Nat.

I'm going to start off by saying that it is 03:42 when I am starting this entry. I am working night shift later today, and decided to stay awake as late as I possibly could (as was my norm in my single, permanent night shift, life.) Of course, it includes a bit of wine. OK. Maybe even more than a bit. The cats are asleep in their baskets, Greg is doing the 'Starfish' in the bed. But I'm having a good time. And it seems like a good idea to write.

Nat and his wife Betty, live in the apartment across from the elevator. Depending on the season, there is a different door ornament. Right now, there are brown and ivory corn husks hanging.
They are a couple pushing their 80's, and they have been married for over 50 years. Betty is always impeccably dressed and her clothes often match her bright blue eyes. She is the epitomy of a lady.
Nat wears a Fedora, a suit, and keeps himself busy with his daily business, whatever that may be. I'm sure that the whole neighbourhood knows him.
I see Nat every day, he lives two units away from me, and every time I met him, it's for the first time.
Nat, has Alzheimers. He is the most sweetest man in the world, and every time I meet him, he makes my day. He tells me the same damn stories every single time. I've heard stories about his three sons. They are all either in trucking or mining, but for the life of him, he can't remember the names of their wives. But he knows that they are good women, and they have lovely grandchildren, but he can't remember their names, either.
Every time I meet Nat, it's a new introduction. The gentlemanly handshake, the lift of the Fedora. (My heart melts!) He introduces himself, and asks me my name. Once in a while he remembers to check his list that he keeps in his left breast pocket, and looks for my name. He'll tell me that he's got me on his list, but he's so sorry...he just doesn't remember meeting me...although, he loves my teeth, and they look awfully familiar! (Anybody who knows my gappy-toothed smile might know what he's talking about!)

Meeting Nat, is like being Bill Murray in Ground-Hog Day. It's always the same, but always a little different.

One story that Nat keeps telling me is about the days that he was a manager at the mines in Atacoca. He got the job straight out of University of Toronto Engineering, back in the 1950's. Worked there for years. One day the alarms went off and as it turned out, one of the workers got caught in the mining machinery.
The alarms were clanging...Nat got called. The poor man was dead as a door nail and flat as a pancake (Nat's words) Nat went to this worker's Wife and personally told her the news that her husband was dead, and how sorry he was.
What strikes me about this story, is that I have heard it probably about 10 times. Nat doesn't remember his daughter-in-laws names, or what they do, he doesn't remember his grandchildrens names. He doesn't remember my name, although he sees me very regularly and we spend a lot of time together.
But he remembers this death. And I know he has somehow, always felt responsible for this.
And he strikes me as such a Gentleman.
Gentle. Man.

Nat, in the midst of his Alzheimers, turned a really bad evening, into an evening, that if I really think about it, brings tears to my eyes, and makes a terrible evening all worth it.

Remember this night?

Well, Nat saved the night.
Mainly by distracting us. He could have told us anything, we were just so not interested in continuing the argument.
I remember one of the questions I asked him that night, was what was the secret to a happy marriage?
His answer was something like this:
.they always had enough money
.he feels he made a contribution in life
.every night he goes to bed thinking about Betty

It kind of put everything into perspective. And when I asked him how long he had been married. He said he couldn't remember. But it didnt' really matter.

I hope I have that kind of marriage. (without the Alzheimers.)

Here's the Plan:

Tomorrow night, for the first time since I've met Greg, I am picking up a night shift. Did you hear that?! Night Shift!!!
Not only that, I am psyching myself up for 2 more night shifts on Monday and Tuesday.
I must have my head examined.
Tomorrow night. Tomorrow Night?! OMG! It's already tomorrow! It's 02:46 as I'm typing this.
I am working a nightshift today.
And trying to stay awake. To psych myself up. For tomorrow. Night.
Tonight.

And the Answer is:

The closest guess to yesterday's question was AtPanda over at Putting Out Fires who guessed that it was the root system of a downed tree. It is actually dritwood that was found at the beach when the lake water drains. Go check out Amanda's site! I've only recently been introduced to her, and her site looks great! She is an engineer, the recently married wife of a firefighter, is a world traveller, and has many interesting things to write about. Thanks to all who took a guess at my blurry picture!

The Question is:

In keeping with the other day's theme...Any idea of what this is?!

