Humble Pie

Finally, after 2 1/2 years, I have found good Pizza in central Oklahoma.

The pizza joint is called Humble Pie, and they tout that they serve "authentic Chicago style pizza," and New York style, too.

I don't know a thing about New York style pizza, other than the slices are big and floppy, and you have to fold them to eat them...so why not just get a calzone?

Anyway--we went to Humble Pie last night and got a pie. They're about 40-45 minutes north of us, up in the town of Edmond, which is very much like Naperville, in Illinois: overpopulated and over priced, mostly. It's where the young money is. Yeah....lots of pretense.

But Humble pie is just a little spot in an older strip mall. Not pretentious in the least.

The deep dish crust was absolutely perfect. Thin, firm, and crisp on the bottom, meaning that they use a hot enough oven to bake the crust perfectly, but not hot enough to burn the toppings.

The toppings, we got what they call the supreme, were perfect, and the sauce, which my first taste of made me think it was too sweet, turned out to be just right.

And I am all about the sauce when it comes to pizza.

We have tried several other places that are NOT "corporate pizza," but they have failed to deliver, heh.. so to speak.

Some of them are obviously better than others---and ALL are better than corp..... but this place was, hands down, the source of the best pizza I have had in 2 years.

Yum.

Random pics from the holidays

The wine for Christmas Eve dinner.....purchased at Freeman's liquor store. Yes, seriously.
(for any who don't understand the significance, my maiden name is Helfrich...so dad's last name was that, and his mom's maiden name was Freeman....so...yeah....kinda cool, or, as my brother put it, poetic!)

My mom's cookie press, received, appreciated vastly, and used almost immediately, mixing the batter in my grandma's "popcorn bowl."

They were a little pale, because I was afraid to add too much food coloring....but they smelled just like hers, and tasted just like hers. And I cried like a fool, giggling and sobbing in the same breath!!!

I love my husband!

Not just because he periodically comes home with flowers for me, "just because."

Not because he can't wait to give me gifts, most recently, giving me my birthday gift 3 months in advance.

Not because he is the best sous chef I could hope for, chopping up the raw meat, and cleaning up after the meal has been enjoyed.

Not because he changes the litter boxes, and takes out the garbage.

Or holds doors open for me, and has trained me to allow that/expect that, after a life time of un-chivalrous men.

Okay, I love him for all of those things, the thousand OTHER things that he does for me, and for the fact that he does them all without thinking twice.

And also because he genuinely wants to do them, because he appreciates me, and wants me in his life.

Being kind to me, and respectful of me is just his nature.

This has been something new for me to get used to, and this has taken time.

Now that we've lived together for just over 2 years, and have been through so much in such a short time, I have adapted to being loved, and honored, and respected, and wanted.

And I have learned how to love in return. It's a pretty cool thing!

I've also learned, gradually, and a little at a time, to not fear imminent abandonment, or insult, or reprisal for not doing things "just so."

I've learned that I don't have to explain my actions, and that my decisions and choices will never be ridiculed.

This, also, is a pretty cool thing.

My previous relationships, one with an emotionally damaged and unavailable drug addict who abandoned me for his high, and one with a cheating man whore, who called me a bitch, insulted my very being when all I ever did was adore him, serve him, and try to please him......caused a lot of injury to my heart and soul.

The injury came mainly because I incorporated these "failings" into my matrix, blaming myself for being treated like shit.

There had to be something wrong with me to drive these men away, right?

Wrong.

Finally, after all of this time, and after David breaking down my walls like a valiant knight, I have come to a point in my life where I can safely say all of that was not my fault.

It was the fault of "those other guys," who now have new people to abuse.....and as David has said from the beginning, he is NOT "those other guys."

Never was, never will be.

I wish it had not taken me so long to heal from all of that, but healing takes place at its own rate of speed, and it is what it is.

Some people never find what we have. I know many of them personally....we are the lucky ones.

I love my husband!

"junk"

...not that, you pervs.

I'm talking about what some refer to as "junk" stores.... what my grandma called re-sale stores....and what are commonly known down here as thrift stores.

Lots of people I know refuse to shop in them. They feel it's dirty, or somehow degrading, to shop for used clothing and other stuff.

