Saturday, October 31, 2009

Oh Brother John, Where Art Thou

I was in New York for a couple days trying to learn some new yoga. I met a friend who has this thing with liquids apparently.
We go into Starbucks so my friend can get a Chai tea. Apparently orange juice, water, and diet coke is not enough beverage for 10 am. I sit down at a table to wait cause it's a long line. I decide to try to answer a couple e mails from my phone. Someone taps on my shoulder.
"Excuse me, excuse me." he says.
I look up and see an interesting looking fellow to say the least.
"You are beautiful," he says to me.
I'm not sure what's going on here. I look around for my friend. No where to be seen. I glance at the women at the table next to me on her laptop. She didn't even look up. I'm in New York City after all.
"Thank you so much," I say to him.
"You are beautiful!" he repeats. "What are you? Italian? German? Irish? What? Italian?" he fires off at me?
"Um... I don't know," I stammer out like an idiot.
He doesn't seem to notice. He just keeps talking.
"You know what I like so much about you?" he ask me as he takes my hand in his?
I'm not sure if this normal.
"No," I answer.
"Your shape. You've got a great shape," he says. Then he kisses my hand.
"Listen, I haven't eaten breakfast. Do you have any money you can give me?" he asks quite confidently.
Oh, I see now.
"I guess so," I say as I look around again to see if someone is going to intervene.
At this point he lets go of my hand for a second to make someone move out of the table he has planned on sitting at after he got some latte money from me. I have to hand it to him, the guy moved. In the same breath he got some notebook paper off a different guy because as he informed me, he was a writer.
"I'm Brother John," he says. "I'm going to be a Saint. Now listen to me. Fold up the money in your hand when you give it to me, if they see you handing it to me they'll kick me out. How much are you giving me? They kicked me out the other day because I took to long in the bathroom. I took five minutes! Most people take thirty minutes! With the toilet paper and everything. And you know what thirty plus thirty is right? An hour!"
Where the hell is my Chai tea friend???
I give him two dollars. Apparently that wasn't enough because he seemed a little annoyed at me for a second but quickly shook it off and continued to talk to me as he took my hand in his again.
"You are so beautiful. You have an aura about you."
Maybe I should have given him more.
At this point I look up and see that my friend has ordered the tea and has to wait for it but is looking right at Brother John and I. I give a little smile that says, "When the hell are you coming over here?" All I see is the Iphone pointed at me! Oh I understand... there will be no saving. Only evidence.
"You look like a celebrity," Brother John says as he kisses my hand.
"I do? Who?" I'm starting to really like Brother John.
"Dolly Parton!" he says very loudly. "I"m a singer you know. How old is Tony Bennett? I sang with him in the park. I love your shape. You know who Dolly Parton is?" Brother John says.
I quickly txt "I'm so glad you're enjoying this."
Finally the Chai is ready so we can go now. Brother John looks at my friend and says, "She's beautiful."
He got a nod of agreement.
I stand up. "It was so nice meeting you Brother John!"
My hand gets another kiss. I think he even sort of bowed at me.
"Have a good day," I say.
I'm sitting here in my warm house on this rainy Halloween and I'm really hoping Brother John had a good breakfast today.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Does Funny Outway (that's for you Kitk) Lazy?

