Setting the Record Straight

I can't believe it was a week ago. A week ago today (Friday), Cowboy and I were hanging out with Terry and Karen and Daniel and Gina. I wish I knew how to link to Karen's blog, because she did a fairly good job recapping the evening. She was "right on" with the sights we saw, and how good the drinks and meal were. She was a little "O-F-F" on her interpretation of her head in the subway and painting a picture of me as the one causing most of the trouble when we were together. Seriously?!

For the record... SHE is just as misbehaved as I am. Okay - she didn't start to climb the Brooklyn Bridge, nor did she put a cabbage in her coat, but that cabbage was for HER yard...SHE'S the one who wanted one. And apparently, if my friends tell me to jump off a bridge... well...

I did ask Cowboy if I seemed different around Karen, and he said we were "two peas in a pod." He's right. Something comes over me. Free-ness, I guess. (Nice word, huh?)

So... about the Subway. Just thinking about it makes me almost start laughing hard enough to pee my pants. I'm not kidding. I have always told my students on tour that they need to get on and off the Subway quickly, because I don't want anyone getting their head stuck in a subway door, because it would give them a heck of a headache. I've seen people get their torso hit by the doors. Even their hips. But, I am NOT kidding you when I tell you that her HEAD got stuck in the door. I don't even know how she did it. But... somehow... her HEAD, and her HEAD alone, was the point of contact with the doors. And they closed. And stayed their for a few seconds... Terry had already gone out, and Cowboy and I were behind her. Fortunately, she held the door for us... hahahaha... I could hardly stand up for a while. And then we all had to talk about imagining her if the doors HADN'T opened, and what she would look like with her arms and legs flying, one on each side of the door.

Seriously... so funny.

And I didn't get to play the foot pedals during the actual service... Cowboy wouldn't let me out of the pew. I tried. He's stronger than I am.

So, Karen showed you most of the good ones, but I'll add a few more. And, guess what?!?!? Cowboy has given me Carte Blanche to post pictures of him... Woo hoo!!!!

From left to right at Washington Square...


Daniel, Gina, Terry, Karen, Cowboy

I was making dinner Monday night, and Caleigh(Karen and Terry's 8 year old) came into the kitchen. I asked her if she knew where Cowboy was, and she said, "HE's watching i-Carly with me. AND he's reading, too. I can never do both at the same time, but he can." She was so impressed that I told her she could take a picture.


We ate lunch in Little Italy. Because Cowboy is a GREAT sport, he let Karen take a picture WHERE. EVER. SHE. WANTED. TO. Even here.


And then we sat down at the bar to wait for our table and saw this picture.


DO you see it? And then it became a bit of a theme.


Tuesday, Cowboy and I left LI and went back to the City. We had fun, but we sure missed the Hochstedler gang. How LUCKY am I that I have such great friends and a wonderful man and they all LIKE each other?!

Some Clarification

MY Cowboy is NOT the Naked Cowboy some of you may have heard about.

Although BOTH are from Oklahoma, THIS is not my Cowboy...


In case you haven't seen him or heard of him before, he really does call himself the Naked Cowboy. See?


Mine doesn't wear cowboy boots. Or a hat. Or have blond hair. Lots of differences.

Emily and Other Interesting Observations

Namely, Cowboy's bachelorhood is repeatedly confirmed... in all the best fashions.

OK - he DOES have a tree stand. And he is a "real tree" lover - a man after my own heart. And... he even has a cute tree skirt. I thought maybe it could've used an iron, but...

I went out to Ho*by Lobb*y to get a few things to make a wreath for his front door. And while I was at it, I decided I'd get myself stuff for a lasting wreath for my front door. (Since I was making his out of the leftover boughs from the tree).

Every single Christmas item was on sale. Wrapping paper, bows, you NAME it. On sale. 50% off.

So... I got a few more things than I intended.

One was something I've longed for for years, but seemed pointless to have in a house all by myself.


SOOOO cute, don't you think? We call it the whimsical Noel. A bit Dr. Seuss-ey, but we love it. I put it in Cowboy's house, but did tell him I'll take it back if things don't work out... (I don't think he's too worried. Me either)

I bought some Christmas bells to put on the wreaths. Didn't know what I'd do with the other 25 bells. And then I saw Cowboy's tree ornaments...


13 of these bad boys. All red. That's nice.


Here's the angel. She isn't actually missing a hand. It's in there. And he eventually found the wings...