I, on the other hand, have always been a HUGE fan of hand me downs, hand me overs, hand me ups, and thrift store shopping!!

Over the past two weekends, we have gone to 4 thrift stores. Dave has to wear khaki type pants for work (Dockers, whatever)...no jeans allowed, except on Fridays. He has been needing some new pants for work.

Who am I to argue about him saying he wants to go to the thrift stores? In those trips, we have obtained his needed work pants, a few new shirts for him, and I have found several skirts and tops, and a couple of pair of jeans.

If we had purchased the equivalent of these items NEW at retail prices, we would have spent well over $300.00 by now. Seriously.

Every time I wear something new-to-me, I get compliments. When I say it came from a thrift store, I get a mixture of amazement and disgust. It's so funny!!

But I always, always get compliments on what I wear. The other day, I actually heard a couple of ladies at work talking about me after I left the kitchen... "She always dresses sooo cute!" "Yeah, she always looks nice, and I love her sense of style!"

What does THAT add up to?

No matter what some folks think of it, thrift store shopping works!

Weather concern....

It was 105 or hotter for almost 4 months out of last year.

This winter has been extremely mild. Like spring, really, for a while now.

What does this mean for the coming summer? 120?

HNY!

2011 was a real mixed bag for me.

The highlight was for sure finding and moving into the coolest house in town. At least the coolest one we could afford!!!

We went from an apartment complex that was gradually turning into a slum, while raising our rent every year, to a gorgeous 80-something year old house, for about the same amount of money per month as when we left the apartments.

Not bad!!

The house, being as old as it is, needs some work, but we can do it a little at a time. First order of business is still the insulation. My step son has now reneged on basically all of his promises to help us with stuff around here, including helping with the insulation, so we are resolved that we will just buy a roll at a time, and Dave will lay it in himself.

I still pretty much hate my job, but it's been that way for 2 years....I'm sort of used to it. The most aggravating part of the company's policies is the stupid "paid personal leave" policy.

Don't get me wrong, I am grateful to have a job, and to have a job where I can earn the privilege of being paid for not working.

However, this is the first time I have ever worked full time for a company that does NOT pay you for the holidays they are closed, for sick time, or for vacation, unless you earn those "ppl" hours first.

And you earn your leave time in increments of less than 2 days per month, for a total of 24 days for your first 5 years. After that, you get an increase in the number of hours earned per pay period, so that you can sort of begin to hope, if you can stand to work there for that long, to take a week off some time.

So, for the first 5 years of your tenure, you may feel that you have started to build up enough hours to think about taking a vacation, but then there's a holiday weekend, and hours are removed from your "bank."

Or you get the flu. More hours are removed. Or you have a doctor's appointment. Or a loved one becomes ill, and you have to take time off to go sit by their hospital bed.

It's really tough to save up any measurable time.

As a result I have worked now for 2 years without taking more than 5 days off at a time, and that included a Saturday/Sunday weekend. One of those 5 day breaks was spent moving...not exactly relaxing.

So, my plan at the moment is to see what kind of a raise I get. If it's more than the expected 3%, I might stay a while.

Unfortunately, I know via the grapevine that I make less than every other person who was hired after me. I went into this job as a former operations manager in a medical billing company, and I was hired as an entry level clerk. So were the people hired after me....most of them, with no experience.

So, it's very frustrating to know this little tidbit of information....which I could be fired for knowing, even though I didn't TELL ME that info!!

I took this job because my job at the nursing home was horrible. The worst work experience I have ever had in a lifetime of working.

This job was convenient and available, and I had hopes that I could work my way PAST being an underpaid clerk.

Anyway....if the raise is only that 3%, despite my showing my dedication and work ethic by turning in daily log sheets averaging 80-120 accounts reviewed, compared to the ones I see on the printer that my coworkers turn in, with fewer than 20 accounts on them, I am going to start a job search.

If my boss can't see that I work all day, while my co workers all shop on line, talk on the phone, or to each other, and deal MOSTLY with their personal issues while they're on the clock, then I don't need to be working for her anymore.

