Thursdays with Rachel [On a Sunday]... One Minute to Say Goodbye Before We Say Hello...

If you know what film the quote for the title is from, I'm proud. If not, sit your butt down and watch more movies. Anyway, wishing you all a terrific New Year tomorrow. If you'd like to read my post about the Year in Review, click that cute little link right here: CLICK ME, CLICK ME!! HAPPY NEW YEAR

Wishing everyone a safe & happy 2013!!

Infinite xoxo,
R

Mamma's Monday: Christmas

Merry Christmas all my Little Dee's out there,

This holiday season, I sit in my worn out Lazy Boy drinking eggnog, playing with my cats, and thinking.  What is Christmas?  To some people it's waiting to get gifts from Santa, while for others it's about spending time with family.  Well, I don't have any of those to look forward too.  I don't have any family near by and Santa is scared of me.  This does not stop me from celebrating Christmas though.

I put my DVD of a burning yule log in (it plays for 58 minutes) and I thank God.  I thank Him for all that he has given me.  Successful daughters, lovely cats, and a long life.  How could I ask for anything more?  This is all I need to make me happy. 

Next I bake cookies all day.  These cookies are not just for me, but for the other seniors in the building that also don't have any family.  Doing this gives me a little happy feeling inside.  I just did something to bring some wonderful holiday cheer!

Well, it smells like the cookies are done.  If any of you tell anyone about Mamma Dee's soft side, I'll kill you and boil your insides!!!  Merry Christmas everyone, stay safe!

Love,
Mamma Dee

Thursdays with Rachel: #EndoftheWorldConfessions [PS: Happy Holidays]

Many of you are probably aware of the theory that the world is coming to an end tomorrow at some point. Now I’m not one to believe in that sort of insanity, until this afternoon. Today was actually a bit of an abnormally good day for me. Things went super well, my hair behaved, and my dorky Christmas sweater was actually kind of ironically cute instead of just all dork. And get this: at guitar lessons, this kid I used to know in middle school came in after me, and he remembered my name. Now I’m aware that this doesn’t sound like a big, exciting event, but I’m not very re-memorable, so it freaked me out slightly (not to mention the kid has significantly improved since our eighth grade days…). Oh, and to add to the madness, I don’t have any homework to night. Let the scariness begin…

So here are my eleven confessions, if the world were to end tomorrow. When they uncover the earth, and realize that we had a thing called the Internet, someone will see these and laugh at these “personal” things I had to share. Just for your Thursday enjoyment J

Confession #1: All of my books are based on real people that I know. If you choose to be my friend or my acquaintance and spend time in my life, it’s kind of a risk you have to be willing to take. Sorry, but if you’re nice, I usually try to put you in a good light. If you’re not… well… I can’t be responsible for what I might write about you, even though it might be slightly exaggerated.

Confession #2: I have a huge issue with change. Coming back from vacations. Buying a new microwave. People walking in and out of my life. It’s all under the category of stuff that I have an issue accepting. After a while, I suppose I get used to it, but it bother me nonetheless. It’s a childish thing I’m probably not going to grow out of, since it’s stuck around for sixteen years.

Confession #3: My dreams and reality get mixed up sometimes. If I ever mention something to you that just sounds insane, than I’ve probably dreamed it, and it feels super real. It happens on occasion, and I’m sorry. Just take pity on the fact that that’s probably the most insane thing that I do.

Confession #4: When I get tired, I sound drunk. Despite my big belief in the fact that as the hour of the night turns into the early minutes of the morning, the words that you speak come from a closer place in your heart, I sound a little loopy when I get tired. This isn’t the best combination for a light sleeper, bordering on insomniac, person such as myself. But keep in might, when I’m lacking energy, I sound like a sorority girl during rush week.

Confession #5: Yes, I write in all of my textbooks. Most are old as dirt anyway. I’m only improving them, and helping the next student along with my notes. You’re welcome.

Confession #6: I really miss physics class. Don’t tell Mrs. Johnston.