Does it?
If someone is funny can we overlook their laziness?
My children are lazy.
Lazy as dogs on a hot summers day.
Of course they're not lazy when it comes to certain things. They are not lazy when it comes to making weekend plans. They are not lazy when they are hungry and need to ask me to make them something to eat. They are not lazy when it comes to snatching a twenny or three from me for ice skating or movies, or getting nails done, or lunch at the local sushi place with their friends. And they are certainly not lazy when asking if they can get a massage too. Nope, then they are full of the vitality you would expect out of pre teens.
However, they do get a little lazy when it comes to cleaning their rooms, carrying their water glass downstairs, picking up the laundry they have strewn on the side of their bed, putting their dishes in the dishwasher, turning off the tv, or a host of other menial tasks their maid (by maid I mean me) can do.
Today though we had a little family event. We cleaned out the playroom together. Well, Chase and I did. We went through old books and his dinosaurs and a plethura of other junk they hadn't looked at in years. Chase took this opportunity to taking anything electronic that didn't work and move it to his room. He then got all the screwdrivers he could find and disassembled them. Then he tired of that task and left all the crap all over the floor. To lazy to put it in the trash. Don't worry, the maid (me) will get that, Baby!
Saige wandered in and out while she was busy on the phone making her plans for the day. She was able to partake in a few fights over if Chase could take apart the cell phone she hadn't looked at in years and if she could keep the camp flag that Chase bought with his own (parents) money. So that was fun.
Finally I shooed them out to go mess up their rooms and continued on with my cleaning. I did put stuff in the hallway and ask them to take it down to the garage.
Here's Chase, "Um, Mom? Is Saige going to help me because I have already done a lot today!"
So that was funny.
Got a good belly laugh out of that one.
But I really just laughed when I looked at my eleven year old daughters facebook page. It came to my attention cause when I clicked on the home page it said she was now listed as "Single." Huh? Good I think!
So I clicked on her page to see what was going on with her. Not only is she single but apparently has two children who have different last names and four siblings. Now, I don't know. There is a lot of my past that is somewhat foggy but I clearly remember giving birth only twice. Maybe they're her fathers and I just didn't know about them til now. Stranger things have happened.
But really, she's a funny kid. Both her and Chase make me laugh daily. So my vote goes to funny kind of outweighs lazy but I am going to Mean Mommy until those rooms are clean.
Or at the very least Diligent Maid.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

A Public Service Announcement

Okay, so we got the lo down or the down lo or whatever it is that is being said these days.

I'll be the first to one to tell you, I'm cool. No. Really. For real... ( in my head). At least as far as forty year old mothers go. So I don't understand txt shorthand. Half the time I have to get my daughter to translate what she has written. And sometimes my children don't think I am nearly as funny as I think I am but I'm sorry, as far as mother's go, I'm not so bad.
I just don't know a thing.

I always thought that because I was of questionable "goodness" in high school and Marc probably fell under even that blurry line that we would have no problem with kids as they became teenagers. We would know. Whatever they could bring at us, one of us would have done it at some point in our checkered youth.

It's not the eighty's anymore people. Hole-Lee.

Seriously, right?

So tonight Suzy and I take the girls (hers and mine, 13 and 11) out to dinner. Sue is also "cool." She's also a much tougher nut than I am. No actually does mean no in her house and there is no bickering about it. Although tonight I did hear her daughter, Jade's side of what will be known as "the Halloween costume," incident. Jade wanted to be candy corn witch. Apparently that costume is somewhat trashy and low cut. Sue wanted to fix it so it didn't appear quite so revealing. Jade was annoyed. Sue ended the discussion with, "Honey, I just don't want you to look like a hussy." Nuff said.

So we got the girls talking. Jade spoke of how she is friends with everyone, the popular kids, the jocks, even the druggies. She doesn't do drugs but she doesn't judge her friends that do.
"So what kind of drugs to kids do these days?" I ask. I am thinking she is going to say, "Pot or Ecstasy," or something I have heard of,
Not so much.
"Purple mist," Jade says.
"What the hell is that?" I ask. "Purple mist? What do you do? Spray it on you? Is it perfume? Do you inhale it? Huff it? Do kids still huff? Where do you get it? I don't understand!!!? I spew out.
"I don't know." she says slowly, "I guess they inhale it," she says.
"Inhale it how? Smoke it? Is there a joint involved? A bong? A hairspray bottle? Whip its? Huffing? Do kids still huff? What is huffing anyway? I never understood how that worked?"
They just stared at me for a minute.
"Come on. I don't understand what it is," I look at Sue for answers.
She takes a sip of wine and says, "I don't know either, Honey."
"What about you Saige," I ask, "Do you know anyone that does drugs?"
"No. I think drugs are stupid," she says.
"Well they are, but people, kids in particular can be stupid too. I just want to know what goes on. What else is there?"
"There's Murr," Jade chimes in.
"Murr? What the hell is that? Isn't that something one of the wisemen brought the baby Jesus? What do kids do with that?"
They all just shrugged their shoulders with wide eyes and shook there heads that they didn't know
This worries me.
It's an uphill battle this whole parenting deal.
What seemed like a nice idea when you were looking at baby name books and picking out crib bedding has taken a whole new turn. Middle school. Boys, drugs, kissing, trashy Halloween costumes, and bitchy girls, combat that with the influences outside of school, sibling rivalry, sports pressure, friends with troubles, divorce, the list goes on and on.