Monday Madness

Taken from Monday Madness:
1. Ice cream or Yogurt? Definitely ice cream! Any kind, except the kinds with candied fruit in them.
2. What's your favorite board game? Trivial Pursuit
3. Do you play video games? If yes, what game system(s) do you use? Nah, I don't really play video games. Although, last night I did happen to play Ms. Pac Man. I have terrible coordination for video games!
4. If you were given a chance to change your name, would you do it? If yes, what would your new name be? I wouldn't change my first name (Ramona) as I think it suits me. It's also unusual enough that I'm the only one at work with that name. When I was younger, I wished that I had a popular name, now I'm glad that I don't have to share! But, I am planning to change my last name when I get married in November.
5. What are the last 2 blogs that you've visited? Please share the links with us so we can check them out. Michele is a site that I visit everyday. It is very interactive, I've met a lot of other bloggers through her site. She is thought provoking, interesting and fun. The second one is Pez's Blog She always has funny tales about her life and her boys.
6. What's your biggest frustration? My inability to stick to Weight Watchers. I have not lost a pound in three weeks!

We were up at the trailer this weekend, and the trailer season is definitely ending. There is a nip in the air. Just two more weekends to go. The season is open from May 24-Thanksgiving. (Canadian Thanksgiving is always in October, although I really don't know WHY it's in October, and WHY they pick a certain weekend.) This year it is early in October, last year it was late. OK...let me look this up: Canadian Thanksgiving
...Oh, ok. Seems simple enough. 2nd Monday in October. Did you know that? I didn't. Neither did Greg. And our Thanksgiving has nothing to do with Pilgrams! (I, of course, knew that...)
The leaves are just ever-so starting to change their colour. The days just a little more crisper, smelling of dropped leaves, and the campfire evenings a touch brisker. My toes were cold all night, no matter how deep into the back of Greg's knees I tried to bury them. I was thankful for the warmth of little kitty-bodies, and sometimes pulled them even a little closer.

Yesterday, 2-4 and I went for a walk down to the beach as we were both looking to find some good rocks for our garden. (I was also thinking: hmmm...half hour walk: 2 WWpoints, and I can trade them for a glass of wine!)
Lake Belwood is a man-made lake, that is very high in the spring and by the winter is just a creek. Back in the day, there was a railroad track that went along that route and when the lake is but a trickle, you can still see those old rails.
Right now, the lake is wide river. Here is a picture that I took yesterday:
Can you guess what these wheels are attached to?

Bookmarks

The other day I was watching Oprah, and Jon Bon Jovi was her guest. He impressed me as a nice man, it was a great interview. During his interview, he made a comment that made me think. He said that "Songs are the bookmarks of your life" and he hoped that some of his songs left marks on peoples lives.
So, I've been thinking about some of the songs that I remember, and why I remember them. What was going on in my life at that time that I would remember these songs?
Why are they Bookmarks?

