall in one hour and seven minutes.
Good Lord. You'd think my friends who know my obsessive-compulsive personality for what it is would steer their buddy, old pal away from Facebook, but no. They boondoggled me right on into pimping a page, poking behind my husband's back and even divulging 25 Random Things About Me. Hell, I didn't think there were more than 5 or 6, tops. Who knew I could be so deep? But here I sit, wine to the right, ignoring the offspring and left clicking myself back into my lost youth. Great. Just what my mid-life crisis needed..seeing how good everybody looks after all these years while I count my forehead furrows. But I chose to dive right on in with the masses, smearing Vaseline on the profile pic and for the past couple a weeks or so have scuba'ed myself into all that is the hum-drumery of my pal's lives...mine included. I'm using the Send a Round application like a college drop-out and spend most of my day double fisted. I figure virtual drinks are probably better for my shriveled liver than the real ones..so it's all good. And what's with this incessant need to friend everyone? I've never been the popular type that had an entourage...just a couple of good, loyal pals were all I ever needed in life..but once you cross over, it's like you're 50 Cent and can't get enough posse to post & play with.

Yes, if My Space is the slut of social networking then Facebook is the tweaked out coke-head and I'm gonna have to cool it eventually. Besides, Big Brother starts up in another month and that's all this old girl will have time for. Hey, I know where my priorities fall, okay? It's funny though, underneath all the manic commenting, tagging & What Kind of Mental Illness Are You, I see that I've been pretty darn good already at remaining in touch with the important peeps in my life and I've done it the old fashioned way- picking up the horn & then going out and getting tanked over a few....yeah, before all this new-fangled cyber tech mumbo jumbo came along. I don't think there's really anyone else out there in my leg-warmered past, undiscovered, whom it would be dire that I re-friend, but who knows? My promiscuous boyfriend who dumped me back in '85 still has my favorite pair of Levis & my Husker Du album, damn him. I've since ditched the turntable..but my kid's Mariposa Barbie could really use the jeans. And I would kinda like to see if he's lost his hair yet. Oh, I'm so bad.

Just like all rivers find the sea..my two rug rats will continue to be the reality-check mallet that I need and this lost weekend will come to a final log-out sooner or later, and I'll have to get back to cooking for them and hanging my robe up before noon. They've seen the insidious face of addiction with me and my Kashi trail mix bars, so nothin' really scares 'em. My oldest, being the feisty Gemini she is, doesn't hold back. The other day, in the quiet, dark wee hours of the morning, I was fully engrossed by the Crackbook News Feed. Like a Jaguar she crept- softly, silently..appearing ghost-like in the office doorway and scaring the bejesus right out of me. Bed-headed, with a hand on her hip, she says, "Mom, quit your brain squashing and make me some breakfast."

we're waiting...

godspeed

No matter how many times I see it, it always humbles and amazes me.

separated at birth

toothless wonder

The days go by quickly. Our babies grow so fast, meeting their thresholds one right after the other, whether we're ready for it or not. This simple quiet joy, as cushy as a favorite throw..is my greatest treasure on this Mother's Day and always. From picnics in the park, lazy days spent reading by a sunny window or writing letters to the Tooth Fairy..it is within these tiny moments my heart is at its fullest. Thank you for the hand painted box you made me, girls, but most of all, thank you for waking up the part of me that is my best part.

in the heazy

Oh, that Rahm, "...always has a hard time on Mother's Day. He's just not used to saying the word 'day' after 'mother'".

Kudos, Mr. Prez. It looks like your delivery & timing is right on key like everything else about ya. I had a welcome chuckle or two channel surfing onto the correspondents din-din last night, and I bet that 200 dollar petit filet never tasted better. From Bluetooths for the Pope to the right for Mrs. Obama to "bare arms"...it felt good not to think about the housing market for 21 minutes. And Wanda , you killed girl...I don't care what they say. If the heat's to hot in the kitchen, Mr. Limbaugh, then you know what to do.

the variables

I've studied relativistic physics my entire life. One thing emerged over and over- can't change the past. Can't do it. Whatever happened, happened..right? But then I finally realized... I had been spending so much time focused on the constants, I forgot about the variables. Do you know what the variables in these equations are, Jack? Us. We're the variables. People. We think. We reason. We make choices. We have free will. We can change our destiny.

tally-ho

Oh, man. This is harsh. A Brit got Mama's dream job. He gets to sit on his ass in a cool pad overlooking the Great Barrier Reef and blog about it all day. I guess it would have helped had I remembered to enter the darn thing. And apparently...had ridden an ostrich at some point.

true green

It's pretty easy to meet people. Far more difficult to find a lifelong friend. There are times when the stars align just right and when it comes to good pals, this gal really got lucky. I attended a 50th birthday blow-out for my bud, Tim, this past weekend. Anyone who is anyone attended the St. Louian gala. Lights twinkled in the trees, glasses clinked, laughs were had in abundance and the local transplant list for livers in need probably lengthened by about 50.

It really moved me to see the outpouring of love that filled the rooms of Tim's rowhouse on Saturday. It made me proud to know him. I heard a lot of funny stories of days gone by, met many o' cousin (boy, those Catholics sure can breed) and the smile on his face was just about the nicest thing going. It is always amazing to see the difference that one little person can make in the lives of others, how fortunate we are to find these kind of peeps when we do and what a profoundly empty place there is in a heart that doesn't have them. We've had a grand 21 years together, he and I. And I'm grateful for every one of 'em. Rain or shine. In good times or bad. Always...always..being able to find something to laugh about.

This one's for you, Timmy. Scary hairdos and all. My apologies, as it does not come with a cork.

Relax. I did not drink while I was pregnant. We took that shot to freak my mom out.