Monday, October 2, 2023

Music and Memories of My Mother

“I could bear the memory, but I could not bear the music that made the memory such a killing thing.”
- Pat Conroy - Beach Music

I’m listening to David Bowie and thinking about my Mom. Growing up in my house was to grow up in a house full of music, including the Thin White Duke. I can hardly listen to Bowie and not cry. That’s what the memory does for me. The music brings to life the memories of my childhood, when my Mother and I would dance, we would sing, we would sway and we would love. Like every mother and daughter since the beginning of time, my Mom and I had our issues, but I never ever ever doubted that I was loved. That’s the biggest gift my Mama ever gave me. She loved me fiercely, unconditionally and with every fiber of her being. She instilled in me a love of good music, and did we ever rock the F** out. We went to countless shows together followed by late night dinners at either Mr. Lucky’s or The Peppermill.
We sang together in the car with the windows down and driving faster than we were supposed to, we sang at karaoke spots and piano bars, we sang in the house. I remember watching Florence & The Machine on some show, and there’s a spot where Florence’s voice just cracks with pain and it’s so damn beautiful, and my Mommy turns to me and says, “we know that pain, don’t we honey” Man, I miss her. I miss her. I would give ANYTHING to hug her just one more time. A really good one too, you know those full body, super long and loving hugs? One of those. I miss sharing life with her, but I am so so lucky that I had her for as long as I did.

Thursday, October 8, 2020

It's Gotta Be Now

It's the top of the 8th, the bases are full of Dodgers, the score is 8-3 in favor of my Bums, nobody's out and the count is 0 and 2 on Bellinger. This year is weird for sports, 2020 is weird and chaotic for everything but my guys are playing at Globe Life Park in Texas when the ALDS was being played in Dodger Stadium, it makes not a lick of sense to me but people MUCH smarter than I are responsible for those decisions. I have multiple conversations happening with various Dodger fans in my life, my Cousin, my Niece, my Dad and my good buddy. I watched Justin Turner pass Steve Garvey for the most post season hits in Dodger history, last night Cody Bellinger made a catch that had me coming out of my face with how good it is and I realize how much of a blessing it is to watch this team, to watch this group of guys grind out and get shit done, and how special they are.

This is the first baseball season since I was probably 5 years old or younger that I haven't gone to a Dodger game. I know that's a Cadillac problem, but this team is as much a part of me as my eye color or blood type, there's no changing it. The sky is blue, water is wet, the sun rises in the east and I bleed Dodger Blue.

I realized when I was messaging my with my Dad what's different about 'Dem Bums this year, it's not just the presence of Mookie Betts, although having the AL & NL MVP on my team isn't a bad problem to have, it isn't JUST that. It's that this group, Joc Pederson, Max Muncy, Chris Taylor, AJ Pollock . . . They're not going to be the same group next season. If they're gonna do it, it's gotta be now. Clayton Kershaw who has broken every record, passed historic greats, won countless awards . . . Needs a ring. He's not getting any younger. Kenley Jansen is all but done, Baby Joc is most likely out the door when this season is over, how much gas does Pollock have in the tank, and JT is in the last year of his contract with us. Now the lack of a salary cap means we've got some wiggle room, but Belli is gonna get PAAAIIIID and he should, he's a young stud who's only going to improve. I'd like to keep them all, which means I would make an absolutely awful GM. I simply can't make those decisions.

It's the bottom of the 8th now and the score is still 8-3, meaning my guys couldn't get a run across the plate with the bases laoded. Gahhhd, runners in scoring position (RISP) and NOT scoring has always been a thorn for us, but this Padres team is nothing to be trifled with. They've got a good young squad full of hot bats, when they get their pitching dialed in, look out.

Yes, athletes get paid a bunch of money to do something that most of us only dream of, but this year has been chaotic for everybody, and ball players were juuusttt about to start the season when everything shut down. They started the season at what should've been the All Star Break, now they're in a bubble and yes their families are there, but they've had to make sacrafices just like us, and they're living through insanity just like us. To show up every day and keep their heads and play good ball, that shouldn't be discounted.

