You Get More Bees With Honey

Just saying.

With age, comes wisdom. With wisdom, comes understanding.

I have come to realize a pure and simple fact. You do, indeed, get more bees with honey than you do vinegar. Much of my job consists of phone conversations with different people. This morning, I found that I was bracing myself as I dialed the number to one particular place.  That's because, in general, the people who I have to talk to are grumpy and abrasive. They certainly are not excited to talk to me, and they also tend to act as if I am putting them out when I ask a question. This morning, however, was different. The person who answered the phone was not only courteous and helpful, he was actually friendly. Friendly?! I couldn't believe my ears!

So I've decided this person was the honey and I was the bee. And in the next instant, I was the honey and he was the bee. It made the conversation roll smoothly. We were even tossing around such blasphemous words as, "No problem!", "Take your time!", "Thanks so much!"...... Unheard of.

It made me get to thinking. How often am I responsible for being the vinegar instead of the honey? Probably more than I would like to admit. However, as many of you know, there are things that happen in my life everyday that make me stand up and pay attention. This is one of them. Friendly exchanges beat out acriminous ones anyday of the week. At least through my eyes they do.


The Question Is,



Are You The Vinegar or The Honey?

This Thing Called Life..

I had the best start to the morning. My day started off just like any other - with Teddy Pendergrass singing "Wake up Everybody" in my ear. Somehow his voice wills me to wake up. I mean, he does tell me that there is no more sleeping in bed allowed. So I'm now showered, dressed, etc etc. And then I'm off to work with Driver Lloyd, with a quick stop at my favorite winter time coffee shop (Yes, I also have a favorite summer time coffee shop).

It was here that my day brightened up even more. While I do have to give credit to the shop everyday for making me happy - with their delish Vanilla Hazelnut, mmmm mmmmm - this morning it was something other than just coffee. I ran into an old friend, actually my old neighbor. We lived just a few houses down from the coffee shop, and our friend Sam lived right next door. Sam loved us kids growing up, and always checked in to see how we were doing. When we were small, he would leave us fun presents and treats and there was always a Christmas card.  It's been quite some time since we moved from that house, and I don't run into Sam all that often anymore.

So it was a great surprise when I glanced over and saw Sam, waiting for his morning coffee and paper. We had a great chat - he asked all about how I was, how my family was. He asked that scary question, "How old are you know?" -26. He couldn't believe it! I think I was 3 when I moved in next door. I filled him in on how I'm back around town, working, and even going to law school at night. He was super excited for me. Unfortunately, I had to get to work and cut our chat short.

The smallest things can turn a day around, make your morning better, or even change the course of your week. Be kind to your elders, always hold the door for people, and say please and thank you.
We each only have one life - so take advantage of its perks.

After All,

Life is Too Short

Sentiments From The Number 7

Yikes. Was I in for a surprise this morning, or what! Now, as you already know, Lloyd usually shoots me into work in the morning. But on this particularly crispy fall day, he had a job interview (wooo! good luck Lloyd!) And Option #2, also known as Doc Lloyd, had some more important things to tend to. And thus, I was left to take the bus.

Now, I'm not a bus snob. I have taken the T my whole life, starting with adventurous rides as a freckly faced little kid. Thinking of that, it seems crazy that it was considered perfectly acceptable for our parents to let their kids take the T into town at 11, 12 years old. No cell phones, no pagers, just a group of kids on a wild ride. Those were the days when the buses had windows that you could pull open and shout out to people you knew who were walking down the street. Weren't our parents worried? Apparently not. I miss those days:)

So, my routine is - get a ride into work, take the bus home from work. This usually works out perfectly - I don't have to rush around like crazy in the morning, and I get to relax on the way home, listen to headphones or chat with my cohorts from work.  This taking the bus in the morning thing is on a whole other level.

First off, I had to stand on the corner, clutching my coffee, and watch as packed number 7's passed me by. Well, I guess I won't exactly be on time today! Blah Blah. Then I started looking around me, and wondering who all these people are. I think I recognized one out of 77 people stuffed like sardines into the bus. It was ca-ra-zzyyyyyy. I had no idea that this was going on everyday! Who knew?!