My head is spinning. I mean really, Murr? What is that? I am going to google it and get back to you. Until then, I think we could all use a little yoga. Right?

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

EggSensual Moment

My phone rings. I am already on the phone with someone else that I don't want to hang up with but my caller id says it's one of my very best friends.
"Hold on," I tell caller one.
I answer.
"Hey, can I call you back in five minutes," I say.
"It better be five minutes or I'm going to kick your ass," the cute little voice says.
I call her back quickly because my recommendation of moo shoo chicken seems to be a big hit with caller number one although they did complain about wrapping it themselves. Ok, Lazy.

So I call back caller number two.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"I'm having an eggsensual moment, is that right? Is that how you say it?" she says.
"Existential?" I ask, laughing.
"Yes! I've been drinking since six o'clock tonight and I'm leaving the Catholic church tomorrow!"

At this point I decide a glass of wine is in order for me, cause this could get good.

"What happened?" I like to keep my Catholic thoughts to myself cause I get scared.
"I got my third letter from them tonight! Three letters! There was more postage on there than there was for the Obama/Bush campaign, or whoever is running now," she says rather loudly.
My smile is so wide right now. I love this woman so much. She delights me daily with her stories but when she gets pissed it borders on a festival. A good one. Not one of those gross food ones. A music festival!
"So what happened?" I ask again.
"I called some of my Catholic friends, they all had suggestions, so I hung up and called you. I needed to talk to a real person."
(I'm taking that as a compliment)
"I can't explain what happened cause I've been drinking since six," she tells me again.
"What are you drinking?" I am curious. She does enjoy a Brandy on occasion.
"The box," she says.
"Of course, the box."
"I"m so mad though, I have looked all over the house for my white wine glass and I can't find it anywhere! I"m leaving the church!"
"What happened?" I try again.
"Three letters! I'm leaving and I'm stapling a thousand dollar check with my resignation!" she says.
"Is it like leaving the Bloods or the Crips? You have to be beat out or sexed out or pay out? Do they pay their way out?"
This is completely ignored.
"Three letters! I'm a good person. I'm leaving!"

I still am not really clear on what happened. I do believe it was a long time coming though. I have heard more than one Catholic person say, "I don't believe what they say but it was how I was brought up, so I'm doing it."
This always makes me cock my head to the side like the dumb blonde I am.
I don't judge though.
Catholic, Jewish, those of us with no set religion. We're all just human.
I am from the religion of "Be a nice person."
I wish everyone was.
Now where's that box?
Sue? The day ends in y...

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Birds of A Feather

My friend is crazy. That's why I like her. The other day I tried to write a sweet post about these nice cards my daughter made me. Now most would just say, "Isn't that sweet." but not Twisty. Nope. She decided to write me her own list. I am posting it below with a picture of her for each reason she loves me.

1. You love ME more than anything. Me. ME, ME, ME! Sorry, Saige.

1a. Yes! More than anything! Except that bird on your shoulder. You know how I love the chickens!
2. You really are very supportive. Frighteningly so, in fact. Take drop backs, for instance, and the way you shout, "do it." I feel quite supported.

2a. While yes it's true that I am very supportive of when you are being a big baby and won't do a simple drop back, here it looks like you are supporting me. I love you for that!
3. You always care about my need to make you laugh.

3a. Why yes, I do care about that because the laughs are so few and far between. Stop being so serious all the time!
4. You love to encourage me (to do stupid and sometimes dangerous things so you can take pictures).

4a. While you are right, I do encourage that, I somehow remember standing on a very flimsy branch hanging over the roaring ocean while yelled at me to let go and hold up my foot. I love that about you.
5. You love to listen to my reaction to what you have to say.

5a. I love to listen and look at the reaction you will give me. It is always so motherly. Like hot cocoa on a cold winters day.
(My favorite part is your two little cherubs behind you. So innocent and sweet. Omnamahnaamyshromm)
6. You're willing to drive me to yoga workshops (as long as I'm Cheese Bitch).

6a. This picture screams "Cheese Bitch." Thank you for that.
7. You've never braided my hair after a shower. Harassed me while I cut my hair, yes, but braided it, no. And I love you for that.

