You Can't Always Get What You Want, But...

Quoting the Rolling Stones:

You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need

A few blogs ago I wrote about my friend Kathy, my niece Gracie and my Molly, three very special loves in my life that were born on November 21.

Kathy as usual posted a comment. As much as she looks forward to my blog, I look forward to her words of love and support on a daily basis too. And though Gracie's not old enough to be interested in my blog, I know someday she will be, and more, she will love reading what her mother had to say, since Gracie's mom, my cousin Chrissy, thanked me for writing about her daughter and has commented on many of my blogs.

The comment on that blog that I most wanted to reply to was Kathy's sister, Irene, and I didn't want to just reply as a comment. First I love so much that Irene is reading my blog. I met Kathy in freshman year of high school and though she switched after 2 years, she couldn't stand the "Catholic school atmosphere", we remained friends. I probably met Irene when I was a freshman, I was still living in Brooklyn at the time, as did Kathy's family, and I was at Kathy's house many times as she was at mine, we got to know each others' families well. Irene is Kathy's younger sister and she eventually joined me at Saint John Villa Academy in Staten Island so I got to know her even better.

One thing Irene said was remember the library. I don't!!! Irene (or Kathy) will have to remind me. I love when some one does that! I'm like, yeah, oh yeah, I remember now. Can't wait to be reminded!

Irene also said it was so nice to hear stories of her sister, her big sister, who probably drove her crazy at times while at the same time being her best friend. I'm blessed with 2 sisters and we had the same relationship growing up and now we're older and the same, best friends and drive each other crazy at the same time. But a bind that can't be broken. We don't live close by to each other now, and it's hard, we miss each other. Kathy just recently moved to Florida, Irene is still up here, but no matter how far, you can't cut those ties when you have a good sister (or 2).

I was blessed with 2 younger sisters, also 3 older brothers and 1 younger brother. The one thing that I didn't have was a big sister. When Irene commented it just reminded me again how I was blessed with the big sister I always wanted from the least likely person.

I've blogged about how my older brother Michael would drive me crazy as a kid, tease me all the time, but Michael also had the biggest heart, when he loved, he loved deeply and when he met a girl named Debbie he fell in love right away, told my mom he had met the girl he would marry, and he did.

I loved Debbie right away, my whole family did. Now I had a little sister named Debbie and a big sister named Debbie! Got confusing at times, still does, I think my Aunt Libby still refers to my younger sister Debbie as "Little Debbie". Nicknames! That's a blog in itself!

When Michael met Debbie I was about 16. My youngest brother and sister both grew up with Debbie in their lives, so young when they first met, I don't think either of them can remember a time when Debbie wasn't in our lives.

(Little sister Debbie, big sister Debbie, Michael, Linda and Joey at Great Adventure)

Debbie brought me closer to Michael, he was always super loving when he was not busting on me, but especially when they were dating, Debbie could get Michael to do pretty much anything for her, including not teasing me! Sunday dinners at my parents' home was a regular thing. Debbie loved my mom, hanging with her, she knew she hit gold with a mother-in-law like my mom and my mom felt the same way about her daughter-in-law. Debbie's family became our family, her sister especially, Malea and her husband Pete and their kids were at our Sunday dinners so many times.

Debbie is only two years older than me, but you know how at certain times two years can make such a big difference. At 16 I needed a big sister, it was nice having Debbie around, she looked out for me. I had a big sister I could confide in, ask questions that are just easier sharing with a big sister. And if there is one person in this world that really knows me and can call me out when I'm wrong, immature, whatever, it's Debbie. Not only that, I can face it with her because she's not judging me, she wont carry a grudge. And when I'm stubborn (unfortunately a Gillen trait) Debbie makes me face it and deal with it. My brother Joey quotes a lot of things Debbie taught him, again he was so young when they met and though she may not realize it, he looked up to her, paid attention to her, loved her and of course still does and lots of times when Joey and I are talking about a problem or certain situation he'll quote a "Debbie-ism" and I'm like, yup, she's right again.


(Debbie and Joey)

I spent even more time with Michael because of Debbie and when Irene was born, fuhgettaboutit, Irene was the star of the family, the first grandchild on our side of the family, my first niece, the second most beautiful gift my brother Michael gave to me. (Debbie, Irene and me)
I lived a few blocks away from Debbie and Michael when Irene was born, and Irene, so perfect and beautiful, was unfortunately a colicky baby for months! It was hard on Debbie, and I would always go over to just be with Irene and also giving Debbie a break. I remember one time Debbie just wanted to take a shower by herself, 20 minutes of peace, a rare and simple pleasure that moms don't get when they have babies around, Irene was maybe about 18 months old. Debbie snuck away while I was playing with Irene and had about 60 seconds of privacy. Irene heard the shower, got naked in seconds and was crying and pounding at the bathroom door the whole time Debbie was taking her "relaxing" shower.

When my mom got sick, she was really the big sister I needed, even though I was in my late 20s at the time, as hard as it was for me, I'd be worse off if I didn't have my big sister at that time and after that. She's been there for me at my best times and my darkest, just there for me.

Maybe a story for another day, maybe not, but my brother Michael died in 1988, just 33 years old, it was a bad time for all of my family and of course most of all his daughter who would never get to know her father.

Debbie remarried and though she has a new husband, Jim, she's still our family as is her husband, now my brother in law, their child, Irene's younger brother Jason, is my nephew. Again I'm so blessed, my family just grew bigger instead of falling apart. I credit my big sister for that. Gillens are a stubborn breed, some more than others, but it runs through us all. Funny my mom was not, my big sister Debbie is not, but my older brothers, my sisters, me, we are, as is Michael and Debbie's Irene, she's a Gillen in so many ways and she'll tell you flat out when she's being "Gillenish".

Debbie called me this morning (big sister Debbie). We don't get to talk a lot but try to have early morning calls as she's driving to work and I'm home having my morning coffee. We also went out to dinner, just the two of us a couple of weeks ago and it was great. But this morning when Debbie called it was like getting one of those answers I blogged about. I said I pray for things or situations and most of those prayers don't happen, but when I ask a question, to God, the cosmos, the universe, I always get an answer. Debbie called this morning when I really needed to talk. She's always been my rock and I know no matter what I do, she will always be there for me, my big sister.

The Rolling Stones sang you can't always, which means you can some times. I'm the some times you can . I got what I wanted and needed.

It's A Doris Day!

Oh what a Day!!!!

This morning I jumped up and ran to my computer after hearing it announced on The View that Doris Day is back in the news again, that Doris Day is coming out with a new CD at 87 years young! I'm elated!

America's sweetheart for so many years who starred in all those corny movies I absolutely LOVE. Movies about the perfect life, the perfect man and of course the musicals. Doris is one of the greatest singers, I would love to turn on the radio and hear her sing like we do with Frank Sinatra songs.

She was a great actress as well. Mostly remembered for her musicals and more her movies with Rock Hudson, but watch Doris play Ruth Etting in the biographical film Love me or Leave Me, also starring James Cagney. More, LISTEN to Doris sing in that film, listen to Doris sing any song.

We all know Que Sera Sera, well I hope we all do...I kinda think anyone who keeps coming back to my blog has to be the kind of person who knows Que Sera Sera. I know my niece Irene knew it from so young, I've sang it to all of my nieces and nephews when they were babies. Of course they all know Abba Dabba Honeymoon which Debbie Reynolds sang in the movie Two Weeks With Love and now I have made famous with my nieces and nephews. I hope they sing these songs to their children. Just pure, sweet music.

But back to this wonderful Doris Day...

God rest her soul but when Elizabeth Taylor died, all the newspapers said the last of the Hollywood legends had passed. I know Elizabeth Taylor was a star, was beautiful, etc. But Doris Day!? Doris Day is one of the classiest Hollywood legends in my book. I am so excited that young people will hear her music, might try to copy her style, give her the recognition she so deserves in music.

