Making the Bed is Making me Weak

I'm getting weak.  This spring I celebrate my two year anniversary of having my home on the market.  I am really sick of having my home on the market.

Around Thanksgiving I got a shady cash offer (the money that was supposed to be wired from overseas never showed up).  A few weeks ago I got an offer so low that I'd have to cash in my retirement fund and get a part-time job saying "welcome to Walmart" just to be able to pay off my mortgage.  Frankly, just yesterday I was considering it.

My mom, Wheezy, says "hang in there."  She has faith that we'll get a fair offer soon.  I know my neighbors are routing for us, too.  After all, it'll hurt their property values if I sell too low.    MSN's real estate experts side with mom.  Their advice is to "stay the course" until prices are on the upswing.  Easier said than done.  The "for sale" sign in the yard is actually starting to get rusty and I yearn for the day when I can leave the house without making my bed.   But I'm staying put and cheering for other homeowners who are getting viable offers.  I figure once you sell your house, maybe you'd like to buy mine.... PLEASE!?!?!

Computer Love Phobia

I changed my relationship status from blank to "single" earlier this week on Facebook.  Several of my Fb friends thought I'd just been through a break-up.  The truth is that I've finally made it up in my mind that I'm ready to date again.  After my divorce in `04 an old boyfriend came back into the picture, but that went nowhere.  I dated a nice single dad for awhile, but it wasn't a good match.  That pretty much explains the action in my love life since I said so long to Osama (my affectionate name for my ex).  

I have to take some responsibility for snoozy-ness in the romance department .  Introduction offers have been shrugged off, internet dating poo-poo'd, the singles ministry at church ignored.  The dreaded double-nasty of a bad marriage followed by a bad divorce can be a major relationship turnoff.  I heard one counsellor say it takes at least 18 months to recover from divorce... my friend's church counsellor told him it was a MINIMUM of two years.  You have to figure out what works for you.  A good rule of thumb is you feel confident that you won't repeat the same old mistakes. 

I've got the relationship confidence, but I'm still very leary of internet dating.  For the second time in six years, I've put a profile on a dating site.  No dates yet.  This time around I refuse to even put up a profile picture.  I don't want these guys to know what I look like before I get a chance to feel them out by e-mail.  Heck, a couple private messages I received after changing my Fb status freaked me out.  I'm afraid there might be some real creep-nasties out there.  Perhaps I'm just too much of a punk for computer love.

Movie Tears

After returning from a wedding Saturday night I was on a what I like to call a "love high" and I wanted to keep the warm and fuzzy feeling alive. So, after getting home, I took off the fancy dress and pain-inducing shoes and decided to watch a "love" movie before going to bed. I chose "Marley and Me."  The movie poster featured an adorable puppy.  It stars two comedic actors and its described as a movie about "life and love with the world's worst dog."  The trailer even featured the characters played by Jennifer Aniston and Owen Wilson getting romantic in the pool while their unruly dog splashes by, ruining the moment.    How could this movie be anything but a romantic comedy with the puppy theme? 

About 3/4 of the way through the movie, I saw things going bad for Marley.  I stuck with it because I know Hollywood's rule... never kill kids or dogs that viewers have gotten to know by name.  Let's just say the rule wasn't just broken, it was smashed in my face!  I was hoodwinked.  I cried uncontrollably through the last quarter of the movie and couldn't stop sobbing for about an hour afterward.  Extreme?  Sure, but I tear up at Hallmark commercials.  Somebody should have warned me!  I have a precious dog for heavens sake! 

So, just in case you were looking for a cuddle film to enjoy on the couch with your honey this weekend...  THIS IS NOT IT.  If you hope to leave your lady in the mood for loving, then skip "Marley and Me."  It will leave you in the mood for hugging your knees to your chest while snot drops down your legs.  I feel its my duty to warn you so you won't be caught off guard.  Need a movie to compare it to?  I rank this in my top ten of saddest movies ever along with:

Terms of Endearment
Losing Isaiah
E.T.
I am Sam
Old Yeller
Fearless
Brian's Song
Million Dollar Baby
Requiem for a Dream

Hollywood, just so you know... the main character is not supposed to die especially if he/she/it is a mom, a pet (yes, that includes aliens... they never killed ALF), a kid or an athlete!

