single mommy moments

to my wonderful readers...who have followed my blogs about my single mommy moments...you can jump right in...

for those of you who are new to this ... here's my little bitty about being a single mommy...

First of all, it is no harder or easier than being a Mommy who's with the Daddy. If you had my crazy hard marriage, you'd see that my house now is a calm and wonderful place to live. I love being Zman's mom, and doing it solo, for the most part, is far easier, than having to do it in a house of fighting and tension. Maybe every relationship is different, and this isn't about my marriage. It is however about my life thereafter...and how much more calm and peaceful my life is now that it's just me and the Z.

But of course, with every situation, there's the good and the bad. Being a single parent, means having to do it alone.

There are some advantages. I get just about all my weekends off from Mommy Duty, and get to make parenting choices without having to also be compromised in a committed relationship that takes tons of work.

There are times in the mix, where I just feel alone and helpless. Times that I struggle and wish there was someone here to get my back. Moments where my son and I are at an impasse, and I feel a sense of helplessness that comes with trying to be a parent without a manual. In those random moments, my heart moans for a partner to help me figure out what the heck I'm doing.

There are "dude" jobs that just don't get done around my house like lawn mowing, car fixing/washing and other stuff that I've deemed meant for someone else to do because I'm a girl. Oh you feminist chicks relax, I know I can do anything a man can do, well, sort of. But, I'm not totally feminist like that. I like having the door opened for me, my coat held out for me and the trash taken out to the curb.

Yeah, I put on my own coat, open my own door and drag that big green can out to the curb every week myself, but man, I miss having a dude around to make me feel a little more like a woman and do those things for me.

But I digress....

Even before we split, I pretty much had to do a lot of the Mommy events with just me and Z. If we got together as a family and went out, there was always the Lester drama, and he's a dramatic frickin' guy.

Over these few years, I've been the one at all the school events, talent shows, PTA meetings, birthday parties, kiddy concerts, etc.... Just a couple of months ago I was at this big school board fundraiser, and I was the ONLY single parent there. It takes some mental preparation showing up at these things in Single Mommy Mode. I have to do some sort of inner chant about how fuckin fabulous I am before entering the doors of any of these school functions. There's always a parent who suggests I hook up with Mrs. LaMonda's hot brother, this single guy they know, that single guy, some cousin, friend, "have you tried match?" etc.... and always I smile, but inside I'm totally embarrassed because what they are really saying is, "YOU ARE SO SINGLE."

I remember looking at the single mommy chicks I knew, and thinking how lucky I was that I had someone…what did I know?

Ugg.

This past weekend, I had one of those mortifying death-defying Single Mommy moments at Coney Island. We were at the Mermaid Parade, and had a terrific time. After eating a ton of junk food, Zman decided he needed to potty. You know, poop potty. Oh....nooooooooo. We were far from anywhere I knew that had a bathroom, we were in some no man's land between the freak show and the beer garden. Suddenly, the little guy is reeling in pain, he's got to go. All that sugar and garbage in his little tummy, I could only imagine. I went into super mommy mode, guiding him by the hand through the throngs of people up to the boardwalk, around the hoards of freaks and in between the oblivious crowds to the public bathroom by the beach. I figured this was our best bet.

The line for the Women's Room wrapped around down the boardwalk. Clearly, this option was OUT. So, I looked over at the Men's Room and decided we'd brave it there. As I got to the door, the security guys gave me the hairy eyeball, indicating I was to stay outside the gates to the salvation my son desperately needed. So, I did the unthinkable, I sent my little guy into this crowded disgusting public bathroom all by himself. I gave him a little pep talk, and sent him in. At that moment, some ghetto piece of shit guy came right up to me and started to give me grief that I shouldn't have sent him in alone. He made me feel like a terrible mommy. Jerk! Why I let him get to me? Because I was there, alone, Single Mommy...inferior and totally baffled how to accommodate my poor little son who really had to get to the potty. I stood there by the entrance, each of my eyeballs intently watching each of the doors. Each moment he was in there was heart wrenching. Why did I let that guy get to me? Will my little man be OK in there all by himself? I began to doubt my choice. My heart was beating faster and faster.

I began to really panic, he was in there a while. All sorts of characters were moving in and out of the doors to the men's room, and each one looked more creepy and suspect than the last one. Butterflies filled my stomach, and I thought, the What Ifs?

