Home is where the love is

First of all, let me say ... it's a beautiful Sunday in Maggie's World. The cats found room on my lap for both of themselves. It was crowded, but what the hell.
Helped my friend Donna pack the truck yesterday. She's moving to Michigan. I will miss her, but I love that she left some very nice stuff at Chez Mags. Thank you, Donna, for the rugs, the chair, and the antique mirror. And the rug really ties the room together.

My place is really starting to look like my place now, like I brought all this stuff in and I did it on purpose. It's a pretty incredible feeling. You should really stop by and see it. The apartment, not the feeling. Now all I need is a bookcase and I'm set!

It's pretty amazing, because I know none of this would have been possible without the love and support of my friends. They are such an eclectic group of wondrous lunatics, and yet when I look around, my place is full of love because of my friends. The bar/desk Shamie loaned me the money for when we were garage saleing, not to mention my original Shamie painting. The chair Patrick gave me, more comfortable than any other piece of furniture I own. The microwave from Dan. The rugs and chair and mirror and picture from Donna. The clock my late father-in-law made. The photographs of me, Kelly and Patrick from when we were young. And it's not just "stuff" either - it's the spirit. Mike and Rae helped me move not once, but twice, even driving up from Charleston to move me into my first apartment. Kelly & Kevin helped Chris and I move into the first place here in Arlington Heights, and Kevin brought Tofe and Aubri to help me move into the current Chez Mags. And ya know what? It's like a part of them are still here, because they couldn't possibly pack up all the love and take it with them.

That's what makes it a home, I think. The love, whether it came with stuff or sweat, remains. Mike, Rae and Kaylee will be here in a couple of weeks when we'll all roadtrip together down to Jacksonville for Papa Rice's wedding, and I'm hoping they'll leave a little love behind then, too. How about you? If you'd like to come by, my door is open.

Semi-charmed kinda life

Today didn't start out particularly good. I weighed in and I'm only down a half pound.

Devil scale.

But I think I'm getting some definition, and tonight my eyes seemed to be more ... I dunno, in proportion to my head? Not as hidden by my immense noggin?

Worked out after work. I'm up to a full hour on the elliptical. My knees hurt after, so I went for a swim and soaked in the whirlpool before heading home.

My evening? I went with the cutest straight guy in the suburbs to see "Teeth" at the Music Box Theater in Chicago. It's an indie film catagorized as comedy-horror. Unless you have serious Lorena Bobbett issues, you have to find humor in the vajayjay that bites the head that feeds it.

The theater is on Southport. As we were driving, I told Shamie that there was a great Irish pub on Southport but I couldn't remember much about it other than it was next to a small theater. We parked almost right in front of it - it's called Cullen's, and it's next to the Mercury Theater. Anyhoo, loved the movie, loved the crowd, loved the popcorn - big fun. So we were walking to the car and as we passed Cullen's, I said "Hey, there's music!" because two guys were playing guitar in the front window.

"Oh my God, that's Fraker" said Brian.

Seriously. This type of shit can only happen in Maggie's World.

So we went in, hoisted a pint, and enjoyed the feeling of being "with the band." Turns out Fraker really does exist - he's not a figment of Shamie's imagination. They sounded fantastic, and played all kinds of stuff from classic Beatles to Pearl Jam. My pint of Harp's was pretty damn good, too.

A great night, spent with a great friend, completely spontaneous and as close to perfection as you can really expect to get. But I'm out of practice with this whole "out 'til all hours" thing, so I think I'll turn in now.

A little bit of this, a little bit of that ...

Crazy workout tonight. Swear to ya, the endorphins are crazy cool. I think I might steam clean my entire apartment, and then write a novel, and when I'm done with that I'll give the cats a bath.

Another Easter weekend, gone

This one came and went in a flurry. But ya gotta love an Easter Bunny that brings you shoes! (Okay, they're from Terra, but the bunny makes a way better story.)

Spent yesterday at the gym with Terra, during which I had an MMM (see previous post if confused.) There's something about being with her that just makes me feel good. Being in her presence makes me feel beautiful, appreciated, loved just as I am. I love that I have friends who give that to me. I hope they know I feel the same. (If you're reading this, that's a hint.) While we were stretching, she says to me, "Ya know? A lot of women your age don't have their butt up there where it belongs. You don't have that problem."

I tell ya, I love this girl. And for the record, there is nothing wrong with her eyes.

Today I was going to go to the gym again, but I gave myself a day off. I slept in, baked a banana pound cake to take to Dad's, and off I went.

I spent the entire day playing with my 14-year-old nephew, Alex. He brought Rock Band so we could play together. I think it amazes him that I know all the words to "Ballroom Blitz" and "Don't Fear the Reaper" without looking. We pretty much rocked the afternoon away, with a short reprieve to go out back and shoot hoops, which he still can't beat me at, yet. If he calmed down and started concentrating on shooting the basket instead of beating me, he would've started wiping the court with me a year ago. But I think I'll let him figure that out for himself.

Had a great afternoon with my family. They are nuts, but they are also a lot of fun. They are my people. Well, some of them, anyway. Sometimes it's nice, if a bit surreal, to spend time with them and walk away realizing you really had a great time, and it wasn't hard at all. Maybe I'm not too old to grow up.

So it's Easter. Forgive me if I turn on my blinker and change lanes, but I have an Easter memory I'd like to share.

It was eight or nine years ago, I guess, and we were all at church. My whole family, and I'm sure Christopher was there (one of the two times he came along with a minimum of complaining.) I was up front with my sisters and Dad and I saw Mom walk in. My sister Jenn said something to her, and next thing I knew, Mom was gone. Five, ten, fifteen minutes past, and then she finally returned. My dad was livid - he thought Jenn said something that upset Mom and she needed to get away.

Not the case. What Mom needed was a skirt.

Jenn was the only one who noticed that Mom had come to church wearing her black blouse, yellow linen blazer, black heels and stockings, and a lovely black slip. Thankfully, the house was close enough that she could run home and change and still make it back in time for the opening chorus of "Christ the Lord is Risen Today."

That story has been told and re-told so many times, and it never fails to make me laugh. I hope that, somewhere, Mom and I shared that laugh today.

MMM

No, that's not a statement of delight. Tonight, MMM stands for Minor Maggie Meltdown. It only gets really confusing when I use the same abbreviation for a Major Maggie Meltdown.

I was at the gym, working my as off (and may I say I'm quite dismayed every time I work it off and BAM, it's right back there where it was?) Anyhoo, did 40 minutes on the elliptical, 40 minutes on the bikes. a good portion of stretching, and then hit the weights.

Now, I love my gym, so imagine my dismay when, for the first time since I started going there, I got "the look." Most of the time, people are so engrossed in what they're doing, they don't even notice anyone else. But over by the free weights, today it was different. Most people smiled, if they maintained eye contact at all, but there was this one guy I saw in the mirror ... first of all, what the hell - do people not realize that I can see them in the mirror just as easily as they can see themselves, or me? And let's also face the fact that I DON'T EVEN LIKE LOOKING AT MYSELF IN THE FRIGGIN' MIRROR so I'm not comfortable over here surrounded by the doggone things, anyway, and the last thing I need, Popeye, is that look of sheer disdain, as if my sheer presence on the planet is an insult to you.

That one look was all it took to undo the good of the entire day. Talking to Sharon and Ryan and Melissa about how I was doing, letting the time slip by in the company of Terra, who simultaneously entertains and motivates (and I think I do the same for her.) I felt the tears start to well up, and I had to get away.

I don't even remember finding my way to the bathroom. I do remember hearing Terra when she walked in after me - "You didn't really think I was just going to let you walk away and not follow you, did you?"

Eventually, I got off my pity pot and went back out, finishing up on the machines - I don't think I'll be going back to the free weights any time soon. It's intimidating enough when my self-esteem is intact. We went for a swim, soaked in the hot tub and soaked up more moisture in the sauna before showering off to head home.