7a. Wait, what did you say? I wasn't listening.
8. You always try to help me with my home painting, laying bricks. Oh, wait, no...that's my other friend.

8a. I don't know what friend is helping you lay bricks (are you talking about that guy that went all Red Hot Chili Peppers in highschool? Never mind that. I don't care who helps you with those tasks. Nobody can do this! Nobody!
9. You will eat the blueberry mojitos I make.

9a. I will eat those blueberry mojitos til the cows come home but I am going to have to pass on the dead bat. Is that cool? You still love me?
10. There are a GAZILLION other reasons, but, like your mom always says, Saige: this isn't a contest.

10a. One of the gazillions of reasons I love YOU is because This is Your husband! Come on, Can I get an Amen?
I love you. And Buddha too.

Bonus: But this here, this is the reason that I love you most of all. Cause you're Twisted!

Monday, October 19, 2009

Hornie Princess

I don't like babies. I just thought I'd throw that out there because I always get nervous smiles or laughter when I say it. Most people who know me just shake their heads and laugh cause, well... they know me.

However I totally get the biggest kick out of kids once they turn about 2. 3's perfect and 4 year olds can keep me entertained all day long.

Crazy Twisty (who is getting her own special post as soon as I gather all the evidence) has a little boy whose words will delight me for days on end. I love the way little kids talk, they way the enunciate their words, their odd little accents that they have picked up from who knows where, and especially the stories that come out of their mouthe's.

This weekend my friend was here with me. Her almost 5 year old joined us Sunday but that story is way to convoluted to delve into so I won't even try. So yesterday Marc walks in with Saige and Chase and Hannah to drop them off and puts a unicorn on the couch. He looks at us and says, "Meet Hornie."
"I'm sorry?" I say.
"Her unicorn. She named it Hornie," he informed us with a smirk.
"I got it at Build a Bear," Hannah stated proudly with the brilliant innocence of a child who has named their unicorn Horny because it has a horn. Shame on the rest of us for giggling and laughing.
"Yes, well maybe we can think of a different name for it," her Mom said looking a little embarrassed.
Marc just smiles as he shakes his head no.
"No. I put it on the birth certificate," Hannah states proudly.

Fast forward to today. We were getting ready to run some errands and Hannah says to me in the cutest little voice ever, "Amy, can I bring my horse to play with because I never got a unicorn at build a bear before."
"By all means, pack up Hornie and let's get a move on," I say.
"We are calling her by her middle name today," Hannah says, "Hornie is her first name."
"What is she going by today?" I ask.
"Princess! Her name is Hornie Princess!"

Of course it is.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

10 Reasons Why I Love You

Saige made me a present. She brought it in to me tonight. She cut out and colored 11 cards and drew hearts all over them.
10 Reasons Why I Love You
1. She loves me more than anything
2. She is so supportive
3. She always cares about my needs at ANYTIME
4. She loves to encourage me for ANYTHING
5. She loves to listen to what I have to say. ALWAYS
6. She's willing to drive me to my academic activities. She will always make it work.
7. She always braids my hair after a shower.
8. She always tries to help me with my homework.
9. She will eat the dinners that I make.
10. You are the best mom ever! I love you and theres 100000 more reasons why I love you but these are just ten.

Be still my heart.
I couldn't ask for anything more.
When my kids were really little they used to go to the gym with me everyday. At that time they loved the Barenaked Ladies song, "If I Had A Million Dollars." We listened to it all the time in the mornings on our way in. The last line of the song says, "If I had a million dollars... I'd be rich!" Without fail, one or both of them would say, "Are we rich Mom?" My response was the exact same thing every time, "We are rich because people love us."
Tonight I felt like the richest person in the world.

When I told her this was a blog post. She said, "Make sure you say that when I said, 'she always tries to help me with my homework, the underline was on tries."
Rich and stupid. Oh well, things could be worse.

Now, You Know, drop and give me ten. Oh, I'm sorry! Is this not my class? My bad.

Pavlov's Dog

Pavlov was so smart. Him and that dog. I think he really could have done a little human testing though and found the exact same thing. We are all Pavlov's dog, right? We get conditioned to be a certain way and then it takes an entire re-learning process to break out of it.

