Twas’ the Night Before Christmas…

Merry Christmas everyone!  I hope everyone’s holiday was as warm and festive as mine was.  On Saturday, Christmas Eve, I went with Frank to his family’s house in Brooklyn.  Nothing like partying with the Eye-talians; we had what seemed like a 15 course seafood themed dinner.  The deliciousness included calamari, a vat of ciopinno, which is like a giant fish stew, seafood salad, lobster tails, (which OMG I actually ate; I never eat seafood) and many more edible delights I can’t pronounce or remember, all prepared by Frank’s stellar chef cousin.  Note to self: “Make one of my future children a professional chef, this way I never have to cook for the holidays”.  Our feeding bonanza concluded with every kind of dessert you can think of and the unwrapping of presents by the Christmas tree. 

Here's a picture of ciopinno!  It's so much fun to say the word, pronounced cho-pino.

On Christmas Day, Frank made sure we woke up at the totally convenient time of 7:00am to get to Mandy’s so we could watch Kaylee wake up and see all of her presents.  Mandy and Justin were so excited to be woken up at 7:30am by an overzealous Francis and myself.  Nothing was more adorable than watching her face light up when she saw all of the boxes surrounding the tree.  Note to self: “Only buy toys that do not need instructions OR batteries”.  Her favorite item was a Little Tyke battery powered train from Uncle Frankie.  Kaylee can actually sit on it and ride it around the kitchen.  It’s Tuesday now and I am pretty sure she still hasn’t stopped riding it yet.

From there we went back to Frank’s house where I was spoiled rotten by his family.  Picture the quintessential rotating red and white Christmas tree with tons of expertly wrapped color coded presents all around.  Frank’s living room layout looked more like a Martha Stewart holiday ad or the centerpiece decorated tree found in Pier I imports.  I started crying on the way home from his house because no one person deserves so many things.  The list included Hunter rain boots, all seasons of Dexter, every perfume imaginable, clothes, (including my favorite but way too expensive brand Free People), an IPad, digital camera, video camera, pj’s, and jewelry.  I must have looked crazy driving home with a carful of unwrapped presents and tears streaming down my face. 

When I got home I had Christmas with my immediate family around 3pm, which is actually the earliest we’ve ever had a Christmas in the Bayiokos household.  Usually mom’s screaming for us not to come downstairs until after she’s done wrapping, which is ALWAYS after 12pm.  I keep insisting that she just throw everything into a giant gift bag, and that at 26 years I am pretty sure I have figured out that it’s not Santa who’s been leaving the presents all along, but she doesn’t care.  Note to self: “Get everything wrapped beforehand at the mall.  Saves time and Santa’s elves from A LOT of stress Christmas night, or in our case, Christmas day”.

 I am always so excited to give out the gifts I have bought for others.  I enjoy surprising those I love with a truly awesome gift.  Frank summed it up best, “My favorite gift was seeing how happy Kaylee got when she opened her train”.  In giving we are actually receiving. 

I hope everyone had a Christmas filled with happiness, friends and family.  It’s a time to reflect on the things we have instead of the things we don’t.  I am fortunate enough to have all the people I care about and all the things I need in life.  I have found that God always gives me what I need and not everything I want, and I am fine with this.  There are so many people with much less, more hardships and more problems and I am grateful for and recognize that my struggles compared to others are thankfully minuscule.  For me that is what Christmas is, to be happy to stand around the brilliance of a Christmas tree with all the people that were able to stand around it the year before. 

And of course, it’s a time to reflect upon religion, something for which I admittedly do not do often enough.  The stories that all religions pass down are beautiful and worth sharing from generation to generation.  Even the atheist has to admit that the morals and ethics that are taught by religions are worth hearing and have lessons to be learned that are pertinent to all.  So, keeping in tune with my Catholic faith, this is one of our most sacred holidays, the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Without his sacrifice none of this would be possible.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

The Games I Play with my Niece

Who knew that I could fall in love with someone so small?  Today’s blog revolves around my niece.   This tiny girl has so much spunk and pizzazz without even being able to formulate sentences yet.  The innocence of a child is, I suppose, the most endearing quality of every child.  The insane frustration that builds up inside me when Kaylee wakes up at 7am melts away when she crawls up beside me in bed, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, and begins talking in baby gibberish.  Sweeter words have never been spoken.

Making up songs and dances and prancing around the living room like a crazy person is actually kind of fun. I love being able to solve the world’s problems for her by simply retrieving her favorite toy that’s perched too high or refilling her juice bottle.  I feel like Superwoman, but at the same time I worry for the future about the things I won’t be able to fix, like a personal setback or a broken heart.