But there you have it - my first gym-based meltdown. It wasn't pretty. But I survived. And I've spent pretty much every moment since then wishing the asshole would crush his pinky between two 75-pound weights. Is it wrong?

Huh?

I was talking to one of the trainers at the gym last night, and we were discussing music to listen to while working out. I mentioned that I really got into The Who on the elliptical or on the treadmill, and that "Baba O'Riley" is one of the ass-kickin'est songs ever. And he said:

"What song?"

He had not clue what I was talking about. He knew the band, but in reality, he was clueless. Cute, but clueless.

Don't cry. Don't raise your eyes. It's only teenage wasteland.

And Rice? No fair making an old-age joke. A) I set it up so well, it would almost be like cheating and B) I don't care how old you are, this is one of the greatest rock songs EVER and if you don't know it because you're a musical lunkhead, you should have seen the opening of at least one episode of CSI:NY.

Kids these days, I tell ya ...

I am more than my work

Okay, so it finally happened. I hit my first rough patch at work. After 14.5 months, I suppose it was overdue.

Anyway, yesterday I learned that they are looking for a senior writer in my department. So I asked what any sensible woman in my position would ask - what are they looking for that I don't have. The answer? A history of corporate direct sales writing experience. Okay, I don't have that, except for the past 14.5 months, but I have ten years corporate journalism experience, and the prideful part of me knows that finding someone who is better at what I do than I am is going to be a challenge.

Which means that, eventually, they will hire someone who isn't up to my standards and pay them more for the privilege. And it makes me crazy, because I take an extraordinary amount of pride in my work and I feel undervalued and unappreciated.

There, got that off my chest.

Having said all that, it made me think about what I learned over the time that I was out of work (which I've come to call MaggiePalooza 2006.) During that time, I kept reminding myself that there is more to me than just what I do for a living. Sure, I'm a writer, but what else am I?

I am ...

• a daughter, biologically and emotionally
• a sister, ditto
• a knitter
• a singer
• a work in progress
• someone who likes to have fun
• an ex-wife (and may I say, I think I'm pretty good at that one)
• an athlete (just ask Sharon)
• a child, and a grown-up
• an adventurer

There's more, I'm sure ... that's just what flew off my fingers as I sit here at the computer. It helps, because I really don't want to fall back into the trap/habit of defining myself by my job. When someone asks me, "What do you do?" I'd really like to answer "Make great guacamole. You?"

Wouldn't that just set the world on its ear?

A Long Night with Gym

Last night, I met a woman named Sharon.

This was after 40 minutes on the elliptical, an hour in the pool, 20 minutes on the treadmill and another heaven knows how long on the bike. I had an appointment with Ryan to set up my shiny new heartrate monitor at 9 p.m., and since I'm not one to just sit and wait for time to pass I spent the entire night moving.

As I walked up to the Personal Training desk, there was a beautiful dark-haired woman seated behind it. When I approached, she stood to say hello, and all five-foot-nothing of her just exuded charm. This was Sharon.

Ryan came over, and we started getting the monitor set up. The monitor I have is technically a running monitor, and I told Ryan that I hoped it would work even if I didn't run, because I simply cannot run. Only if there's a big guy with a knife behind me, or a cute guy with chocolate in front of me - you know me, the queen of self-deprecating humor. Well, Sharon overhears this and comes around the desk to talk to me.

She came up to me, tall enough to look me in the chin, and says "And why, exactly, will you not run?" And I start to make my excuses - bad knees, too much weight, don't want to get hurt ... she won't have any of it. Turns out she's quite the passionate runner, and she starts to tell me about some of the people she trains who are every bit as out of shape as I am but who run, even just a little bit, every time they work out. And then she looks me in the eye (no small feat for this tiny woman) and says to me, "You may be out of shape, but you are also an athlete. You are beautiful, strong and powerful, and you will never tell me about what you cannot do again. Do you understand?"

Mind you, she's not scolding me, she's encouraging me. Her words were intensely powerful, and today I am a believer. If I want to run, I can. If I want to run, I will. There is nothing holding me back, there are only amazing forces propelling me forward.

And one of them happens to be a pint-size dynamo named Sharon.

Everybody's Irish today

I was Irish yesterday, too. And I consumed enough calories to cause my very own potato famine.

It was the Rathunde Family St. Patrick's Day Gathering, although there were only two Rathundes in attendance, me and the Original Margaret. But that didn't stop us from having a great time. We christened Buzz's new kitchen by allowing him to make us potato pancakes and enjoying Irish Coffee all afternoon. Renee, Randy and their kids Alex and Everett were there, and of course Terra and Drew, her fiancée. We pretty much ate our weight in corned beef, potatoes and key lime pie.

Yum. Pardon my food coma.

My favorite moment of the day came when Buzz was making arrangements for dinner next Sunday, which would be Easter. He asked his girls what time they wanted to eat, and then he looked at me and asked what I was doing that day. It was the sweetest, kindest invitation ever, and it was a declaration that, once again, my definition of family has expanded.

It must be that Irish luck.

There Will Be Bored

This is a public service announcement.

Do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to view the "movie" entitled There Will Be Blood.

Here ends the public service announcement portion of this blog post. The rest is simply details and closing arguments.

The movie should have been called There Will Eventually Be Blood, or Don't Hold Your Breath Waiting for the Blood or There Will Be Blood, but You're Gonna Have To Wait for 2.5 Hours.

I gave up $6.50 of my hard-earned money, and two and a half hours of my life, and for that I blame Daniel Day-Lewis. Fuck you, Daniel. Go steal someone else's kid. Go kick another minister. Go drink someone else's milkshake. Just don't come knockin' on my door. You suck.

Actually, he wasn't bad at the acting ... it's just that THERE WAS NOTHING TO ACT FOR. As Cute Brian (who is reading over my shoulder as I write this so I technically am required to call him "cute") pointed out, the desert made a good supporting character. And added just about as much to the plot.

There were about seven storylines, none of which actually intertwined with the other stories, and none of which were actually resolved.

EVER.

I am a bitter movie-goer. I got sucked in by Hollywood, people, and I am not happy about it.

Best part of the evening? It's a toss-up: either trying to figure out which of our laughs Tina the waitress liked, or the post-movie pie.

Please, don't do it. Don't rent it, don't NetFlix it, don't pay-per-view it, don't let anyone, no matter how cute they might be, suggest that you should see it. Anyone who likes this movie is either blind, retarded, or European.

Or some funky amalgam of all three.

A three hour meal

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of three good friends ...

Yeah, after that, it just gets too hard to rhyme.

Suffice to say, last night the Thursday Night Dinner Group was born. Amber, Patrick and I met at The Melting Pot in Buffalo Grove. They do not, in fact, serve buffalo.

It was Ladies' Night - $6 martinis, and a great deal on cheesy goodness, salad and chocolatey nirvana. We added an entree (French Quarter for me and Amber - chicken, shrimp, steak and sausage - and veggies for Patrick ... hold the peppers.) None of us could believe it when, as we enjoyed our last bites of fruit smothered in hot melted chocolate, the clock displayed 9:30 p.m.

We had been there for three full hours.

I guess that sort of thing happens when you have good friends with whom you can visit and linger over good food and even better company. I can't wait for our next dinner.

Life in moistland

Yes, it's true - I just used my least favorite word, moist. And yet it's true. I've been living a pretty pruney life these days, spending a lot of time in the water. On Monday and Wednesday, I started taking a water circuit class, and after class I relax in the whirlpool for as long as I please ... it's quite awesome.

Tonight in class, I felt graceful. It's been a long time since I keyed in to that part of me, and it felt fantastic! There's something about the water ...

The instructor is hysterical and really wonderful. We laugh through the entire class! Tonight, as I was saying goodnight to some of my classmates, I told them I'd see them on Monday. They asked why I wasn't coming on Saturday, but then they told me class starts at 8:15 a.m. Alas, no ... I do not acknowledge an 8:15 in the morning; I accept only the one that happens at night.

Anyway, I am loving being a part of this class. I wonder what next week will bring.

