Here's A Riddle For You

What can one really say in a public journal about the "S" word. It's invigorating. It actually releases endorphins in your brain that can result in an indescribable high. It's always there but you can't always have it. Any guesses? Sometimes the addiction is so strong the urge to taste of it leads one to do things they might later regret. The memory of it fades almost instantly. Ah hah! I caught you heading down the 3-letter "S" word road. Ooops!! My bad, it does have 3 letters. Alas, my friend, the S-word I speak of is far greater! There are diseases that lay their blame on the fact that we don't get enough of it. One can develop certain types of fevers and mood swings from a lack of this S-word. In fact, we would literally die without it. (Yes, it's true. I know because my cabin fever was at a very dangerous level just a few short hours ago) So you can imagine my relief and excitement this morning when I arose early (I didn't even have to set the alarm, Kate) and tasted of the S U N
Hallelujah, I'm walking on sunshine!
Post Script: Sometimes I think the mental bandwagon drove by while I was napping.

GOOD RIDDANCE February
Ever had that last party guest that doesn't know when to go home? It's name is winter. Last night it felt like we had sub-zero temperatures. In the living room. I find some solace in flipping the calendar page and for those of you that don't know me well, I had a baby on March 3, 1983 and it was 70 degrees. Ok, then bring it! My schedule for the next 3 weeks is crazy. More later! There is life on Mars Hill!

What Day Is It?

It's obvious there should be no white boys in the American Idol top 12 contestants
Jake and Christie stopped by, and we have yet to hear of her "Youth with a Mission" adventures.
Vote early and vote often....it's all about the kids, not the almighty dollar.
Two cars in the shop cannot be good for my mental health.
Aunt Normie was one of my 32 eccentric aunts and uncles, but she also wins in my favorite category. Until we meet again.
I want to read Fear and Loathing
While the Cat's away, the mice are doing all the work.
Every aspect of the theatre is growing on me
Mark has pulled yet one more relative from the brink of dell destruction over to the wonderful world of Apple. Congratulations John.
We've rented a motor home for August 19 ~ September 9. I pray any video footage we collect never ends up in a movie starring Chevy Chase.

All The Live Long Day

My name is Julee and I approved this advertisement.

Allegros present the Broadway musical "Working" March 17, 18, & 19, 2005. A song and dance revue about the everyday working person from architects to the UPS guy, featuring the incomprehensible talents of several well known area artists. You'll be kickin' yourself to the curb if you let this one pass you by.
Don't miss it.

Coming Soon: A pirated sneak preview of the song If I Could Have Been

So This Is Love

Let's face it ~ You haven't climbed Mount Everest and I haven't written the Great American Novel.

But look at it this way...we haven't declared bankruptcy nor have we had the nerve felt the need to find greener grass.

Matter of fact, come to think of it, there's lots of things we haven't done. Been arrested, sanded the hardwood floors, lit the match, or bought the farm, just to mention a few.

So yeah, Happy 28th Valentine's Day! And here's to all the things we have to do yet. Literally.

Oh and by the way, thanks for the three great gifts, you sure know how to pick 'em.

We Are Family

All happy families resemble each other ~ Leo Tolst

Happy Birthday to my brother-in-law Paul, and my niece Ariel Janae!!!

Mark sure doesn't have much family left but what he does have affects him in the most positive ways. Paul and Teresa are like the perfect relatives. They never wear out their welcome. They are filled with nothing but prejudice opinions when it comes to our kids, and our parenting skills. Paul has thankfully released me of my role as sports sounding board and I have never, for a moment, regretted the intrusion.

In all areas of their lives, Paul and Teresa have remained faithful, constant, dependable and trustworthy. Their road has not always been without it's hardships, but they have weathered the storm and we have all been the recipients of their infectious personalities, undeserved affection, and constant prayers. In a way, Paul has given Mark the praise, adoration, consideration, and attention that one usually receives from a father.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

Carpe diem.

