The "Amy" Experience

In the spirit of Christmas (or Xmas, if you prefer), I'm professing some insight into this dribble I call my life. I've seen multiple blogs, posts, tweets, et cetera, regarding "things" people want for the holidays (which seems rude to me as I didn't know you were supposed to ask for a gift, but rather accept it and re-gift). The flam-ily asked me tonight what I would like, if given the choice.

I have a long list of both takes and take-backs, here goes:

I DON'T want tickets to any major sporting event like the World Series, Superbowl, or whatever that cup thing is. Raffle those for charity. Most seem crowded and not the preferred temperature for me.

I would like to cross the bridge to Long Island, New York. I would like to see the Lincoln Memorial. I would like to eat a real crab cake in Maine. I would like to eat at Paula Deen's restaurant in Savannah. And I very much would like to meet a man named Jerome in a small African village, of whom I think of daily. This is a tiny bit of a long list of to-dos. That's about all the serious you're going to get from me.

Now, for the real deal. I would like to meet that guy Shelby from the TV show Ax Men. I think he and I would get along just fine, as he seems to be a "hoot". I'd offer his dog one pocketknife or two ... Most of you will have no clue what I'm talking about and that makes me sad for you.

TV has become such a pivotal part of my life that I feel I've made friends that are merely a text away; although, they very much are not.

Imagine Adrienne Maloof, if she were to receive a text/call from a hick in Podunk, Midwest who prints t-shirts. Immediate delete and add to the list for those poor bodyguards.

I think I could hang with Candy from RHOATL, but she talks a little dirty...(don't judge me, people, I talk sailor but it generally doesn't include any kind of intimate sex talk). NeNe would be the girl I call from the club to "get my back".

I miss and am the most jealous of the Beekman Boys. They were on Planet Green and wrote some books that made me want to sell my vast wealth and buy a farm with goats, make soap and hire the sweetest gay man in the village to help me take care of my llama "Polka Spot". Seriously, I paid $65 for their soap sample just because of the episode where the one wraps 1400 bars of soap by hand....

Most of the people I converse or dabble with have jobs and/or school, real hobbies, and don't watch near as much DVR as I do. Rarely do I find someone who knows ALL the people I absorb myself with...I'm an addict and I could use a good Tuesday night meeting for this, along with many other minor addictions.

I don't feel entirely comfortable with ALL people. You either ARE or ARE NOT "my people". I don't always know right out of the gate into which category you'll fall. Sometimes, as I get older, it takes awhile....I've met so many new people this past year, and re-fallen in love with some old, old friends. It feels like going home again...or that's the adage I often hear. The ones I "meet" on TV, I am comfortable with. They don't judge, and I'd take them in and keep them.

I don't know what home again means, but I know it when I feel it. So this year, I'm going to vow to make new friends, maybe matchmake them with some of my old and keep my eyes wide open. It's going to be an even-numbered year, so that gives me a sense of hope. Here's a toast to good things to come.

Has It Only Been 2 Years....Seems Like Forever.

I know all the cliches.

What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger.

We acquire the strength we have overcome.

We have no right to ask when sorrow comes, "Why did this happen to me?" unless we ask the same question for every moment of happiness that comes our way.

Honestly, it's horseshit we tell ourselves to suffer through each day.

In two weeks, we will have reached a 24-month milestone since Paige's accident. Every one of our family (and even friends) have been affected. There is no part of our lives that have not been touched. We all will forever refer to things as "before" or "since" the accident.

I met a woman recently who lost her son to death. She reminded me of just how lucky we are. We lost the Paige that we all knew that night, but we have a different one that we all are so grateful to have and one we'd probably have never met otherwise. We're going to keep her.

As for myself, I feel like I have done a decent job of coping with the daily issues that have been bestowed upon us. I've been drug-free (I know, other than the Ambien, BUT I NEED IT and it's a RX). All I ask for is a few hours at night to recharge. And don't think I haven't been offered every substance known to (wo)man...I have tried to be a rock and deal with things as they've came.....

This past Monday morning, Tony and I had a conversation where I told him that my plate is full and I am unable to deal with any outside drama...My plate runneth over. (I think my grandma's plaque in the kitchen as a kid might have said cup, but you get it).

Since the making of that statement, I've had three major events this week. (See what you get for not knocking on wood?)