The positive list

People, by their very nature, tend to occasionally let us down. Some of the people I love most in the world have let me down from time to time - it comes with the territory. It just happens, and in true friendships you weather those storms and it makes the relationship stronger. (However, when one chooses not to even try to weather the storm, well ... it probably wasn't a worthwhile relationship to begin with. Are you reading this, Christopher?)

Anyway, thinking along those terms, I started to reflect on the things in my life that have truly never let me down. Sure, they don't bring me as much joy as people do, but sometimes it's nice to have something to hang your hat on, something to remember when the chips are down.

And so, I give you, The List of Things That Never Let Me Down as of this moment.

• Murphy's Oil Soap. This all around cleaner makes my floors beautiful and smells clean. I love it.
• Coppertone Suntan Lotion. The smell reminds me of childhood vacations, and the sun protection means I can frolic outdoors as long as I want.
• My Thumb Ring. I bought it for myself when my marriage was beginning to crumble, and it is a positive statement I wear on my left hand, in a way replacing my wedding ring. It says "May Your Wildest Dreams Come True," and every time I look at it I am reminded that I believe it's possible.
• The Mac Titanium PowerBook. I love my computer. The only time it crapped out on me, I had accidentally unplugged it and it ran out of juice. I have taken good care of it, and it's taken good care of me.
• Yoplait Yogurt. It tastes sinful, but it's really quite good for you. It's the best dessert I can give myself.
• LifeTime Fitness Center in Schaumburg. My gym makes me feel like a rockstar. It's beautiful, never boring, and is giving me a new and improved body. Today I spent 40 minutes on the elliptical, 30 on the stationary bike, and an undetermined amount of time in the pool, hot tub, shower and sauna. It's like going to a resort every time I go, and I deserve it.
• Cacique Balconette Bras. These gravity-defying wonders of the underwear world take years off my appearance. And they're pretty. Never underestimate the power of a good bra that fits well.
• Aveda Hand Relief Lotion. Soaks up fast, never feels greasy, and smells like a dream. I'll take two, please.
• Sea Salt. If I'm gonna salt my food, it's gonna be with the good stuff. I swear, I can tell the difference.
• Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers. This is the band that basically serves as the soundtrack of my life. As much as I adore Jimmy Buffett and require showtunes, whenever I need to set a mood, no matter what that mood is, I turn to Roger. It doesn't hurt that he's smokin' hot, either.
• My Brown Riding Boots. No matter what I wear them with, I feel sexy. Even though they aren't high heels, these are killer boots. They make my legs look long and strong, and look equally fierce with jeans as they do a short denim skirt. Not too short, though. I acknowledge that I'm no longer 25.
• Sports Night on DVD. Whenever I'm bored, I can pop this critically acclaimed series into the DVD player and live vicariously through the exploits of the amazing cast of this amazing, yet under-watched, show. It always makes me remember that women do have special powers, no matter what Jeremy says.

Somethin' about

There's just somethin' about a hot guy in your kitchen cooking you dinner. You know - watching his strong forearms as he prepares mostaccioli, enjoying the way he feels his way around your kitchen even though he's never cooked anything in it before.

It's even better to sit and relax while he does the dishes, and passes you dessert.

Now if only a straight guy would come do that ...

Yes, Patrick was here for dinner. I love the very Will & Grace-esque way we sort of fall into a rhythm. I love that we can talk about everything and nothing, and that I can tell him I've been angry at him for almost five years and he understands that, and he doesn't pretend like it isn't important.

Old friends are like old blue jeans. They fit better than anything else.

My night with Gym

I went to the gym last night. And I stayed.

I arrived at around 5, changed and made my way to my elliptical machine. I love that damn thing; it makes me happy. I feel like I'm running, but it doesn' hurt me. Okay, 40 minutes on that (which makes me really happy because when I first started going to the gym in September I thought I was going to die at 10 minutes) and on to the stationary bike while I wait for Terra.

I had gone 20 minutes on the bike when she joined arrived. We cycled for a little while longer before going to Pilates class. After an hour of Pilates, we stayed for yoga. After an hour of yoga, we changed into our suits and got into the whirlpool.

Three guesses as to what my favorite activity of the night was!

All in all, it was a great night. I'm not capable of doing everything they did in class - I'm not nearly as flexible as I once was, and I'm a big girl! But it felt so good to stretch and relax and just move in a different way. I loved it. I will be going back.

Sadly, I was exhausted and lightheaded when I finally got home at about 10:15. I thought I'd just pass out in the sleep of dead men, but no. I could not fall asleep.

Maybe it's the endorphins. Maybe I've got too much on my mind. Maybe I'm too sexy for my bed. But right now, the only thing that makes sense to me is coffee.

Lots and lots of coffee.

March forward

Ahh, Sunday. It was a beautiful day. I woke up with sunlight streaming through my window and a cat on my head. Life is good.

I tooled around in my pajamas for hours, watching a couple of movies and enjoying being completely relaxed. It was about 3:30 by the time I thought I'd better get moving and head for the gym.

So I'm walking into the gym and politely held the door open for the person walking in behind me. Imagine my surprise when I turned to look and it was Terra, my ex-step-cousin-in-law. She is the daughter of my soon-to-be ex-husband's mother's step brother. If you followed that, give yourself a medal.

Anyhoo, it was wonderful to have a workout buddy. She is kind, beautiful and inspirational (there's nothing like a friend with a great figure working out next to you to remind you that you, too, can look fabulous!) We're meeting up on Wednesday for Yoga and Pilates.

And to think, I almost didn't go to the gym yesterday. Stuff really does happen for a reason.

Overflowing

It's been an amazing, love-filled couple of days.

Yesterday, my morning began with an instant message from a friend - a simple message, nothing more than "I hope you have a great day" from someone I hadn't heard from in a couple of weeks. It was there when I turned on my computer at work, just waiting for me. I loved being thought of even though I wasn't online; that simple message made me smile all morning.

After work, I met up with Di and we went to the gym. Working out with Di is like having a personal trainer. She gave me some great suggestions of exercises with light weights that I can do even in my out of shape current state. It felt good; I felt strong. Plus, it was so much fun to have a workout buddy.

Di and I got smoothies in the cafe and then had our nails done - my fingers, her toes. Total luxury, that's for sure. Then we dashed off to the movie theater. We saw "Penelope" - I highly recommend it. It was sweet, a modern-day fairy tale unlike anything I've seen in a long time.

And then, it was back home for girl talk into the wee hours. And did we ever talk. Time with Di is magic - the time passes without you even noticing, then you blink and it's 2 a.m. We talked about our evening, and how good it felt to be active and support each other and share the desire to be healthy and strong. And then she looked at me and said, "you are so worth it."

The tears fell without warning, hearing those words and realizing that the last time I really felt like I truly was worth it was when Di was part of my daily life, back in college 11 years ago. Well big damn shame on me. She's right. And it felt so good to hear it, to be validated, to be loved for who I am and encouraged to be who I will become.

When she left this morning, I was so filled with love - love I feel for Di, and the love she gives to me.

I spent the afternoon with my dad, brother, sister and nephew. It's a different sort of love, but love all the same. My nephew is such an amazing kid - he drives me insane, but wants to learn how to make my famous oatmeal cookies, and then wants to try to kick my ass shooting baskets while they bake. I'm just crazy about him. It was a fun afternoon, which isn't always the case with my family.

And then it was off to Chez Farbo to celebrate Patrick's 41st birthday, which is today. This is a family that is crazy, but they are so busy loving you that you forget to care. Tony kept pinching my cheeks (the ones on my face, praise Jesus,) Emma liked when I held her, I figured out that Eric and Christopher are two different kids (I swear to God, all these years I thought they were one guy, and then there they were, standing next to each other.) I drank shots with Donna and planned Fourth of July with Kim and got nearly attacked by Rick and just eased into this house of mayhem and pizza. By the time I headed for home, I had been hugged so many times I couldn't even remember where they'd all come from. The genuine affection touched me in a way I sometimes have a hard time understanding. This is a group of people who accepts me just as I am and loves me anyway. They are my family.

