It's really hard to be excited about your dreams and plans when no one supports you or wants to help you.
It's the very reason why I've put what I want on the back burner for so long. There are only so many times a person can get excited and then get shot down before they shut down.
I'm at that point now. I'm done discussing what I'm planning and I understand that my support is limited.
I'm just going to do what I need to do to make my dreams real and you can all be surprised when it happens.
I won't look to family for assistance or guidance or excitement. I can't rely or depend on them. I can't blame them either. It's not their dream and they've heard me chirp about it for so long I'm sure they are numb to it.
I'm going to have to find another way to get what I want.
I'm a resourceful gal. I'll figure it out.
So today I had this crazy epiphany about my business plan and how I can set it apart and make it cooler and more ass kicking than anything else out there.
Do all my baking in the rented space that will be pimped out as my small commercial kitchen and then get a vintage trailer to use for event catering and to bring my cookies to the people.
Not just any stupid old food truck though. No dopey step van for my business. Oh no.
No, we go super cool vintage bad ass.
We go with a Shasta Trailer.
(gesticulating wildly like a game show bimbo) Huh?! Huh?! Come on! That's some cool stuff right there!
I know what you are thinking.
You are thinking
"Diana, WHERE are you going to park a trailer in Hoboken?!"
Silly silly common folk. (patting you all on the head)
We park her at the Monroe Center!
Stop. I know what you are thinking now.
"Diana, that's not a truck, that's a trailer. You will need to buy a car or truck to pull it"
Yup and ya know what? I'm gonna need a car/truck/SUV anyway if I'm going to do deliveries. We find a used truck or whatever with enough horsepower to pull a 14' trailer and we are killing two birds with one stone.
(sitting back and looking triumphant)
Oh, but this story isn't over! I didn't start this to tell you how I have this all worked out. I started to share because I wanted to tell you how the universe/fate/God/whatever has once again thrown a sign my way that I cannot ignore.
I went hunting for a Shasta just to see how much one might cost and the first place I searched (South Jersey) brought me back this:
1962 Shasta Travel Trailer that was partially restored for a mobile
coffee shop. Frame was reinforced for extra weight in trailer, rough
wiring is finished for all electrical appliances. New insulation board
has been installed, as well as many other upgrades. The trailer is great
for somebody that wants to start a mobile food business or who is just
getting it for recreational purposes. Give me a call and I will answer
any questions you may have, and we can set up a time for you to come see
it! $4,000 OBO Call Joan at (732)xxx-xxxx or E-mail, Thanks. PLEASE NO
SCAMMERS OR TELEMARKETERS
Is that just a teeny tiny weird or is it just me?
I contacted the owner and asked what she thought it would take to finish it up inside. She said she thinks about $3,000 to restore it.
Hubs is headed down to Atlantic City this weekend and I'm hoping that I can convince him to convince his BFF to take a drive up and see this gal.
I'd like to see more interior photos and ask him to haggle with the owner over the price. (He's MUCH more charming than I am and when he wants something, he can get it and leave you wondering what the hell just happened.)
This trailer doesn't figure into my business plan till the start of the second year of the doors being open so whatever work has to be done on her can be done in bits and pieces and slowly.
(Never mind that I've already begun to pimp it out and it's my evil plan to repaint all that blue with a purple/fuschia metal flake paint and have metal flake vinyl on the seats inside)
First let me see if I can convince hubs to even take a look at her....
$2,000 a month for the space. Owner is getting me a price on all the necessary construction including adding a bathroom and installing sinks, and drains and upgrading some of the electrical.
The beautiful, unique, Christiana. There will never ever be another human like her anywhere.
Since we lost her not one single day has gone by that I don't in some form think of her.
This time of year however, I have one very specific memory that never fails to make me smile no matter how many times I play it over in my head.
We were about 17 years old and had our brand new drivers licenses and she had that amazing car that you see in the photo above. We had spent the day Christmas shopping, getting her tree, running around from mall to mall and just loving our happy, carefree lives.
