Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Firecracker 400...aka Mother (thought she) Knows Best

Time for the annual Family Fourth of July Free-For-All!!!

Mother is smart.  When she was starting to consider retiring, in the grand tradition of all NJ retirees, she started trying to narrow down which part of Florida would suit her inner snowbird best.  As it happens, she was somewhat familiar with Daytona because her college best friend lived there.  Many a time had Husband and I visited her for a Race or during a trip to Disney...World, not Land...because really...World is the most wonderful, yes, ok, FINE, Happiest Place on Earth...Land, on the other hand, is...how to be diplomatic (clearly diplomacy is reigns supreme over the voices) Land is...well...the Happiest Ghetto on Earth.  Moving on...we often spent time in Daytona, as did Sister and Mother.  It occurred to Mother, that if she were to build her retirement home there, we would have to come visit, as we already go there!  So she did.

Retiring was something with which she had a bit more difficulty...it was years before it finally...ummmm...completely...took.  As an elementary school principal this meant that during the early years in the Daytona house...Ormond Beach, really, gated, country club community...she would DIE if she thought I'd let people think she lived in Daytona proper...she came and went during the school year but was ALWAYS in residence during the summer.  Clever girl that she is, bought our seats for the Firecracker 400...as she wasn't necessarily there during the Daytona 500 at that point...and began giving us our tix each year as Christmas prezzies...thus ensuring herself a houseful every 4th of July!!!


I'm not entirely sure that she doesn't regret not consulting with Clark W Griswold prior to committing herself to this Hap-hap-happy Family Holiday!  That's right...it's a triple negative...I went there.  Mother has become accustomed to living alone.  The only person's voice you have to hear when you live alone is your own...when you talk to yourself...you know you do it, too.  When you invite your family...having told them how much you're enjoying the quiet...and your family includes me...in my defense, I'm not even the one that yells...the volume pretty much hits 11 and stays there.  Everyone now has mom...who, may I remind you, wanted us there, tho this quickly slips her mind, can't imagine why...and we're on different time zones...and everyone wants something different at different times and feels completely free to share this at any volume and any hour of the day or night...usually beginning with an arrival from the airport around midnight that involves ringing the doorbell a gillion times...yes it's a number...and screaming, "I'm HERE!!!  STOP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!!"  (That one might be me)


She gets a little quiet by shoving us out the door to the race...after the dance that is packing the coolers...always an entertaining mix of, "You put WHAT on a sandwich?!?!?" "He got his peanut butter on my chocolate," vs "She got her chocolate in my peanut butter," and so on.  Yes, everyone is over 30.  Then the parking...the shuttle to the track...the opening strains of the mullet-hunt...AND...my personal fav???  The religious zealots at the bottom of the footbridge!  They started small...there were just a few...and they just had signs...but they were always there...they had heart!  THEN...they got pamphlets!  Upgrade...sweet!!!  I was so proud!  After a few more years...THEY GOT MEGAPHONES!!!  BATTERY POWERED!!!  It was AWESOME!  But...ummm...people?  Know you're audience!!!  They were bashing people for buying new cars and war!  This is NASCAR, kids...you're barking up the wrong tree!!!  They put on quite a show, tho...and I sure did enjoy it.  But last year...oh, yes...they reconsidered their platform...got MORE donations...and came back...WITH A CAMPER!!!  I could not stop laughing!!!  These people are my opening act for the festivities!  I seriously love them!


Soooo...That's just a little intro for you...since I'll be gone...but I did set up the blog...I THINK...so that I can text to it...I'll do my best to try to keep you up date!!!


XOXO
~CAT



Thursday, June 23, 2011

Through the Looking Glass...part Duh

Are.  You.  Kidding.  Me?!?!?

