Happy New Year!!!!


Hey everybody.  Hope you’re all well, and happy and as stress free as possible.  

We had a cute little blizzard this morning/last night, and everything looks so clean and pure and new!  Of course, that’s because I haven’t had to go outside to shovel or do any of the “real” stuff – just look out the window, and toss two winter coated shih tzus out the back door!  

I would love to hear your plans for the new year.  Your wishes, dreams, dreads, whatever.  Will ya tell me?? 

And if you’re interested in a reading, get in touch today!   My email is magzmama@gmail.com, or call me at (516) 495-9775. 


It Pisses Me Off To Be Pissed Off

Big fight with the spouse. I hate that word. Sounds like piss or something. Like a sproutie piss. Sorry. Cracking myself up here.

I don’t enjoy being angry. I try so hard not to go there, but sometimes people WANT to piss you off. That’s purely incomprehensible to me. I like it when people are sort of chill and happy. I try to nudge and prod people away from sadness or anger when it’s useless. I doubt I’m successful most of the time, but I have a plain way of speaking that is hard to misunderstand. My daughter said to me the other day “Mama, its like you love everybody. Except Puffy. You might even hate him.” And I realized that she’s right. Even about Puffy! When someone gets me so angry that I can’t ignore it, it starts to fester in an unhealthy way until I can get some peace with that person. I’ve always been bad at it, not knowing how or if I should act/speak on the anger. Then I find myself in awkward situations where I want to talk and laugh and listen to someone who I’m angry with, but I just get quiet. When and if they sense a change in me, I explain why I’m feeling pissy and usually it all gets to a semi happy ending.

I’m owed an apology, and I hope it comes soon. In the meantime, be good to each other. And tell me how it is for you to be pissed off!

About A Boy

I had found a little blurb about an air conditioner falling out the window of Louise Wise Services in the 80s that landed on a man and killed him, so I googled the agency and this is what I found.  

This is an old article written by Lisa Belkin.  It’s really shocking and upsetting.  Louise Wise Services, an agency that matched childless Jewish couples with babies seemed to have a whole lot of trouble telling potential parents the truth of where the children were coming from.  Mostly mental hospitals.  Check it out.  It’s very interesting.

via What the Jumans Didnt Know About Michael – New York Times.

Panic Attacks And Why They Suck


Today or tomorrow I will liquidate the tiny remainder of my retirement fund. This leaves me feeling incredibly stressed out. The money will pay off a few bills, but we’ll still need more. Then it will be all gone. Everything I had saved for the past 25 years or longer.

I have no health insurance, no income, and now nothing at all to fall back on. And it feels like I’m going crazy. I know I should live in the moment, but I’m about a year ahead, looking at my husband walking out on me and having no way to take care of myself, my daughter and my dogs. Im sure he would continue to take care of Kiddo, but i know that wont be a pretty scenario. And then I look ahead 10 years and where am I? Dead? In some state institution out of a Dickens novel? I don’t know what to do.

Sorry for the bummer post today. I’m feeling sorry for myself and very very afraid. And I guess I feel compelled to share it all with you, you lucky ducks! Listen, I hope you all have a much better weekend than the one that’s on tap here!



Lennox Castle Stories – Amazing What Seeds Of Destruction Can Sow

This is an amazing site that contains artwork done by former residents/patients of a hellhole mental hospital that shut down in the early 2000s.  People were put there because they didn’t go to school, or they were unwed moms, were born with Down syndrome, or just basically didn’t fit into society.  For more info on the history of Lennox Castle, click here.  Warning, it’s heartbreaking stuff.


Lennox Castle Stories : Art, Images, Videos, Text : Images.

We’re Bracing For Sandy, That Bitch!


If you click on the above, you’ll see all kinds of dopey people walking the boardwalk of Long Beach while waves are crashing and bashing what’s left of the shore.

Dennis Rutowizz, of Babylon Village, takes in the

I’m a bit further inland, thankfully, but I’m a little scared.  I admit.  I don’t like the thought of elderly people on their own in my neighborhood, or of homeless animals and people around the state.  I dread losing electricity, or having some serious damage to our home.  But I’m glad Kiddo’s school is closed and that the husband doesn’t work tonight so we can be together and play games or watch movies if the power stays on.

These ARE the good old days!  Stay safe, and I hope to be able to check in with you all soon!

