Love

Love is powerful.

When I love someone it can over-power me.

Is that good or is that bad?

When someone I love is hurting, I hurt. I'm not saying that in some kind of corny way but I'm saying that from deep within my heart. I really mean it.

When someone I love is hurting, I hurt.

It's my individual and personal instinct to want to take that pain away and when I can't do something to make it go away for them, then I feel powerless.

So. Love is powerful and Love is powerless.

Cimmy - Hopelessly Devoted

It's 5:30am on a hot, Chicago August morning in 1978.

The sun is rising.

We're still awake and squished together, cuddled up and giggling in my twin-sized bed. She's farting and pulling the blankets over our heads.

"Turtle!"

"Jesus Christ Cim! Cut it out, you pig!" More giggles and tremendous laughter.

My brother's voice bellows from his bedroom. "Shut the hell up you crazy bitches! I can't stand it anymore!"

Nothing gives Cim and I more pleasure than knowing we're driving my older brother out of his mind. His bedroom is attached to mine and there is no getting away from us. Gotta love those old Chicago bungalows!

Cim rolls out of bed, taking and wrapping all of the blankets around her long, lanky body. She musses her hair up and makes - what she thinks is - a sexy entrance into my brother's room.

"Hey Tony, I'm Sandra Dee and I want you to know I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't rat my hair and I get ill from one cigarette - 'cough, cough, cough'"

"Get the hell out of here Cim. You're nuts!" barks my brother. But, from my bed, I can tell that he is holding back his laughter and loving every minute of it.

Cim starts singing Hopelessly Devoted to You at the top of her lungs. It's 1978 and Grease (the movie) was the summer craze.

I'm laughing hysterically because now my yellow lab, Rebby, has jumped up on Cim and she is using him as her dance partner and acting as if he is her John Travolta a.k.a Tony Zucco. Cim is singing, "My heart is saying Pleeeeeeeease don't leave me. My head is saying dooooooon't let go-o-o!

My bedroom door flies open! There stands my dad in his boxer shorts. "What the HELL is going on in here!? It's 5:30 in the morning, god-dammit! Knock it off!"

Cim turns and makes a run back for my bed. The blankets are tangled around her feet and she wipes out, face first onto the floor! WWHHOOOMP!!! Rebby climbs on top of her and starts to hump her. My brother breaks out into a loud, uncontrollable laughter. Tears are falling down my cheeks and I think I'm gonna' pee my pants!

Cim lifts her head from the floor and her enormous brown eyes look Dad square in the face. Calmly and in her sexiest voice Cim says, "Hi, I'm Sandra Dee, I'm sorry and I love you."

"Go to bed, god-dammit !" yells Dad as he slams my bedroom door shut behind him.

Cim climbs back into bed with me and whispers, "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't get you in trouble. You're dad hates me now." I could tell she was hurt and scared. Cim really loved my dad.

A few seconds later my bedroom door squeaks open. Dad's head pops in, he looks at us with a tender eye, pauses and then he gives Cimmy a grumpy smile and says to her, "I love you too."

Then the door quietly shuts behind him.

I don't think my dad will ever know how much that meant to her.

We couldn't help but love her.

Hey, I'm not Perfect!

My Imperfections....Love Me or Don't.

1. When my kids were little I would pour them a bowl of cereal and pass out on the couch watching Rainbow Bright while they ate breakfast.

2. When my kids were school aged, I'd send them out the door to WALK to school , go back to bed, wake up at 2:25 and pick them up at 2:30. Hey! At least I picked them up.

3. When my kids were teenagers and didn't come home at curfew, I'd go out in my pajamas and wet hair to find them, humiliate them and bring them home.

4. I let dishes sit in my sink for four or five days.

5. I wear the same socks for three days in a row.

6. I hate deodorant. It makes my armpits itch. I'd rather smell like B.O.

7. Sometimes I sleep in the same shirt and bra I wore all day....AND the day before!

8. I rarely make my bed.

9. I floss my teeth with plastic bags.

10. I roll out of bed, throw on clothes, don't brush my hair or put on makeup and go to work on some mornings.

11. I do not take daily showers or baths. I bathe/shower every other day...sometimes every other, other day.

12. I can't figure out my Religion.

13. I don't balance my checkbook....ever!

14. I hate that I love to procrastinate.

15. I am addicted to the Food Channel.

American Idol. When's it gonna happen?

I know I am not the only American Idol viewer who is just waiting.....

......for this

Remembering Cim

It's been five months today since Cim died. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of her. I've never had a biological sister but Cim was the closest thing I could get.

My memory today brings me back the beginning of our friendship.....

We went way back.

She lived in the big, brick, bungalow next door to me on Avenue "H" when I was about 4 or 5.

Cim had a head of hair full of tight, curly, brown ringlets and a dimple deeper than the grand canyon. My Uncle Floyd adored her and called her "Tiny Bubbles". He used to take us to Cal Park and then to Paul's Candy store. He gave us each a dollar and we each walked away with a brown paper bag filled with 100 pieces of glorious, penny candies.