Ariel, what a gift you were that cold Valentine's week-end when you arrived via your birth-mom and landed in what surely was the family that god handpicked just for you. We all would have a gaping Ariel sized hole in hearts if you weren't a part of our lives today. Please don't ever stop being you. You are creative, funny, talented, innovative, and original. Happy birthday, god bless you, and give your crazy 'ole aunt a call once in a while.

The Saga Continues

You can only be as happy as your saddest child ~ Unknown

I don't know. Sometimes I want to burst at the seams with pride and joy in the spectacular job I have done as a parent.

That's me being facetious, then I put myself in some sort of reality check hold, and I realize, I've failed miserably in lots of areas.

Actually when I look at their accomplishments and personalities, it doesn't have much to do with my parenting skills, and everything to do with their disposition, character, and creator.

So let me just beat up on myself for a blog or two. I'm not looking for a response, a pat on the back, or even a reprimand. Just an emo 50-ish, retrospective of how I would change things if I could do it all over.

My biggest regret...and I'm not sure you can even teach this....it's actually something you have to learn as you go through life's experiences, is that I feel I've neglected to show them how to be a good friend, how to communicate true feelings, and most importantly how to find love and acceptance inside themselves.

So now as I watch them go through some of life's constant problems, I WANT to interfere and FIX it all for them. "Ooops, sweetie, I forgot to teach you how to set boundaries, here let me build a retaining wall for you now. Uh-o, I didn't give you any steps for dealing with confrontations, do you need me to bitch slap anyone?. My bad, I totally skipped the appointment on communication skills, why don't you start a blog?"

But I can't interfere, I can't and I won't, mainly because I haven't figured it all out myself yet. If I had, you can bet I would meddle.

Anywho, this probably should remain a draft, but it won't. Besides who would read this if I just wrote, "Today I went to work, it was not fun. Then I came home and stuffed my face out of frustration. Then I got sick. Then I fell asleep on the couch in front of a mindless TV show. But it's the end of the week, so TGIF, BFF, TTYL, and just for the heck of it LOL."

Tomorrow I must teach Melissa how to cook.

The Saga Continues

You can only be as happy as your saddest child ~ Unknown

I don't know. Sometimes I want to burst at the seams with pride and joy in the spectacular job I have done as a parent. That's me being facetious, then I put myself in some sort of reality check hold, and I realize, I've failed miserably in lots of areas. Actually when I look at their accomplishments and personalities, it doesn't have much to do with my parenting skills, and everything to do with their disposition, character, and creator. So let me just beat up on myself for a blog or two. I'm not looking for a response, a pat on the back, or even a reprimand. Just an emo 50-ish, retrospective of how I would change things if I could do it all over. My biggest regret...and I'm not sure you can even teach this....it's actually something you have to learn as you go through life's experiences, is that I feel I've neglected to show them how to be a good friend, how to communicate true feelings, and most importantly how to find love and acceptance inside themselves. So now as I watch them go through some of life's constant problems, I WANT to interfere and FIX it all for them. "Ooops, sweetie, I forgot to teach you how to set boundaries, here let me build a retaining wall for you now. Uh-o, I didn't give you any steps for dealing with confrontations, do you need me to bitch slap anyone?. My bad, I totally skipped the appointment on communication skills, why don't you start a blog?" But I can't interfere, I can't and I won't, mainly because I haven't figured it all out myself yet. If I had, you can bet I would meddle. Anywho, this probably should remain a draft, but it won't. Besides who would read this if I just wrote, "Today I went to work, it was not fun. Then I came home and stuffed my face out of frustration. Then I got sick. Then I fell asleep on the couch in front of a mindless TV show. But it's the end of the week, so TGIF, BFF, TTYL, and just for the heck of it LOL." Tomorrow I must teach Melissa how to cook.

If The Shoe Fits

If I could save time in a bottle ... I would have saved yestreday.

