When you weren't looking

It will start without you knowing it. It will creep up on you in tiny increments until there is no turning back. And you realize now it’s smart that it happens in tiny steps, because if you knew that it was going to happen, you’re not sure you would think yourself ready. You would find an excuse to dislike it, look for a way to prevent it.

One day your feelings will get hurt and instead of sending an angry email you will decide to sleep on it. You will say sorry first when it’s your fault, and you will mean it when you say it. You will wear more sunscreen and a little less sparkly eyeshadow. You find that you give as many handshakes as high fives. You will find that life suddenly begins to eat up your time and daily two hour phone calls about every detail of your best friends life no longer happen. All of a sudden not every lip gloss you own will be named after a berry. You will learn that sometimes people are better off not knowing, and you will be able to keep your secrets secret. You won’t apologize for leaving the party early, for not dating someone who uses large stacks of pornography as a nightstand or for things out of your control.

You will floss more.

When your friends talk of their houses, they are no longer referring to the ones their dad built them in a tree. They own their own. They drive cars without rust, wear high heels without teetering and tell you they love you at times other than 3am. They will have offices and responsibilities and suddenly you will know that you can count on them to be there not just for the party, but for the funeral. They will not always know what to say, but they will know that they need to be there. And they will know that is enough.

Suddenly you will know more married people than not- and it doesn’t scare you.
You will find yourself a part of a club that you didn’t know existed. A club where people talk about 401k’s and wine and all the excellent television found on a Friday night. And at first you are reluctant to join the club, but you know you can’t go back. So you stay, not always knowing what to say or how you fit in but then you realize being here is less stressful, less dramatic. You find that you feel… relieved, happier to know that there is a life outside the world you knew. You realize this new group also talks about goals and the future and they say things like ‘when we do this’ not ‘if we can ever do this’- and that comforts you. They own plants that don’t die, ideas that are theirs and pots that have matching lids.

But sometimes, you will feel wistful. The great stories of dancing all night and drinking from contraptions held together with duct tape will feel over. You will miss the late nights but can now recall the painful mornings. You will fondly remember spending all your money on shoes and clothes but now like the idea of a home and savings accounts and pots with matching lids. You will miss knowing every single detail of your closest friends lives, but then you realize, you are starting to learn the details of your own.

You will find yourself dressing the man that once dressed you. You will help him bathe and you will serve him his favorite foods as he did you when you were younger. You find yourself on friday and saturday nights reading on their farm remincsing about your summers in Luray as a child and yet here you are again. You take them out to dinner and you enjoy each others wit and snark and smile because they still have 'it'. You walk down the hall of their beautiful home and realize how much they adore their children and you see your first grade self on a beautiful painting by Ned Bettinger. You like it, You appreciate it.



One day without realizing it, you will have become an adult.

Peopld

People can be so cold and calculating. They thrive in your misery. They pretend as if they're looking out for you, but really they're only sabatoging the only real happiness you've ever known.

At first you believe their intentions were good, you only want to hear and see what they have to say because you take it as the Gospel. As time goes by you realize it's not because they are looking out for my best interest, no. They're trying to stir up more drama.

What I don't know won't hurt me. Yet I never wanted to be out of the loop. So end the end this has torn apart two relationships. One is replaceble. The other can not be.

What was your true intention? I know it wasn't my interests. I hope youre happy. I will be.

Update on KP

Per K's Site:

We have had a very busy week! Kristy's prom was fabulous, and her hair looked beautiful - it stayed just for prom! The next day Kristy shaved it off, which was quite a relief to her. She looks great in scarves and hats, and very bohemian chic!

Graduation was absolutely beautiful! Kristy wore a blue, white and orange scarf under her hat. It was so awesome to look around the room and see so many people wearing their "KP" bracelets. In addition, every person entering the room was given a yellow ribbon to pin to their shirts in honor of Kristy. JohnThomas, the Headmaster, gave a wonderful speech, and in it, recognized the amazing camraderie that the Flint Hill graduates had, and as an example, spoke of how all the students and families have pulled together in incredible support of Kristy. The most moving moment, though, was when Kristy went to accept her diploma the entire room stood up and gave applause. It certainly brought tears to our eyes.....

The Graduation Party for Kristy was absolutely perfect! Despite the threat of rain it remained a beautiful night. All the kids really enjoyed the frozen drink machine, DJ, and food. We thank all the parents who came - it means so much to us to have the support from so many people.Kristy has been in Maine for "beach week" since Sunday morning, and will return tomorrow. The Peterson Family has been nice enough to open up their lovely home for Chris and his close friends to spend time together. They have, apparently, been having a terrific time!!!Kristy remains optimistic and happy, albeit very tired. We go to Hopkins on Friday for a 5 day session of chemotherapy. This will be her 3rd session. After 6 sessions the doctors will ascertain if the tumor is shrinking (Please God!)

Cancer has changed our lives and pushed us all to grow and evolve. We continue, as always, to be in the present moment and grounded in faith in God and Kristy's medical team.

With love,
Victoria and Steve

Myrtle

I arrived yesterday and went exploring on my own. I had a great time being alone and doing what I wanted. I took Marisa's advice and went to KISS coffee house. It's very cool. She does have good taste! I haven't been myself for some time. If you're a close friend, you know why! I ended up going down to the beach to read a bit more of The Senator's Wife. I wanted to relax and work on my Melanoma! JK!

I couldn't help but overhear these 18 year old high school graduates talk about girls, sex, and music. They weren't tainted yet. They were adoreable. There was one that really stood out. He was running around with a guitar and singing. His voice was incrediable. I, of course, had to compliment him on his beautiful vocals and requested to hear something of his choice. He started singing 'Hey there Deliliah' -- it was awesome. He made me tear up behind my sunglasses. He then did 'Heartless' by Kanye and I made him stop, at that point I was sobbing. He offered me a beer to cheer me up! He was just too darn cute. We did take a swim together and it's weird, I felt very comfortable with this kiddy. He and his friends were loving the boobs!!! They were young and innocent and harmless. I thought it was funny. I said goodnight to the kids and I immeadiately thought this kid is too cool--there is only one other kid just as cool--Ris! What a match that would have been. Super cute, sweet, kid with a good voice! I'm sure Marisa would have liked. Big blue eyes and working on a 6 pack :)

I after I took a shower I realized my grandmother made a fire in the fireplace! It was a cold 80 degrees last night. Inside it was 180. Sleep--haven't had any in a while. I'm currently living on coffee.

Myrtle beach doesn't have many wifi spots so I signed up for dial up! I'll cancel it before I leave :) I can't believe AOL still exists in a world of instant everything. I would be able to do without the net, but I'm awaiting a very important email with crucial information. It's been two days and nothing yet. Maybe it's not meant for me to see afterall. Oh well. We'll cross that bridge when and if I get it.

We had dinner at Tony Roma's. It was blah. I cook better :) I think I'm going to go for a stroll along the beach. No phone. No emails. No internet. Just me. Sounds like a great idea afterall :)

Oh and I hid the wood from my grandmother--am I bad?!

Monogamy Beach Side

Do you think we, as human beings yet, no more than animals with a supposed larger brain than most animals, are really supposed to be monogamous? I mean, really.

You and me with one person forever and ever until death, amen, monogamous? If you think yes, then what about those who are divorced? I mean, ultimately they will be out on the prowl again as soon as they are ready to get back in the saddle. Those who are married still very much look, gesture, speculate, daydream, and imagine what it would be like to be with someone else. Sure, they may go home to their wife, husband, boyfriend, girlfriend, yet, the image, daydream that made them grit their teeth of whatever fantasy it just was that went through their head, is still there.

So, are we really supposed to be monogamous? Forever and ever, amen?

I got to thinking.

Here are my answer to his questions about love and feelings and such.

Where: South Pacific, in a hut in the ocean. You know, one of those huts that's actually in the ocean? And it's always nice in the south pacific, so it's warm, but not unbearable.

We are naked. Both physically and emotionally, naked.

We are both in bed on clean white pima cotton sheets and we share everything that needs to be shared and that we want to share. It's completely open between us and there are no walls, no boundaries, no strings between us; it is completely open and honest between us.

The music is our words and conversation and the sounds are the ocean and the love and lust of our passion and love.

The smells are the ocean and our bodies, the sweet, sweet lovely smell of sweat, love, lust, and passion.

Food? It's not even a thought until we are starved.

Do I fall in love easily? Ah, no.
Lust? Crushes? Passion? Flirt? Oh, yeah.
I have a new crush almost everyday. I have a new flirt every hour.

Life is too much fun. Life is too short. Life is a verb. We should all have flirts, crushes and passions. We should all have the freedom to fall in love easily. Sadly, we have too many bad memories of past loves gone bad, past crushes crushing us.....