At that moment, a friendly face came to me asking me for directions. They were a family visiting Coney Island for the first time from out of town. Then, the woman really looked at me, "Are you ok?"

I explained that my son is inside, that some guy yelled at me for letting him go in alone, that I was worried, I was panicked that some freak was in there watching him, or worse. Well, I just told her I was worried he was in there a while. Her husband came to the rescue offering to go in and get him, just as I had shown him Z's picture on my phone...Z came out, safe and sound.

My confidence in my choice was renewed. I know my kid, and I trust myself enough to know he was fine. Why let some dick head take away my power and my confidence in my parenting choice? It was the only alternative. And of course, my little guy was fine. I've taught him to be a strong independent little man. I'm a great Mom, he knew just what to do.

Relieved he took care of his business. I was ready to get the heck out of there. I threw Z up on my shoulders and carried him down the boardwalk through all the crazy people back to the parking lot. I felt like a great mommy. We had an awesome day.

This morning, Z graduated from Kindergarten. Here it comes, another school function I was to attend just Me. Something inside me has changed. I'm fine with it, I know this is how it is.

I put on a cute get up, Z and I are wearing our brand new Coney Island tee shirts for the day. I got myself together, threw my camera in my bag, and smiled at myself in the mirror. I'm Z's rockin' mommy, and I'm more than enough. He didn't ask for anyone else, he didn't need anyone else there to support him. He had Me there to cheer him on. Who cares if I'm there alone, that's what our life looks like.

For the first time at one of these school things, no one bugged me about meeting their newly divorced cousin, or whatever...instead, they let me be. Maybe because, for once, I let me be ME! and I know that I Am Enough and that I'm a totally Kick Ass Mommy.

summer storm

At this very moment, the most miraculous summer storm is passing over the roof of my house. As it begins to slow down, I am stunned by the sheer power and magic I just witnessed.

When I got home from my very eventful weekend, I barely had the energy to stand. I lit a few candles, climbed into bed and passed out. Apparently I slept through about seven phone calls. I must have been extremely exhausted, because I'm not the heaviest sleeper.

But this crazy summer storm just rolled in, and awoke me with the loudest crashes of thunder I've ever heard!

Upon awakening, I was taken aback by one of the most intense summer storms I've ever witnessed. The sky strobed profusely with an onslaught of lightening overhead. The storm carried with it electrical clouds casting out lightening in every direction. Thunder was blasting directly over my house. If you could see this storm from my porch, you'd be looking through the branches of evergreen trees that must be hundreds of years old.

The sheer power and intensity of the flashing lightening and deafening thunder was miraculous and unbelievable.

I love summer storms. They evoke so many emotions. As they water the grass, the flowers, the trees, and cool the earth…. they also cleanse my soul.

On my drive back upstate today, "What I Be" by Michael Franti & Spearhead came on my iPod. I've owned this for sometime, but not sure I ever really listened to the lyrics as clearly as I did today. What a powerful song, and indicative of how I am feeling this week.

As my quest for clarity moves forward, I've begun to take an inventory of the person I am.

I am a very passionate woman. This is far from a new discovery. I am self-aware that my passion is the driving force for every action I take. Going back to my earliest journals, one can read countless pages about how I rule my life with my passion. There are a host of entries in my teens into my early twenties where I come to the realization that I must live my life by following my gut. That when I think something out too much, I destroy the opportunity. In my life, the "go for it" attitude has dictated just about every decision I've made in love, career and big life choices. Rarely do I think things through before taking action. I get an idea that sticks to the walls of my heart, and that's where I follow.

My passion is a giant. It governs a world where magical things do happen.

It is also overwhelming, and repels some of the things I want most.

In choosing the people I surround myself with, I find that I am drawn solely to those who also rule themselves with a life of passion. In looking around me at the people who make me feel a sense of kinship, they are extremely passionate souls. My heart is always drawn to a person of deep unending passion.

My friends are the most amazingly passionate people, with a capacity to love that exceeds well beyond most others on this planet.