I wish there was a way for me to bubble wrap her, to make sure she’s always safe and sound, as impractical and unhealthy as that is.  As my grandmother once said, “I didn’t know how to be a parent; children don’t come with a handbook”.  It is nature or nuture that is mostly responsible for churning out a good child?  What am I doing wrong, what am I doing right?    

God plays this crafty trick on women.  One day you’re worrying about your weekend plans, your hair appointment and your shopping excursion, and BAM out of nowhere you start thinking, almost wanting a baby.  It’s like God created a schedule for women.  From your first menstrual cycle, to your biological alarm clock setting off, to menopause, God has predetermined women’s lives and even our thought processes.  Not so for men.  Why? The injustice of it all.  How will being a mother affect my plans of world domination?  Seriously.

Veering back, having a niece has brought out qualities in me that I did not know I had.  The patience I have developed when I find my niece drawing on my bedroom wall with my favorite eyeliner, or dumping the dog’s water bowl again, has surprised me.  Don’t get any ideas; right now I am completely content with just being an aunt.  That 24/7 job is still on the backburner for me.  I like having a baby sometimes and then being able to give her back.  I still use way too many wipes when she has a diaper-full of number 2 and I have not quite mastered the art yet of whipping up food in 5 minutes flat for baby.

In less than 2 years of her existence I have consistently learned every day from her, how to love more, how to be more patient, and unfortunately how to worry more.        

I guess my point is that while children are still young, and while kissing their boo-boos will make them feel better again, relish the time you have with them, because today’s problems will not be tomorrow’s.  In years to come when you’re worrying about college tuition, the tough looking guy that seems to be hanging around with her an awful lot, and the nose ring she has been hinting at getting, you’ll look nostalgically back at the time when all that would suffice was a lollipop and a kiss. 

"Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all.  Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me.  And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff.  What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them.  That's all I do all day.  I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all.  I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be."  ~J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

In-Flight Fears

Wanting to be a world traveler is tough when you are terrified of traveling. My job recently offered the opportunity to attend a week-long training in Uruguay.  I have never been, and one of my bucket list goals is to visit every country in the world, (as far fetched as that is) so this is right up my alley.  However, I have a crippling, debilitating fear of flying.

Indeed, my fears have become progressively worse over time.  In my younger days I was fearless and immortal, a far cry from the cowering creature that scribbles impromptu wills shoved under my pillow before traveling anywhere. 

So why this overwhelming anxiety over flying?  Statistically they say you are more likely to get into a car accident than a plane crash; however I find this statistic grossly skewed because the number of times you drive is far greater than the times you will fly in your lifetime.  Also, the probability of one walking away from a fender bender unscathed is insanely higher as opposed to walking away from a plane crash.  You do not get fender benders in the sky.  You hit a goose in the air you go down, (as evidenced by the miracle on the Hudson) you hit a goose on the street and you get a messy windshield.

This leaves me in a most uncomfortable conundrum.  I have tried sleeping pills and muscle relaxers to help ease my nerves during the plane ride, however my adrenaline pumps so hard while in transit that the pills only become effective when we land.  Once I got so hysterical on a plane ride from Florida, which is a mere two hour flight (in my defense we hit the WORST turbulence), that the kindly flight steward brought me warm, first class Mrs. Fields cookies to pacify me like a child.  Score on the munchies, but screwed by my embarrassment. 

My poor boyfriend exits planes with 10 tiny nail marks on his knees and hands, and with frazzled nerves from spending hours trying to get me to calm down.  From all this you would think I have only flown a handful of times in my life but no, I have been to Jamaica, Italy,(three times) Brazil, suffered plane rides to different states for collegiate soccer games, Las Vegas, (twice) Aruba, the Bahamas, Florida and Cali.  You would think I would get better with this stuff. 

As if I do not have enough of my own neuroses to drive me mad, I start suspiciously eyeing travelers behaving weirdly or flying solo.  Why is that carry-on luggage so oddly shaped?  Forget the panicked look on my face when the turn seatbeats light blinks on, you should see me when I spot a morbidly obese woman two rows ahead of me.  Will the equilibrium of the plane be thrown off?  Why are so many people standing waiting for the bathroom?! Why is that mother allowing her child to JUMP on the plane?  Didn’t the pilot look rather young?

Did you know the highest risk of a plane crashing is during take off and landing?  That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  I had previously dismissed being hypnotized but now that treatment method seems much more alluring considering how much this fear is stifling my lifestyle.

