Meet My Friends, They are Just Like You…


These are my Ya Ya’s:


The terms above will be the descriptions I use for the women that I spent a wonderful, funny, joy and tear filled weekend with in North Carolina a couple of weeks ago. I find these words strong and meaningful. As I keep going, they will know who they are.

For some of us, it has been over 30 plus years since we have laid eyes on each other. During our days in a small high school in New Jersey we went in and out of each others circles for four years. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes not, but always constant, as the closeness was there because we were all experiencing the same high school things in different ways.

Spending five long and relaxing days in the mountains was suggested a couple of months ago and we gathered on Facebook, discussed and committed to it.  Funny how as much as we criticize social media, it has brought so many people together in our huge world to share good times and bad, reunions and family events, when we otherwise may not have known about it.

My four years in high school were filled with many ups and downs,typical roller coaster ride we have all been on.  My last two years were fun and I finally felt like I fit in after moving to such a small close-knit community in the 8th grade in 1973.  From the South.  Can I hear a yay Y’ALL??

So, from all over the country-and I mean all over-Georgia, Florida, Carolinas, New Jersey and Arizona we plane, train and ‘automobiled’  it there and landed at the lovely home of Creative’s parents.  The hospitality was amazing, especially since Creative is an unbelievable cook (as is her older brother-an executive chef in the Hamptons…).  And, since Creative has her own line of baked goods like salted caramel brownies, affectionately called ‘crack’ brownies by us, we were set for a weekend of food, wine, and fun.

I have been to the few high school reunions that we have had and Creative was always there.  As was Consistent and Committed. Our bond has been further sealed by our communications on Facebook.  They were not my best friends in high school, but they certainly were fun and always nice. I consider all of the Ya’s my best friends now.

We Are Mid Century Modern

To accept whatever comes, regardless of the consequences, is to be unafraid — John Cagle

We graduated in 1978.  Billy Joel, Peter Frampton, Led Zeppelin, The Who, The Eagles, the new Saturday Night Live, Welcome Back Kotter, were part of our pop culture. We were off to school, to work in Manhattan, to travel, to become adults.  Through the years we re-grouped and sent letters, cards, phone calls, but as time wore on most of us lost touch.  Then came social media.  And we rekindled old and new friendships through this unique new channel.  I am sooo glad we did.

So in North Carolina we decided that it was time for us middle-aged, no, mid-century modern gals to get together, eat, drink, laugh, cry and re-hash those incredibly crazy stupid days of  high school.  We talked about crushes we had that we now laugh at that were totally unrequited and thank god never materialized. We drank entirely too much wine and beer.  We ate an insane amount of sweets and steak.  We even went to see the local production of “Hairspray” where Creative’s daughter had a featured role.   There were so many things we talked about and I can’t describe it all here.  But there is evidence that we have become stronger and particularly resilient over the past 30 years. . .

The Ya Ya’s and Why I have Named them So…

Creative because she was our hostess.  Love, loss, divorce, single parenting, and re-inventing herself and living her true artful creative life baking in the North Carolina mountains. We do truly adore you and your family.  You got us together and made it happen!

Commitment because after living the crazy media life she settled down, had three children, adopted from Eastern Europe, home schooled them and gave up her journalism dreams to be a Christian wife and mother.  Two are in a great college now making them proud and becoming terrific adults. I’m thinking the writing will come.

Perseverance left our school in her junior year to have her first-born son and become a very young wife.  Over the years and two more kids later, single mothering for a bit,  and a cross-country move she has pushed through the death of her parents, her kid’s teenage years, her own horrible bout of colon cancer, the after effects of radiation and raising her grandchildren with humor, wit and good beer.

Determined because she met and married a guy from spring break that her brother said she would never see again, moved to the cold midwest and raised two children.  She endured the sudden death of her husband by a freak accident, the loss of her only son 10 years later from a rare form of cancer, raised her teenage daughter to be a wonderful young college student, assists her mother, and still goes to live rock concerts in Florida and is a secret beach bum she just won’t admit it.

Consistent because she is.  She has not changed one iota, in looks or personality. Tiny and quick-witted, she has raised two sons virtually on her own while maintaining her friendships with many of our townspeople in NJ and coordinating many of our reunions.  She always has the time to stay in touch, and rescue animals, who make all of us laugh on social media.