I promised myself that I would never use my blog to preach. I lied, of course, and now I speak in vague generalities. There comes a time in everyone's life when ya need to just take the plunge and fall in love with yourself AND YOUR LIFE. Not a narcissistic, prideful type of love, but a healthy, I-am-me-I-may-not-be-where-I'm-going-yet-but-I-am-growning-learning-and-loving-on-the-journey kind of love affair. One thermometer you can use to determine if you're on track to land at the happy place is; others in your life that are on the same trip. Don't. Look inward. The real test is do you like you. Do you like your job? Do you like what you do in your spare time? Do you like who you spend time with? Do you like you? When you honestly answer these questions and you come up with more no's than yes's, I would say it's time to change things up a bit. Funny thing is, though, the answers are not necessarily... get a new job, quit watching your favorite TV show, or even placing a personal ad for new friends. (Although some of those things might happen as you concentrate on the last question.) Do you like you, at the end of the day? Here's the key....and "your welcome" in advance because I know you'll all be eternally grateful that I cared enough to confront....GET A GRIP. And by that I mean, GROW UP, and by that I mean GET A LIFE, and by that I mean GROW A BACKBONE. And by all that I mean....switch jobs, start a new favorite pastime, go to school, don't go to school, screen your calls, don't worry so much about what people think, set boundaries, reclaim your space, and for heaven's sake before I have to go "Dr. Phil" on your ass, quit whining about what you don't like in your life and start living. Today would be good.

Week-end Update

I miss Paris in the winter

If I journaled everything here that has gone through my head this week-end, well you would need a second cup of coffee. Hang on, I'll be right back. I have to dye my hair. I updated my memoirs if you want something to read while I'm gone.

You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. John 8:32

I can’t quite remember, but it must have been winter in the mid 1980’s when I first heard of Springhill Camps. The buzz around church was that the minute you got your registration flyer in the mail and had picked out your child’s roommate...you better mail it in pronto if you wanted a spot for summer camp at Springhill.
Hmmmm let me think. A week without my precious, little, energetic, adventurous, sister-pestering, exasperating son. Sign him up.
And so when summer rolled around that year I carefully packed 5 pairs of underwear, 5 T-shirts, 5 pairs of shorts, jeans, sweatshirt, lots of socks, and 2 pairs of shoes, one of which could get wet.
Off we went to Springhill Camps. After subtracting my $20. deposit, my balance at the registration table was $49.
We sheepishly shook the counselors hands and tried not to leave prematurely. That week I prayed for them (the counselors) diligently. I wondered constantly how he (Benjamin) was doing. Was he cold at night? Was he showing respect to his counselors? Was he making new friends? Would there be any God seeds that fell on his fertile young mind soil?
I was resigned to the fact that if Ben came home with a positive experience we would happily become a summer camp fan family.
And so the day finally arrived (I actually kinda missed the little bugger) for me to pick him up. He came bounding up the hill from the pond behind the white house. In his hands was a gigundrus frog that he proudly poked in my face. He was dressed in the same clothes that we had dropped him off in 5 & 1/2 days earlier. After he introduced me to his new pet, he passed him (the frog) off to a friend and suddenly burst into the most horrified breath gasping cry I’d ever heard. The frog and friend backed off to find their parents as Ben fell weeping into my arms.
“I....don’t....gasp....arghh...cough...don’t...gasp...”
This is it. My mind raced ahead. I guess we will not be sending springhill any more campers, volunteers, TST’ers, counselors, summer or resident staff.
I try to comfort through the muffled gasps for air, “I don’t ever...gasp...gasp...cough...gasp...
Whoa! They better not have hurt my open minded, creative thinking, mind of his own, son’s feelings. Cuz, yeah I’d just as soon save the $69 a week once a summer if that’s the case.
“....ever....want to....gasp...cough...gasp....to go...gasp...

...home!”

For one short instant, before my heart began to overflow with a special springhill size gush of gratefulness, I thought that’s a fine how do yo do to any affectionate mother’s heart.
He liked it..he really really liked it. We were hooked...in 5 short days we had become a springhill fan family.

