Welcome to Snarkfest

Welcome to my snarky corner of the web. Join me as I discuss everything from wine to chocolate. There may be a few other topics mixed in there too. I talk a bunch about my amazing offspring, 22 and 20. I sometimes go on and on about my secret crush on the amazing Mike Rowe. I talk about things that irritate me or things that make me happy. Sometimes I just talk to hear myself talk. Feedback is always appreciated but please make sure it's respectable. No nudity or profanity. I'm the only one allowed to be profane. But any and all snark is welcome and appreciated!

Monday, January 13, 2020

Eulogy for the Living



As I mentioned in my blog from last Friday, I attended a funeral for the friend of a friend this weekend. The place was packed. Stacey, the woman who had passed, died of lung cancer (not a smoker!) and she had been a member of NA for many many years. Apparently, she had touched more lives than anyone actually realized. That's the beauty of life: you never know how much of a difference you make in peoples' lives.

Hundreds of people showed up. My friend read her eulogy for Stacey, and then another friend did, then both of Stacey's children spoke, and then finally her husband. Eulogies from family and friends were shared with the living.

But Stacey never heard those words. She knew, I'm sure, how loved she was, but that got me to thinking on the drive up to PA about just how much our friends know about how we feel about them. We say beautiful words about our loved ones after they've passed. But why don't we say these beautiful words BEFORE they die? I decided then and there in my car that I would write living eulogies for those that I love (don't worry, I didn't start writing while I was driving).

I don't want to wait until someone dies to say wonderful things about them. I want to share good memories, fun stories and the love I feel for them while they are still alive and while they can still hear me.

I'm not going to publicly post my eulogies for the living, but I do vow, here and now, to write them and share them with my loved ones. Why should they be dead before I get to tell them what I love about them?

Friday, January 10, 2020

The Beauty of Friendships........

I can only speak to my experience as a woman about friendships. My husband has very few close friends but those whom he loves are near and dear to him. For me, I have a shit ton of friends, both old and new. I have the friends I made in grade school (yes, grade school, some 40-plus years ago) with whom I am still in contact. I have my high school friends (celebrating our 35th reunion later this month!). I have my friends from my post-high school days (I didn't stick with college so any acquaintances made there have long since been forgotten, sadly). I have friends from my days in the casino biz and I have the friends I've made since moving to West By-God Virginia.

Friends through the ages: Susan, Mandie and Karen. They have my heart.

We may not speak for weeks, months, or even years, but that does not mean we don't love one another or have an unbreakable bond. We were maids of honor to one another, we are Godparents of one anothers' babies, we've watched our kids grow up. Our tastes have changed. We no longer drink Milwaukees Best in the basement, or Bartles and James wine coolers at the park. We have good jobs and can afford nice cartons of Bota Box or Black Box. Hell, we even hit the wineries and sample the better stuff now.

Some we see day to day on Facebook and we keep up with one another there. Some we text weekly. Some monthly. Others, years may go by but that bond never goes away. Our tastes change, our political views are not always the same, but I don't love my friends for their preferences, I love them for who they are and for our history together. I wouldn't be who I am if I didn't have them in my life.

When one of my friends is mourning, I mourn with them. One of my best friends recently lost one of her life long friends. She and her friend had known one another since high school and had drifted in and out of one anothers' lives but they never stopped loving one another, no matter how many miles or how few phone calls or texts occurred. I met her old friend at bridal showers, my friend's wedding, baby showers and the like. And while I never felt a strong connection to her, my best friend did. So I mourn with her over her loss.

I texted her last night, asking how she was. She asked if she could send me the eulogy she wanted to read at her friend's funeral and I told her she didn't have to. I would be there. Because friends do that for friends. They are there when you need them, and I know she needs me. We all need each other. Good times. Bad times. We need to be there for one another.

I will hold her hand as she held mine when my mom passed away. I will hand her tissues when she finishes reading the eulogy. I will crack open a box of wine with her and we will toast to friendships. And I will never stop loving her. I will cherish her as I will cherish all of the people I hold dear to my heart.

Whether you have one really close friend or dozens, you cherish them. That's how we go on.

Thursday, January 9, 2020

If you write it, will they read?

That's an excellent question.




Afternoon, Snarklings. Do y'all remember me? Those of you who have subscribed via email, HOWDY!!! Those who stumbled here through the Facebooks and Twitters, WHASSUP?  I've really missed you guys. I'm sorry it's been so long.

I've decided to blow the dust off of this old website and vomit up some verbiage. Hopefully I will make a habit out of doing this but for now, here's one blog post to start.