In my downfall over the past few years, I've controlled this fire and light inside me by squashing it with chemicals and toxins. I've denied my heart and my ability to follow my gut by polluting myself. I've attracted so many wrong people, toxic souls, and pushed myself into a lonely corner. When I look back to where I was, I feel such a great sense of relief to discover that my effervescent light still shines. And lately, it's like lighthouse bright, beaconing boats to turn before they hit rocks and Me!

Like the lightening storm that just consumed me, my passion can be intense, overwhelming, massive, electrical and strobe through the others around me in a way that can over take and conquer.

Back to the drive home…so I'm listening to "What I Be" and really absorbing the lyrics. I play it like seven times in a row. I picture myself a tree making the sweetest fruit, and pulling in love and bringing people Ice Cream on a sunny hot day…and thought of what a gift my passion and heart both are. Because, I strive to be a great many of those things. I work hard to be that gift, and I remember back to a time when I felt so much this way… before my life got so complicated, before my problems got so colossal, and before I let myself dive down that dark hole.

So now I need to learn my heart again. If I am to continue feeling every emotion I have, and feel love, pain, joy, anger, frustration, lust, excitement and my passion so strongly, I must work now to find the tools to control these things. I must learn to connect to my heart differently now, because I've disconnected from it for such a long time.

I am an extremely passionate woman. In my quest for balance, love and clarity…I must also learn to be the master of my own passion and not let it become a storm that overtakes everything in its path.

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What I be by Michael Franti & Spearhead.....

If I could be the sun
I'd radiate like Africa and
Smile upon the world
Intergalactic love laughter and
If I were the rains, I'd wash away the whole world's pain and
Bring the gift of cool like ice cream trucks on sunny days and
If I was the earth I'd be like mountains bountiful
And if I were the sky so high, I'd be like wind invincible and
If I could be a seed, I would give birth to redwood trees and
If I were the trees, I'd generate the freshest air to breathe in

What I be, is what I be
What I be, is what I be
well, well, well, movin on!
well, well, well, movin on!
Do you love someone? Do you love somebody?
Love that one!

If I could be the leaves, then like jade I would stay evergreen and
Spread my limbs out wide and pull love so close to me and
If I could the roots, I would dig deep like ancestry and
If were the fruits, you'd make the sweetest cherry pie from me and
If I could be the night, my moon replace all electric lights and
Magic music would transmit from outer space on satellites
If I myself could be the ocean, you would feel emotion all the time and
If I were the words, then everything that everybody said would rhyme

What I be, is what I be
What I be, is what I be
well, well, well, movin on!
well, well, well, movin on!
Do you love someone? Do you love somebody?
Love that one!

If I could be sex my words would protect
I'd be in the lives of all who connect
What the heck, I'd make it so we all got selected
pores would be dripping pure hot intellect and
The minds of the masses would all stay erect and
Then just for kicks, I'd mail out some checks
Addressed to those who sent their used latex in
Yes, that's what I would if I were sex
If I could be you, you could be me
I could be you, you could be me
I could walk a mile in your shoes.....
And you could walk a mile in my bare feet

What I be, is what I be
What I be, is what I be
well, well, well, movin on!
well, well, well, movin on!
Do you love someone? Do you love somebody?
Love that one!

Here's some cool video I found on YouTube that is inspired by the very same lyrics!!!

the Master of Sabotage takes over

I possess many great talents…I am creative and smart. Many call me the manifester. Throughout my life, I've been able to create situations and make great things happen for me.

When life gets tough, and certainly it has, I've always managed to pull myself out by creating new circumstances. There isn't a time in my life where I wasn't pulling in some sort of income. And when things have seemed most bleak or scary, an opportunity seemed to always ride up behind it. My friends often joke that I always manage to pull one extra magic trick out of my ass.

In the times of my life when the lows were at the very bottom, I've come out on top. Every single time.

I am a woman of strength and courage. As an independent person, I have had no issues dealing with life's many challenges on my own.

For the past two years, I've re-found my "Me", the individual who manifests success without being a piece of anything or anyone else.

In these years, I've managed to raise an amazing son on my own with very little assistance. Additionally, I've made a career in marketing in a place where I have no business having a career. Trust me, I am far far from the cosmopolitan NYC where it would be far easier to excel in my field.

Yet, despite my great gift for living my life as a powerful, strong, independent woman and single mom, I'm a huge failure at supporting a personal life of value. This may sound incredibly dismal, but since my split, creating new lasting relationships has been extremely challenging for me.