And as much as I grew up loving Doris Day's movies and music and her TV shows, when I really grew up I learned what this one woman has done for animals, being their voice, teaching us all that we can make a difference. She has made a big difference behind the scenes, she's never looked for a pat on the shoulder, she just helps animals because she loves them, her heart is pure, she is as goody two shoes as she played in the movies, for real! Even her name sounds happy. And she didn't have an easy life and unfortunately has now outlived her only child, her son, her friend. Doris Day is a legend in her own time and again I wish so much that her music becomes something we hear when we switch on our radio or a song choice from an American Idol contestant. I have lots of Doris Day music on my computer and ipod and am so excited to be adding something new from this superb, supreme, sublime, consummate singer.

This is also a perfect time to tell one of my Doris Day stories. No, never met her when I roamed the halls while working at RKO Radio Networks or WOR-AM in New York but one of my friends, Pat, resembles Doris very much, especially when she was younger, she was a little chubbier then and her face was shaped like Doris's, even had that same haircut and would bite and lick her lips like I've seen Doris do herself in movies. I wasn't the only one who told her she looked like her but it wasn't an everyday thing as Doris Day hasn't been in the news for years, in my 20s I was one of the few who appreciated that kind of music, I doubt many of my friends knew who Doris Day was, just not known as she should have been and again as I hope will be. But one night Pat and a bunch of my others friends and I were at a bar in Jersey that had a band. I talked to the singer during a break and set up a joke on Pat, which was one of my most favorite pastimes. Pat could take a joke like no other, and she would laugh and laugh which would make my pranks and jokes even better.



The band did a song or two and then the lead singer looked into the audience, blocking the lighting from his eyes and said that he thought that Doris Day was actually in the audience. Pat, knowing me but being Pat and falling again for one of my pranks, turns to me with the biggest smile, so excited, saying, Tricia, can you believe it, he thinks I'm Doris Day! I am busting trying not to laugh but telling her, yup, just like I've been telling you, you look like her, yes indeed you do! She even starts telling everyone she meets or greets that night, that her friend Tricia has been telling her and others too that she looked like Doris Day, but here was the band announcing it out loud. I let her have a moment, making mine even better when I would tell her I set the whole thing up. Can't watch a Doris Day movie without a chuckle or two busting out of me thinking of the funny times with Pat.

But today? Hooray, hooray for Doris Day!! 87 years old and still helping animals and now a new CD. She's more than a Hollywood legend, she's a legend for all time and for all people.

Enjoy this happy Doris Day!



(Reuters) - At age 87, Doris Day is not exactly pop music's latest hot young artist. But this week the star of film, TV and music returns to the U.S. record world she conquered more than 60 years ago with a new album, "My Heart."

The CD, which hits record stores and websites December 2, is filled with old standards like "My Buddy," previously unreleased tunes such as "Stewball," about a race horse Day loved, and pop hits of the 1960s and '70s such as "Daydream" and "You Are So Beautiful."

"I like the music when I was working and singing," she told Reuters. "I think the writers were so incredibly brilliant, and when you sang a song of theirs that you loved, it really meant something. And love songs, I love love songs."

For the most part, she has stayed away from entertainment circles for more than 20 years since accepting a lifetime achievement honor from Golden Globe organizers in 1989.

Day recorded and released the songs for "My Heart" because she wanted to help animals -- sales proceeds go to her animal foundation -- and she dedicated the song "My Buddy" to her son, the late record producer and songwriter Terry Melcher, who died in 2004 after battling melanoma.

"He really was my buddy," Day said of her son. "I wanted that song to be there because it was for him and, well, all I can say is that I miss him very much."

Love = Magic

It's been a nice long weekend for so many of us. My favorite holiday, Thanksgiving Day, a four day weekend and though I might be heading back to work today, the magic of this past weekend will keep me going for some time.

I remember after my surprise 40th birthday party. After I got home I took my Molly for a walk, I remember realizing that I had the biggest smile on my face and I just couldn't stop smiling. Pure magic! All my family and friends created a birthday that was so special, so filled with love that it was just magical.

This weekend was like that, especially for the kids.

I think this is the first Thanksgiving ever that I was not sitting in traffic at all. I could not believe it! We left Staten Island at 10am and the entire ride up was just clear sailing. I drove and instead of listening to the music the kids prefer (most of which I do not) Joey read a book to us. Joey is reading, well he finished reading The Zero Game by Brad Meltzer and was enjoying it so much had been telling the kids about it and eventually they just wanted to hear the story as he was reading it. It's an adult mystery but they got the gist of the story and Joey would remind them about things as he was reading. I had read the book and suggested it to Joey, loving that he loved it, and now loving that his love of something I suggested led to his kids loving it. Could there be a thing as too much love? I don't think so. For me it just keeps on coming, sometimes from people or things that surprise me.

My sister Linda and her husband Bob hosted a great dinner, all our favorite food and desserts and if you wanted to see the kids you had to go and find them, they just were off and running the second they got together. That's one of my most favorite sights, looking at all my nieces and nephews hanging out together, again I love watching them love each other. Reminds me how blessed I am, how I grew up like them, with cousins that were my friends, family. That's why Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday too, it's all about family, no matter what "family" means to each of us.

We spent Friday morning/early afternoon upstate and then headed back down to the city as the girls (Ashley and Bella) were going to go to my niece Gracie's birthday party and the boys (Shane, Robert, Jojo and Luke) were going to do something, they didn't know what, but anything was great because they would be together.

They ended up going to Wagner College here on Staten Island for a basketball game, something my brother remembers doing with my parents when he was a kid, something he loved very much. You can't beat the spirit of a college game (high school and CYO, etc. too). That spirit, community, it just makes you feel at home. Now he's sharing that with his kids. Love. Magic!

On Saturday the girls, not only the little girls, a bunch of the "girls" in my family went into the city to see Mary Poppins on Broadway! The girls were my Aunt Libby, sister Debbie, cousin Chrissy and my nieces, Irene, Ashley, Gracie and Bella. And this was Bella's first Broadway show. She had been hemming and hawing about going for a number of reasons but had finally decided a few days before that yes she would go and yes she was very much looking forward to going. Like me I don't think she knew what she was in for. My first Broadway show was Irene starring my most favorite movie star Debbie Reynolds but even putting aside the fact that my favorite movie star was right in front of me, I could not believe what Broadway was like, outside in the streets and then inside the theatre. MAGIC. All my life all I ever wanted to do was go to Hollywood, which I did in my early 20s. I was disappointed, nothing like my dreams. But New York City, my own backyard, now that's something to see, something to show your kids, even if you can't afford tickets to a Broadway show, just go to the city during the holiday season. It won't matter even if it's cold, you will walk around in wonder and forget about being cold, broke or sad, there's so much to see. The best sight is watching the children seeing the sights, there's the real beauty, there's the magic, there's the love, you can feel it in the air you can see it. Love. Magic.

Aunt Libby bought the little girls Mary Poppins T-shirts that say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Bella asked me how to say the word again on Sunday and it reminded me how I tried to say it after I saw the movie and being so impressed that my older brothers could say it. I would practice and practice until I could say it. I was about 6 when I saw the movie and when I walked out of that theater I was looking up in the clouds for Mary Poppins, I believed she was real, that magic was real. I even got a Mary Poppins doll, I remembered just now, as I'm writing, which probably didn't last very long in my house, but I'm so happy that my nieces experienced the magical feeling of Mary Poppins up close like that, even my oldest niece Irene. I know she watched her younger cousins' faces, I know she remembered being their age and feeling what they were feeling. And then they went to the American Girl doll store for dinner.

I didn't get to see Gracie and Irene this weekend, but I did see Ashley and Bella and nothing could wipe the smiles off their faces. Even when my sister Debbie and her family were leaving to head back home to New Hampshire, there were no tears which there always are, the kids don't like saying goodbye. But this time they all said goodbye so easily, so happy and full of love, magic, that they just didn't want or need anything else.