Confession #7: The Polar Express makes me cry. As does Toy Story and The Snowman. Basically, anything with those sappy songs about childhood, or the magic of Christmas makes my heart a little heavy. I’m a sucker for feeling like I’m six again.

Confession #8: I’m so over-compulsive that I have an outfit plan. Yes, it’s true, and a little silly. But I make a specific plan for the articles of clothing I wear a week. Although be aware it’s one of the only two things I’m super, freakishly perfectionist and neat about.

Confession #9: My iPod holds a higher place in my heart than my phone. Seriously, my phone can sit under a pillow with the battery dying for days, but the minute my iPod is the least bit uncharged I start to have a little freak out moment.

Confession #10: I probably swear too much. Point in case, while writing this sentence, instead of writing “much”, I accidentally wrote, “fuck”. Perhaps that should be a resolution if there’s a new year.

And finally, Confession #11: My biggest flaw is probably my tendency to take everything too seriously. But, isn’t the first step to fixing this admitting it? Isn’t that what they tell people with addictions? Anyway, it’s true.

Well, voila, what I would confess, (within limits of course, this is the Internet), if the world were to end tomorrow. And of course, when we all come to our sense on December 22^nd, wake up and say “hey look, everybody’s alive” it will be a silly remnant to share with the grandchildren in fifty years about how everybody really thought we might blow up or something.

Since the next time I talk to all of you, it will be after Christmas, I hope that all have a lovely holiday. To my Jews out there, here’s wishing Hannukah was fabulous, all eight nights. I’m not sure if anyone I’ve ever met celebrates Kwanza, but if you do, let’s make it great, too. Tomorrow night, I’ll be rushing around, getting all of the wrapping and counting of presents done, like a mad person. Oh, there’s nothing like the holidays…

Enjoy it all, everyone! Sending you & your families the best wished possible.

Infinite xoxo,

R

Just a note from the blog's founder: To make the blog more searchable and more user-friendly, we will be undergoing some physical changes.  So, don't freak out when everything changes!

-Marisa

Thursdays (on a Saturday…) with Rachel: It’s Christmas Time in the City

First, let me start by sending all of my love and prayers out to the victims of the horrific Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting that occurred yesterday morning. When I read the news headlines going across the top of the Fox News building in New York City, I couldn’t believe it. My heart goes out to those poor parents, who went to pick up their children from school, only to find out that they weren’t there to come home. It’s terrible that this stuff happens in the world we live in, and you’d think that with all of our intelligence and technology there’d be a way to stop it. But for now, all we can do is hug our families a little tighter, be thankful for the lives that we have, and enjoy every day we are given. If you’re interested in helping Newtown, Connecticut families with the expense of funeral costs for some of the children, and whatever else that they need, visit this website: https://newtown.uwwesternct.org/.

And now, for the blog post, hopefully to lift your spirits. Now, this would have come Thursday, but I had a sort of terrible sore throat, which the docs claim was nothing more than a bit of a cold trying to keep up. Oh, winter, how you tease me with your illnesses. So, needless to say, I fell asleep early and forgot about writing. Woops… However last night, I have a bit of a more exciting excuse. I was at an annual Christmas party for a family member of mine in the Big Apple. And might I just add, there are few things I enjoy more than the magic of New York at Christmas. It’s one of the few times I actually take pleasure in acting as though I am a tourist (although honestly, I feel like a New Yorker, not an upstate-er).

Everything just seems more magical there. The chill in the air, the people carrying bags from Saks Fifth Avenue, Toys R Us, and FAO Schwartz, and the red Starbucks paper cups with warm, holiday favorites. The candy cane striped bus stops that aren’t in use for the season, the Saint Patrick’s Cathedral manger scene with the golden retriever, the Salvation Army red kettles on every other corner with cheerful people ringing their silver bells to Christmas music. The massive decorations on the street are, too, my favorite thing to take in. The red ribbons wrapping up Cartier, the dripping icicle belts from Fendi, the nutcrackers, the Christmas lights, and the shiny red balls all lined up against Sixth. And then you’ve got my favorite, an old one but still, a classic: the Rockefeller Plaza Christmas tree.