1) Lonely Boy by Paul Anka. The first song I ever remember hearing on the radio. I must have been about 5 and the family was out for a Sunday drive in my Dad's new gold Charger. The license plate was ATA 150.
2) Fernando by ABBA. I remember my mom singing this song in the kitchen. She was happy that day and I remember thinking that she had a beautiful voice. To this day, she loves ABBA.
3) Rhinestone Cowboy by Glen Campbell. The first 45 record I ever bought with my allowance at Sam the Record Man. I must have been about 10. (This summer I was thrilled to find the 8-track of this album!)
4) I Think I Love You by the Partridge Family. I loved that show!
5) Saturday Night by the Bay City Rollers. Sa-sa-sa-saturday Ni-hight! S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT!~I was never cool enough to own tartan striped jeans.
6) Da-Doo-Ron-Ron by Shawn Cassidy. Loved him! Kissed the poster I got out of Tiger Beat, every night!
7) Born to Be Alive. Patrick Hernandez...Rollerskating at the local arena. And Banana. It was her favourite song. Must have been about 14.
8) I Will Survive. Gloria Gaynor. So many times. 500 games of gin rummy with Pez and her sister catching me mouthing the words "Hey...Hey!" I was mortified!!! Rollerskating. Later in life, the final breakup with Thing. The extended dance version.
9) You Spin me Round by Dead or Alive. My friend Alicia on her 18th birthday. And ever since then. I can't think of that song without thinking of her.
10) Rebel Yell by Billy Idol. "Hey Mother F...ker! Get laid, get fucked! I was at Unversity, still a virgin!"
11) Thunder Road by Bruce Springsteen. The Germany/Austrian 'Road Trip from Hell' with my brother when I was 24. Thank god for Bruce!
12) Wicked Game by Chris Isaac. Thing and my's song. For shits and giggles I think I actually have to print the words out. Because, this was OUR song from the moment we decided it was our song. What a premonition!
The world was on fire no-one could save me but you
Strange what desire will make foolish people do
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you
I never dreamed that I'd loose somebody like you
No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)
With you
What a wicked game to play to make me feel this way
What a wicked thing to do to make me dream of you
What a wicked thing to say you never felt this way
What a wicked thing to do to make me dream of you
No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)
And suffice to say, I really should have listened to the words of the song instead of becoming mesmerized by Chris Isaac's voice.
13) Closing Time by Semisonic. Good times on Friday nights at the 'Uncle Sams' pub night at the American Embassy in Riyadh. Always the last song of the night. "Closing time, open all the doors and let you out into the world..."
14) River of Tears. Eric Clapton. Every night I listened to the album 'Pilgrim' during the time that my Dad was dying. River of Tears was played at his funeral.
15) Believe. Cher. The whole album. Over and over again. Working towards singledom and then getting used to the idea.
16) ...and nothing really since then...I just turned and asked Greg if we had 'A Song.' Neither of us could really think of one. The funny thing is, music is a HUGE part of our relationship! We have danced in the kitchen hundreds of times, we've been to dozens of concerts, the radio is always on in the car, we listen to scratchy records, 8 tracks, MTV, Much Music and all the Blue channels on the TV.
But we don't have 'A Song.' I am finding this very hard to believe.
Question to you:
What bookmarks do you have? And do you have 'A Song?'

What's up with Rita? Bitch.

OK, I JUST posted Bookmarks (see posting below) and feel that I have to share this experience with you.
While I was working on Bookmarks, the local news was on. They were talking about how there were gunshots at a Hamilton gas station this evening. Gas had more than DOUBLED in the time that people in line were waiting! This was Breaking News. (Hamilton is about 60kms from Toronto) They were selling gas at $2.15 per litre!
I jokingly said to Greg that maybe we should go out and get some gas tonight, rather than wait, because the tank was on empty.
So. Mark this moment.
Greg actually said, that we really should go and get gas, because if it really DID double, we should think twice about going to the trailer!
So, at 23:18 I found myself in the car with Greg scoping nearby gas stations. I honestly can never remember doing this before in my whole life. Going out at midnight in anticipation of a wild price increase in the morning! Craaa-zy!
We found gas for $104.3 per Litre. (This is STILL 25 cents more expensive than it was a month ago)
I'll be curious to see what it is tomorrow.


Rita is to blame for this.
Please...please let the rise in gas prices be the biggest price people have to pay.

Cold Water

This is now our third summer having the trailer, and for some reason, we have never bothered to get the propane fixed so we don't have hot water. I usually boil water to do the dishes, but once in a while, I admit: I use cold water.


Can cold water clean dishes??? This is for all the germ conscious folks that worry about using cold water to clean.

John went to visit his 90 year old grandfather in a very secluded, rural area of Ontario. They spent a great evening chatting the night away, and the next morning John's grandfather prepared breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast. However, John noticed a film like substance on his plate, and questioned his grandfather asking, "Are these plates clean?" His grandfather replied, "They're as clean as cold water can get them. Just you go ahead and finish your meal, Sonny!" For lunch the old man made hamburgers. Again, John was concerned about the plates as his appeared to have tiny specks around the edge that looked like dried egg and asked, "Are you sure these plates are clean?" Without looking up the old man said, "I told you before, Sonny, those dishes are as clean as cold water can get them. Now don't you fret, I don't want to hear another word about it!" Later that afternoon, John was on his way to a nearby town and as he was leaving, his grandfather's dog started to growl, and wouldn't let him pass. John yelled and said, "Grandfather, your dog won't let me get to my car". Without diverting his attention from the football game he was watching on TV, the old man shouted ... "COLDWATER, GO LAY DOWN!!!!"