You can see it so easily in other people all the time. The way they react to situations. The way people follow relationship patterns. They have the same one repeatedly, with different people, whether it is good or bad. They allow people to treat them a certain way. Their habits and customs and figures of speech. We are completely captive of our emotions, our instincts and our conditioning. History proves that over and over again. People still fight wars, there is greed and hate and damage to the environment. We've seen the effects but it doesn't stop us. A universe full of Pavlov's dog. Can we change it and begin to control at least our own personal destiny or are we just stuck in stream of evolution?

I have a friend who had a really awful, crazy, insane, drug addict, boyfriend. She finally got rid of him. She had a new boyfriend. He had some better qualities, but many the same and instead of doing cocaine he is taking steroids. He didn't care when she was sad, he invaded her privacy, he tried to control her, but yet she was upset when he broke up with her for the fourth time in two days. I said, "I don't understand, what was the draw? How was he making you happy?" She said to me, "Well, he's good with my child and he never hit me." Holy God. That's how low her bar is set? I feel like I need to repeat a thousand times, "You are to good for that. You are an amazing person. You deserve someone who can make you as happy as you make them." If I repeat it enough will it break her of a habit of putting herself aside for someone else? Making excuses for people and settling? Or is she to conditioned from previous relationships that this is what is "normal?"

But what about ourselves?
Seeing it in someone else is easy. Realizing that you do it too is so eye opening. I have found that it's hard for me to tell people when I'm sad. I am really good at making them feel better about my stuff or just not saying anything at all. I know I will be able to get through it alone (or with the help of my payed shrink). I might tell them what is going on but I have a hard time admitting how it is affecting me. I learned a long time ago that some people don't want to hear it. They have had their own long day. They don't want to hear that you're sad. You have no reason to be sad. Shut up. Smile. Look pretty. Your problems aren't nearly as valid as theirs.
Last night I needed to talk. I realized that how I was feeling was a little to much for me on my own. So first I txted a friend, almost as the heads up that I wasn't okay. Kind of giving them an out in case they didn't feel like listening. Although I said, "Don't call me. I don't feel like talking," my phone rang immediately. So I talked. I talked and cried and was completely honest with my feelings. I heard myself saying to my friend, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to do this. I hate to complain."
You know what I got?
"Shut up."
"Shut up? Shut up? YOU shut the f*&k up!"
That didn't happen. Not last night at least. ;)
Last night the "Shut up" I heard was followed by. "Don't ever apologize for telling me how you feel. You can't be happy all the time. You are allowed to feel sad. When you do, I want you to call me first. Don't tell me you are bothering me. I want to hear everything. Good and bad. I want to be here for you."
I listened and then explained that I would need retraining. Don't get frustrated with me if I hold back at times. It's what I am conditioned to.
Like Pavlov's dog.

Thank you friend and friends and Mommy :)

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

My Precious Baby

My ten year old son was sick this week. He was actually sick on Monday but he had a big weekend and he has cried wolf before. I tend to not have a lot of patience with the Monday blues. I tell him, "Be sick on Friday and we'll talk. Monday doesn't work for me." I sent him off to school and went about my day.
Yesterday he really was sick. He had a fever and he slept for hours and hours. I kept going up in my room where he was asleep to watch his chest move up and down he was sleeping for so long. Finally he woke up and felt a lot better. He came downstairs with me and we sat on the couch and talked. Before he was sick, this summer, he had been a little distant. For a while I thought it was his age and his hormones but lately I have come to realize he just had a lot on his mind. As we sat there and talked yesterday and laughed I was so happy to see my little boy start to seem his normal self to me again. We were laughing about something and he looked at me and said, "How did we get such a perfect life together?"
My heart must have skipped a beat. I could not possibly love this child any more than I do.
"I know," I said. "Right?"
He looked at me so sweetly and said, "How do you think we found each other?"
Oh my God, I love these moments when it's so obvious that your child is your own. When their thinking links up to yours in ways that others might not understand.
I said, "You picked me baby. You came to me."
He just smiled. He loves my metaphysical, past lives, crazy, koo koo, spiritual stuff. Cause he's so my child.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Breaking My Heart

I have an eleven year old daughter. She is amazing. She is a good human being. She understands people. This year, especially I have watched her go from a child slightly uncomfortable in her skin to a confident young lady. She has her moments of crazy (who amongst us doesn't) but she told me the other day, "Only with you Mom. I don't care when we get in arguments, I know you love me." We sat there and laughed because there are times that child will not take no for an answer, will not back down, will not just walk away. Even when I say, "Walk away." At the time it's kind of annoying but after a while if it was her deal, she always comes in and says, "I'm sorry." I do too if it was my thing. It works.