Oh - don't forget THIS one. 12 or 13 ornaments. Period. And yes, all of this ilk.


The bells. They work, right? And Dora came down - (Cowboy's decree, with which I was happy to comply)

As we took out the stockings, I noticed one had an embroidered name on it. I LOVE when stockings are personalized... generally, I prefer when the names embroidered on things belong to the members of the home in which they are. Seems more, I don't know, personal, perhaps.


Huh. Do you see it? "Emily?" That's what I asked. "Who's Emily?" He has but one daughter, and her name isn't close to that...

This is when Cowboy told me that this was a free stocking from a sewing display from where his mom used to work... Yes. True. He is a bachelor.

And then, I start wondering if I am perhaps, bull-dozing on into his life, with all of my "great ideas." He didn't ask for ANY help with decorations, or ideas. But, the sweet, wonderful man said, "Sometimes when you are a bachelor, there are areas of your life that need to be bull-dozed, so they can be started over." (sigh...)


Oh - here's the wreath I made for his door.

As for my wreath... well, it's nice, but it's probably not going to be up. Since my door is blocked by my refrigerator...

Before and After

It's done.

Natural Instincts and I had a little date, this morning. I did my five mile run (in BRUTAL wind, I might add), and then hopped to it.


Before


Here's hoping


In 20 minutes we'll know. I was a little apprehensive about the non-permanent hair color, because I have heard that gray hair can be hard to cover with it. And, I will say, that my gray shows through a little bit.

But... I'm really REALLY glad I did it. And I am going to go permanent.


I asked Cowboy which one he liked better. (Yes, he looked like he was going to stand before a Firing Squad - was that mean of me?) And he said, "Which one do YOU like better?" HAH - I said, "Nope. I asked you first." And he told me he liked it this way better. And I told him I did, too.


So, now I feel like I look as young as I feel.

Decisions

Haven't received the letter. Still waiting. I've called her six times in two days, and left 1 message. But, although she gave me her cell phone number, I still have only called her work phone. I may call her cell phone though, since now that I know there's SOMETHING out there, I want to know what it is. Even if it's "there's nothing to tell." At least I will know I have done all I know to do.

I'm washing the gray outta my hair - I'm going to do a temporary wash, first. This weekend, I think. (Cowboy doesn't know yet - he'll either find out this way, or when I walk out of the bathroom with brown/auburn hair). Here's why: when I look at pictures of myself, I feel old. I'm too pretty to look 50-ish. I have too much energy to let my hair belie who I am. At 50, I may go back. At least now I know where it's at, and what it will look like.

Cowboy could care less. He loves me and thinks I'm beautiful, regardless. I DO care. There is an age difference between us, and my hair makes it more of an issue. To me. Not to him. Seriously - he met me with gray, and thought me attractive. This is all about me. Last night, THREE girl friends pointed out MY own comments to me - about my hair and my concerns about how it made me feel when I spoke about when I saw myself. And one said, "You shouldn't spend time worrying about what you CAN take care of. Life's too short, and that energy could be spent focusing on the Lord." And that reminded me of my friend Mike, who said to me (YEARS ago) "Don't complain about what you can change." And, although I'm not complaining,(REALLY), it bothers me.


So, Clairol... here I come. Please be kind.

Cowboy Tales Vol. 2

It's been awhile since I've posted anything specifically about Cowboy, huh... although he seems to figure into all of my posts, these days. Of which I am a fan.

These are just a few short anecdotes that I want to remember and thought what better way than to share them with you.

Favorite quote of the week. We're going to NYC NEXT Friday (woo hoo!!!) and we'll be spending some time in the City, and then a few days with Karen and BJ (look out, Bridgehampton). Friday night, we're meeting some dear friends of mine, Daniel and Gina Ellis, and Daniel has booked our evening out. He OWNS his own NYC tour company, Show-Me-Tours - if you ever want a trip booked, even just for you and your family, or some friends - this guy is IT!!!! I am dead serious. Well, the place we are starting at is called The Campbell Apartment.


Daniel warned us that tennis shoes aren't allowed (which was good advice, since we'll be walking around all afternoon). The actual dress code says: Smart Casual. To which Cowboy replied, "Does this mean I can wear sweatpants and eyeglasses?"............ still makes me laugh.