Needless to say, I am still vacillating on whether or not to go to Uruguay.  I envy those that take a plane ride like it’s a bus ride and not a monumental life changing experience like it is for me every time.  I am totally open to any therapeutic remedies, so please send along your advice freely; because a life spent hiding is a life not lived.        

Yoga for Idiots

Happy Saturday lovers!  Today I would like to share with you my yoga experience this past Thursday.  Actually, I would like to start from the beginning, which was about a year and a half ago.  I had heard about Bikram Yoga through a cousin who raved about it.  At first, I was hesitate, fighting with the little voice inside my head, “Yoga Cindy?  You’re not a yoga person, you run, play soccer, occasionally lift, yoga is for eternally happy and blissful people, people that live in a world of sunshine and rainbows, and that’s not you”.

 I was also concerned about my zero experience level.   How can I just jump into a class if I know nothing about poses?  I can barely touch my toes without my knees quivering; don’t you need to be somewhat flexible?  And from what I heard, Bikram Yoga is pretty intense.  90 minutes doing poses in a 100°+ room; the prospect seems daunting.  I decided that it couldn’t be that bad, I mean, I made it through 4 years of preseason with soccer in college, 3 a days that made me drop 20lbs in 2 weeks and speed & agility tests that made teammates puke; it’s only yoga…right?

I arrived for my first class wearing a t-shirt and shorts.  Little did I know then how absolutely overdressed I was.  The fee is $20 per class if you are not a member, but since the closest Bikram studio is in Brooklyn, that equates to a pretty expensive workout for a Staten Islander.  I had prepared by drinking lots of water, as was advised, and eating a light meal a few hours beforehand.  The lobby of the studio smelled like the ball pit at McDonald’s; everyone was walking around barefoot and half naked.  Yikes!  As soon as we entered the yoga room, or, as I would more aptly call it the sauna, the experienced yogis took their spots closest to the mirror.  I tried to sink into the back wall as much as humanly possible. 

There were people there from all walks of life, older adults, heavyset individuals, a painfully pregnant woman, petite yoga junkies and my ex-athlete self.  What’s great about this form of yoga is that all levels are in one class.  The idea is to push yourself harder every time you go, a concept I love.  Seeing this eccentric crowd made me more relaxed, because if this 60 year old, heavy woman next to me can do it then so can I.

What ensued was probably one of the most pain experiences excercise-wise in my life.  I couldn’t adjust to the temperature and I couldn’t keep my heart rate steady.  My balance was terribly off.  I felt fat and hated looking at myself in the mirrored wall.  Water would not satiate my extreme thirst or fatigue and I began to panic.  I was screaming in my head as the yoga instructor belted out instructions in her way too happy sing song voice.  IS 90 MINUTES OVER YET?!  I was pouring sweat.  I say pouring and not dripping because I have never been so soaked in my life.  It looked as if I had just gotten out of a pool.  The yogies I originally scoffed at for being so scantily clad I was now immediately jealous of.  I just wanted to strip down, crawl into a ball in the corner of the room and cry.  When the class ended I had an instantaneous headache from being dehydrated. I resolved to never go again.

A week went by.  A little voice somewhere inside started to whisper:  

Maybe you should go again. 

Uh-uh, no way, that was terrible, probably not even healthy for you. 

The whisper grew louder. 

You’re chickening out of doing yoga Cindy, that’s sad, you’ve lost!

UGHHH.

I am an insanely competitive person, and I could not stand the idea of being beaten.  Really, it wasn’t the physical breakdown I was worried about; this yoga mentally tore me to shreds.  For a woman I think it's even harder, because your staring at yourself in this mirror with all of these flaws that seem to be screaming out at you and all you can think of is the extra chub on your leg, let alone trying to do a damn tree pose.  It doesn't even resemble a damn tree. 

Well if I am going to voluntarily suffer again I am totally making someone suffer with me.  I chose my boyfriend Frank.  “Yoga Cindy?  Please, I got an A in my yoga class while I was in college, this won’t be a problem”.  Needless to say, Frank’s first time doing Bikram yoga was his last.   Afterwards in the locker room our male yoga instructor stood naked in front of Frank asking how he liked the class; that also solidified his intent to never go back again.  When we got home Frank laid on the floor in his shower puking from being dehydrated.  I had to feed him Gatorade through a straw from the other side of the shower curtain as his mother fretted around me saying “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BABY?!”.  I never laughed so hard in my life.