I digress. I don't even know what point I'm trying to make with this post, I just know that I love this team that has been breaking my heart for so many years, and I'm so glad that I'm able to watch them make history and have fun. If we get by San Diego, we gotta get by the Bravos, neither of which should be considered an easy path. Also, Globe Life Park super sucks! It's like the anti Coors Field. Nothing goes out.

Anyhoodles, life is short, Dodger Baseball is magic.

Saturday, December 14, 2019

A Christmas Story

I love the holidays. I know this makes me a next level weirdo since this is a tough time of year for a lot of people. Hell, it's a tough time of year for me. Especially this year, with having just been laid off a few weeks ago and having a heck of a time trying to find something steady right now. But that's another story for another day. I love Christmas, LOVE IT. I love the lights, the music, the weather. Everything about the Holiday season just makes me happy. Holiday baking shows on the Food Network, Christmas movies, ALL THE HOLIDAY books. I'm all about it. Maybe it's because I was born in December, or maybe it's because humanity is a little bit nicer, whatever the reason; I am a Christmas kid. Always have been and I don't see that changing anytime soon.

2015 was a tough year, and December 2015 was going to be my first Christmas without my Mama. My Mom was a collector of people, and every Christmas she would cook a nice brunch and all were welcome. Family, friends, people who didn't have family or needed a break from theirs, it didn't matter. People would float in and out of her cute little condo and she fed us all. Christmas at my Mom's was really special, and after she passed away, I wanted to continue her tradition of making a nice breakfast for our family, friends, etc.. So, I looked up recipes, found the perfect egg, cheese and potato casserole (seriously, it's SO GOOD) bought the bacon, which I only eat once a year, and I proceeded to Susie Homemaker my ass off.

I got everything prepped on Christmas Eve, but here's the thing; I've never made bacon before. I had no idea how to cook it. I called my bestie, who has these kinds of skills, and she told me how I could make it in the oven. SCORE! So early christmas morning, I leave my lumberjack sleeping in our bed, I go downstairs, I pop my casserole in the oven, I place strips of bacon on a baking sheet and pop everything in the oven. I settled on the couch with my coffee and I'm enjoying the quiet peace of the morning. Just reflecting on the past few months, missing my Mommy. . . and I notice smoke coming from the kitchen. I thought that was normal I guess? I thought that bacon maybe smoked? Well, I didn't think much of it until it started getting a bit heavier. Alarmed, I went to the kitchen and opened my oven . . . Only to find it completely engulfed in flames. I shut the oven door super fast and called for my guy. I told him the oven was on fire. Meanwhile, I had just buzzed my Dad in the front gate, and by the time he got to the front door, the smoke alarms were going bonkers, and Philly was putting the oven fire out with baking soda.

So it turns out, I needed something to catch the dripping bacon grease. Who knew? I was able to salvage my casserole, and not do any serious damage, it could have been much much worse. Now, Philly makes the bacon. I refuse. We have people come over, our families, and a few friends. It's a nice way to spend the morning. I like feeding people, much like my Mother. Although, I doubt she ever burned the bacon past the point of recognition.

At this moment, I'm looking at our Christmasy house. The tree is up, there are lights and light-up animals outside. I have sauce in the crock pot, I made cheesecake cups with lemons from our tree for dessert, and once again I'm reflecting on the last year, and what comes next. There's definitely some fear there, I'm not really sure what happens next for me, I can only trust God that He has a plan, that there's a great job waiting who would love them some JoJo.

Life can get pretty lifey at times, sometimes you burn the bacon, sometimes you get laid off 2 weeks before Thanksgiving and have to adjust on the fly, nothing is ever perfect. But it's always perfectly mine. I'm looking forward to Christmas morning this year, when I get to feed the people I love,and build more memories . . . Maybe some that don't involve almost burning my kitchen down <3

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and I hope the magic finds you this year.

Tuesday, October 1, 2019

Sports. And Why They Matter.