How much family can one girl have? I don't know. But I think it's unwise to try to limit it.

Just the facts

The latest from my downtown penthouse:

• I have a shiny new alternater. I also paid rent. Ergo, I am poor. Send beer.
• Have a very girly night planned with my friend Di. This must estrogen may not be good for me, but I'm looking forward to it.
• It's leap day. Have you lept?
• I was treated to a wonderful lunch at Wildfire. So good I want more. Mmm ... steak.
• This was a rough week, but I performed miracles and got everything done.

That's it, nothing earth shattering, just the lowdown on life in the mid-sized city. Be good to yourself. And to me. I wasn't kidding about sending beer.

Lucky

I love that there are people in my life who I can just visit and say "by the way, I'm spending the night." I love that my friends treat me like family and that I feel like I belong.

Today, I learned that other people feel that way about me, too. My friend Di is coming over on Friday night. She sells this really pretty line of clothing at home parties, kinda like Tupperware for clothes, and I was supposed to have a party at my place but no one could make it. But no big deal, Di is in for the fun, anyway. So she's gonna come to happy penthouse and we're going to the gym together, and then see a movie and go out for dinner. We're talking and she says to me, "Oh, and I'm spending the night, too."

My smile almost split my face in half.

It makes me so happy that I have a place where people feel at home. I love feeling like that at my friends' homes. I feel privileged to be able to offer them the same.

So, when are you coming?

Realization, reflection, reaffirmation

I made it to the gym again today. And by "made it" I actually mean "whew, the car made it there and back." Amber's my lucky charm - I swear talking to her on the phone post-workout made it go.

Anyhoo, as I was on the elliptical trainer this afternoon, I started thinking - a dangerous prospect, in and of itself. But it was good thinking. About halfway through the workout, I felt like I was on top of the world. I felt powerful. I felt like this little workout thing was a piece of cake, and I could damn well kick it up a notch.

It was an amazing feeling, especially considering how I've felt over the last week. Anyone who knows me also knows that I have this sort of love-hate relationship with my body. No matter what kind of shape its in, I can never seem to really dig it as it is. This probably explains the bulimia that damn near got the best of me in my 20's, the near meltdown on spring break 1997, my fear of bathing suits and the way my self-esteem seems to run directly inverse to my size. Trust me, I'm not proud of the way I've treated my body like Woodstock rather than the temple for which it was intended, but still and all I do what I can, and I try to look as good as I can.

For some reason, most boys are just too stupid to notice or care. Just last week, I got to spend some time with a fella I was kinda sweet on. It was great fun, until someone thinner and more beautiful walked in. Suddenly, the girl who isn't a perfect size six became invisible.

It was a horrible feeling. I cried a lot, and when I cry, it gets ugly. But eventually, I stopped crying, and started feeling better. There is only so much crying one woman can do, after all! And I started focusing on myself - how I feel about me, not how other people feel about me. It sounds selfish, but being invisible served as a stark reminder that, sometimes, it has to be all about me. There isn't a damn thing I can do about the fact that the boy behaved like a cretin, or the skinny girl garnered more attention than I. That's just life. But I can hang out inside myself, and figure out what's going on in there.

And today, halfway through my workout, it came at me like a flood. I love my body. It isn't perfect. It jiggles more than it should. It is lumpier than I'd like it to be. But it is also a work in progress. And throughout that progress, I am finding that my body is strong. My body is powerful. My body may not look beautiful, but it is. There is beauty in every curve, every muscle, and yes, every lump, because it's all me.

I am strong. I am powerful. (Sheesh, I'm starting to sound like Helen Reddy. Forgive me.) And yes, there is beauty here. Sometimes it hides, but it's always there.

Maybe you have to be kinda smart to see it. And maybe the boy in question is just a typical dumb guy. Poor sucker.

Weekend fun(k)

So I'm rediscovering how much I enjoy my own company. I'm not driving anywhere I don't have to go these days, because the Jeep needs a little love. It's pretty much work and the gym, and that's it. This weekend, it's been me and my feline roommates, and not much else.

Tried to go to Lake Geneva Friday night, because we were celebrating Kevin and Laura's birthdays. But the sensible side of me (yes, there is one) won out, because being stranded in Wisconsin without my wheels would suck. Believe me, I know. So here I stayed. Went to the gym on Saturday and had a fabulous workout. I love the gym on the weekend - it's relatively empty, so it's very enjoyable. I'll be going back today, as long as the car cooperates, and I'll treat myself to a sauna.

So with all this "Me-Time" on my hands, I've been reading, catching up on movies, chatting online with friends, knitting, cleaning La Casa de Maggie and doing a fair amount of chilling. I'm getting pretty good at it!

Because I got yelled at

My brother emailed me, just to make sure I was alive. That's his subtle way of telling me I haven't written anything in awhile. He's so very gentle. Gentle the way Hitler was gentle.

Anyhoo, it's been a helluva week. Between Dale diagnosing himself with pneumonia (although I can't seem to recall his graduation from medical school) and subsequently threatening to drown in a pool of his own phlegm to learning that Dad's bowel obstruction is nothing much to worry about to realizing that all men really are stupid, that's not just a rumor ... well, I've had a lot going on, and anything I might write would probably come off sounding bitter and cold.

So here's the big update from Maggie's World:

• Dale is still alive, as far as I know. This is due mostly to the fact that I don't live close enough to beat him to death on a whim.
• Brian has been working a lot. This has not worked well with my schedule, as I have needed to vent and he's not taking my calls.
• Boys suck, and not in a good way. The sonsofbitches need to realize that women's intuition is not an old wive's tale. We know stuff. And one of the things we know is that you don't deserve us, anyway.
• Dad is perfectly healthy, except for the leukemia, diverticulitis and ulcers.
• Friends don't want you to hurt. Sometimes they try to fix it, sometimes they don't understand it, but all the time they want the hurt to go away. And sometimes, ya just gotta feel it before you can get over it.
• I have the self-esteem of a gnat. It's been a bad week, one of those can't-get-out-of-bed, please-don't-look-at-me weeks. And yet, I keep getting out of bed. And people keep looking at me. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP LOOKING AT ME!!!

That's life here in Maggie's World. So, what's new with you?

Vacation, six weeks later, final installment

We have a tradition of taking it easy on the last day of vacation. We'll either go shopping, to the spa, or do a little fun recreation. This time, we rented a boat.

Captain Glenn drove the SS Dammitvacationsover through the Sasscagoula River, from Downtown Disney past our resort, Saratoga Springs, and all the way to Port Orleans. Along the way, we past beautiful scenery around every turn.

Captain Glenn at the controls.

The view up river. Isn't it just beautiful?

Here, we are passing one of my favorite resorts, Old Key West. I love the way you can almost feel the sun in this photo.

The Treehouse Villas used to be available for guest accomodations. I have always wanted to stay there and tap into my inner Peter Pan, but alas, they are no longer open to real people. Now, these awesome homes are used for temporary employee housing. I could always get a job there, I suppose ...

The Princess takes a tan.

Aunt Princess with Alex. We're squeezing the last bits of fun out of our trip.

We took a limo home. I love this picture, because Kathie has let her guard down and is just laughing like a real person. When she's not the Princess, her real beauty shows. Notice, though, the perfect crease in her jeans.

It was hard to come home - we had such a good time together. Sure, there were moments that were rough. I can't really look at the Polynesian Resort, because that's where Christopher and I got married. Kathie's inability to accept me as I am got a little old after awhile. But all in all, I brought home great memories of my family. Coming back was HARD!

Vacation, six weeks later, part three

On day four, we split up. Dad and the Princess went on a tour - I think it was the This Costs More Than Your Monthly Rent tour, so Alex and I decided to do other stuff. We went to Downtown Disney.

We had breakfast here. Which doesn't sound like a big deal until you realize this is a chocolate and ice cream shop. Yes, I had a hot fudge sundae for breakfast.