Yes, even as a child, I always thought that giant spruce was magical, in some construed way. It wasn’t December without a visit to the plaza to look at the skater’s, take a photo of the angels with their trumpets, and of course, marvel at the tree, which just seems to engulf the square in a way no other thing can. When there at night (in my opinion, the only time to go if you want to absorb its full beauty), it’s a mad house. Families everywhere, from all over the globe, grabbing hands to try and stay together as they maneuver their way through the throngs of others, all trying to do the same thing. It’s nuttiness. It’s a little pushy. It’s absolutely beautiful.

If you’ve yet to experience New York at Christmas, I suggest that you should reconsider what you have done in your life. Although London (the other city I visited this holiday season) is certainly more filled with decorations (imagine, many, many streets just like Fifth Avenue, filled with gorgeous, 12 feet lighted decorations up above the walks), it’s not quite what New York is to me. Maybe because NYC just feels like home, especially in December… It’s a place where I can almost see myself in ten years, walking down the street with a warm pretzel, taking it all in as I stride back to my cheap apartment. Yes, it’s lovely, incredibly lovely.

The only thing that would have added to the spirit of the season would have been snow. I’m crossing my fingers, toes, and whatever else is flexible enough that the white magic will fall upon us sometime on the twenty-four of this month. That would be enough of a present for me (even though I am indeed pining for John Green’s novel, The Fault in Our Stars, to make it’s way under my tree). How else is Santa supposed to land his magic sleigh with the eight tiny reindeer in my lawn?

Hoping you’re all having a good weekend, and taking some time to realize how fortunate we are for the things we have. It’s a scary place out there, and we don’t always appreciate the good, little stuff that hides in the corners of our days. People holding the door open for us. A warm hug from someone you really care about. Indulging in your favorite candy bar. It sounds like really dumb stuff, but one day, it just might put a smile on your face. Because remember, there are twenty little kids who can’t experience those things anymore, now up in heaven as little angels.

May all who read this stay safe, and keep Newtown, CT in yours thoughts. Have a wonderful week.

Infinite xoxo,

R

My friends, family, and readers:

I have nothing insightful or comical to share today, because the tragedy today has filled me with so much anger and sadness.

All I can say is the following:

Love your friends and family with everything you have.  Hold your loved ones close and never take any moments with them for granted.  Live every day like it could be your last.  Love your life, spirituality, and everything good the world has to offer until the day you die.

God bless Newtown, Connecticut, and everyone who has lost their loved ones unexpectedly.

-Riss

Mamma's Monday: The Zombie Apocalypse

Hello all my Little Dee's,

I am finally out of my cast.  It took a long time, but I am back on my feet doing what I do best, annoying the crap out of everyone!!

Now that my foot has healed, I began packing.  Not for a trip to visit relatives or go play bingo, but a trip to survive the Zombie Apocalypse.  That's right, I am getting ready for December 21st, the day most of the world will become mindless zombies and kill all of the survivors.  I plan on surviving through this and I want to help you too. Here are a few necessities for one to have during a Zombie Apocalypse:

Shotgun-How else are you supposed to fend off zombies?  BLOW THEIR HEADS OFF!!!!!!!!  It's a good thing I have a lot of practice from Halloween when those ridiculous tricker treateres stop by...

Cat Food-I do not want to live through the apocalypse by myself!!!  So I plan on putting cat food out to catch the stray cats and keep them as my personal pets.  Then I'll train them to attack zombies.  I will raise an army this way and save the human race.  Look out zombies, this fat old lady will kill you all with an army of tiny little fluff balls.

Cigarettes-Yes, I know people are dying all around me but I do need to relax sometimes.  I feel like I would need to unwind a bit after a long hard day of training kittens and killing zombies.

I hope these tips help you all to survive the upcoming Apocalypse!!!  I need to go now.  I have Karate classes to further help me kick some zombie butt.