Earlier that year we had gone to see Anthrax play and at Christmas they had released a new single of their new album. The song was their rap metal number "I'm the man" We each picked up a copy of the single on cassette but waited till we got back to my place to slap it into my boom box.
With that song cranking we decorated the window in my room with fake snow. We went through 3 bottles of the stuff writing our favorite bands names and silly designs.
I remember just being happy and the two of us giggling and gossiping and planning our outfits for the upcoming weekend.
It was just one of those pure happy, hanging out with the (at that time) one person who made me happy, who understood and loved me for who and what I was. She always made me feel safe and understood.
My point behind sharing this?
It isn't always the big moments that count.
They ALL count.
Moments that you think mean nothing or aren't of any special significance can end up being a favorite or important memory.
Some of my favorite memories with her are just driving in our cars, or being in a mall.
Not events or celebrations (though I have lovely memories of those too) but how she made me always feel important and loved and worthy even when she wasn't saying a word.
During this time of year when we are with those we love (if you are lucky) tuck away some of the quieter moments. Pay attention to the smaller stuff. A laugh, a look, a story, a moment shared. They all count, but so often we don't realize it till it's too late and all we have are those memories to look back on.
Here is Anthrax doing "I'm the man" It's a nice festive holiday ballad
Heaven help me. Patrick is breaking my heart tonight. We've been away from school for a week in Disney World and he was so happy. Tonight he's in bed crying because he's dreading going back to school tomorrow.
He's going through exactly the same crap I dealt with with the social scene in school when I was his age and it's killing me to see him like this.
He's trying too hard to be all things to all people, trying too hard to ensure everyone likes him, trying too hard to fit in and be cool and it's backfiring.
Classmates are ignoring him, making fun of him, picking on him which only makes him become more desperate and try harder which gives the classmates more fuel.
It's one thing to go through it yourself, it's quite another to watch your child suffer with a pain you can still feel. I remember the isolation, the burning sensation of the blush on my cheeks when the girls would mock me. I remember wondering why they didn't like me.
Knowing I had a lot to offer, that I was a good person and would make a great friend if they would only give me a chance. Trying so hard, willing to stand on my head and laugh at their cruel jokes at my expense, even learning to poke fun at myself so they would laugh with me rather than at me.
Being invited to birthday parties only because I had to be and when I no longer had to be, being the only kid in class who wasn't invited.
It got so bad, my parents changed my school twice till we found one that was the right fit. It took 4 years of non stop agony, of my coming home each day crying, of my parents trying to figure out how to make it better to make it right.
I want to kill these children for putting PJ through even a small tiny taste of this. Even if it never gets to the point where it was for me, the fact that he's now lying in his bed crying because he's dreading school tomorrow because his "friends" ignore him makes me want to go to school tomorrow with my claws sharpened tomorrow, ready to tear out the eyes of these horrible mean children who are causing my son pain.
I know that I can't. I know that I along with thousands of other adults made it out of that hell to the other side and grew up to be a decent human.
I know that anything I say to him is going to go in one ear and out the other. I know that drive to show them, to prove to them, to make them see that you are a worthy friend overrides anything I might tell him.
I am going to talk to the school psychologist tomorrow and see if I can't set up an appointment with her for him to see what she might have to offer.
I'm a fairly confident kinda gal. I'm not at all shy and not much makes me uncomfortable. There is one thing that makes me more self conscious and makes me want to run screaming more than any other and if you ask it of me, I will decline you every single time.
I do not dance. The thought of dancing stresses me out and gives me knots in my stomach.
My mother was a dancer her whole life. For 60 plus years she danced ballet, tap, jazz, modern. She was as beautiful and graceful as they come. As a little girl, my sister and I spent countless hours in dance studio dressing rooms peeking in watching her do bar work or floor work. She always took my breath away. The happiness was so visible in her when she danced.
My sister took to it like a fish to water. She was on point at a young age and was just as graceful as my mother. She was accepted to LaGuardia High School as part of their dance department in 8th grade.
You know LaGuardia. Yeah, you do. It's the school the movie "Fame" was based off of.
She eventually switched to their Drama department but she is still as graceful and beautiful when she dances just like my mother.