I'm almost freakin' 50 years old. I should be making more than clerk's wages, because I am certainly more than a clerk.


In regard to the terror stricken summer I had, Dave's health seems good, though he really needs to lose a lot of weight. I can see his weight gain in his face, even. It's GOT to change.

He decided a while back that he wasn't going to delude himself with the exercise bike we bought, and said he would start using it in January, after the eating festival that is the holidays is over.

I told him that exercising more DURING the eating festival would be beneficial, too. He disagreed.

He really likes his new doctor, and is ready to start anew at taking care of himself, starting with losing the gut. Starting now.

And, the new tenant at the condo seems great.

Of course, the original tenant seemed great at first, too, until she started to show me her crazy nutso side.

This time, though, the lease includes that the tenant is required to vacuum the carpet, clean the counters, appliances, floors, and fixtures.....so hopefully, he is doing that.

It also specifies no pets, and no smoking.

The illness of my summer seems to be passing. My adrenals recover slowly, but that's because they are damaged and don't work right to begin with.

My terror and fear over the situation with the condo was blown way out of proportion by my physical/chemical imbalance,which was triggered a few short weeks before finding out about losing the original tenant, when Dave landed in the hospital.

Piling those two things on top of 2 or 3 years of intense changes and overwhelming stress that would make anyone sit up and take notice...my adrenals went into a tail spin, and my cortisol reactions became exponentially increased.

I went through the exact kind of illness that happened after Grandma, Mom, and then Dad all died, when I experienced this kind of crap for the first time.

That time, it took over 2 years to get a normal adrenal test result back. This time, I recognized the symptoms and knew what was happening, but didn't have a doctor, so didn't get tests to confirm anything.

I knew what was happening, intellectually, but that doesn't make my stress response miraculously return to normal.

Sorry...I know I am repeating myself. Apologies.

Anyway, I have learned, since the worst of it, that I would not have lost everything if I had needed to default on the mortgage, and file bankruptcy.

"They" would not have taken away my retirement, such as it is, or my investments, what's left of them, which I inherited from my father. I would not have been left destitute.

Dave told me, after it was all over, that he'd been through just that scenario.

He said it didn't occur to him to tell me about it when I was at my sickest over the prospect.

Oh well!

So, the panic attacks have all but stopped. I still get one at random moments for no reason, because that's how my body works.

The nightmares have improved/decreased, and don't always keep me from going back to sleep. In fact, since we got the new mattress, I feel that I am sleeping better now than I have in many years.

So....that chapter is closed, thank goodness.

After taking time off to focus on my health, I am ready to return to dance classes. Unfortunately, when I approached the troupe I've been working with, as soon as I said I was ready to return, they decided to disband.

SO, I am going back to the studio where I have gone previously, where the women are stuck up, perfect little paper dolls.

I will try to find a way to fit in.

It's become clear that this studio is the only real game in town, and if I want to dance here, I need to be affiliated.

The troupe I was working with wasn't really dance trained anyway. I was the only one among them who has taken as much training as I have, and has the skill and knowledge that I have....so it was a little frustrating anyway. The woman in charge learned her 4 moves in the Society for Creative Anachonism. That was all she knew, was 4 moves, and a whole bunch of false information about Middle Eastern cultures.

Then, she went on haitus, and left us to fend for ourselves. Then I got sick and took a couple of months off....and next thing I know, the three women with whom I had been working the most decided to break off off to form their own tribal fusion troupe.

Good luck to them, with no training, and flying by the seat of their skirts....I hope they have fun.

So, despite the director of the studio I'd gone to before unfriending me on face book and removing me from all of the studio mailing lists, probably because I have had to quit going there twice, for different reasons (Dave's heart attack happened about 3 weeks after I started there the first time, then I took a full semester, and started on the next one, and had to drop out again because of a pay cut I had at work), I emailed her and reminded her that she had once begged me to come back.

She is allowing it, but I am being placed in a beginners class. Whatever. I just want to DANCE, and get my foot in the door again.

Anyway, happy new year to everyone. Here's to hope for better things to come.

I am trying not to freak out about turning 50 this year. It's easier said than done, for many, many reasons...but turning 50 is FAR better than the alternative!

Cheers!