Hey Everyone!!!

Or I should write no one…LOL.  No one reads these anyway…

This blog is about a grandma of mine I do not know.  Her name was Clara.

Let me give a little background info on how I even know my bio dad’s side of the family at all.

You see, it all started the summer before turning four years old.  My great-grandma Toby (Tosha was her real name. She was a Jew from Poland) passed away from cancer.  When she died, my grandma Eileen’s  (Tosha’s daughter) meddling sisters, wanted to sell my great-grandma’s house and the business she ran (Called Toby Lee, a clothing store for women in Brooklyn), and of course the condo she owned in Puerto Rico.

My grandma Eileen insisted on buying it outright but her sisters were adamant on it and was like NO.  We will sell everything and split the profit into three.  Whatever.  The other two sisters already had all the money in the world.  WTF would they have wanted more money other than to see my grandma not succeed in life?  That’s the way I look at things.

So my grandma, the pushover that she is, accepted their terms.  She took what little money she had left to find a place to live.  The cheapest she could find was a fixer upper house out in Long Island (I bet that was suggested by my aunt as she was in real estate at that time.).

In any case, I lived happily ever after there in a little town called Hewlett on Long Island.  But that was a past life.  My life turned to shit pretty much the summer before my ninth birthday.

Anyway, my real dad started looking for me when I was 13, though I have to laugh at that because he always knew where I was.  When I was 16, I saw him for the first time since I was two years old.

I saw him once more when I was 19, and actually got to meet his family.  I met his sister and his brothers….I even got to meet his parents.

They were speaking to me in Hungarian as if I was supposed to understand the language.  And according to my aunt, it was my grandma’s fault for keeping me in hiding.


But alright, let’s roll with that excuse and believe their lies.

So that’s how I know about that family.  I have an aunt that I keep in touch with…er, well, somewhat, on FB.  It’s more like I have to email her to find out what’s new and even then no one knows anything.

Anyway, I guess my grandma was really sick and had been for sometime now.  She battled breast cancer and strokes?  I’m not sure about that last part.

Well on Wednesday October 1st, I got an email from my aunt stating that her mother had passed away on Monday.  I went looking at her profile and wouldn’t you know?  Others knew about this before me.

Whatever….Doesn’t bother me.

Or does it?

Because if it didn’t bother me I wouldn’t be writing it….Right?

It doesn’t.  I really didn’t know her and it’s not like either one of us made an effort to go out and see each other.  Though I have to admit the times I was in NY I was without a vehicle but I offered several times to take a train out to see them.  I never heard back from them ever.  It was always some lame excuse as to why they couldn’t see me.


Because of them, I have learned to be truthful even if it hurts.  I’d rather someone be honest to me than to lie to me and I find out the truth later on anyhow.

What did I inherit from my grandma other than big boobs and psoriasis?

I knew nothing about her and will probably never know because they were all liars…

Although I was told that her name was Clara, spelled with a K.  I don’t even know if Stern was their real last name.  I mean a German name in Hungary?

Well, that’s all I have to say about that.

I really don’t have much else to say about Clara and my bio dad’s family.

Other than that I wish them well, and I have no ill feelings towards them.  They are who they are.  I either have to accept that, or walk away forever.

RIP Clara who I never knew…



100 Happy Days…Take Two

Hey Everyone!!!


I have tried to keep the blog going on here.  At least a blog a week, but all I’ve been doing is re-blogging older entries.  I’ve been blogging elsewhere but not really.


Last Wednesday was my birthday, but it didn’t turn out good.  I’m thinking about changing the date of my birthday from August 27th, to September 7th.  It seems less chaotic then.


I was trying to do this #100HappyDays challenge, but I failed after day 7 or so…I can’t even remember anymore.  So I figure I’ll pick it back up.  Today I picked a picture out of Pinterest.  Since Pinterest is the place that makes me happiest.  Normally I’m stuck in the geek section checking out all the Supernatural and Doctor Who quotes. LOL.


This is what I picked for day 1…What do you think?




Well, I found it funny.  I was scrolling through pics and this one tickled me the most.  Now you know I have a warped sense of humor.



Time’s Flying

Friday, April 15, 2011

Hey everyone!