This shop made me think of friends back home. Dale and his bike, Larry who wanted me to pick up a t-shirt but never actually told me what he wanted, and Bruce who is the cutest combination of Jewish leprechaun biker dude.

Okay, so a day at Downtown Disney doesn't make for too may great photo-ops. Suffice it to say that our day included buying Alex a sweatshirt (with money I didn't have, but he "needed" it so how can the auntie say no?) and a trip to the movie theater to see (do not laugh at me) "Alvin and the Chipmunks."

Back off. It was cute.

Day five, we all went together to Epcot. Again, we split up a bit - Alex and I going on every ride, even the ones that demanded a dose of Dramamine, and Dad and the Princess eating their way around the world.

If you've never enjoyed a bit of Beverly, you're not missing anything. It's a Coca-cola product marketed in Italy as an aperitif. It tastes - and yes, I'm being serious here - like a mixture of Alka-Seltzer and Tide. And yet, every time I'm in Epcot, I have to have a taste. This may be a sign of mental illness.

Great ride - it simulates hang gliding, and it completely overwhelms you. Disney does it perfectly here, complete with the smell of fresh oranges as you "fly" over the orange groves of California. I love this ride.

They have completely overhauled what used to be "The Living Seas" pavilion in Future World. It now has a Nemo theme, but still has the most incredible exhibits, including the manatees and dolphins. I may never understand why they have a seafood restaurant here, though. See that aquarium? Yeah, we caught your dinner there.

Just one shot of World Showcase. I have always loved the pyramid in Mexico, and not just because the restaurant inside is beautiful. Has anyone else noticed that food seems to be a major theme of my vacation?

Vacation, six weeks later, part two

The second day of our vacation dawned cold. Like in the 40's. And windy. We were at the Disney Studios, and we were so cold we took literally zero pictures. We were too busy shivering, so you'll just have to take my word for the fact that we were there. We saw the "Beauty and the Beast" show, which was both cool and cold, and the highlight of the day was dinner, served in a warm restaurant.

Day three was Animal Kingdom. It is my favorite of all the Disney parks, because it is just so incredibly beautiful. Here are a few highlights from the day:

Here's Alex, being Alex. My mom taught him to cross his eyes, and then cautioned him that his face might freeze that way. Looks like he really doesn't care.

Coolest. Coaster. Ever. This is Expedition Everest, which is both indoors and out. You encounter the fierce Yeti as you attempt to scale the mountain. Alex and I went on it four times, even though it made me sick to my tummy. It's that cool.

The menfolk at our lunch table. We ate at a new restaurant called Yak & Yeti's. It was so good, we ate there for dinner, too.

I have a little crush on Br'er Bear. When I waved at him, he came over an hugged me, right in the middle of the parade!

The Festival of the Lion King show is one of my favorites. I tried to get a good picture of the tumble monkeys, but they move to fast for me! You'll have to see it for yourself.

A different kind of valentine

You can plan all you want, but sometimes it just doesn't work out.

Take, for example, my plans to spend Valentine's Day dinner with Patrick. Well, when the choices are A) Have dinner with a guy who's coming down with something when I'm just now getting over something or B) Don't, I took the high road.

Which left me on my own for the evening.

Sheer bliss, with the exception of the clogged bathtub.

I thought I'd like to have a nice dinner on my own, maybe watch a movie, and have a nice bubble bath. So I had to stop at the store to buy food for said nice dinner, and some Drano for the clogged bathtub.

The dinner was delish. The Drano didn't work. Which explains why I was wandering around Meijer at 9 p.m. in search of an auger to clear the pipes. Picture this: Girl, desperate for her candlelit bathtime, in shorts and a tank top and rubber gloves, trying to work the damn snakey thing into the drain. There's something in there that I just can't get past. Dammit all, anyhow.

Heavy sigh.

Now there's water and guck in my tub, so I had to let it ssssslllllloooooowwwwwllllly drain before I could clean it.

Thankfully, once it was clean, I decided it could just slowly drain agan after my bath. So there I was, at 10 p.m., submerged in the bubbles, surrounded by candles, drinking champagne and listening to Caribbean drums on cd.

It wasn't what I'd planned, but it was Valentine's Day with someone I love.

Vacation, six weeks later, part one

Hey, I wasn't in charge. All the pictures were on The Princess' camera, so I was at her mercy. But at long last, here are some pix of our New Year's celebration at Walt Disney World!

The flight was on time and everything!

My traveling companions - nephew Alex, sister Kathie (although she is not a nun) and my dad, Glenn.

We flew first-class. The flight attendant took this picture. Don't we look like we're already having fun?

My room. I like having my own space, so no one messes it up. Yes, I'm anal, even on vacation. Shut up, Mike. Now let's unpack and head to the Magic Kingdom!

Me with my favorite character EVER, Jiminy Cricket.

Me and my daddy. Can you see where the big head comes from?

Cinderella Castle. It's magic.

Forgive me, I know this is blurry. For the holidays, they light the castle with countless twinkling lights. It looked like it was covered in crystals. Breathtaking.

Love and other inexplicable phenomena

So it's Valentine's Day. February 14. The international day set aside to focus on love.

It's funny - in all the time I was married, living 24/7 in what should have been a happy romantic world, I never celebrated Valentine's Day. We were so cocky - we didn't need a special day to honor our love. We had Tuesdays, or May 19, or any other day. Trouble was, we didn't have Tuesdays, May 19, or any other day. The days just slipped by into nothing. The romance was gone as soon as we started peeing with the door open.

Our first Valentine's Day together, I received a gift. It came from Christopher by way of my first love, Patrick. He, knowing my erstwhile ex would simply let the day go by as if it was just another day, bought me a beautiful sapphire heart necklace, and gave it to Christopher to give to me.

It is still a treasure to me

That's not to say that one must receive gifts to make it a special day. A card, a song, a cup of coffee - all those things say "I love you" just as well as jewelry, a fancy dinner, or a shiny red Mustang in the driveway (although I may have to reconsider the whole Mustang thing.)

This is my second Valentine's Day since he moved out. It's been a roller coaster, to say the least. There are moments when I wonder how I survived, when I remember the weeping, the begging, the shadow of a woman who didn't think she could survive without my husband. And I also remember the people to pointed out my strength, my support system, my reasons to move forward in this crazy endeavor we call life.

Sometimes, it still sucks. But most of the time, I revel in the strength, support and humor I've found over the past two years. (Of course, it doesn't hurt that the woman my ex is waking up next to these days came with four kids and a face only a blind mother could love.)

So today, I choose to celebrate true love, something I wasn't able to find with the man I married, but seem to find in abundance in my "real" life. To those of you who have showered me with love over the last few years, you truly saved my life, and for that I am forever grateful. And I am pleased to report that tonight, I will be dining with my first love, Patrick, the man who taught me how I deserve to be loved.

Lucky for me his partner, Ed, is working tonight.

Smiling today

I awoke to a beam of sunlight poking through the curtain. Blue sky. Sunshine. February doesn't look nearly as dreary today. 

Automotive disarray and personal fraud

So it was a helluva weekend.

I'm home now, after dealing with mechanical hell. I love my car. It's been extraordinarily good to me - never crapped out when I was unemployed, never really causing me any unexpected trips to the mechanic - until now. So I think it's worth it to invest a bit of cash into the old girl. And yes, I've decided she's a girl, named Craig.

See, we don't know what's wrong with her. She won't act up around the people who can fix her. She's just putting up a brave front and not telling anyone what's wrong. It's as if she looks at the guys and says "I'm FINE!" when they try to diagnose the problem. So it'll have to get worse before it gets better, but for the moment, anyway, I'm still driving.

It felt very good to walk into my apartment tonight. I really do love my home, and I miss it when I'm not here.

I was talking to a friend tonight who is having some relationship troubles. She wanted to talk to me because she says I am deep, philosophical, a good listener ... and as she's saying these things, I felt like an incredible fraud. I'm thinking to myself, maybe she just hasn't figured it out. Maybe I've made the right impression and it stuck.