20 years later on a very cold 2006 February weekend, during a Senior High retreat,we would finally come full circle at Springhill Camps.

It is amazing to see what God can do with a spirit that is totally sold out and emerged in Him.

Those brief 36 hours of my life spent on the 44th latitude will forever justify in my mind that; “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it,” is not only God’s truth, but God’s promise.


If you’ve never been...my strong suggestion is to get there. I don’t care how you get there, just get there if you can. There is a handsome, hard working, unselfish activities (could be running the whole camp) director that would certainly be able to give you a couple of volunteer weekend jobs. Ask for Tony. There’s a program director who is writing, performing, and making productions that are cutting edge, thought provoking and creative and could use a good editor, producer, and/or writing companion. Ask for Ben. There are retreats available with every kind of family combinations you can think of. There are John Deere tractors to drive and pictures to be taken. There’s tiny little camps, medium sized camps, and great big camps. I’m sure you could find one that is just your size.

I wish everyone could see and have their “What If?” questions answered. No wonder, my little 7 year old son came falling into my arms and crying that he didn’t want to go home. He was home.

Duh!

Matthew 16: 15 - He said to them (his disciples) "Who do you say that I am?" and Peter answered and said, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God."
John 14:6 ~ Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but through me."

I have been struggling, oh let's say for most of my life, with organized religion. What if the Catholics have it all "right" and you can't actually make it past purgatory unless you jump through all their hoops? What if the "big bang" was how it all got started....although evolution offers me nothing as far as a savior, a relationship, or even the "do good" theory. What if the Jehovah's Witnesses have the truth and only 144,000, wearing a white shirt and black tie, are going to literally die happy? I wasn't baptized until I was a teenager. What if I would have died before that? None of my kids have been baptized. Oooops. That's not even to mention the wackos, the extremists, the Methodists, the Buddhists, the Baptists, the Jews, or the Muslims. But the good news is Sunday night I got "saved." Saved from all my questions. Saved from my doubts as of late. Saved from the cult of christianity that judges others and therefore they themselves have the nastiest of labels stamped on them. Saved from the hierarchy of it all from the Pope to Jerry Falwell. In the gutted Grand Village Mall, seated in a circle along with 2500 or so others, I heard the simplest, aimed-straight-at-me-more-of-a-story-rather-than-a-sermon message. The simplicity was striking. I was created in the image of God and therefore I have a god vacuum in me. So when I see a beautiful sunset and it moves my heart, that's me filling a little bit of my hole with the designer God. When I hold a baby, or I am filled with a sense of pride and joy through my children, that's me filling the gap created by the father God. When I ache at the sight of a starving child or even a stray puppy that's the sign he's a loving God. And the second part of the good news is that God is an all-knowing God that knew ahead of time what good 'ole Adam and Eve would do in the garden. And so he lovingly, compassionately, sent his son Jesus to fill the void that is in all of us. Now a ton of religions and individuals, including me, have spent a lot of precious time, money, and sanity trying to shut out the voices that are really just the vacuum crying out to be filled. I’m actually too embarrassed to fill in the blanks. “I spend most of my time____________, I spend more than enough money on_____________, or, I spend a lot of time thinking about____________." Jesus is the square peg that fits in the round hole. Nothing more nothing less. The Jesus of the Bible is an historic character that I don't believe any of the above mentioned religions would deny actually walked the face of the earth. It's what I "do" with him that matters. I have to believe one of two things about him. Either he was who he said he was. Or he was the worlds best actor, imitator, liar, and master of disguise that ever lived.

Sunday night was my leap of faith.
That’s all.

That Damn Groundhog Better Get It Right

What do the Iraqi people and Meghan W. have in common? Well, not a whole heck of a lot, but I thought they both deserved to be mentioned and congratulated. Meghan on student of the month and all around the best thing that ever happened to Melissa in her school career. And good for you Iraqi's....you came.... you voted.... you conquered! Let freedom ring.

Cable Guy

Apparently for only $5.00 more a month we can add HD TV to our system.