Let's catch up shall we?

For those of you who are new, I'm Teri, your Queen of Snark. I've been blogging since 2013 (ish) and have had some pieces published in some books (which is very cool). You can check those out on the right side of this page or on the BUY MY BOOKS page, if you are so inclined, but no pressure.

Still married. Still working for my favorite environmental nonprofit called SkyTruth. Running again. I just finished my 4th full marathon (ok not JUST, it was back in October). Looking to run my 5th later this year. I've lost 70 pounds on Weight Watchers over the last year and change.

My oldest is now 22, my youngest is now 20 and both are baristas!

Still have my Dumbass cat (now 18!! If she were a he, I'd register her for the draft just to get her out of the house), and my pups, Henry and Cosmo are 10 now!! All growed up.

The president is still a fuckstick.

My latest obsession these days is THE CHILD. AKA The Baby Yoda. Dear sweet Lord, Disney you are brilliant. I'm not posting any images because I'm not trying to deal with any copyright infringements, but you have to know how adorable this damned thing is.

I'm also watching $chitt's Creek on the Netflix and have started watching The Avengers series (yes I'm a little behind the times, so sue me) on the Disney+ because it's free. That's how they get you. I got a year of free Disney+ and they had to go and make THE CHILD so damned adorable that there's no way on God's green earth that I won't actually pay for it so I can watch season 2 of The Mandalorian to get my Baby Yoda fix. Well played, Disney+, well played.

A little side rant: last night one of my favorite Snarklings, Jon, sent me a message with a link to an article that said someone had the audacity to photoshop your dumbass president's head on to the Baby Yoda's body and that's just not right. Idiot Son #1 posted the image on Instagram and I want to set them all on fire. They crossed a line. It's just not right. I can't even post the image here without wanting to throw a punch.

That's all I've got for now. I don't want to overwhelm you on my first day back in over a year. Please stop back to see if it takes me that long to blog again. Until next time, stay Snarky my friends.



Tuesday, October 30, 2018

None of this is okay.......

Yeah, it's been awhile. You remember me? Short, snarky, sarcastic. It'll come back to you. I can wait.

In the meantime, I have something I need to get off my chest.

Last night I attended a vigil for the 11 Jewish victims murdered at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh and for the 2 African-Americans murdered in Jeffersontown, KY. I'm absolutely sickened by the actions of these white supremacists who thought it was okay to murder people in cold blood because they look differently or have different religious backgrounds.

I'm sick of people being horrible to each other. I'm absolutely horrified by the actions of the president of the United States. If you are a Trump supporter, just stop reading now and close the tab because you will disagree with me and want to comment about how wonderful he is and that's just going to make me sick. I don't want to hear anyone tell me about how terrible the Democrats are. I don't have the patience to listen to people say how awful the media is. I'm sick to death of hearing Trump supporters parroting back the shit that comes out of his Twitter feed on a daily basis.  Nothing you can say in favor of Trump is going to get anyone to change their minds. And nothing I say about how terrible he is will change anyone's mind, so let's just agree to disagree and move on, shall we?

The president of the United States is a purveyor of hate. He spews vile rhetoric at his rallies and that seems to give people the permission to be awful, terrible excuses for human beings. Racist, homophobic, intolerant, all of the dregs of society are crawling out of the gutters and have been told by Trump that it's okay to be awful to people who don't look like they do.

As a result of the president giving permission to these disgusting people, there has been an influx of awfulness. There is now so much division, anger, hatred, divisiveness in the United States it's terrifying. If you are black, brown, Spanish, Muslim, gay, trans, bi, anything that doesn't look like the president, you are a target. Does anyone else think it's ironic that Trump paints those people as the villains, yet in the past week it's been 3 white middle aged American men who have perpetrated these violent killings or attempted killings?

Don't even get me started on the 13 explosive devices that were sent by that crazy ass bastard with the sticker-filled van in Florida. Someone posted on my FB wall that 'not all Trump supporters are like that'. But if you support Trump, you can't pick and choose what you want to agree with and what you find distasteful. It's not a buffet. You either support him or you don't. No middle ground. Terrible things have been allowed, even encouraged, in this country since Trump took office, and even more will be allowed to happen. He welcomes it. He has lit a fire of hatred and it's burning out of control.

All I can do is hope for change. I have to believe that there are millions of people out there who are just as sickened about the turn this country has taken and that those people will get out and vote. Vote for people who do not condone the senseless killings of innocent people. Vote for a change. Just vote.