How is everyone? Doing well over here; I can’t complain. My Lent went to hell as of Wednesday, but I still feel good about making the decision I did. There is only three more days, and not many people can honestly say that they can go that long giving up something, am I right?

Even when I quit smoking ten years ago, I still found myself having a cigarette at least once a month for about a year or so before the taste of it made me sick. Maybe it was a bad batch of cigarettes, who knows? All I know is I never want to touch that stuff again.

Anyway, it’s only been a bit over a month since I was really on that site, and I cannot believe how many things have changed! For one thing, you can have an email address. Another was they set the pages up weird, I can’t even begin to describe it, but I’m sure most of you know that anyway. I grow bored with this. I’m changing the subject.

I would have had this blog in sometime before midnight, but I got caught up in the world of algebra. 6 weeks down, three more to go when I am done. I think I kind of like doing algebraic equations…Okay, now I really sound like a dork! LOL. I just have a fascination with Science like chemistry and stuff, so I guess algebra would fascinate me in a way. I may be more right-brained, but sometimes I can be ambidextrous. Well, that is, until the dyslexia kicks in. Ha!

I’m running out of things to write about myself even though there truly is never a dull moment. I made a painting, but I have to admit it looks like a 4 year old painted. Nonetheless, I will post it. I can’t be too ashamed of it now, can I? LOL.

I really didn’t come up with a title. This is the painting that looks like it was done by a 4 year old.

So, as you know I post blogs everywhere due to the Myspace community spanning out everywhere and deleting their profiles in Myspace world. So in one of my blogs, I mentioned about going out to L.A. three years ago to see the cast of iCarly per Casey’s Make-A-Wish wish…That sounded weird, but anyway…moving on.

This was my favorite picture. Casey is not even this size anymore.

After my trip to L.A., I started wearing sun-block on my face because I decided I didn’t want to look so dark anymore. That’s Florida life though. Even with high SPF sunscreen, you’re bound to burn and tan. Well in any case, I toned down my face color. IDK why I’m mentioning this…I guess it’s late and I should get some sleep now. I have some homeschooling to do in a few hours. I’m a borderline insomniac from time to time. LOL.

I’m standing in back of my son. He was on crutches at the time.

So, here’s my question to you: Since I’ve been such a scatterbrain lately and can’t think of how my day went, how would you feel if I wrote short stories in here???

What’s your preferred genre?


Just Let Those Sleeping Dogs…Sleep!!!

Hi everyone!
Sorry I didn’t write in here yesterday.  I got all caught up in my math, which took me up until this morning to finish btw.  I had quite some distractions.
Yesterday, after I home schooled my child, I started working on my math.  Then I get a text from my younger brother asking me to pick up my nephew so he could sleep over.  Then a few hours later, my mom texts me saying Tyler (my nephew) is wondering when I will pick him up.  So much for the communication of actually speaking into a phone in my family.
Well, I figure to take a break from my work, and go to my mom’s to pick up my nephew.  We went to the Dollar Tree to pick up some snacks, and over to Publix for some food for dinner.  Everything seemed fine.
Around midnight, I was still working on my homework, and didn’t realize my dog was out of the room.  She’s an older dog that is very over protective of me and doesn’t like anyone else much.  She’s been known to growl at Andy, my other half, from time to time.  I’m the only one she’s not snippy with.
When kids come over the house, I keep her in the other room.  I don’t know what happened or why she was even out of the room.  I had the door shut but maybe Andy accidentally left it open.  Well, here’s the story in a nutshell.
My nephew went into the kitchen to throw something out.  I thought he went back into his room, but he decided to make a pit stop and hug and kiss Mickey, my dog.  That’s when she snapped and split his lip open.  I immediately got up, and took Tyler to the bathroom, where I soaked it with peroxide, and put a cloth on it to stop the bleeding.
Then I tried to get a hold of my sister-in-law to let her know what happened.  When I couldn’t get a hold of her, I called my brother who didn’t sound too thrilled.  I can’t say I blame him.  Nothing bad would happen to Casey when he’s in their care, and the same should go for me.  I feel awful.
Well, Tyler got four stitches in his lip, and he wanted to come back home with me.  So, I went to Walgreens where I paid 64 dollars on his antibiotic alone.  I can’t even imagine what the bill will be like because he’s not on insurance.  In any case, Andy is mad at me.  Everything is my fault…As usual.
So, my dad calls me this morning, and asks me what happened.  I told him what happened.  He said he only asked because my sister-in-law (my nephew’s mom) wrote on her FB status that it’s all fun and games until someone winds up with stitches.  But the text message I got from her was different.  She told me not to beat myself up over the whole thing; that accidents happen and he’s still alive.  So, I saved those messages just in case…You never know what may happen down the road.
That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.
I’m sorry I keep posting my life’s story like an online journal of some sort on here.  I want to start posting other things like poems and prose. I’m just, I guess, afraid of rejection and/or someone stealing my work.  I don’t know how to word that without sounding rude or conceited…I’m truly not conceited at all.  I’ve just had so much stolen from me that if I had my writing taken from me, I would truly lose it.
Day 10 is almost gone of Lent, leaving me with 29 days left.  Only 29 more days of my “not being on Facebook” banter you have to hear.
I do find it funny that even though I have not touched the site in almost 11 days, that Facebook still has a way of connecting to me even though I’m not connected to it.