I have that same feeling at work, sometimes. I'll get a challenging assignment and I'll be excited about it, until I really think about it and start to wonder if I'm good enough. Maybe, just maybe, I've pulled the wool over everyone's eyes, but soon they'll discover I'm just a fraud.

I hope that's not true. I hope I am authentically good at being a friend, and good at my job. And I also hope that, some day, I won't feel like such a fraud, and I'll believe all the nice things people have to say.

Enough with the crap, already

So reading the title of this post, you might think I'm talking about the snow. But you'd be wrong. Sure, we've gotten a shitload of the stuff this week, but I'm dealing okay.

Nope, the crap I'm tired if is cancer. It's not enough that it took my mom, most of my grandparents, my other mom, the father-in-law I hardly knew but love anyway. Now it's got my sister in its grip, and it's trying to hold on.

You may recall that my brother is a bone marrow match for my sister, which is all well and good, but lately her numbers are way off. I'm not a doctor, but I do know that when things are out of whack, it ain't good. Well, we found out yesterday that the cancer is pretty aggressive, and in a couple months they will check again and re-evaluate. If Luke (that's what I call the cancer - Luke Emia) hasn't started to behave by then, we'll be looking at chemo, and then a bone marrow transplant.

If that doesn't suck, I don't know what does. First of all, she has gorgeous hair. Second of all, I've seen what chemo can do to a person. It can be pretty ugly. I hope my sister's up to it. And third of all, enough already!!! I realize that if you live long enough, you're bound to get cancer, but this is ridiculous. Jenn's pretty young (45-ish) and super healthy, except for the whole cancer thing.

It just sucks. So if I could ask a favor of you, gentle readers, say a prayer to whomever you believe in, that Jenn would have the strength to get through this with her sense of humor intact, and that her husband might somehow become supportive overnight. And while you're at it, the whole family could use some wisdom and courage. If we're gonna get through this, it's gonna be together.

Dinner

There's something about old friends who show up with pizza and a movie on the night of a nasty snowstorm.

Especially when they leave the leftover pizza.

Life is too short ...

• to scowl when you can smile
  
• to save the sexy underwear for occasions when it might be seen
  
• not to have a theme song. (Mine? "She Will Have Her Way" by Neil Finn)
  
• to get caught up in the stuff you cannot influence
  
• to ever say no to cuddling
  
• to forget where you came from
  
• not to take a detour
  
• to deny wanderlust
  
• or just plain lust
  
• to withhold forgiveness
  
• to try and fit into someone else's mold
  
• not to celebrate every gorgeous moment
  
• to let a little thing like geography keep you from the people you love
  
• to wonder why you're not happy
  
• to keep it to yourself
  
• to spend it without the company of furry critters
• to turn down a dance
• to wish the past had turned out differently
• to eat inferior chocolate
• not to say "I love you" every time you mean it

The back row of a dark theater

I love movies. They make me happy. The only thing better than a movie is a movie with someone I love. 

So last night, Cute Brian came by and we thought maybe we'd catch a couple of flicks. (He described it as a "double-header." I thought that sounded naughty. And btw to Kelly, he has facial hair these days. Seriously dishy.) We were going to se "Juno" and then perhaps "Cloverfield."

There's something about being an adult and choosing to sit in the very back of the movie theater. All the kids think you're up to something. Juno is one of the very best movies ever. It make me laugh, it made me cry, and made me feel all kinds of stuff in between. I loved it. I'd see it again in a heartbeat.

Then we went outside for a smoke break (before you reprimand me, Kelly, it was Brian's smoke break, not mine; I was the charming company) and then got tickets to see "Cloverfield."

I only made it through about 10 minutes of the second feature of the evening. Patrick told me it would make me sick (because evidently it's an artistic decision to create a film that looks like it was shot by a first year blind art student) and he was right. So we abandoned our seats (once again in the back of the theater) and went back to Chez Mags.

Have you ever seen the movie "Skeleton Key?" We watched that on DVD back at my place, and it was really quite unexpected - very good, and not just because it didn't make me nauseous. Plus, there's something about drinking cocoa on the sofa while watching a movie. You'll get no complaints from me.

Thank heaven I'm flexible

So, big weekend planned. I was going up to Lake Geneva for karaoke, and then of course to see the snow sculptures and go tubing.

None of that happened. (Cue the collective "awww..." from readership.)

No, instead my brother chose Friday to stop being able to breathe. Not literally, and not permanently, but my brother Michael was having issues breathing, so Dad took him to the hospital.

For those of you not in the know, Michael is my twin, and he was born with cerebral palsy. Yes, my twin is retarded. Big shock, eh? Not to worry if you feel the need to find the irony or make a joke. I've made them all already. Anyway, a few years ago, Mike was on an outing with a group from his school (which really isn't so much a school as it is a group of other retards) and his chaperone stopped paying attention to him and Mike went down the stairs. The big, concrete stairs at Phillips Park. Which doesn't sound remarkable, except Mike can't walk. 

Ergo, downstairs is a trip he ought not take. Long story short, he pretty much shattered his nose (which wasn't small to begin with) and was seriously banged up for awhile. And that's why he goes to the hospital when he can't breathe right, because A) he can't really explain what's wrong or what he's feeling and B) the doctors worry that a rogue bone chip or something may be hanging around in there and causing problems. 

But not this time. No, it looks like a simple case of respiratory infection and/or pneumonia. (When Dad first told me, he said "walking pneumonia." I about crapped myself.)

So I decided to stay home instead of heading north, and it's probably for the best, although I miss my friends and my karaoke and my snuggling and my winterfest. So I guess it's a good thing I'm flexible, and can roll with the punches, so to speak. It's also a good thing that I have friends around here, too, who keep me out of trouble (or join me in causing it.) It's shaping up to be a spontaneous movie night, complete with cocoa, minty goodness, and Cute Brian. Yes, Kelly, I'll tell him you say hi. 

What I know for sure

• It doesn't matter whose blood runs through your veins; the people who love you unconditionally are family.
  
• A dog's wet nose in the palm of your hand can cure just about anything.
  
• You are never too old to make snow angels, start a snowball fight, or catch snowflakes on your tongue.
  
• Home is where your people are.
  
• A well-stocked pantry equals peace.
  
• Living just a few blocks from a movie theater has its benefits.
  
• You can try to snuggle yourself, but it's not the same.
  
• People who can't keep promise suck big time.
  
• People who don't love animals probably won't click with me.
  
• Marshmallow peeps are yummy in cocoa.
  
• If both of you eat garlic, the kisses are fine.
  
• I've never given birth, but I have lots of kids.
  
• David danced.
  
• Life is too short to be pissy in traffic.
  
• Cozy socks make for cozy Saturday mornings.
  
• Chocolate chip cookies are good for breakfast.
  
• True happiness is a combination of love, laughter, and grilled cheese.
  

Quote of the Day

From a review of the new film Over Her Dead Body:

"Eva Longoria brings a Jennifer Lopez level of suck to the screen."

The weather outside is frightful

And yet it's beautiful. 

I've long believed that if it's gonna be cold, it oughta be snowing, and today I got my wish. We are in the midst of a winter storm the likes of which I haven't seen in quite awhile, and there's no end in sight. I'm safe at home (after my hour and a half drive home, a whopping nine miles!) and just completely enjoying the view from my window three floors above Downtown Arlington Heights.

It may mess up my weekend plans. It may snarl traffic for 24 hours. It may make for treacherous driving, but I don't care. I made an angel, caught snowflakes on my tongue, and wrote a note to my neighbor in the snow on his car. 

So basically, I played in the snow. Life is good.

Haiku

Cold cold cold cold cold
My feet are like icicles
Bring me cocoa, please

Me, reflected in people I love

You know how when you look in a three-way mirror, you never look as good as you thought you did? Maybe it's the lighting, maybe it's the angles, maybe it's you, but it never shows you your good side. It's different, though, when you see yourself reflected in loved ones. This reflection is like the very best fun-house mirror - you're instantly prettier, thinner, and yes even smarter than you were before you gazed upon that reflection.

