3 wise men?

Today is Three Kings Day, the day the Magi arrived or the Epiphany, having lived in Latin America and having worked for a Catholic School, I have celebrated this day many times over.

However, this year, I sit at home watching Hoda and Kathie Lee, looking for a new job on-line (yeah, because there ARE tons of jobs out there) and waiting for the Alarm company to show up and install an alarm system, in my recently burglarized home.

I have not blogged in a long time, I have a bad case of the BLAH'S and if you know me, well, sometimes my BLAH's are rather severe.

I will be catching up with you all soon, and telling you all about the horrible, hysterical things that have been going on in my life.

But for today, 3 kings day I leave you with this greeting card that my friend and neighbor Mary (the coolest Senior Citizen I know!) sent me:

Texts from last night

I am sure many of you have heard or even visited the site- texts from last night. It is basically a compilation of texts that college kids, 20 somethings, singles send each other in an inebriated state. Yeah, I know, not that funny when you are 38, have kids, are married and have every other responsibility there is to have in the world.

Well, not really funny until last night. Last night you ask? Yes, last night was a GNO (for those you don't speak the lingo- Girls Night Out) Well, since I have been on this killer diet and not had a drink in forever, my plan was to have 2 cocktails and tuna tataki at dinner, that was it.

Suffice to say- THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN! The plan was to meet at my house at 7 and all go from there. Some people were late (I blame the night on them) 2 bottles of wine were polished off before we even left the house at 9:30. There were 5 of us and 1 was the designated driver, you do the math. I had 1 drink with dinner, but by that point I had already texted my GF (who was working) "I'm wated" that's drunky for wasted. Her response- YESSSSSSS! That's how we roll.

We then went to the bar across the street, it was packed, the music sucked and it was full of weird men and young bimbos. We had an awesome time. At some point we, started texting one of the girls husbands.

A lot of "we're totally wasted MOFO" and a little "get ready for ur horny wife f*cker" that sort of intellectual banter, I am so famous for. He of course, replied all sorts of silliness to us and egged us on, most of which I CAN NOT put here!

The funny lies in 2 particular texts.

first at 1:15 to the GF's hubs (and I have no idea why this phrase was sent) "your wife loves my hoohaa"

second text was sent by the also inebriated GF all on her own "ur bitch be krzy" which makes no sense at all because she was talking about herself at that point. However, she did NOT send it to her husband, she sent it to someone who has the same fist name as her husband. Someone I work with, some one who is married- yeah, married to a woman that does not particularly like me.

Same name guy from worked called me this morning and I had to explain- how is it that the kids say- EPIC FAIL!!! Thankfully he laughed, and was smart enough to see my story was true (really hard to believe- me drinking!? never!) As far as his wife- wateve.

When the GF finally got home and rolled into bed, waking her hubs to the promised drunk wife hornyness, he asked:

What is a HOOHA?

Bwa-hahahaha- her reply- is a *meow* stupid. you know the word, I don't use it, that why I say hooha.

3 sisters make a pact

On the Saturday night I got the news my mother was ill, I cried, I bought an airline ticket on-line and then I started to pack.

This was hard:

• I was scared and emotional
• I had no idea what clothes actually still fit me in my closet and now was not the time to start trying crap on
• I needed comfortable, but presentable, you know all the old biddies will show up at the hospital and you have to at least have clean hair and NOT be in sweat pants
• I wasn't sure what the weather was like in Guatemala and was too frazzled to check weather.com
• I wasn't sure how long I would be there
• I had to pack some black clothing, a dress, a skirt, a top, panty hose and shoes.

I shoved the black items in my suitcase, thinking how unreal the whole situation was. My Mom was the healthiest person I know, works out EVERYDAY, does yoga, stands on her head for 30 minutes, doesn't smoke or drink and eats super healthy....STANDS ON HER HEAD!

As soon as my mother was able to open her eyes and mouth words, she wanted to shower and shave. Now this shows you the what is truly important to ALL women. We knew this before hand and had her make up bag, her favorite scent and a tweezers at hand. I had been carrying the tweezers in my purse since day one. You see women (all women, don't you lie) get strange hairs that appear overnight. Sometimes it's just one on your chin or your neck, but that one hair will drive you BATTY.

I did not want to simply go in there and start plucking away at my mothers face when she was unconscious, but lo and behold it was her first request oce she could formulate words.

We knew she was paralyzed on her left side (her leg and arm) but we were not sure about her face, so as I am plucking the few stay hairs from the left side of her face I ask "Mommy, does that hurt?"

Her answer: OBVIOUSLY

We all bust out laughing, my middle sister comments "yeah Mom, all this waxing and shaving and plucking is a big pain!"

Mom states: but necessary!

We all laugh again, that night as we ride the elevator down to to parking garage the 3 of us make a pact: This is the 3 sisters pact

No permission is needed, I don't care what sate I am in, one of you 2 will pluck my hairs, comb my hair, slap some make up on me and make sure I am damn presentable, if only for the nurses and doctors.

Fila Tennis Shoes, Hickies & my friend

The longest I ever went to any one school was for 4 years, in fact, excluding my life after marriage, that is the longest I had ever lived in one country consecutively, Guatemala. I was in the Maya School from 8th to 11th grade; the High School consisted of 8th- 12th grade and had maybe 120 students. You knew everyone, not only knew them, you were friends, you knew their siblings, parents, had been to their houses, it was inevitable. Of the 120 students, 90% were foreigners. Our parents worked for one of the Embassies, Consulates, the UN, Charity or Multinational Company. We were multi-cultural, all races, religions, ethnicities, backgrounds, socio-economic levels, as different as you could imagine, we all had one thing in common: we were alone. We didn’t have cousins, or extended families, we didn’t have lifelong friends, or people we knew from the neighborhood, we had just arrived to this country because it was our parents job. That meant one thing: school was everything, and as for me, the friendships I made during those years are unforgettable.

Last Friday, I got an e-mail at work, one of our schoolmates had been very ill, and the e-mail asked that we all keep her in our thoughts and prayers; I sent the e-mail out to out the classmates that I thought would be interested, at 9:36 my friend Kike (a nick name for Enrique) replied from his blackberry. He remembered our school mate well, as we rode the bus together and said he would pray for her and her family in this difficult time. He then sent me hugs and that was it. He was killed by a thief while he sat in his car at 10:00 am, they took his watch, wallet and his cell phone, he was 35, he left behind a young wife and a baby girl.

At least three times a week Kike would come by my house after school, we would play video games, listen to CD’s (they were brand new back then) our we would walk to a nearby strip mall to buy candy or a soda. He had his eye on a pair of black Fila tennis shoes, that were the bomb back in the day, and we would walk all the way to Metro 15 (a mall) and look at them, ask their price, he would try them on and then we would walk home. On our way there he would tell me what he had heard the older guys say about me (his brother was a couple of years older) which to me was invaluable, he taught me how to give a hickie, we practiced on each other forearms, he taught me how to spit (don’t ask), we practiced flicking cigarettes across the street, and tried to make rings of smoke, as we laughed and coughed. I will never forget the day he showed up at my house with the money to go by those shoes, he was so excited! We walked briskly to the Mall; he clunked down his 500 Quetzals’, which in those days was about $70, a pretty penny. He had a big ole smile and his face as he laced them up and wore them out of the store. It was starting to get dark as we walked home, I could still see his smile but mostly I remember how he walked tall the whole way.