And me? Well, I had a weekend off of helping out with the kids for my brother. I got two good naps in!!! And one night sat in a hot tub, drinking wine in the moonlight with a special man in my life.

The weekend could not have ended more perfect. I attended late mass with Bella. We never go to the late mass. It's best to go in the morning or late Saturday afternoon as there is just so much sports during the weekends, which is why I help my brother out with his kids. But during the mass I whispered to Bella that I really was enjoying the mass because of the music and Bella agreed. The singers make you get goose bumps all over, they have the most beautiful voices, so pure and they give their gift to us every Sunday (for free).

The mass itself was also great. It's funny, not funny ha ha, but funny strange, weird. Sometimes I feel like the priest is reading my mind and answering my questions. I'm not super religious, no holy roller here, but I believe in God and though I've prayed for lots of things I've needed and wanted and didn't get, there have been too many times to tell you that I get an answer, not only in church, but from a family member or friend, from a stranger or an enemy, because of a situation or just something, but I get an answer. There's some changes coming in my life, not sure of what will be, where I'll be, what tomorrow will bring. I'm fine, I'm healthy, it's just life brings changes everyday, I just happen to have quite a few going on at one time. Funny, but that's exactly what the sermon was about on Sunday. I was where I was suppose to be. I am where I'm supposed to be. Whatever tomorrow will bring.

I used to go to church every Sunday when I attended Catholic school and after that it became just holidays, then every once in a while and then I stopped going. I take Bella for a number of different reasons but the main one is because I love her and though it's not so easy to get her out of the house and to church, once we are there she's getting something out of it, I can tell. It's also "our" time every Sunday and I know it is special for her now but will be even more so when she grows up and remembers this time.

So whatever change or changes are coming in my life I know one thing, I have love, so much love, and love really does equal magic.

Hoppie Thanksgiving!

Hoppie? Did you think I misspelled happy?

Nope.

I meant Hoppie Thanksgiving.

In my family we say "hoppie" and it's because my Uncle Richie L. said it really funny one time and we were all teasing him (behind his back of course).

The Uncle Richie I'm talking about is my mom's younger brother as opposed to my other Uncle Richie, my Aunt Libby's husband, and Aunt Libby is my mom's sister and of course Uncle Richie L's sister. Okay. Got that?

So, this Uncle Richie says it funny one time and me and my cousins are all laughing about it and imitating him and you could so tell that Aunt Libby wanted to laugh too but she was being a good sister. My mom had already passed away by this time, and she would have laughed too but would have been just like Aunt Libby was. Saying stop and that little grin just busting to get bigger.

We had also had a field day when he said the word "bequeath" on camera at my cousin Artie's wedding when he was toasting the bride (Theresa) and groom. We rewound that 2 seconds of video so many times we finally got Aunt Libby to laugh, she just couldn't help herself, just like us. I know it's probably one of those things "you have to be there", but I would bet that pretty much everyone out there has a family member who you love or don't love (and we happen to love Uncle Richie L very much) but again, I would bet you have a family member that says something silly, funny, weird or does something silly, funny, gross, whatever and you laugh behind their backs. Well that's "hoppie" for my family. In a couple of hours I'll be heading upstate to my sister's for Thanksgiving Day, my most favorite holiday, and we will all greet each other with "Hoppie Thanksgiving". We also use it as much as we can, Hoppie Birthday, Hoppie Christmas, Hoppie New Year, etc, etc, etc.

Hoppie Thanksgiving all!

Nature magically suits a man to his fortunes, by making them the fruit of his character.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

So Simple

I was up very late last night, watching sappy Christmas movies on Lifetime. I can't get enough of them and they always make me cry but I just can't turn them off and go to bed even though most of them I've seen quite a few times. Lifetime runs a bunch of them every night until Christmas and every year I look forward to that as much as when my local radio station starts playing nothing but Christmas music. Both fill me with so much happiness, no matter what's going on in my life or even when I'm having a bad day, they calm me, they really physically change me. So simple.

My most favorite holiday film is "It's a Wonderful Life" and second to that is "White Christmas", classics and part of my life for as long as I can remember. I know there have to be tons of people that love "The Christmas Story", though it's not one of my favorites at all. And my sister Linda and I were just talking about the fact that they run that movie 24 hours on Christmas day and we just don't get it? With all the movies made over the years, the classics, the greats, the "B" movies, the sappy, silly, mystical, magical movies of Christmas, and they run this movie all day? Linda said she remembers on Christmas Eve watching "Scrooge" all night, but even then, so long ago, they were all different versions of the movie made over the years and we enjoyed every one. Simply wonderful!

If you're from my generation, you will remember growing up watching "The Waltons", a television show which was one of my favorites and maybe you know too about the movie that came out before the show, "The Homecoming: A Christmas Story". Patricia Neal was the mom in the movie but John Boy was Richard Thomas as he was in the TV series. The movie is so beautiful and it's hardly ever on, another great holiday film. Stop playing "The Christmas Story all day, there's so many great movies to watch, share with your family. All rated "G". Is it simply easier to just run that movie all day? I don't get it?

Another great one, which was a "made for TV movie" is "The House Without a Christmas Tree" starring Jason Robards. It's about a little girl who just wants a Christmas Tree and her father (Jason Robards) is a widow and he doesn't want to celebrate Christmas because he doesn't want think about his wife, he's bitter and sad but of course the movie has a happy ending, I cry and feel all mushy inside.

My sister Linda got "The Christmas That Almost Wasn't" last year during our family Christmas Party. We loved that movie growing up and we saw it in the theater not on TV. It was so magical and so simple at the same time. I remember looking forward to it coming out every year and we'd go to the movies and watch it a few times in a row. The kids didn't dig it, were not interested at all, Linda and I were crushed! Not really, but we were hoping they would love the movie as much as we did. But they don't want simple. I hope simple doesn't go away, I need simple in my life sometimes, even though I enjoy lots of the more fancy and elaborate things and ways of life I still need simple. Do you know what I mean?

The opposite of simple is difficult. Doesn't simple sound so much better than that!?

I love simple. Lots of different definitions for simple. You could call me a simple woman and I'd take that as a compliment, where others may be offended. To me simple is innocent, modest, not limited, easy to understand. Just simple right?

These holiday movies I'm drawn to into the wee hours of the morn and the music on the radio are simple pleasures in my life that I know I'll never lose, maybe that gives me a secured feeling, I don't know, again they physically alter me. So simple.

11/21, A Very Good Day

It's funny but today, 11/21, is a very special day for me because three special souls were born this day, different years. It may not be my birthday but I celebrate that I am three times blessed on this date.

The first one to enter my life was Kathy. Happy Birthday my friend! When I think of you I still see that 14 year old face. The face that showed so much attitude with any bs, the plastic people, never trying to be anyone but yourself. The face that showed loved, kindness, humor, compassion.

Kathy and I met our first day of freshman year in high school. We sat together in home room as my last name starts with a "G" and Kathy's an "H" (well her maiden name, it's been a long time, now she's the Kathy M. who leaves me so many wonderful, loving, encouraging words in her comments to my blog, she gives me tremendous confidence to keep writing. When I read her words, I can almost hear her cheering me on).

Kathy, like me, was not a hippie, but we were so not the dress up disco girls of that era. We wore earth shoes, construction boots, jeans, whatever was comfortable. I think like me, Kathy considered wearing corduroy pants as being dressed up.