It is entirely possible that word has gotten around town that I am writing this blog and the locals are auditioning for featured rolls...but I'm thinking it's far more likely that...in case you're not keeping up...let me refresh your memories...I live in the most bizarro town in the world!!!  You can not make this stuff up!  I was driving back from the gym today and stopped at light.  I look over at the driver in the car next to me...hand to God...enormous woman, beater car, filthy, EATING CAKE, off a plate, WITH A FORK!!!  WHAT?!?!?  Are you kidding me?!?!  Is this happening this can not even  be real there is just no way these people are making it this easy oh my God where is my phone and wait what where is she going damn it!!!!  The stupid light changed!!!  If they're going to keep tossing softballs right across the plate, I would be remiss to not keep pointing at the cheap seats, my friends...and you deserve more from me.  (For those who missed it, you probably willingly accept the concept of not living anywhere...unincorporated...please, but for those who missed it...that was a gratuitous Babe Ruth reference)

You've already met my LAM...and he brought me a new Red Bull magazine yesterday...could he be any cuter?  And as I sit and think about all of this...it occurs to me that my adorable, one-legged, Armenian friend is arguably one of the most NORMAL people out here...and he is a complete nutter with cutest little giggle...LOVE HIM!  Which is why I let it slide when he and my 2 physical therapists had a full conversation...IN FRONT OF ME...on my future...IN THE CIRCUS!!!  I'm sorry...what?!?!?  Ummm...ok.  

Did you just call me a carny?!
No!  Carnies are trash...everyone knows that!  Circus folk are way above carnies.
OooooK.
Not even, tho...It should be Cirque du Soleil...you know, because you could have your own act and it's fancier and sparklier and that's more like you.
Right...ok...ummmm....Thanks?  I'm gonna go get a Red Bull...


First...these are ALL MEN!  Second...this is MY LIFE!!!  Third...little tip...when people are laughing at you...be the one laughing the hardest...it's usually true!

You've met...and become well acquainted with CCL.  She wasn't at the gym on Wednesday...as you can imagine...I was crushed.  Enter the crusty old battle axe with the walker!  I assume that by now you realize that this would be someone I would LOVE...cause I do!!!  She is such bad ass!  For being from California, her attitude is remarkably northeastern.  She frequently calls one particular trainer a bitch...she's not wrong...just sayin'...she does not hesitate to tell off any off the therapists when they tell her to do something she doesn't want to do...basically...she's just a joy to be around!  You know what they say, if you don't have anything nice to say, come sit by me...and she does!!!  And then she leans over to my machine and starts to whisper that she's noticed CCL watching me and talking to me quite a bit...naturally I encourage her to go on.  She asked me if I thought CCL was a little crazy!  I AM VALIDATED!!!

Lest you think bizarro is always bad, let's meet someone else, shall we?  We'll call him...gee...I'm sort of at a loss...if nothing comes to me, maybe you all can vote!  Well, he's from here...but as we covered in the small, isolated portion...you can imagine that this wouldn't be the ideal place for gay man to find a mate.  So...he did what any other positively gorgeous gay man would do if they were stuck here in bizarro-land...he packed up and moved to LA!  He had a great job, great friends...was generally fabulous...and the years passed...and his parents, who still lived here, got older...and their health started to fade.  He began coming home more and more often to spend time with them...and eventually he made a decision I don't think most people could have made...he left it all...and he moved back to his parents home to help them.  He found another job...not one he loved the way he had in LA...or that paid as well...but it didn't matter and he gives 110%.  So with work taken care of he reconnected with old friends and got to know some of the people that were new to town.  And with that he set about noticing the things in town that had changed...the things that hadn't...the things that should.  He joined the Chamber of Commerce...he volunteered when he could...he shows up to every single town event.  He completely dedicated himself to making bizzaroville a home of which he could be proud.  And THEN he really got to work.  His mother showed him a small charity she had started.  She called it Holiday Meals and her goal was that every person in town that gets Meals on Wheels should get a real, hot, traditional meal delivered to them each holiday.  He immediately jumped in to help with both feet!  He enlisted all his friends, old and new, to volunteer and help him drum up donations.  He had them invite their friends and families.  It has grown every single holiday since to so large that most of the volunteers only deliver a handful of meals a piece!  You have to consider the size of the town to truly appreciate how much of the town comes together to volunteer to prepare, package, and deliver these meals.  I have never seen anything like it!  It is as if half the town is involved...and Norman Rockwell himself, couldn't paint it better.