Anyone who knows me knows about my undying love for the Los Angles Dodgers, they know that my heart beats baseball & that I've forgotten more stats than some people will ever know. A select few even know about my teenage rebellion where I rooted for the Braves for one season. It was Chipper Jones' rookie year, don't give me any shit. But sports for me was something I grew up with. Dodger Baseball was the bridge of communication between my father and I when we couldn't talk about anything else. No matter what, we always had baseball, we still do. I have a love/hate relationship with my team in the playoffs and my heart cracks a little every time my Lefty gets shelled. I can't bear to watch it. The beauty of Bellinger's swing, Big Leaguer Seager the double king, KiKi Hernandez playing everywhere ever, and Baby Joc just roping home runs. It's fun, and it's heartbreaking and every emotion in between.

2015 was a banner fucking year for me. (I swear. a lot. Are you new here?) My Mama had been sick for a while, and she wasn't getting better. I made a really tough decision and left a career at a company that I loved so I could be with her. That was in April, 6 weeks later my Mom was gone. Even though I knew it was coming, nothing ever really prepares you for that moment. The moment that my tether, ceased to be on this mortal coil. She passed in June, and I got pregnant in July. In August, we had a miscarriage. The hope I had, the joy I felt, that little glimmer that somehow things would be brighter, was gone. I have always been a pretty social and outgoing person. Throughout these losses, I ceased to be so. I started to retreat into myself, and I became reclusive. By the time my Gram passed away a few months later, I was completely broken. That's it in a nutshell, if you want to know more, I have a book out about this very thing ;-). A few years went by of me trying to find my footing, find my place, search for a new normal,and it was rough. I put on weight, I maxed out my credit cards, I rarely left my house.

Then, hockey happened. I have watched hockey on a surface level for years. I was mostly a Kings fan, since my love for L.A encompasses all things. But really, I watched the Kings in the 90's when the likes of Wayne Gretzky, Luc Robitaille, and Marty McSorley were on the ice. I didn't know much about the sport (I still don't if we're being honest here). I went to the occasional Wrangler game with my crew, but I was a casual fan at best. I am married to a sports guy. He's a football savant, and most of our dates were at Rebel basketball games. We are sports people. So, when Vegas announced they were trying to get an NHL team here, my dude was ALL IN.

I told you all of that so I could tell you this - Hockey saved me. Or started to. When the Golden Knights showed up, suddenly my guy and I were out of the house. Random hockey dates in the middle of the week, we met new people, we were out of the house on a regular basis, and I started to come alive again. The Knights united our city after the tragedy of October 1, and in all my years here, I've never seen anything like it. The way our city came together was brilliantly beautiful at a gut-wrenching tragic time. Through all of my turmoil, hockey helped me find my way out. Over the course of the season, our boys kept getting better and better and somehow made it to the Final in our first year, it was a ride, and I was happy to be on it. But, for the first time in years, I was happy. I had joy, and I was finding my way back to myself.

Life got real lifey over the last 4 years, and I lost myself. It was about 18 months ago, things came to a head for me. I was still pretty miserable, overweight, and I hadn't dealt with the trauma of losing my Mother, or losing our baby. I always say how blessed I am to have my friends, my husband, my family, and they all stood by me when I was at my worst. I started going to therapy (amen for outside help) I developed a regular gym routine, I started making time for my friends again, and getting out of the damn house. I fell deeper in love with my sweetheart, and we worked through some gnarly stuff. But slowly and surely I started to find my me again. She had been gone for some time. And it all started with hockey.

I turned 40 in December, I never thought I'd live this long to be honest. And while life is definitely in session, I'm living. For the first time in 4 years, I am truly living my one wild and precious life. It's short. And it's my job to enjoy it. So, sports matter in the Mueller household, and they matter in the Casey household, because, like music, it's a thing that unites us. It's a bridge that brings us together. I have a beautiful big life. And I will never ever cease to be grateful for that.