“I Dub Thee Unforgiven”

Yes, I did quote Metallica, and you’ll see why…

Hi Everyone!

This is my family story…

Yesterday before leaving Boca, Casey, my grandma, and I were sitting at the pancake house eating Belgian Waffles. We were done eating, and my grandma went to pay the bill. When she got up, I noticed an elder gentleman sitting at a booth across from us. I saw something on his arm, and I turned to Casey and said, “See that man over there with the numbers on his arm?” He goes yeah. I say, “This man is a Holocaust survivor.” Now, I know I have explained this to him before, because all I talk about is our heritage.

My dear sweet child has a short attention span and forgets quickly. I explained it to him yet again about the horrors of the Holocaust, and how it’s such a shame that there are people out there that live with such hatred. My grandma was agreeing and then she mentions how her father was 33 years old when he was killed. 33????

I’m 33 years old, and I am just NOW starting to live my life. My son is almost grown, and I am going to be the child I never got to be. That’s beside the point. Anyway, that’s a part of my family that I will never get to know. That was taken away from me.

My grandma cannot prove that she was born because all the paperwork in Warsaw was burned. They really wanted to wipe out the existence of Jews. Most of my family are ashamed to being Jewish, but I don’t feel ashamed. Yes, granted, my next door neighbors are anti-Semite’s, but I don’t let that stop me. I have a prayer box hanging on my neck with the Star of David on it. Yes, it is a bit Celtic looking, but that’s what I like about it.


Anyway, I love being with family. We’re not perfect; we get on each others’ nerves. We fight and argue and when the holidays arrive…Whoa! Look out because we are all stressed out over the hoopla over the holidays. But in the end, we are there for each other when needed. No one will ever be there for you more than family, right? Well, let me tell you about a part of my family that wants nothing to do with any of us but to shake my grandma for all she’s worth.

My mom’s sister has been running away from problems since she was 21 years old. She will be 50 in September, and is still running away. Well, I won’t be a yenta and say what happened, let’s just say she got in trouble, and needed help. So my grandma wanted to know what was going on, and so did my mom.

My mom noticed I was friends with her sisters’ daughter here on good old Facebook, and asked me to send her an email asking her what is going on. I figured she wouldn’t know me, so in the message I wrote who I was, and told her I was her cousin. I mentioned that I was her mom’s sister’s daughter. Would you know I got a reply back a month later from her? A month. Here’s where the real kicker comes in.

I’m sitting at an Italian restaurant with my son and my grandma, and my grandma mentions how she wants to go to visit my aunt. She wants to take my mom, but goes if I want to go too I can. I told her to forget about it. I don’t want to go where people don’t know me nor even discuss who the hell I am.

I told my grandma how I sent my cousin an email and she acted like she didn’t even know who I was. My grandma said she didn’t. That she had to ask her mother who I was. I said yeah because it’s hard not understanding it’s from your cousin, right? That just tells me I’m not even a thought in their minds. Why should they be in my thoughts then?

It’s clear to tell when people are ashamed of their family. I say if you’re ashamed of family, then you must be ashamed of yourself. I could be wrong.




This is the necklace with the Star of David on it. You can also see this is what I wear daily. I’m such a Gypsy. LOL