-         Frosted Art on Edison St, Dallas

-         Baby Dolls on Shady Trail in Dallas or W Division in Arlington

-          Whataburger has 7 locations in Arlington, and 4 in Grand Prairie (where my sister works)

-         Center for Animal Research in Bridgeport (to see our tigers)

-         Gun Barrel City (I lived here!!)

It's starting out to be her best year yet

Okay, so I have some updates for those of you reading this!!!  I have spoken with my dad a few times, and I am going out to see him in January!!!  Little freaked out!!!!  But excited just the same.  We are going out for my sister's 21st birthday!!  I have already made a list of questions for him...

I actually wrote a little piece for the newspaper.  My boss suggested it to bring some hope and love to the daily depression that has been reported.... Here is the prototype... Let me know what you think...

My Christmas Story

            24 years ago I was adopted. Not in the usual sense as my mother was my biological mother. She met and married the most wonderful man. This most wonderful man adopted my brother and me. I went from a McNiel to a Catalano in the signing of some papers. I was really too young to grasp the depth of this decision, but it would come to be the greatest moment in my life… Till now!

            Paul Catalano met this woman with two small children and fell in love. He dated, and then married the woman. This is not all that uncommon. What makes this event so wonderful is what he became to those children. He became much more then a step father. He became their God father, and then their Adopted father. Never did these children ever feel less then blood. Paul’s family accepted and loved the children as well and soon it felt as if the children were always a part of the family. Though the woman was not meant to be around for long, the children were nothing less then true family. 

A true test came when 3 years after the adoption another child was born. This one WAS blood. This one was truly of Paul’s loins. Yet looking back, I never felt any sense of dread or fear. You see I am one of the two children Paul adopted, and though I knew he was not my blood father, I was NEVER made to feel that way. Upon the arrival of my little brother, our world just felt more complete. He was never treated better or more special (other then the traditional youngest child stuff.) 

I am sure that you are curious as to what this has to do with my best Christmas yet, and I promise I will get there. I am laying some ground work to establish just how special this is!

I am not sure when I started asking question about who I was and where I came from, I just remember around the time of my parents divorce the need to know became stronger. Once my parents realized that they just weren’t meant to be and divorced the most unconventional thing happened, my dad (Paul) fought for us. Here is a man whose life was turned upside down and now included THREE kids. He was still young and in the prime of his life. Here was his chance to return to his care-free days. Do you know what he did? HE FOUGHT FOR US!! This most wonderful man raised all three of us on his own. His love for us was limitless, and trust me, we tried those limits on quite a few occasions. 

I do digress, so around the time I about 12 years old and I remember my dad telling me to find Mark (my biological father,) but that he did not know very much about him. This is where the search begins. My mother was adopted and so was I. I felt that I have no roots, no traditions, and no real history. I felt a bit lost and lonely. I had tons of family, but their stories, their histories were not mine. I could not really connect with them in anything other then wistfulness. So search I did.

In the last 17 years I have searched the internet high and low for a trace of Mark. I have had many leads that only lead to disappointment. I have shed many a tear in frustration of my fruitless search. Life went on, and the older I became, the more intense my need also became. The letters, the emails, and the phone calls measured many and all failed. I would give up for weeks, to months at a time, but I was always drawn back in. I felt like a moth drawn to a flame. No matter how many times I was burnt, I had to return to the search.

AND NOW 17 years later my questions are about to be answered. At the insistence of my husband I paid for a background check. He kept telling me if it worked it would be the best Christmas present ever. The report consisted of 15 pages and was a bit overwhelming. I had to proceed with a different strategy. I decided to write to the people listed as knowing or possibly being related to Mark instead if writing to the addresses of Mark McNiel. I sent out about 15 letters and held my breath.

TWO DAYS LATER:

On the way home from work I get a phone call on my cell phone from a weird number. I answer, curiosity heavily lacing my voice. A woman announces herself and claims she knows my dad. Okay, I am thinking to myself, why would one of dad’s friends call me? She goes on to tell me she is my aunt and knows where I can find him. By then it dawns on me that she is talking about my other dad. My heart jumps, then races. My palms start sweating and all I can think… and say, is “You had better not be messing with me, I really could not handle that.” She goes on to tell me how they had all just been talking about me at Thanksgiving and looking at old pictures. I spent about 45 mins on the phone and learned that I have another brother, and he lives an hour and a half from me, AND I HAVE A SISTER! This happened around the beginning of December and I am still in shock over the sister thing! 