We had a dear friend we met in homeroom too, Laura, who we recently learned passed away last year. I had searched for Laura once the internet gave me the means to find people. On and off for years I searched and unfortunately I found her obituary last year. Broke my heart, I wish I had found her before. Kathy of course was as sad as me to hear and when we were talking about her Kathy asked a rhetorical question. How were we friends with Laura. Laura was one of the disco girls of that era. She was a tiny girl, I think shorter than me (I'm 5 foot) but Laura always wore super big heels so I'm not sure really how tall she was. And makeup. I was never a big make up person and Kathy I think even less so. To this day all I wear is lipstick and a little blush and I apply it once, when it wears off I don't reapply, it's just not my thing. But Laura wore red lipstick, I remember constantly telling her it was on her teeth and I wasn't busting her chops either, but she would fix it once or twice and then tell me to just leave her alone (in a nice way). She also applied her mascara and then took a safety pin and separated her lashes, took forever! (My friend Josephine too, that was her thing years ago, I'll have to ask her about that, she has three kids now...teenagers!...I kinda doubt she's using that safety pin anymore). But Laura, and she too was a mom, another sad part leaving behind a daughter and her husband, but I'll bet she was still using that safety pin or created a better tool somehow but was separating her eyelashes and wearing her red lipstick and high heels until the end. That was Laura and that's why Kathy and I were friends with her. She may have been so different from Kathy and I on the outside but on the inside she was just like us. Just real. Nothing plastic about Laura, Kathy or me. Laura in fact plucked my eyebrows for the first time, the pain was horrible and who knew the Brooke Shields thick eyebrow thing would be so big, I should have just left them alone! I gave in to peer pressure, but that wasn't Kathy, not then, not now. She's true to herself.

I loved the way Kathy printed and maybe she doesn't even know this but I copied hers and I've always tried to print like her and get compliments on my printing, but it's not half as nice as hers.

And if any of you have read Kathy's comments to my posts, you can tell she's my friend, loves and cares for me very much, but one of my practical jokes in high school ended with Kathy getting hurt pretty bad. Probably still suffers some pain to this day. Not my intention at all, I would never try to hurt Kathy and I know she knows that, and she knows I know she knows that. Should I push this...she knows, I know, that she knows...no I wont. But trust me we both know, no one was supposed to get hurt.

I had this brilliant idea to have a teacher come in to a class finding a student tied, gagged, blindfolded and probably some kind of note. There were a bunch of us involved, but I was the ringleader. Kathy was in on it, was chosen since she had the least amount of demerits and wouldn't give any of us up once she was found and could afford a few extra demerits. But we never got to the classroom. Instead of setting Kathy down in the classroom and then blindfolding, gagging and tying her up, the smart thing, we did it outside the building and had to lead Kathy into the building and then the classroom. Well Kathy fell, and forgive me again but I still have a horrible evil little smile on my face remembering that moment. When she fell, it was like a scary movie, where you open the closet and a body just falls out straight down. Kathy hurt her knee really really bad and when we took the gag off she was cursing up a storm, not at me, at the pain and to get her untied and get help. Now I'm not laughing cause I know this was the bad part of my prank, which could have been worse, as bad as it was. Kathy had to go to the hospital, again really messed up her knee because of me, but she forgave me, she knew I would never hurt her intentionally.

After that fiasco me and all the other girls headed to our classes, late. Not two minutes after sitting down every one started saying they smelled gas and then the principal came on the loudspeaker telling us to evacuate the building and head to the chapel and once there we were instructed to leave the premises right away that there was a gas leak in the science lab.

I had nothing to do with that although I was in the lab prior to what I refer to now as the "kidnapping fiasco".

The next day as I was in the hallway waiting for a class to start I was surrounded by the group of girls involved in the "kidnapping fiasco", all telling me not to mention we were in the lab, leave that part out of the story. They were telling me this because they knew the dean would ask me, I couldn't lie, I may have done stupid pranks and made some trouble, but I couldn't lie to a nun if caught. As they were coaching me I could see the dean heading right for me and she got me out of the group and sat me down in her office. I started crying right away saying "Sister I had nothing to do with the gas in the lab, I'll tell you everything, but I didn't turn on the gas". She believed me and with a straight face just wanted to talk about the kidnapping. I told her everything. Why I was in the lab and to the end of the story which ended with my friend being hurt. She was looking for a timeline of what had happened the day before. It turns out two of my classmates decided it would be funny to turn on all the gas jets in the science lab. Real funny huh. They were thrown out. I think I got demerits and detention, which I deserved and my kidnapping days were over.

Kathy left our high school not long after that but we still remained friends until she like so many of my other friends, got married, started a family and I was off with my single friends, we just were leading different lives, never forgetting each other and reconnecting once I calmed down and her kids got older. She was at my 40th birthday party and I know my family was so happy that they found her to invite her, knowing how much it would mean to me that she was there, and it did mean a lot. I love my friend Kathy. The first special soul born on 11/21.

The next was my Molly. My beautiful Yorkie and best friend. And as the name of my blog is "Molly Made Me Do It" I hope you can tell that it means she was an inspiration to me. She made me feel alive again after I had gone through some tough times. She kept me going and sometimes I think she's still somehow inspiring me from the other side, "Over the Rainbow Bridge".




And last but not least is my niece Gracie. Gracie is my cousin Chrissy's daughter and my Aunt Libby's granddaughter. She is also BFCF (Best Friends Cousins Forever) to my other niece Bella (they made up this term). They are cousins and buddies. And Gracie is a sweet girl who reminds me of her mom when she was little, she's a little Chrissy. But most important she's a loving little girl, to her mom and dad, her older brother Luke (who just doesn't understand yet how great his little sister is and will be for him when he's older), for her aunts and uncles, cousins, grandpa, for me too and especially her grandmother, Gara I think they call her, Luke started it, but I adore my Aunt Libby and Gracie does too, that makes her aces in my book. Happy Birthday my beautiful Gracie!!

(We'll have to get her to use the George Burns, Gracie Allen line, "say goodnight Gracie"!)

More

It's the Sunday before Thanksgiving Day which has always been my most favorite holiday. It's changed over the years, as everything does, but on Thanksgiving Day, no matter where I am or who I'm with, it's just more, instead of changed or different, better or worse. It's just more, like extra whipped cream on a piece of pie.

I miss things from my past Thanksgivings, loved ones I've lost especially, but it's always been and continues to be, for me at least, a holiday that just can't be commercialized like all the rest. Yes there are decorations on people's lawns now. Big blown up turkeys, flags and such but still not as much as other holidays and the day itself always seems so quiet and peaceful, well once you've gotten to where you're going, because traffic is absolutely horrible on Thanksgiving while traveling to your destination and somehow it's always a fast ride home. Why is that?

Thanksgiving isn't about presents or getting or giving anything, except ourselves and our love. All the commercials on TV pretty much ignore Thanksgiving, all it is is the opening season for Christmas and spending money, somehow they just can't sell what Thanksgiving is, they can't commercialize this holiday.

Little kids still love to put their hands on a piece of paper, trace their hands and make a turkey. I did it, you did it, we've all done it. Such a silly simple fun drawing that when we learn it we're amazed at what a great turkey we just drew. Look at that, I'm an artist! And every parent loves to hang that up on their fridge, nothing on the lawn to show off to anyone, just for themselves.

Waking up on Thanksgiving morning was so exciting, a day off that I couldn't sleep late, even in my late teens and early 20s when the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving was one of the best nights out, coming home in the wee hours, sometimes even getting home when the turkey was being put in the oven. But I'd wake up once the smell of the turkey cooking filled the house, drawing me out of bed, my nose following the smell to the kitchen like a cartoon character floating in the air, heading to the oven to take a peek, and then hearing my mom say "close it!". For me, Thanksgiving is just about being with family. And on Thanksgiving the oddest and most beautiful families are just created out of the blue, magic. No matter what your tradition is, was or will be, you're with people that matter in your life. And it also seems to be a day that so many more people get out and volunteer to help the less fortunate. A day most people do remember how much more they have.

Growing up by tonight my mom would have had all her supplies on hand for the big day, no last minute shopping, the stores were all closed when I was a kid on Thanksgiving Day. And there was no big shopping day the Friday after, that day was for relaxing, having leftovers and continuing that warm fuzzy feeling. No, not the tryptophan in the turkey. Just more. More whipped cream on my pie.