I guess the focus of this ramble needs to be more in the line of, "Really? Really? Do I look like I'm the Let It Be kind when it comes to my kids, family, livelihood?" To quote Paige (and Joe Dirt) a few years ago when she got in a heated debate with a pastor, "Is this where you want to be when Jesus comes back?". (yeah, that was me fighting judgment with religion, BALLIN')

The funny thing about being maxed out mentally is it makes you CRAZY; aka insanity defense.
After what I've been through, I think you all know that I don't have much else to lose. When you work 18 hours a day, jail looks like vacation. Time in a cell is time to do those G.I. Jane push-ups and make friends with the criminal lot....and I'm pretty sure Nancy Allred would use me for the publicity. If Casey Anthony doesn't fry, I should be able to do ANYTHING.

Please do not misunderstand me, I'm not looking to be arrested. I like to think that I'm smarter than stupid. However, I'm also much less tolerant than I once was. Sort of like a mother hen who will peck another chicken (rooster) to death for getting near her chicks...

In conclusion (thank you, Mrs. Cowgur in speech), it's been a really, REALLY, hard few months here at the Schutt house. We know what we have, we work hard for what we have. We want to make friends, but don't think you will railroad any of us without notice. I'm may ignore, but I won't ever forget and I know Karma personally.

Sign me, Happy and Complacent on Thompson.

There will be no fade-out
This is not the end
I'm down now
And I'll be standing on top again.
Times are hard but
I was built tough.
I'm gonna show you all what I'm made of.

Reflections of Decisions Past

I preface this entire blog with the caveat, "I love my children as much as my heart will hold. The decisions we made to have them have never been considered anything but right".

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  In two days (Sunday), Tony and I will have been married 22 years. We lived together for a year before this (I think simply because we were both petrified of jumping all in). But before I get to that....

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  We laugh around here and say that my dad must have walked into a bar and picked the girl with the widest hips and said, "Yo, let's procreate". He married her on 3.9.68 and the following year on 3.9.69, I was born. (Subsequently, their divorce was final 3.9.70) Which might account for my feelings of the urge to be a whole number, rather than a prime. He remarried.




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  Tony's parents were married many, many years and divorced (I think 32 maybe). A speaker while Paige was in high school spoke to the students and indicated to Paige that since both sets of her grandparents had been divorced, the likelihood of either her or her parents getting divorced increased to 80%. I like to think this is the sour taste that has been left in her mouth regarding marriage.




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  Nevertheless, reflecting back over the years, there hasn't been a single day of my life that I have not looked back and wondered if marriage was the "right" choice for either Tony or myself. I said to him recently that I guessed that being his wife hadn't been an entire loss of life for me; he'd been a good provider, never really beat me and had known his role over the years. (Kid pukes, I get the bath water and the washer loaded, while he stripped the kid and dunked) His response to this was, "Really?". I sensed some sarcasm; although, with him, you can never tell.




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  It's amazing how quickly time flies by....seems like just yesterday I was standing in a courthouse judge's office reciting what they called vows. I do recall they never asked for identification from me, but it was very important that he have it...The grand wedding we had spent months paying for and ordering dated things for were never used. We eloped a month early.

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  I don't regret, per se, being married. But as someone over 40 looking back over the choices in her life, I'm not sure at 21 again that I would make the same choices.....but, then again, I might.

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  Happy Coming-Of-Spring, my friends. If you get a chance, get out and take a walk. Sahara Haulage and Cain Road are beautiful right now. Take the time to reflect on the choices you've made and be happy.....truly happy.

On A Random Monday

As some of you may or may not know, I've recently started a walking regimen. I'm not a runner, although I want to be some day. There are times I feel like Forrest Gump. It's as if I were to win the lottery that I could fly to California and plan my route from one nice Hilton Hotel to the next. Mind you, this would be walking. I've successfully only made it the length of 5 telephone poles as of today. I know there is a skinny girl inside me dying to claw her way out...

I do take an all-natural supplement called Zija to, as someone put it, "Keep me from eating the ass-end out of a horse". This is not a commercial for that, so I'll leave it there. I am a very weak person, completely without willpower. Due to this fact, I have to have a family member drive me 8 miles from home in a different direction every day (this prevents anyone from knowing my pattern, as if someone actually wanted to stalk me).