Faithful.  She only came for the afternoon and dragged her poor husband along, whom she met while they were missionaries.  She also raised a family and is a nurse.  She embodies her faith and lives it.  Unlike many out there.  That’s why I admire her.

We plan to get together now on a yearly basis–and I hope we do.  So much of the weekend was a cathartic experience for all of us.  Different than a college reunion.  Even different from a high school reunion.  Just a group of pretty awesome girls that I am honored to know.

And we are now one circle.

This post is dedicated to them.

I Put my mom in facebook jail


Sorry but the Plate should say BULLDOGS

I had to put my mother in Facebook Timeout. It’s what you do when you get a lecture about being online entirely too much by a family member.

This is not the first time we have had this conversation. She was at a family function about 6 weeks ago and my cousins, who are around my age laughed and said I was on it all the time. Now, you know, if you are logged in and not ON Facebook, it shows you as on-line. In my other life I am a real estate agent as well as a trainer for a large wonderful real estate company. Social Networking for agents is what I teach. Over and over again. I also show them how to create business pages and create Twitter accounts. So, I am online like, ALL DAY, mom…..

She is 75 and recently got an iPad. She has become dangerous with Facebook, texting, suggesting apps, and reading CNN all day long. She also creeps on my news feed. She doesn’t miss a thing. Oh, and she is also a real estate agent. Just sold a 700K house. That is more production than me this year, but I digress.

Yesterday afternoon, I called to check in and she started asking me questions about who is sick on my timeline, who just had a baby, and what is this mermaid thing. Then she added–‘You really are on Facebook a lot.’ For the umpteenth time.

Mom, I am 52, have a teenager, been married 23 years to the same man, try to keep my house clean, have a great job, have lots of friends, am not in rehab, and haven’t asked you all for money since 1986.

So, I came home and blocked her. Well, actually I accidentally unfriended her. Last nite. It took her about 8 hours to call me this morning and whine-YOU UN-FRIENDED MEEEEEEEE!!!

I kinda like the term, Facebook Timeout. I had 24 hours of freedom-I should have posted nude photos of myself and stuff but Facebook would have called DFACS and taken my teen away.

Now, the mermaid-well, I guess I am busted. Mom, if you show up here, just be ready to accept that I may use some words like: douchebag, penis, vagina, WTF, FBomb, and my favorite word of all time–SHIT! I will try to enhance my vocabulary and get out my Roget’s Thesaurus to try to find a comparable word but I don’t think that is gonna happen. I may also joke about my religion, my bodily functions, and male strippers. But this is all in fun.

After all, you were the one who told me about the 50 yard douche (water skiing), read 2 of the Grey books, and also told me before I got married that the secret to a happy marriage is this: If he isn’t horny, make him a sandwich!

Don’t forget about nature vs. nuture-my sense of humor is from you and dad (the man who would not pay for the band for my wedding unless they played “Shout“). So now I gotta figure how to bail big momma out of Facebook jail.

I love you, mom. And enjoy…..

Too Hot For Spanx

Today is too hot for Spanx.

In fact I think as long as Spanx are in the world us ‘Rubenesque’ girls will be in dire circumstances. Now don’t get me wrong- Sarah Blakely is my hero. She is rolling in spandex pantyhose money and laughing all the way to the ‘toes less’ hose bank.

Teenagers wear it now.  Time for a gut check.  If I have to wear foundation materials under something I own to go out in public, then maybe I should not have put it on in the first place.

This is why skinny women are bitchy and mean.  They do wear this stuff, and they don’t eat, and it’s hot, therefore they are cranky.  I choose to be happy.  And I choose to eat.  Panera. Bread on the side, pat of butter-real.

No one told me that if you wear underwear with this stuff it makes it (your underwear)  roll down and then your situation starts creeping over the waistband and asking for a dinner roll. So you have to go commando with support wear.  Sweat and all.  Makes for a swell day at the office, or mall, or gynecologist.
Yesterday I took  a blogging class with the famous ATLANTA author Hollis Gillespie and Huffington Post columnist Michael Alvear. It”s going to get crazy out here in 51 land . Buckle up bitches……