Thanksgiving day was watching the Macy's Parade, which I've never been to. Typical New Yorker. But watching it on TV was great and also waiting for Santa's first arrival of the season. My mom made it special and again even though I miss her, especially on holidays, everything she did is still with me on Thanksgiving and everyday, a layer or two below the whipped cream, but there, under the More.

We watched "The March of the Wooden Soldiers". That seems to be a movie that just hasn't caught on in this generation, it's rarely on and I haven't seen it in years. But I still can remember so much about the movie, so many lines, one of my favorite's:

Ollie Dee (Oliver Hardy) : Goodbye Stannie.
Stannie Dum (Stan Laurel) : Well aren’t I going with you?
Ollie Dee (Oliver Hardy) : Why no. You’ve got to stay here with Barnaby. You’re married to him.
Stannie Dum (Stan Laurel) : I don’t want to stay here with him.
Ollie Dee (Oliver Hardy) : Why not?
Stannie Dum (Stan Laurel) : I don’t love him.

Read more: http://www.clown-ministry.com/index_1.php/articles/laurel_and_hardys_march_of_the_wooden_soldiers/#ixzz1eIr4W8AA

And football, of course football has always been a part of Thanksgiving. Watching and playing. Even my mom getting out there and playing touch tackle with the guys and loving it. For a short time playing football early in the morning on Thanksgiving was becoming a tradition for some of my nephews, and even though it's not every year now, it's part of their pie, just under the More.

This Thanksgiving Day I'll be spending it upstate at my sister Linda and my brother in law Bob's house, really the perfect setting for Thanksgiving, the mountains, still some of the colorful leaves on trees, and a big backyard for a football game and if it snows, a hill for sleigh riding. Their kitchen is really big, warm and homey, everyone in and out gathering around the oven when Linda's checking on the turkey, especially my four legged niece and nephew, Scout and Casper. Casper is the one on top and as much as Scout loves her brother dearly, she puts up with a lot, Casper is crazy, fun, but crazy. The last time I slept over he woke me by jumping right on top of my belly, like he was doing the heimlich maneuver on me, I woke up fast, that little bugger! But they'll be in the kitchen all day, especially when the turkey gets carved, waiting for a piece to drop, or even a piece given to them by not being able to ignore their beautiful little begging faces.

There will be a lot of us there, but not everyone as sharing holidays is what we all do, but even so, they are all with me and part of my pie that just keeps getting more whipped cream.

More please!

I'm a Squirrel

My sister Linda called me a squirrel when I moved back to our family home after spending a few years out on my own, where I learned the hard way that I had it made at home with my parents, even sharing a room with two sisters, dinner was ready when I came home from work, laundry done or even if not done, which started the very first time I complained to my father that he ruined a shirt or something, that was it, do it yourself Treach (that's what he called me) and if you need special settings, you remember it. No complaints, I had a washer and dryer right there, no more searching for quarters or lugging my laundry to everyone's house that I visited. (If you know me, I again am without a washer and dryer and if I'm coming to your house and you have one, I will usually be asking, can I bring a load of laundry?)

But when I moved back home with the "stuff" I moved out with and the additional "stuff" I collected while living on my own, I went up to the attic to add it to my collection and noticed it was all gone. My sister Linda cleared it all out, said I was a squirrel and hoarded everything and decided I didn't need all my "stuff". She was right. I was pissed at the time, but she was right, I saved too much.

I still continued to do so over the years, saving silly things and putting them in memory boxes, you know those beautiful boxes, hat boxes of old, now storage boxes, and now I have a new collection, pretty boxes filled with "stuff". Of course I saved and continue to save pictures, even the ones that don't come out very well, or are not flattering to me or my family or friends. The pictures capture moments and if I didn't look so great at that moment, so what, it was still a special happy moment captured in time. I mean really, do you ever see anyone taking their camera's out at the hospital when someone's been in an accident or in a coma? Or at a funeral. Well I guess there are those that do and want to see that "stuff", not me, I want to hold on to the happy memories. I want to squirrel away my precious possessions to take out and look at, hold in my hands.

I've moved lots over the years. After my parents passed away I again moved out on my own to a much smaller space and had to get rid of "stuff" but you know I was collecting new stuff. Each move I got rid of more and each move I think I've gotten smaller apartments as well. I finally got to a point, I think just because I'm getting older, I don't want so much "stuff". I don't need a big space to live in, just more to clean. I'm not a knickknack person. Just more to dust, but there are certain things that I don't care if I have to dust them, I can't throw certain things away.

When I was still living in my parents home I used to come home from work and find rocks on the counter top, just a few. Not dirty, they looked like they were from someone's driveway or rock garden in front of a house but I didn't know where they came from and would toss them out on the lawn. Finally my niece Jessica, probably around 5 at the time asked me if I found the rocks she left for me. Oh! Yes Jess, I keep them in a special place! I was stealing rocks for a few weeks, one or two at a time, and even though they are not the ones my Jess picked up in her little hands and took home for her Aunt Tricia, I have a few in one of my boxes of "stuff" and when I look at the rock I remember that special little gift from Jess.

My nieces have all given me dandelions over the years, even a nephew or two when they were really young and I wish I could have kept everyone, hoarded them away in a box but even though I didn't, I can't look at a dandelion without remembering that some beautiful little person I loved picked that weed up and presented a beautiful flower to me with love.

And the pictures and the cards! From so many loved ones but especially the kids. I've scanned and put quite a few on CDs and DVDs for storage but some I still can't throw away, I need to hold that little piece of paper in my hands.

My oldest niece Irene...who will be 30 next month, so hard to believe, married, all grown up...she gave me a note, probably about 4 or so at the time, and it says "Aunt Tricia is a Nut Job". But she wrote it the way a four year old would, there wasn't enough space after writing A-U-N on the first line so she continued the T-T-R-I-C on the next line and then I-A-N-U and finally T-J-O-B. I'm not sure she could even read it if she tried, the letters are all over the place, no straight lines. I love that note.

My cousin Sandra has our Grandma Loretta's vacuum cleaner. Grandma Loretta died in 1976 and I'm sure that vacuum cleaner was pretty old by then, and though Sandra hasn't even tried to plug it in and see if it works, she wont throw it away and like me takes it out of the back of the closet every so often and just looks at it. Maybe there's a squirrel or two in every family.

I've mentioned I'm 12 years older than my youngest brother Joey, who was my buddy when he was little and my personal entertainment, he could make anyone laugh from the time he was sitting in his high chair to this very day, a great sense of humor. Although I have dark brown eyes and hair, three of my siblings are blue eyed and four of them were born with blond hair, Joey's the lightest of all, almost white. He had a little curl that fell at the nape of his neck and after his first haircut I saved that little curl, tied a blue ribbon around it and put it in a little box, saving it for myself for years and then making sure I kept it to give to his wife. Unfortunately Joey married a woman who didn't like keepsakes, not my kind of keepsakes anyway, and even though they are divorced now, I think that little box with Joey's little hair tied in a blue ribbon was thrown away years ago. Live and learn! I should have saved it for his children in one of my boxes of "stuff" and waited until they were old enough to pass it along.

My brother Michael gave me something very special before he died and I kept it for many years. I didn't like to keep it with me for fear that I would lose it but sometimes I did keep it in my pocket to have him with me during hard times when I needed a piece of his strength with me. It would make me remember the day he gave it to me with a pride he deserved and because he knew I believed in him, was proud of him. I gave that to his daughter and though she may not keep it in her pocket or even take it out and look at it, I know she'll never lose it or throw it away, not only was it her father's but now it's a piece of her Aunt Tricia too.