"Mostly, I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world every day. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head, all the time.... Can you understand?"  -  John Coffey, The Green Mile, Stephen King, 1996


Tuesday, March 20, 2018

How Many More?



My daughter walked out of school last Thursday with a good many of her classmates. They walked out to honor the 17 students and educators who died at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland Florida. I'm sure many students at Great Mills High School in St. Mary's County, Maryland also walked out to honor those fallen folks. And now, less than a week after that peaceful walkout, there is another school shooting. This one at that very school.

How many more?

This Saturday we will march in Washington DC along with hundreds of thousands of others who are sick to death of school shootings and gun violence.

As a parent, I absolutely cannot begin to imagine what those parents are feeling at this moment. I have a knot in my stomach just trying to imagine what it would be like to hear that there was a shooting at my kid's school. The uncertainty until a parent gets proof of life from their child, that time must be extreme agony.

How many thoughts and prayers does this country have left?

18 and I were interviewed last night for a podcast  by my friend Mike who runs Papa Does Preach for his new podcast, DadAF. He wanted to talk to her about her experiences with the walk out last week and how it affected her. She spoke about how she stood in solidarity with those school shooting victims and how we need to bring about change. And now this.

How many more??

I am sickened.

I hate to even think this, but will it take a gunman going into the school of a congressman's or a senator's child or even the school where the president's son goes before something is done??? You'd think after last summer's shooting at the congressional softball game that action would be taken, but no. More children have to die because no one will do anything to prevent guns from getting into the hands of children or angry people with an ax to grind. WHAT. MORE. WILL. IT. TAKE??

ENOUGH!

Friday, March 16, 2018

Colonoscopy. A story of hope, and poop. Mostly poop.



The day before:

8:00 a.m. The liquid diet day begins. I suck on a delicious orange popsicle while feeding the dogs, and I'm actually a little jealous that they are eating solid food. Not saying I want to eat dog food, just saying the orange popsicle left a little to be desired.

11:00 a.m. The caffeine-deprived headache has taken hold and I'm squinting at everything. You'd think I was sitting on the sun with how much I'm squinting. I miss coffee. Also, I'm cold.

12:00 p.m. I have just taken the recommended 4 laxative pills. My guess is, the fun should begin any minute now. I have knocked back 2 cups of beef broth that my boss made for me because she loves me. It was like manna from the gods. I chased that with a cup of pineapple jello. I'm not ready to gnaw on anyone's arm just yet. But it's early.

3:00 p.m. The stomach gods have awakened from their slumber. No movement yet but they must be in a meeting. Getting loud in there.

4:00 p.m. Just made my Miralax/Gatorade cocktail and I get to drink 8 ounces of this delicacy every 15 minutes for the next 2 hours. Jealous yet?

5:15 p.m. Nothing happening so far. I'm starting to wonder if I should be worried.

5:50 p.m. Houston, we have movement........

6:48 p.m. Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln.

7:04 p.m. I'm reminded of a story my old college roommate told me. She went to high school with a girl who tried to lose weight by eating Ex-Lax (old chocolate laxatives for you kids). One day she was in the locker room after gym class and she sneezed and shit herself.  I laughed when she told me that.

I'm not laughing now.

7:12 p.m.  poop
8:29 p.m.  poop
9:04 p.m.  more poop....... lather, rinse, repeat. Also, I'm starving.

10:45 p.m. I try to go to sleep and manage to successfully not shit my pajamas.

C-Day:

1:30 a.m. Back on the toilet

1:35 a.m. Back to sleep, still no pants pooping

5:30 a.m. My alarm goes off and it's time to drink my Magnesium Citrate which, at 5:30 in the morning, tastes twice as bad as it would have if I was drinking it at noon.

6:45 a.m. My alarm goes off again to make sure 18 gets off to school

6:46 a.m. poop

6:50 a.m. Back to sleep for 45 minutes

7:35 a.m. poop.

7:40 a.m. Have the pleasure of watching my husband drink coffee. Drool a lot. Then poop.

7:45 a.m. poop. Shower. poop.

8:15 a.m. On the road to Winchester for the big event! I manage to make the entire trip without pooping myself. BONUS!

9:30 a.m. I am called back, registered, checked in, given my beautiful designer hospital gown, got my IV, signed my life away and was called a 'young healthy gal' by the anesthesiologist who couldn't have been more than 33. Apparently 50 is the new 70. Who knew?