Teehee! Wanna come over for dinner this weekend?!

Monday Madness

It's a new week! Things must get better! Here's Monday Madness to get things going:

1. When you're stressed out, what do you do to relieve your stress? Have you seen my previous few posts? Apparently, since blogging I've been doing some ranting. A glass of wine, or two or three is usually in the picture too. I wish I could learn to excercise. Oh, last week I went for a long, long walk which was helpful. I must do more of that.
2. Are you normally a patient person, or is patience NOT one of your virtues? I am definitely a patient person
3. How many times a week do you blog? 4-5 times a week
4. How many memes a week do you participate in? Just one...this one!
5. Describe the perfect day, weather-wise. Warm, sunny, no humidity
6. Would you rather be too hot, or too cold? Too hot
7. Do you eat out often, and if so, what type of restaurants do you frequent? I don't eat out all that often, but when we do, it's usually breakfast diners or pubs. We tend to start out our Sundays by eating out for breakfast.
8. If you could run your own business, what type of business would it be? In a dreamworld, I'd like to run a travel agency where people would come in and have me design a tour for them. They would be backpacker-type people who would be independant travellers, interested in taking local buses and trains, and staying in vacation apartments vs. hotels. I would have all the schedules for them, and have all the accommodations and contacts sorted out. (I actually designed a trip to Spain for a couple of girlfriends and myself a few years ago, and also a trip to Poland for myself and a friend. I really enjoyed doing this, and both trips worked out very well)

That's it, have a great week!

Thank you!

The Kitties on the window ledge, their favourite sleeping spot

So this has not been the best week I've ever had. Certainly not the worst, but definitely uncomfortable and disappointing. I've been trying really hard to "Let it Go" and not let it get to me and for the most part, I am doing ok. I am trying to think more positive thoughts so that I stop feeling so deflated. Believe it or not, the Kitties have been a great source of comfort. There is something to be said for pet therapy: unconditional love and affection, no judgement or criticism, and a warm body always nearby for a good snuggle. The Dutchess, in particular, has been a very cuddly cat this week. I think she knew something was up.
I have also found an incredible support through all my blog friends and visitors. It was extrememly therapeutic for me to write all that crap down and get my thoughts and feelings out. There's nothing like airing your dirty laundry! The comments have all been incredibly supportive, the advice sensible, and I am very appreciative. It has been nice to receive validation that I am not the one with personality disorder.
So, to everyone: A big, heartfelt Thank you!
Have a wonderful Sunday!

Mothers and daughters...sigh.

I've managed to not allow myself to totally fall to pieces over the idiotic way my mom has behaved this week. I really and truly think that she is having some kind of mental breakdown or something. I mean, who acts like that when their daughter is getting married?
I had a nice, long talk with Pez tonight. Thank god for the people in my life who provide sanity. Actually, for the first time maybe I've even chosen to react to my mom's bizarre self-centred behaviour in a different way.
On Wednesday morning I woke up very early and got out of bed. I was pissed. I pounded away at my blog (see previous entry.) Greg got out of bed. For a brief 30 seconds I shed a few tears. Greg's voice of reason: "What are you crying about? You didn't do anything wrong. You are planning a wedding and your mom is not happy with your decisions. It's her problem. Not yours. She is just trying to make you feel guilty and manipulate you into believing that you are doing the wrong thing. I'm happy with the plans, you're happy with the plans. It's our wedding, not hers. Let her deal with her problems. Or let her not deal with her problems like she's done her whole life. Whatever."
These were not his exact words, but it was the gist of what he was saying to me. And, he is right.
I am marrying my very own Doctor Phil.
So, I finished my blog, and then I went for a power walk. I marched along the downtown streets with a vengence, once in a while talking to myself. (I blended...surely I looked like every other nutbar pounding down the streets of TO!) I crossed lights, I turned corners and suddenly found myself in front of the Royal Ontario Museum. I was red-faced and sweaty, but I thought what the hell....I'm going in. The truth was, I was afraid to go home because I didn't want to dwell in my Blockhead German-mother problems.
Gotta tell ya. It was the best thing I could have done. I was lost for two hours just roaming, reading little plaques, talking to museum volunteers, looking at mummies, antique furniture, stuffed dead animals (ewwww...) bugs, butterflies and dinosaurs. Surprisingly, in my no make-up, yesterday's t-shirt, old yoga pants and pissed-off kind of state, I ended up having a really nice day.
In the end, I've come to a conclusion. I can not change the way my mom is. She will not change the way she is, because she doesn't see that there is anything wrong with her thought processes. She is happiest when she is not challenged, and even happier when she is complimented on her beauty. She is too proud to ever admit that she might be wrong. She is not interested in what anybody else has to say if it differs from her opinion. She is right, everybody else is wrong.
I love her because she is my mother. But I don't respect her enough to want her as a friend.
She is living her life, and I'm living mine.
And if I'm hard-headed and difficult in her eyes because I'm not like her, and don't think like her, so be it.