When my mom died there wasn't much to keep of hers. She was a simple woman, things didn't have meaning to her. For birthdays and Christmas and Mothers Day, she wanted a dinner out, no cooking, no clean up. Or tickets to a Broadway show or even better, cash for the racetrack and then dinner afterwards. My mom wasn't a jewelry person, though because of her weight gain over the years and my father buying her a new wedding band each time her beautiful fingers got a little chubbier, my sisters and I all have one of her wedding bands, which again didn't mean anything to her and doesn't really mean much to me. What I saved and is important and meaningful to me is one of her pocketbooks. Again nothing fancy, no name brand, in fact I would never use it, I just like to take it out of the bottom of my closet every few years or so and go through the things inside. Not much in there. Her Avon lipstick. She always wore CocoPoco and though it doesn't smell like it did when it was new I still open it up and smell it. I can remember the Avon lady coming to our house in Brooklyn, bringing those little lipstick samples that my sister and I loved to get and use. They would sit and have a cup of coffee, a piece of cake, chat away and then we'd go through the little book together, just looking at the pictures of all the makeup. There's also an eyeliner pencil in the bag, something I've never used but my mom lived during the times when women plucked their eyebrows super thin and drew them on with a pencil. Her social security card is in there too, with her signature, just a simple thing that means so much to me, her name, written in her hand. A car service card, from her last job as she would work late at night and come home by car service, unless my dad picked her up, which was 99% of the time.

So I'm a squirrel. But I've saved some good "stuff" and gotten rid of a lot of the meaningless "stuff". I'm proud to be a squirrel, saving special "stuff" for the dark cold winter days of my life.

We Moved

Hi, I'm Honey.

I've recently moved from Long Island, New York where sometimes we had perfect weather and sometimes we had that cold stuff falling from the sky, my humans (mom and dad to me) call it snow. They were like Honey, want to go out in the snow? Well yes and no. It was fun but when I walk I kind of move a little from side to side, and my ears flop a bit, it's easy for me to lose balance and slip. And it's harder to smell under the snow. I always liked New York better when it was warm and if I needed a cool spot I was a master at finding it, a tiled floor, shade under a tree and that thing mom and dad call air conditioning, I like that!

Life was good in New York. I met all kinds of dogs in the neighborhood and I'm going to miss a few. There were mostly nice ones, but you know there's always one in the neighborhood, thinks he or she is the main dog, who cares I say, don't worry, take a nap. There were lots of little cuties too, but to be honest, I'm kind of mellow and some of those little dogs, you know the ones that yap a lot but never really have anything to say, they drove me a little crazy. I would be like, chill, take a nap. But they always went on and on about something.

So now I'm a Floridian. Look at me knowing that. My humans, mom and dad, are still just a little weird about the New York to Florida move. Humans? They can be confusing. They so wanted to move but now talk about differences from New York to Florida. I give them that look, like come on guys, what's the big deal, are you happy, do you have a good place to nap? What else do you need. I am blessed though, my humans are great people, we've pretty much gotten through the language difference but once in a blue moon we do have a little miscommunication, mostly their fault, but otherwise we understand each other.

Florida has been great. Lots of new smells, that's my thing. I know, I know, we're second to bloodhounds, but that doesn't mean I'm not really good at it or that I don't enjoy it, because I do. And I'm getting use to my new digs, even though there's been work going on and my humans are getting all excited over something being finished or done. What's the big deal, again, take a nap! But as busy as they are, they can't help but give me their attention, I'm really cute, you can't ignore me.

So life in Florida. I can nap inside, outside, pool side, I can nap at sunrise or sunset. All winter long I'll have all those different nap options, what a life!!! And there's always the couch. Even when not napping the couch seems to be something that both my humans and I have in common.

Another great thing about moving, you tend to gets lots of company. I guess everyone wants to make sure that I'm happy, that my naps haven't been interrupted and I'm still growing up happy and peppy. Yes I'm peppy, I just don't need to prove that to anyone, not a show off, just a happy dog, napping, eating, smelling and taking care of my business with my humans picking up after me. I wonder what they're saving that for? Must be special. I know who I am and what I think of myself and what's important. Do you think it's possible to teach humans that? I mean the nap thing seems to be catching on...maybe we can teach them more tricks? I think humans dream too. I wonder what they dream of?



In any case I'm loving life in Florida,

I Have A Cold

Sorry my wonderful readers I've been sick with a head cold and have been in a fog for a few days, still coming out of it as I find myself not even being able to type very well which I do for a living, I'm pretty fast and accurate but when you have a head cold everything is difficult, you feel confused all the time, wandering around, wondering where was I going, what was I getting, oh yeah...no I lost that thought again! Forming words impossible, every word I say has a "duh" sound "at'd the'd end". Again the fog is lifting and I am feeling more myself, now I only ask myself a few times a day where was I going, what was I getting...my norm!

You know how kids just say the funniest things without meaning to? My niece Irene used to call the Wizard of Oz, the "Vizard of Oz". Better my niece Jessica could not say Irene. She was Direne for years. We'd say Jess, say "I", which she could say and then we'd say, now say "rene", which again she could say, but put them together and she always came up with Direne and looked at us like we had three heads, I'm saying what you said!!!

My nephew Robert used to say "hold you" and put his arms out for you to pick him up. His dad, my brother Joey, told him, no, say "hold me". Then Robert said "hold you me". Joey loved it. He never corrected his kids when they were that age anymore, he would say whatever word or phrase the correct way to them and let them learn it the right way at their own pace, he enjoyed hearing Robert say "hold you me" and missed it the day he said "hold me".

Bella, Robert's little sister by 4 years used to say "am-i-nal" for "animal" and it was absolutely adorable. Robert corrected her one day and Joey passed along his secret...Robert, enjoy it while it lasts, she'll say it right soon enough. And Bella did but in the meantime, Robert loved to hear her say "am-i-nal" and the look on his face enjoying her was as precious as hearing her say "am-i-nal".

Which leads me to "I have a cold".

When my brother Michael was little, probably around 3 or 4 he got a little bowling alley game, downsized, something you would set up on the floor. Every time Michael rolled that little ball down the lane to knock down the pins he said "I have a cold". Every roll. Why? He saw a TV commercial for cold medicine where a guy bowling said, "I have a cold". Michael assumed that's how you bowl.

I have a cold.

The Blind Side of Penn State

I'm so angry. I don't want to blog about bad things and sad stories, but as a responsible adult, I can't keep my mouth shut.

We have an obligation to protect all children and those who cannot protect themselves.

I am a tiny woman, afraid of my own shadow but if you hurt someone I love, I'm going muster up every ounce of courage I have and do something, say something, find help if I need to, I'm not going to walk away. And if you're hurting someone who can't take care of themselves, again, I'm going to do something.

I read today that according to the grand jury report in 2002 a graduate assistant allegedly told Coach Paterno what was going on. 2002!!!!

We all see the commercials now, "if you see something, say something". Doesn't that apply to so every aspect of our lives? As moral adults isn't this our responsibility? What is going on?! We want to protect a coach because he's had a winning team for so long? Are you kidding me! And forgive me if I'm wrong and someone else covered up the story but this guy had to know something was going on, a lot of people had to know. How could there be a grand jury investigation dating back that long about such serious allegations and no one was put on suspension? Yet a kid who does something stupid in school is put on suspension in a second and loses his education that he/she or his/her parents are working day and night to pay for?

What is going on at Penn State is just plain disgusting. All I hear about is that a beloved coach was fired. What about these poor innocent boys that have been sexually abused, their lives changed forever? What about everyone turning their heads and saying someone else should take care of this, passing the buck, not making waves. Everyone keeping their jobs.

I moved out of my parents home and had my first apartment about 1981, I was 22 and shared it with one of my best friends, Karen. One of our neighbors was constantly beating his wife and Karen and I were constantly calling the police. Everytime we heard the fighting start, before he started throwing this women all over their apartment, Karen and I were on the phone calling the police. I can't tell you how many times we called. And we would be hiding below the peephole when the police came, popping up to look out in the hall and see what was going on. Yes, we were afraid of this man and what he would do if he knew we were the ones calling the police on him all the time, but what gave us the courage to call was the fact that we weren't afraid of him when he was beating his wife, we were angry and afraid for her, that was our only thought, protecting this stranger who could not help herself. We didn't even think about anything during those moments.