Love,
Mamma Dee

Thursdays with Rachel: I Dreamed a Dream

Alright, so here we go. Thursday again. Just close enough to Friday that all of us can taste it, our second full week of school in a row (which is in my opinion, insanity, especially since Christmas is less than three weeks away…), but just far enough away that we can’t quite grab it and celebrate. And maybe it’s the long week syndrome, or perhaps it’s just my overactive imagination acting up again, but over the last few days in particular, I’ve been having some intensely vivid dreams.

It all started with a wedding dream. They’re something I’m accustomed to, since I’ve had them involving all kinds of people and all sorts of scenarios (last year, I had a reoccurring dream where my best friend was wed to her fiancé, and my pot-smoking, high-out-of-his-mind, hardcore bass-playing crush at the time made multiple appearances where he showed up to the event completely nude. Talk about awkward when you see him in the hallways, passing by…), but not usually so frequent.

And the strange thing about this set of wedding dreams was that they were essentially the same, except for a few select details. It was always one of my other friends (a fellow author of the blog J) saying, “I do” to her current boyfriend. But select things were different. The first dream, the one I remember the best, had a kid I don’t even really know that well in it, which is weird for me. You don’t usually appear in my dreams unless, well, I’ve had interaction with you of some kind.

But nevertheless, this guy (possibly the only person I’ve been informed of who is more pathetically single than myself… and mind you, that’s saying a great deal) took a staring role in my sleepy thoughts. Not out of character, he was attempting to hit on everyone’s grandmother at the celebration, after drinking a bit too much alcohol. Needless to say, this was a bit of a laugh for those who know him, since I guess that it doesn’t stray too far from what could have been the truth.

So on went the wedding dreams, where as always I was the bridesmaid and never the bride. And I didn’t think much of the vivid reoccurrences, until they just stopped, and then I figured I was just out of the dream cycle for a while. Then came last night, when I was watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer with my mother. She astutely pointed out that Hermey, the little elf who wants nothing more than to be a dentist, resembles a certain fella in my class. After a good deal of laughing, I agreed and didn’t think much more of the statement.

Then later that night, while fast asleep, my mind wandered off to have a dream that started out in my school gymnasium. Me and another student were given boxes to bring down to the basement in the building. Now, this is only weird in the fact that my school doesn’t have a basement that students regularly access… When I went down there with the other student, I was surprised as to what I saw.

There, in the fictitious basement of my high school, were majority of the males from my junior class, all dressed as Santa’s little helpers, and working on benches to make toys. And leading all of them on, standing at the front, was none other than the guy whom earlier in the evening I had imagined as a brunette version of Hermey. Even in the dream the irony wasn’t lost of me.

That’s how my week has been. Insane dreams, a great lack of sleep, and the slightest bit of a cold. Nothing unusual or different. But the next time you have a nutty nighttime experience humming about in your head, just remember: at least I’m not as crazy as Rachel, to make an entire class of 16 year-old guys dress and look like elves working on toys.

Here’s to a terrific weekend! We’re almost there!

Infinite xoxo,

R

Mamma's Monday: Rudy

Hello my Little Dee's,

Since last we spoke, I broke my foot restocking the shelves at Wal-Mart.  I slipped on the damn shiny floor AGAIN!!  I guess it's time to retire those bunny slippers...

So today while I was sitting in the cafeteria eating my apple sauce, I caught a glimpse of an old flame of mine; Rudy Bowers.  Rudy and I met way back in '39 at a Las Vegas casino.  He was quite the lady's man.  Next thing I remember we were in his room...playing Go Fish.  Let me get back to the cafeteria.  So I'm sitting there and I suddenly see him majestically grace the floor with his tennis ball tipped walker    , and I lose my breath for a moment.  What a man, in his suspenders, shorts, and lose fitting dentures.  I felt the sweat drip down my brow and cascade over my wrinkles as I silently sat staring at him.  I had to talk to him.