 "What?" "You mean to tell me with all the cords, outlets, inputs, and color coded wires we already have, not a one of them can make the reception as crystal clear or by definition, high?"

Behind our TV looks like the dashboard of some kind of space machine that hasn't even been invented yet.

I am always amazed at the handiwork of God in creating the mind, heart, and soul in each of us. And He did it all on the 6th day and there hasn't been an upgrade or a different operating system, since. All through the holiday season, as I drove over the bridge, I lovingly admired the colored Christmas lights adorning each light pole. It conjured up in my mind a childhood fascination with the magical merry-go-round. But one day, I had to be into work early, and from the conference room window I stood mesmerized by the most glorious sunrise I had ever seen. It made every holiday display pale. I couldn't move, and as all of my human doubt faded away, I heard someone say, "Here, I painted this for you."

And there is more where that came from...the best sunsets in Michigan are in late January and February and they come in HD. And so I sit, this afternoon. between the hours of 1 and 5pm and wait to get my high......definition. Then I think I will immediately step out for some fresh air, aka---head to the beach for my "fix" of the good stuff.

Shape Up

Someone forwarded these to me but since I don't "do" Windows or Fdw's I had to post them. I hope you enjoy ....then take a hike.

~Walking can add days to your life. This enables you, at 85 years of age to spend an additional 5 months in a nursing home at $5000. per day.
~ I started walking five miles a day when I was 39. When I'm 60 my family won't know where the hell I am.
~I joined a health club last year, spent about 400 bucks. Haven't lost a pound. Apparently you have to go there.
~ I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me.
~The advantage of exercising every day is that you die healthier.
~If you are going to try cross-country skiing, start with a small country.
~And last but not least: I don't exercise because it makes the ice jump right out of my glass.


OK, I completely blew off yesterday. Mr. "What's for Dinner" has installed a computer voice that comes out of the sky on the hour and announces, "It's eleven o'clock" ....It's two o'clock.....

It's six o'clock???

 Thank goodness for my hair cut appointment at 6:15 that forced me out of the house. Since I feel somewhat out of shape and am looking for ways to get in to it, my smidgen of will power kicked in and I even stopped at the h.s. to walk. Thank-you to the kind stranger that jumped in my car and held a gun to my head until I finished 2 laps.

So today, I'm feeling confident and self assured. I cleaned out my closet. I went through every article of clothing and claimed my own from off of the mounded heap in the basement we lovingly call the laundry table. It was actually kind of fun, I played the 'ole garage sale game with my clothes. Give it away, throw it away, or put it away. Gotta love it. Right now I'm in the middle of trying to find a game to play with the bills.

So yeah, feeling strong, drinking raw eggs, pumping my fists, and hearing Rocky music in my head. And "It's only one o'clock!!!"

That's What I Thought

Time it was and what a time it was
It was a time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago it must be,
I have a photograph, preserve your memories
They're all that's left you
~Simon and Garfunkel~


It's two for tuesday! Kinda like waffle cone wednesday, and yet, not.

Journal - Julee - it's a journal. Day by day recording of things that happen.

Last week we went to a Fury hockey game with the Wiseman's. I guess it was somewhat of a solace for not being able to watch the Red Wings. It worked a little bit. Crazy, somewhat mullet-less, fans. Staged player fights and someone in the booth playing appropriate fist pumping music, like when the other team started the fight, splicing in "Girls just wanna have fu-un." But it was no "Joe" and there were no octopi, and I couldn't for the life of me catch any strains of "We will, we will, rock you." But the company was fun, even our impromptu ice capades on the sub terrain wind tunnel called the parking lot. The Station was crammed (you'd think with all those chain restaurants out by the mall people would leave our little R.Park and N.Shores establishments alone) but we pulled strings and got in at Chili's for a sub-standard burger.