Now this particular women chose to stay with this man, I don't know why, but I'm not going to judge her. I myself have been with men who weren't good. No, they did not hit or beat me or hurt me in anyway, but when you're in love, sometimes you do stupid things, stay with a bad man or woman, just because you're heart wins over your head. But my friends saw, my family saw, they weren't in love, they told me...Tricia, this guy is no good, he's a bum, he's not worthy of you, whatever, they looked out for me when I wasn't thinking straight.

Also when I lived in that apartment with my friend Karen, we had a neighbor, a single woman with a beautiful little girl, maybe 4 or 5 years old. There were men in and out of this woman's apartment and we felt so bad for the little girl, wrestled with what we should do. The day we saw this little girl looking out a broken window to say hello to us was the day we called the police, we were waiting for an opportunity. Why was the window broke, where was her mother? Bottom line, it was our responsibility to make sure someone asked those questions, looked out for this little girl. We had to protect her and we did something. We didn't walk away and say someone else will take care of it.

If you see something, please dear God say something! And keep on saying it until something is done.

A Rare Sight

Yesterday was Election Day and for kids, more important, a day off from school. When I was leaving for work yesterday I walked outside and as I was getting into my car a bunch of boys passed me by riding their bikes up the street. They looked about 12 or so and were so excited, a beautiful day on their own. No adult supervision, fun and adventure on a beautiful sunny day off from school.

If that moment was captured in a movie, there would be beautiful music playing and birds chirping away in the background. You would see my face beaming as they passed me by and you would actually notice the difference in my body movements, the energy of those boys passed right into me. It was a piece of yesterday. I don't see kids riding bikes in my neighborhood, a nice neighborhood, but I'm sad to say that yesterday was the first time in the almost seven years I'm back in Staten Island that I have seen that. I see lots of bike riders in my neighborhood and Staten Island has beautiful trails and back roads where you can take great rides, families riding together, bike riders like my brother in law Bob, who can't get enough of it. Bobby has every kind of bike and has been riding since I met him. In fact after Linda and Bob's first date, my sisters and I were driving into our town to park the car and take the train to the ferry. It was a rainy day and puddles all over, Linda splashed a bike rider as she was driving, really bad, and said, "I think that's the guy I went out with last night". It was! Bob commuted from one side of the island to the Ferry and then rode to midtown every morning on his bike. He's still out there, every chance he gets and they live upstate in the mountains now, he's riding up and down some hills I don't even want to walk up and down, truly an amazing rider with a passion. I tease my sister all the time, when she was dating him she was going on bike rides with him all the time, since she's got married, I can't remember the last time she's mentioned riding her bike.

One rider in particular in my neighborhood, I must say I've noticed many times, he caught my sister in law and I obviously checking him out a few weeks ago, 20 or so, a beautiful sight.

A few years ago I noticed a bunch of boys walking into our town unsupervised. Another rare sight. They too were about 12 and probably got permission to walk into town, maybe about a mile or so from their neighborhood. Just walking down the street was so much fun for them, you could see it on their faces and they way they acted. They were on their own...too cool.

Again I understand why these are rare sights. I would be one of those moms following them, hiding behind trees, and parked cars. I worry about everything as it is, fuhgeddaboudit if I were a mom!

But seeing those boys riding their bikes brought back a little piece of yesteryear for me. When I was growing up, you would always see a gang of kids, younger and older than 12, riding all over the neighborhood, leaving our bikes outside of the store, sometimes using the kickstand, most times not, just dropping it down and running into the candy store or wherever and it would be there when you came out.

I was big bike rider for years. I used to ride my bike to my high school and I lived close to the Jersey side of the island and my school is by the Verrazano Bridge, it was a long ride but I loved it. My friend Linda especially loved when I took my bike to school and she would ride it in the halls and cafeteria, again part of our mischievous behavior patterns driving the teachers crazy. Unfortunately I had a really bad accident riding my bike home from school when I was about 16. My accidents are unique. I don't fall down stairs, always trip going up! In my teens I was an absolute kluts! My mom had in me the emergency room too many times to count. One time I told her I thought I broke my hand and she told me when it turns purple and falls off she would take me to the doctor. Well it turned purple, never fell off but she did take me to the doctor about 3 days later and it was broke. I remember when the doctor asked why we waited so long to come in I swung my head around and gave my mom a look, like see, I told you! My poor mom. She really had her hands full with the seven of us and here I was giving her a look like that! But again I was a kluts. When I had that cast on I tripped up the steps! I was walking up the stairs with a load of folded laundry in my good hand and tripped and instead of dropping the laundry or using my bad hand to stop the fall, I used my head, that's really using your head Tricia!

So after my bad accident, which by the way was crashing into a parked, yeah a parked car, I didn't ride for years. That accident occurred while riding a 10 speed bike. The kind where you had to lean down like a speed racer while you were riding and using the breaks. I was being speed racer, going down a big hill way too fast. I knew I was going too fast, but I had my school bag on my back, I thought I would flip if I leaned down and breaked from the weight of the bag on my back and turned into a street where there was a no parking zone but of course that doesn't mean anything to people and I crashed. I don't even remember seeing the car, just waking up in bad shape and spending the night in the hospital with a concussion and some other bad injuries.

My brother-in-law got me back to riding. First had me try Linda's old 10 speed and as soon as I got on I was nervous, but then I tried her mountain bike and I felt comfortable right away. The thicker tires make a big difference. If you hit a big rock on a ten speed it could mess you up, well me for sure. But the mountain bikes and all terrain have thicker wheels and you don't have to bend down like speed racers to ride or apply the breaks. I rode again for years until I moved back to Brooklyn, where the streets were just too crowded to ride, I got lazy, haven't done it now in too long and keep saying I've got to get out there.

That rare sight yesterday gave me a little jolt, it's time to get my bike out of my closet, dust it off, get out there and enjoy the fall before it's over. (By the way, I wear a helmet now! I'm getting back to a bit of my klutsy ways again, and besides it's the law. I know they are not the coolest looking helmets but who cares, we're not out there in a beauty contest, we're out there for our health and the pure fun of riding and if you're a kluts like me, it will keep you out of the hospital.)

PS: I keep my emergency information right inside my helmet, just in case!

"B" Movies

I had a great Sunday. Got that extra hour of sleep and it was absolutely a beautiful fall day in New York! Great day for the New York City Marathon and for all those New York Giant fans extra special! Not that I watched it, but I hear.

I started my day with my niece Bella, our Sunday church service together. Her brothers were with their dad for basketball games and one on one with Bella first thing in the morning is usually so mushy and peaceful. Saturday morning she was wild, having had some leftover birthday cake from her dad's birthday on Friday. Uncle Bob and Aunt Janet spent the night with them and were leaving as I was coming to pick her up for basketball practice. I told Bella to tell Aunt Janet to watch it, next time I'm on first shift I'm giving you pure sugar before Aunt Janet and Uncle Bob come!!! But this morning was one of those mushy mornings. I came in and she was still lounging in bed, just waking up. I love getting kisses and hugs then and talking, she goes from one subject to the next and makes me laugh, blows my mind with what she knows and asks and states as fact! After that I had the day to myself, I took a nice ride with my morning cup of coffee and then walked a bit in the neighborhood. All the trees are so colorful. I also watched a few movies and took a nap, perfect Sunday in my book.

I'm a "B" movie fan. Ever since I can remember. Don't get me wrong, I also love the great movies, the classics. But I'll never go by the reviews. If a movie sounds interesting to me I'll watch it, if it doesn't I won't, unless some one tells me to watch a certain film and I love being pleasantly surprised by a great movie, four star or B.