After the third try, I eventually got out of my seat and wobbled over to the line.  I came up behind him and whispered in his ear; "Hello my sexy beast!".  But I forgot he lost his hearing aids, so I got the stupid reply of; "No, but I'd like some mashed potatoes."  So I tried again and said; "HELLO MY SEXY BEAST!!!!!"  Not only was I greeted with; "Calm down, I'll play shuffle board later", but I also received some very weird glances.  Uggghh, I just made an ass of myself yelling to a man who thinks he's playing shuffle board.  Who looks crazy?  I do.

I guess there is a reason Rudy and I aren't together, but who cares.  I will do whatever I have to to be with him.  Hell, I've lived 102 glorious years on a diet of 8 packs of cigarettes a day.. I might as well be immortal!!!

Love,
Mamma Dee    

Mamma's Monday(belated): Reality TV

To all my Little Dee's,

It has been a very interesting few days.  Since last I posted last, I have broken my foot while restocking the shelves at Wal-Mart, so that means I have to stay home for A WEEK!!!!  Since I already have nothing to do, I started watching lots of TV.  This past week I have found some "jewels" of a TV show.  My new favorites are Project Runway and Toddlers and Tiaras.

This week on Project Runway, the designers had to create an avant garde outfit that is androgynous.  That means that they need to make something new that can be worn by both a man and a woman.  The designers ran around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to finish their outfit.  I don't understand why it's so hard!  Hhhhmmm, let me make an outfit that can be worn by both a guy and some girl.  Here, take this old man's bathrobe and wear it like a Snuggie.  BOOM, an outfit that can be worn by both men and women!  I would so win that TV show.

Toddlers and Tiaras is just a national treasure.  Where else can you watch crazy Southern women use their daughters like puppets to compete in beauty competitions?  No where!!  I love watching those little kids that no one can understand, walk across the stage in their little beaded dresses and spray tans that are so orange they look like Oompa Loompas.  I get really into it too!  When one of the kids starts acting like a little brat, I start screaming at the TV.  All the other residents here at the Sunshine Meadows Senior Centre complain.  They say they can hear me cursing at reality TV shows!  I guess I'm addicted now....

Well, I need to get going now.  The other seniors are getting ready to start heading down for dinner.  I don't want them to get a head start or else all the apple sauce will be gone!!!

Love,
Mamma Dee

Thursdays with Rachel: Busy Little Bees

Goodness, finally, a Thursday! Yes, I missed a week while away overseas, however, I am back, and here to speak my piece. And today, it's the issue that I know a good chunk of us deal with: how busy we are. I know it definitely affects me. Clearly, since I've been rather terrible with keeping to my promise of updating every Thursday due to a million other things that seem to rear their ugly face (AP Biology exams, trips all over the place for various things, unplanned illnesses...) But I'm not just addressing how teenagers have schedule juggling issues, because face it, that would be boring.

I want to go on about how I'm kind of getting tired of hearing about how busy you are all. While I do sympathize to the occasional need to vent (and am guilty of even abusing the privilege from time to time), I think we all need to calm down and stop ragging on each other. It isn't a competition to see who can rack up the least hours of sleep and the greatest amount of crankiness. There is no benefit in going on about how you can't get your assignment done because of your extracurricular activities. And above all, most of these choices are yours.

The Honors classes. The music lessons. The sports practices. All of these things are decisions that you made to partake in, because you know that you like doing them, or know that they're for the best in the end. We all need to understand that our issue of time management for things like this is very different from someone who has a serious issue with not having enough time because they have to do something like work two jobs to support a family. That's a serious time issue. Now, staying up until midnight at school for musical rehearsal (cough cough, pointed comment...), or working your tail off at basketball practice? That's a choice, and no matter the consequence, it was one you made.

Most teenagers in America especially are working the juggling act between top classes, family life, clubs, volunteer work, and go yeah, time for a social life. It's basically the most ridiculous calendar one can look at. But the only thing that us youth can be comforted in is knowing that we aren't alone in this madness. And along with this we should know that most people don't want to hear about our problems, when they've got their own pestering them of similar nature. I'm not talking about a quick groan to a buddy, and then moving right on to your next task. I'm addressing shoving these problems at people, as if they're suddenly supposed to grant you a pardon and throw you a pity party. Sorry, not going to happen...

