Pretty Boy Dog 911

Nothing can get your heart racing faster than coming home to an emergency. I did just that tonight when I came home and Cabal didn't come to the door right away. When he finally made his way to me, he was limping and whimpering.

I examined him and the surroundings and surmised that he must've slipped on the rug by the door when he tried to get up earlier. Poor thing! How long ago did it happen? Was he in terrible pain? Did he fracture his leg? One horrible thought raced after the other until a voice of action finally won.

Cabal doesn't like car rides and I needed another person to help me get him still. I called Tawnyia (ever the saint) to help me take him to FVS (Florida Vet Services) for an emergency visit. We were there last year when he had a bladder infection. It is a veterinary teaching hospital with the latest equipment; I knew we would be in great hands.

We checked in and were taken to a waiting/exam room. My boy was restless, but he was good. I was more agitated. Here's a picture of him while we were there waiting for the doctor.

A nurse came in to get the story. AGOL Rule#1 in an emergency: "Stop asking me so many f&*^ing questions!". Yes, I know they need to get a background, but it just gets me going. Luckily, she was nice and didn't work my nerve too much.

The lady vet came in later with a timid intern. This lady totally rocked! She may give my vet a run for his money. She was gentle with my boy, but thorough. The intern had to do her own exam and she worked my nerve. Easy on my boy's leg, will ya? Aargh...

PBD had gone to the vet last week for his annual shots and teeth cleaning. AND THEN...on Tuesday this week, I had to pick up an ointment for his eyes since his allergies were kicking in. And now this trip. The prognosis was mild. He pulled a muscle and has to take some pain management meds.

We got home by 10PM and Tawnyia was able to get home and get some dinner. Cabal got his dinner and was eager to play even after all the excitement. We didn't of course. Crisis averted.

Update: It is Thursday...I came home to Cabal running in a circle while jumping. All I could do was chastise him about the emergency visit the night before. The meds were definitely in full gear. We did play tug with this rope bone, but no chasing or long runs in the apartment. He didn't appreciate it, but I decided to bribe him with a massage instead. You know, it doesn't matter what species, all males can be bribed with a massage. Let's keep that a secret, okay?

Pretty Boy Dog 911

Double-OH My Goddess!

Daniel Craig is definitely the new generation of James Bond. His eyes gleamed like twin bright sapphires amid his uber manliness on screen and the mayhem that surrounded him during the movie "Casino Royale". This film was filled with long action sequences and good old-fashioned grit as opposed to too many gadgets and smarmy double entendres with large-bosomed dumbshells to sell the story. It was double-oh madness!

I've been a fan of the James Bond franchise ever since I can remember even while living in the Philippines as a little girl. There is just something of this spy character that you'd like to join him in his adventure assignments and makes you antipicate his next. It was a very exhilirating way to spend lunchtime today.

You might have guessed that I am in full agreement with this new blond Bond. While he doesn't replace Sean Connery (who can ever?), he does give him a run for his money as top gun, Walther PPK to be exact. George Lazenby got lost in his chin dimple, Roger Moore was better in "The Saint", and I cannot get over Timothy Dalton being in "Flash Gordon".

No, I didn't forget Pierce Brosnan. He just wasn't ready to take on the role while he was playing "Remington Steele" and I loved him in the show. He wasn't fine wine yet...aged to perfection. I joined the world in rabid excitement when he debuted as James Bond in "Goldeneye" and reprised the role three more times, but alas his number was retired much to our surprise -- and his!

Back to Mr. Craig...He was definitely prepared for his role as JB; his pectoral muscles were in full effect, but that's not why (ha!). He played a more complicated Bond seen in the brooding looks that told more than it kept hidden. He was also nicely rough around the edges, a trait befitting a very physical spy and lending him a hand to put his own stamp to the role.

Thank you to the designer Brioni for outfitting James Bond once again with a proper "dinner jacket". It was quite the scorcher moment when Mr. Craig was enrobed in his custom threads. Something about a well-dressed man makes for a gift you'd like to unwrap slowly.

You know I've been in martini heaven lately so watching him order and sip them was almost Seventh Heaven. I prefer mine shaken not stirred. It might "bruise" the vodka, but it sure ups the ante!

Special Disclaimer: No vodka was harmed before, during or after the post...okay, not right after.

Double-OH My Goddess!

