26 November 2007

Back to normal programming

I did not mean to take a blogging hiatus. Life has an annoying habit of getting in the way of things you mean to do. There has been an onslaught of things to do personally. The German and I have been preparing for the arrival of the Bubbie on Wednesday, November 28th. He is coming in for a children’s Christmas party that the German’s company throws annually. He goes back home to Jersey on Sunday, December 2nd.

The downside is that the German has to be out of town the Thursday and Friday that the Bubbie is here. I am pissed. Mind you, not at the German. It is not his fault. He told people a while back that his son was going to be here and that he could not travel during that time. We get the Bubbie infrequently. We have only seen him 16 days this entire year. And now that we get him for just four precious days, my German has to go out of town on business. Bubbie lands the evening of the 28th. The German has to depart either before Bubbie arrives or around 4a on Thursday. It slices his time with his son in half and I am livid.

Don’t get me wrong, I know this is not anyone’s fault. Business is business and something came up. I know that is out of everyone’s control. It just makes my heart ache for my husband and his son.

I love my step son with my whole heart. My parents adore him as he is the only grandchild they will ever know. The Bubbie even calls them Memere and Pepere which is the Cajun names for grandparents. He loves spending time with them and is spoiled completely rotten by them and my 86 year old Nana who lives with them. Who would not want that kind of attention? Of course my parents are utterly exhausted each day they watch him while I work (I wiped out my vacation in March going to Hamburg to meet my German’s parents).

Basically I needed to vent. I wanted to go visit my other friends in bloggyland as well after my two week stint of being offline. There will be more later on the visit as it is always a good time when the Bubbie comes to visit… Unless of course you are my cat... She remembers the previous visit.

12 November 2007

A present for me

A couple of my friends from work went on vacation together to New Mexico to visit a mutual friend of ours. During their brief stay they bought me an incredibly beautiful finger rosary made of wood. It is lovely and feels very good in my hands. The wooden beads feel warm if that make any sense. The smoothness makes my fingers want to dance over each bead.

They got it at the Loretto Chapel in Sante Fe. If you have not heard of this place you need to check out the story of the staircase. It is remarkable whether you believe in this type of thing or not.

The finger rosary my friends got me is from the same type of wood. The story that goes along with it is as follows:

The finger rosary is sometimes called an Irish rosary. It originated with the Irish. 450 years ago, Great Britain pass a law stating that anyone caught praying the rosary would be put to death. So the Irish put 10 small knobs and a cross on their wedding bands. They prayed with them for over 300 years without getting caught. That was repealed in about 1850.

05 November 2007


I am tired of the commentary I hear about my black eye. I am sick to death of anyone thinking my husband may have done this to me. I have documented how I did this. My husband was out of the country when it happened. My parents know this and I really should quit letting people get under my skin about this.

I am not an idiot. I know when people see this bad of a bruise (especially on a woman’s face) they naturally assume someone punched you. I know because I am guilty myself.

Let me set the record straight. This is the eighth (yes, 8th) black eye I have had during my 41 years on Earth. My last one was from a whitewater rafting incident when the idiot in front of me let go of his T-grip and it rammed into my eye. Said idiot is my ex-husband. Nuff said about that….

The other six were at the hand of an abusive asshole that I dated in college. Aside from the six black eyes I sport 54 (count ‘em, campers) scars from him. That was 21 years ago. To say it jaded me is an understatement. It changed how little or how much I trust others (namely men) is what it did. Never again will I be in a situation where I am belittled, intimidated, much less frightened for my very existence. Let me be clear, NEVER AGAIN!!!

I have known the German for 14 years. We have been together 3.5 years of that time. He may come across as a bit rough around the edges, but when it comes to me he is gentle as a lamb. He would never lay a hand on me. Not even in jest. He knows I still carry too much baggage from that. He knows the fragility of my psyche.

What hurts is that those who do not know him would think such a thing. I see people point and whisper. I have heard the rumors from other people. I am sick to death of it. You may not have met my husband so know that I am not the kind of woman who would tolerate abuse, mentally, physically, spiritually. Been there, bought the T-shirt. My husband is not the kind of man would inflect it. Nor would he abide such behavior towards me or any human being.

If you want to know what happened to my eye, ask me. I am a klutz and will tell you as much.

03 November 2007

A few days late.

So I am little behind in my blogging... That and I keep neglecting to download the camera from the Halloween party mein Deustcher and I went to on the 27th. So without further adieu I give you photos of the party...

It wouldn't be a party without a British pirate doing a keg stand... He lives in Germany and works for my German's parent company. What a way to introduce him to an American holiday (they do not celebrate Halloween in Germany).

In case you do not recognize us, this is my German and me. He is the Terminator (although I referred to him as the Germanator). I am Fergie from the Black-Eyed Peas since I am still sporting my shiner from October 6th.

This is a herd of Europeans. All except the pirate are native Germans. Nothing like hanging out with them when the conversation is entirely in German and I try and keep up interpreting the few words I know. I usually just stand there and drink beer and think happy thoughts...

This one is my favorite costume of the evening. Recognize Mary Poppins and Burt? I just loved this as it was awesome!

You know it is a great party when three police cars and a fire truck come. Everything was good... There was a permit to burn for the bonfire and it just made the band that was playing shut down after three songs...

It is already making us wonder what we will be next year.