And I'll apologize for my own grief. For those of you who know me, I've got sort of spastic attendance record mixed with an admiration for traveling whenever possible. This year alone I've wracked up six absences for traveling to concerts, weddings, and one foreign country. But I take total responsibility for any stress or agony it causes me. When I miss work, I bitch about it to myself for a bit, and then I try to just move on. If you want to do the things you enjoy, then you have to be willing to handle the consequences that come along with the fun. That's the way all things in life work. A little give, and a little take.

Really, I understand that you've got problems. But everyone has them, so you're not alone. Please, stop making your pretend ones sound so much greater than the rest of ours. Thank you in advance...

Happy Thursday :) Infinite xoxo,
R

Long Weekend

Oops

Mamma's Monday: Wal-Mart

Hello all my Little Dee's, I have decided to take some time out of every Monday evening and tell you all of Mamma's adventures from the past week.  Thus giving these Monday's the title of Mamma's Monday!

So today I started my first day at that hell hole known to everyone as Wal-Mart.  Lets just say it was interesting.  I hobbled in at 4:30 AM for my first shift.  Since I'm new, those idiots decided to give me a shift at the butt crack of dawn!!  So as I entered those sliding doors, I took the first step into my new life...wearing worn out bunny slippers.  I guess those slippers weren't as good on wet floors as I thought, cause suddenly I realized I was on the ground in the frozen food aisle.  Some man who looked liked Honey Boo Boo's mom helped me up off my butt.

Next they showed me my register, lucky number 13.  As the manager started to show me how to use it, I suddenly noticed that I had no idea what he was saying.  So I asked him to repeat that again. After a half hour of wasted time, I found out he didn't speak English!!!  WAL-MART IS HIRING IDIOTS WHO CAN'T EVEN TALK TO THE CUSTOMERS!!!!  I was so angry that I pulled a cigarette out of my purse and started to light it.  While smoking it in the store, Dakshi, the Indian manager, started to jump around screaming something in Indian.  I jumped to the ground thinking that a suicide bomber was about to blow our brains out.  Then Dakshi pulled something out of his pocket that looked like a bomb!!!  What happened next went by so quickly, that I couldn't make any decisions and ended up acting out of pure instinct.

I jumped at Dakshi and knocked him to the floor, biting his hand.  After a few minutes of struggling, he finally dropped it.  Only it wasn't a bomb, but a phone and he wasn't screaming in horror, he was just trying to tell me to put out my cigarette...

Lets just say that my first day was spent in the Emergency Room with my manager who can't speak english.  Don't you just love Wal-Mart?


Love,
Mamma Dee

Thursdays with Rachel: Greetings from Across the Pond

Again, I know it's Friday, but yesterday I was a bit too preoccupied to blog. And that was because I had a flight out of JFK airport to London, England, where I currently am right now. Yes, sitting on a couch in a cozy hotel room with boxes of chocolate biscuits and Walker's salt and vinegar crisps as they call them. Life is definitely looking up, even though I've been awake for almost forty hours straight, living off of pure adrenaline and perhaps a few too many sweets. But what's a few dark circles underneath my eyes if it means I get to indulge in one of the best places in the world?

This afternoon, we ate at a French restaurant, where I was painfully forced to order in French for everyone, because the waitresses spoke only broken British tongue. Now if you know anything about me, it's that I have very few language skills, especially when it comes to foreign ones. The only word I've even attempted to learn in more than one language is "cow" (for no apparent or useful reason...). But despite this fact, I managed to do so, pleasing and surprising myself quite a bit. Although I'm still pretty certain that I could never make it on my own in France without major help from Siri on my iPhone translating every thought.

I'll be in the country for nine days, and they're definitely nine that I am thrilled about, more excited over than most other things that have happened in my life lately, or ever for that matter. It'd been seven years since I'd last touched down at Heathrow Airport, and it was certainly overdue. And perhaps what I'm looking forward to the most are the littlest of things, like the cozy chats with the cab drivers over what to do in the area, or seeing what the new holiday advent calendars look like in Marks & Spencer (a popular chain store here that has a little bit of everything... sort of similar to Target but about a million times better). Those are the minuscule little memories that I like to make the most.