We say "Grassy Ass" in the South

Amid my tryptophan haze, I am mulling over my very first "Un-Thanksgiving". This is the first Thanksgiving celebration in my 35 years without any family member (except Pretty Boy Dog, Cabal). It has been a mixture of sadness, relief and maybe a little bit of triumph from the freedom of choice.

One sure fire way to piss off your family or at least confound them is to abstain from attending a holiday gathering. They look at you as if you were an alien and may even call you periodically to see if you have somehow changed your mind. Your dear friends invite you, too, in case it is your family you are trying to get away from.

Sometimes you want to change things and see if it makes a difference. Be a holiday rebel! Yes, it sounds lame, but I double-dog dare you to say "no" to your own families and spend thanksgiving in your own home. It is not easy. Well, dammit I did it! Will I do it again next year? I truly don't know.

I did have turkey, homemade items like stuffing, gravy and sweet potato casserole with marshmallows, steamed broccoli (didn't have greenie-beanie fixins so I improvised), steamed corn, cranberry sauce from a can, and of course -- jasmine rice! For dessert, I had a slice yummy pumpkin pie from Publix topped with a perfect dollop of whipped topping and a side cup of latte. Later, I might have some eggnog with a smidge (ha!) of rum. Needless to say, I have plenty of leftovers.

Cabal even enjoyed some turkey and he may have the rest since I don't really care for it as a leftover even drowned in gravy. He is thankful, I'm sure. I won't say exactly what kind of turkey we had, but suffice it to say, I didn't oven bake my own. I've had this weird thing with cooking a whole turkey. I don't have issue with it already cooked and ready to carve. It's the pre-turkey prep -- it reminds me of cooking a toddler! Isn't that disgusting? Try holding a 20-lb. turkey or carrying it across the kitchen; I can almost lose my dinner thinking about it.

While writing this blog, I got a call from my Filipina cousin testing the waters and to see if I am harboring a sexy man in my apartment. She's thinking it could be the reason why I cut out this year. If I had a sexy man in my apartment, I would've made mashed potatoes and I definitely wouldn't be answering the phone!

In the end, I am thankful today and every day for the big things and for the little things, too. I am thankful for the courage needed to spend thanksgiving my way, Cabal for the company, the food I was able to cook, my family who still love me, my friends who still love me, and for all of them letting me be me.

Salamat, Merci, Danke, Arigato, and with no Southern accent -- Gracias!

We say "Grassy Ass" in the South

Banc d'Karma

I haven't shopped for Christmas gifts yet and I am already tired! The last two weeks have been nuts. It all started with having to tell the payroll lady that the extra $5000 deposited in my checking account was an error. Imagine having to write that e-mail -- I almost cried!

Apparently, in processing their new payroll system that is now in-house and local, they did run into some errors one of which was depositing a rather large comission check into my checking account including my regular payroll. How did I first find out? I checked my ATM receipt from the night before on my way to my hair appointment. At first I thought it was someone else's, but the withdrawal amount was a unique amount so I knew it was mine. I had to wait a few hours until I got back home to check online banking and the extra advice I received in the mail.

It was tempting to not say anything, but only for a few moments, you know how karma works...The e-mail was written, they were thankful and the money was sucked backed out....sigh. It is all for the best and I know I will receive it back...when I don't know. I will post a ginormous update when it does!

While reality was setting in, I wrapped up some stuff at work so I could get ready for the HOE party on Sunday the 19th and for taking Thanksgiving week off. I was doing the Happy Asian Fast Walk...dust followed my feet wherever I went.

Handmade Felt Heart in Dazzling AGOL Tree!

The HOE party was a success thanks to my little divas who attended and the way cool appletinis! I started out using half Absolut Vodka and half Rose's Sour Apple Mix which produced a potent appletini with a smooth finish. One of my divas had the idea to cut it down with a healthy splash of the spiced apple cider I had made and that took it into AGOL heights of appletini ecstasy! This drink will now forever be called the HOE-tini.

All the yummy food was no match for the chocolate fountain surrounded with mini chocolate pretzels, giant marshmallows, squares of pound cake, honey graham sticks to use with marshmallow fluff to drown in the liquid love dripping from the fountain to make S'mores. Even the buttery rum cake got a drenching under the liquid curtain. My divas were way too creative....or happy-happy from the appletinis.

My divas left with AGOL loving vibes and the ornaments they exchanged. I did a heinous thing this year of not having any ornaments completed so I owe them next week. It was almost too much for the AGOL this year: the army of plates & food prep and the decorations. They were okay with it especially after getting to be a part of the whole HOE experience.