Jesus Egg?!?

With all of the bunnies and Easter eggs dominating the holiday, I should probably show some love for the Jesus egg, but....

Pink Cancers

Breast cancer, vaginal cancer, cervical cancer, ovarian cancer... there's more than 1 "pink" cancer.   Thank you to the Charlotte Checkers organization for recognizing that at Saturday's game.  Just before face off at Pink in the Rink there was a moment of silence for Lori Dubois who died of ovarian cancer last week.  If you didn't know her, believe me you would've loved her.  If you've ever been to Taste of Charlotte, you've been to one of her parties.  She co-founded the city's premier festival with her husband, Matt, and his brother and sister in law.  Lori was a force of light who brought me to tears with her plea to get my co-workers and me to help her raise money for cancer research. 

When the Checkers put Lori's picture on the monitor, for a few seconds I was able to make sense of losing this 41-year old mom.  During that powerful moment of silence I believe every cancer survivor and supporter understood the importance of being there last night.  It became painfully clear that there is so much more we need to know about the prevention, detection and treatment of women's cancers.

1 Pound?!?!

Went back to the doctor last week.  I have to go every three months for a diabetes check-up.  Been making some small changes in my eating habits to help get "the sugar" under control.  Well, those small changes have brought me VERY small results.  After three months of cutting back on sweets and trimming my portions I've lost a whopping 1 pound.  1 itsy bitsy little pound. 

I figured its time for drastic measures.  1 pound in three months means I'll reach my goal right about some young preacher is giving my eulogy.  At first I thought I needed to hire a kung fu/bootcamp trainer to chase me around my neighborhood... or maybe a liquid diet that only allows me one sip of cabbage soup every four days.  I finally settled on a gown.  A gown 2 sizes too small to motivate me to lose weight before the Gracie Awards.  It's a gorgeous fucia silk Calvin Klein gown and get this... it was only $49.99.  I brought it home and hung it in a spot that would force me to look at it every single day. 

I've looked at it for five days now.  The color is starting to remind me of cake frosting.  Dang, that dress is making me hungry!  I'll probably take it back this weekend... before the store's return policy forces me to keep it.  Why not try to crash diet my way into it?  I've been crash dieting since the age of 11!  I need to stick to the healthier methods of taking the pounds off.... or should I say "pound" off. 

The small changes in my diet can lead to bigger changes if I stick with the program.  Bigger changes will eventually lead to a smaller, healthier Ramona.  I've got an appointment to see my doctor three months from now.  I've promised her that by then I'll be down 2 pounds.

What the Gracie Means to Me

Shocked and hopeful.... my reaction to winning the Gracie Award for radio comedy two years in a row.  I got the word just over a week ago from AWRT (American Women in Radio & Television).  The national awards will be handed out at the Beverly Hilton in Los Angeles on May 25th.

Pardon me while I brag for a second... but despite being 1/2 of the most consistently funny show on the radio, I wasn't expecting to win two years in a row.  I just didn't think that could happen.  I likened it to a teacher who knows you have the right answer, but calls on another kid to let them shine too.  Heck, it took me eight years to win the first one.

Now what?  I'm not as nervous about finding the right dress for the black-tie gala I've got a better understanding of what to wear on the red carpet.  I've already secured an escort, my partner Matt Harris.  The company is handling travel arrangements and our agent, Heather Cohen says she'll greet us with open arms and champagne bottles.  Gayle King, Katie Couric, Selena Gomez, Jada Pinkett Smith and Barbara Walters are also winners this year and I plan to bug each and every one of them for pictures.  Our only issue is that our amateur photographer, Matt's wife Amy, will still be on bedrest when we take the trip. 

Beyond the ceremony I'm hoping this award brings attention to the "Matt and Ramona Show" and "The Satisfied Life."  We've been tweaking both programs in hopes of growing in syndication.  Lots of folks put lots of time and energy into creating, producing, marketing and selling our product.  I pray the Gracie is the stepping stone we all  need to climb to the next level.  

Wheezy Has a Dream!

Mom delivers Black history address at Simpson Gillespie United Methodist Church.
"there is a West African proverb that says 'it takes a village to raise a child.' Well,
our village is failing our children.  The average Black 12th grader reads on the same
level as the average White 8th grader.  Our schools need our help."