The people whom I've met over the past two years have come and gone. Friends who seemed so close were merely transient. Granted, I've managed to forge a very small handful of meaningful friendships, which I foresee lasting far beyond decades, but not that many.

There is my disease…my illness, my allergy to love. Every time I come near a heart connection, my body rejects it. I break out in hives, and my insides become full of anxiety. I am the grand master of sabotage whenever a man has come too close to me since my split with Lester. I think I want it to happen. I get so close, and when it begins to manifest, I destroy it with an emotional allergic reaction one could almost call psychotic. Time and time again…someone gets to close to my heart, and I ruin it with fear, expectations that become resentments, and a stirring of past emotions I just can't shake.

In my most recent attempt at opening my soul, I destroyed it as quickly as it came with my ability to dredge up old behaviors and the anxiety that comes with being vulnerable. At first, I believe this is what I want, only to squash it with some sort of outburst of insecurity.

By feeling the beginnings of the possibility of what might be, I dig down deep into my memory banks and find all the moments hidden in my brain, which remind me of what having my heart broken feels like. I opt for breaking my own heart quickly now, rather than dip my toe in the possibility pool.

While I wish for the possibility, my actions take me somewhere else. I remember the last time my heart was ripped in half. I feel it as clearly as the day it first happened. I freeze in my emotions and recollect every single millisecond of the pain it brought me.

And then…..the master of Sabotage takes over. I repeat what I know best, I destroy the very thing I think I want most. My insecurities scramble up against the inner walls of my heart and push away anything and everything in its path.

Alone I can do. I am a powerful independent woman. I am strong if I don't have to love. Love makes me weak, takes my power and eventually cuts me leaving me broken all over again.

My faith in the everlasting has been destroyed. I cannot imagine love without heartbreak. They are synonymous…there is no having one without the other.

Don't get me wrong, I loved being in a committed relationship, I am the serial monogamist. But fear of heartbreak has consumed me. I am no longer patient, I am no longer a believer.

I'd like to embrace my inner romantic. But my memory of the pain wins again.

And so, I've sabotaged another chance, another possibility. There's no turning back. I made sure to document my psychosis in writing and push away yet another thing that got too close to my heart.

There is no blaming anyone but myself.

I say I don't want to be alone, but my actions speak louder than my words.
=============================================================
Unfinished Symphony by Massive Attack -

I know that I've imagined love before
And how it could be with you
Really hurt me baby, really cut me baby
How can have a day without a night
You're the book that I have opened
And now i've got to know much more

The curiousness of your potential kiss
Has got my mind and body aching
Really hurt me baby, really cut me baby
How can you have a day without a night
You're the book that I have opened
And now I've got to know much more

Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part

pass me the Birthday Umbrella please

oh boy...here we go again...when it comes to my birthday, there are somethings I can just rely on...

For as long as I can remember it has always rained on my birthday. Year after year, my poor mother had to get all the kids inside for yet another rainy day activity. As I got older, it was the movies, backgammon, sweats and rainy day activities. I have yet to have a birthday where it hasn't rained. People laugh, they don't believe me...but this is a fact. On June 14th, every year, I promise you, it rains.

and when it rains, it pours....

It all started in 7th grade. I was madly nuts for a boy named Scott Gant. The fact that I remember his full name is sort of funny, but I can't just remember him as Scott. It started during the kissing party phase, we paired off and decided we preferred our making out one on one. I was probably way too young to do the experimenting that I did with him that year. In fact, I know I was. But I was crazy about him. Each weekend, we'd try something more, something new. I was young and confused, but our time together just seemed so .... whatever, it's 7th grade... roll with the story...

My parents threw me a giant NYC expensie 13th Birthday Party. It was supposed to be my Bat Mitzvah, minus the mitzva bit. I was elated, shopping at Fiorucci for the perfect outfit, and all I could think about was Scott Gant feeling me up in it. New padded bra, cute undies, he was so gonna think I'm hot.

As my friends arrived, he came with another girl.... Blair Glaser, and they spent the entire party making out... OMG, whatta bitch! And she was one of my best friends. I am sure I have many other memories of that day, but the one that sticks out is Blair Glaser and Scott Gant making out at my party the entire party.

