Deuces

Hi Friends. Sorry for the lack of blogs. We have friends visiting us from the UK and are taking this time to entertain. =O) Please check back after Saturday when you can get a whiff of the goings-on in Camshaft world. Peace, Love, and Carbs- CD

I love being married. I have a great husband. Lucky, lucky me. But I also love my past. I appreciate the long list of risks I have taken in life and love. I remember some downright questionable relationships and dating escapades that I probably could have survived without. I look at my friends and family members who have dated their high school sweethearts and had children with them. I admire the longevity of their love and devotion. With this admiration comes the understanding that it was not the path for me. I had many frogs to kiss. I have quite the extensive dating portfolio and.... that is okay. While I smile warmly on the first and lasting love people have with their mates, I can say I have been in love at least 4 times, and I am pretty happy with that number. There are others in my life that I might have fallen in love with had I been ready or willing to allow myself to be completely smitten. Wonderful people who were in my life at the wrong time. But, as often say... "

Today I sat in a bungalow lined with computers and busy professors. I was speaking with instructors about their curriculum, student enrollments, and upcoming educational conferences. It was a relatively typical work day. I began to converse with one of the adjunct (part-time) instructors. He had been poring over a student's essay with his red pen ready to critique this particular student's work. I confessed to him that watching him correct papers made me nervous. He laughed and I immediately knew he probably thought I was flirting. I felt the need to clarify. I confessed that for 7 years I was a nervous, stressed-out student. I was juggling work and college education and the road was long and, at times, lonely. Deadlines, due dates and tuition expenses coupled with being in and out of some very exciting (and some downright turbulent) relationships had me going through the motions of life like a drone at times. It was worth it, absolutely. But it still made me nervous and stress

Although it is early yet (7:15 a.m.) I feel a sense of purpose for the day. It is a typical fall work day, driving to one of my college accounts and yet inside I feel an extra sense of determination. It was 9 years ago on this day that my father left us. It is strange and wonderfully sad that life moves on when we let go of those we love most. Today I woke up bright-eyed and bushy tailed, determined. I started the morning with a cup of coffee and online bill paying. As I sat at my computer screen I heard a scuffle downstairs. 20 minutes ago I managed to free a bird from the clutches of my cat's mouth. I chased it back and forth between the family room and kitchen. An attractive baby bird with its life ahead. He finally saw the open window whose screen pryed loose easily under my morning chilled hands. As he fluttered away, I thought of my father. I thought of the bird. 9 years ago today I could not breathe as I watched life slip away. Today, I watched life carry on. Today

Lloyd and I had a wonderful weekend hanging out with friends. The weather was warm and beautiful as we sat around a pool watching children splashing in their colorful air-filled flotation devices and swimsuits. I loved Saturday, hanging out with friends that I met in junior high. Oh yes.... junior high. We talked about what bad kids we were, yet still completely innocent. We used to walk around all hours of the night just for the sake of walking around and staring into the houses of people we knew and thought we were in love with, even at the tender age of 12 and 13. We were all trying to figure out how our parents allowed us to roam so freely, and we never really came up with an answer to that... My husband huddled in a corner with the male figures, which I always find funny about social gatherings and parties. Mens voices go deeper, and they all drink beers in unison and form a semi-circle or full circle in which, it seems, women must not enter. Anytime Lloyd and I go somewhere tog

Wise people often suggest that if you don't have anything nice to say, then you shouldn't say anything. That is much the reason I haven't blogged the last few days. I am trying to get through a tough week. I don't like to play victim, so I won't blog for the sake of reassurances. Let's just skip past that, shall we? It might be my suppressed immune system leeching into my brain, causing me to think things are worse than they are. A gnarly head cold that lead into sleepless nights where I refused to take medicine because I am a stubborn brat caused me to feel out of sorts. An angry customer who made me feel small was the first call I got when I got back to work on Tuesday morning. He was one of those condescending mean dudes who has a foreign accent. Not an annoying accent, something more like Eastern European with an air of "I am so smart in 3 languages". He used big words that he probably assumed I didn't understand. Sometimes I play along bec

Kids do some dumb stuff. Let's just put it out there and be blatantly honest. You and I were both dumb kids ourselves at one point or another, and in those dumb moments, someone more mature was saying, either aloud or in their head "Man, that kid is dumb." Dumb stuff is jumping from something onto or into something else without fully understanding the number of ways the jump could go bad. Dumb stuff is sticking stuff in your ears, having a tea party with your grandmother's good China, and shoplifting. Other dumb stuff includes sneaking out of your parents' house and setting up pillow dummies without knowing just how badly it will hurt when your dad finds out and pulls your hair in front of all the police set out to find you. You are wondering whether I am speaking about myself, and the answer is, mmm, yea. Some of it is me. Some of it is dumb people I acquaint myself with. Kids in particular do some pretty dumb stuff. I was destined for dumbness since infancy, and

One of the things I love most about my girlfriends is how vulnerable and honest we can be with one another. We can share our sadness as readily as our triumphs. We talk about grown-up stuff like mortgages over margaritas and Mexican food. We talk about work and the economy, our family relationships, the men we love and the men that have scorned us. One of the things we might stumble on in these chats about relationships is the all too sleazy topic of cheating. Who's doing it, who isn't? Well, none of us, of course! But so-and-so and so-and-so, and some might reflect on what it felt like at one point to be cheated on themselves. For some girls, it's that punch-in-the-stomach shocker. The "I can't believe this is happening..." moving to the stage where "I should have known..." I admire the mature ones who have been able to dust their shoulders off, hold their head high, and say "You weren't worth it anyway....". Then t

She knows chocolate is what they call fattening. She knows you aren't supposed to eat past 7. She knows bikini's look better without chocolate laden hips oozing out the sides. She knows that no matter how long she stares at the back of the chocolate ice-cream carton the calorie count won't somehow change. She will look at the ingredients and see if she can justify the fat content by saying its "good fats". She will stare at those ingredients and allow herself to forget the main subject "chocolate is fattening" and ponder whether "all natural" might translate into "holy mother of sexy body!" She will lick the spoon and, if even remotely successful, put the lid on the carton and refrain from eating the whole 4 servings. "4 servings?" She will ask. The head tilts sideways, staring at space, carton still in hand. This is the look of quick calculations being done in the head. She allows the sinking realization to settle fo

It is 7:57 a.m. which means my BFF, my comadre and road dogg por vida is having her baby. This is Maria bringing Seleste into the world. I am anxious to see the baby girl and see if she will have a full head of curly locks like the premonition dream or have little to no hair like her sister, Katelyn. Maria and I are almost polar opposites in many ways. She is quiet and reserved and if you know me than you know it is generally hard to get me to shut-up. She thinks with her heart where I use statistics to guide my decisions. She is faithful where I am flaky, and she has been destined for motherhood since I met her at age 11. 7th grade without a freakin' clue. We met in chorus along with several other BFF's that I am still close with today. We thought we were cholas for about 4 hours. I can say with certainty that neither of us were blossoming during those awkward 2 years of Junior High. Some of us thought we were so cool to be "Peer Leaders" which I think, at