Much Like The Unenjoyment Office...

The Social Insecurity Office is a nightmare!! In the third of four steps needed to relinquish my 1st married name and grab a tight hold of my 2nd married name, I had to brave this quest (foolishly) on a Friday afternoon thinking, ha ha, that it wouldn't be that full.

Guh.

When we were "seasonally unemployed" back in the ballet days, my husband and I used to play the Unenjoyment Office game when we went to apply every summer. Much like Spot the Toupee that my girlfriends and I play at concerts, the Unenjoyment Game consisted of spotting the Lesbian Couple, the Angry Black Woman, the Haggard "I Can't Hear You're Nagging Anymore" WASPy husband and wife couple, the Stripper/Hooker and the Poor Soul Who Doesn't Speak English and Therefore is Never in the Right Line. We found all of them almost every single time.

Guess what? They aren't just in California. They're in Florida too, livin' large. Here, Lesbian Couple were pissed that they had to wait so long, Angry Black Woman was behind me and had no concept about Personal Space. I swear, if she huffed and muttered down my neck one more time I was about to go Jerry Springer on her ass. At one point, she had her elbow and entire forearm ahead of me in line while she leaned on the stanchion post. I wish I had my camera with me because I could have shared a great shot of my new passport with teeth marks in it. Pretty sure WASPy couple came from Boca and maybe even followed me from Oakland... Stripper/Hooker had the biggest schmeebs I think I have ever seen in real life (and they were being only just harnessed by a green crisscross bathing suit under her bedazzled two sizes too small jeans) and Poor Soul had still not been helped by the time I left with the promise that I would have a new card in two weeks.

An aside: Previous stories about my 4-year-old nephew have graced this blog - many of them having a religious theme. He goes to a Christian Pre-school - his parents are decidedly not, but they like the atmosphere and the educational care.

Today after school:

K: Mommy, can I see your bracelet that Auntie Lollie gave you for being a bridesmaid at her wedding?
E: Sure sweetheart (removes silver cuff bracelet from arm and hands to small child)
K: Mommy look at me! (shoving the bracelet onto his bicep)
E: Hey! You look like a Super Hero!
K: No Mama, I look like a Philistine!

My brother and E continue to be horrified...

Frustrado

I think My Guy is having a bad week...apparently, he has been manhandling his face a bit. Not sure if it is me (I've been nagging a lot lately) or work. This was the message that I received from him this morning:

Running my hands over my forehead and feel a bump on one of my eyebrows and I’m thinking “holy cow have I got food in my eyebrow?” I manage to get my fingers on the offending eyebrow hair and try to scrape this food particle off it thinking “god I’m a slob”.

No go.

So I just yank the hair out (ouch) and take a look at it – nope, not food, my eyebrow got so long and I’d been running my hands over my face so much that the eyebrow KNOTTED. That’s right, I’m fucking KNITTING WITH MY EYEBROWS.

At least he's not this guy. (Warning: this may make you want to vomit, especially if you are a guy.) (2nd Warning: You probably shouldn't open this if you are at work. Nakedness is about to ensue.)

A Couple Things

1) Ray has a friend who described something very funny the other day. Conferences = nights of entertaining which basically mean heavy drinking + steak houses. Lots of steak + lots of martinis = The Meat Sweats. The Meat Sweats! I love it.

2) The Good Thing: I had to go home early from work yesterday. Yay! The Bad Thing: I had to go home from work early yesterday because my youngest nephew peed all over my T-shirt and new jeans. Not so yay.

3) An old man tried to kill me this morning by turning left onto my one way road and heading straight for me. He must've been in an Early Bird Breakfast Coma because he didn't realize it until I laid on my horn and scared the Bejeez out of him. He then proceeded to do a U-turn and cut everyone behind me off as well. Good Morning Grandpa!

4) Book Club last night. We were reading A Thousand Splendid Suns - a hard book to read as a woman, but it generated a lot of good discussion. There was talk about combining the monthly book meeting with scrapbooking. Not sure how excited I am about this...The next book is The Best of Friends.

Viva La Bam

Emeril is not my favourite guy on the Food Network (truth be told, I actually turn the channel when I see him and his band). However, this cat knows how to run a restaurant and his New Orleans style chow is so so so good.