This weekend, I was fortunate to spend time with four amazing women - Di, Kelly, Aubri and Amber. These past two days were just what I needed - a gentle wake-up call to be good to myself.

While I was at Di's, we looked through some of the new clothing in the line she sells. I shunned the notion that any of the pieces belonged in my wardrobe, and as I heard myself talking, I realized the sad truth. It's hard to hear yourself say that you don't deserve beautiful things. And let's face it, I didn't wake up today with a whole new set of beliefs, but at least I'm aware. And I've got my eye on this amazing brown jacket.

Then Kelly and Aubri arrived, because we were spending the night at "High School Musical on Ice." (Incidentally, I was pleasantly surprised at the wonderful production, and I'm planning to see the professional bullriders at the same venue in April. The bulls, incidentally, will not be skating.) Aubri remembered helping me move into my apartment, and at that time it was all blank walls and boxes and hope. She told me several times while she was here that she likes my home, and coming from a 13-year-old girl, that really meant something. The three of us had a great time, including bop bop bopping to the top, laughing over 10 p.m. breakfast at iHop, and being treated to breakfast in bed. (Aubri makes a mean eggs Benedict. And by "eggs Benedict" I mean "Pop Tart.")

And then today, Amber came over to watch a movie and chill with some girl time. We took a walk around downtown and I got to show her some of my favorite spots. We talked, watched a movie that still has me thinking (have you ever seen "Frailty"?) and had dinner fresh from my crock pot. I love that she will drive 45 minutes to hang out with me.

All these people, all these experiences, bring me to the realization that I am loved, by these four woman and by a solid handful of others living near and far. And if they love me, maybe it's time I start doing a little better job of that myself. Maybe it's time to believe that I deserve the happiness, love and hope that I once thought I had.

Ya gotta have friends

It happened quite by accident. On Christmas Eve, my friend Di and I had breakfast together. We share a meal together every year on Christmas Eve - it's a deal we made back when we were in college, and I think we've only missed one year in all this time. Anyway, that day she and I pencilled each other in for some quality time today, January 26. So off to Di's I drove after I got up and around this morning.

For Christmas, my gift to my niece Aubri was tickets to High School Musical on Ice. The tickets are for tonight.

So basically, I spent the morning and afternoon with Di, and I will spend tonight with Kelly and Aubri. It's hard to imagine that, just a scant two years ago, I was living in fear that I would spend the rest of my life alone, and that I would wither and die in my apartment, and no one would find me until I started to leave a not-so-savory aroma.

Clearly, this has not happened. Di and I sat on the sofa, joked and laughed. I made each of her children cry within about 15 minutes of walking in the door (obviously, I have a way with kids. And it wasn't my fault!) I was hugged and tickled and loved and just filled to overflowing with the good feelings that can only come from being with people who love you, just as you are. (It doesn't hurt that Justin, Di's husband and certified hunkadoodledoo, thinks my ex is kind of a loser.)

As if that weren't enough, tomorrow Amber is going to come over and we're gonna sit and watch movies and have dinner and just enjoy each other's company. I can't help but revel in the perfect 20/20 vision of hindsight, because now I live alone, but I have more love in my life than ever. It's sad that sometime the people who are supposed to love us the most can't manage to do that. But I think it would be even sadder if we never had the chance to realize how much love was out there, waiting for us, if only we would open ourselves up to it.

Have you hugged your elk today?

It really is the little things that make the biggest impact in life. My life, anyway. I was thinking about that on my way to work today, because it was pretty. Cold, but pretty. Single-digit temperatures are here once again, but the world has a fresh coat of snow and that just tickles me.

My drive to work is really beautiful - I pass some truly gorgeous scenery, most notably Busse Woods. With the snow on the ground and the blue sky and the trees, the drive past Busse Woods is breathtaking.

Busse Woods runs between Elk Grove Village and Schaumburg (home of Cute Brian.) Who knew there were actual ELK in Elk Grove Village? Not me! So imagine my delight when I realized I was driving past these magestic critters every day! They hang out at the Busse Woods in the Elk Pasture, and I wave to them every day.

There's just something about seeing a bunch of elk (hey, what do you call a group of elk? A gaggle? A gang? A warren? A herd?) getting together for breakfast in the chill of winter. Just beautiful ... and another thing to love about winter. This season is growing on me, I tell ya! Even the chill in the air can't take away my appreciation of the beauty.

The only thing that could possibly make it better is if I could actually hug the elk. But alas ... fence.

For the record ...

... the chicken and dumplings were delish. I'm looking forward to having more for dinner. But it's entirely possible they were not as good as pushgetti.

Smiling

Today, it's easy to smile. The sun is shining, the snow is beautiful, there is no negative wind-chill ... life is good.

The view from my office window. The building across the street is the Market Day distribution center. Makes me hunger for packaged food.

So why else am I smiling? That's easy:

Spring is two months away. Just around the corner, the thermometer starts going in the good direction. Soon, the Cubs will begin spring training and mittens will become a distant memory.

There will be chicken and dumplings in the crockpot when I get home. Two of my favorite things left behind when Christopher left (other than, well, ME) are the crockpot and the recipe for chicken and dumplings. I can hardly wait to get home.

My boots are both warm and cute. Warm is necessary; cute is a bonus.

In a few weeks, I get to play in the snow with some of my favorite people. I'm going tubing!

Craig runs! That's my car's name, and he sounds so happy when I start the ignition. This morning, I got to hear him growl in four-wheel drive, as if he was saying, "Hey, you in the minivan! Get out of my way!"

So what's making you smile today?

Poverty and optimism in the life of your friend Margaret

So Frank called a little while ago. Frank's the guy who runs the shop where Craig, the Jeep, is being repaired.

Everyone, let's wave goodbye to my money.

Bye bye, money ... I will miss you.

Frank and the boys will be replacing my leaky water pump and leaky radiator (because when it rains it pours) and replacing some hoses and cleaning some stuff and oh, by the way, why not change the oil while the car is there. Thanks, that's great.

$800-ish later, I will have a car that runs. Ouch, you might say, but not me. No, I'm just happy that I have the money to have it fixed. A little over a year ago, I wouldn't have been able to. So instead of crying because I'm poor, I'm going to be happy that I can scrape together the money to pay for it. Sure, I'll be eating Ramen for the next two weeks, but what the hell ... it's only money, right?

And really, money is only good for the things it allows us to have - food, shelter, clothing (yes, Kelly, we do need clothing,) transportation and a little entertainment along the way.

Better day today

I remembered my coffee, the car did not overheat, and I get to leave at noon to attend our company post-Christmas celebration. (Oh, and I look very cute today.) Tomorrow morning I drop the car off to find out and hopefully fix what's wrong. Fingers crossed, my friends!

A rare yet sucky day in Maggie's World

I should feel lucky. After all, I'm still somewhat fresh from a terrific vacation. I have a job that I truly enjoy. I have friends who add a great deal of happiness to my life.

But right now, I really need someone to cut me a break.

I've been having car issues. I love my car, he has never let me down before, but lately he's been a little hot and bothered. And everytime the "check gauges" light comes on, it's like a huge shot of adrenaline straight to my heart. I cannot afford major repairs. Hell, I can't afford minor repairs until Thursday, which is payday.

For the past two days, on my way to work, it has overheated. We thought we'd solved this problem with a new thermostat back in November, but no such luck. Dammit. So I pull over, put in anti-freeze, and continue on my merry way. It just HAS to hold out until Thursday.

But it's not only that. This morning, I made coffee. And proceeded to leave it in my kitchen. I've had a headache for about 24 hours, and lack of caffeine really isn't helping. And I'm dizzy. When I got out of bed this morning, I almost took a header into the window.

This is just not shaping up to be a great day.

On the up side, I look really cute.

A haiku for a Friday

My brother's haikus
leave something to be desired.
He hides on his blog.