Today she had two friends over. They were supposed to be here til 6.30. She came in and asked if they could stay til 8. I said, "sure," and went about doing what I was doing. I was on the phone with my friend and Saige came in and whispered, "What kind of therapist did you want to be Mom?" I pointed to the phone to signal I was busy.
She said, "It's really important."
I got off the phone and she said, "Lily is in there crying."
"Why?" I asked.
"She called her dad and asked if she could stay longer and he yelled at her and said he was coming to get her now. Now she is afraid he is going to scream at her when he picks her up. Can you come talk to her. Be a therapist."

My heart sunk. This isn't the first time I have heard about this dad. She has cried while at my husbands house about him. I have heard stories. Her parents are going through a divorce and she is happy about that. She tells the girls that she hates him. I don't know her mother well enough to talk about it. I feel awful having this little girl at my house and sending her off in tears because she is afraid of her own dad. It breaks my heart in a million little pieces.

I sat down on the floor with them and she cried and said that he gets so mad. It scares her. She was crying so hard it made me nervous that it was more than yelling. I had to ask her. I said, "Sweetheart, are you afraid if he's going to hit you?" She kept her eyes down and said, "I don't remember if he ever did that." I asked if she had called her Mom and told her and she said that her mom didn't answer. We sat and talked about how she felt and what to do and I don't remember feeling quite so helpless as right then. The other friend here had all sorts of ways to get her away from the dad. Trying to make her laugh. Not understanding the situation enough, having never lived it. I asked Lily, "Have you ever told anyone before or talked about it?" She tilted her head up with all those tears and said, "Just Saige." as she looked at my daughter. The beauty of that friendship made me smile for a second. Then I got sad again.

I walked out with her when he got here. My daughter and her other friend hugged her so tight and said, "We wish you were staying." I wanted to yell at that man and tell him he was a f*#kin' bully. Seriously, men who scare their children on a daily basis make me sick to my stomach. I know it wouldn't have helped her though so I made small talk and tried to be nice. The girls gave him some Halloween candy to try and make him happy and smiled. It was so fake and such bullshit. It made me so mad. I felt like I was teaching them the wrong thing. Smile. Be nice. Make sure you don't piss the bully off even more. He's bigger, he's stronger, he's louder. Just smile. But she's just a little girl. I wanted her to get home and feel safe. That should have been a given.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Supremely Pathetic

I love a good word. Sometimes I just love the way they sound like, charlatan. It has a certain zing to it. It sounds like you want it to mean. Or rascal or illuminated or overzealous. "The sign on the marquee was illuminated and the overzealous fans began to chant (another good one) as the actor portraying the charlatan sauntered cat-like down the red carpet." The whole thing might not make such good sense but I love the words.

There are also words that I dislike (as oppose to like, not like posable or opposable thumbs, please follow along). Sometimes I don't even know why I don't like certain words, for instance I hate the word masseuse. You can't say that word without someone getting a goofy look on their face and asking about a happy ending (also a vile word grouping and really just gross on it's own volition). I hate the word crack, either when it pertains to the butt region or the drug.

I can't stand the word "platter," like when you are in a restaurant and someone says, "I'll have the such and such platter." It makes me crinkle up my nose and shake my head. But that's just me.

Turn of phrase. I love a good turn of phrase. I also love the term, turn of phrase.

I like when people make you laugh by speaking in newspaper headline terms about bizarre events. I used to live on this very busy road that my friend Jen was convinced I would meet my demise while fetching the days post. There wasn't a time she was there (lounging around smoking cigarettes) that I wouldn't come in the front door with the days correspondence that she wouldn't say, "West Chester woman-child dies while retrieving the mail. Story at Eleven."