I'm happy to be me.

Dysfunction Junction

Warning. Long Rant.
I am seething, spitting mad at my mom. She was in fine form last night at my brother's birthday dinner. Early in the morning yesterday I called to wish him a happy birthday and then invited them downtown to my place for a barbecue. (My brother is 37, unemployed and still lives with my mom. But that dysfunctional story will be saved for another time.) My mom said to me that would be a nice idea, that she would bring a cake. Sounds nice, doesn't it?
What a friggin' nightmare. I should have known something was up when her initial conversation revolved about how wonderful all of her friends daughters are. I, apparently, am just not so wonderful to her. I'm sure she doesn't brag about me to her friends, not that I would want her to. She tells me that one of her friends daughters is getting married in November in Mexico. She is 30, but the other sister is over 30 and she probably is too old to get married. I said, well, I'm 40 and I'm getting married, other people get married when they are in the 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's...I don't think that there is a cut-off age! My mom then took that opportunity to tell me that I was getting married because I was desperate. Gee, thanks Mom. I ignored the comment because I didn't want to start a fight.

We headed up to the roof for our barbecue. Greg had been out helping his best friend's mother with some electrical stuff. I made the mistake of saying to my mom "Darren and his mom are coming to the wedding." This is where the switch flipped in my mom. She suddenly raises her voice and says 'Just how many people are coming to zis vedding? Its sounds like its goink to cost $10,000! Do you realize zat zere is novone from our side who iz goink to be zere?" I said that there would be about 30 people, just like I said right from the beginning. In our family there are only the 3 of us: my mom, my brother and I. Our extended family is all in Germany, and quite frankly, none of them would even want to come. But. And here is where the fight REALLY started. She wants me to invite her cousin and her husband who my mom is close to. Two years ago this couple was in Toronto for a few days visiting and I invited them to my place for dinner. (I will tell the whole story another time, but suffice to say that it was a very uncomfortable day, and that evening just got worse.) The evening ended with my 'uncle' getting up from the dinner table after he had just wished me luck with that asshole, meaning Greg. I was stunned, and thought he was joking. He wasn't. Greg was clueless, and went to shake his hand goodbye. My 'uncle' refused to shake his hand, called him an asshole and looked like he was going to punch Greg in the face. I was mortified. Greg's cousin, who is Spanish, and lives in Spain, was also at out place that night. Greg, apparently was an asshole because a) his cousin was there and it should have just been MY family (nevermind that these 'relatives' were traveling with another couple from Germany and they were also at this dinner party) b) Greg was talking too loud.
So, after being insulted, and after I later ended up dragging my mom and brother to counselling because we could not have a civil conversation to each other because my mom sided with her cousins, last night my mom was upset because we did not invite them to our wedding! What is she, stunned? Delusional? Or just plain stupid? We said that under no circumstances were they going to come to our wedding. They insulted us in our home, and never even attempted to apologize for their behaviour.
Then my mom said that "all of her friends were pissed off that we were getting married in Las Vegas, because they can't come." I had asked my mom right from the start, did she have any friends who would be interested in coming? What about the neighbours? (Our whole reason for getting married in LV was that we wouldn't have one of those wedding where you are inviting the neighbours kids, and all the parents friends who you've never met before) But, if my mom had anyone who wanted to come, by all means, that would be nice. So, now her friends are pissed off and think its a terrible idea that we are getting married in LV. Who the fuck cares what my mom's friends think?! My mom is upset because she thinks that she is going to feel all alone at the wedding, and not important enough. It's always about her. She thinks that all 30 people there are from Greg's side. And even though I told her that half the guests are MY friends and she's met every single one of them, that's not good enough. "It's always about your friends, isn't it?" Well, hmm, let me see...my friends don't judge me, they make me feel good about myself, i don't fight with them, and I've known all of these friends for over 15 years, some of them, over 30 years. Because of the sheer minitude of our family, my friends have always been like my extended family. And lets face it, sometimes, we are closer to our friends than we are to our family.
My mom had graciously offered to pay for our reception. I had told her that it would be about $4000 usd. Last night, during this heated discussion she says to Greg "Don't worry, I'm writing a check to Ramona to cover the whole wedding. You'll need more money if you're having so many people." (The number of guests has never changed from the beginning) Then she says you'll need the money to pay for everything else. Hello?! Greg's parents are paying for our flight and accommodation. We told her this and her response "Humpff...ya right." What a bitch! What the hell did she think she was trying to pull? Now she was insulting Greg's family!

