A Day In The Life of The Haiti Lady: Fun Friday Night

Monday, January 05, 2009

Fun Friday Night

Friday I spent the AM at the Funeral for Justin Eilers, the MMA Fighter who was Murdered on Christmas Day. I had the privilege to meet his brother, his mother, his father and step mother and most of all, his son, Tyson. I was able to tell Tyson the story of when his dad cut his leg and I fixed him up. Tyson knew about the pants with the hole in them and said his dad's team all won that night so his dad called them his lucky pants. They thanked me for taking care of him when he was hurt, and I thanked them for making such an amazing guy who was bigger than life itself and who had a smile that lit up the room....he will be missed.

ME WITH JENS PULVER

Friday night we went to Shorty's for a benefit being put on for Tyson that was hosted by Jens Pulver from the UFC/ECW. Jens is a great guy who is friendly with the fans and took pictures and gave out his autograph (yeah, I got one...hehe) He even signed one guys fake leg for him! ;-)

I have to say, I have not been to a bar in ages, don't ever go out like that and tend to be home early except on Fight Nights when I must be out late. I am not sure how some people 'party' their life away, since one night stuck with me for 2-3 days...hehe. Curt says it is because I am getting old and I never built up a tolerance for it.

All in all, I had fun, hung with a couple of my favorite guys....here they are:

ME AND"SHORTY"

ME AND DAVE "THE URBAN ASSASSIN"

ME, JENN, LESLIE, STEPH

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We Are Responsible

We are responsible for children who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
who like to be tickled,
who stomp in puddles and ruin their pants,
who sneak Popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.
And we are responsible for those who stare at photographers from behind barbed wires,
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers, who never "counted potatoes",
who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead,
who never got to the circus,
who live in an x-rated world.
We are responsible for children
who give us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who sleep with the dog and bury goldfish,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
who cover themselves with Band-Aids and sing off-key,
who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
who slurp their soup.
And we are responsible for those who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can't find any bread to steal,
who don't have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
whose monsters are real.
We are responsible for children who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed ,
and never rinse the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and
whose smiles can make us cry.
And we are responsible for those whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren't spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.
We are responsible for children who want to be carried, and for those who must be...
For those we never give up on,
and for those who don't get a second chance.
For those we smother... and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.
~Ina Hughes