Eight miles is equal to 2 hours for me. A 15-minute mile is hardly considered fast, but considering I haven't gotten out from behind a desk or chair in many years, this is quite a feat for me. Anyway, I get dropped off, and I do not take a phone. I couldn't take 10 steps without my ipod but a phone would be an easy "OUT" for me to call for rescue. Plus, I'd work from my BlackBerry the entire time if I had it.
For me, it's a getaway. It's 2 hours of the day with no communication, no Internet, no artwork. Someone (in the middle of nowhere in a mini-van) stopped me today and asked what I was listening to. Here is my playlist:

Michael Jackson - Man in the Mirror
Pink - Trouble & Fuckin' Perfect (She's pissy and I like it)
Queen - Fat Bottomed Girls (makes me run hard)
Lynard Skynard - Black Betty (Bamma Lamb)
Commodores - Brickhouse (36.24.36, as if this is possible)
Gap Band - Bad Mamma Jamma & Let It Whip
Kanye West - Stronger (Doesn't even need explanation)
50 Cent & Nelly (who thinks a woman should be 36.25.34)
Rolling Stones, Steve Miller Band, Counting Crows (Start Me Up, bec I'm a Space Cowboy and it's been a Long December).

And really, most of what I listen to is stuff that no one in this world still listens to or would care. I'm sure there is some psychology in the songs that I choose. The angry songs that insult me tend to make me want to go faster and farther.

Well, anyway, I've lost 60 plus pounds. I won't say how much because I'm afraid I'll jinx myself. I will let you know (even if you don't want to know) when I've hit 100 pounds. I'm all of 5'4" and my doctor's chart says 110 to 140 for my height. I'm going for 130; although Tony Schutt says my bones alone weigh 120. (Thank you, Tony, you've just picked a fight with a bulldog; and not like that pussy Ralph). I'm not running FROM anything, I'm running TO something....I just don't know what IT is yet.

In conclusion, my current signature line on my email is a quote from Ben Franklin. It goes a little something like this: "Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote. I'll leave it at that. Goodbye, Monday.

What's Happening on Thompson?

Well, it seems I've got a moment to myself to semi-compose my ramblings. Here's some ADHD-type comments of my current life:

I put Paige on a plane yesterday for spring break in Fort Myers, FL. She got there without meeting Royce, the 66yo man from Des Moines or an 11yo Iraqi boy. Guess I should consider that a gift. She has yet to learn that when someone is nice that does not mean they wouldn't rape her and throw her dead body on the side of the road. On a plus side, she gets her braces off in 17 days (for the 3rd time). Yippee.

Since I've found this miracle drug (Zija), I have lost more than 60 pounds. I've lost more but am afraid if I admit it that it will jinx the whole deal and I'll revert back to the men's 2XL....I've also found that at a lighter weight, I'm (1) not AS embarassed to take a walk/wog/run here and yonder, and (2) it is much more fun to go to Victoria's Secret when they actually sell something you can wear.

When I was young, I can remember getting up very early to go for a run. I think now it was because I wanted away from the hectic household I was living in. Today, I want to go for the same reasons. It might be the only time of day that I'm not strapped to the net/phone/family.

I bought a Garmin Forerunner (amazing but pricey), and it has literally changed my way of thinking about exercise. I love to come home and see my numbers. I'm sad when I check the weather channel on my BlackBerry (a million times a day), and the weather is not cooperating. I also am getting a better perspective on what it entails to get rid of the calories from half a piece of Coke cake. (so not worth it).

While in Nashville yesterday, I was fitted for proper running shoes. They are like nothing I would have EVER picked out, but they do make all the difference in the world on my crippled feet. (note to others, just bec they look great doesn't mean they're good for your feet). I also found out I have a bad overpronation and that the shoes I've been wearing have been a full size and a half too small)

I've seen a lot of really old friends lately and it's been nice. I've met some really nice new people as well, and it saddens me to think of how different my life could have been if I'd had them in my life in my teens and 20s....Reflection....

Around the homestead: Got a great deal on a custom window this past week for the front of my house, working on plans for a pergola for my back porch (if I can get the male portion of my home inspired) and currently learning how to make crown molding, chair rail and floor trim. Seems to be much more involved than it looks. I am the reason that the DIY channel exists....

TV has disappointed me with this season's Spartacus. The hottie from last year apparently got lymphoma and they had to replace him with a much less hot juice head.....speaking of juice heads, LOVING the Jersey Shore, while at the same time more than happy not to have been a 20-something during this stage of pre-marital, unprotected sex. Can't imagine what the kids of these young people have to be going through....

So, there it is, lame-ville on Thompson....eating healthy, moving around, learning about home improvement that I will only watch from the downside of a ladder.... (Tony fell through the porch roof through the porch ceiling)....he's fine, I'm getting a new porch ceiling though. :)

Now everyone knows what is going on here. Feel free to dwell on someone else's life and I'll keep you updated on my non-events.....Peace out....