I started with a potable de perfection in a martini glass: Emeril's Oasis. Van Gogh coconut vodka mixed with pineapple and mango vodkas and a splash of mango nectar. An orchid was swimming in the mix. Sweet Phalenopsis it's tasty. The amuse was a gorgeous little morsel of smoked salmon laying on a tiny pillow of asparagus soup, topped with cucumber yogurt and micro greens. My starter was an oyster salad (deep fried oysters with salty greens and a cucumber relish), and for my entree I had the seared Yellowfin Tuna with fingerling potatoes. Hey, I'd eat stir-fried thumbs if they came with fingerling potatoes.

I have to go and pay some long needed attention to my poor cat. She has been passed off like Oliver and Little Orphan Annie this past week.

Cuddle Monkey at the ready. And...launch.

Quick Update

So far, all is good. Great hotel, lovely room (once it was ready...boo hoo us, we were forced to go out back by the pool and eat ceviche from a martini glass until we could get the room at 4:00). Now I am lounging in the room watching crap on the boob. (My Super Sweet Sixteen Highlight Reel and a marathon of Charm School. I'm actually listening to my brain liquefy right now.) I might interject here that my sweet sixteen (purposely written in lower case) sucked bag. My mom forgot my birthday completely until I "reminded" her that night. By reminded, I mean slamming my door and crying all night.

Some Things I Have Never Seen Before:

1) There is a massive selection of gay, bi, and trannie porn on the movie listing in this room. One of the flicks is described as follows:
AC/DC Orgy a non-stop orgy of bi-sexual guys who love to screw guys and to screw girls. Four guys and girls who really know how to mix it up.

Umm - is this new to anyone else, or is the whole bi porn in the hotel adult entertainment menu old hat? Have I been living under a rock? I just need to know.

2) A dude with dreads down to the pavement. Seriously, this is an example of what would happen if Bob Marley and Crystal Gayle mated. How long could this have taken to grow knotty locks down to the floor? The guy didn't even look old enough to have hair that long.

Back with more later - off to the Rose Bar in The Delano for drinks before Emeril's!

Miami Redux

Surprise, we're going to Miami tonight! My Guy has another conference so we are going to head out to South Beach for a lovely evening in a different hotel (thank you, fortuitous stars!). The National, I'm told, is lovely. Hopefully we'll have none of that nastiness that was The Marseilles from last time. Looking forward to a clean lobby where they can find our reservation, a clean room where I don't mind sitting on the furniture without a towel, an air conditioning unit that has actual numbers on it - not just a knob on the wall, a pool that is not full of Cha-Cha bitches who want to scream in the hallway at 4 in the morning and a back bar that is not pumping foulness that they were passing off as appropriate public music (earmuffs, children, earmuffs!!!).

Not sure where we are going for dinner, but I'm hoping it involves plantains. I'm in a Cuban State of Mind.

Back to work in the morning, so I will be hitting the freeway at the wee hours. I'm off to pack my ditty-bag! Ciao Bellas!

Behind The Eight Ball

Found it...

8) I worked one time as a "model" in San Francisco in the early 90's at the downtown Chanel Salon for an Oakland Ballet fund raising gig. It was very cool to have the makeup artist do my Chanel face Kewpie-doll style and wear drop dead gorgeous Chanel clothing. Worker Mommy only went to 7 so I only included Whiskey's side of life for number 8.

That is all.

Actually, that is not all.

What's worse than coming home tired from a 5 day trip at 10 pm after a 7 hour plane ride and finding a pile of dog shit on your driveway? Waking up in the morning to hose it off only to find that a wad a pink chewing gum has come to keep it company. WTF?!! When did our front yard become the New Jersey dump?

Dear Neighbours,

My husband says that if he catches you spitting out your gum or sees your dog spitting out his poo on our driveway again, he will go Robocop On Your Ass and snap your neck (and your little dog too). I happen to like my life and I really want to decorate our Brooklyn apartment. Do not make me scrabble for bail trying to get him out of the pokey.

