Can I Just Tell You?

Welcome to Can I Just Tell You?
Thanks for visiting!

Can I just tell you? This whole site needs an overhaul. My goodness! Thank you for visiting, come back again in a few weeks. I still appreciate your support. :)
 
I love your support. So many of you have encouraged me to keep writing all these years. I took a few years off because I wasn't feeling very confident about my skill and self-conscience about my subject matter. I really appreciate your gentle (sometimes haunting) push to get back on the proverbial horse. My favorite thing in the world is making someone laugh, typically at my own expense. It warms my heart to hear that my silly stories have helped you smile or laugh out loud when you felt like that's the last thing you could do.

 

I also really appreciate the support of many boyfriends who read through my entire collection of crazy and still chose to continue dating. I'm not sure if you felt bad for me or found me charming. Regardless, thanks for the encouragement.

 

I'm going to change things up a little bit. As you may have guessed, from some of my posts, I have aspirations of writing a book. (Or two, three, or four… We'll see.) Anyway, all of my stories, up to this point 8/3/15, are true and happened to me. I'm thinking about adding some characters to my stories and playing around with fiction writing. You'll be able to tell the real stories from fiction. I think. ;-)

 

I'm not sure what my books are going to be like, yet. I've always enjoyed reading fiction but, maybe non-fiction is the right path for me. I'm pretty confident with the voice I've developed in telling my silly stories and would like to continue to write in that tone. I know I'm going to start off slow because, as you know, self-discipline has never been one of my stronger qualities. I may try to play around with other subjects, too. Stay tuned.

 

This site is meant to make you laugh through stories that you may be able to relate to whether it's sour love, a cooking disaster, a social faux-pas, etc. So, bear with me as I stumble through my experiences, hopefully, more gracefully than the actual event, but just as funny, and either share the lesson or just make you laugh out loud.

If there's ever a story that really hits your funny bone or makes your day, let me know. I'd love to hear from you.

So, sit back, put on your reading glasses and enjoy.

Please, take a minute to sign my guest book. It seems I have readers from around the world. I'd be more than happy to put you on an update list so you'll know when I have a new post. Cheers!

  

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Friday, February 29, 2008

Beauty Sleep

Can I just tell you? I get terrible anxiety if I’m late for anything which may be surprising to many, particularly, my high school bus driver, my college professors from all of my morning classes, all of my bosses from jobs that required me to be in before 11am, and any friend that planned a breakfast rendezvous. My excuses for being late in the morning are endless.  The bottom line is, I typically hit snooze too many times. I have 3 alarm clocks and I foolishly put them within arm’s distance of my pillow. They’re all fast. The first one that goes off is actually a 3 for 1 deal. It has soothing sounds, a CD player and the radio. I dropped it too many times so I can’t use the soothing sounds before I go to bed or the alarm won’t go off in the morning (that was one of my excuses) which is a bummer because I really liked listening to the ocean before I dozed off.
 

So, anyway, that one is 40 minutes fast. The CD player has trapped my Dr. Weil Sounds of Relaxation which is a shame because it was new and I hadn’t had a chance to record it to my ipod. When I first dropped the alarm, the CD door wouldn’t close so I put an elastic band around it. I got the Dr. Weil CD and had listened in my car first, it seemed to work. The litany of profanities that usually flowed freely during my morning commute had nearly stopped. I decided that it may be almost as good as my ocean waves at night so, I figured I’d give it a shot. I put it in, shimmied the door a little and replaced the elastic, it worked great. Unfortunately, when I fooled with the door, I sealed it, probably forever. The Yankee in me won’t even consider buying another when I can still listen to the one I have, albeit, only in my bedroom.


The third alarm, which is only 20 minutes fast, is the worst. It’s one of those CVS jobs that blare that awful noise. It was given to me by a Secret Santa at a work party. Big joke. That one used to do the trick because the sound was horrendous and I put it far enough from my pillow so I would have to sit up to hit snooze. I didn’t dare turn it off unless I got out of bed and the light was on. Now, it’s under my second pillow so, it’s a little muted and close enough to hit snooze immediately.