A very special thank you goes to my helper and great friend 'Bobwana' for last minute table prep and cooking help. This woman is a saint to put up with the AGOL. I have contributed 1/4 of the points in her karmic bank. Even though she was a peasant in her last life and an AGOL slave (echelons higher than peasant) in this life, she just might get to be a queen in her next life. Long Live Queen Bobwana!

Banc d'Karma

One of These Peeps (Is Not Like The Others)

One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?
--from Sesame Street, by Joe Raposo and Jon Stone

This song and "Le Freak" by Chic have got to be my theme songs. If you're like me, the universe speaks to you in songs. Endless soundtracks run through my head at any given moment. It can be disconcerting especially when they become messages for the day.

Being a SINK (single income no kids) and thinking about your "upcoming plans" for the holidays just turns the amp on the Sesame Street song. This year I made the break with Thanksgiving so I wouldn't have to hear it repeating all day in between bites trytophan-laden turkey, my requisite rice & gravy and the ever favorite greenie-beanie casserole at some relative's house, usually at my aunt's. Did I mention being left out of conversations because I don't have kids in school or married to a superdad? It all started with a resolve and ended with the dreaded phone call.

On Wednesday, "Yakety Sax" from The Benny Hill Show blasted from my ho-tress pink Razr startling me from staring too long at the red LED lights stating "Now Serving 48" at the deli counter. I was number 52. It was my aunt calling and it was time for a phone call showdown. Four-foot ten inches of Filipino power against my five-foot eight inches of Whitey (my skin). How can one not crumble at the seemingly innocent question of one so...sweet?

Sweet Auntie: "Hi, Sarah Jane. It's your auntie."
Whitey: "Oh, hello. How are you? I am at Publix."
Sweet Auntie: "You are?....What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"
Whitey: "I am staying at home." (GULP!)
...and like she didn't hear me.....
Sweet Auntie: "Anyway, we are having dinner at 2:00."
Whitey: "That's nice. Thanks, but I am staying at home."
...now we have scope and crosshairs...
Sweet Auntie: "You are? (interminable silence!) Well....ok, but we're having dinner at 2:00 in case you change your mind."
Whitey: "Thank you. I will keep that in mind."

We said our goodbyes leaving her stunned and me guilty as a scum who kicked a cute puppy. How the hell do families do it? Is there a chalice of guilt passed on from one family to another? (When do I get it, goddammit?!)

The last five years have just really worked my nerve when it comes to holidays. I thought I would have my own family by now and be having my own Thanksgivings, but the universe hasn't been singing my tune. There's always a power play of who's going to get me at their table or tables if I decide to drive from one end of town to the next to do two for the day. We dutiful cousins/nieces hate to disappoint....AARGH!!! Now, don't get me wrong -- I am blessed to have a caring family, but I can't deny how I feel. This year is the year I say "no". I did. It's over.

Sigh. Not quite. Thanksgiving is still 11 days away. Please pass me the chalice with the guiltless gin, rational rum or better yet triumphant tequila.

One of These Peeps (Is Not Like The Others)

Top 7 Reasons Why It's Called "Trampa"

You might notice me referring to Tampa as "Trampa" or Tampa Bay as "Trampa Bay". It is a well-earned moniker thanks to the "trampolinas" that live or come here.

1) "Pirates", the successful porn movie, was partially filmed on HMS Bounty docked at the Pier in St. Petersburg under the guise that it was a PG-13 film. By the time the 'powers that be' found out the real deal through embarrassing rumours, footage and various BS red tape, the booty had definitely been plundered.

2) "Too Pretty to Go to Jail" Debra Lafave taught school in Trampa. Now thanks to her security anklet, she's being homeschooled.

3) Two visiting Panthers cheerleaders got caught in restroom catfight with other patrons because they were busy purring over each other in the stall.

4) We have several helpings of the recommended daily allowance of strip clubs and sex shops. It's a miracle we're in a Red State, but then again sometimes we have more than one Bush in this state. They just fly on in Trampa -- if we're lucky, we might get a Dick, too.

5) A very familial establishment called Hooters was born in Clearwater. I must admit I do like the breaded wings, but the eye-popping atmosphere is wasted on me. Okay, I get comic disbelief.

6) We're forever associated with the hanging chads thanks to past Florida elections when many of us just want a well-hung Chad.