I was going to continue on to introduce you to our Mayors...past and present...those scamps...but...I kind of feel like I want to just leave you this for now...because it has been truly beautiful to be a part of and watch grow.

No post tomorrow...it's promotion day!!!  

XOXO
~CAT

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Unicorporated Land...NO...Really...

I'm not going to make excuses, today went all kinds of sideways...and well...I'm going to neglect you...ish.  Through the Looking Glass part DUH would take far more focus than I have right now...especially when you consider SOMEONE seems REALLY interested in my vino and has also just read up on this blog!  I heard him laugh...I'm just not entirely sure if it was AT or WITH... Soooo...ummmm...Cheers?

Stay tuned tomorrow for Through the Looking Glass part DUH...and today we shall cover that pesky little issue of UNINCORPORATED LAND!!!  Who has heard of this concept before?  Raise your hands?  Raise them high so that I can see them! 


Everyone with hands raised?  Sit down and shut up!!! YOU ARE INSANE!!!


Let me explain how this works...


Do I have your attention? 


You in the back...focus!!!


You live in a house.  Are we good so far?  Yes, trailer kid, this includes you...I'm from NJ and the Mt. Laurel Decisions say so...can we move on?  (I'm not into joking about the law, my professor learned this when he challenged me on this decision...so be clear on these Supreme Court Decisions before you think I'm saying something unkind)  


You live in a house.
The house is on a street.
The street is in a town/city/township/etc.
The town is in a county.
The county is in a state.
The state is in a country.
OMG...are we there yet?!?!
Do you get the idea???

I thought this was pretty basic stuff.   Well, well, well...we have bumped...unwittingly...yet again...into something I do not know about our great Nation.  At first, as a newlywed in Florida, I suppose I pretended not to hear the blasphemy...but at some point in Texas...I started to ask questions.  Evidently, the beautiful, brilliant, perfect Yankee who had given up hearth and home to go on this wild ride was asking YET ANOTHER DUMBASS QUESTION when she asked DH where a new friend lived.  


Yes, I heard the directions...but if I were to, say, want to send a piece of mail...what would I put in the city bit?  I know I'm jumping ahead, but 10 years later, and I STILL don't know how to address an envelope to an unicorporated address!!!  Moving on..."Yes dear, but WHERE do they live?"  Again with the blah, blah, blah... Perhaps this is a newlywed communication issue?  I don't read those relationship, self help, whiny books...because, well, I don't hate myself, or my father, nor do I plan to kill myself, or my father...tho he has his moments...but don't worry about him...I'm fair...so is he...Rog and I ALWAYS give each other time to choose a weapon and 10 paces...so I couldn't say for SURE that it was a communication issue...and I really don't care about anyone that would chose to live somewhere that may or may not even exist enough to put a whole lot of effort into it.


10 months in Texas go by and my "where do people live" issues go ignored.  I get more frustrated.  DH thinks I'm an idiot.  SERIOUSLY NEVER HEARD OF SUCH CRAP!!! WHERE DO YOU PEOPLE LIVE!?!


So then we move to South Dakota...and guess what!!!  NO ONE LIVES ANYWHERE!!  


The more we move, the less people seem to live places.  Right, sure, makes perfect sense.  Ok, how did DH get ALL these people to screw with me???  And more importantly, why does he keep getting soooo mad at me when I tell him I have NO IDEA what he's talking about...your bed is in a house on a street in a town...and we covered this...but he gets mad and I'M THE DUMBASS????