Mixed Messages

Worker Mommy and WhiskeyMarie, my two favourite WMs both got separately tagged and in one form or another, consequently tagged me. I'm going to take their answers and give a version of my own in their themes.
1) Back when I was dancing for a living, I saw a program on PBS called form the Farm to the Table (or something along those lines). I was perfectly horrified to see how animals were being treated through the process of ending up in the grocery store so I immediately gave up meat and stayed that way for a year. Until I saw the doctor who was wondering why my recent knee surgery was taking so long to heal. He looked into my eyes and saw that my rims were almost perfectly white. "Anemia. Eat some meat young lady, or your career will suffer." 'Nuff said. Back to the meat...however, to this day I still refuse to eat veal and goose liver. This, BTW, was back 20 pounds ago when my boobies were much too small to have even an iota of movement, whether I was pogo sticking up the stairs or doing the regular style climbing. I still don't have much to hold, but there is a nice handful there during the Swollen Days - ladies, you know when I mean.

2) I love punctuation and made it a pre-requisite when I was selecting "suitors" from match.com (where I met My Guy). He could spell, punctuate and convey a coherent thought, a skill that seemed to escape about 85% of the ManBoys out there. I love to type and punctuate to gay dance music which I listen to on the Internet during office hours (when I'm alone). There is truly nothing better than streaming gay dance music while you enter droll geosynthetic values into a database.

3) I was never voted Most Expressive/Creative in High School or any other place, however, in my estimation, I'm pretty creative. Other things that get me through my workday other than gay dance music (see above) are the times when I get to do really fun things with graphics or tinker on the Bridal site I manage. I like my job (mostly because it helps my parents - its their business - and I am helping the environment in a small way) but I love my job when I can create beautiful or interesting things. ps - I'd be outta there in a New York Minute if I won the lottery.

4) SmallTalkLollie and ChopTalkLollie both live in my head and I never know which one is going to emerge until I open my mouth. Yesterday at the Bris, CTL fell out. I was trying to talk to the hostess, my cousin's husband's Dad's girlfriend and it was just a pathetic display. I also had horrible diarrhea pains so no cogs, brain or digestive, inside my body were working properly. I would have been much better off holed up alone in the hotel room watching a talent-based reality show such as Top Chef, Project Runway or Top Design. I have zero shame about being addicted to these shows. I will even avoid very important phone calls to watch them uninterrupted.

5) I, too, have been on only one blind date in my life. It was with the butcher's son (Mom worked there briefly). Zero chemistry, at least on my part. He was all excited about taking me to Red Lobster in West Palm Beach. If he had proposed the Monster Truck Jam I think we could have saved everybody involved a little heartache as it would have come to a screeching halt right then. During dinner, we had nothing to talk about except Stephen King novels. The date ended badly with a lame walk on the tar covered beach and him trying to slip and arm around me on his crappy porch couch and kiss me while I was busy trying to remove the gunk from the bottom of my feet with a cotton ball full of baby oil. I ducked and ran and never returned (and also have never been back to a Red Lobster). Come to think of it, Mom stopped working there shortly thereafter, but I don't think it had anything to do with me...

6) As I as I am wont to do when I search for coffee in the am, I tried to smile at a few people here while I was walking down Robson Street in Van this morning...didn't turn out so well. Is it the city atmosphere? I don't know. People seemed a lot friendlier when I lived here in The Great White North where I often went cross country skiing and downhill skied once getting the most horrible reflective sunburn I've ever had in my life. It made my nose and neck peel very badly.

7) My favourite number is 13, we have it all over our lives in our clan. Lots of people have died, been born, been married, etc. on a 13. It is a magical number for me - I even won the one and only time I ever gambled in Vegas. I walked up to the roulette table, laid down a buck on thirteen and won a 35 to 1 bet. The dealer was astounded when I collected my $35 clams and walked away. Don't think I haven't kicked myself in the ass multiple times for not betting more. I am also convinced it will be a part of my future winning lottery ticket. And it is approximately the number of times I have done illicit drugs which were fun at the time (first try at the age of 28), but haven't touched for years (and probably won't again).

8) I seem to have lost number 8 but I will fish it out of my laptop tonight at home.

More Things I Have Never Seen Before

Some of these are pre-trip, some are as recent as this morning getting coffee at 6:40 in Vancouver (ahh, jet lag).

