Locked Out

As time continues to pass since the last time I have seen Jeff, the more absent-minded and scatter-brained I become. I have noticed it is getting progressively worse and today I exemplified the epitome of it. Or, at least I hope!

I noticed a downfall on my morning drives to school. Each morning when I headed to work last year, I was in the car to hear a secret bonus word. This bonus word could be turned in for points on the radio station's website and eventually can earn you prizes. Oddly enough, on my drive home in the afternoon, I hear another secret bonus word. So, with that, I figured I should sign up and pop these words in for prizes. And,   I did. Each day I would hear the words and have no problems remembering when I signed on to plug them in. In fact, I seemed to remember them for weeks. The word, the day they were chosen, and the exact times they were given. I have that weird kind of Rain Man memory sometimes.

As this school year has progressed, I have found it harder and harder to remember the words that I hear on my morning drive. In fact, I started forgetting it by the time I got out of the car that same morning. This was a warning signal that I am slowly losing my mind, much like morning sickness is a warning sign of pregnancy.

Today, however, went well beyond forgetting the secret bonus words. In fact, I actually remembered the secret bonus words today. Both of them, couple and ice. I popped them into the website and declared that I must be having a good day!

My uncle always likes to not only shut the garage door, but lock the door that goes into the mud room. Hoping to please him, I try to do this as well. So, when I stepped out to take Shea for a ride, I made sure to lock the garage door before leaving. To my surprise, I went to get in my car and I was locked out. My keys were not in my bag where I was expecting them to be. Luckily, the garage has a password. Being the coldest day of the season so far, I was not about to sit outside in 25 degrees. Shea and went in the garage and tried to entertain ourselves while I sifted through my non-existant options.

Freezing to death crossed my mind, as I knew my uncle was going out to dinner tonight. He wouldn't be home for hours. My phone came in handy, and so did my saint of a mother, who offered to drive down and pick me up. While waiting for her, to my surprise, the garage door began to open. My uncle had, moments earlier, made the decision to change out of his work clothes and into jeans before he went out to dinner. God bless the man! Shea and I were saved!

I would love to say that I will never make that mistake again, but with my frame of mind, you never know. Jeff keeps me sane. Currently, I am not!

He Got My Wheels Turning

I knew it was not good when I got a message from Jeff that said, "Alicia Kaye Ventresca." Immediately reading into it, he used my maiden name. He must be mad! So mad, he can't even think of me as his wife at this moment. Uh oh. My mind starting spinning, replaying the last few days in my head. What have I done wrong?

Sorting through my weekend, I could not find anything worth being upset over. Then, with panic setting in, I began twisting everything that I did. Was there any way he could be mad that I went shopping with my mother? Was it wrong of me to go watch the Siena College basketball game last night? I was at a loss. Really, this was a good thing, I hadn't done anything wrong.

Being 450 miles away, I think there is very little that I can actually do to make Jeff mad. Looking back at our 2 year marriage and our total of nearly eight years together, the things that I have done to make Jeff mad, are fairly impossible from our positioning on the globe.

For example, Jeff hated when I left laundry in the dryer. It was to be folded immediately. Well, I cannot do Jeff's laundry from here, so I cannot leave Jeff's finished laundry in the dryer. Jeff got mad when I showed up places late. I didn't do it often, but it was really bothersome to him, not only because it shows lack of respect for others' time, but he would get worried. Jeff didn't like when I washed the glasses carelessly and they had fingerprints on them. My uncle could careless, he is just happy someone is doing his dishes! And, he did not like when I let the gas tank get too low. Personally, I did it because I like when he pumped the gas for me!

Thinking about these things, I was sure there was no way he could be mad at me over any of them. It would be nearly impossible unless he was having some sort of flashback. Although I had confidence that I hadn't made any grave mistakes, my stomach was churning. Undoubtedly he was mad, he called me by my full-maiden name.

Turns out, he was fooling around. He just wanted to get me going. He succeeded. These are the times I wish he was closer so I could deck him!

A Bad Seat

I went to watch my little cousin play basketball today. She is eight years old, in third grade. This was big time basketball folks!

I, of course, went over to sit with her father during the game. Minutes before tip-off, her grandmother walked in and joined us. I was told this does not happen often. They usually sit on opposite sides of the gym. Apparently I was the uniting force here! Not a good thing to be! Never, I mean never, sit between a mother-in-law and a son-in-law. There is absolutely no way it will go well!