As I got to the last part about crushes crushing us I wondered, how and when did we become jaded? I mean, let's face it, we are a jaded crowd. Cynical too. Not saying there is anything wrong with it, just sayin'.

Did it happen in junior high with the cruelty of classmates? Did it happen because of our parent's failed marriage(s)? Did it happen because we were willing to go out on a limb only to have it sawed off while we were out on the end? Or because you got caught cheating with his bf and he took his anger out on you? Was it because we were cheated on, or were the cheater, one too many times? And really, how many times are too many or too few before we stop trusting when our partner sought sex and it wasn't with us?

I don't know. Maybe asking a question like, when did we become jaded is like asking, when did you fall in love with someone? I mean do we ever know when we fall in love with someone? Do we ever know the moment we fall out of love with someone, when the relationship is over, when we are ready to call it quits, when the relationship should and must end. The moment when we know it and then actually follow through with it.

I don't know. I do know what I'm looking for. Sure, of course, I have a laundry list of qualities and attributes I want my man to have, of course. I'll get to that another time, but I'm talking about feelings and emotions that I want with my man.

I want to be naked, physically and emotionally naked, completely open and unafraid. I want him to accept me, completely totally and whole-heartedly, accept me, me. Me for me and all of me. The good, the bad, the ugly, the hyper, the cynical, the enthusiastic, doe-eyed, wide-eyed, running into the world, woman that I am. I want to look into his eyes and see my reflection reflected back at me and be able to see and accept how he sees me, how he sees me in his eyes and how completely wonderful that is. Yep, that's it, that's what I want: I want a man who when I look in his eyes he sees the me that I want to see and the me that I am, the perfectly beautiful sexy flawed me and he loves every inch of it.

Tennis this evening? Just looking at the courts makes my mouth water! It's been too damn long. I feel the need to pound some balls!!!

Uncle John and I went to lunch today at our competition, it was okay. Thats all I'll say about that! It feels sooo good to be back. Work is a real stress reliever. If only I could stop calling my parents sooo much to check up on them!!!

My grandparents are flying down to Myrtle Beach tonight, I will be joining them tommorrow. Only I won't be flying. I'll be driving. Alone. Fun stuff but the drive will clear my mind and will give me some time to get myself together!

I'm not getting laid!

The title? Yeah. Let’s not even discuss numbers or time lines. Let’s just say the President wasn’t black the last time I got laid.

Cue ice crunching.

The thing is, other than that minor major physical event- I’m completely happy right now with the relationships I have with people in my life. Without getting into a lot of details (because if there’s one thing I know, it’s the idea of vague being vogue), I feel really lucky to know the people I know and I’m 100% confident that I’m getting more from some people without sex than some people are getting WITH sex.

Which of course makes me ask the age old question:

Would you rather have mind blowing, hair tugging, complete body quivering, life changing sex ONCE a year, or mediocre, ho-hum, it’s good but you won’t remember it the next day sex everyday for a year?

When it comes to sex, what’s more important? Quality or quantity?

I’m going out to buy more ice.

Life

After church and lunch with my parents I went to the grocery store. It's always a chore. I am learning to write lists instead of bringing recipes to the store with me. I'm soooo excited about Ina Garten's Garlic Bread!!! I will keep you posted on how it turns out :)

While there, I ran into Amber. We haven't seen each other since New Year's but she was loving my tan. We were swapping dinner menu ideas and I invited her to my party this weekend. As we were talking this little boy came right up to me and was tugging on my cute new lemongrass colored sundress. I immeadiately checked his hands and picked him up. His parents came around the corner looking for 'Landon'. I tried to hand them back their child only the child was holding on for dear life! He hugged me soooooo tight and was giggling. Turns out he's 16 months old and is a huge flirt! The little guy was adoreable. Everywhere I went he was there, he kept looking behind his daddy to find me. I was just as drawn to him. He was too darn cute. I've never understood why children are so drawn to me. Speaking to my grandmother tonight about all of lifes ups and downs, I told her about the little guy. She told me that children can sense love and security. They're innocent and they look for people like them! I was so touched by that. Now if only I can find one good man who will tug on my dress, hug me tightly and giggle in my ear and look for me everytime I walk away!!!

Tonight has been sooo nice. My pool felt sooooo good. I've been alone all evening. Having my house to myself has just been sweet. I loved swimming laps with the lights on in my pool. I want more nights like tonight.

Party on Saturday at my house. If you're invited you'll recieve an Evite :) Hope to see ya there!!!

As for daddy, he's doing well. Emily is good too! Thanks for asking :)

Instincts

Isn't is such a relief when after all is said and done your instincts were always right? Finally! Now I can finally close this chapter of my life and move on. Time well wasted, but a lesson learned for sure! I may be blonde, but I was dean's listed bitch!!!!

In other news, Grant called to tell me that he got engaged! I'm sincerly happy for him. He too deserves happiness. I wish him well. He asked me a few weeks ago to 'Change his mind', I told him that history should never repeat itself and to follow his heart. He did that and will soon be a married man. I wish him many blessings. Life is good.

I spent my friday night with my grandparents. They really are wonderful people. I see where I get my escentricity from! He's a really well read man who originated from New York and she's a Southern bell. The two are a perfect pair. She is his everything. I want that. I want my husband's eyes and face light up the way my grandfather's does when my grandmother walks in the room first thing in the morning. It's. True. Love.

Another week over

It's Friday. It's been a long week. It hasn't been a good one either. Daddy hasn't felt well in a while. Emily's back and forth to the hospital for tests because they're inconclusive. I fell asleep by my pool yesterday. It was a pity party, party of one. Today I'm burnt. I feel awful. Cold chills, burning body, aloe just soothes but doesn't relieve. Of course, Grandma called and needs my help for tonight. Is it bad that I told her tonight only? I'm truly exhausted and burnt. I wish I had a more uplifting message but my heart hurts.


A

weddings

My sister asked me to plan her wedding. September 19, 2009. I'm excited for her.

Em

I was always told never to ask God why. However, my faith is certainly being tested. I returned home from a weekend with my Grandparents to find Emily's little face puffy and her eyelids filled with Edema. I couldn't find her mother who has a new boyfriend, anywhere.

At her Peditrician's advice, Jamie and I took her to UVA. Dr. Lakkis confirmed that her kidney function is abnormal! Again. This second bout with kidney inflammation could lead to acute renal failure. We have to wait on tests to find out what the next step is. The doctor allowed us to leave and will keep me updated as they learn more. Her urine has traces of blood and protein already.

Emily and I are scared and worried. My daddy hasn't felt well today either. So today was supposed to be a day spent enjoying myself over coffee. It's turned into a nightmare.

I just asked Emily is she wanted to swim, she said no because of a headache. This has never happened.

So I wonder why we have to endure all of this over again? Why?

That Gray Area

For reasons I will never be able to articulate, I seem to swing violently between being 100% confident in my life and my choices and the direction I’m going- to the other extreme, 100% puddle on the kitchen floor, all emo with mascara stains on my cheeks feeling like I have yet to make a right choice and my life is doomed for failure before I hit thirtyone. There’s no in between, no grey area, no room to stretch-to accept that some choices might have been successes while others were failures.

I paint everything with the same brush: it’s either amazingly great and I’m bound to lead an astounding life with Andy Garcia as my boyfriend or I’m bound for failure and my best hope is to stake out which dumpster I’m going to live behind and hope that alley cats will not consume my entire body in greedy gulps when I die and leave no evidence of my time on Earth.

Which is why when I saw this quote I felt compelled to share it. It reminds me that my life has a ridiculous amount of good in it- I have amazing friends and family and handbags. I have a teaching degree, all my limbs intact and an encyclopedic like knowledge on all things General Hospital. There are roughly eleventy gazillion things I can’t quite figure out; why I can’t remember where I put my phone, the reason I seem to be a people pleaser, what the hell is happening on Lost… but there’s good too.

MY LIFE HAS A SUPERB CAST

I JUST CAN'T FIGURE OUT THE PLOT

My Daddy

I couldn't sleep last night at all. I was hysterical all night. I stay up to watch daddy sleep. I check his pulse around the clock. I'm scared to death of the unknown. He's deteriorated so much within the last few months. He is weaker, yet He's so strong.

I keep trying to prepare myself mentally and I can't even imagine one day without his smile, his wink that he's been giving me since I was a little girl. I remember at the dinner table as a child asking him why he always winks at me, he said because he loves me! Til this day it's the only thing that makes me feel better when he's not feeling well. I can't imagine a day, week, month, anything without him here. I've always been a daddy's girl. I always will be.