Flash forward a year and a half.  I went to class on Thursday evening with a friend.  The one thing I need to work on is to lose my overwhelming feeling of self-consciousness.  It didn’t help that the girlfriend I went with has Barbie-like proportions.  Damnit this tank makes me look fat!  Sitting in the waiting room before hell began, I noticed some of the other yogis around me.  One woman had a faint vertical scar down her back.  It is the scar an individual is left with after having corrective surgery for scoliosis.  Another young man had folds of loose skin around his belly and arms, something common in people after having Bariatric Surgery.  I realized then how many personal issues people deal with, health-wise, and here they were half naked for all the world to see contorting their bodies into awkward, unflattering poses.  My body dsymorphic issues are probably just as bad as everyone else’s.  People at Bikram Yoga aren’t there to judge.  It’s about attaining the best you, feeling good about yourself and pushing your body to its absolute limit.  Never mind the Barbie sitting next to me, my little tummy is a whole lot less of an issue considering what some of these other people appear to have went through.

The first class will be the worst.  After that it gets better.  I encourage everyone to try this type of yoga, not for the first time, but for the second.  You will be amazed at how much easier it is.  My goal is to become more comfortable with myself, because we all reach that point at times when we are just so fed up with what God gave us.  Flexibility may not be my forte, but overcoming my worst enemy, myself, makes it all worth it.  Even if it takes me $20 bucks and a ridiculous toll charge everyday, I will learn how to do a flawless Full Locust pose, and feel comfortable in my own skin doing it.          

Full Locust-

Amanda Gets Stitches!

As I was leaving work at 5:00pm today I got a call from a nasally-sounding, weeping sister.  “Can you come take me to the hospital?  I think I need stitches.” I fly from work in the pouring rain, wondering what type of condition I am going to find Mandy in.  For those of you who know her, you probably already are aware of how hysterical she can get when she’s upset.  She is the living embodiment of Murphy’s Law, representing all that can go wrong, probably will.

I am weaving in and out of traffic and debating which hospital to take her to.  The North site is probably the best hospital on Staten Island, but there’s bound to be a 6 hour wait.  I decide on the South site, which is on Seguine, as the car retches to a stop in front of her driveway.  I bolt up the stairs and throw open the door to find Mandy cradling her head.  Thank goodness the tears have subsided.  She had a gash just above the middle of her right eyebrow that had the uncanny resemblance to that of Scar’s from the Lion King.

“I was pulling things off the shelf and Justin’s stupid Humidor fell off and hit me in the head”.  I recently just discovered what a humidor is.  It’s a fancy smancy term for a cigar box.  Supposedly it keeps the cigars at a perfect temperature or something.  So picture Mandy, scaling the shelves pulling on something and this giant wooden, humidor box flies down and bounces off her head.  The image cracks me up inside.  The bleeding had stopped but for cosmetic reasons I voted we go to the hospital to get her professionally stitched up, (for those of you familiar with the horrific hatchet job SI North did on her knee after the High Rock Challenge you would want to see a plastic surgeon as well). 

Kaylee, my 22 month niece, kept looking at her mom with this adorable look of concern on her face and kept  saying “booboo”.  We piled into the car and made our way to Hylan Blvd.  At first, we stopped at the Staten Island Physican’s Care, (it’s the urgent care center, you probably know it better by the little sick sun icon with a thermometer in its mouth).  If you ever need an immediate plastic surgeon, do not go there, they do not have one on staff.   So Seguine it is.  When we arrive Mandy’s feeling quite nauseous, (I assume she has a slight concussion).  To my delight there are zero people in the waiting room.

I walked into Mandy’s emergency room and see a little boy, about 3 years old, clinging to his mom and dad in the bed adjacent to Mandy’s.  The boy needed stitches after suffering from a fall at home.  Mandy was sent up for a CT SCAN and I passed time by chatting with the parents next door.  Kaylee was unbelievably unruly, and my OCD was ticking furiously as I pulled her away from touching every hospital surface in sight.  I would have loved to put her in a plastic bubble for the 3+ hours we spent there.

The parents next door said that they were friends with an excellent plastic surgeon, who was called in specifically to stitch their son up.  What luck!  We waited for hours for him to arrive, and when he finally did he had no problem sewing Mandy up as well.  

The whole reason I decided to blog about this was because when Mandy got the initial shots of novcocaine to her eyebrow, (which I admit was painful to watch because she was squirming and owwing a lot) her WHOLE EYEBROW BLEW UP.  The only image I can compare it to would be the scene from the the movie “Land of the Lost” with Will Ferrell.  When Will gets bit by the mosquito and turns around the next day to put his shirt on and all you see is a giant swollen mountain of red flesh, that was Mandy’s eyebrow.  So now this surgeon is trying to stitch her eyebrow back together again and I just start laughing hysterical.  Mandy notices me laughing and then she starts laughing because she knows how ridiculous she must look.  The doctor is trying to get me to stop so Mandy will cease moving but I am doubled over from laughing.  In between breathes I joke that it’s an improvement, and Mandy chimes in “will this affect my modeling career?”   The astute doctor looked bewildered.  Mandy received 7 stitches. 