Take a moment to close your eyes and picture the most extreme parent at a biddy basketball game. Now envision the grandmother who lives in a fantasy world where all the children hold hands and sing cumbaya. I was sitting between them! Each time either of them opened their mouth, the other shot daggers through me to get the archenemy. When they had disagreements, which occurred much more frequently than baskets made, they both looked to me to support their point of view. What was I to do? In all honesty, I didn't agree with either of them. The extremist father who expects 8 year olds to play flawless basketball is absurd. And the la-la land grandmother who gets upset over one girl taking the ball from another because it isn't polite is certainly not getting my appraisal. So, I did what any normal, open-minded individual would do, I sat there and stared straight ahead, acknowledging neither of them.

Sadly, I could not wait until the game was over so I could talk to the only sane person I knew in that gym, my 8 year old cousin. She enjoys basketball, and she really enjoys the lollipops her coach gives her after each game. She doesn't like that her team lost, but she still had fun in the game. She thinks it is pretty cool that she wears the same number I did when I played, 22.

I hope that I have a happy balance when I have children that play basketball. This whole scene makes me wonder how Jeff will handle it. He has trouble watching bad basketball, and when kids are just learning, it is bad. There is no way around it. Even if he is the extremist father, I know I won't have the delusional grandmother on the other side! That will make it somewhat more bearable!

Happily Bruised Up

In the shower this morning, I noticed bruising in a number of spots along my arms. Did I fall and forget? Was I abused and let it slip my mind? No. I played basketball last night.

 

When I say I played basketball last night, boy, did I play basketball. It was one of those nights where the basket seems liked the ocean. Anything I threw up, went in. Well, not anything, but you get the point. After the first night of basketball, the men have openly accepted me into their league and have no problems playing with me. They don't take it easy on me, however, they do not get overly physical running into me or hitting me.

Last night, a new guy showed up. He knew some of the guys, but this was his first time coming to play. Boy, was he unhappy about a girl hitting shots and winning games. He decided in the second game, that he was going to have none of it! He took over guarding me and had a look of fury in his eyes. I knew as soon as I got the ball, he was going to try to swat it away. So, once I got the ball, I faked my shot, he charged at me and flew through the air. As he was soaring by me, I passed to a guy underneath the basket for a layup. The rest of my night, aside from making all of my shots, was dedicated to make this man's night a living hell.

After stealing the ball from him, his rage raised to new heights. I'm not really sure why this man has missed all of the previous weeks of basketball, but if I were to guess, it was because he was in jail. His face had a thickened, worn look to it, like he spent many nights laying awake on his cot. His tattooed arms appeared to have done several push-ups while passing the time in his cell. And, he acted like he was fueled up on the abundance of bread they feed as prison meals. I hear they get lots of starches in prison. As this man was fuming, I began to wonder why on earth I had set out to humiliate him. I should have picked someone else. God only knows what this man is capable of!

Needless to say, I was knocked around a little more last night than the average Thursday. But, bumps and bruises are nothing too unfamiliar with me. I was a scrappy player, always diving and falling. I spent much of my time on the ground, and happily so.

Look closely at my knees. Can you see them? Here, this is a picture of what they looked like on a regular basis.

So, you see, a few little arm bruises aren't too bad for me. Isn't Jeff a lucky guy? He has a girl that takes such good care of her body and really prides herself on obtaining her appearance. Oh well, I guess bruising is part of the package with me!

Loosey Goosey

There was a report released today about sexting. What is sexting you ask? It is when people text message each other in a sexual manner, whether it be dirty talk, sending compromising pictures, or even videos. The study released found that over a quarter of teenagers are participating in these practices. Mind you, 13 and 14 year olds are considered teenagers. They probably account for a large percentage of teens not doing this. 

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34257556/ns/technology_and_science-tech_and_gadgets?GT1=43001

Can you imagine the repercussions of sexting? How many high school relationships actually work out? How many lead to marriage and life happily ever after? One in a bazillion, if that. So, yea guys, good idea, lets send naked pictures to a boyfriend or girlfriend that you are inevitably going to break up with. Are they going to just delete those pictures once you break up? Any kind, lighthearted high school student would do that. Actually, no, they certainly wouldn't. Most break-ups are for a reason. A reason that deserves retaliation. What better way to retaliate than sending those sexting pictures to anyone and everyone? 

I was a big prude in high school so I can't even imagine doing this. It took a lot of me to even hug a person I called a boyfriend. Holding hands made me sweat and anything further made me shake. I remember my first boyfriend going in for a kiss and actually ducking. It was pretty awkward. So awkward that two days later I had to pull the plug on that week long relationship. Now a days, it seems like that week would constitute naked sexting photos, whether they are at the holding hands stages yet or not. 