This would be the first of a string of heartbreak and disappointment (and rainstorms) attached to my birthday year, after year, after year....

Looking back over the past 26 years (man I'm old) since the Scott Gant Curse was put upon me, it's pretty depressing that I've never had a romantic birthday with any of my significant others or love interests. I'm always disappointed. I could lay out using a comedic voice story after story, year after year...

My ex-husband's interpretation of celebrating my birthday was, he'd come home from work, empty handed of course, exclaim, "I'm going to walk the Dog." He hated my dog. He'd come back with a card from CVS down the street and super ugly cheap flowers from the bodega around the corner..."Happy Birthday".

The only time Lester acknowledged my birthday the way I wanted was the year I split up with him. He made a reservation at a restaurant I begged him to take me to for 7 years!!! He gave me gifts, and tried to put together the best birthday I ever had. Sadly, it was so over for me, it was too little way too late.

In looking back starting today, and going back year after year... I can clearly see and feel the heartbreak that comes with my birthday. Last year the guy I liked came to my party and never called me again, the year before the last supper, the years before bodega flowers, the year before I got stood up, the year before was the birthday party where 5 of my ex-boyfriends showed up, the year before my guy got us K instead of Coke so I spent my birthday in a Khole ICK!, and back and back down the memory banks....all disappointing.

What's funny is in reverse, I'm the best girlfriend alive when it comes to birthdays. I throw surprise parties, buy trips to far away lands, take him to get a new tattoo....I always orchestrate the ultimate dream birthday for every single one of my significant others.

So here we are... another birthday... forecast calls for rain... and heartbreak is pretty much guaranteed... my phone isn't ringing.. it's not a good sign.

Now where did I put my umbrella and galoshes?

homework assignment

I awoke on the morning of March 15th, hung over from the night before. I had the most incredulous dream, the kind that feels like it was real. In this dream, I was arrested for drinking and driving. The imagery was vivid, and it felt as though it was actually happening. The cop took me out of the car, put me in the cop car in the front seat in handcuffs. As he drove me away…he held my hand and promised me everything would be ok.

I awoke freaked out. It felt so real.

With a pounding headache and a lust for a cool drink of water and some Advil, I descended down the stairs to grab the phone and call my sister. We don't talk very often, but for some reason, I felt an immense need to call her immediately. We talked for hours about drinking and driving. She explained that she doesn't do it anymore. We talked about how I do, and how it's not really ok.

I knew the dream was an omen, and that it was time to be careful when I go out in the future.

We talked at great lengths about our habits of drinking, and I thought about how much I had been drinking and maybe it was time to scale back.

As the day went on, I did the usual to nurse my hangover from the night before. I had thrown a big party at the Bearsville on Friday night, which was a huge success. As well as it went, I couldn't help but feel alone. Lost. And hung-over. I hyper analyzed my life that day. Going over each aspect of what is happening with my career and life at home and just about everything else I could put together.

I didn't do much else that day. Watched movies. Hung out. Ate my favorite hangover food, popped more advils and drank more lemonade to kill the pain.

It was Saturday night. I didn't want to spend it at home alone.

In my usual pattern, I got dressed up and headed out to my weekly treat, dinner at The Bear Café. Upon arrival, I was greeted by my favorite bartender, who offered me a glass of wine to start off my night. My dinner was my usual, filet mignon, my absolute favorite thing on the menu. I had a second glass of wine with dinner. It was a lovely meal.

While eating, I was met by an acquaintance, who joined me for coffee at the end of my meal. I decided to treat myself to a Sambuca. Come on, it was a celebratory night, it was Saturday.

Something clicked in my brain as I walked out of the restaurant. I was noticeably drunk. I don't normally get drunk so quickly. Something just kicked in.

After dinner, we headed together over to the Bearsville Theater to catch a band I was looking forward to seeing. Instead of ordering soda or water, I continued to drink. Various people were buying me drinks. I didn't bother to say no. I just kept drinking. I barely enjoyed the show. I was too caught up in the fact that it wasn't enough of a party for me.

And so my night went on. I kept driving from bar to bar, looking for the party. It's difficult to put down what it was like…this feeling of wanting "something" to happen. I wanted to find the Fun. In the end, I was just drinking and bar hopping with no purpose in sight.