Of course I am including the money shot, however it simply just does not due the actual image justice.  It literally was a horn on her head.  

When we left the hospital it was around 8:30pm.  We stopped by the College of Staten Island so Mandy could show her professor why she missed class that night.  When he saw her, all he did was shake his head and say, "the things students will do to get out of class".

On Time Spent Alone

On this crisp, fall morning I decided to walk the pups in Cloves Lake Park.  I love the way the air smells so fresh and the way the leaves crunch under my feet.  My bottom scrapper pooches relish jumping in and out of piles of leaves and chasing squirrels.  It’s exhausting trying to keep their retractable leashes not intertwined, and for the life of me I will never understand why, when chasing a squirrel, Jub Jub will not just look up when it scurries up a tree.  Instead, he has this quizzical look on his face as he searches the circumference of the tree.  So, today’s blog is an assortment of random thoughts that resulted from my time spent alone.

During the week I was speaking with a fellow colleague who had just returned from maternity leave.  “How’s the baby, how are you doing,” yada yada yada.  Out of curiosity for my future reference, I asked what our organization’s maternity benefits are.  She laughed, stating we pretty much have none.  WHATTT?!  I asked her to elaborate.  Basically, you get three unpaid months.  UNPAID.  I have a girlfriend who lives in Canada and her maternity leave consists of one year approved absence while the company matches 60% of her salary until she returns.  I assumed ours would be somewhat similar, (although definitely not for the duration of one year). 

Here’s the double whammy, since you are not generating any revenue while you are out, you have to send in checks every month to keep your health coverage in good standing.  So, basically my organization is telling me, congratulations!  You are having a baby, which is a huge expense, so to show our support we are not going to pay you a dime while you are out, and oh, you have to pay us while you are away to keep your health benefits.  It stands to reason that no person in their right mind (and if you were a single parent forget about it) would willingly choose to have a baby and forfeit a salary in order to pay rent, bills, etc.  How backwards is that?!  Ladies, I suggest you check out your company’s maternity benefits because I am absolutely shocked over how unjust this is.  At a time when money matters the most, it seems like I will be neglected…

What I would have to do, to beat the system, is go out on short term disability, and even then they pay a fraction of your salary, (which I think for me it would be better to just go out on unemployment).  I can save my sick and vacation days and use that for a portion of my leave but frankly that stinks, and then technically you can still be called concerning various problems seeking answers at your job, which I would undoubtedly feel guilty enough to oblige.  Ladies, also inquire what happens to your retirement funds and your 401, (or in my case 403b) savings accounts, do they still grow?  Remain stagnant or frozen?  Begin accruing again when you return?    

One of my dogs just got tangled in a branch.  Hilarious.  The leaves camouflaged it’s twigs so when my dog ran full speed into the leaves she freaked out when the branch popped up.          

My mind floats to other injustices incurred over the week….

My kindle.  This wretched, wretched device.  I had returned my original kindle because it broke within 9 months of purchase.  Now, two weeks after receiving my replacement kindle, that is now malfunctioning.  I don’t understand how a company can manufacture a device that is so delicate and unreliable.  As a consumer I buy into the hype, actually getting excited about this new avant garde way of reading, with all its bells and whistles, only to be disappointed when I realize it has less durability than fine china.  A friend on facebook advised me it could be because of the leather protective jacket that I have on the actual kindle because the same thing happened to her.  So, basically, Amazon has created a cover for its product that actually causes it to malfunction, awesome.  I feel like paperback books are somewhere off in a dusty, old library laughing at me.   Now begins the arduous task of complaining, again, to Kindle customer service.  I would rather just ask for a refund but this was a gift so I am stuck in a never ending cycle of returns. 

These dogs never get tired.  They seem to enjoy crisscrossing their wires and running mindlessly into each other.  I love these critters so much.  There is nothing more enjoyable than walking them in the park and observing their innocent behavior, while contemplating to myself.  Even though the things irking my brain are frustrating, it's still good to be able to mull over them in solitude.  I think it’s important for everyone to be able to have 30 minutes to themselves, if anything just for a walk in the park.

Good Evening Mr. Senator!

Good afternoon readers!