When their sexting messages get spread throughout their school and town, these teens are then surprised when they are called derogatory names. I mean, in high school, I thought girls who made out with more than one boy in a month were a little too loosey goosey. And in my world loosey goosey was not a good thing! 

As I married woman, I feel that I have the right and safety net to actually send sexts. However, I do wonder if there are any glitches out there, where these can get into the wrong hands. Hopefully, those glitches won't include Jeff passing them along. To be safe, I will stay away from the whole scene. Prude! 

A Miracle Worker

About two weeks ago, I tweeked my back. The pain quickly spread to my hip and shot down the inside and outside of my right leg. It was painful to run, and seemingly more painful to walk. So, I finally sucked it up and visited a chiropractor today.

I went in praying for a quick fix, but realizing that that was highly unlikely. I was pleasantly surprised as my chiropractor, Dr. Jerry, turned out to be a miracle worker! I now consider the little building that houses his office to be on the same level as the Garden of Eden.

After a few minutes of cracking and readjusting, I literally skipped out Dr. Jerry's office pain free. Overwhelmed with elation, I giggled, screamed, slapped the steering wheel, clapped my hands, and talked to myself the whole car ride home. I have met a real live miracle worker.

With my new discovery, I am thinking that rather than sending letters to Santa, people ought to send letters to Dr. Jerry. He obviously has powers beyond those of the average human. So I have created a list of other miracles I would like Dr. Jerry to deliver for me.

Dear Dr. Jerry,

I have been a good girl this year. I am asking for the following:

1. Peace on Earth. If anyone can do it, it is you!

2. $10 million to unexplainably appear in my bank account.

3. To be young forever.

4. For laundry to do itself, fold itself, and put itself away.

5. To be able to slam dunk.

6. For the cold weather to forget to come this year.

7. For Cleveland, Ohio and Albany, New York to be neighboring cities.

I will leave out a glass of milk and cookies for you.

Thanks,

Alicia

There it is, my list of miracles. Even if they are not possible, I gladly accept feeling like a new woman, for I can get back to the things I love.

Running:

Chasing Shea: 

Playing basketball: 

And singing emphatically to my husband: 

In a Fit of Rage

On my drive to work this morning, the morning show DJ's declared that they were absolutely positive that Tiger Woods' wife, Elin, was attacking him with a golf club when his now infamous accident occurred early Friday morning. I thought this was quiet an assertion considering few confirmed details have been released, and Tiger has been so hush-hush. I will not say that I agree or disagree, as I am completely at a lose for what may have happened that morning.

The hosts went on to discuss how in a fit of rage, people are capable of unthinkable things. Thinking Elin was enraged by the infidelity claims, she lost it and attacked. Could be. But, really, Tiger and Elin are the only people who know for sure, and it looks like they aren't talking!

This segment really got me thinking. What do people do in those moments of rage? What are people surprisingly capable of? So, I searched my memory bank to find the most ridiculous examples of pure rage that I could. What I found was pretty impressive!

First, there was a girl I knew in high school. When she found out he cheated on her, she came up with a plan. One day, for fun in this high school relationship, they had played dress up. The boyfriend had dressed up in girls clothing. Of course, this was a great opportunity for a photo-op. A photo-op that was strictly to stay between the boyfriend and girlfriend. With the discovery of cheating, the girlfriend dug out those pictures and scattered them around the school; taping them on lockers, posting them in bathroom stalls, and throughout the cafeteria. The boyfriend was completely humiliated.

In college another guy got caught cheating on his girlfriend. She was furious! She decided the best way to retaliate was to take a picture of herself in a compromising position with another man. Her thinking here was, "look what you are missing!" How do you think this went over? Not so well! This was a terrible decision on her part. For once the guy got the picture, he wrote a message on the back saying, "I am having so much fun in college," and forwarded the picture onto her parents. I'm sure her parents appreciated the inside scoop on the education their daughter was really getting.

The last example I could think of was a married couple. The wife, again, had caught her husband cheating. She even found his car out in front of his mistresses home. With this, she got in the car and slit his leather seats. She then went home and proceeded to clean all of the toilets in her house with her husband's tooth brush. Only to place it back in the tooth brush holder as if it had never been touched. Needless to say, this relationship ended not so peacefully.

With these thoughts running through my mind, I have begun to wonder what I would be capable of. Probably not much. I have pretty good self control. Plus, Jeff is not the average man. He's much, much better!