• A van with the back window cut out to fit an apartment air conditioning unit
• A middle-aged man who really should have known better than to constawaddy the nine people behind him in an airport security line (post screening) to tie not one but both of his fucking Topsiders. We were all jammed up and collecting like the chocolates in that I Love Lucy episode.
• A regular old, white, Toyota Corolla driving next to us as we taxied in the plane. No logos, no purpose...just a regular sedan on the tarmac.
• A cracked fender exposing half of the sturdy underpinnings of the car, meaning...Styrofoam. Umm, yeah, are the doors on this particular make and model made of spit and Kleenex?
• A Port-A-Potty being hauled up by a crane to the top of a new building under construction. I guess if you gotta go up there, you gotta go.
• Stanley Park and its raccoons. Not sure if the whole "aren't we cute" act was to lure you in for the rabid throat kill. We gave them a wide berth.

And...

Note to Self:
Never again have a Tequila Sour the evening after a long flight where you drink no water Mrs Dehydrated Head.

A one drink hangover headache is seriously embarrassing. We all know you can do much better.

No Slice and Dice

I'm quite relieved to report that there will be no side of Screaming with today's order of Naming Ceremony. Ray, Mom and I are in Vancouver (arrived yesterday with a refreshingly short jaunt through customs - Three Hour Nightmare last trip, Fifteen Minute Pleasure Cruise this time). Although our bag got completely destroyed, everything went smoothly.

So yeah, babies are as cute as buttons, Nathaniel (Nate the quiet patient one) and Jeremiah (Remy the mischievous monkey). They are a little underweight, as twins are wont to be, so the Mohel wants to wait a little before he has to put their teeny tiny bodies through surgery. Mom is relieved. I am consequently also relieved as we were asked yesterday to be the Kvatter and Kvatterin (Godparents) for the ceremony. This is really a terrific honour for Ray and I, especially because we are not Jewish. This means Ray and I are responsible for transporting the babies from Mom to Dad to Mohel. I take the children from Sarah and hand them to Ray who hands them to Todd who then would, if there was going to be a circumcision, hand them to the Mohel. Kind of like baby Rugby. Even though we are really thrilled to have this job, I'm pretty relieved in that we don't have to be a part of the pain (before arriving, I was secretly fascinated that there was going to be surgery in an apartment - but I'm actually glad that we can all just be happy through the naming ceremony without the wails and winces).

This all happens at 5:30 tonight. Lots of (but not all) family will be there. Should be a pretty interesting night. I will take notes and report to duty later. I think we are going for a walk in Stanley Park now. Ray is pissed that he'll be in Canada for July 4th, but not as pissed that he is missing the Transformers opening!! I'll have to make it up to him with a sparkler in a flag cake when we get home.

No Bloodshed, No Tears

We're back on track baby - and I didn't even have to risk the clink. It was down to the wire (literally...I had my piano murder-wire ready to go) but a simple refresh gave me my screen back, ready to blog and be blogged.

Had a great time last night at S and E's house. The food was really yummy (except for the Super Fire Hot Queso Dip - my brother has a heavy hand with the Black Widow sauce). For the sleepover portion, we stayed next door at J & G's house while they are on vacation in Niagara Falls. Well, not really in the falls, but you know what I mean. J and G are total neat freaks - their house looks like a showroom, not a thing out of place. In fact, I think J has a touch of the OCD. So to eff with him, Ray and I planned to unwrap a few rubbers and toss the wrappers on his pillow and in the bathroom. I was going to lick his bathroom mirror and change his socks and underwear drawer. We abandoned the plan when we considered that they were going to be returning from a three week long driving trip. He could already be suicidal when he returns...that and he has 6- and 3-year-old girls. You never know who's going to find what where.

An aside - I need this number to refer to, but I'm too lazy to store it anywhere else W6374. Dear Hackers and general Nosy Nellys , this is not a password of any kind... ps - suck it. And you too Bell South - don't get too big for your britches...your not quite in my good graces yet.

And how about being woken by the doorbell and a 4-year-old in Spiderman Jays at 7:04 am? It's fantastic. He wanted to play chase at 7:06 am. So what could I do? I chased. In my Free Jahveri t-shirt and nary another thing...I held the edges down and ran slowly. Then we went back to their house and swam in the pool for an hour and after that we ate blueberry pancakes and turkey bacon. Dear Turkey Bacon, you are not real bacon but I like you just fine today.

I spent the rest of the day at home making Pops a new company website only to be interrupted by a burrito run in the rain at about 2:00. Dear Chipotle, you are my new favourite restaurant. Don't change anything on the menu...I want the shredded pork and roasted red peppers next time.