Kiddo Is Afraid

Kiddo has a fear of both feathers and birds.  This seems to have come out of nowhere (although I’m very willing to blame a Barbie movie with Kelsey Grammar in it) and it now would appear to be getting worse.

Greedy Bastards

Mozzarella Thieves!

One day last month, we were on the beach, and we had opted for a snack bar lunch on this particular day.  It was of the incredibly (un)healthy variety, and included french fries and mozzarella sticks.  Kiddo and I went and got a table to wait for the rest of our family to join us from the snack bar.  No sooner did I put the freaking food down when the biggest seagull you’ve ever seen swooped down on us like a winged gangster and stole not one, but TWO piping hot mozzarella sticks.  Now, the German tourists who were watching this found it hilarious, even when Kiddo began screaming, shaking and crying with a force and energy I had never seen from her before.  She was frozen stiff, scared to death.  My sister had just stepped out toward the table and Kiddo made a break for her.  It took us a while to calm her down, and even longer to persuade her to go back to the beach.  But when she DID go back, she was now also afraid of the waves in a sharper, more phobic way.

I love birds.  I think they’re awesome.  A friend had birds while I had cats.  Her birds were all messed up mentally because she hadn’t spent enough time with them, and when I’d sleep over, they’d break out of their cages and hop around on my face.  I just wanted to take them all home, but the cat thing made it unrealistic.  When I found out I needed surgery for what I was told was breast cancer (and which wasn’t, thank God/Goddess), I ended up wandering around NYC in a zombie like fugue.  I ended up in a pet store where I found a Sun Conure that I fell so deeply love with that I harrassed my husband over and over again to go and buy him with me.  I’d go into the store, he’d go crazy, roll around on the bottom of the cage while I stroked his tummy, he fell asleep on my finger once, and the shop people offered me their employee discount because the bond was so great.  He did end up being purchased by a nice man, but I hated him with jealousy for a year for good measure.

This fear is so difficult to understand for me, but I’m trying.  Yesterday we went to an Italian festival/carnival out on Long Island, and they had an animal station type of thing.  It was the nicest “petting zoo” I’d ever seen, because they didn’t give you pellets, they gave you fresh lettuce and carrots to feed the animals.  They had baby pigs, llamas, turtles, lizards, a dwarfish cow, bunnies, guinea pigs and a few other adorable animals, as well as some baby chickens.  Yeah.  Baby chickens.  They had mixed up some of the animals in a few spots and when I said “look honey, baby guinea pigs!” there were also some baby guinea hens and chickens.  Rigid.  White in the face.  Screams. She was not right on top of the booth – she had space. She was terrified.  I didn’t know what the hell to do.  I could see she was scaring the animals, so I had concern for both she and them.  I lifted her up and put her over the fence to my sister and husband.  She calmed down and went on a pony ride.  I stayed with the animals for a while longer because I wanted to make sure I didn’t react with annoyance or anger.  It was eye-opening.  Many parents weren’t really interested in the animals, so I ended up showing the kids how to feed them and playing with the animals.  It broke my heart that I couldn’t show Kiddo.

So, what’s next?  Therapy?  Will she outgrow this?  Ugh.  You know, she’s also very shy and finds it difficult to talk to new people, but she heard me say something complimentary about a young woman I saw with some interesting tattoo work, and she said “Mama, let me go and tell her you like the tattoos.  I’ll give her your card!”  I said how awesome it would be, and she did an amazing job.

Tomorrow, First Grade begins, and I know it’s tearing her up inside.  Mama and Papa were home most of the summer with her, so it was kind of idyllic for her (for me, it was a dream come true.) But life is going to change now and all I can offer her is a lavender bath tonight with fresh jammies, and a new school outfit for tomorrow that her aunt is buying for her as we speak.  Advice is welcome. So is criticism.  I need some help. I love this kiddo!

Oh, and thanks for listening.

Lake George Sunset

Lake George Sunset by PhilaSilva
Lake George Sunset, a photo by PhilaSilva on Flickr.

I never go away. I like to be home, and I’m kind of anti-social in a friendly way. Maybe it’s why I like to write so much. But then, you get me on the phone on the right day and bitch, I’m gonna talk for HOURS!! It’s so weird – I am such a weirdo!!