7) Trampolinas rock! Now have some "Bite My Ass" cookies, because we love it y'all!

Top 7 Reasons Why It's Called "Trampa"

No Rewrites, Just Repeats

I feel a river of emotions
each one distinct, looking
for its own path
yet entwining with each
other to forge ahead
as fast as they can go.

I feel helpless as
they course through
me.

Where do I go?

It's temporary this suspension.
I know. I know.
I know I can't help feel
the red rivulets spilling.
My cup runneth over.

There are not enough rags
of hope and compassion
to soak this liquid fire.

Anger is difficult to control
especially when it is a down
and out conflagaration.

Do you stifle it?
Do you start from the bottom?
or do you fight fire with its
own by drowning it?

I can't breathe.
I succumb
only to be rescued by an angel.


Note: Sometimes you just have to get it out (again). This one was from 2000. Our days are not always pretty; we just try to deal with them. Tomorrow is another.

No Rewrites, Just Repeats

Early H.O.E. Gets The Invite

H.O.E. 2006 Invitation

Receiving one of these invitations from me is accepting a mix of thrill, year round anticipation, and some dread. What started as a joke to accessorize my tree with ornaments has turned into quite the mini gala. This is the sixth year I am hosting a H.O.E. (Handmade Ornament Exchange) Party where I invite over a dozen other friends and family to participate in exchanging the same amount of ornaments...mostly handmade. Some have been so paralyzed by trying to outdo the others that they got "artist's block" and had to buy them at the last minute!

The Sunday before Thanksgiving has now been the date to mark on the calendar and this year I am serving Paninis and Christmartinis in addition to the buffet of goodies that has come to be expected every year which include mini quiches, brie with cranberry rum sauce on top, crab wontons & artichoke wontons, Filipino eggrolls (lumpia), rum cake, chocolate ganache cupcakes, etc., etc., etc. Who can live (gasp!) without the glorious creation of a chocolate fountain?!! My girls know to come hungry.

I am humbled and flattered that this event has come to mean so much to my group to both the veterans and the newbies. That is why I have to start decorating inside for Christmas this week. My 6-ft tree with 1200 lights isn't magically delicious just by thinking about it. A lot of cursing goes into that creation. Yes, I have to let Trampa International Airport know about the possible plane diversions because of the bright lights coming from my apartment. Besides, with the constant urban sprawl Santa needs a little help knowing where his AGOL lives! He knows when he's nice, I'll be -- I think you know the rest. HOE! HOE! HOE!

Early H.O.E. Gets The Invite

Fall-La-La Means I Love You

AGOL's Fall Dining Table Decor

Me no love fall long time - only three weeks! Autumn in Trampa can be sporadically felt and seen, but it is by no means as colourful as driving through Wisconsin in October. So indoors we go decorating! I got suckered into going to an open house last month where the candlesticks and the soup tureen seen here were 50% off from last year's stock. Did it stop there? Noooo. AND THEN, I had to go to Pier 1 Outlet and get the last six very shiny pumpkin-colored napkins to drape underneath my fall tableau and the colossal candles which do smell like exotic cloves. AND THEN, I had to get long green glass blobbies to scatter along with real oak leaves (treated to last) as if fall "blew" in. Couldn't you just gag?

AGOL Confession: I am decorating this week for Christmas...more on that tomorrow.

Fall-La-La Means I Love You

Is Q-tip rude?

Welcome to Trampa -- just one of the luxurious suites in God's Waiting Room aka Florida. We have every imaginable kind of elderly: The Blue Hairs, The Q-tips, The Snowbirds, The Slowazz Muthafahkahs on the Road, and the elite 'Retirees' who sometimes cheekily call themselves 'Retarded'.

With the plethora of elderly cliques to choose from, we also have as many types of domiciles. You can pick from The Son's House, The Daughter's House, The Trailer Parks, The Campers, The Timeshares, The Condos, The Dream Homes in Snubville and the very dreaded ghetto of elderly places lovingly called The Nursing Homes.

Of course, I got to visit again one of the lesser known domiciles: The Rehabilitation Center. Let's just call it The Limbo Lodge. That is where Nan lives while we wait for her to recover from her surgeries.

Yesterday's visit was a steep exercise in emotional control. I didn't maintain it nor did I try harder to keep it after I got home. The burden of knowing what the elderly endure is almost as bad the crime of stashing them away so you're not reminded or bothered.