Me, not so much. Since I'm adopted, I didn't inherit the lithe graceful genes. I tried. Lordy did I try. I took ballet and modern from a very young age and it never felt right to me. I always felt awkward and like a total fraud. I kept going to the classes till one day I must have been about 8 maybe a little younger we were doing run run leaps across the floor and I remember in the middle of one less than pretty run run right before the leap I thought,
"GOD. I HATE THIS"
I was afraid telling my mother would upset her but I knew I couldn't do this for one more class. I'm not sure if my mother knew all along dance wasn't for me and wasn't my thing but I don't recall her being angry or upset at my admission that I hated dancing and never wanted to put on a tutu or dance shoes again ever in my entire life.
I've kept pretty true to my word. You won't find me out on the dance floor ever, anywhere and you will never hear me ask to go dancing every, anywhere.
As a 38 year old (39 in 2 months) mother I've decided that I'm going to make 2012 the year I do things I never thought I would do.
Dancing is on that list. Not ballet or tap or modern or jazz. None of those will ever feel comfortable to me.
Nope, I need something with a little bit more sass, something that allows me to work with what I've been given and not feel like I'm alone in a room of graceful, thin princesses.
I wanna go and take a burlesque class!!! Seriously. Stop laughing! I'm not kidding!! I wanna wear pasties with tassles!
More than that though, I want to get rid of the fear I have of settings like this one:
The thought of being in a dance studio with other women to whom sexy and graceful come natural gives me a serious panic attack.
The thought of them watching me and making it look so easy and potentially making a total ass out of my self as I bumble and stumble through the class causes me shortness of breath.
That is EXACTLY why I need to take this class. I need to figure out why the thought of a class makes my skin crawl but the thought of performing excites me.
I need to dispose of my self imposed stick up my ass and just take a deep breath and go and have a good time!
I will be attempting to recruit some of my gal pals to come with me and give me some of the courage I need to make this happen:
Ya know what I love about the Internet? It often has a really cool snowball effect and can take you to places and conjure up memories long since locked away.
YouTube is the catalyst for me tonight. I'll often go hunting on there for old school glam videos to remind me of my past but tonight it started with Kiss videos from the 80's and went off from there. I found myself looking for memories of my time with the NYC 8th Street Playhouse Rocky Horror cast.
We were about 13 when we became part of the crew. Only Chrissy became an official cast member, playing Columbia every Friday and Saturday night. When I ran across this video it shot me back to such a specific time that I had visions of clothing I owned but had forgotten about, about moments, feelings and people who were such an important time in my life back then.
Funny how one clip can do all that to you.
There really are no words to describe how proud I am.
Lion and I went to visit his new classroom today. His new teacher is clearly no nonsense. Firm but fair. She's not going to take any of Bri's guff for a second.
Part of me really really likes her and part of me wants to hide my son away to shield him from the conflicts and head butting that I KNOW is going to go on between them.
I know it will be good for him. Up to this point, everyone has had a gentle, patient, kind hand with him and it hasn't worked. Maybe a firmer approach is what he needs.
Only time will tell.
After we visited, we went to the playground to pick up PJ and to blow off some steam.
Lion had brought his rather large Hess truck with him and on the playground he was playing very nicely until he wasn't.
One of his classmates ran to his mom sobbing that Lion had hit him in the head with the truck. I immediately brought Bri over and made him apologize. I apologized as well and was turning to walk away when the mother said to her son:
"Stay away from him"
meaning her son should stay away from Lion and not play with him.
To be fair, Lion DID hit her son with a truck and he was the bully of the classroom but it didn't stop me from playing out her very dramatic death scene at my hands in my head.
I have said the same words to my children on the playground (and ironically the last time I said them they were regarding her son!)
Knowing that parents think my kid is a bully and are advising their kids not to play with him is an awful feeling as a parent.
After I mentally killed her, I considered approaching her to apologize for anything else Lion might have done to her precious child and to let her know that we were moving classrooms so she wouldn't have to worry about him anymore.
I didn't though. I sat there, listening to her stage whisper with her friends, with her back turned to me trying not to be paranoid but sure she was talking about me.
