Be Phenomenal

For the most part, being 40 has been pretty fabulous.  I'm calmer.  I know what I want versus what I need.  And vice versa.  I have amazing children, good friends, supportive family, a great job(s)....

Then there's not knowing what the hell is going on with my body.  That part sucks.  The blasted term "belly fat" that I never thought I would utter.  The worry of menopause (hell with calling it 'The Change' - a woman's life is ALL about change)...the horrid cramps that hit.  (If you'll recall, we DID offer a TMI waiver about 2 years ago!)  There's the realization that cutting down on carbs really DOES do my body good.  And that completely sucks. Give me a fresh baked loaf of bread and I don't need sex for days.

Ahh.  Sex.

A fond distant memory.  Which also sucks because everything they tell you in 7th grade about the male and female sex drive is TOTALLY true.  Not at all like those math teachers that tell you that knowing the Pythagorean will be important.  Who knows what E=MC2 means anyway. (LOL, yes, that was intentional).

So, today was a day (especially because I was reading this new smut book) that I had to dig deep deep deep for some patting on the back.  I found it with Ms. Angelou.

For all of us women:

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Be phenomenal, Ladies.

blowing out the candles

Picture a situation where your best friend and your sibling were by your side.  Not so hard, right?  The boys are watching BeyBlades on Cartoon Network and are in that exact scenario.  They are 6 and 7.

In no logical order...How about your graduation?  Maybe your first date?  Your wedding?  The first time you got drunk?  The birth of your first, second, third child?  

How about your surprise birthday party?  For your 90th birthday.  There is only one person on my Facebook friends list that can still answer YES, but chances are he's smart enough not to be reading this right now!

My grandfather, Robert Brown Marr, will turn 90 on the 22nd of May.  That's a NINE with a ZERO after it.  Like 9 decades.  45 twice.  And at his surprise birthday party his childhood friend Joe Cassidy (in the below picture on the left) and his brother George (on the right) were there.  Joe (a newly minted Nonagenarian) traveled from Pawtucket, RI (and that's Pu-TUCK-it, btw) and George, only younger by about 15 months, came up from Dayton.  FOR THE DAY.  FOR THE PARTY.  (Oh, and I HAVE to say this:  Uncle Joe came with his fiance.  And, he SKYPES.  UH HUH.  (I don't know how to Skype!)  Dear Lord, there is hope for me yet!)

This weekend I was walking on top of a LOT of roots.  My family, on both sides, have long standing traditions of making things work.  My Grandpa and Grandma Marr were married for 68 years before she died two years ago.  They have five children.  (all year ranges are pure speculation from here on out...).  My Aunt Sandy and Uncle Jerry have been married for at least 40 years.  Ditto for my Uncle Bob and Aunt Sandy.  My Aunt Nancy and Uncle Dave have been together at least 25 years.  My Uncle John and Aunt Sue have been married for years and my mom and dad were married for 18 years.

On the other side of the gene pool, Monday will be my Grandma and Grandpa Bartlome's 63rd anniversary.  They have four daughters.  My mom and dad, as mentioned, were married for 18 years and my mom and step dad have been married for 18 years themselves.  My Aunt Denise and Uncle Bill have been together for over 30 years as have her twin and her husband, Aunt Deb and Uncle Gary.  My Aunt Dawn and Uncle Jerry have been married for 25 years.

(I'm not even gonna go with the "so what the heck happened to me" route!)

I have roots.  As I said.  Lots and Lots and Lots of roots.  And damn good DNA.  Just look at this picture of me, my dad and my sister:

Go ahead. Tell me how old we are.  Oh wait!  You pretty much know how old I am.  Shucks!! :)

It's not OUR fault we're so youthful looking!  Look at these two:

I wouldn't have wanted to have been anywhere else at 3:20 on Saturday, May 12th.  The look and emotion on my grandfather's face showed what the next 50 years could hold.

My 90th surprise party.  Will you be there with me?

Here and now

My dog hates me. Wait. It seems I've said this before. Well, she does. Or is she doesn't, she should. But she's a dog and she'll get over it, right? I mean I could do without the shit on the floor...but when I'm on the couch next to her, she's all up in my face. Maybe she doesn't hate me.

 *****

 I work in a pretty smart environment. Two things happened yesterday that made me chuckle. No really. Only two. First, one of our student managers walked into the office and said: are they repainting in there? There meaning the fieldhouse that is in the back of the actual gameday arena. Hmmm. Are they painting? Let's investigate. There's plastic tarps down everywhere, all of the curtains are covered, our windows are covered, there are three men in white paint-splattered uniforms operating paint sprayers and there are paint chips everywhere from when they scraped the walls. Last but not least, there are lethal paint fumes permeating every pore. Unless they're painting for the first time, all signs lead to the fact they're repainting. Here's YOUR sign.

 Second, not as funny but still got a chuckle. I answer the phone: Wildcat Basketball! The guy on the other end said.."um, is this, um, is this the Basketball Office at Northwestern?" NO silly, it's the women's field hockey office! That's why I said, "Wildcat Basketball!!"

 *****

 My job is pretty cool (which I mean to say is UBER cool!). Even solely for the fact that I worked for this same entity when I was a college student and my boss and her boss are STILL IN THEIR SAME POSITIONS! Longevity. A Miracle. I got my first tattoo the day that Coach F broke his leg in the Iowa game in the winter of 95. I could have watched the Co-Prez's of my booster club play ball if I'd have wanted..but I wasn't the cool b ball fan that I am now! It's a wonder to me and I relish in it. Even when I found out that someone that I knew back in the day had ZERO recollection of me. Nada. No clue. Zip. (Thank god for small favors)

 *****

 The Men's B Ball team had their presence at the NU Relay for Life this evening. We had been able to gather $9100 in donations leading up to the opening ceremonies and the guys volunteered for another fundraising event during the relay. I never understood how much our team is looked up to until I saw the line waiting to play them in the Knock Out Tournament. All of these students donated $5 to try to beat on of the Men's guys. Funny point is that one of them did. Drew was the first man out! What was the best part...even more so than seeing Dave S. win the whole damn thing...was to see my guys competing, for fun, against each other and their peers. I LOVED the crowd participation when things went good/bad for those involved. And major props to the guy in the navy blue polo and skinny khakis...he was second!!!

It's a whirlpool...

There is so much in my head right now that I would love to download....so this is a warning! There will be a time when I talk about baseball hotties, angst on the job, playing Dr.Jen for the lovelorn, what'll it will take for me to date, and WTH is Kim Kardashian. Oh, and sprinkle that with 'Who was Jeni Marr." That's enlightening! :) I promise....or I threat...!