We played dolls out in front of our houses. We dug in the dirt with silver spoons and we giggled and played innocently as children do.

Then she moved away.

About 10 years later I was with my mom buying new shoes and l0' and behold Cim and her mom were in the same shoe store. At the checkout counter, our mothers reminisced and caught up with one another. Cim and I were both about 13. Arms crossed and bored as hell, we just eyed one another up and down. I thought she looked like a Farrah Fawcet wanna-be and later I learned she thought I needed some major "work"... I was a horrible tomboy.

A few weeks later I was riding my bike around the neighborhood and I noticed a fight going on in the Taylor School playground. Curiosity got the best of me so I pulled up, hopped off of my new ten speed and made my way through the mob. There was Cim in the middle facing off with some stuck-up, popular bitch I never liked. I remember her yelling to me "Why don't you dress like a girl!?", when I'd ride my bike past her and her little "click".

This girl was saying some horrible, hurtful things to Cim and it seemed as if everyone was on her side. I don't know why but I spoke up and stuck up for Cim.

"Don't let her talk to you like that Cimmy, kick her ass!!"

Cim looked up, and saw me and when she did, that bitch kicked Cimmy right in the crotch.

Down Cim went and IN I went. I grabbed that chick and pulled her down on the ground. I punched her in the face and demanded she appologize to Cim. I pulled her up by her shirt so she was nose to nose with me and then I spit on. I remember telling her that she was just jealous that Cim was prettier (and Cim was gorgeous) than her and I her pushed her back down so hard that her head hit the cement. Everyone knew she didn't stand a chance. I could fight - I grew up on a block of all boys and I was pretty much fearless. The mob pulled me off of the bitch and scurried away, arms around her crying, sorry, little ass.

I leaned over to Cim and said "Hi, do you remember me? I'm Chris and we lived next door to one another when we were little . I saw you in the shoe store awhile ago" Cim responded, "Yea, I remember. We used to be good friends and you beat all the boys up for me."

And so our story goes. We remained best friends from that day forward.

I have so many wonderful stories about our friendship that I want to share. But I think it's best just to start at the beginning.

I wish our story didn't end.

I miss her.

Time

Today I got together with my family to celebrate my cousins 50th birthday.

You may not see your cousin, aunt or uncle for ten years but when you re-unite it's just like old times. Reuniting with family can take you back to old memories and places.

Carefree, childhood memories of long ago.

Memories of rollerskating in your cousin's basement while your parents were in another room, partying and enjoying the night away. Memories of Mom and Dad, Aunts and Uncles laughing around a dining room table, sipping wine and martinis, talking about old times and discussing current events.

Memories of the bright glow of Uncle John's movie camera capturing you sitting on Santa's lap when he came to Grandmas house. Memories.

I don't know why but when it comes to my family,I find it hard to accept everyone in the roles they belong in today.

Them. My Uncles and Aunts, Mom and Dad were the party machines - grilling, drinking, laughing , watching over us kids and incorporating the fashion of the times. Now they aren't "them". They are the granparents and great-grandparents who could care less about drinking, watching over kids and fashion. They are now content and retired.

Us. Me and my cousins were the pampered,carefree, spoiled children But now we are not. We are the party machines, drinking, watching over kids (and even some grandkids) still keeping up with fashion. We are working hard to make a living.

Time doesn't stop. It keeps ticking-and ticking. And before I knew it I am one of "them". And sooner or later my kids and thier kids are going to be one of "us".

The point of this post is that I have come to realize how important it is to savor and to live in each and every single moment of my life.

Because there is no escaping the fact that some day, maybe in 200 years, someone will come across a headstone that reads: " Christy Matczak Boyle 1962 - ?"

They might think... who was she?

I was them.
They were me.
I am us .
I am you.
I am me.

Daughters

I have two daughters.

One is literally on my lap right now, cuddling, purring, tail in front of my screen. I'm pretty damn talented that I can type like this.


So the other daughter is on a train back home to Indiana right now. She's a riot.

Today she went to Macy's for a MAC makeup consultation and she got all done up. She made an appointment for me tomorrow which I am sure I will not make.

After her appointment she was feeling all 'gussied' and she called me.

"Meet me at the Plymouth for a drink." So I did.

Sitting at the bar, we went through all the new makeups she bought and I tried on her new lip gloss. She said it smelled like cotton candy. I say it smelled like lip gloss. Whatever.

We had a very nice time and she met lots of new friends and she danced. I enjoyed watching her. I have no interest in all of that "extra-curricular" activity.

All in all it was good night. A fun night out with my Suzy girl.

YU&77777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777775.....that, my friends,was my OTHER daughter. Anxiously awaiting a night of cuddling with me.

Off I go with my furry, black friend.

Goodnight. Sweet dreams.