I remember for my 10th birthday he asked me what I would want for my birthday. I told him that I wanted a barbie. He said no, that I had enough barbies. I was devastated because the newest Barbie was now a Bride!!! That evening he came home with the prettiest, brightest blue bike I had ever laid my eyes on. It was affixed with a white basket on the front with streamers on the handlebars and the coolest banana seat ever!!! I was the envy of the neighborhood. Everyone wanted to ride my bike. I treated it as if it were gold. I parked my bike inside my house everynight because I wanted nobody to ride it and I wanted to keep my eye on it at all times! It was probably the bestest birthday ever for me. I don't remember him being sick at all. We were all happy.

It may seem weird, but thinking back when it was any of my brothers or sisters birthdays my mother was always in charge of the cake, the party, etc. It's so odd because for my birthdays I only remember daddy bringing home the birthday cake for me and putting together my parties. I remember my 11th birthday cake was white with red roses on it. It was a round chocolate cake. My mother never put together any of my birthday parties, only daddy. And now, I wouldn't have had it any other way. He knew how to throw a party. He also gives the best gifts. The coolest Cabbage Patch Kids dolls were his specialty. We were obsessed with the Garbage Patch Kids trading cards. They were utterly disgusting. They were downright gross! Mom never wanted us to have them....daddy would sneak them to us!!! He would always let us have a sip of beer when he was drinking. He is the coolest!

I just pray for more time with him. I'm needy and greedy that way. I love him so much. I have put my life on hold for him. He's irreplaceable.

Signed,

Daddy's Little Girl

Update

Daddy was sent home on Monday and is doing well thus far. Its been scary and uncertain. Please keep him in your prayers.

Tonight my neighbor came running to my door. When I opened it he asked me to help his wife. My brother, Becca, Mom and I ran over to the house to find Kathy lying cold and dead on her sofa in her house while watching American Idol. My brother helped put her on the floor to try and recessitate her. It was unsuccessful. The mother was hysterical. Her husband was hysterical too. He asked to speak to her before they took her. She was purple. She was cold. Kathy died. Unbelievable. My heart is just broken. I wasn't really close to her, but we always spoke, we always helped each other out. Her father died last year and I of course helped her then. Her mother, her husband are left. She was the only licensed driver. She was young. Lisa came in and tried to help her too. It was unsuccessful.

Kris won American Idol. Kathy and her mother came home early to watch it. I hope she voted for Kris. I think she would be proud.

My relationship with God has been growing a lot closer lately. I've been a stranger in his house but I'm getting better.

A lil bit of Perfection

· The perfect outfit: Jeans, adorable shirt and flip flops

· The perfect meal: Man I love food questions. Seriously. I read the first part of this question and then spent the next 10 minutes in a food daydream reminiscing over all the meals I’ve ever had and almost orgasmed thinking about a pasta dinner @ Coco Pazzo in Chi town. I do love a lot of different foods but today my perfect meal would be a beer, a hot dog with the works, and a funnel cake.

· The perfect hangover cure: Greasy breakfast food, Advil and the warm embrace of my bed.

· The perfect road trip: The one I took a few years ago with my girlfriends. We ended up in the middle of nowhere. I think it was Falling Waters WV!

· The perfect facial feature: I’m throwing out the cliche and going with a smile.

· The perfect drink: Depends on my mood. But my top 3? 1) Crystal Light Peach Tea 2) Bacardi and Coke 3) H20

· The perfect song: Sexy Back by JT, Irreplaceable by Beyonce, or These Are The Days by Van Morrison

· The perfect sign of affection: Reminding me that The Apprentice is on. Seriously. A dude capable of remembering when a show is on that he hates but reminds me of it because he knows I like it? That’s good stuff.

· The perfect afternoon: Patio with friends, slurping slushy drinks and talking about nothing that matters.

· The perfect vacation: So, Cal when I was 23, Falling asleep on the beach being cuddled by a charming Cali boy. WHATS NOT TO LOVE?

· The perfect invention: Superglue OR my hair straightener

· The perfect type of wedding: One that takes place somewhere other than here! Surfside at sunset at my parents house in Corolla

· The perfect album: The HITS by Aerosmith. Trust ME!

· The perfect accent: When it comes to loving accents- I’m an equal opportunity girl. I love them all.

· The perfect date: Bowling. It’s a perfect opportunity to drink beer and test out the trash talking. Plus you get a legitimate reason to stare at your dates ass. Yes, I’ve given this a lot of thought.

· The perfect weather: 70’s, clear skies. Bring on the tan!

· The perfect party: Anything with good friends, a theme, a keg and men who think I’m adorable.

· The perfect sport: Baseball

· The perfect thing to say: “I adore the way you: ____________ ” (insert anything that you never previously realized you did or ever thought was adorable. Examples: scrunching your nose while reading the paper, snoring, and/or clap your hands when you get excited).

· The perfect day of the week: Thursday. It has the excitement of a Friday but with better television programming.

I'm starting to feel more like myself again. I've been spending a great deal of time with Lisa. Lisa is fun and crazy. Not to be confused with Kennedy's mother, Lisa. This Lisa is trouble! Haha!

Nothing new to report. All is well!

Dear Alice

Growing up you were like family. I would run into my Paw Paw's office and you would stuff me and my brothers and sisters up with ice cream, candy, and pop and send us on our way with sticky hands and faces much to Paw Paw's dismay. You know I adore you. My entire family is eternally grateful for all 50 years that you've given us.

However, your husband is a big fat perv. It's really weird to speak to you when he's in the room because I feel his stares. His song's he makes up with my name, "Amaya the sweet papaya" really is disgusting. Not only is he tone deaf, but he can't carry a tune. When he raises his eyebrows to me, I want to vomit. Does he really think I would ever even look at him in that light? I like older men, but 65 is a little too old for me. I know you see him stare at my chest even when my arms are folded tightly across my chest. I'm not only grossed out but I'm ashamed.

Your husband brings back a lot of uneasy feelings and memories for me. I know you are a remarkable woman, but forgive me when I cut our conversations short when he suddenly appears.

Summer Lovin'

I’ve appointed myself an expert on all things summer. Why? Because I feel like appointing myself something and I have a lot of opinions today.

- if I can see your vagina, your shorts are too short. For real.

- Sunscreen- wear it. If I look at you and can’t help but wince in sympathy pains- I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. Even the prettiest summer dress, or most fantastic personality can’t distract someone from a lobster burn. Repeat after me, “baby oil is not my friend”.

- Perhaps skip the long sleeved silk shirt. Silk showcases sweat stains the same way Britney showcases neurosis. And even if your are wearing the most amazing outfit, if you have sweat stains the size of footballs under each arm, I’m going to be distracted.

- If you believe in one thing this summer, believe in the magic of patios. And beers. And beers on patios. Nothing will make you happier.

- If flip flops were husbands, I’d been Elizabeth Taylor. I do believe in keeping ones that you love year after year, but if a pair of flip flops cost less than the cost of a beer splurging on a new pair that are new, clean and bright is a good idea.

- Speaking of flip flops, let’s talk feet. Make them presentable. I mean, let’s face facts. For the majority of the world, feet are not the prettiest things. But you can definitely make sure they don’t make other people scream in horror and run away when showing them off in your new flip flops. Scrub, polish, lotion. Perhaps splurge on a pedicure. But for the love of all good things, if I see another person running around in Juicy Couture flip flops with feet so dry you could rub them together and start a fire- I’m not going to be okay. AT ALL.

- Deodorant is no longer optional for the small minority who thinks it is during the fall, winter and spring months. (Also known as people who always find me in crowded public places and stand far too close to me spouting communist views).

I’m putting my laptop away and heading out to a patio with friends. Because the only thing better than a patio and a beer on a Friday night, is a patio and a beer on a Monday afternoon. Man I love long weekends.

What’s your piece of advice for everyone this summer?

Babies and Unsolicited questions

Yesterday was Haven's baby shower in Jordan's mother's courtyard at her nice Surburban, Northern Virginia home. The baby will make his arrival at the end of May. They have changed his name several different times due to hormones. He will now be called 'Luke'. The look on my Mother's face was utterly priceless when Haven announced his official name. (Becca, Mom and I will work with her on this) The name is repulsive! Grandma even laughed and said 'When can we expect Mark and John since you already have Mathew and Luke!" Haven in all her true beautiful glowing self, just laughed it off preceded by one of the infamous Warner Woman stares.

We were surrounded by beautiful spring tulips and Mountain laurel with waterfalls. We sipped on lemonade, Champagne and ice tea. We ate delicious cucumber sandwhiches and shrimp with tortellini kabobs. We played a bunch of lame games. I was holding Haven's hand as the Mother in law asked the dreaded lame game question: How much weight has Haven gained? Even my mother thought it was out of line. A Warner Woman's weight is a sensitive subject having grown up in Surburban McLean with mothers who want you to be healthy, Tall & thin, i.e. (I am neither) Becca thought it would be cute to answer 65 whopping pounds. However, she has gained 34 lbs at 34 weeks of pregnancy. Is that bad, Lisa? Drew? After we suffered through the lousy questions, I essentially won the Haven game. My gift was a crystal candy bowl and beautiful stationary. I love pretty paper!

