In 1993, I was a 21-year-old comunity college student working full-time in the wonderful world of retail.
I took a Radio/ Television production class that required an internship, I dreamed of finding an internship at a television station and making it big in the world of TV.
Well, that didn’t happen. I got an internship at KFI.
Little did I know that KFI was poised to become THE talk station in Southern California. After my internship spent opening mail and answering phones, I was approached with the opportunity to be a “screener” on The Bill Handel show....for a whopping $5.25 an hour!
(Never mind that I had to drive an HOUR from the OC every day at 4am. So even though gas was, I think, 99 cents a gallon at the time, my $5.25 an hour and 20 hours a week barely paid for the gas needed to get back and forth to work. So I had to keep my full-time job as well, all while going to school full-time.)
Little did I know that screeners were just a step up from pond scum and my job served three basic purposes.
Eventually, my part-time thing turned into working many more hours than I should for no additional pay to learn about the wonderful world of producing.
When Bill's producer went on maternity leave, I filled in. When she decided not to return, I was asked if I wanted the job for a pittance above what I was already making. Against my better judgment, I said yes.
Because of that, I missed out on the opportunity to transfer to a university for a REAL college experience (you know what I’m talking about... slacking off and stumbling home half-naked with puke in your hair after getting rip-roaring drunk at fraternity parties.)
With the exception of about 2 years when I worked on other projects here at KFI, I’ve been with Bill’s show my entire KFI career. Why? I like that Bill's a big A-hole and it's fun for me knowing that the women in Bill’s life control him…I like being a part of that.
So that’s it about me except that I’m a native New Yorker, a "Lawng Gyelander"....brought forcibly to California by my parents at the tender age of 15. I’m half Italian/half German, my breasts are a 40D (Bill said to add that) and I’m reasonably OK looking. I got married October 2010, but we've been together since 2001.
My husband and I have a dog, Princess Grace Kelly...a 6 pound chihuahua that controls our lives.
This blog may contain profanity and/or material considered inappropriate. The views expressed in this blog are the opinions of the individual writer and do not necessarily reflect the views of KFI AM-640 and Clear Channel Radio.
I know, pretty serious blog title yes? But it's appropriate for what's happening in my life right now.
I don't claim to know the 'ultimate' meaning of life, that's not what this blog is about. Instead it's about finding the meaning of life in, of all places, death.
For those of you who have noticed, I've been out a few days last week and again this week. My wonderful mother-in-law, Margaret, a woman I've known for going on 14+ years and have been blessed to call her my mother-in-law for two, passed away.
I don't want to go into the details of the situation surrounding it, that's a private family thing, but I will tell you that the last few months have been especially hard on her children, my husband and his sister, and seeing them going through those last few months, and going through them myself was hearbreaking.
I do want you to know that she was the most amazing woman. Kind, loving, generous and funny, man, was she funny. I can really see where my husband got his sense of humor from, it was clear to me every time they were in the room together, the banter they'd have, how she totally 'got' his humor and he totally 'got' hers. She used to have these great one liners that every time I heard them I thought "that would be a GREAT bumper sticker", I always thought, 'man, I've got to carry a pad and pen around with me when we're together', but I always forgot. Now, I wish I would have remembered.
We talk every day about how we're supposed to remember to 'live life to the fullest, enjoy every day.' But day to day we forget that, we get caught up in the stupid stuff, the minutia, the stuff that doesn't matter when it really comes down to it.
When someone dies, it resets you, it makes you think, it points out that we're all going to die eventually, and when we do, what do we leave behind as a legacy?
In death, we remember to think about what it means to live and what a blessing it is. We remember to stop and smell the flowers, to call our loved ones and tell them that we love them, to put aside the petty arguments that seem so out of place in the grand scheme of things. Will we eventually get caught up again in the stupid stuff? Probably, but I hope that every time something like this happens, that another little piece of my brain will remind me to stop and think about what really matters....about what it means to really live.
Years ago, my grandmother passed away. I got a call early one morning telling me to come to see her because it wouldn't be long. When I got there, and walked in the room and held her hand, shortly after, she passed away. I can not tell you how powerful that moment was to me, and as sad as I was, I felt blessed to be there at the moment she left this world.
Last week, as we sat at the hospital with my mother-in-law, a nurse told us that if we thought about leaving to grab something to eat or to step out of the room to make a call, we shouldn't, because in her experience, it wouldn't be too long.
The nurse said to me, 'Sometimes people who are near the end, hold on, not for themselves, but they hold on for you, because they want to know that you'll be ok. So sit with her, talk to her, talk about her, just talk to each other. She can hear you, even if you think she can't. Sometimes just doing that, just letting her hear your voices, talking to each other, sometimes that's enough for her to know you'll all be ok, and she'll let go."
So as my husband, his sister and I sat in her hospital room and talked about Margaret, and to her, and to each other, telling stories, sometimes funny ones, she left this earth in the most peaceful way possible.
To know that her children were there the moment she left this world, and she was the one who brought them into it, was a truly a blessing. As devastated as they are right now, I know they will look back on that day and realize what an honor it was to be there at that moment.
So now, it's up to us to move on with our lives, because that's what we have to do. It's never easy, but I know that because of her death, I will remember what it means to live.