Now just as my good friends, the people who love me, would never say, "Crack," (or probably do it for that matter). They will also try and delight me with the way they speak or write. I have a friend who teased me all week with a word he had on a tablet (not a notebook, Friends, tablet) and he also found this word on a card he was sending to me. He gave me hints. It starts with an "A" ends with a "T", three syllables. It stumped me all week, until I got the card. :)

So, is there a point to this whole bit of blathering about what entertains me?
Last night Saige and I were at Twist's house for a delicious home made dinner. As we were clearing stuff up Twist leans into me. The twinkle in her eyes let me know that I was going to enjoy what came next. She started to refer to something and said, "You know I found...(not to be named)... supremely pathetic." It honestly made me fall on the floor laughing. Supremely pathetic? Can you imagine what you deserve to get that title? I had tears streaming down my face because I knew it already. I could have called it from a million miles away but the fact that she said it, well, just took it to a whole new level.
Saige came down the stairs, "Are you guys okay?" my daughter asked. "Fine, why?" I said, confused. "It's just that you're screaming down here," she had a slight look of concern on her face. Kirsten kicked up in a handstand and said, "It's just your Mom Saige, she's... odd."

Some I Like:
plethora (this can really go either way)
zingy, (Zongy and Bittera)
hither (as in come)

when people say "pressed" instead of "ironed"
buoyancy (I just don't like it)
ball breaker
oodles (yuck)

Okay, I'm going to read Postsecret now...

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Yeah, Yeah, What She Said... The BOOTS...

As quoted by Asude...
don't forget to start tomorrows story with me, the morning after drinking 2 white wines, a mojito, a cosmo, a crazy pineapple vodka drink, two glasses of red wine, and two beers, didn't throw up or get hung over. I win.

And I think Christy was just being nice. I scared her off. I was a hot mess. You were brilliant. Her husband came to save her!

You forgot to mention the dorky guy doing handstand pushups and he bet you couldn't do them and you did more than him.

AND you forgot to set up the boots with me talking about them in the car on the way up and at the bar with your brother and Kevin. sheesh Amy, do I need to write this myself?!?!

Oh, and when you post a pic of the boots, please crop out my rained on mess of top half!

You totally won Girl! No doubt. I slept way longer and my brother did too! You are the Queen of the Alcoholics! I am going to make you a crown. Just like I am making your birthday and Christmas presents (cause MHHAG). You better hope you don't get any soda bottles. My brothers will all tell you that was one of my big gifts as a child.

Let me start by saying, and I am a little embarrassed about this... I totally forgot about that idiot challenging me to hand stand push ups. That's really neither here nor there though because I believe what you are hoping for is a post about "the boots."
Ah, the boots. The hooker boots. We did talk about over the knee hot hot boots on the way up in the car. You were wanting them before we even got to the chosen land and the amazing and wonderful Roanne the store manager who knew my life story in the first five minutes we were in the store. There wasn't even a cat in there!

So Asude and I went into this beautiful Italian shoe store. She found a pair of amazingly, insanely, sexy, thigh high black suede boots. It was a little magical. My heart still beats a little faster when I think about it. But alon, I mean alas, Asude could not bite the bullet because the boots bordered on Israel, I mean pricey. We decided to let Roanne hold them while we walked around the city. We hit every shoe store from Chelsea to Soho. Oh how Suzie tried to make them work. She would see a cheaper pair and get all excited. She would put them on and sometimes she just knew it was wrong, sometimes it was me who had to say, "Please take them off, they are offending me." Or, "You look like a pirate Matey. Buy them and lets go hijack something with our claw paws." So see, nothing worked. Once you put on thousand dollar pair (just kidding Mr. Asude) of boots, cheap copies are nothing more than cheap copies and truthfully just offensive to the already shattered psyche. ;)

We finally came to a decision and Asude sold some of her frozen eggs and decided to purchase the real boots. She needed a little liquid courage because the nine cocktails from the night before were long gone out of her blood stream. We went to Live Bait, contemplated a minute and headed back to the store. My brother met us there and gave the nod. That would be the "Gay nod," to those in the know. That is the ultimate acceptance. A gay man thinks something you are wearing is hot. You are hot. No questions asked. Just pass go and don't get caught collecting your two hundred dollars unless you have an internet friend who knows the inner workings of Western Union and a friend in the FBI.

To date she has worn them twice. That's only five hundred dollars a wear! (Just kidding AGAIN! Mr. Asude).

BTW Slackers, "Everybody's got a dream!" is from Pretty Woman! Duh! The originator of the over the knee hooker boots.
Love, Your Beck and Call Girl Who Loves to Smell the Ocean through Pinecones

Suzy with the bag in her hand

That cat from Shrek
(and Suzie, you're not a hot mess, his apartment is because we tend to trash the place...)