After socializing in the hot sun with my grandmother's garden club friends, I had to give me annual State of My Uterus address. These women felt it was neccessary to quiz me on when I was going to get married and have babies. I realize this is a typical question for those of us past our college age years. Yet it astounds me how often I hear this familiar, cliched, if usually (sometimes?) well intentioned, refrain.

Having seen and heard from a number of you it would appear that many of us are fielding the same infernal question, whether you are (1) like me and mentally preparing/wishing for future children and the related concept of 18-24 years of not sleeping in ever, or (2) just not wanting any children of your own, at any point, Marisa is perfect enough or (3) very much wishing to have children but struggling to conceive them in the first place. In short, many of us lady-types happen to not be pregnant right this very second. We are also perhaps not eager to discuss that fact with, by means of completely random example, your sister's boss' ridiculous secretary.

We thirtysomethings need to get together and concoct some politely, snarky retort to all of these pushy questions that we've endured over the years.

Of course, all of these women know everything! Based on the comments I've heard lately from pregnant friends and Haven in particular, I understand that no small number of people are STILL, in this 21st century AD, offering any and all manner of unsolicited, uterus-bound advice, under that most sinister guise of "help".

You might be asking yourself - why is Amaya, who is not pregnant, who has never been pregnant, NOT that it is anyone else's business, taking on this monumental task? What relevant observation could such a person possibly have on a state she has never experienced? Um . . . good question.

Happily, I've never been one to let inexperience get in the way of my opinions. Plus, my pregnant sister and friends are a bit preoccupied at the moment with, you know, being pregnant. And - AND! - you won't find me giving them advice about their current state. Surprising, I know.

In truth, the point of this post is motivated by sincere anger and heartbreak on behalf of my dear Haven who has recently had the double burden of pregnancy worries and fielding your numerous and - might I emphasize - unsolicited offers of advice about the same. To that end, a couple of thoughts from this admitted interloper:

- On how a mother chooses to bring her child into the world: I have no doubt that, due to your carb-free, pesticide-free, shadow-free diet throughout your rigorously scheduled pregnancy, your own personal labor was nothing short of a Broadway musical of delights. Keebler Elves assuredly tap-danced from your ladybits in painless unison to usher your Organic Little Bundle of Joy into the world, while the sun shone from your every orifice and Zac Efron crooned softly in the background.

Here's the thing: although your own pregnancy was a veritable feast of High School Musical delights, reliable sources tell me that might not be the case for everyone. Yes, even if they do follow your highly-regimented advice to the letter. What's more, if the object of your rapturous advice has not been so fortunate as to have such a blissful pregnancy, odds are your storytelling, strewn with fairy dust as it might be, may only serve to make the mom-to-be feel guilty or worse.

- On suggesting that a pregnancy setback or tragedy is the result of divine will: Religion being a deeply personal matter, I won't touch it with a finely manicured finger here except to say this - religion is a deeply personal matter. While some might take comfort in this sort of advice, many - even the spiritual amongst us - might not. Assume the latter & tread carefully, please!


Friends, can't we just all share one big epidural cocktail* and get along - silently, supportively, and, unless specifically asked, without judgment of our pregnant friends?
*Or not, if you or your Life Birth Lamaze Career Coach are against that sort of thing. Gah.

A Song for Me?

Joseph told me that when he listens to Beyonce's 'If I were a Boy' - he thinks of me and all of man troubles! He was actually understanding and sincere.

Is there a song that reminds you of someone?

Motto of the Nite....

You can sleep with a redhead

You can sleep with a brunette

But

You won't get any sleep with a blond!!

Nutshell

I Love…
myself (don’t hate me because it was the first thing that came to my mind,- I was raised this way), my family (because if I said ’shoes’ next that would look reeeally bad), seeing potential, the smell of suntan lotion, books that make me cry, people who make me think, *a man with a plan, Friday nights when I’m sleeping by 10pm, hot showers on cold mornings, the face a child makes when they finally understand refraction, my friends, Cristal, the feel of clean sheets, dirty jokes, songs that feel like they were written about my life, Fridays, the mysterious allure of Kevin Costner, shoes!, when I get what it’s all about, people who are witty to the point of genius (ie. Jon Stewart).

I Ache…
(sadly) after an hour of really intense playtime my many nieces and nephews who have deemed me the human jungle gym. And during Aunt Flow’s visit.

I Always…
wake up before my alarm clock goes off, say “thank you”, blush when people make a big deal out of hearing me swear, try to give exact change, cry at weddings, think more is better, giggle when someone says ‘balls’ (because apparently I’m 9 years old), talk with my hands, leave a good tip, stop talking when I’m mad, complain about celebrity fascination but then catch myself wondering if Jen A will ever find true love.

I Usually…
write too much when answering these. Brush my teeth 3 to 4 times a day, take my shoes off before I go into my house.

I Am Not…
likely to ever stop being a daddy’s girl, really competive (unless it’s Scrabble and then I want to destroy you and all your loved ones everyone to try their best and have fun), able to lie well, faster than a speeding bullet, likely to ever beat you on a math test, eager for Friday, good at bartering, a fan party boys or most sugar free products

I Dance…
When I'm drunk, with my eyes closed, until I’m sweaty, as I master my air guitar, while planning my wedding to Justin Timberlake, with a passion rivaled only by those competing on “Dancing with the Stars”.

* a man with a plan refers to a well-adjusted man who doesn’t need a 5 drink minimum/an entourage/lifts in his shoes/a blackberry to feel confident enough to come over and say hi.

Love Letters

Sometimes I really do think I was born in the wrong era. I yearn to be a heroine in a Jane Austen novel. Fastened into a corset, wrapped up in yards of silk and a bonnet- clutching a finely written love letter from a lover on an adventure, but aching to return to me.

But I was born in the late 70's. Meaning, that the majority of my adult ‘love letters’ have come in the form of emails. I know this is partly my fault (I tend to email people before calling, or actually- gasp!- seeing them), but last night while I embarked on the dreaded tasks of cleaning up my email account, I couldn’t help but feel sad about it all.

My grandkids will not inherit dusty stacks of ink stained declarations of love wrapped up in faded ribbon. There will be no discoveries of who I loved at 18 years, or 22, 25, or 30. There will be no tangible evidence of the loves I’ve held and the loves I’ve lost. And in ways that I’m sure I will articulate better when I’m older, this makes me feel like I’ve done a disservice- not only to those I would want to share the letters with, but to myself.

As I allowed myself a bumpy trip down memory lane re-reading all the emails that I’ve amassed over the years, I found myself surprised at what I found. I had forgotten how lovely love could be. How earnest a man in love could sound, what surprises could unfold when I clicked to open an email. I found words that made me cry, words that made me laugh- words that took me back to a time when I felt smarter, but was far more foolish. I found words so… bare, so private I felt like an intruder reading them, though they were addressed to me. I found myself wistful- not for the man, but for the moment when a few short sentences would say everything I needed and wished to hear.

I poured myself a drink and sat back, staring at pages and pages of sweet notes crammed with inside jokes, long letters filled with promises of things to come and messages short on punctuation but long on thought. I realized that if I wanted to, I could print each one out, wrap them tightly and store them away, computer print-outs on pristine white paper never touched by anyone but me. Or I could let them sit in my inbox, a reminder of what is over. Or, I could delete them all, and start new. And promise myself that my Los, my love would be given a pen.

I deleted them all. I deserve the dusty stacks, touched by his hands as well as mine. I want that. And I know one day, my grandkids will too.

I’m off to find a bonnet.

Update

All is well here after having a wonderful weekend! Perfect weekend weather this weekend too. Lets get that boat Mr. V!

Happy Birthday Emily

Emily is 6 today!

I'm hungover.

I'm no good.

Going to dry up in the sun.

Sex on the beach is not good for me.

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter everyone! Mine was very nice. Details to come :)

A Sign of the Times

I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that in the last week I've had roughly five people solicit my house for various services. While that may not be extraordinary in another neighborhood it is unheard of here where my *No Soliciting* sign and adjacent gate generally let people know ahead of time that I'm not interested. Not that I'm being bitchy...I just usually know that I wont be interested in the Vacuum that doubles as a jump rope or the gajillion magazine subscriptions I'll never read. But if you're selling Girl Scout cookies......