- FIN -

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Lessons

Lessons I learned from my Gram:

1 - Your husband better always be your boyfriend

2 - It's better to be single than wish you were

3 - If you cheat at cards, your Grandad will NEVER play a game with you again

4 - It's bad luck to have 2 people change the sheets

5 - Looks fade & money doesn't always last, find someone that makes you laugh

6 - Homemade lemon bars are great, but Betty Crocker is easier

7 - If your problems can be fixed with money, then they're not that bad

8 - There are no exes in this family and there are no steps

9 - No is a complete sentence

10 - When in doubt, stay out of it

11 - Take your time to find the perfect cove

Today marks one year since my tiny Grandmother shuffled off this mortal coil. She was a pretty rad lady, all 4'10" of her. She and my Grandad were relationship goals. They were married for 47 years, raised 4 kids, umpteen grandkids and a few great grandkids. She lived through the Depression, an alcoholic husband, and raised my Dad & My Auntie on her own until my Grandad came along. Their story is one that I read about in my books. She was small in stature and huge in spirit. If you've ever seen That 70s Show, Red & Kitty Foreman are my grandparents.

My Gram was working at the phone company and so was my Grandad, Jack. He asked her out a lot and she said no a lot. She said "I have two small kids at home and I need to be home with them" Sick of being rejected, my Grandad said o her "If I bring the meat will you cook it?" and that was that. Fast forward 6 months, she comes home from work and he's sitting on the couch with a big ol dress box. "Jack", she says "what's in the box?" and he looks at her and says "it's all our bills, and I'm trying to figure out with all these bills, and all these kids how we can afford to get married." And that... was that. They drove to Vegas on 5 bucks and got married. They had a really beautiful life, and they set a foundation for the rest of us, an example of what relationships are supposed to look like.

I've been blessed with a bevy of stellar women that shaped and molded me into the woman I am today, I'm eternally grateful for the strong, take no shit ladies that taught me how to live, and were always there to carry me through my messes. So, today, I honor my Gram with my words, I celebrate her unique personality and I value the lessons that she taught me.

This picture is me in the 7th grade, astride my mare, Foxy.

Monday, May 8, 2017

Mother's Day

May is not an easy month for me. It's my Mom's month. On May 30th, she would have been 64, and she celebrated her birthday all month. A tradition, that my Dad seems to have picked up as well. In between May Day and her birthday is Mother's Day. My Mama was a Diva to her core, and she liked to be spoiled, and I liked to do nice things for her when I could. Right now, I wanna hurl shit at the television every time a Mother's Day commercial comes on or I get an email or some ad on Facebook "would Mom love this?" yes, yes she would have. It's been almost 2 years since she died, and I still miss her every day. It's not the same gut wrenching, sharp pain that I felt at the beginning, but it's still there. This constant ache and reminder that something important is missing.

I am my Mother's child through and through. I am the embodiment of a flower child and a construction worker. I am the best parts of these people, and I am so grateful for the parents that I was given. I know a lot of people don't have it so good, and I was and am always happy to loan out my folks. Even though it's been almost 2 years, I'm still getting used to being motherless.. Most days it's okay, but lately with all the Mother's Day brouhaha everywhere, it makes me wanna break shit. I'm so aware that she's not physically here and it's like... glaring.

* Sideyes everything and internalizes Hallmark holiday bullshit*

Don't mind me. I'm just feeling sorry for mahself.... The reality is that I'm not the first person to lose a parent. Many people have been through this. In fact, just in my circle of friends alone there's like 5 of us who have lost a parent in the last few years. It's a level of grown up that I don't really think I'm ready for, and I don't feel all that equipped to deal with big things like Mother's Day or her birthday or the anniversary of her death.

My Mom was the balance between my Dad and I. She softened us, she made us better. She was funny without meaning to be, she was calming, and kept a peaceful home. She had a heart bigger than Texas and she always had room at her table. She wasn't without fault. She was human, and she was . . . . Special ;-) But my Mom embodied true love. She met EVERYONE where they were. She didn't judge people, or ask them to be anything different than exactly who they were. She was never quiet about her faith, but she didn't hit anyone over the head with it either. She was just fuckin' cool. In every way a person could be. So yeah, I miss her. I miss doing stuff with her. I've talked it about a lot here, but this is my little space in the world, where I can vomit out my thoughts.