Ray is getting cabin fever and has jumped in the shower. I feel a cocktail coming on at our favourite bar in about 45 minutes. So I'm going to retire to the Master Bath to see if I can get lucky before we run out for drinks and dinner!

Good to be back!

Bell South Must Die

I'm having a serious Internet problem at the house. It's not there and hasn't been since Saturday. They've mistakenly turned off our service twice now and someone needs to die. Hopefully we will have it back soon and I can get back to my comfortable rhythm of posting on my couch at night. They said 24 to 48 hours...it's been 36. Til it returns though, I can only steal moments at work to comment quickly on your blogs.

Sorry!

Failure to Launch

Okay, so I got sucked into Anthony Bourdain's show last night (there were three in a row and I watched them all). This prevented me from getting my Lazy A off the couch and opening my laptop. Just lately, I've been feeling like I've been hit very hard with the tired stick...not sure what that is about. We're trying to Get In Shape starting this week. Smaller portions, no alcohol on the weekdays (ugh - but Friday night is considered the weekend!), and bubbly water instead of soda. We are also trying to work out every day. So, I shouldn't be tired, right? But I am.

I've decided to wait on the weekend roundup and dive right into the Things I've Never Seen Before List.

1) A refrigerator tied upright in the back of a dilapidated truck doing 85 on the freeway with the freezer door open and flapping/whacking in the wind. Needless to say, we changed lanes.

2) A 25-ish bleached blonde mother of four leaving a Miami hotel at 8 o'clock in the morning with her fabulous looking husband/boyfriend wearing, I shit you not, these shoes.

Management Post Script:
WM pointed out, rather hilariously, but completely understandably, that it sounded like the husband was wearing the shoes. Not so...but dammit, it would have been funnier that way.

3) An anhinga walking out like a high wire artist on a tree branch. (If you've never seen an anhinga before, they are fairly large - I don't think they belong in trees.) I thought it was a cat that was going to need rescue from the fire department, but then I watched it jump to the ground, flapping it's wings futilely, much like the freezer door on I-95.

4) This really belongs on a Things I Have Never Heard Before list, but Ray and I went out to the pool area of the crappy hotel in Miami and were assaulted by this absolutely filthy rap music. Now, Mama ain't no prude by any means, but I was totally offended that I was listening to Gonna f_ck tonight, yeah somebody gonna get f_cked tonight, all you Motherf_ckers get out tonight, cause playas gonna f_ck tonight.

WHAT?

When did this become acceptable out of the confines of your beat up Caddy or the privacy of your strip club?! That is a family pool area Marseilles Hotel! Turn that shit off!

Miami or Bust

Ummm.

I'll take Bust for 200 Alex.

The hotel sucked rocks. I'll elaborate when I have my Internet connection again - I'm at work right now and I'll be "composing" at home tonight - but posting at work tomorrow.

Dear Bell South,

You suck rocks too.

The meal, however, was divine, so the trip was worth it. A list coming with the post tomorrow: Things I Have Never Seen Before...

H - Thanks For The Smack On The Ass

Hi All,

I was admonished by H today - and I deserved it. I've been neglecting my blog since Monday and I hate, hate it when I visit my regulars and they haven't written anything new for me to be entertained by. I mean, it's all about entertaining me, right?! SO sorry - I apologize.

It was really due to a mixture of leaving my laptop at work, our phone getting cut off (a long and very uninteresting story) hence no Internet connectivity and taking a full day off to babysit my youngest nephew. But I'm back now and I have News.

We got the apartment in Brooklyn!!

I'm so excited to have a new pro-jhay. Though decorating a fully furnished apartment is going to be a challenge. But I can't wait for August. I Googled mapped it in satellite and it looks like a charming neighbourhood...a Brownstone on a tree lined street across from a College. Close to two parks. We'll spend 7 to 10 days a month there (maybe with the Manky Cat - that should be a good post the first time we put her on a plane...).

Everyone can visit!

I'm off to South Beach tonight. My guy surprised me with a call yesterday.

Him: "I'm getting ready to pull the trigger on a jacuzzi suite in Miami for 94 bucks on Expedia...should I do it?"

Me: "We should be saving money - we have to go to Vancouver for the bris in July and we've got the Gran Canaria trip to consider in October."

Him: "The accommodation is free in Gran Canaria and both trips are free on Sky Miles and I'm bored and want to eat at Emeril's."

Me: "Well in that case, OK."