Seriously, there's been a marked increase in the number of house calls I've received. As well, the cast of characters are not the usual door-to-door salesman meets Harry Krishna type. Several days ago I answered the door only to come face to face with an impeccably dressed gentleman in his early 50's who, after getting over the initial shock of finding me in my pajamas at 2PM, proceeded to launch into a diatribe about various investment options. Before I could let the poor man know about my illicit affair with Charles Schwabb he flashed his card, handed me a pamphlet and scurried off to the retirement community. Glancing at his card I took note of his name and it was a good thing that I did as two days later I received a thank you note from said gentleman thanking me for my time! This wasn't your random proselytizing freak but clearly a man who believes that, in this dire economy, desperate times call for desperate measures.

And you know what? I respect that.

But that's besides the point.

Fact is I'm finding more and more individuals going back to basics and soliciting themselves and their services door-to-door as waiting for the phone to ring isn't cutting it any longer. Just in the last few days I've had investment man, a representative from the American Lung Cancer Association, Merry Maids, Various Handymen and two arborists stop by and either ask for donations or offer services. While I don't like the blatant disregard for my *No Soliciting* sign I empathize with their plight of needing to make ends meet. Hence, I don't chew off their head and ask if English is their first language when I answer the door and realize there's no Girl Scout cookies in sight.

It's definitely a sign of the times. Maybe I should change my sign to *Good Luck*

If things had been different...

Before I met Jack Daniels, discovered how important reading glasses are and found myself commenting on the price of gasoline, I was a kid. I was a kid who had big expectations for herself.

When I was little, being 20 years old made you an adult. Because being 20 years old meant you weren’t a teenager anymore and the only thing after a teenager was an adult. So once I was 20, I was going to be a teacher and a psychologist (apparently Doogie Howser and I drank from the same water bottle). I was going to have high heels and wear lots of pink skirts with flowers on them.

My hair would be really long and always blonde, no dark roots of course.

I would have a big house that had a porch all the way around it. I would have lots of flowers in my yard. I would have a housekeeper. I would drive a brand new red car and I would have gone to St Croix (a place of fascination in my youth). I would have actual tea parties, call people ‘darling’ and wear scarves around my head when I drove.

I would be married.

My husband would look like Uncle Jesse, but would make me laugh like Joey. Sometimes we would kiss when I wanted, and if I didn’t want to he would build me stuff like bookcases and take me fancy places for dinner where the forks would be as small as the ones in my playhouse. I would stay all the way up until 2 am and if I wanted, I would have vanilla cake with chocolate frosting for breakfast.

I would complain about bills, but always have enough money to pay them. I would have cloth napkins and always remember to say “may I ask who’s calling?”, when giving the phone to someone else. I would refinish furniture, quote Shakespeare in random conversation and own a well-used picnic basket.

I would worry about losing my wedding ring down the drain.

I’m past 20 now. A few years past, actually. And I realize that my life isn’t at all what I thought it would be like. I’m my own significant other, I don't drive that candy apple red convertible and I can’t remember the last time I had cake for breakfast.

Am I sad that my life is so different than what I imagined? Sometimes. It does sound easier. But I’m slowly learning easier isn’t always better and if this life means having more disappointments than I thought I would, I’m okay with it.

Besides, if I had the life I always thought I wanted, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t know Jack,- Daniels that is.

X+Y+Z= I'm a rawk star!

Confession: I have boots that I like more than some people. And before you judge me, let’s talk about the boots. They have a heel, are coal black and have a soft cushion insole. They zip up to my knee and do everything you wish magic boots could do. I mean, Cinderella wishes she had shoes like this. When I wear them my legs look longer, I feel three feet taller and suddenly everything I say becomes witty, important and/or insanely insightful. In these boots I’m pretty sure I could keep my own with Brad Pitt- they are just that great. I’m guaranteed a sigh of happiness every time I look down. They look perfect with skirts, dresses or jeans and I’m pretty sure they would even complement a wedding dress. In short, they are perfect. They are the George Clooney of my shoe collection.

I’m wearing them today, thus- boots are: X

Confession: For me, good hair days are better than Prozac. I’m not talking about the manageable good hair day, or the one that becomes good after 10 minutes of straightening/curling/pleading/blowdrying/concocting a recipe of gel,mouse and/or hairspray- I’m talking about the good hair that just starts out awesome. The one where you wake up and you think, ‘what the hell?! Is this really my hair? God does love me!” sort of hair day that prompts you to run all your errands you put off just so you can hopefully run into people. The sort of hair day I imagine Reese Witherspoon wakes up everyday having and that Britney won’t ever again. This hair day happened to me today. It’s shiny, with volume and it just feels longer today (and having it feel long is an important part of it looking great). I suspect it’s not likely to happen again before 2012 so I’m considering going to get head shots taken at Sears!!!

Anyway, fantastic hair day is: Y

Confession: “Irreplaceable” is on my ipod and I love it. (This is where the word ‘confession’ actually becomes relevant). I’m pretty sure when I sing along I sound even better than Beyonce and that I become the first person on the face of the Earth who actually looks cool singing with their eyes closed. Seriously. I don’t know what it is about that song but I could listen to it all the time.

Feeling like I could win a Grammy with todays sing-a-long: Z

Today I found myself going into Walmart wearing my boots with the shiny hair when the Z song came on my ipod. I didn’t walk down those aisles, I strutted through the gaggles of old men and women like a rock star without the drug addiction or entourage. I assume the seniors who stared were looking at my great hair, although in hindsight maybe it was because I was singing out loud.

Spring is here and today it’s in my step!

When a Run Can Break Your Heart

I have a confession. I’m a runner.

No, I’m not confessing to slipping on my pink and silver Nike’s at the twilight hour and running until a thin film of sweat covers me and my body aches in appreciation of being tested. My running isn’t healthy and doesn’t do anything positive for my heart. I run from people. Problems. Discussions where arguments hang heavily in the air like the smell of a burnt dinner that’s ruined the night.

I don’t run from every argument, every person. Just the big ones. The really big ones. The ones who matter, the people that earned an explanation before the shotgun goes and my legs start. The ones who deserve you to plant your feet and have the talks you don’t want to. The talks where your awkward fingers dance on tabletops giving you a focus other than someone else’s apologetic eyes.

Running doesn’t mean I don’t say sorry. When I feel something is my fault, when I have been in the wrong, chosen the thoughtless word rather than the the thoughtful act, I apologize. And I mean it. But when someone has hurt my feelings, suddenly my only option is to throw on my sneakers and sprint to a safe spot, avoiding the hurdles that come with a healthy relationship.

Perhaps running would be fine if I wasn’t the type of girl who liked to look back, but I do. I like seeing where I started, how far I’ve come. I need to see my progress, whether it’s the distance between me and the starting line, or me and a boy who broke my heart. But lately, looking back has only shown me how little I’ve moved. Instead of running on an open track, where the perspective changes with each step, I’ve been on a treadmill- pretending. Pretending that my aches and breaks, pains and gains have been worth something, and you know what? They haven’t. Running only works if you feel better from it.

I don’t feel better.

So maybe it’s time to hang up the sneakers and try something a little better for my health. Something that doesn’t promote regret and make my heart ache in a way that only making a big mistake can. Perhaps table tennis.

Diary of a Sick Baby

Has has been sick for a while only we did not know how sick she was. She wasn't able to convey how she felt to us. She was misdiagnosed twice. Her official diagnosis is Acute Glomerulonephritis. It is essentially inflammation of the kidneys. It is brought on by a Strep. Of course this is all of my fault. A few Saturdays ago Emily complained to me that she had a sore throat. She also had a low grade fever. I went to the Pharmacy and the Pharmacist suggested that I give her Tylenol Meltaways for the pain and fever. I should have took her immeadiately to her Peditrician where she would have been diagnosed correctly. She took those for about 2 days to keep the fever away. She didn't complain anymore. The next time I saw her she was fine. However, Last Thursday she was feverish and puffy. We took her to the ER where she was diagnosed at that time with a UTI. She was prescribed Bactrim.



I spent all day Friday with her and she was swollen and pale, but still very active.
On Saturday morning, she was worse. She vomited her medication up. I intially thought since she is so sensetive to antibiotics that perhaps this was an allergic reaction. The Pharmacist agreed with me. So I took her back to the E.R. where she was misdiagnosed again with a UTI, a Virus, and the face was swollen due to seasonal allergies!!! The doctor did not notice the fact that on Thursday she weighed 45 lbs but weighed 47 on Saturday. We requested blood work, the doctor said NO that it wasn't neccessary. She was prescribed Cephlexin, Flonase, and Zofran and sent home.

She spent most of the day Sunday with Becca, Isaiah, and Chandler and was still puffy.

Monday morning, she was yellow, lethargic, and had the belly of an Ethopian child. She was swelling all over. It was hard to see. She wouldn't leave my side all day. She was the best baby ever! I called her mother, she came after work and said that she has to take her to a different hospital because there is something wrong.