I wanted to share with you a very special guest appearance I had last night at work.  State Senator Andrew Lanza came to speak to over 60 of my teens in my Friday night program.  Andrew Lanza spoke to the teens about how the federal and state governments’ work, what his job entails and the bill he’s introducing this year which is to make the tolls by the Port Authority bridges cheaper (hallelujah!).  He spoke about the history of our government and how different it is compared to other governments, (i.e. for example the leadership styles of Fidel Castro, North Korea, etc).  Each teen walked away with pamphlets outlining the Constitution, and the Declaration of Independence. 

Lanza seems like a really genuine guy.  After his speech was over and I was talking to him on the side it turns out that my sister Mandy coaches his daughter's high school soccer team. His face lit up as he told me, "We LOVE your sister!  She has made our daughter enjoy soccer and she's a riot to watch on the sidelines" (Mandy gets pretty animated towards the refs if your wondering ;). 

The Senator was gracious enough to come out, on a Friday night at 8:00pm no less, to speak with a bunch of middle school and high school kids.  That's pretty cool.  I even found out through one of his staff members that he had missed his son's basketball game for this.  Wow.

Here's a picture of the Senator and I...

Many of the teens stayed afterwards to take pictures with Andrew Lanza.  I love offering workshops and presentations for my teens.  If anyone knows of a great presentation or speaker that would be interested in speaking at one of my programs, please let me know as I am always on the lookout!

Halloween Part II

Let it snow let it snow let it snow!  I cannot believe my title says Halloween and it's hard core snowing outside!  Without further adieu, I give to you, after much anticipation....drumroll please...CINDY'S HALOWEEN COSTUME FOR 2011!!!

It's a PINATA!!!  (Crowd roars!)  To complete this fabulous and Oh So Sexy look, I dropped pieces of candy wherever I walked.  This costume cost about $10, which includes masking tape and 99 cents store packages of party streamers in pink, yellow and white.  About $2.00 went towards the birthday hats on my head which were then decorated with streamers.  That's over 40 yards of masking tape and over 300 feet of streamers people. 
Since I have been so busy with work, I asked my sister Mandy to make the costume for me since I thought about it on Thursday.  It took her about 7 hours to create it.  God bless her.  Mandy literally had to help me into the costume because every time I moved or bent down the tape would stretch or fall off.  Some of the activities I enjoyed during the night as a pinata were:  eating standing up, walking sideways upstairs, dodging people trying to hit me with various stick-like instruments and sweating my brains out.  Ladies, you would appreciate this, you know how your bra straps can occasionally slip off your shoulders and drive you nuts?  Well the whole night I had both straps down, which drove me CRAZY, since I could not squeeze my hand in to fix them.  Ugh.
I got into the costume at my work Halloween party, (which is for children and families) and immediately my Mexican janitor laughed and picked up her broom ready to swing.  The next woman who saw my costume was a well to do, rich white lady who asked me what I was.  Haha! 
My job allows me to decorate my building for special events, which I do with relish because honestly who wouldn't want a change of scenery in their workplace from time to time?  Plus it's an excuse for me to go out shopping!!
As you can see, I like to go a bit overboard....

Here's a picture of the Flintstones...

For my work fiesta we had facepainting, cupcake decorating, a moonbounce for the kiddies, a DJ and Halloween theme arts & crafts.  All the kids went home with a trick or treat bag and a balloon.  Every year I love prepping for this party, because it's so much fun to be a part of.  So after my 9:30pm family party had ended and once all the kids that chased me asking for candy had gone, it was time for me to attend the next Halloween event.

For my costume Mandy made me a tail as well, (because this get-up without a tail would just look RIDICULOUS).  When I finally arrived at my adult costume party last night, at Hillside Swim Club, I was greeted by some overenthusiastic peers.

This next picture is of me and my Ace Ventura.

Next is Wilma, myself and Little Red Riding Hood, (incidentally Little Red has her own kick ass blog called great explanations, you should check it out!).    I wish I had a picture of Riding Hood's counterpart, the Big Bad Wolf dressed up like grandma, but I do not and I am so upset because his costume was AMAZING!

So, that was my Friday night.  I think Halloween is my favorite holiday.  There is nothing more creative and outrageous than this holiday.  Two parties in one night though killed me.  I will leave off with a few pictures from the Staten Island Zoo's Spooktacular event I attended last week with my family....

                                                             HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Paws and Claws

Today I volunteered at the 2011 Woof Walk Fun Run at Silver Lake Park.  Vendors were offered free veterinarian screenings as well as face painting, arts and crafts, and a bouncehouse for the kids.  My favorite was the doggie obstacle course. 