Do you want me to go on? I think I have to because I'm shaking I'm so mad, and I need to get this poison out of me.

Her other arguments were that she felt like she was Just a Guest. I have asked my mom to walk me down the aisle and she refused. She has chosen to be Just a Guest.
She said that she was the last person to find out that we were engaged. Not true. 30 seconds after Greg proposed I tried to call her. She wasn't home, had gone up to the cottage. I tried calling her up there, no answer. I had to go to work and can't call long-distance from there. I got home from work at midnight and felt it would be too late to call. The next morning, I set my alarm and called at 730 so that I wouldn't miss her again. But she was the last person to find out. Nevermind, that Greg, months earlier, had asked for her blessing in us getting married before he bought my engagement ring. So, she WAS the first to know. But she doesn't see it that way.
Oh let's see...what else did she come up with? Oh. That she had planned a birthday party for my brother at her place (in the suburbs) but we can't be bothered to go there to see her. Hello?! I had called that morning to invite them, she said yes that sounds nice. At no point did she ever say that she had planned dinner. If she was upset about, why not say so in the morning?
She also brought up the fact that she couldn't understand why we weren't close. That I never want to spend any time with her. First of all, last Friday I spent the whole day with her. We had lunch, went shopping, sat in the backyard and had a few drinks. It was a nice day. Secondly, no we are not particularly close, but generally we get along. I call her everyday, and probably see her once every two weeks. What does she want? For me to come by for dinner every night , maybe move in with her and my brother? Read this entry. My whole life has been like this. My mom only sees things her way, does not want to hear my opinion. When I do confide in her, she never says the right things. What she says usually makes me feel worse and sorry that I ever told her in the first place.
Oh ya, last night she says "I vood never haf spoken to my muzah like you do. If my muzah said somesing, I did it." Oh, so because you weren't allowed to have an opinion with your mother, I'm not either? I'm 40, not 4. Nevermind that I clearly remember my mom telling me that she was never close to her mother. Hmmm...maybe you could have remedied that with your own daughter instead of repeating history.
She ended the night last night by saying that she really truly wished that we would have children, lots of them. Not because she wants to be a grandmother, but so that we would know what its like to have ungrateful, rude children. Can you believe her? Saying this when she knows that I am infertile? What a bitch!!! I bit my tongue, but what I wanted to say was that maybe its a good idea that I can't have children so I don't fuck up relationships with my kids like the way she's managed to fuck up hers.
I am so mad!
I woke up at 7 this morning, shaking, still furious with her. But you know what? There is absolutely no point in trying to talk to her about this. She thinks that she is right, that I am wrong. And what I think doesn't matter, because I always disagree with her anyway. And she has the most hard-headed daughter in the world. At one point I got up from the table and walked away because I was getting so close to exploding. She had the nerve to say to Greg "Good Luck with her. She's very hard-headed and difficult." Greg, ever as levelheaded as he always is said to her 'actually, I think Ramona is very easy to get along with. If we have problems we talk about them before it turns in to a fight. We try to hear what we each have to say.'
I Love Him.
And right now, I wish that we were eloping.

Happy 37th Birthday, Derek! What a party.

Mr. Gorsky

This was sent to me in an email today. I thought it was funny, and then wondered if it really WAS true. It seems that it is just another urban myth, but a good little story nonetheless.