However, enough about me, off here in the country that my native land once had a revolution with. I also want to take a quick paragraph to say break a leg to all of you Coleman Theatre kids out there, as tonight is the opening night of the fall show, Meet Me in St. Louis. All of you, cast, stage, sound, & lighting crew, I know you'll be terrific! It's only about four o'clock there for you, so just know that while I may be asleep by the time you hit the stage, I'll be thinking about y'all ;)

So for now, I think I'm going to sign off, have one last Cadbury chocolate finger biscuit, and then go off to bed to stop this no-sleep-a-thon I've got going on. To fully experience "The Big Smoke" (London's nickname for the record...), I think I should at least catch a little shut eye, even if the childish, adventurous side of me would be just as happy going out experiencing thing after thing so I don't waste a second... Have a lovely weekend, all!

Infinite xoxo,
R

Father Joseph's Mass

Today, my cousin is visiting and spending time with my three brothers and I.

My cousin, Margaret, was discussing Church with my twin brother and I earlier this morning. She was questioning us about the responses at mass, since she has recently been regularly attending mass.  Joseph, the youngest brother of age seven, joined into the conversation, and was inspired by it.

"Let's play Church!" he exclaimed excitedly.

Before we could even respond, he began to collect his plethora of stuffed animals and arrange them in the living room.  Due to the fact that Joey is the youngest of us, we are often expected (mostly by him) to accept everything he says and play whatever game he demands that we take part in.  With this, and seeing the hard work that he was putting into it by writing down hymns and arranging his "altar", we had no choice but to go along with his idea.

The living room "chapel" was soon finished being decorated.  Margaret placed a white blanket over the coffee table "altar" and lit a small candle, while Matt set up the church organ and choir demo music programmed into our electric keyboard.

"You've got to record this." Margaret said to me.  When Joey began to get upset by our lack of seriousness toward his mass, she quickly added, "It's so you can watch this years from now.  Marisa, go get a camera!"

So, I turned on the video camera on my cell phone, and the procession began.  The choir music played as  Joey entered in wearing his blue bathrobe and a red scarf around his neck.  He held up a small crucifix until he got to his altar and set it down.  He looked at us awkwardly and turned around to turn off the background music.

"Welcome to Mass."  Joey addressed his audience of three family members, and then lost track of what he was supposed to do.  After we made the Sign of the Cross, he grabbed his children's Bible and read out loud.  "The First Rainbow: Many years after Adam and Eve...."

After he read the story of Noah to us, Father Joseph prepared the communion (with our reminders of how it is supposed to be done at mass).  We said an Our Father together as a family and gave each other the sign of peace.  As the church organ demo played, we ate our cookie Body of Christ one by one.  The mass soon ended, and we watched in amusement as Joseph led his Beanie Baby altar servers and organists out with the processional hymn.

With this little anecdote, I would like to conclude with just a couple of thoughts.  For some odd reason, this stupid little game made me realize the value of family and religion.  It's nice to see that religion brought all of us together today. In addition, I am glad to see that although he did not understand much of it, Joey has shown a genuine interest in religion and the Bible.  Coming from a very Catholic family, this meant a lot to me.

God bless my family! I love them more than anything.

Thursdays with Rachel: The "First Love" Complex

No, I'm not crazy, I am fully aware that it is Friday, and not Thursday. And perhaps it is not the best way to earn a loyal reader by skipping out the second week on the job on the semi-promise I made to post once a week on the same day, but alas, the insane life of a student often takes over, and instead of being able to do what I love, I must study organelle parts and how to find slant-asymptotes. Oh, the joys of high school. But tonight, I am here for a hot night of philosophical theories and poorly written alliterations for all of you. You are both welcome and apologized to.