I watched a movie yesterday afternoon (before my nap, gaining that extra hour). It was "Last Holiday" with Queen Latifah, didn't do so well in the theaters, but I enjoy it. It's a feel good movie, sweet love story and I can watch...really just nice background noise, I guess...while I'm cooking, cleaning, writing and sometimes I sit down and actually watch it for the 30th time and still I like it. I have watched "Overboard" with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell more times then I want to admit, makes me laugh, feel good. Goonies, not a "B" movie, but another movie I can watch all the time, if you've seen it, who does not love Chunk! And Fast Times at Ridgemont High, another classic "B" movie.

Did you ever see "Breaking Away" (1979)? It is a fabulous movie! And the soundtrack! I kind of remember this film not being too popular until after it received so many Academy Award nominations and then every one was going to see it. Amy Wright is in that film. Amy is someone you have seen in so many films, but you don't remember her name. She's done TV and more known in the theatre and when I was attending acting classes at HB Studios in the Village (too cool), Amy was my teacher for a few years. She is a character actress, a chameleon, I love actors and actresses that are like that. You look at them, and you're like where do I know this person from, you just can't place it, they are subtle, so good at their craft.

There are so many great scenes from "Breaking Away". Here's one of my favorites with another actor you see in so many films and might not remember his name, Paul Dooley, who plays the dad, he's so funny in this film, too many great scenes with him to count, this is "refund, refund, refund..."



I watch a movie for entertainment. I'm not a fan of horror movies and all the blood and gore, though I do love action films even though some of them can be pretty bloody too. But I think I just love the feeling action films give me, being on the edge of my seat with anticipation and of course the special effects. I can't even watch the beginning of the movie "Cliffhanger" with Sylvester Stallone. My hands start sweating watching that part, though I will switch it on 10 minutes into it, loving the rest of the movie. Also has John Lithgow as the bad guy. John Lithgow is an awesome actor, can play the good guy, the bad guy, the sick crazy guy and the funny man as well.

The first time I saw John Lithgow in a movie was "The World According to Garp" which was first a great book written by John Irving, one of my favorite authors. I will say again, I have to read the book first, I don't want to get movie characters into my head while reading a book. I want to use my imagination and then sometimes rate the movie on that aspect as well. Did the movie capture those characters, did they choose the right actors. In "The World According to Garp" John Lithgow plays the transsexual ex football player, Roberta Muldune. A great choice, as was Glenn Close in the lead role.

But John Lithgow is also in one of my favorite "B" movies, The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension (1984). It's considered a cult film now, again didn't do very well in the theaters. Lithgow's character is hysterical. And as quirky as the movie is, I love it.



Don't judge a book by its cover, a movie by its review, or person from their looks, too often you'll be disappointed by the pretty package. Plain brown wrapping can hold treasures!

NYC Marathon

Today is 42nd NYC Marathon. A sports event that I will watch more for the warm memories it brings up, than the actual event.

My mom loved to travel from our home in Staten Island into Brooklyn to see the runners as they were coming across the Verrazano Narrows Bridge right into our old neighborhood, Bay Ridge. And once you go into Brooklyn for the race, you're not getting back over the bridge for quite some time so she had a day "in the Ridge" as we say. She loved that. Lunch, a little partying, she was a fun lady.

Of course I looked up when the first marathon was held because I look everything up now. Not just because I'm writing a blog, I do it all the time. When I'm reading a book, even fiction, I find myself on the computer checking something out and it leads me to look up something else and then I'm lost for hours just looking up information, just for myself. I like it. I like that pretty much any question I have is at my fingertips.

Today I looked up when the first NYC Marathon was held because 42 years ago I would have been able to look out my bedroom window and watch the runners going over the bridge. And I don't remember that. There is no way it wouldn't have been a big deal when I was 10, especially with my sports crazy mom and the gang of kids in my neighborhood. We would have been having a party in the streets. But as you can see from the little blurb below, copied from Wikipedia, the first Marathon was in Central Park with only 127 competitors. We were already living in Staten Island when it started to become really huge in 1976, I so remember Grete Waitz, I watched little parts of it on TV, and I guess that's when my mom started her treks into Bay Ridge where she would stand for hours at the first viewing point for the spectators cheering on the runners. It became another made up holiday in our family.

I went quite a few times and it was so much fun, really exciting. At the first viewing point in the race, where the runners have just finished 2.7 miles crossing this huge bridge, all of them together, different colors and nations, so pumped to be a part of this event. Cameras, helicopters, it is a sight to see and you feel the excitement in the air!

And the Verrazano Bridge is huge. There's no walking over the bridge. No walking path or even shoulder to stop on.

Years ago, while out with my friends in Bay Ridge, we were driving home over the bridge on a snowy night and the snow chains on the one of the tires in my friend's car broke off a bit. She pulled over on the bridge, and there's not really a place for that on Verrazano Bridge. She got out to just look at what was making all the noise, not like she or any of us could fix it, or even would at this age, but she jumped right back in the car slammed the door and started driving fast, like she wanted off the bridge. Now! She said, "it's a big bridge out there". We cracked up. Like, duh, yeah! But she kept saying no, no, it's really big. Even my poor Aunt Libby, one day driving her old Volkswagen over the bridge, with the floor that was now gone and replaced by cookie sheets, nicknamed "the Daddy Car" by my cousin Doug when he was so little. All Volkswagens were called Daddy Cars by everyone in the family when my Aunt first had this car. And this Daddy Car just stopped on the bridge on. She didn't like it at all! Oh not at all!! Just sat til someone came and she said that even took way too long. It's a big bridge, really!!!

But today is an absolutely perfect fall day in NYC. Added to that, we gained an hour this morning with the end of daylight savings time. It might have been colder this morning, but usually at the first viewing point the runners are starting to take off all their warm clothes, tossing them into the crowd, it's like confetti falling, but instead of colorful paper, it's colorful over shirts, depending on the weather, hats and gloves and scarfs, sweatshirts. My mom loved that part too. Such simple things. Every time the NYC Marathon runs, my mom is the first person I think of. No runners, and I know some who have done the marathon. First my mom.

My mom always made me smell the vanilla extract when she was baking and I love that smell. Truly every time I bake...or make hot chocolate, as I add a little to my cup with a bit of cinnamon too, delicious...I smell the vanilla and think of her, just another beautiful simple gift she passed on to me.

I've just started taking the bottle out and making my niece and nephews smell it every once in a while. Not while baking, which I haven't done in a while, I owe them tons of cookies, but I just think it's such an awesome smell, and besides that it gives me a great feeling, and when I tell them to smell it, it's so great to look at their faces when they do, they are so surprised every time at how good it is, and I've realized that I might have just started the same thing with them that my mom did. Just a simple thing that means so much and can stir up wonderful feelings.

Again that's the NYC Marathon for me.

Today I read there are more than 46,000 runners from around the world. Can you imagine!







From Wikipedia:

History

The first New York City Marathon was held in 1970, organized by New York Road Runners Club presidents Fred Lebow and Vincent Chiappetta, with 127 competitors running several loops around the Park Drive of Central Park. Only about one-hundred spectators watched Gary Muhrcke win the race in 2:31:38. In fact, a total of only 55 runners crossed the finish line.

Over the years, the marathon grew larger and larger. In order to accommodate the growing number of participants, co-founder Fred Lebow redrew the course in 1976 to incorporate all five boroughs of New York City.

The marathon grew in popularity two years later when Norwegian Grete Waitz broke the women's world record, finishing in 2:32:30. She would go on to win the race an unprecedented nine times.

An official wheelchair and handcycle division was introduced in 2000, and starting in 2002, the elite women are given a 35 minute headstart before the elite men and rest of the field.

Thirty-nine years after it was started in 1970, the New York City Marathon has now become the largest marathon anywhere in the world. Each year nearly two million cheering spectators line the course from all different neighborhoods of New York.