NEIL ARMSTRONG

On 20th July 1969, as Commander of the Apollo 11 lunar module, Neil Armstrong was the first person to set foot on the moon. His first words after stepping on the moon, "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." were televised to earth and heard by millions, but just before he re-entered the Lander, he made the enigmatic remark: "Good luck, Mr. Gorsky." Many people at Nasa thought it was a casual remark concerning some rival soviet cosmonaut. However, upon checking, there was no Gorsky in either the Russian or American space programs.

Over the years many people questioned Armstrong as to what the "good luck, Mr. Gorsky" statement meant, but Armstrong always just smiled.

On 5th July 1995, in Tampa bay, Florida, while answering questions following a speech, a reporter brought up the 26-year-old question to Armstrong. This time he finally responded. Mr. Gorsky had died, so Neil Armstrong felt he could answer the question. In 1938 when he was a kid in a small Midwest town, he was playing baseball with a friend in the backyard. His friend hit the ball, which landed in his neighbour's yard by the bedroom window. His neighbours were Mr. & Mrs.Gorsky. As he leaned down to pick up the ball, young Armstrong heard Mrs.Gorsky shouting at Mr.Gorsky, "Oral Sex? You want Oral Sex? You'll get Oral Sex when the kid next door walks on the moon!"

True story. (Or is it?!)

Taken from www.crank.net

Good Luck, Mr. Gorsky! and other lies about the Moon 2001 Oct 09 ... Apollo program ...
"History buffs will recall that when Neil Armstrong, the first astronaut walked on the moon he made a mistake when saying his famous 'One small step speech.' He was supposed to say, 'This is one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.' Well the words he said are history but the words he said after are in the outtakes. You will probably never hear or see them on Bloopers and Practical Jokes but story goes that he made a few remarks after his two feet hit the lunar sand pile. The story from NASA is that Armstrong made the comment 'Good luck, Mr. Gorsky.' ... Isn't that a great Story? It never happened. It's one of those Urban Legends that everyone loves to tell. Professor Jan Harold Brunvand once said, 'The truth never stands in the way of a good story.' No matter how many times this story is told it always sounds so believable, such a wonderful story. It has made it into Newspapers and who knows it may be accepted as true history some day. No matter if it is a white lie."

Monday Madness

This weeks' Monday Madness:

1. I'm at my best in the early morning. False. Not a morning person.
2. I start each day with a healthy breakfast. True. It's my favourite meal.
3. I'm always sure to get at least 7 hours of sleep each night. False. I'd love to get seven hours of sleep a night, but I have sleep anxiety.
4. I enjoy my job. True. For the most part.
5. I get along with most everyone. True. Although I don't necessarily like everyone!
6. I'm looking forward to the new season of tv shows this year. False. I couldn't care less. Except for American Idol. And maybe that new show, Bones. Oh, Greg and I watched a funny sitcom last night called The War at Home.
7. I make sure I take some time for myself every day. True. I get bitchy if my day is too full.