Him: "Good, because I booked it already. Pick me up at 2:30 tomorrow...we eat at 7:00."

YAY!

ps - So You Think You Can Dance yesterday was phenomenal. Cedric is sick and the Blondie chick is a turning machine. Glad they got saved.

New York Dreams

So me and my guy are thinking of renting a sublet apartment in Brooklyn. It's 1550 a month for a furnished 650 square feet. We'd spend 3 weeks in FL and 1 week in NY...kind of reverse Snowbirds. I've always wanted to live in NY - and I thought it would never happen once I got a stable dancing job in CA (the Manhattan Dancing Dream definitely died when I retired a few years ago). But now I can enjoy the city pain free (if you don't count losing 20 bucks as soon as you set foot outside - trains, water, cabs, lunch, etc.).

I don't know. Is this a good deal or am I getting duped? I actually don't care - I really would like to do it. I'm ready for a bit of a change.

It's either change scenery for a hot minute or redesign the house, chop off my hair and let all my friends go for new exciting ones who will eff me over eventually.

Sometimes, It Ain't Alright To Be So White

Let me start by saying that this ended very well. She went for her first mammo since the diagnosis, and she was nervous, so I went with. We got a double thumbs up from the nurse and a thumbs down on needing a further ultrasound. Whoo-rah. You rock lady and I love ya.

But about being white.

I accompanied to the back of the exam rooms. She changed into my exact opposite from a previous post - she had way too much on the bottom and nothing on top but a breezy, man-closing (left over right) crossover hospital gown. I waited in the short-term waiting room and it was the size of my walk-in closet. Seriously, six chairs were nut to butt, ass to tea kettle. There were four of us, me, and three older, gentle ladies of the Caucasian persuasion. Quiet as church mice were we. Politely sitting two inches away from each other and pretending we were alone (except for the small smiles as we entered and sat, hands on laps, ankles crossed). Then a gorgeous black woman of about 60 sat down and said good morning to every one of us. Not two seconds later another stunning black woman of about 40 came in the room and filled it to the brim, Literally. With her energy.

The two ladies started to chat a little and within a minute and a half we had their entire stories of breast cancer, doctors, uteral (sp?) cancer, ages, church groups, parents, children, back aches pains, jokes, food, jobs, the Lord, get a PET scan, doctors are just people they can mess up too, I know that's right, you don't need to tell me twice girl, okay...O-Kay!??! I joined in with a comment here and there and by the time the ladies left the room, even the uptight, white and outta sights were tittering away. The moment they were gone the chatter in the room dwindled and then completely disappeared within seconds.

I have experienced the same phenomenon with old Jewish ladies and very small children. What happens to we WASPy types when we grow up? Why do we clam up? I want to be in a room filled with 4-year-olds and old Jewish black women and see if my heads explodes with glee.

Whew

Thanks to Sarah for her joke - that was actually pretty funny.

And thanks all - I'm having a better day today. At least I'm deciding to. I had a hell of a time on the phone this morning with Passport Canada (all of whom I think should be restrained in duct tape and beaten abut the head with a tube sock filled with poutine cheese curd for those of you who do not know any French Canadians). Idiots, all of them. How can one person tell me my passport has been mailed and here's your tracking number (which is wrong ps, DHL says the number is from last July and was delivered to Mr. Andrews in Maine signed sealed deliverd thank you very much), and then the very next agent tells me that my application has been "opened" but not "processed" and "no you can't speak to a Supervisor or another agent because I am actually retarded."

I.
Hate.
Government.
Lackeys.

It was a conscious decision to put on a cute skirt that I just hemmed last night, a tiny sweater, make up and a hair accessory just to make myself feel better about my day. Girlie = feelgood for me today. Meh.

Passport Canada can suck it - you're not going to ruin my day.

Say Something Funny

Crap day.

I need cheering up...anyone have a joke or two?

Crop A Palooza

I am done. Done with chicks and their estrogen, scissor blisters and glue in my hair, as well as carb-heavy lunch buffets.

Actually , it wasn't all that bad. Truth be told, I kind of had a good time. This totally appealed to my artsy craftsy side. My ass and back were killing me last night at about hour 10 (there were 36 uninterrupted hours of Scrapbooking Bliss to be had - vomit - seriously, some ladies stayed up all night and "cropped"). E's Auntie Laura started both days by saying, "I'm so excited I'm sweating!"