Speaking of leaving our little villages alone...WE DON'T WANT NO FLIPPIN WAL-MART. I don't care if I have to buy my toilet paper at Pic-n-Pac for $9.00 a roll. Hell no, I won't go. Say it with me now. Hell no, I won't go. Everybody, c'mon. Journal - Julee - it's a journal. Day by day recording of things that happen. It just so happens, that we done went and got rselves the secund largust Wolmurt in these gosh durn United States of Amurica. Dad gummit.


The week-end was relatively quiet compared to the last few months. I don't think we left the place until Sunday morning. Happy hour on Friday was small and personable, Kate, Melissa, and me. Melissa drank pepsi. More good times.

Time. It's so quiet, controlling, and scary. It waits for no one. I think I wrote this in a former life... you can have a Hummer in your garage but you can't buy a day with 25 hours in it. Melissa says it only goes fast after you've gone through it and look back upon it. But I think she is rethinking her views, somewhat. I skipped walking tonight. Just thought I'd confess, I hear it's good for the soul.

 OK, while I'm at it...I guess my "What's for Dinner" post ruffled a few feathers. I apologize, didn't mean to infer that the male species doesn't work hard, but I can see how that could have come across that way. I guess that's what it feels like to him when I ask, "How much was your paycheck this week?" I guess there are some things you just have to accept and God grant me the serenity.

But I tell you what, I'm not gonna sit still for this Wal-mart thing.

It's Your Turn

Sometimes, when certain people say, "what's for dinner?" I want to curl up in the fetal position and tear my face off.

Who, when, where and why were the household chores divvied up so that it is usually the male species asking the question and then he assumes that the female should come up with a reasonable answer?

Wonder how same sex couples cope with this dilemma? This is just another form of racism and bigotry and somehow, someway, somebody has got to put a stop to this madness. So yeah, as you can tell I'm not really a fan of menu planning, cooking, grocery shopping, and doing dishes.

Oh, don't get me wrong....I have menus, yeah, let's see there's chicken broccoli casserole night, hot pockets night, chicken broccoli casserole leftover night, but even if you add in pizza hut night and cereal night that still leaves 2 nights unaccounted for.

If we learned everything we know in Kindergarten, then the solution to this problem would be to take turns. So that is what we will do...after all you wouldn't want to be responsible for me tearing my own face off now, would ya?

Hold 'Em

On a quiet, snowy, Sunday ride I heard four small words that began to finalize in my heart and soul, that indeed, my apron strings are hanging by a thread. "I'm going to go," she said softly but with much conviction.

We were in the bug and the sound track to Garden State was playing in the background. The song was by Colin Hay entitled, I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You. I had to turn the music down and ask her what she said, although I had heard loud and clear. And so she said it again, "I'm going to go to California."

When she was little she used to say to me with her tiny arms wrapped around my legs, "Hold you?", Hold you?" I guess she substituted "you" for "me" because I always said to her, "want me to hold you?"
And now she was asking me to let her go.

The tears instantly welled up and waited patiently to hear the rest of her reasoning. Which actually kinda caught me off guard.

"Don't you want me to go?" Yes...hell no! I wanted to scream. What I really wanted was to turn the clock back and enjoy the fricken heck out of each day I've been privileged to have her call me mom.

"Yes, sweetie, of course I want you to go. It will be the experience of a lifetime for you," I heard myself saying. But it was muffled and weak.

Why didn't somebody tell me how hard this was going to be? I want to be able to reach out and touch, hug, and squeeze her hand at my choosing. Cell phones and e-mail cannot speak to my heart like the sensation of touch. People can live without all the other senses---but babies would actually shrivel up and die with out someone holding them.

She was rambling on then about finding a black church with some kick ass choir, meeting new people, and what she was thinking of singing for the collage fundraiser. She jumped from subject to subject...something about remaining just friends and how her and Meghan have all but one class together to finish out their last semester. I didn't hear it all. I was too busy trying to turn off the tsunami and shut down the damn flood gates.

I know for certain I will never forget that short ride to church on such a cold January morning.
It's time to start letting go--It's her time.

But I will always "hold you" even if it's just in my heart.

