Mr. G

My mom just called me and told me that my favorite teacher, Mr. G passed away. He was my 6th grade teacher at Lasley Elementary. He was 67 and passed away of a pulmonary embolism after open heart surgery. He died on my birthday. I had to ask my mom (the nurse) what a pulmonary embolism was exactly. I got a very medical explanation for it, but in simple terms, its a blood clot that happens after surgery. He has a daughter, Turi, who I was friends with briefly. We are the same age. Last I heard she was an actress in Hollywood. Apparently she is back living in Denver. Its funny how I am experiencing an odd feeling of loss. I haven't spoken to Mr. G in years, probably 15 years, and I feel like my dear friend who I talk to everyday is now gone. One memory I have of Mr. G is when he found me and my "boyfriend" Cory kissing after school. The look on his face was so funny, he looked amused. Mr G..... I will never forget you. I will always remember your warm face and quick smile. Find my Grandpa A., he's in heaven too, you two will be good friends.

Five for Fighting

A week ago today was my 33rd birthday. I love my birthday. Love it. Every year, I expect the Emily Parade to come thru town and the wine to flow like water. Last year my birthday sucked. I was new at my new radio station and no one seemed to remember at work. My parents didn't call me to wish me a happy birthday until the evening. My brother completely forgot. My sister was Instant Messaging me about something...and 20 minutes in I politely reminded her of my b-day. So last year sucked and apparently the parade marshall had the day off. THIS year I vowed to be different. A friend at work planned a happy hour for the day of my birthday, which happened to fall on a Friday this year. Good times. They decide to close our office at 2:30 so we could start off early. Terri and I go to drop my car off at my house, then off to the happy hour. On the way back to the office, we witness a horrible motorcycle accident. As it's happening, I start pointing and grunting something only dogs and dolphins would understand, then silence. I saw this poor boy without a helmet fly about 30 feet in the air, land on the ground and convulse until the life left his body. It was horrible. And all I could do was grab Terri's hand and pray. We drove to the happy hour in silence. We get to the party and after a few deep breaths and more praying I am ready to move on and all is great. Wine flowing like water and the parade marshall was in full force marching in circles around me. Life was good. My friends from my old radio job, my current co-workers, friends from high school, Briana, Kathy, Cherill, Gina, my brother and other important people are all around me. I was walking on sunshine. I also invited an old friend of mine named Garrett. SIDEBAR! I nickname all of the men in my life, for example, "Cute Neighbor Boy", "Hot Lawyer Boy", "Tex Mex" you get the idea. Well Garrett's nickname is "Hot Hockey Player". Anyway, so "Hot Hockey Player" shows up at the party. We are not dating, but I would like to. Things are great. A wee bit of flirting. I am feeling like Queen for a Day.... all is great. Then... dun, dun, dun.... my brother decides to confront HHP and ask him what his intentions are with me and he demanded that he treat me with respect! HUH? I was horrified. Totally inappropriate. TWWWWEEET - the referee has blown this play dead, and has given Bob #0 on the Red Team- Five for Fighting, off to the penalty box for you. The only saving grace is that I know that Bob did this out of love for me, but I am having a hard time forgiving him. Especially since the hate email he sent me about how, in his opinion, I am 33 and alone, and apparently have lost my pride and principles. Seriously, I could rant about this for 6 weeks. I think I will stop. I have heard from HHP and he assures me that he didn't spend the rest of the weekend cutting my picture of of his yearbook. SIDEBAR! We went to High School together. This too shall pass.

Wheel of Fortune

I love Wheel of Fortune. I often find myself making an appointment with myself to be home by 6:30 pm to see the show. I have a Wheel Watcher Spin ID number and the whole sha-bang. And for the record, I am not a 78 year old retiree. Besides all of the normal stuff people love about game shows including the ability to play vicariously, I am fascinated by Pat Sajak. I can tell in the first few minutes of the game which contestants he likes, and which ones he hates. And I know hate is a strong word... but he's a funny little man. The ones he hates, he interrupts and makes fun of them, which makes me laugh and hoot at the television, because I usually don't like the same people as Pat. My favorite part of the show is at the very end of the game during the Bonus Round. If the person doesn't guess the puzzle, they instinctively shout out the correct answer right after all of the letters have been put up. This fires Pat up. He makes some crap comment about "well, it's easy with all of the letters up" EVERY TIME without fail. Then when he has to open the prize envelope and show everyone what's inside, the contestant always says, without fail, "that's ok"... which usually drives Pat into a hot frenzy and is always followed by another crap comment like "of course it's ok, you just won $27,950 dollars." It's the small things that make me giggle. Sorry Pat, pun totally intended.

Last Kid in Class

My friends joke that I never seem to get with the times.... that I am lost somewhere around 1989. As I am sitting in my office, I am thinking....I love 80's music, have a paper day-timer and an conventional paper Roladex. In fact, come to think of it, I still have a record player in my living room as a part of my main stereo system... that was a gift to me... around 1989. That's me, the last kid in class to have the new hot techy device or fancy schmancy toy. Maybe starting a blog may be a step in the right direction.... even though, I MAY be the last of my friends to start a blog. I still did. Here I go. VA-VA-VOOM.