Why are they all fast, you ask? Out of habit. I used to rush when the clock read “5 minutes until you need to leave” and hurry to finish getting ready. Now, I know they’re all fast so I don’t even panic when it reads “5 minutes past when you needed to be there” and I’m still in my rollers, wearing a robe perusing through my closet trying to figure out what to wear. You’d think after all these years I’d at least have that part of it down and pick out my ensemble the night before.

I’ve even picked up unthinkable time wasters for my morning routine. I’ve found that I really like to clean in the morning like, vacuum, wash the floors, clean the bathroom, etc and cook, my award winning pasta sauce, for example. Yes, crazy, I know, especially when I have 8am meetings most days of the week.  My internal clock feels like 8am is a good time to roll out of bed instead of being primped, polished and ready to call on the decision maker for the next million dollar deal.

That’s more of a 9:30 quarter of 10 state of being.

Fri, February 29, 2008 | link          Comments

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Dieting

Okay, so, can I just tell you? I’ve been on a diet since Valentine’s Day (1988) and I’ve dropped 3.6 lbs. That isn’t the ‘can I just tell you?’ part though. We have all been on a diet at least once in our lives. Does anyone else get the insatiable urge to eat anything that won’t eat you once you’ve claimed out loud you’re on a diet?


So, it began at Soulfire with me mistaking James Brown for Fats Domino. Big mistake. Apparently, rock, rocks out, typically, on a 2 or 4 beat, James, hits it on the 1st beat which makes him so unusual. If that doesn’t make sense to you, good, I didn’t get it either. This nugget of information was explained to me by the owner/a bass player. Now, ask me anything about Christina Aguilera and I can tell you. In fact, if I could be anyone for a day it would be her, during a world tour, of course. I digress… Anyway, I was at a going-away party for a no-show. (That’s a whole other story. Who doesn’t show up for their own going-away party?) The conversation then led to sports, another strong topic of mine.  Seriously, you’d think working at a sports station would give me a little more insight and some working knowledge of teams around the leagues. Nope, all I know is, I like to go to games and get on the Jumbotron, hopefully, not while I’m eating. Which is hard to avoid these days.
 

For example, I NEVER eat chicken wings in public. Yes, sadly, I am one of those. And, I certainly don’t buy them to take home and cook. (I am tempted though when wearing my “Kiss me I’m Greek” apron.) Well, I just looked at those things on the bar and, even though I knew I didn’t really want any…I had to have them. I inhaled three big ones and washed them down with beer.


Now, some of you may know that I work at a ball park (speaking of beer) throughout baseball season. What automatically goes with baseball? Besides beer… hotdogs. I see and smell hotdogs almost 81 times a year. If I never see or smell another hotdog in my life, that would be okay with me. Why then, once I declare myself on a diet, do I see a man walking down the street with something that slightly resembles a hotdog, start to salivate? All of a sudden, I felt, with all of my soul, that I needed to eat a hotdog with mustard and relish in a squishy bun. What’s up with that?


In fact, everything makes me salivate. I’m not that into pastry (thank God because I’m surrounded by it). In fact, I typically find parking right in front of Maria’s Pastry, the home of the To-Die-For Risotto Pie.  For the past two years that I’ve been parking there, not once did I ever go in for a little snack.  Not once, until I declared the diet.  Now, every time I walk by, the little voice in my head starts to whisper, “you know you want to…just go in, get a cannoli or pistachio cookie, oooh…tiramisu…”


I am now consumed with trying to stay within my point allotment for the day. If I go over my points then I have to make up for it with a workout that lasts at least 50 minutes and makes me sweat 5 minutes into the routine.  I am not a sweater! If I start sweating it’s because I have WAY overexerted myself.


Also, when do I ever eat a big candy bar? Never. I’ll eat several little candy bars that typically add up to a big candy bar & more but that’s entirely different. Everyone knows if it isn’t bigger than your baby finger it doesn’t count.


Just for the record, a full size Kit Kat is 5 points. I had one right before the wings.

Wed, February 27, 2008 | link          Comments


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