FINALLY...not long ago...SOMEONE decides to google this unicorporated land thing.  


Bless you hearts!!!


Well, well, well...would you look at that...there is NO SUCH THING in New Jersey!!!  Why??? PEOPLE WANT TO LIVE THERE!!!
  
As it happens, however, in the rest of the country...not so much!  So they have all this land that nobody wants in their town...so they just...sort of...skip it!   Ta-da!!!  Unincorporated land!!!  Awesome news for when I finally cross "Charismatic Cult Leader" (still up in the air on the cannibalism part) off my Bucket List...but otherwise?  Are you paying attention?  I want to be VERY clear so that there is NO mistaking my opinion of...wait...one more time?  UNINCORPORATED LAND is STUPID!!!  The town you're in just falls off the edge of a map and another town starts 40 miles away and there's NOTHING inbetween?  But as there are those 40 miles you drove to get from A to B, someone could live there, they just don't live anywhere, and this make sense to EVERYONE IN THE COUNTRY EXCEPT PEOPLE FROM NJ AND YOU PEOPLE MAKE FUN OF US?!?!?

This isn't some crunchy, hippie concept...it's not crystals...it's not witchcraft.  You needn't meditate or expand your mind or any of that trash!  This is basic stuff!!!  Underwear is for UNDER your clothes...and you LIVE IN A TOWN!!!



Look...the first Matrix movie?  Not half bad...but at the end of the day?  THERE IS NO SPOON!

XOXO
~CAT



Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Through the Looking Glass... part 1

I live in the most bizarro town in the world!

I know, I know, a lot of you are thinking to yourselves of places you've lived, heard of, or been and think that I must surely be exaggerating...perhaps for sake of humor...or worse...part of a conspiracy to further the East Coast/West Coast-Tupoc/Biggie thing???  Oh no, my friends...no need to exaggerate...I assure you...you'll see!!!

This little town is very, very remote.  It does, however, have three claims to fame.  It is on Route 66 and mentioned in the song.  Some of you might remember it as the town where the McDonald's got shot up back in '97 and among others, a little girl was killed.  Yup, I live there.  It's also famous as the closest municipality to Hinkley.  Doesn't sound familiar?  Trust me, you've heard of it!  It's the name of a tiny bit of unincorporated desert that isn't actually a town...and...you know what, no...check back tomorrow for a post on my feelings about UNINCORPORATED LAND...so, Hinkley, not a town, but this grouping of homes calls itself and Hinkley, and when it requires infrastructure...courts or say, record keeping as it applies to, I don't know, underground water...they rely on my town.  You all already know this, because you saw it in Erin Brockovich!  Yup, I live there.


So, now you have a little bit of backstory about the most bizarro town in the world.  So far, so good, wouldn't you say?  And we're just getting warmed up!!!  I could tell you that it is a small, isolated town and move along, but I don't think that simply by telling you, I could fully convey to you a real sense of what I mean.  If I were to tell you that I was running to Walmart to pick up a few things, what would you picture?  Cleaning supplies, dog bones, candles, extra towels for out of town guests that you really don't want to make a return trip?  What about cereal, condiments, fruits and vegetables, cold cuts?  Well, if you lived here and you wanted to go to Walmart for the first list, you could.  But if you wanted to go for the second list?  It would take you 40 minutes to get there!  Target?  A book store, Hallmark, sporting goods store?  All a 40 minute drive!!!  Let's say you wanted to go out to eat?  We have a Chili's.  It opened about a year or two ago.  What's that you say?  Don't like Chili's?  We have that shoot 'em up McDonalds, DelTaco, and In n Out.  Don't want fast food?  Stay home...or enjoy that 40 minute drive.  