Working

Interior design jobs on the side! Yeah! Finally back to some creative and inspirational thinking.

I always forget if that is left or right brain. But whatever it is, it sure feels good. Super busy at regular job.

Trying to work as much as I can for Brazil points, so that means two hours at the scrip table tonight. Soon it will mean "Working".

Ordered some old Pop, Tree, and Allegro DVD's for my own library, which are finally ready to be picked up.

After scrip I will walk the insanely boring H.S. halls for my drug of choice these days. Then home to catch up on Lost, West Wing, Guys & Dolls, West Side Story, and Grease.

Probably another scrapbooking marathon this week-end and I should cook the stupid UPS turkey before it gets freezer burn. Maybe I should pace myself.

I WANT an iBook with iMovie, iDVD, iPhoto, iLife, iWorks, and a new digital camera. C'mon, a girl can dream can't she?

Technology

The animals broke their chains to move to higher ground. Guess it's always good to go with your gut. ~ Julee

Whoa! We can put a man on the moon AND talk to each other in little boxes that pop up on your computer screen! Apparently so. I guess you have to want it bad enough, though, cuz I have a CB handle and everything and I'm getting no pop ups. That is, until Melissa showed me how to add all my friends to a buddy list. Trouble is, I have no buddies to add. So if you've been to cyber school and back, e-mail me with YOUR CB handle and I'll add you. I promise not to stalk you.

That's What Friends Are For

I love my kids and their friends. I swear, if it weren't for them life would be pretty dang boring.

If I had a nickel for everytime the dog barked over the holidays, to greet friends, I'd be rich. Oh, and richer still if someone paid up everytime Mark threatened to drop kick the dog.

But the rich ones are my kids (and me) for all the gifts of love, loyalty, and laughter that friends have brought into their lives! I want them all to know, and I hope somehow my kids have demonstrated to them how empty their lives would be if each and everyone of these guys weren't around.... In alphabetical order, of course. Amy, Annie, Ashleigh, Ashley, Brennan, Christie, David, Jake, Leah, Mary, Meg, Mooch, Nick, and Tom. I feel privileged to call you all friends of the family. And I pray that all of you find true peace and happiness as you travel down life's path and in and out of our door!

And finally, more than two years after they started hanging out and almost a year since the show ended, Ross and Rachel are finally together.

How Do You Measure A Year?

Eeeeeek!

 I'm feeling the first ever pangs of writer's block. I had a post all ready to go on New Year's Eve so I could post right at midnight, but as I reread it, it seemed trite and juvenile. What movie, book title, song would best describe my 2004?...

Five people I would like to meet in Heaven and scads of names I've grown weary of in the past year. RWT (That's the cyber equivalent of me ripping paper out of my notebook, wadding it up and throwing it away.)

I also started a Julee version of what's hot and what's not. One of my favorites on that list was...What's hot = LiVeStRoNg bracelet/ What's not = Bling. RWT.

I even had silly predictions for 2005, one of which was...."that at least 4 out of my 5, 2004 resolutions would show up on my 2005 list." Sure enough. RWT.

So I tore that one up, and thought I would write the stereotypical Christmas letter filled with immodest and self-centered facts and happenings from my year. But truth be told my year has seemed to afford me such a roller-coaster of emotions, beliefs, struggles, victories, faith, and lack thereof that I couldn't bring myself to construe one. RTW.

 Then I thought, I'll update my web page entitled Beniferissa, but I realized that if I said everything I wanted to say about them....they will, sooner rather than later, give me a hold-my-hallmark-tongue-gag-order. RTW.

And then, since it's been almost a year I thought I'd journal about my job and co-workers. But I had to RTW that one too, since the song that best described my year was....Alan Jackson's, "It's 5-o'clock Somewhere."

So for now, I'll sum up it up this way....2004= been there, done that! LIVE from Julee's journal, it's 2005! Please feel free to e-mail me if you would like to unsubscribe. Or just quit reading, your choice.