New York: This is A Long Story

Ok, Suzie, I will talk New York, New York, the city of dreams... For you. Cause you know why? Everybody's got a dream! Can anyone name that movie line? It's from our most talked about movie of the weekend, but we'll get to that later.

Asude and I went to New York to see my gorgeous gay brother that every woman and man I know gets a crush on. Since I was a little kid and my friend Laura ran up to him, grabbed his arm and kissed it. I guess that's what happen when your soul is so pure. It radiates. Anyway, enough gushing about Mark. This isn't about him! Well, not this part, not yet.

So we also went to meet Christy and went from cyberspace to IRL friends with her! We met her at a bar. We had planned on being totally normal and showing that internet friends aren't crazy axe murders IRL (fingers crossed, right? :) ). Unfortunately our plan was foiled because on the way up to the city I heard some disturbing news. This news sent me into a little bit of shock. Sue had to take over driving. Sue had to be our adult supervision. Sue is known to put away nine cocktails in a night. :) Uh oh...
So we had a great dinner with beautiful Christy. She was fun. She didn't even seem to mind our craziness. We bar hopped. I did a few handstands. Sue made us laugh. Then Marc and Kevin showed up. That's when we thought we lost her.
The five of us went to another bar. Mark ordered us wine and cheese cause we are very civilized in my family. The only thing is this was about our fourth bar and people like to buy drinks for you when you do handstands so we were verging on silly. Christy went to the bathroom and we thought we lost her. Sue looked at me and said, "Was I to loud? Did I scare her away?"
She came back!
She liked us. Right Christy? You did right?
We love you!
We finished off the night at a gay bar where it took all of 30 seconds to find a gay boyfriend. Sue and I didn't stay long though. We decided to call it a night.
We went back to my brothers apartment, fell asleep and accidently locked out my brother for the night. Whoopsie.
New York- The first Five Hours!
Tomorrow Suzy, the boot story.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Twisting the Day Around

Yesterday started out a little rocky. It could have gone one of two ways, like they all can, up or down there Twisty, just like a handstand can go. I chose up. It looked a little shaky there for a bit but in the end it was all good.
I couldn't seem to get out of the house yesterday morning. I had a long list of things to do (you know, like a million) and I needed all the time I could wring out of the day. It just wasn't taking though! I kept getting side tracked. So finally I was ready to go. The pool guys were in the back yard closing the pool for the season (cause I live in one of those states where it gets cold) and I had my gym bag ready to go and was on the phone with a really awesome friend of mine that I haven't talked to in a while. I was so happy chatting away, while trying to get out the door.
I was putting my big German Shepherd in the mudroom (cause the pool guys were outside in her backyard and she can't be trusted anywhere near the kitchen without adult supervision) to stay while I was gone. All of the sudden she started to spin around and fell hard on the floor. She was having a seizure. This is very scary to see. It's also scary when it's over because her brain has to regulate itself from where ever she has gone and it can be a little unnerving because she is very agitated. Once she came out of it and was a trying to come back I got her to eat two valium (yum) and started to clean up. That was almost the last of the valium. She needs that! I called the vet. I am going to get her some more. Now, not that I care about this, but did you know dog valium and people valium are the same thing? Just a side note there.
Then I got it all together and she was calm and I made her a comfy spot and she rested while she was in there and probably didn't mind being inside while the men closed the pool at all cause she was all relaxed and comfy. So that could be considered good.
I finally left. When I got halfway to the gym I looked down on the seat next to me and realized my wallet wasn't there. I totally knew it was gone. I had a feeling it wasn't going to have fallen between the seats. A little something in my head told me I had left it somewhere. I mentally retraced my steps and saw it in the front of the grocery cart the night before. My daughter had called me right when I was unloading the groceries in the car and I got distracted and left it there. I called 411 (although I was itching to dial 911), I got customer service from the store and they had my wallet in the safe! See, that could of gone bad too but it didn't. I learned a little lesson, got my wallet, all good.
I figured I had at least one more good thing coming to me because these things happen in three's. I ended the afternoon in the Apple store for a website lesson. I love the Apple store people so much that even though I don't bake I always feel like bringing them a big old tub of brownies. Yesterday's lesson was the same. Fantastic.
Just making some lemonade.