So, nothing new. I miss my Mommy. Hug yours if you can, make Sunday special for her in some type of way and to all my friends that are Mamas or soon to be <3 I have all the love in the world for you. Raising kids does NOT look easy, and I know raising me was not a walk in the park. I'm rebellious and cantankerous on a good day, but my Mama saw through all that to the core of who I am and loved me through it. I miss her, but fuck am I grateful for the 36 years that I had with her.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Beware!!!! Super rambly post ahead ;-)

I spend a lot of time in the car. For the record, I LOVE my car. It's vain and ridiculous but I love it. ANYWAY - I do some of my best thinking while driving and listening to music that stirs my soul, and today on my morning commute I was reflecting on how damn lucky I am to live the life that I live. The world is burning, and there is so much ugliness out there. I'm not getting into it here, because we all read the same feeds on the book of face and the twitters and the snappy chattys. There's no need for me to dissect it all. If you read this, or you know me at all, you know I lean left.

I am coming out of the worst depression of my life. PTSD & high anxiety absolutely crippled me from 2015 on. My go-to coping skills used to be drugs, booze, and sex, but I never had to deal with anything real before. So, when life hit me over the head with Thor's hammer, I didn't know what to do with myself. Prayer, meditation and meetings gave me a little bit of peace, but the pain that I was in was immeasurable. I ate my feelings and spent too much money on crap I didn't need just so that I could feel better for five fucking minutes. As a result, I'm heavier than I have ever been and I've got some substantial debt. But these are things that I can fix. And for the first time in a long time, I want to. I'm ready to make the changes that I need to make in order to be my best self. I've set some goals already - finishing my book and getting a new job, and these are goals that I've reached, and it feels good! Setting attainable goals, conquering them, this has done WONDERS for my self esteem. I'm back on a healthy eating plan, and paying down my debt as best as I can. I'm pretty open about who I am and the stuff I go through, life is messy, and weird and needs to be talked about. We all put up our highlight reel and that's what we show the world, but my highlight reel has some glitches in it, and those glitches have made me who I am.

But this is all old news to anyone who follows me or reads this stream of consciousness. It's been 2 years since I left Zappos, and just like I stumbled into that job, I've stumbled my way into this one too. It's kinda perfect. Beautiful, messy, and fitting.

I can't describe how it feels to feel like myself again. For so long, I was a shell. And there's a few people who carried me through that. We weren't meant to walk this world alone and I literally have NO idea how I got so lucky as to have the relationships that I have, but I'm forever in gratitude about it. I think that that's something that we all need to remember, especially now when things in the world are so uncertain and scary.

I'm grateful for my sobriety, I have felt awkward, insecure, and uncomfortable in my skin for as long as I can remember and getting sober changed a lot of that for me. I'm always grateful for my Dude. Everyone that I ever "dated" told me that I was too much. Too loud, too opinionated, too extra, just too. And Philly has accepted me exactly as I am from jump, he challenges me in the best ways, and he makes me want to be better. My Dad, my constant strength in this life. He forever has my back, has always been present. I married a rockstar dude because I had a rockstar Dad. I have the best friends in the whole wide world, seriously. Both in person and online, my friends believe in me, and give me the strength I need to face every day. My authors and books have given me a much needed escape and a safe community where I feel okay not being okay. I'm grateful for great music that sounds great loud as hell, and my midlife crisis car.

I feel like this is similar to my last post, but I don't care. It's important to me to counter all the yuck in the world with something loving. I say this ALL THE TIME and it will never ever not be true, I have been blessed with abundance, and born into privilege that I absolutely do not deserve. I strive every day to be a better human, and to make my little corner of the world a better place. Thank you to each and every soul who has stood by me and guided me on this journey.