Anyway, even though it was a busy, bumping bus, I managed to snag a prime seat. Don't worry, there were no old peeps on the bus (because of course I would've gotten up). I checked out the selection on my ipod and picked what I thought would be a good start to my day. It was a good one, got me in an even better mood than I was already in, and I suddenly realized it was Friday. Bingo! I love when things spontaneously hit me - there's nothing better than a happy realization.

Because now that I know it's Friday, I'm excited for the weekend. Fact. Weekends are a semi-retreat for me -- I get to do what I want (while of course getting all my studying done), and I just get to be me.  I enjoy each day as it comes to me, because I am extremely aware that I might not have one tomorrow. I suggest you all do the same :) Enjoy the weekend my amigos! And amigas!

Because After All,

Gratitude Is The Key To Our Happiness

Throwback Thursday

So I've heard through the grapevine that there has been a reappearance of the Jordan Marsh Muffins. I shuffled into work this morning with my super large coffee, plopped down at my desk, and listened intently to the excitement I heard all around me. I couldn't believe my ears. Now, although I am not of the age to have ever personally enjoyed these Jordan Marsh Muffins, I have heard lots of reminiscing about them over the years. Particularly from my Grammy. I think this might warrant a field trip this weekend. Big things these days for me!

Speaking of throwbacks - I had a special surprise waiting for me last night. Now, to preface this story - I have been very, very good all week long at my new found exercise routine and maintaining good eating habits. I even ate a clementine yesterday. A CLEMENTINE. Yes, you heard right. I had a fabulously healthy day at work, followed by some light snacking at class, and came home feeling fresh and upbeat. (The B+ on my paper might have helped -- toot tooting my own horn). Suffice it to say, I had a great day. Do you want to know what I came home to?

I opened the freezer. And there it was. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. The light coming from the freezing was like the heavens shining down on me. Damn it. I had worked so hard all week. But I knew it was inevitable - I couldn't control myself. I had to have it. I will say, I gave it the ol' college try-- I went in my room, tried to ready myself for bed. But the thought of that delicious chocolate ice cream - now, not just any ice cream, but Brighams Ice Cream - kept wafting into my brain. Doc Lloyd certainly knows how to pick em. Brigham's is like amazing, vintage ice cream - you can hardly find it anywhere anymore, so when you do - it would practically be a sacrilege to pass it up.

So i ate it. Shoot me.

After All,

Isn't There Always Tomorrow?

His name is really Lloyd?!?

So everyday of the week, rain or shine, snow or sleet, my favorite brother Lloyd (real name? not real name? hmmm) drives me into work. Now, Lloyd does not enjoy this daily chore one bit.  He has never actually voiced this opinion to me, but I'm drawing my own conclusion based on what I see every morning. You would think I asked the kid to drive me to China.

He does not like to talk. I, if you know me, love to talk. Sometimes I like to bring random things up, ask Lloyd questions about how his life is going, what he's going to do to. Mainly these questions are returned with death stares and inaudible responses. The best days are when he makes me drive myself and snoozes away the drive in the passenger seat.

Another one of his best moves? If he really, really doesn't want to get up and drive me - he bribes me.  When I wake up bright and early, there is a fun little yellow sticky note slid under my door with $10, $13, even $20. It says:
              "You can keep this if you ask Dad to drive you".
Woooohooooo for me! Not only do I still get the ride (other option is the bus. thumbs down) but I get paid?! Seems like a pretty fair trade to me.  The downside? Doc Lloyd (hmmmm) started catching on and telling me that he didn't think it was fair that I kept the whole bribe for myself - that if this was going down, and he had to drive me, he wanted in. Major thumbs down. I have, however, avoided giving him his share. I'm sure after he reads this, I will no longer be able to make this claim.

Occasionally, Lloyd is in a surprisingly happy mood for 8am. This usually happens when he has some fun exciting thing coming up. Take for example, his upcoming trip to Foxwoods (oh baby). He was in a goooood mood telling me about that. And then we bond over our love of Matty in the Morning.

I was going to finish with "Good thing Lloyd doesn't know about this blog, he'd be real pissed that I wrote about him". But instead I remembered. Lloyd does know - I told him on Monday, in the ride to work. You think he remembers?