Tonight, I tackle the task of the fickle, feeble, and free-spirited heart. While I know very little of the subject, I do have a thought on the matter: people, specifically males (oddly enough...) , have the hardest time getting over the hump of their first, heavy romance. It seems that they aren't able to fully pull away from the relationship, even if they were only fourteen at the time. I call it the first love complex. And while I don't like to stereotype, it often comes in useful, like here, where I am going to state that this ailment of the heart often affects guys before it does girls.

Perhaps it's because females are the stronger sex (c'mon, dudes, as much as I adore you, y'all know it's true. We push babies out of our private parts... I'd like to see all of you deal with that). But whatever, the reason, I see lots of examples. Good guys, some even being great guys, seem to fall into the trap, even the really smart ones. There seem to be two ways that this complex rears its less than wonderful face.

Case A: The guy, despite having other possibilities out there who are standing right in front of them (practically screaming "I like you" in their face, mind you), just can't seem to commit. Now they often claim that they just aren't ready for another commitment, that you two can just have "fun". But take this with a grain of salt and warning. Look into his face, his eyes, his mouth, and mention that "first love's" name. Watch him react, with every squirm, every smile, every slight squint like he's trying to pretend they don't know or don't remember what you're speaking of. Then listen for the answer. Sometimes the words will speak the truth, and others, the body will say it for him. It's like an instrumental version of a song. The words might not be there, but the notes and the chords say a lot.

And then we've got Case B: This is perhaps the more publicized problem at hand. The guy continues to go back with the "first love", even if it didn't work out the first, second, eighth time around. The hang up is still there, as if the problems didn't exist. You'd think a person would be able to realize that eventually, the same pattern is bound to repeat itself, like a really bad pop song on the radio with unoriginal lyrics. Sure, the chorus might seem catchy at first, but eventually, you're going to get sick of it. That's how these kinds of relationships are.

So there you have it, my indefinite but overly-explained idea on how the most vital, and in our minds most emotional, organ in the body functions. Perhaps I'm wrong. Boys, if you haven't had this issue, I'm sorry for throwing you into a generalization. But, some of you, whether you want to or not, might realize how you fall into this group. And maybe this post doesn't change anything, however I can be optimistic enough to think it might at least get you thinking. That's all a writer can hope for.

To sum things up, girls who are the "first love", take heed of what you might be getting yourself into. That relationship is going to leave a very big imprint in the heart of your mate, a fact which can be fantastic and friction-causing at the same time. And to the rest of us, just living among those who have had their heart broken for the first time and are secretly hung up on the person, hang in there. All things will pass, and as people mature, they'll realize that the first try is not always the one that sticks. Maybe they'll stop playing those "songs" on their radios, and switch to an uplifting tune, or a serious love song that means the most to them out of everything they've ever heard. One can only hope.

Have a lovely weekend. I know I will, as I am currently on the Connecticut coast, snuggled up in a warm room with a fire place, snow outside on the ground, and an iTunes playlist full of inspiring songs. What more could a person ask for?

Infinite xoxo,
R

The New Old School

And why I wish I could go back a few grades

I was listening to an Albany radio station a few months ago that was having an "old school all request weekend. "I was amazed that I loved every single song and that they wre classified as "old school." (Isn't that Run DMC territory?) But Christina Aguilera, 50 Cent, Len, Nelly Furtado, Lifehouse, Train, 'NSYNC, Outkast, Britney Spears, Green Day, and Usher's biggest hits at the turn of the millenium sounded better to me than their current contemporaries. Listening to all of these songs brought me back to my childhood and my first ever Compilation CD: the original Kidz Bop. "All Star", "One Week", and "Kiss Me" have skipped since the US sent troops to Iraq. I'll always be partial to two-dimensional animation, with the excpetion of Pixar. Pixar is always a good idea. Belly shirts and oversized hoop earrings will always have a place in my heart. And as much as I adore mobile internet, dubstep, flowy skirts, loose tops, the app store, Mockingjay, chunky bohemian braids, stud earrings, and social networking, I always wanted a bubblegum pink Nokia I could play snake on.



Possibly my favorite magazine cover. These are the actresses who dominated Hollywood while I was a child, in all of their 2003 glory. (I do not own this photo.)