Of course I tried to get my dog, a 7 year old dachshund named Jub Jub, to complete the course to no avail.  When I dragged him over to the hurdle to jump, he ran on the opposite side.  When I tried to push Jub Jub into an accordion blue running tunnel obstacle, he would not budge.  So much for cultivating a show dog.  Then the pure breeds came.  The eccentric handlers of these dogs remind me of those depicted in the movie "Best In Show".  If you have never seen this movie, it parodies show dog owners and their dogs that look like them while they compete at a national competition.  Sounds ridiculous, but this movie is hysterical.  The gllistening golden retreivers that dodged in and out of each obstacle on the course were so fast and well trained I was immediately embarrassed by my little 13 lb dog who was standing idly by scratching himself. 

Dozens of dogs (and their owners) in all shapes and sizes came for the event.  The walk, (or run, whichever you prefered) was just about a mile. There were tons of free giveaways, including bone shaped doggie poo bag dispensers, (grabbed 3), t-shirts, and travel foldable doggie water bowls, which were adorable.  Greyhounds, bulldogs, poodles and many more interesting breeds peppered the parade.  Some were even in their Halloween costumes. 

Congressman Michael Grimm gave an opening speech before the walk began.  He was accompanied by a little teacup Yorkie Terrier.  He gave a nice little speech on how dogs are man's best friends.  This is a picture of him below.

  When we started on the course Jub Jub was joined by his friends Zeus, a pug, and Lily, a Jack-A-Poo.  Lily's in the first picture, Zeus is by himself below.

Halfway through the course we saw Michael Grimm RUNNING with his little Yorkie.  I kid you not when I tell you that he was looking at his dog offering words of encouragement, "we're almost there, YOU CAN DO IT!"  I literally died laughing.  He seems like a nice guy and I do not care much for politics but that was a bit too much for show.

Frank, my boyfriend, came for the event as well as my sister Mandy and her boyfriend Justin with Kaylee, my niece.  Ths next picture is Kayle,, myself and Frank.

Kaylee enjoyed running around like a lunatic oblivious to her surroundings.  Just like a Bayioki.

All in all this was a nice community event.  Family and pet lover friendly; I am glad I went.  I am among my people there.  Unfortunately they are a tad odd and crazy but that's just my style.

Gamblers Anonymous

Happy Tuesday readers!

This weekend I allowed myself to be duped again into gambling at the casinos in Atlantic City.  Every time I pull that shiny black lever or  bet on lucky number 19 at the roulette table, (which by the way was ridiculously UNlucky) visions of quitting my job, traveling the world and starting my own puppy farm start materializing in my head only to be smashed to bits when I lose my last dollar.

I am on sensory overload as I walk down the intentionally intricate and colorful carpeting at the Hilton Casino.  Casinos are purposely mazelike without any type of time keeping whatsoever.  It’s like time stands still when your in there, I half expect a Langolier  to come and gobble me up whole when I lose sense of day and time like that.

I wanted to play the Star Trek slots soo bad but a 90 something year old woman would just NOT abscond her seat. Disappointed, I left my geriatric gambling companions and William Shatner to find the quarter Wheel of Fortune slots, which my good friend Maureen won $100 on once.  So why wouldn’t I? WRONG!  $60 later I leave frustrated, not even ONE spin. 

Next is the Zeus penny slots.  Why wouldn’t I get a little lucky, I am Greek after all.  Wrong again!  The darn machines start buzzing and glowing like you’ve just won a million bucks when in reality it was more like 5 cents. 

Blackjack and I are no longer on speaking terms.

Roulette was kind once; I hit one number, and then consecutively lost every number drawn.  A 60 year old Asian man came and sat right next to me with some sort of written notebook chart detailing all the odds of every number hitting.  Hmmmm.  I followed him for a few rounds until I lost my last minimum bet of $5.00.  Note to self: Never assume that ANYONE knows how to cheat or figure out the system.  If that was possible, there would be a lot more millionaires and a lot less casinos.

I always leave casinos with a headache.  Not too sure whether it’s because I am completely stressed out over losing all of my money or the fact that the place makes me so absolutely dizzy that I get the spins.

Then as I am in the bathroom practically retching, a cheery voice comes on over the PA system encouraging people to call 1-800-Gamblers if they think they have a problem.  I instantly hate this place all the more.

You won this round AC.  Which is pretty ironic since the odds are against you when you gamble, but AC manages to win every time.   

Trick or Treat!

