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Tilting at Digital Windmills

Tilting at the Digital Windmill.   Because I (and I imagine the majority of you are so sick of politics, both local and national) I would like to try to bring us together by expressing my abject frustration at the most unreliable, elusive and (I’m starting to think) truly evil necessity in our brand new post Covid-19 World.    To begin this tale, I will channel the ghost of Sophia Petrillo. Picture it. Middletown, 1980 It was a sunny September morn and I, like many a devious child, preferred laying on the couch, watching Sale of the Century and being waited on with ginger ale and rye toast to the horror of actually donning my plaid kilt attending St. Mary’s Elementary school.   So I mess up my hair, splash my face with warm water and put on my saddest poor me face for effect and mope over to my mom and muster up the words in my best downtrodden voice ‘Mommy (always use the extra M-Y for maximum adorability) I think I’m too sick to go to school.’ And my mom, like most moms at 7am , woul
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Try-Hards and WannaBes

Try-Hards and WannaBes Once upon a time there was a frighteningly awkward six foot tall teenager, complete with straw-like hair from Sun-In and bad perms. She was what the kids today might call a ‘try-hard’.  In the 80’s and 90’s, we called them ‘wannabes.’ She tried too hard to fit in. She tried too hard to make friends and tried way too hard to make teachers and coaches like her, so calling her a try-hard back then would have been an appropriate addition to the nicknames she was given. Amazon, Loser, Wannabe and the dreaded Hodown. Yup, Hodown, the one that would truly stick.  All because one time in 8th grade I...I mean SHE dared to wear her brand new white fringe leather jacket to school the day after Dolly Parton wore the same one on her ABC special entitled the Hodown Showdown. Thanks for that Peter. Now when you're a WannaBe, there has to be someone you want to be for it to have meaning. So, Once upon a time in Middletown Catholic School, there was a girl named Nikki. S

Elections and Emojis

With Election Day just around the corner, I am struck by an overwhelming feeling towards the local Middletown elections that can best be described as 'Meh'. 😕😕😕 Now anyone who knows me, knows I have a long held  aversion to emojis, mostly because I am not a 9 year old girl. But, in this case they may be on to something because everything about these elections leave me with the urge to just not give a shit. (Yeah, I know I cursed, you're an adult, you'll live.) And yet, I am always the overexcited cheerleader touting the importance of voting in every election. So, I'm going to take you through my thought process on why I am so very Meh 😕😕😕 and how I plan to motivate myself this election cycle in Middletown and hopefully inspire a few of you to go from 😕😕😕 to 😍😍😍 when it comes to voting in our local elections this year. (Okay, I'm done with the emojis now, because I am dangerously close to kicking my own ass.) This year there are 2 local races, alth

Thank You, Middletown! Now Lighten Up!

'Why Laughter May Be The Best Medicine for All of Us.' It's been almost two months since my stroke and I know I need to write about it to move on but for the life of me I just couldn't find a singular point of view. There are so many facets to surviving something this scary and I think it's important to keep with the intent of this blog, which was never meant to be especially personal, but more Middletown-Centric. So after much internal deliberation, I've decided on this.... Thank you, Middletown Community, both friends, family and acquaintances from the bottom of my heart. You saved my life. You supported and continue to support my family and no amount of verbal or written appreciation seems to quite cover how I feel about the support I have received....Now, that said, I think it's time we lighten the hell up a bit. About everything. From politics, to planning; school policies, to pot holes; It would seem we have collectively decided that inconvenience an

Classs Rank For Sale

' How the Middletown BOE is Slighting the Middle Class' Every time I turn on the news, and admittedly, I watch way too much news lately, I am confronted with this New Reality we live in politically. Growing up, politicians fought hard to be seen as  centerists. Compromise was an  essential skill required to be a successful politician. Bush, Clinton, Bush Jr., even Obama was far more middle of the road than the left would have liked. I heave spent entirely too much time and energy asking myself how we got here...this land of extreme ideology. Whether you are Republican, Democrat or Independent, I think we can agree that Trump is an extreme. Bernie Sanders is an extreme... Both sides seem  very adverse to meeting in the middle. Now I know there are thousands of reasons why this happened, all valid in there own way...Money, Corporate Greed, Wars, Inequities, Economic downfalls, the mortgage crisis, etc. Today, I offer one common denominator I see in all of them...The Middl

Moist, Coins, Dungarees and Blouse

' And The One Word I Hate More Than All Of Them' Anyone who knows me personally, knows I have a few, shall we say 'lovable quirks' sprinkled with just a touch of crazy. Well, one of these 'quirks' is an aversion to certain words in the English language. Now, I'm sure you've seen and read an article or two on people who throw up in their mouth a little (like myself) when they hear the words moist, dungarees, blouse, or coins, but there is another word that I find so overwhelmingly overused, misused and annoyingly politicized that the mere whisper of it can send shivers of disdain down my spine and immediately inspire distrust in my mind towards anyone who dares to utter it's four syllables. TRANS-PAR-EN-CY Blech...Admit it. Isn't it just the worst? It inspires thoughts of politics and politicians and secrets and boredom and all the things we should care about and don't and then feel guilty about because we don't really feel guilty that

How Did We Survive Our Childhood?

How Did We Survive Our Childhood? 'Well, The Truth Is, We Failed....A Lot.' Recently, a friend posted on her Facebook page 'How did we survive our childhood?' It was in response to another mother trying to fix a problem her middle-schooler was having. Little Susie was coming home starving because of issues she was having with the lunch lines. It's a story we've all heard hundreds of times...Parents judging each other for micromanaging their children's problems. We're all guilty of it. I know I am. I gotta tell you though, I don't feel especially guilty about it. Its not because I don't empathize, or that I want to see kids upset or hurt. But for the love of Sweet Jehovah, you aren't really helping anyone by not letting them fail. Do you know how we survived childhood in the 60's, 70's, 80's and even the early 90's? We Failed! A lot. Before there were elitist, intellectual child rearing terms like 'Helicopter Parentin