She got to the E.R. and the Dr said that she had Proteinuria. Which is a large amount of protein in the urine as a result of a Bacteria infection. Her blood pressure was dangerously high and she looked almost Mongolian.


She was later seen by her Peditrician who wanted her seen at UVA. She finally was seen by a team of great doctors by the name of Randalla Lakkis and John Barcia. They thoroughly examined her and diagnosed her correctly.


Emily has been brave, only crying when she was injected twice with Predisione. She's had to pee in many cups and has been poked by big needles several times. She's one of the coolest chics I know!!! Keep her in your prayers.

Please Pray for Emily

My lil duckling Emily has been really ill lately. After 3 visits to 2 different hospitals she was diagnosed with "Proteininuria". This affects a childs kidneys. She will be undergoing a lot of tests in the next couple of weeks to see how the predisone is helping. I ask that all of you keep her in your prayers. She needs them!

Its been a tough week!

I spent the early morning hours at the ER with Emily. She is on antibiotics and will be fine now. Not to worry, yall! I slept until 10 am. I went to my MRI because I screwed up my back last weekend, which was a walk in the park. And by park, I mean Rock Creek Park, Alone, Rainy, and Scary. Picking up on the sarcasm?

After that fun experience I ended up at Walmart. Walmart is where I go and find anything and it makes me feel better. My basket was filled Fiji water, some fruit, three packs of strawberry bubblicious bubblegum, Apple Cinnamon rice cakes, Baking ingrediants, and enough magazines to paper mache a house- inside and out, when I heard three girls having the kind of discussion that my brain was born to listen in on. They were deeply involved in the kind of girl talk you can only have when you are nineteen and have just discovered how FABULOUS you are. A lot of “very’s” and “like’s” and “totally omigod”. There was a also a lot of:” I’m so excited for tonight!”

”Do you think he will be there tonight?”

“She’s such a ho.”

“Duh! Buy the biggest bag of Cheetos!”

“You are going to look so hot in that shirt!”

And my personal favorite:

“Do you think 7 two liters is enough mix for all three of us?”

I put down a box of special k and smiled to myself. Because no amount of partying, no amount of first kiss butterflies, no squeals with friends while curling my hair would ever make me want to go back there. To the age of ignorance where I didn’t know drinking enough to float an ocean liner would result in me holding on to the bathroom floor with curled fingers, praying that death would take me out of my misery. Or at least cause the room to stop spinning like carousal on fast forward.

I left the store without buying mix or Cheetos. And I couldn’t have been happier.

I came home and made chicken chili, vegged out on the couch with my sick little ducklings. Its been a good day.

My Heaven

Thinking of Lent got me pondering What is your Heaven going to be like? In heaven there will be cheesecake, flip flops, flowers and duvets. You won’t need to give explanations, or apologies or change for a dollar. There will be no alarm clocks or tube socks or allergies or diabetes. Friendships and milk will never sour with age. You will never lose the reciept, your sanity, or a bet with your brother. Stamps will be free and we will all be our ideal weight. You won’t have the same argument, with the same person, in the same way for years on end. In fact- you won’t argue at all.

Oh, and Peanut M&M's? They will fall from the sky like raindrops. Raining candy has always been with me...even before my strange facination with Uncle Jesse from full house!

Do You Lent?!

I’m religious. I do believe in God. And I believe that believing in something makes me feel better. I'm not Catholic, I'm non denomenational.

But that’s not the point of this ramble. This is about Lent.

I have a friend who practices Lent and I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of ‘giving something up’. Willpower has never been one of my strong suits, but that’s because I hate the idea of giving something up forever. Forty days of sacrifice? That’s something I can do.

It’s been explained to me that deciding what you give up should be based on what you like. Since it’s about sacrifice, it should involve giving up something you enjoy. (This point was made clear when I heroically declared I would give up folding my own laundry for the next month and a half). Apparently, a lot of people give up a favorite food. I dismissed this quickly. When you’ve already had to give up your favorite foods (and most food in general), and find that you actually dread having to decide what to cook because there are so many options (think celiac’s disease and not a zealous food watcher)… the idea of giving up more food just doesn’t seem right. Maybe that’s selfish but until you’ve ate a frozen dinner for dinner because nothing else in your pantry or fridge is safe… do not judge.



I asked a few friends:

Haven: "Sex because it makes me fat".
Michelle: "Drinking during the week"
Becca: "Visa"
Dad: "Sweets and Meats"
Dr. Drew: "My 07 Mercedes" (it was replaced by an 09)
Missy: "my realtor"

I was explaining the idea of Lent to a friend who got me to re-summarize what criteria people used in deciding what they gave up.

Something they enjoy.

Something (in a lot of cases) that isn’t healthy.

Something that they eat or use or experience often.

Then it hit me. I know what to give up.

I just have to figure out a way to tell him.

JK!

CFV

Remember those walls I built
well baby they're tumbling down
And they didn't even put up a fight
They didn't even make a sound


I found a way to let you in
I never really had a doubt
Standing in the light of your Halo
I got my angel now


It's like I have been awakened
every rule I had you breaking
Its the risk that I'm taking
I aint never going to shut you out

You know you're my saving grace!

Tears keep falling

Today has been all wrong. Just horrible. I was supposed to spend the evening in McLean at my friend Ana's house. That didn't happen. I couldn't pack, I couldn't do anything. So after nearly 2 hours of crying, I spent the day with Kennedy and Emily. They know just how to cheer me up. They insisted on calling him half a million times. They love him. As much as I do. What did I do?

On Second Thought

I'm reconsidering my spring break. My heart is broken into a million different pieces.

Strap on your heels!

It's going to be a long weekend leading into the week! I maimed my liver for the second night this week. First, I apologize to all of the drunk dials this morning. "DCFinance Guy" your quick wit was much needed. While most of our drunk-dials to each other were utterly hilarious, I specifically looked forward to the drunk voice mails. Nothing beats a bunch of intoxicated slurring recorded for your listening pleasure. Seriously, if you don't have a drunk dial buddy, I suggest you get one. Who else would be willing to listen to you go on and on about Queso dip and Vodka Cran at 3 a.m.? You can never be too safe!

I am heading to Tyson's today for some sista time and some shopping.

SO I CAN MAKE IT JUICY FOR YA!

These are the dresses from Juicy that I want for Malibu. Soooo sexcited.

Xoxo,

Amaya

The Joker Made Him Do It

After arriving home from Sun Valley, Becca was informed about what was going down on the Shenandoah National Park. Missy was already on the park, enjoying a 2 hour round trip hike with her boyfriend. I had heard several different renditions of what happened and slowly the truth is starting to come out. It's a little preverse and sad, but all in all this 25 year old kid was mentally ill. I can't judge him, but I hope God has mercy. According to some friends, what happened here is what is called Murder by Cop Suicide. It's when you can't actually pull the trigger yourself, so you point to a cop and they do it for you. Very sad. Read on.

By Kate WiltroutThe Virginian-Pilot© March 13, 2009
Spc. Christopher Lanum loved the Joker, the character from Batman.
There were Joker posters and Joker masks in his barracks room at Fort Eustis.
Early Sunday morning, Lanum cleaned his knives and told his girlfriend, Patsy Ann Marie Montowski, that he was "preparing for war." He'd told her that before, but this time he was dressing the part, putting on a Joker costume he'd worn for Halloween.

He dictated a good bye note to his daughter; Montowski wrote one to her own children. The letter, labeled "To our families and friends," also contained messages to both their parents.
The letter was found hours later in Lanum's car at Fort Eustis, after the couple allegedly attacked Spc. Mitchell Stone, a soldier who shared a suite with Lanum in Building 696 at the Newport News post.

After allegedly slashing Stone's throat and shocking him repeatedly with a stun gun, Lanum fled with Montowski in her minivan with a 12-gauge shotgun, several knives and a bloody razor.
Stone was taken by helicopter to Sentara Norfolk General Hospital with serious injuries.
As Montowski drove west across Virginia, Lanum painted his face to look like the Joker.
Hours later, after leading police on a slow-speed chase through the serpentine roads of Shenandoah National Park, Lanum - a 25-year-old combat medic who had served 15 months in Iraq - was shot dead.

Montowski appeared Thursday in federal court in Norfolk. She is charged with being an accessory after the fact to Lanum's alleged assault on Stone.

Relatives of Lanum and Montowski declined to comment Thursday.
An affidavit filed Wednesday in federal court describes in detail the couple's alleged actions. The nine-page document, written by an FBI agent, includes information from interviews with Stone and Montowski, as well as descriptions of rooms 258 and 259 in the Fort Eustis barracks where Stone and Lanum lived.

Montowski, who was wounded slightly in the shootout, told investigators that the trouble started after she left Lanum's barracks room to get cigarettes out of her car.

She told them Lanum, who had been cleaning his knives, refused to let her back into his room. So she knocked on Stone's door and asked if she could pass through his room to the common area he shared with Lanum.