Somehow, I ended up in Kingston's bar infested uptown. More barhopping.

I don't really remember a whole lot from here.

A bag of cheetos…and another drink… before getting in my car to make the trip back to Mount Tremper.

I have made this trek in this condition many times before. I was a pro. So I thought.

While driving up 28 West … I was messing with my iPod, and at that moment, I got popped.

What's crazy is, I saw it all happen already. Same cop, same scenario. All I could do was cry like a little girl. I was guilty, I had no excuse. My first thought was that I would have to move back to Brooklyn, because I was going to lose my license and how would I get to go out anymore. My second thought was, "OH MY GOD, I AM A MOMMY AND THIS NEEDS TO STOP NOW."

This is the last night I have had a drink. It has been 87 days, and I'm clean and sober.

There's no way I could ever do this again.

a line from my journal... can it really be that Simple

Every time you open your heart to possibility, you take one step closer to Love.

a line from my journal... can it really be that Simple

Every time you open your heart to possibility, you take one step closer to Love.

Full Circle

Often times, I look at life as a circular experience. Without a doubt, these past few weeks have been a series of events, where different pieces of my life have come... Full Circle.

I'm not much of an expert on Numerology, but they have a belief that depending on the year, you experience certain things, year 1... all new, year 9... fully grown, etc...

Last year, I often felt very much like I did the year that I turned 29. Ten years ago, I was on the verge of my life. My career became a career...I was about to get out of the slutty silly dating pool I was in and dive head first into a relationship with my husband, and I was about to grow up and transform from girl to Woman. And I did.

So if last year was 29, am I repeating 30 this year? Man I hope so. 30 was one of the absolute BEST years of my life. It was the year I hit the Zenith of my career, that Lester and I got married, that we got the best apartment in Brooklyn and just everything came together for me. If the concept of Numerology is truly real, then I am coming full circle in my numbers cycle.

Over the past few weeks, I've come face to face with many things that were left forgotten in my past. People, places and things that have put an impression on my personality and my life have stepped back into my life again. Even if the moment is a short one, I've come to terms and had closure with so many experiences in my life the past few weeks.

As a 20-something person, I felt so invincible and never thought about consequences, regrets, or how my choices would effect the world and the people in it.

Now, almost 40, I have no choice but to reevaluate how I live on this planet. How my actions have consequences and that no matter how much I don't want to believe it, I do make an impact on other people's lives. We all do. Each choice I consciously make has an effect on something or someone.

Last weekend, I spent some time working in the Berkshires. It was a joyous wonderful occasion, I got to work a Wedding. It was painstakingly planned out by the bride, every detail mastered before the big day. But of course, when an event is that perfectly planned...something must throw it's wrench in the cogs of the machine. It rained just as the ceremony was about to begin. At that moment, I went into high gear, rearranging everything from chairs, to plants, flowers, etc... I was on. In the end, it was a beautiful ceremony, under a tent, and everyone had a joyous time as they witnessed the happy couple getting married.

This is not so different than life as it is. Expectations can be planned and planned, but the outcome is always a mystery.

While in the Berkshires this past weekend, I spent a good amount of time in Great Barrington, picking up supplies, buying water and food, etc... Driving around, it brought me back to a happy time in my life. Four summers ago, we had a little house in Great B where we spent a week as a happy family. As I cruised through town, I found another and another place where we spent time enjoying ice cream, shopping for goodies, strolling through town....memories of a time when we were good. When things with us were great. I'm a big sap. My ability to dive deep into sentimentality is enormous. And that's exactly what I did, dove head first into feelings about my marriage, my little family and my past and mourned the loss of it all. It gave me insight, and a little more closure.

For whatever reason, I've had a bunch of encounters the past few weeks, bringing various aspects of my life Full Circle. Giving me closure, helping me to get a little closer to taking a bigger step into a new way of life and a new way of thinking. I've learned many lessons of late, discovered great things about my capabilities and my ability to be compassionate, loving, caring, attentive and present.

It's still a little difficult to grasp that I'm turning 39 in just a few days. It sounds like this giant number. But, if I look at it from the numerology point of view, if it's my 9th year in my cycle...I'm in for a great treat, and may this year completely surpass the year I turned 30. I have a funny feeling, it just might...but No Expectations, no expectations here...lol.