Evaluation

I was reprimanded by Kelly today because I hadn't updated the blog in a couple of days. I was actually waiting until I was ready to blog the vacation, but since Miss Impatient Pants can't wait, here goes.

Remember 2006? That was the year I spent jobless. Well, not technically - I had a part-time gig that paid some of the bills, but it was a rough, hard year. My husband stopped wanting to be my husband, my career was a distant memory, and I was lost.

In January of 2007, I began the job I now enjoy, as a writer with an undisclosed company. (Yes, the name is bold, lower case. Usually in Helvetica Neue.) I've been hear a year and three days, and I still love my job. And the best part? They love me, too.

Yesterday, I had my evaluation. I got a raise, which is always nice, but the best part to me was reading the comments my manager wrote. Here's a sampling:

• Maggie picked up the direct selling writing style more quickly than any other writer I have worked with. She isn't afraid to ask questions and request resources as needed.
• She is willing to do whatever it takes to finish an assignment on time.
• Maggie is diligent in making sure that her copy is accurate, and she consistently proofreads to double-check her work.
• Maggie takes great pride in her writing, and that shines through in her work. She consistently writes copy of very high quality that fits the audience and meets the objectives of the project.
• She easily puts herself into the shoes of our Advisors and anticipates their needs. The copy for our monthly newesletters gets better with each passing month.

Isn't that wonderful? I love my work, I love the people I work with, I love feeling appreciated ... but most of all, I love being employed!

Back home

Landed at O'Hare at around 10 last night, but didn't get home until 1:30-ish ... to bed around 2.

It's good to be home. Sometimes I think the best part of vacation is coming home.

But to be honest, the best part of my vacation had nothing to do with coming home or Mickey Mouse or awesome rides or that amazing filet at Le Cellier. The best part of vacation, for me, was the last night in Disney World.

It was late, and we were full of big, juicy steaks and delectable desserts, so we all (me, Dad, Alex and Kathie) sort of hung out in Dad's room, not quite ready to let go of the magic yet. One by one, we retreated to our own space, but I lingered at Dad's a bit.

See, my relationship with my sisters (most of the time, anyway) is tenuous at best. And my relationship with Kathie is especially difficult. If you're reading this, you know that I can be a bit of a diva - I sometimes primp before buying groceries, my cosmetics are few but the good stuff, and don't even THINK about talking to me before I've had my first cup of coffee for the day. But if I'm a diva, Kath is a princess. Her jeans have perfect creases. Even in Disney World. And I'm as much a hippy as I am a diva, which doesn't really mix well with princess. So I spent a lot of time walking on eggshells so as not to upset Princess Kathryn's routine.

And by late Saturday night, I was at the end of my rapidly swinging rope. And my dad and I sat up and talked and talked and talked about it, into the wee hours of the morning.

Which brought me to the conclusion that my sister Kathie, much like my mother before her, loves me, but doesn't like me very much. She doesn't "get" me, and she probably never will. But my dad? Well, Dad has an inimitable way of understanding me even when I don't make any sense to him. He has always described me as his free spirit, and he (unlike anyone else in my family) seems to enjoy that.

So we talked. And talked. And talked some more, until we were just completely pooped and went our separate ways for our final night in the happiest place on earth.

There is no one on earth like my father. He is at once generous, loving, understanding, kind, funny, encouraging and wise. I am so glad I had the opportunity to share the past week with him.

There's a lot more to tell, but I haven't even begun to plow through the photos yet, so you'll have to be patient. I will post the highlights as soon as I have a chance. But for the moment, you can buy me a cocktail for bringing some of the warm weather home with me!

Dogs are barking

After five days, my feet seriously hurt. Ouch.

A day in the wild

It's a little warmer today, in the mid-50's. Saw some great shows, ate some great food (which is fast becoming a theme)

Unseasonably cold

It's 40 degrees in Orlando ... but at least it's sunny. Having a blast, riding great rides, eating great food, enjoying

New Year's Day, Disney-style

I'm here. It's beautiful. I wore sandals today. And trite as it sounds, I wish you were here.

Still life

Tonight, New Year's Eve 2007, I am sleeping in the room I slept in growing up. It's now my dad's office, but my feet look right at home.

525,600 minutes

How do you measure a year?

Like the song says (and you know this if you know the musical "Rent") there are 525,600 minutes in a year. But we all tend to measure time in different ways, at different times.

Looking back at 2007, I think I will measure it by ...

Hugs
Water fights
Curtain calls
Cinammon rolls
Tears
Snowstorms
Unexpected kisses
Movies
Naps
Get-ups
Belly laughs
Pedicures
Bruises
Connections
Tamales
Coffee
Ninjas
Successes
Failures
Arguments
Miunderstandings
Opportunities
Ninth-grade nights

No doubt there are more, units of measure I can't recall now. But as I sit here, looking out at the possibilities of 2008, I am hopeful and a little bit scared. And yet, that's not gonna stop me from plunging headlong into what may be. 2007 was good to me, and I hope it was to you, too. So raise a glass, or a coffee cup, or a chocolate chip muffin, and together let's bid 2007 adieu as we welcome 2008 and everything it has to offer.

May we look back in 527,040 minutes (2008's a leap year) in gratitude for one another, joy for having shared another year together, and anticipation of what comes next. Salud!

One more get-up

That's all that's left - one more get-up. One more time the alarm will ring before I head for Disney World. Granted, I don't leave until Tuesday, but there's only one ore day when I have to be somewhere on schedule, one more time I have to march to the beat of someone else's drummer.

Then, I'm in vacation mode. For 12 blissful days. Vacation mode.

It's a little scary, because it means a full week with people with whom I share DNA, and these people are really quite wacky. But I will rise to the occasion, I will not let them get to me, and I will have fun. How could I not have fun - I'll be in the happiest place on earth!

Christmas Wishes

It's Christmas. Today was full of memories, old and new. I can't remember the last time I was awake at dawn surrounded by children eagerly anticipating the discovery of what Santa left for them. Along with celebrating with the kids, and acting like one myself, I enjoyed lots of hugs, cinammon rolls, my favorite cookies that I haven't had since Mom died (one of my sisters found the recipe) and a feud-free holiday.

And so, in keeping with the joy of the day, I thought I would share with you my Christmas wishes.

May you know that you are loved, that your friendship brightens my days and makes me smile. May you grow to love me more and love me, anyway, as I am sure to grow in love for you.

May I be a blessing to your life, and may you know you are a blessing in mine.

May you be fulfilled in your work, in your relationships, and in life.

May optimism outweigh pessimism. May laughter outweigh tears. May you find beatiful shoes on sale, in your size.

But most of all, may hugs be abundant, kisses be meaningful, support be felt, imagination be nourished, your soul be fed and your heart be full.

Merry Christmas. May the hope of this season live within you throughout the coming year.

What you give

Kelly and I went shopping today. At Woodfield Mall in Schaumburg. It was not an original idea. Everyone else in the Chicago suburbs seemed to have the same idea.

It was so crazy, I didn't bother to try and find a parking place. I valeted it. Yes, I turned my keys over to a stranger. It was worth the $6 plus tip.

We ate at Cheesecake Factory (sheer ambrosia, lemme tell ya) and ventured out into the mall. And everywhere we went, I felt like Kelly and I were somehow able to bring joy to an otherwise stressful night in retail. Employees and fellow shoppers alike responded to us. The guy shopping in Eddie Bauer let me touch his hair. The girl in Hot Topic could not believe that I asked her how she was doing. And the entire staff of The Body Shop seemed unwilling to let us shop elsewhere.

And it occurred to me, it costs us nothing to relate to one another. To look each other in the eye. To smile instead of scowl. And at the end of the night, aching bodies and all, we felt like we had gotten something other than bags of gifts. We got back every smile, every happy greeting, every laid-back moment we gave. It was magical.

Really. Just ask the valet. I think he liked being both tipped AND hugged.

A Holiday Haiku

Christmas almost here
but rain is in the forecast
No white Chrismas. Poop.