BOO!  For anyone interested, this year's Village Halloween Parade will be on Monday, October, 31st, 2011.  The parade route begins on 6th Avenue from Spring Street to 16th Street  from 7:00pm - 10:30pm.  For all you armchair extraordinaires, you can watch the festivities on TV, WPIX CHANNEL 11: 7:30pm - 10:00pm, and on NY 1: 8:00pm - 9:30pm.

October's already here and I haven't decided on a costume yet.  I always tell myself this year will be different, that I will put a lot of thought into a creative and totally outrageous costume that would wow even the bedazzled, fabulous drag queens that march in New York City's Halloween parade.  Realistically though, I usually procrastinate till the eleventh hour till finally settling on a borderline "R" rated costume.

Store bought adult costumes come in children's sizes; I'm convinced.  I usually end up wearing what is supposed to be a dress as a shirt with black stretch pants underneath.  Store bought costumes are also so generic, if Lady Gaga costumes are in this year your sure to see 100 of them walking the streets the night of.

I need inspiration!  So in order to get the creative juices flowing, I've decided to put together a small montage of all the costumes I've worn in the last few years.  Some I remember fondly, others make me shudder.  What was I thinking?!

For your enjoyment, I will post the good, the bad and the ugly.

This costume was, you guessed it, 80's themed.  I loved mixing and matching this outfit; it's basically a time in fashion history that says "wear anything you please and it will go, the brighter the color the better you look". 

This Alice throwback was my Halloween costume in 2005.  Wow writing that makes me feel old.  I look so innocent! 

Ahoy maties!  This is Halloween 2006 in my dorm room at NJIT.  I am on the left, my dad in the middle and my first mate Amanda on the right.  I actually found that perfect billowy white shirt from a Salvation Army store.  Hot tip:  If you have no idea what to be this Halloween, browse your local Salvation Army or hand me down thrift shop for some cool ideas.  The completely dated and vintage clothing these stores sell are bound to pique an idea for you, and its price friendly as well.  Arrr!! 

2008 Halloween all wrong.  I went from an adorably sweet Alice in 2005 to this Gothic looking grotesque misconception of Lewis Carroll's claim to fame.  I'm not saying anymore this picture says it all.

This next picture is a pretty, but generic, store bought candy corn witch costume from Halloween 2009.  Frank is, SURPRISE!  A football player.  We epitomize monotonous costumes here. 

2009 Halloween party at work.  It is what it is.

I usually try to steer clear of costumes that are indicative of other holidays.  This is a picture of my sister and I from 2008, doing our thing and acting weird.  Easter bunnies, leprechauns, cupids, and Santa costumes need to stay in their respective holiday arenas.  

In the same year as my Alice monstrosity, Mandy decided on Elvira, or as the Simpson's call her, Boob-arella.

My ultimate favorite costume is next.  Mandy created flamingo costumes for Halloween 2007.  Here, you see Mandy, my girlfriend Katie from Ohio and myself posing like actual flamingos.  We went to the parade in the city and we were stopped every block to take pictures with admiring partygoers.  The feather boas created a great finishing touch and the beaks were made out of hot pink Michael's Crafts hat visors.  We cut black felt and hot glued it to the visor to give it that curved appearance.

Here's work Gypsy Cindy from Halloween 2010.  Work parties are tough to find costumes for.  You don't want to be that co-worker that shows up to sexy, and you don't want to be seen by your supervisors as boring or uncreative.

Jazzercise Halloween 2006!  This costume cost me zero dollars.  Kudos to mom for her time capsule boudoir drawers.  The back of this onesie was actually a thong, which makes total comfort sense when your exercising.  Haha!

The Lollipop kids, Frank and Moe in 2010.  The idea was mine, and the costumes were also my creation.  I went to TJ Max, picked out those hideous checkered shirts and shorts on the sale rack, cut V's into the bottoms of the shirts and shorts, glued lollies in the pockets and VOILA! You have the best Wizard of Oz costumes ever.  They won best costume that night.  I try. :)

Peggy and Al Bundy from the TV show "Love and Marriage" in 2010.  Awesome costumes, Mandy looked exactly like Peggy.

Sailor Cindy from a 2010 Halloween party.  This costume was actually a one piece dress.  Clearly, not a dress.  It was my sailor shirt.  Thank the Lord for stretch pants.  I borrowed this costume from a friend 30 minutes before the party.  Talk about last minute.

So, whether you buy, create, borrow or reuse, there's no excuse for remaining costume-less on Halloween.  I hope I sparked a bit of inspiration for you on your quest for the perfect costume this year.  As for me, I am still thinking of mine and will let you know in due time. 

Happy Halloween!