The men began arguing, she said, and a full fight ensued.

Stone, who Fort Eustis officials said Thursday has been released from the hospital, told an FBI agent that Lanum shocked him three times with the stun gun before he fought back and ended up wrestling Lanum on the floor. Stone said Lanum urged Montowski to use the stun gun, and she shocked him four more times before he was able to free himself.

As he tried to open the door and flee, Lanum came from behind and cut his throat, Stone said. Stone made it to the first floor of the building, where he told base EMS personnel that Lanum had attacked him right after Lanum's girlfriend passed through his room.

Fort Eustis MPs found blood spatter on the walls, floors and furniture, and a knife and loaded .45 caliber handgun on the floor of the common room. A blood-covered stun gun was on the floor of Stone's room. Hanging on a bedpost in Lanum's room was a purse with Montowski's driver's license inside.

Fort Eustis officials said Lanum, who returned from Iraq in September 2007, had been stationed at the base since November. Both he and Stone were assigned to the post's health clinic. The 600 uniformed and civilian employees of the clinic have been offered counseling, said Karla Gonzalez, the base public affairs officer.


Gonzalez said she had no information about whether Lanum, a combat veteran, had sought counseling or was receiving any type of treatment at Fort Eustis.

The base is about to finish a month-long safety stand-down focused on preventing suicide.
It isn't clear whether Lanum intended to harm himself or expected to die. Montowski said that in the letter he dictated to his daughter, Andrea, before the assault, he said he could not explain his actions.

Montowski told agents that she also wrote a good bye note to her children, but it was not a suicide note and she did so only because Lanum did.

She told the agents that after the chase, Lanum tried to kill himself with a shotgun. At one point, he handed her the gun and asked her to shoot him, but she threw the gun down.

According to the park rangers and Virginia State Police troopers involved in the chase, Lanum had the shotgun pointed at the officers who approached the driver's side. His finger was on the trigger, and the affidavit said that he refused repeated demands to put down the gun.

One trooper fired through the window, and Lanum's shotgun discharged. He was struck several times and was declared dead at the scene. It is unclear who fired the fatal shots.

Funeral services are scheduled for today for Lanum, who was born in Portsmouth and later attended Kellam High School in Virginia Beach.

Kate Wiltrout, (757) 446-2629, kate.wiltrout@pilotonline.com

Unbelievable

I can't let it go.
Its like an addiction
Wouldn't be my first
It is me.
keeps me coming back for more


Once in your life you find someone
Who will turn your world around
Pick you up when you're feeling down


You're all that I want
Ive been waiting for so long


Make it happen?

What Are You Thankful For?

At the risk of sounding cliche' gratitude is paramount to maintaining perspective. Even now, as I'm feeling a bit down, I struggle to find objectivity in everyday life - but I'm going to try. Taking a que from my wise old Southern grandmother, I am attempting to single out just a few things of which I am thankful for.

• Virginia Winters that have been tres' mild --75 degrees on Monday
• Maxi dresses are in vogue--perfect for 'fat days'
• Isaiah, Chandler, and Mathew think I'm awesome!
• Stacy's Simply Naked Pita Chips have only 350 calories for an entire bag
• It's 35 days until I'm 30!
• Theres a trainer at the gym thats cute!
• Tall, Non fat, Latte, 3 splenda, light whip-- yummy

And just what are you grateful for ?

Bitch Post!

To Whomever Used the Elliptical Before I Did,

That blue spray bottle strategically placed in front of you, the one that clearly says "SANITIZER", yeah, thats for sweat-noxious individuals such as yourself. Those of you who drop your beads of just Ick all over the place need to start wiping down your germs for the next healthy bod trying to use the equipment. Cuz me? I'm really not down with using my fingers as windsheild wipers while attempting to input my data or placing my hands in vats of your bodily fluids while trying to grasp the machine, k? Got that?


Signed,

Girl who just got over second round of cold this season



Dear Judy aka My Bikini Waxer,

I totally get that you're angry with your husband, Charlie for fooling around on you, as you should be. And I'm waaaay empathetic to the fact that you need sex reeaaallly bad. However Judy, a scorned woman describing me as the woman that fooled around with thou lovely Charlie,who is angry and frustrated, that does not bode well with hot wax and my delicate, beautiful, little pootie! I think you took off a top layer of skin this time!! Perhaps I can recommend a good therapist? I won't be making my next appointment btw, (cough, laser hair removal, cough)

Signed,

You're once faithful client who is now soaking in Aloe Vera!



Dear Post Man,

No! I'm not interested! Can't you just leave my packages or do I have to keep hiding around the back of my house?

Signed,

Girl who is seriously considering buying less online!



Dear my long time Manicurist,

I get it. You don't want me to understand what you're saying. But every time you abruptly stop our conversation in English and begin hurriedly chatting away in Vietnamese I get paranoid. I know you know this and you're probably talking about my dry winterized hands. Cut it out.

Signed,

Girl with hands complex.

Today

I didn't get much sleep last night, it was a horrible night for me. I'm sticking to my guns though.

Anyway,

Going to the doctor with my daddy today. Kennedy is going with us. She seriously is all things beautiful. She is the only one that can make me smile and melt at the same time. She loves her new frilly spring print dress that I bought her. I love to make her smile!

Yesterday I overslept because my heart was content. I was up at 5:30 this am and on the treadmill, I was dressed and ready to leave for daddy's dr's appt at 8:30! I'm going to try and cheer up. There's going to be a plethora of hot doctors and I will get my flirt on today!

This time next week my girlfriends and I will be in Malibu California soaking up the sun and working on our tans. Can not wait!!!

I will be fine. I always am!

"So I try to say goodbye my friend, I'd like to leave you with something warm. But never have I been a blue calm sea: I have always been a storm."

Blame It on Rio

Madonna is on the latest cover of W Magazine. She photos by famed photog Steven Klein are steamy. Her rumored South American boyfriend, Jesus, is scantly clad and super sexy!


I love the necklace!


The face is flawless, the Chopard bracelet looks even better!


Old Hollywood glamour looks sexy on her.



The peephole shot is sooo sultry. Momma is in charge here!



The look on her face is pure lust, the leg is an open invitation.



Can you believe you can find these panties at Kohl's?! The boyfriend's guns are luscious!


This was probably a real shot between Madonna and her boy toy!

Weekly Recap

Went out to a cozy little lounge for happy hour with the girls. We had a great time just chatting and catching up. After weeks of being pent up in my own house with three babies it was nice to get some air and have a candy apple martini. The roads all lead back to sex and dating, we had quite a hot conversation going on :)

I came home and started to pack. My family and I going to try our ski trip one more time. It's only a matter of time until someone ends up in the hospital. We're hoping since everyone is coming with us, we'll be at the ER together! Same state and all.

There are and have been many highlights to my week. Marisa being one of them. I bought her a Juicy Couture hoodie at Bloomingdales. I wasn't sure how she would react. I know she loves the actual Juicy boutiques. She put my fears to rest when she said "It doesn't matter where it comes from, it's Juicy!"

I bought her two bikini's for summer from Victoria's Secret too. Smoking black and Pink Blush.




She has the beautiful spanish skin color and good genetics, she can make a paper bag look good. She's unaware of how good she actually looks. That makes her that much adorable!

Kennedy is selling her artwork for dresses! Anyone wanting a hand drawn crayola crayon work of art from Special K must be willing to buy her a pretty dress. She's loving yellow these days!

Emily is doing really well with reading and is above her grade level :) She is going to be playing soccer this year. Can't wait. Kennedy too.

It's time for me to head to the airport. Sun Valley is waiting. Ketchum Idaho. Who would have thought it would be such a cool place?!

Have a good weekend everyone. Lift everyone up in prayer! We can't get enough of them.

Amaya

Guilty Pleasures

This is the only one I bought, sadly!


I love the intricate little detail!


Great color on any skin tone


Just enough coverage to leave something for the imagination!



Love the little bows, so glam, so girly! ------>


<------I could channel my inner Angelina! Don't forget the wig!


I immeadiately thought of Britney Spears, such a vixen.


This is so alluring and seductive. A birthday must :)


A girl can never have too many boyshorts!

The Bachelor

I'm pretty pissed with the outcome of The Bachelor. Jason Mesnick 'the catch', intially chose Melissa from Texas, a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. Jason popped the question to her and she accepted.





However after the taping of the show, according to Jason "The chemistry was no longer there." He decided that he no longer was in love with Melissa, took back the Neil Lane diamond from her and dumped her on live television!!! He instead reconciled with Molly from Michigan who is a Department store buyer.




We've all experienced some sort of heartbreak in our lives at one time. I feel for Melissa. She was adorable.