Thank you my favorite brother Lloyd. I actually really appreciate the ride every day. Even if you are a grump.

Because after all,

What Would We Do Without Brothers?

Bumpy and I

My blurb for the morning is dedicated to my oldest bestie in the world. She has a perfectly good name that suits her well, but for the purposes of my blog, she will always be known as Bumpy.  Not only is Bumpy my oldest friend, she is also my very first follower.
(<-----It's true. See to the left).

Bumpy and I have been friends from the womb, we like to say. Although I'm not sure as to the accuracy of this - Did our mothers rub their bellies against each other's and this is how we communicated? Hmmm. I do know that as soon as they popped us out, it was pretty much set. We were ready to be besties for life.
The fun thing about Bumpy and I is that we have lots of fun stories - some appropriate and some not. I like to reminisce about when our mothers would get together to drink wine and watch Phil Donahue, while they plunked us down at the yellow Fisher Price picnic table and fed us Spaghettios. Best part about this? They needed to evenly split up the meat-a-balls so we didn't get mad at each other. Bumpy also claims that on one of these occasions, I pushed her down the stairs (also claiming that I forever altered her). I deny this allegation.

For your pleasure, here are some fun tidbits from our hilarity of a friendship:

*My mother stuck bows on my head. Bumpy's mum gave her a bowl cut.

*Bumpy repeatedly broke bones as a child. One of these times may or may not have been when she was Irish Stepping in the shower and slipped on the soap.

*Bumpy had a Starter Jacket. I didn't, and I was jealous.

*Bumpy and I stuck our little sister and brother in a room, and made them kiss. They're now besties. You're welcome.

*Bumpy and I spent our summers at overnight camp. She made me sleep on the top bunk for fear of falling out. She still fell out of the bottom. (As a side note, Bumpy's mum also wrapped her outfits in plastic for each day)

As much as I would like to carry on, I fear spilling all of the fun little details of Bumpy and I. So I stop here.

After all,

Isn't It Better To Save The Best For Last?

After all, It's Not Easy Being the Queen

You see, my mum bought me this plaque. It had to have been ages ago, because now that I'm trying to recall the actual time frame..... I forget. The mere fact that I forget is making me realize that I have officially jumped off the deep end, and dove straight into the deep dark pool of adulthood. Yes, that's right. I am now an official adult - old enough to say such horrid things as "Twenty years ago..." , "Well, when I was a kid...".


I don't what I thought as a child - I figured that these utterings would forever be reserved for the old people. And god damn it - I think I've become one. I know, I know... To all the old peeps out there who might happen upon this thingofamajig that I'm writing, I fully realize that being the ripe old age of 26 doesn't actually qualify me as an old person (I can just imagine my grandparents - either set, take your pick - staring at me and demanding "what the hell is a blog?!") I have also realized that mouths get filthier with age, which is why I apologize in advance for any offense you might take to my truck driver mouth. Sorry......


Oh, who the hell am I kidding. I have a truck driver mouth and I embrace it. I'm actually not sorry at all. wink;)


Back to my original thought (yes, I did have one). I had this fantastic blog name - I was already imagining how nifty and creative people would say I was, envisioning the compliments being thrown my way. I was so excited! I entered in the name, and you can imagine my horror when the little red print showed up "name already taken". I instantly deflated. Even the stuffed animals on my bed looked like they felt bad for me.  So I pouted a little bit and felt bad for myself for a minute. Then thought. And thought. And thought....

So I've been throwing this blog thing around for awhile. You know, not that I don't have enough on my plate.  Not only do I work a faboosh full time job, I spend my nights drinking coffee and trying extra hard to become a lawyer. I have also recently decided that attending night school has turned my exercise and eating habits into shit, and I have become a real life fattyboombalatty (as my grammy says - don't tell her I told you). So today, Monday November 15th - with three weeks until final exams implode upon my life, I have decided to not only pick the ol' exercise thing back up,but I've also decided to write my own fancy shmancy blog. And as I sit here on my fluffy bed and try oh so desperately to figure out the ever perfect blog name, it all becomes clear.....




Because after all,


It's Not Easy Being the Queen.