I think I've mentioned that my refrigerator is currently in my living room. (And my oven is in my garage) - now there was no moving that darn dishwasher... my belief (and I think Cowboy concurs) is that they put the dishwasher in place, and then placed the counter top over it. There is no tile under there - there's not even any sheet vinyl. After 30 minutes of pulling and scraping his hand and then me seeing the copper tubing jiggling from the wall, we decided it was not coming out. But, we had turned the water off at the faucet before we started. And he had said, "Quarter turn to the left, right?" Well, I don't know if that was correct or not, but it was in my head as being correct once I heard him say it.

SOOOOOOOOOO.... I crawled back behind the fridge to undo the water main from the copper tubing. But, I couldn't figure it out. Fortunately, I have EVERY SINGLE OWNER'S MANUAL to EVERY APPLIANCE LARGE AND SMALL in a small Rubbermaid storage file. (only because it came with the house and I have maintained the tradition - I like systems - give me one, and I will happily operate in it for years). So, I went to retrieve it, and Cowboy hopped on back behind the fridge. So, I had already turned off the water (quarter turn to the left seemed to do the trick - although, truthfully, I kept hearing "Righty tighty, lefty loosey), and so he went to work unscrewing the two parts. He did check with me to make sure I had turned off the water, particularly at the point that some water seemed to be coming out of the pipe. I assured him that I had, and said that perhaps it was leftover water in the tubing. Which, because he trusts me and loves me, he agreed with... which perhaps he shouldn't have (well, not trust me in this one particular instance, although I am a trustworthy soul in general)...


As the water continued to scream out of the tube I think I felt badly... but his face - oh, his dear, funny face... that's a very small tube and I seem to have pretty decent water pressure... at least, it appeared so...

He did get it turned off.

Late Night Phone Call

I got a phone call, last night that I didn't answer. It was an area code I didn't recognize, so I let it go to voice mail, and frankly forgot all about it.

After speaking to Cowboy, I was no longer sleepy (interesting phenomena - when he calls, I am almost ALWAYS asleep or very nearly so - by the time he's ready to fall asleep, I'm wide awake... let's pretend this has NOTHING to do with who the more interesting one is to talk/listen to...)

Anyway - I decided to listen to the Voice Mail, and it was from a lovely lady named Julie, who works for The Village in North Dakota. This was one of the three main stops I made on my Road Trip, last summer. Well, the stop was Bismarck, the place where I was adopted, to see what I could find out. And it was in Bismarck, back in July, that I filed my forms to get the biological parent information ball rolling.

A month later (end of August), I filed the rest of the forms, and began to wait for a letter in the mail, hopefully telling me some sort of non-identifying information. It is considerably more expensive for the Identifying Information, and frankly, if she's dead, that would be a waste of my hard-earned cash.

Every day, Sundays aside, (a bit embarrassing, perhaps, to admit?) I open my mailbox with a bit of hopeful optimism - wondering if today will be the day that I find out if there's anything to find out. Every day there is nothing. That whole "hope disappointed makes the heart sick" deal - day in and day out. I'm not TRYING to torture myself - but every time I open the mailbox, the thought flits through my head, "What if there's a letter from The Village?"

Now, let's talk about non-identifying information: ethnicity, race, medical history, when Biological Parents(BP) were born, level of education, and possibly the reason why. No name, etc.

Let's talk about what my parents were given when they adopted me. A girl. That's it. Probably/possibly/maybe Armenian/Austrian descent.

I'm actually a fan of closed adoptions. I think that the last thing a child needs is to HAVE to think(Which, trust me, they would), "Wait a minute. You're my mom and dad. But THEY'RE my mom and dad, too? Which one is the REAL one?" That's not a place I think a child even needs to go to. However, to know the story of why is not a bad thing, at all. A good thing. A bit of closure, if you will.

So - the voice mail from Julie last night said that she has the letter with my non-identifying information, and it will go out in the mail in the next days...

Yes, I called to see if I could get a copy of it faxed to me. I got her voice mail.

Not sure what I'm thinking/feeling, at this point. On the one hand, I've been waiting forever, so finally, right? On the other hand, I've had this pretty nice little fantasy going about "We loved you, but just knew you needed a better life than what we could offer"... that might not be the case, at all. I've always wanted to thank her for the gift of my parents - but she may not be interested in hearing that, at all. Also, I don't want someone who wants to be like a "second mother" to me. I HAVE a mom AND a dad. And they are amazing. But, still I'd like to know.

And oddly, in the past few weeks, really, I have laid any hopes to rest. So now, we shall see what we shall see.