10:13 a.m. I am wheeled back to the scope room and get to meet the doctor who is also from Philly. We discuss the Eagles (who I haven't really followed since they signed convicted dog-killer and general jackass Michael Vick). We also discuss the 1980 Phillies team. I roll over onto my left side, and watch the young anesthesiologist shoot me full of the same drugs that Michael Jackson was addicted to. (I was told that fact by no less than 4 staff members. Had I known this, I would've worn my one silver glove). I remember nothing after watching the drugs go in.

11:05 a.m. I am gently roused from my nap by the lovely nurse who put in my IV. She and my husband are both laughing because apparently when I was first coming out of the anesthesia, I dropped the F bomb. Hubby said I said something like "Fucking Phillies" which makes no sense because I LOVE the Phillies. I blame the drugs and the young anesthesiologist. Maybe I MEANT to say "Phucking Phillies" which is much nicer.

11:40 a.m. Back in the car for the drive home. I want to eat ALL the foods. All of them.

Present time:  My butt hurts. A lot. But my colon is as clean as a whistle. I don't have to do this again for another 10 years.

On a serious note....

I have a friend who passed away 11 years ago from cancer. She battled colon cancer twice in her 30's and the third time she just couldn't beat it. If you have a history of colon cancer in your family, DO NOT WAIT. Go get your colonoscopy. Yes it's a pain in the ass (LITERALLY) but it's so worth it to get yourself checked and make sure you're clean.

One last thing. If this post made you laugh you should definitely check out my friend Foxy Wine Pocket's post about her own colonoscopy.


Friday, March 9, 2018

Almost Empty Nest.........

Hey Snarklings. Experts say Friday is the worst day to post a new blog. I don't know why, that's just what "they" say. Whoever "they" are, they can kiss my butt. It's so rare that I get an original idea for a blog post, that when I get one, I have to run with it, regardless of what day of the week it is, regardless of what "they" say.



As I write this post, we are a mere 2 months from my youngest daughter's high school graduation. Those of you who have been with me for a long time may remember the last time I went through a high school graduation. You may also recall that sales of Kleenex tissues spiked dramatically during that time period. You see, I was coming off of an addiction to Effexor, a really strong anti-depressant that I didn't actually realize I was addicted to until I tried to wean myself off.

Holy shit, you guys.

I cried for weeks over every. single. thing. It was embarrassing. Even my closest friends questioned the decision to quit the anti-depressant so close to this monumental life-changing experience. Probably not my best call.

I was interviewed by Prevention magazine in 2016 about my experiences stepping down and eventually quitting Effexor, and that interview has been making the rounds again lately. I received a Facebook message out of the blue from someone, a total stranger, who read that interview and asked me for some advice on getting off the anti-depressant. "Will I ever feel better?" she asked. And I'm happy to say YES. YES you WILL feel better. It won't happen overnight. But it WILL happen.

Which brings me to today. We are nearing the finishing line, folks. 18 is graduating! 18 got the gown for her senior prom. 18 has been accepted to college and will be in the band once again with her big sister. And guess what! I haven't cried yet. Well, that's not necessarily true. I have teared up thinking about the 'lasts'. I chaperoned the 'last' Christmas parade in which the high school band marched. I chaperoned the 'final' band competition at the state capital and yes, I was weepy. My eyes filled up. However, it's not the 'body racked with heavy, wet, snotty sobbing' kind of crying that I went through 3 years ago. When 20 graduated high school in 2015, I was an emotional train wreck, I think we can all agree on that. But I'm not sure how much of that was truly me being sad that my first-born baby girl was growing up and leaving, or how much of it had to do with the side effects of the drug leaving my body.

It's really hard for me to say which it was, but back then I was overwhelmed with all the feelings. I was happy for my graduate, excited for her new journey, sad for me that she was leaving me, sad for her sister who was losing her best friend to a campus of 30,000. I was grieving a loss. All of those feelings mixed with the side effects of detoxing truly made me feeling like some sort of psycho.

But my head is clear now. My baby is graduating and I'm not going to lie: I'm sad. I'm sad because my nest will soon be empty, I won't be chaperoning anymore band trips, nor will I be spending anymore nights in the cabin at band camp (okay maybe I'm NOT really all that sad about that). But I'm emotionally ready to handle it. I feel so much stronger now. These experiences have made me stronger, and while they sucked while I was dealing with them, I feel like I have come out on the other side better for having gone through it.

I will add one thing: you may want to disregard that last paragraph on the day that I drop 18 off at college in August. Make no mistake. I will be a sobbing, snotty mess that day. My nest will be empty then, and I think I'm allowed to be emotional then. But I now know that I can and will get through it.