I have spoken with my dad (Mark) on several occasions and have planned a trip to Texas to see him! I have a book of questions to ask, as I am afraid I will forget them if they were not written down. I am also very excited to meet my sister and have already spent a day with my other brother. This is all very exciting, and well and a bit nerve-wracking. I would be lying if I told you I was not nervous, and just a bit scared. 

Okay, so about 17 years ago I started looking for the man that helped create me.  I could get long winded and tell you my whole life story, but I would rather just skip ahead to the good part!  17 years of looking for a man that could help tell me who I am, and have had no luck... TILL NOW!!

I found a hit online and paid for a background check.  I figured it was a long shot, well... Actually Paul pushed my into it.  He convinced me that I had to do it... and I did!  I was given 15 pages of names, addresses, and so much more.  So I figured instead of going by way of Mark I would change tactics and try and go through people who might KNOW him.  I sent out about 20 letters and figured nothing would come of it.

BOY WAS I WRONG!!

I get a call from a woman letting me know that she received my letter and she knows my father. She asks me if I remember her, I reminder her that I was 3 when I was brought back.  She tells me she still remembers me, and tells me that they still talk about me and wonder where and how I am.  We talked for quite a bit.  I think the bits that stand out most to me are (not in order of importance):

A: My uncle use to rib me about my inability to keep my shoes on (sound familiar?)
B: I have a brother AND a sister!! One of which lives about an hour and a half from me!!
C: I will ACTUALLY get the chance to talk to him tomorrow!!!

There was so much more, and I am still hoarding it to myself.  I am working of the positive thinking going on.  There is almost a small part of me that is nervous about tomorrow.  What if he does not call... What if he does?  What do I say to a man I have no recollection of ever talking to.  What does he expect of me?  What should I hope to expect of him??  Oh man, this is going to be a LONG night!!!

PS, did I tell you I have a SISTER (I have always wanted a sister!!)






 

First off I would like to apologize if I do not make much sense, I am in much pain, and pretty doped up.

My Week:

Monday was my pre-op for my lithotripsy.  It was the standard boring speech on what could happen, the chances were so low that anything could happen.  Other then the severe pain from passing the little pieces of, what I am call, shards of glass-like stones.  I was given some pain meds and told it would take about 4 hours, from check in to check out.

Tuesday was the day before my surgery, and I was in so much pain I spent most of the day on my heating pad.  Counting down the hours to glass peeing...

Wednesday I went into work to make sure everything was in line.  11:45 my baby brother picked me up to take me in.  Check in was 12:15... fill out forms, take off jewelry and give it all to Tyler (my brother).  I am not to have any valuables with me.  Tyler says good-bye, and I wait.  I am finally called into the back and subjected to a pregnancy test (Which I fought and explained it was a waste of time, and money.  They did not care and had me do it anyways) that came back negative (take that you jerks).  I was asked a million more questions, and asked to remove my tongue bar.  Nipple bars got to stay in!!  The guy that checked my in was not pleasant at all, I found him borderline rude.  The nurse that brought me back was not much better.  Cari, the nurse that took over was WONDERFUL, the surgery staff checked in with me, and they were great too!  I was brought into a room, and the next thing I knew I was crying in horrible pain.  It was 3:30 I had just come out and woke up pretty quick.  It took over 3 hours to get my pain under control.  My recovery nurse (can not remember her name) was the best!!  She had a great sense of humor, and was the right amount of playful!  After 6:30 I was released to go home.

12:00am my pain is starting to increase, I take a pill
12:15 am pain getting worse, take another pill
12:30 am I start getting sick, over the next 45 mins I get sick 3 times.
1:15 I get through to the 24 hr advice line and am told to go to the er
1:20 I wake Paul and stumble to the car.  The pain is so great I cannot even think straight. I get to the er and my blood pressure was 223/138 and I can barely breathe I am in so much pain.  I actually enjoyed being poked for an IV, as the pain was a distraction from the massive pain in my side (anyone who knows me, knows I am petrified of needles).  The nurse was digging into my hand with no luck, and I did not want him to stop.  Finally he was able to tap a vein on my other arm.  I got sick again, and just hoped for death.  4 hours later, and a variety of drugs later I am at a pain level of 4 and my blood pressure is down to 130/88.  I was given stronger pain pills and anti-nausea pills and sent home.