The family and I are heading to Lake George next week. I have never been there. I have no idea what to expect (well, apart from a lake, that is). Are there any tattoo shops up there that I can check out? Any artists I should meet?? And probably more importantly, are there any fun places to take the Kiddo??

Packing is just not a fun thing for me. I really suck at it, as I do at all sorts of organizational bullshit. Sean Penn said about his marriage to Madonna “we both needed a wife”. Holy shit do I get that!!!!! Man, if someone cleaned the house, did the laundry, organized my life, I’d be in much better shape, although it would really freak me out and would most likely call that person a control freak. LOL.

Wanna see what my ideal vacation would be? Check it out:

I have a few more artists to tell you about that I encountered at the convention last weekend, and I’m planning to smuggle a device along to LG where I can get some type of communication through to you. We’ll see how far that goes!

I’ll miss you while I’m gone if I don’t get to scribble, and I’ll try to jump on tomorrow for a bit. I don’t like to rush what I consider to be artist profiles, so I’ll play it by ear.

Now, have you had your little summer break / vacation yet?? Where did you go? Did you love it? Did you hate it? Were there bugs?? Were there kids?? I wanna know, so please tell me.

Rumble At Trinity Lutheran PreSchool

I promised to tell you all about my incident at my daughter’s preschool last year, and here it is.  I’m going to pull photos from various sources to illustrate this in a way that only I can do! (That means sorta pathetic)

It was the year end party where the kids got all their things together for us to lug home, and we brought in all kinds of goodies and drinks.  I was having a particularly good time being the butt of all the jokes that the kids were playing and chasing them around the room to peals of laughter.  I can’t recall if I was wearing the dreaded capri type pants or if I was wearing something else kind of short, but my ankle tattoo was visible.

Now, before I tell you what happened, let me just explain that I adore Ganesh, the obstacle removing elephant headed God in Hinduism.  I’ve always wished I was Indian, loved Indian food, you name it.  I was and have been a wannabe for longer than I can remember.  One of my besties is Indian.  She believes me to be fully insane! LOL

I had never really thought of getting a tattoo before, but woke up after having a dream of Ganesh and knew I needed to have his image on me permanently. Another of my besties found a wiccan woman who was a tattoo artist on a Sunday.  I caller her on Monday and was being inked the next Saturday.  Left ankle, beautiful work from a post card I’d gotten from India.  This, my friends, was probably 1989 or so.

Now let’s jet back to the much closer past, where I’m in my mid forties at my only child’s preschool graduation party in my town, which is now largely Indian.  Clearly, this is not an issue for moi.  So, on that day – here’s a picture of my emotional state:


Photo credit: Cyn74 from Flickr

This, however was not to last.

A woman was scowling at me.  Her daughter was a friend of a kid who had tried to bully my child (4 year olds – seriously??) but I had put the kibosh on that and all was well with the pre-K world.  I sat down to take a break from the crazy kids, and she was now glaring at me. Kind of like this:

That captures the vibe.

Credit for the photo: mmmcclendon on Flickr

Now I have nothing against vampires, or angry women or Indians, but being so totally open at that moment, playing with children and truly loving every minute of being there, being aware that my child was proud that I was playing the clown made the realization that she was staring at me with an intense hatred into a sort of Twilight Zone episode.  I was not prepared.

I smiled at her.  I thought, maybe she’s having a shitty day.  Her response? “What do you have on your ankle?”  I frowned.  I thought there was a bug on me or something, but no.  It was Ganesh.  “Oh!  Ganesh,” I said.  And just as I was about to tell her how dearly I love Ganesh, she shouted at me “And how would YOU like it if I had a picture of your Jesus tattooed on my body?”

Being a sensitive person, and as I said, having been in such a wonderful emotional place just seconds before, I kind of stammered. See, I felt like this:

But I said something to the effect of “Well, it’s a free country and since Jesus does not belong to me, and even if I were a Christian, I would certainly have no problem with you having….” But she cut me off.  She shrieked at me, said something about “you people”, grabbed her (previously unknown why she was so) miserable child, and left.

I was shaken to the core.  I felt so weak, so beaten up.  Ugh.

And then I kind of felt like this:

I stayed for a while longer and played with the kids whose parents couldn’t pick them up early.  We had a great time, and I’ve never seen that bitch again.  🙂

Night night!!