Your 40 to 50 minute drive will get you a few Super Targets, a plethora of chain restaurants...Olive Garden, anyone?  When you're here, you're family...a really sad family of style-challenged bad cooks...and we all think Uncle Joe isn't really over that little problem he has, so keep an eye on the wine!!!  Where was I?  Oh...yes...40-50 mins...Targets, restaurant chains, a Barnes and Noble, a mediocre monogrammer, a few sketchy "day spas," and this place that SWEARS it's a mall...the empty anchor stores and I, however, beg to differ.


Am I the only one that just noticed that this is soooo going to take more than one post???


Ok...so are we starting to get a LITTLE perspective on the small, isolated, remote, creepy thing?  Tres important to fully embrace the bizarro!!!  Just to really nail down the small, isolated thing...I should point out that between here and the Target...THERE IS NOTHING!  There is desert.  Protected turtles and coyotes.  ONE ROAD.  That's it. But lest you think I am boarded by desert nothingness on just the one side...NOT SO FAST.  There's a road that dead end's at an Army base about 45 minutes in another direction...the road only goes from this town to the Post...there is no other way in or out.  Noooo...that surely wouldn't go on the bizarro Top 10 list I am quite likely to write!!!  In the final direction...yes, I know that's only 3 directions, suck it up, it's bizarro world, we don't make the rules here...the next closest place after a small USMC installation that is only sort of there, is about 90 miles.  It's nothing but a freeway off-ramp really, however it features not only fast food...but, as God is my witness, "Fresh Alien Jerky" AND the World's Largest Thermometer!  


This is where I am going to end for today...because let me tell you, my dog just told me that the coyotes are howling that Stephen King just heard about what I've just written about this town and is already packing to move here because he knows a gold mine when he hears about one and he is thinking maybe his New England storylines are a little played out and that hotel from the Shining was really in Colorado anyway and everyone knows that anyway and I totally wouldn't blame him for using this joint as a setting as I totally plan to if I ever quit being lazy and just do it, so back off already Stephen...don't make me cut a bitch!!!  I don't care what you guys say, I can totally pull off saying that...shut up, I can!!!  Ok...fine...maybe I can't...sigh...


Soooo...if you're not scared off yet...more tales from I seriously can't believe I live here...


Ohhhh...and I owe you my feelings on UNINCORPORATED LAND either tomorrow or the next day as well...


XOXO


~CAT

Monday, June 20, 2011

Soooo...here's the thing...

I feel like I owe you an explanation...

I haven't blogged lately...not because I have nothing to say...things have been kind of crazy busy...tho that's REALLY no excuse...it should be more to tell, right?  It's more because I guess, rather than doing something I promised you...and myself...that I wouldn't do...I simply didn't write at all.  I promised I wouldn't self-edit...when you simply don't write at all, you go back and delete or edit...or at least that's what I've been telling myself.  But the more I think about it...as if it's not the most obvious thing ever...not writing all is TOTALLY self editing so who am I trying to kid???

At any right...it's a lousy explanation and I have no excuse...won't happen again.

Where to begin?  I have about a zillion things swimming in my head that I haven't blogged about, even tho I've been dying to but for any number of reasons, felt like I shouldn't...

Ahhhh..so does everyone remember CCL???  Oh wow, when I told you about her the first time...I NEVER thought it could get THIS weird!!!  But it did...and I was going to blog...and then I thought, is that mean?  So I didn't...but I promised not do that...soooo...oh dear!!!  As I'm not sharing her name anyway, how mean could it be...especially when I am merely relaying to you ACTUAL EVENTS and in truth, I can't imagine what to do with her now!

The hair thing was weird, but other than noticing her staring quite a bit, she'd left me alone for a little while.  Evidently, she was just planning her next move.  Last Monday...maybe the Friday before...totally unimportant...CCL decided to up her game!!!  She seems to have learned...maybe thru her SWF support group, that in order to get your target's attention, you should get them where they can't get away.  She has mastered this.  She waits until I am on a machine or in a corner and can't move and don't see her approach!  Damn you Animal Planet!!!