Thursday was a blur and here it is Friday, and I am still really out of it.  I am hurting, and dizzy, and wobbly.  I know that I can only get better (please oh please).  I hate that I have missed so much work, but I will be better off in the long run... right?? 

So these are the things that I remember, though it is all a bit fuzzy, so I could be off somewhere... 

I just know that I hate lithotripsy as much as I hate kidney stones... I would not wish it on my worst enemy!! 

Think I am fading again, so I must finish

love and support
S

YAY, it's almost here!!!  My favorite day of the year!!!  A day when you can let your mask down, and be yourself, or live out a fantasy and be someone else.

I could be really off base here, but I would like to type you my view on costumes:
I feel that a person is drawn to and idea or a costume that suits them.  Their costumes are an indication, or a glimpse of the person.  It is a way to let your mask fall, and unleash the inner you.

For example:
A woman dresses in concealing clothes all year, but always dresses more sexy on Halloween.  She is hiding a very passionate woman inside of her!  Now why she feels the need to hide this passion I can not tell you.

A person that puts little to no effort into a costume is probable a bit insecure, and/or is missing their fun/creativity gene.

A person wearing a similar or same costume repeatedly could be a sign of something they want people to know about themselves, but are afraid/unable to reveal through the rest of the year.

Someone dressing like "the devil" has a vindictive side, and I would be aware of them, keep your eye one them.  They could also be more of a trickster, not truly evil.  They would be the one to play pranks, and LOVE April Fool's day.

Someone dressed like "an angel" is probably hiding something.  I am pure and innocent, I swear! 

Someone dressed like a witch is either a true witch (pagan), or is unimaginative, this seems to be a fall back costume

Someone dressed like a Vampire, cat, or zombie (or dead) are using fall back costumes, or unimaginative (unless they have added a twist)

Dead Brides or Grooms are a sign of fear of commitment, or reluctance to be in the relationship they are in now.

Wearing a friend or family members work uniform shows lack of imagination or effort (once again, unless adding a twist)

There are more, but I am sure this is enough fodder for the fire!!

PLEASE REMEMBER, THESE ARE NOTHING MORE THEN MY INTERPRETATION.  I HAVE BE KNOWN TO BE W-W-W-WRO-WRO... misinformed

So... Last Saturday was my 10 year reunion.  I was conned into going by a friend (who I did not even know in HS), thanks Joe...
Last Saturday was also another Halloween party we had been invited to.  Reunion started at 6pm, cool party at 8pm.

So I mentally prepared myself for my reunion.  I mean it has been 10 years right?  All of my emotional scarring and trauma should have been healed and gone.  No problem.  Go in, hang out, and leave.  Easy as pie (which makes me wonder why we say that... pie is not easy to make, nor is Pi easy to remember).

$100 later, and a nervous ride there, we arrive.  My hands start sweating, I start trembling and my stomach starts churning.  I think this was a BAD idea.

I sign in, names badges for Paul and I.  I look around.  Everything is stark white, and the lights are on full blast.  This is not a calming environment.  There are only appetizers, water and coffee... What did I pay $100 for again?  I guess it was to be uncomfortable for a couple hours, then run for the hills.

I am pleased to say I did get to talk to one nice person from school.  Though I was so nervous, and uncomfortable I don't really remember what was said, and I can not guaranty I came off very pleasant.  I hope I did, She is a really sweet person!!  The one person I REALLY wanted to see was not there... JENNIFER WHERE ARE YOU!?!?!?!?!

One of the mean popular girls came up and said hi, and all I could say was "Hi, this is my husband,"  then hide behind him... I think I lasted a full 45 min before I was begging Paul to leave.

Did you know that time changes very little?  That after 10 YEARS you could still be traumatized by high school??  Why is that?  Why should I be afraid of these people. They have no current influence in my life, and I had hoped that I had grown past it.  Just thinking about that night, and I start trembling again.  I think I will pass on my 25th...


I would like to think I am a very forgiving person, and that I have grown into a wonderful human being, but being in that room with those people had me feeling insecure and inadequate...  If I had not had such a GREAT time at the party later that night, I probably would have gone home and cried myself to sleep... High School all over again...