Actually if she were talking about me, that would be fine. I don't give a rat's rear end what you say about me. (My best friend and I used to have a saying "Say what you want about me, just be sure to spell my name right")
If she was gossiping (And I used to be the queen of it and I know all the body language and mannerisms that come with it) she was telling her two friends about Lion.
Of course, I could be way off base and they were just talking about the weather and general school stuff.
I am so hoping that this new classroom works for Lion and he can start to show these kids and parents what an amazing, fun friend he can be.
"If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies"
Today I had a meeting with Lion's team.
It has been 3 weeks since our last official meeting.
We all decided that despite all the tools, tricks, rewards, charts and ideas we've attempted to implement it's still not working in a mainstream classroom.
We have decided to put him in a special needs classroom and see how he does there. He's not going to be with his old classmates, but rather will be in an inclusion classroom that has kids in the 2nd grade so that the work is more challanging to him.
I think this is a good change and I'm hoping that the smaller class size, the students that are more like him, the teacher who is trained in special needs.
I've never heard his new teachers name but the team seemed to really like her and feel it would be a good fit. Since I trust them I go to this new teacher and classroom with totaly open arms.
We will go to school early today, before pickup to give our card to Lion's teacher and to meet his new teacher and see the new classroom.
Normally when we take a vacation I pack for 4 people with no stress at all. I'm only packing for two and I'm flipping out!
Why? Beacuse when we go to Disney World, we ship everything down. I ship all our clothing, all our toiletries, everything. We have less than nothing with us in the airport each time.
I can't ship our clothing to the boat. It all has to come with us. That wouldn't be such an issue if hubs and I weren't so hellbent on carrying everything on the plane with us and checking no bags. We both feel that the $25 per checked bag fees are INSANE and want to attempt to avoid them.
I put everything we are taking in spacebags. Between the two of us, we have 5 spacebags (and I haven't packed the two pairs of jeans my honey insists on taking with him yet!)
The airline guidelines for carryon bags says:
Continental will permit one bag plus one personal item (see below), per customer to be carried on the aircraft. The maximum combined linear measurement (length + width + height) of carry-on bags must not exceed 14 inches x 9 inches x 22 inches (23 x 35 x 56 cm) or 45 linear inches (114 cm). Please note: All carry-on items must be stowed under the seat in front of you or in the overhead bin. Items may not be stowed in the seat back pocket. Any item in excess of carry-on baggage size or allowance requirements as listed above will be checked to your final destination and may be subject to applicable checked baggage fees.
Personal items
In addition to the one carry-on item, you may bring free-of-charge the below items: one small personal article such as a briefcase, purse, day planner, small laptop computer, camera case, compact disk player or similar sized personal entertainment item
personal aid devices such as wheelchairs, braces, canes, crutches, prosthetic devices and walking sticks, provided passenger is dependent on them one infant article such as a small collapsible stroller, a diaper bag or a government approved child seat (larger strollers can be checked in the jetway prior to boarding the aircraft)
full-size video game consoles (for example Playstation®, X-box®, or Nintendo®), full-size DVD players, and video cameras that use video cassettes (must be removed from carrying cases and submitted separately for x-ray screening) Try as I could, I could not get all 5 spacebags in our new suitcase that falls exactly within their carryon bag guidelines.
I was able to slam 3 in there and it's NOT happy.
We need a second carry on bag. So here is how it's shaking down right now.
Husband/human pack mule will have:
Rolling Suitcase - Main Carryon
Backpack - Personal Item
CPAP breathing machine (He has sleep Apena and beacuse this machine is a medical necessity they don't count it among his bags)
I will have:
Leopard Duffle bag - Main Carryon (this is the second necessary bag for the overflow of spacebags)
Clear Backpack - Personal Item (I might change this to my pink vinyl bag. We will see)
My purse and assorted nonesnse will be in the backpack.
Yet another blog devoted to my co-worker William
-
This blog has been neglected far too long* (due to beautiful weather, which
leads to tons of biking)* and as a result, my "William" notes are piling
up. So...
Posts