The first day, she decided to ask about issues/illnesses/afflictions/ whatever one chooses to call them that tend to affect my nerve endings and cause extraordinary pain when touchedAs you can imagine, she promptly started poking at all the places she thought might be affected.  I used almost no expletives while I STRONGLY recommended she stop that...NOW!!!

This didn't seem to come across quiet as authoritatively as I'd have liked.  DAMN!  2 days later she found me defenseless on the exercise bike.  She came and apologized for touching me without asking.  I thanked her, put my earbuds back in, and thought we were done.  She continued to stand there...oh good...she wasn't done.  

Before I continue...we all know, to one degree or another, we're just a little nuts!  It may be obsessively wondering if we've left the iron on or locked the garage.  It may be going throwing way more anti-bacterial products as an individual in day or two than some families of 4 use in a week.  We may be afraid of things that go bump in the night...but...you know...there are other kinds of crazy...

And one of those kinds, I was reminded my CCL, as she stood next to the bike waiting to consider out "conversation," is just how exactly lithium-dependent bi-polar she is!!!  Hey...people have problems...I don't judge...no...really...or whatever, you know, because that is definitely NOT the only thing that makes her CCL...but it was DEFINITELY enough to make me nervous when taken in conjunction with all of her other behaviours!!!  I mean...the staring, the touching, the SWF can I have your haircut...and I didn't even mention the shoes yet...and I told you guys I swear when I leave the gym the buzzards are circling because even they know it is just a matter of time before she dumps my body in the desert and leaves more for dead!  

Next thing I know it's a barrage of questions every time I turn around!  What kind of shoes am wearing?  Are they comfortable?  They look interesting...where did I get them?  CAN SHE TOUCH THEM?!?  Am I the only one weirded out here????  Then we've moved onto my clothes...and every. single. thing. I. wear.  Really?  This track suit, those yoga pants...and I can reply to those questions...most of them...without being made to feel terribly uncomfortable.  But now it's hot out and gym clothes are bit different, aren't they?  NO!  You may not touch my tight yoga shorts to "feel the fabric" you lunatic!!!  What part of your body do your yoga shorts cover that you would allow some loon to touch?!?  And then there are my tops...when I wear tees instead of gym shirts, they are more often than not fitted and reflect Husband's job...and are often customized as well.  They are not the sort of tees that one could just go buy, nor can I imagine why most people would want to...I would imagine they would lack meaning to most people...and NO YOU MAY NOT TOUCH THEM EITHER!!!


And because it just can't stop there...she asked for my digits!!!  UGH...might be time to change the phone number!!! LOL


Soooo...aren't you glad I'm back?  NO???  Not quite sure yet what tomorrow will hold...but I have so many things on my mind...who knows!!!  But I have a sneaking suspicion the "labels" will include:  Stephen King, California, Mayor


XOXO

~CAT


 

Monday, June 6, 2011

Sheltered, Spoiled, or Sleeping Beauty...

On a recent trip to San Francisco, I learned, or rather, was reminded, of a couple of things about myself.  You may not care the slightest little bit about these things...but you really should, as I find me positively spellbinding!!! 

First...I can actually SMELL PINK at easily 100 feet!!!  Who knew?  It never occurred to me that pink had a smell tho now that I have smelled it, I'm not surprised...nor am I surprised that since it does have a smell, I'm the one that is able to smell it!  We were walking along Pier 39, filled with tons of people and myriad smells, and there it was.  I stopped dead in my tracks.  I told Husband I smelled pink.  He looked at me a little strangely, but as the poor dear has been married to me for 12 and half years, such things have long since ceased to surprised him.  Instead he gives me more the sort of look one might give a child or favourite elderly relative who needs humouring.  I pretend not to find the look insulting because...well, I'm used to it...and, really...I usually have it coming...and start trying to follow my nose like a cartoon bloodhound to the source of the pink.  Surely this was in no way embarrassing to DH.  And there it was...one of those glowing light from Heaven, choirs of Angels moments...and I beheld...the Smell of Pink.  Cotton Candy!!!  How did I not know this?!?  Didn't I just eat cotton candy in Disney Land?  How have I lived all these years and without this epiphany?!?  Rest assured, I now sleep better at night, that grass is greener, the birds are chirpier, wine is winier...seriously...once you smell pink?  The whole world is brighter.