Nan was glad to see me as was her roommate Maxine. I hadn't been the only visitor at the Lodge today. My cousin Dave's recent visit was evidenced by the chocolate shake still sweating on her table. I inquired about her dinner menu, but she couldn't remember. I then turn to Maxine and asked her what dinner was and she replied, "It was liver, but I turned it away". Blecch -- liver!

Here was a freakish moment: Nan mentioned that her husband had died on Sunday and he was buried today. Consequently, her son with the same name did die on Sunday and he was cremated today. (Enter Twilight Zone theme.)

Nan's memory timeline and facial recall kept rearranging itself as we spoke about her childhood Christmases and growing up in her parents home. I didn't correct her on some things. What would be the point? Would it matter 20 years from now? I hope her ignorance IS bliss while we wait to take her home to The Son's House.

Is Q-tip rude?

Saints and the Sinners Who Chase Them

I visited a living saint today. We call her Nan, but her real name is Edna and she is 92 years young. She is currently living in a rehabilitation center (mostly) for the elderly. Surviving her second double-hip surgery in less than six months has taken it's toll on her, but she looked healthier when I came around the corner and saw her sitting in her wheelchair this evening across from her new roommate, Maxine.

Kissing her on top of her white Dr. Suess-like hair, I felt a slight squeeze on my heart. This incredible woman who had raised three good men (one being my uncle) and had been married for 50 plus years to the same man had a cast accessorizing her right arm...Sigh. We also hadn't told her that eldest son had passed on Sunday. It will be a gentle telling by my aunt and uncle after his funeral this week.

Nan has lived a clean life, if you will. She believes in her Lord and abides by his laws. As far as I know, she never drank, smoke or cursed like how we do now. She will also never realize how good she has made me feel about myself thanks to two things she said to me on separate occasions.

Once Nan told me what a sweet voice I had when everyone else just tells me my voice would be good for a phone actress. If you've received three independent e-mails from friends in the same day with a link to such a job opening, you know it to be true. I've been asked in the past to be the voice on a few professional voicemails, too.

Another time, Nan told me what a good nurse I was when I helped take care of her at my aunt and uncle's home. My inner light shined to blind and I felt I was really "good". I didn't think I needed any validation since I've learned how to deflect (or was that numb) myself from negativity. When you've grown up being forcefed other people's inherited poison, you forget your worth until an earth angel gives you a reminder. It was a bittersweet feeling.

I've realized as an adult that other people's damage needn't be mine even when the scars have already healed over to remind me of what I have endured. Each of us can make a choice to change ourselves and improve our karmic bank. For that reason, I try valiantly to be kind and be extra aware of people who need a kind word or need some sort of validation that they exist and matter.

Nan has definitely made me feel that I exist and I matter. It is with great sadness that she now suffers from dementia. She forgets things and the order of her history. Tonight she reminded me her husband had died, a fact now almost 20 years old...

Maxine sat quietly in her chair while Nan and I talked, but I did manage to have her share her life story with me. She, too, had lost a husband after 58 years of marriage. She's been living in the rehab center because of her health needs due to asthma and other breathing difficulties. Maxine missed her dear love Curtis; she wished she had died when he did.

Good golly! Between these two grand dames, they had been married over 100 years. I've never even been married one! They highlight the good memories, but I know they both had their struggles. I watched Maxine's memories embrace her face like a familiar lover when she talked about how she met Curtis. Maybe one day my memories will affect me the same way.

Nan had become impatient to change into her nightgown and was downright stubborn about it, but I'd say she's earned it. She remarked on how she was used to doing for herself and I told her that it is because she was so kind that she now has wonderful people helping her. I added another bit of reaping what one has sown. My little saint smiled as this seemed to comfort her in her dependency to others.

Aging is human disease. Not to sound macabre, but we age to die in our earthly costumes. Our souls are whole even when our bodies fail us. Maxine had bemoaned the fact she couldn't do the things she was used to doing with Nan echoing the same. I felt a squeeze in my chest again. Time has robbed these women of their lost loves and their independence, chasing them into their next journey in life. A little dose of cruel never hurts in the end, right?

It was time to leave my wispy haired women so they could prepare for bedtime. The visit didn't all reside in ennui, but I wore them out with jokes and gentle teasing. I forget that they may not handle laughing like the rest of us young 'uns. I left them each with a kiss, a goodnight wish and a warning that I would be coming back the next evening. (Teehee.)

Saints and the Sinners Who Chase Them