Everyone is asking what changed? What went wrong? None of us know really what happened, but it's not really that difficult to figure out, IMO. I'm thinking the sex with Melissa wasn't as good as it was with Molly all three times she screwed him on the show!!!

I speak for all the Melissa's out there when I say we must all slay a few dragons before we get our Prince! Tommorrow will be better!!!

Marisa

I caught up with her tonight. I realized that I actually missed this girl! She's so tres chic and adorable. After a long weekend in NYC she has a cold and is under the weather. Send her lots of positive chi and prayers!!! We <3 Marisa!!!

HAHAHAHA

Someone just told me that my laughter is the best they've ever heard!!! Too funny!

Jacob

Today we raised over $2000 for Jacob! His parents have came up with 10k, so we have 3k left to raise until Tuesday. I'm sure we can do it. Keep your fingers crossed and keep Jacob in your prayers. May God Bless and God Keep!

Take Notes

'Ladies, the market is up today and there may be a light at the end of the tunnel… the new Fed chief, Ben Bernake, sees 2010 as “a year for recovery.” Unfortunately, that means few new purchases between now and then. Your best move might be taking down your 2008 Hampton’s Facebook pictures and hope noone notices that you’re wearing the same Eres bathing suit in this year’s pics. That, and this year’s pictures will mostly be in NC and not NYC!!!!

Courtney

Courtney had surgery today to repair her intestines. It went well. When I last spoke to her she was in a tremendous amount of pain. She said that being away from her babies for nearly a week has been more painful than her actual health crisis.

I have enjoyed having the girls around. They know how to make me giggle. I can't get enough of my neices.

Thanks for the emails and calls re: Courtney. It's very nice to know that she has a lot of people (my fanclub) that is praying for her. Thank You all.

Bake Sale Saturday for Jacob! Who's participating???

My Favorite....

.......Flower would be the Stephanotis. It's from Madagascar Africa and is usually used in many bridal bouquets. It's a bright white flower in the shape of stars. Very pretty and delicate.

Did you even have time to miss me??

After arriving in Sun Valley on Friday, my brother called to inform us that Courtney was at the ER and was very ill. Saturday he called to tell us that she has infection throughout her abdominal cavity and will be in the hospital for an entire week being treated with antibiotics. Once the infection is gone, she will have to undergo surgery to fix the tear in her intestines. The Doctors believe that food got trapped in her intestines and it then absessed. After seeing her yesterday, she looks horrible. She is on Morphine and is still in a great deal of pain. Pray for her, please.

Sun Valley was and is still beautiful. I will make plans to go back asap. We weren't able to do a lot of skiing. We did do some snowmobiling which was a ton of fun. We met some interesting characters there to say the least.

I will fill you in on more later, but I have 5 little demanding ladies who are ready to get their party started---A big birthday party at the skating ring! I have them dressed as if it were the 80's!!! We only had to go to walmart for the fab finds!!!!

The Oscars are tonight :) Yay!

Me

I'm actually feeling much better today. Yay!

My family and I are headed out to Sun Valley Idaho tommorrow afternoon for an impromptu Ski trip. I haven skiied in a while. I'm sure I'll be sitting through a few clinics!

I will fill you all in when I return.


Miss me

XoXo,

Amaya

Update

Sick as all hell....again!

Once a cheater always a cheater

Is that really so I wonder?
And if it is, why is it so?
Is one afflicted by the syndrome of the grass is greener in someone else's yard?
Or is it just the inability to know what one wants?
Maybe an addiction to the thrill of the chase that wears off once it's no longer there.
After all, it is in human nature to want what you can't have.

Could it be a form of Gluttony?
I want my cake and eat it too.
And if this is an affliction how did it come about?
Could it be a result of a bad experience?
A bitter end to an even more bitter marriage.
A bitchy girlfriend or consequence of an unbearable heartbreak that subconsciously won't allow one to get too attached to someone.
And as an affliction is there absolutely no cure for it?

The romantics would say that love conquers all.
The realists would say love has its work cut out for it.
What do the rest of us say?
I say that if "once a cheater, always a cheater" is a sentence without the possibility of parole or redemption, life is pretty grim

I hate going to the gas station.
I would rather go to the dentist and get a tooth removed with a rusty screwdriver than go to the gas station. I would rather go to the gynecologist and get a pap smear with a cactus than go to the gas station. I would rather be forced watch “Fox News” for 12 hours straight than go to the gas station.
I hate the gas station.
Why?
Because it’s one place that I have no idea what I’m doing. This is embarrassing to admit, but I didn’t know how to pump my own gas until I was 21 years old. I still don’t know how to check my oil. Change a tire. Monitor my transmission fluid.
I’m not a lump of inarticulate and uneducated waste. When it’s a topic I want to learn about- I learn. If I’m clueless about something that I feel matters- I will read up on it until I feel confident. Anything involving cars or car maintenance has never made my list of ‘Things I feel so strongly about learning, I’m willing to put down my copy of Instyle or Glamour and cruise on over to the gas station for an impromptu tutorial on car servicing”.
Last week I was driving home and noticed my ‘check oil’ light had come on. I responsibly detoured to the nearest gas station and pulled the lever to pop my hood. My young gas attendant came over and fiddled. And fiddled. And fiddled. And he could not figure out how to lift the hood. He asked me to show him where the ‘latch’ was.
I panicked.
Do I say “I don’t know how to open it”, do I pretend that I do and hope all my stored up karma points get cashed in and I miraculously find it, or do I suddenly pretend my phone is ringing and faux talk on the phone while making apologetic glances? Thankfully I didn’t have to make a choice, another attendant came over to help them. Then they asked me, “What kind of oil do you use?”, which my brain translated into “hdfakhbvweroiuvxd asdjkfhsriuy vbxakljfhasdlh?”. It made that much sense. I hedged my bets and said ‘regular’. They could have filled my car with apple juice, I wouldn’t have known the difference.
I drove away feeling itchy. (That’s been a new stress reaction- hives. Which? Are charming. With my luck the next thing on the list will be full-on body rashes, with a touch of pink eye just for giggles). It’s not so much that I hate not knowing what’s going on at the gas station (and yes, I realize that knowing what type of oil my car gets is NOT like having to master quantum physics- this knowledge is within my grasp), it’s that I hate the idea that I’m re-enforcing the stereotype of the dumb blonde who knows nothing about cars. I might as well have twirled my hair around my finger and giggled like Paris Hilton at the gas station.
Perhaps I need to get that tutorial after all. And I may swing by and pick up my gas station attendant to come with, because I think he could use it too.

Fast Train to Sickville

Actually, I'm lost in Sickville. I took the fast train here on tuesday and woke-up lost in this miserable town on Friday. Aches, pains, nasal drip that looks like cream of chicken soup...what, too much? You should see the green oysters!!!

All I need is some decent sleep and I know I will feel better. However. The nose wouldn't let me sleep on last night and the whine inducing aches and pains of my body wouldn't let me sleep on thursday night. Last night the Vicodin I took helped, but not much. (Note to self: take my last two Vicodin tonight.)

Today, it will be me, Zicam, Flonase, my fluffy pink cashmere robe and two sweatshirts, and a marathon of The West Wing. (Good show, don't know why I didn't watch it more when it was originally on. Probably because I wasn't home, but whatever.) Oh, and I also have the second season of Weeds. Truly, my brain has been sitting like the mushy, mushness it has become since Christmas. Good brain. Zombies, stay away. Big Day tommorrow.

What a weekend!

My Steelers won the Superbowl and I couldn't be happier. I spent most of my Sunday in the hospital with daddy at the hospital. He's not doing so well. Send him lots of positive chi!

XOXOXOXO,

Amaya

Funny

Joan Rivers on the Martha Stewart show:

I have more lines on my face than on Amy Winehouse's table,

Pricilla Presley looks like shes in the witness protection program!

Snow Day!

I woke up to a pure white blanket of snow this morning. We decided to pack up and travel up to the Massanutten Mountains where we went tubing and Isaiah and Chandler want me to learn how to snowboard--Auntie Maya isn't cool until she learns!!!

So just after two hours of playing in the snow, we decided to head home. Becca and I made a huge meal of Rosemary Chicken, Smashed Potatoes and Roasted Asparagus in which everyone loved. Emily and I wrote sentences and practiced our sight words and she overwhelmed me with emotion to see how well she reads. I was truly impressed.

After dinner and homework we went over to Michelle's where we made some Snow Ho's. We named them Cheating Lousy Lay D and Loose Lisa Loo. They're quite a mess!!!



I'm vegging out on the couch, fireplace is on and hot chocolate in my mug all is well. Let the snow fall!

Same Question

I wanted to ask God why He does not do something about

the poverty, wars, homelessness, and injustice I see around me”

“Why didn’t you?’

“I was too afraid that He would ask me the same question”