Self Help

Well, I'm back in the saddle again, or, uh rather, I'm back trying to get rid of the saddle-bags again. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit, that this is my 3rd time this year joining Weight Watchers, and this is probably my 18th time joining in my lifetime. And, please note: I have never made it to Lifetime Member.
The first time I joined I was in Highschool, Grade 12 I think. That was the plan where you could only have 2 eggs a week, and you had to have liver at least once a week. I lasted 5 weeks, and lost 2 lbs.
At university, I surpassed the Freshman 15 and gained about 25 lbs. For my birthday that year my mom bought me a membership at Physicians Weight Loss. I ate 500 calories a day, I had Vitamin B injections once a week, lost 20 lbs in 3 weeks, and woke up at night with cramps in my feet. I kept the weight off for about 4 months.
About 10 years ago I ventured back to WW. This time it was the Fat & Fibre plan. That was a pain in the ass (Literally...) Not successful.
At 26, I moved to Saudi Arabia, where alcohol was illegal. Sure people made it in their homes, but I was too afraid. So, I abstained and promptly lost 15lbs.
Then, I moved back to Canada, learned to like wine and re-gained the pounds.
8 years ago I joined WW again and the plan was a bit better. Little boxes to check off the glasses of water, the milk, the cheese, the breads, the meats, the veggies and fruits. Much better (and no liver!) I was actually doing fairly well, except that I hated the meetings. I was living out in the 'burbs and the group meetings I went to mostly included middle-aged housefraus with teenaged children. I had nothing in common with them, I was young, I was a weekend partier! The ladies would lament about cheating with chocolates and chips, but surprisingly, that wasn't my sinful luxury. One lady proudly told the group that while she still bought chocolate and chips, she kept it out of sight by telling her kids to take it straight to their rooms! Stoopit me (the only time I ever said anything at the meeting) asked her if maybe that wasn't the best idea? That maybe she was encouraging her teens to eat poorly?
Well. Let's just say that was a mistake. I should have just my big fat mouth shut. The woman zeroed in on me, and said : "oh, you're usually so quiet! What sinful treat do you have?" "Ummm...well, I like red wine, and sometimes I have more than one glass" (OK, I ALWAYS have more than one glass, but I wasn't about to say that!) So then, the group decided to give me unasked for advice: "dilute it with soda!" ("Why would I ruin a perfectly good glass of wine with soda?") "Just buy a half bottle!" ("Way more expensive, not as good a selection") I had all these very logical reasons. Finally Chocolate Troll Lady totally humiliated me by yelling out "WELL PERHAPS YOU ARE IN THE WRONG SELF-HELP GROUP!!!" Yes, everyone was snickering. Yes, I was mortified. No, I never went back to another meeting. But, I had reached my own personal goal by then, anyway.
I managed to keep my poundage under control until I met Greg, the Man of my Dreams. He was my partner in crime. We both love to eat, and wash it all down with a good bottle of wine. And we like TV.
Last year I started my WW journey again. Points plan. Not bad, even started to exercise. Lost weight for the summer. Gained it all back over the summer.
This year. Back to WW again. Did not want to be Fat and Forty. New plan: Flex points or Core plan. Lost a bit in time for Las Vegas in April. Lost the WW momentum.
This past Monday, I joined again, because I have a wedding dress to fit in to in 2 months! No change in plan this time, although I'm trying the on-line version. No meetings! Bought my own digital scale. It's been 5 days, I'm walking an hour every day, and am staying within my points. I have cooled it with the wine, well, I'm still having a 4oz glass a day because Fergie, Dutchess of York doesn't go without it either. And a glass a day is good for your heart. And I wouldn't want to totally deprive myself, because then I'd probably really crave it and cave in. And, because I really CAN turn down chocolate and chips.
And, YES! I AM certain I am in the right self-help group!

2-4 and Terry Fox

I have a funny Two-Four story from last weekend. We were sitting around talking about Terry Fox and the new commemorative Adidas running shoes that are on the market now. They are replicas of his original shoes, with a map of his run inside. Greg's sister's boyfriend was actually on the marketing project for this shoe.

Anyway, Two-Four starts talking about how years ago she was watching a tv interview with Terry Fox. Now, it is quite noticeable that when she is in conversation, that she really doesn't listen to what anyone else has to contribute. Here is an example:

2-4: "I remember watching the tv and this young kid named Terry Fox was talking about how he was going to run across Canada to raise money for cancer. I remember thinking Ya right. I mean how old could he have been, what was he, 23 when he died?"

Me: "I think he was younger, maybe 21"

2-4: "ya, ok, so he was 22 when I saw this interview he was on"

I just let her keep talking...but I was cracking up inside! Too much!

Did you miss me?! I missed you!
I was away a trailer for a few days over the long weekend, and prior to that, really was just at a loss for words. My heart breaks when I watch the news about New Orleans. Those poor, poor people. It is such a tragedy, and I am so saddened. It seems like everytime I turn the tv on, there is some new horror facing that city. And, perhaps this is meaningless to some people, but yesterday I got all choked up when they showed abandoned dogs still clinging to the rooftops, clearly not a priority in saving and evacuating lives. Although, some folks did all they could to save their pets:
On a happier note, The Audubon Zoo Animals seemed to fare all right. It seems as though the Zoo had a better hurricane disaster plan than the City of New Orleans did. There were a few flamingos that died and also some sea otters, but overall most animals survived. Greg and I had visited this beautiful park when we were in New Orleans, and it had crossed our minds as to what might have happened to the animals. (There is something to be said for building an Ark!)
Well, just a quick entry for tonight, I have to get to bed before my willpower leaves me, but more on that tomorrow.
'Night.