So that was pretty great.

Not so sure about the other thing of which I may have been reminded...or perhaps fully grasped for the first time.  I think Walt Disney has ruined me.  Disney, and it's movies and Worlds and Lands have coloured...no, tainted...my world view.  I said this the day I got back and a friend commented that we all wish we could be princesses...she is right, of course...but that isn't nearly the tip of this Titanic sinker.  Noooo...I'm talking about the kind of corrupted thinking that permeates every facet of your being...not just the odd tiara or collection of princess trinkets.  Consider this...looking/waiting for Prince Charming?  Normal, healthy amount of Disney influence.  Crying oneself to sleep over the lack of a Fairy Godmother or talking animals?  Unhealthy.  Not that I have done this, specifically, though if you know where I can get either...please let me know.  

No...Disney has altered my perception of reality on a much deeper and more profound level.  It colours my every interaction.  I suppose, if I were one of those deep, thinkie people, it might occur to me that perhaps I am spoiled...perhaps sheltered.  Fortunately, I am not one those people...therefore, this is clearly Disney's fault.  Disney has taught me that people will always give you whatever you want and take pains to make sure things are perfect. Yet, even though I expect them to, in the real world, people do not always bend over backwards to try to make me happy.  Friends and family have been trying to teach me this one for years, but I find if you ignore it, it mostly goes away.  Disney taught me the future would have synthesizers and Micheal Jackson promoted to the 3-dimensional rank of Captain in some strange, silver, army...but I'm leaving those alone.  Just like everyone else, I've seen Jaws, and I know that because of Jaws, loads of people are afraid of sharks.  Not me!!!  Thanks, Walt!  I've been scuba diving with sharks several times in Epcot and they're quite lovely, thank you very much!  Certainly this is not something that would encourage behavior, in my Disney-adled brain, in the wild, that could cause me grievous bodily injury.  

But here's where it all came crashing down...did you know that places in cities called "Chinatown" look abso-freakin-loutely NOTHING like Epcot?!?!?  I was sooo excited to go shopping...I must have looked like a puppy looking out my window as we neared the neighborhood...and then...wait...what the...why is it all dirty?  And it's not pretty and sparkly like in Florida.  And it's just so dirty.  And why isn't anyone smiling?  Seriously...NO ONE!!  Not one smile!!!  But it's Chinatown!!!  I've been there in Epcot a zillion times...it's pretty and clean and EVERYONE SMILES and OMG why is husband slowing down the car?  He doesn't actually think this is where we're going?  This is a joke, right?  The real Chinatown is hiding somewhere and he's just kidding, right?  Ok...joke's over...seriously...not funny anymore...enough already.  And I look at Husband and he looks at me..."You don't want me to park, do you?
"Uh-uh."
"This is isn't what you expected, is it?"
"Uh-uh."
"You thought it was going to be like Disney, didn't you?"
To husband, "Uh-huh."  To myself, "BUSTED!!!"
"You want to go back to the hotel, don't you?"
"Yes, please."

Soooo...thanks Walt!  Seriously!  

Friday, June 3, 2011

These are the people in your (my) neighborhood...

That's right...I went there...I named this post after a song from Mr. Rogers...it's my blog, damn it...and Mr. Rogers rocked!  But before you go thinking it, all those stories about good ol' Fred?  Not true.  As awesome as he was, he was neither a SEAL, nor was he Force RECON.  He wasn't wearing cardis to cover tats...they really were just a fashion statement.  Sorry to burst any bubbles...he's still an icon to me.

But I digress...

Which NEVER happens...

I thought it might be a good time to start to introduce some of the cast of characters that inhabit my world, shape my life, or may simply pop up in my blog for comic relief.  I have chosen to dedicated this first installment...to Mr. Fred Rogers...because I can.

I suppose I should start with Husband...Husband, DH, J...you get the picture...he is my lobster...that's all you really need to know.

Next...Today, there was Crazy Creeper Lady, henceforth known as CCL...I appreciate that you want to be my friend, CCL, and yes, I can happily recommend my stylist, but, what's that you say?  Because you want the same hairstyle as me?  That's...ummmm...not at all SWF and completely freaking me out and OMG this is a really small really isolated town in the middle of the desert the desert where people bury bodies well sometimes they bury them and OMG I am so far beyond the capacity to punctuate and sometimes they dont even bury them they leave them for the coyotes and the birds you know the birds what are those brids that circle around when youre dying in the desert and wait for you to be dead except id already be dead and then they come and peck at your eyes and rip off your arm and fly away with it and then your body parts are scattered across like four states and they cant even find all of you to bury or turn into a diamond which would be cool but it wont matter because they wont be able to find me because what the coyotes dont get will be bird poo on the strip in las vegas and oh dear i think i might have some pretty serious nightmares tonight or maybe i just really need a xanax or a cocktail that could be it

But I digress...

There is IBS...you'll hear a lot about her...she is my constant source of inspiration.  I have known her for more years than I care to admit and I will know her for at least that many more!!!

My friend A.  She owns the best salon in town and does my hair and waxing and I positively adore her.  Oh hell...do I overuse adore?  Might be thesaurus time...but not tonight.  At any rate, she is fantastic, a spoonie, and is going to KILL me when CCL shows up!!!  Did I mention kill?  Do we need to recap the desert thing?  Also, I plan to be buried with Husband in Arlington so the diamond thing is out...however, I really dig the dead person into diamond plan and Mother isn't convinced, so feel free to will yourselves into a diamond for me.  I'll wear you anywhere you want to go...bonus...you'll end up buried in Arlington.  

That may sound goulish to some of you but provides a lovely segue to Kiki, my baby sister...who is 7 years younger and about a foot taller...and thinks it's funny to rest her elbow on top of my head...because she can.  I'm the second youngest.  Of two.  We have been splitting up Mother's stuff...LOUDLY...in front of Mother...as long as I can remember.  We continue to split up all of her new acquisitions....again...in front of her...and have been know to slide phrases like "check your brakes" into conversation if we feel like like she is spending too much of our inheritance.  Kiki will likely comment on this and try to convince you that those comments come mostly from me...but I ask you, if that were the case, would I write this?


Moving on...

Oh, cute little, old, one-legged, Armenian man!  I shall call him my LAM.  He is at my gym and says the funniest things and I positively adore him even tho he exposed me to shingles.  He was waiting to congratulate me the day after Bin Laden was killed, how cute is that?  Every time Sugar Free Red Bull goes on sale he saves the ad and brings it to me...then he reminds me if the last sale was better and I should wait to stock up...he started keeping track of Red Bull's drivers in all different motor sports, even tho I don't follow them all...and today, which is what inspired me to write this...he found a Red Bull magazine and brought it to me!  Could you die?!?  Here is this man, I interact with him 2 or 3 times a week for perhaps an hour at a time, and a simple smile and an ear to listen to his stories...he lost his wife a little over a year ago and they have no children...makes such an impact on him that he notices that every morning I come in toting a SFRB and goes out of his way to make that connection and how sweet is that and could you just die but in a totally sweet really good way?  Check it out...I found my way back to punctuation. 


I would like some more wine and I think that is all I feel like writing tonight...


Cheers and red Loubs!!!


XOXO
~CAT