This was the scene:



Several "Paloozas" happened in that 36 hours.

There was:

Ginch A Palooza
It was 8:00 am...too early to check in to the hotel, so I had my overnight rollie with me (full of paper and glue and scissors and crap a palooza, so what's the first thing that goes flying out of my suitcase as soon as I open it? My green thong. Went over real well with the surrounding old ladies who were welcoming me into the fold. They looked at my thong twisted up on the green and bright blue carpet and back to me like, "Are we sure we want her sort here?"

Snicker Palooza
I set up, walked to the can for the last pee before I Got Busy, and was met on the walk back by a very haughty I'm So Important Business Lady in a Navy Blue Double Breasted Suit who looked at me like I was on her side when she rolled her eyes at the sign reading that Crop A Palooza was in the Emerald Suite. "Crop A Palooza" she muttered, eyeing me, "Phhhtttt, tsk." Good start to the weekend. I'm already being mocked.

Dram A Palooza
L couldn't come to the whole weekend, but she showed up to say hi. Or rather, she showed up to say hi to everyone but G. G and L had a fight that morning - a long coming, pent up emotions kind of talkin' to fight. G's feelings were hurt. G cried. E consoled. An hour of cropping was lost.

Strip A Palooza
The highlight for me was when Auntie Laura was telling a story at the 1st day's lunch break. It involved her son and his wife, who had come over to have lunch with the visiting "mother" of one of the 85 foster children Auntie Laura has had through her home (I'm not exaggerating that number, seriously). Anyway, she was telling us how that crack mama can't sit still and how she always crawls around, literally, inside her clothes. Auntie Laura proceeds to act out how this mother was behaving by inserting her hand, then elbow, then forearm into her stretchy aqua blue tank top. At one point she totally flashed the entire lunch patio her boobs, concealed in a big white bra, and was laughing away at how her son, at the time, was trying not to look at the crack mama - who was sans big white bra. It was a hoot. She's a great story teller and "doesn't give a whip" (one of her expressions) who sees her underwear.

All in all it really was a good time and I'd probably do it again...but only if the chair massage lady comes back and rescues me around hour 10. If she isn't planning to come, I'm going to go Custom, like some of the ladies there. They brought their own friggin' office chairs complete with cup holder for the table. Only my Custom Accessory won't be a stupid chair - it will be my own masseuse.

A Letter from Mother Nature

Dear Lollie:

You got presents yesterday. I saw you receive a lovely shell bracelet from E after her return from Cancun. If you push it up from your wrist to around the skinny part of your bicep, you could look really cool and all Thunderdome. Try it...I think you'll like it.

You also got stuff from Italy upon your parents return from Venice. Lovely sweaters and such. Aren't you a lucky girl.

I thought I would pitch in as well. I know you've been wanting a baby for a while, but I'm giving you your period instead. Have fun with that.

Love and Kisses,

Mama N.

Tag I'm It

Thanks to Whiskeymarie, I'm ready to bare my soul.

INSTRUCTIONS: Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so.

1) Bun in the Oven
2) You da Mom
3) Worker Mommy
4) Whiskeymarie
5) Lollie

Next, select five people to tag:
sassmaster, mips, kat, superbee and random mindless ramblings
(Do it if you want. Don't if you don't. No pressure.)

What were you doing 10 years ago?

I was breaking out of the Corps de Ballet and showing my boss that could actually dance without having 15 other chicks shadowing me. I was watching my older brother getting married and contemplating my own marriage a la Should I Stay or Should I Go Now? I was thinking maybe there is more to life than this dance company and should I start thinking about getting a real education so I can support myself when this all over.

What were you doing 1 year ago?

I was getting remarried to the best guy ever. The one who makes me laugh hysterically every day before 9 am. I was heavily believing that I didn't want children. (ha!)

Five snacks you enjoy:

First I'd like to say that I enjoy the word "snacks." It's a snappy, happy little word. Snacks!
1) Tuna and salsa on wheat thins.
2) Lyle's Golden Syrup layered on top of thickly spread butter on white bread.
3) Peanut butter and celery (not oft made but always loved).
4) Cake
5) Tea and toast

Five songs that you know all the lyrics to:

1) Crazy (Patsy Cline)
2) Green Eyes (Coldplay)
3) Please Forgive Me (David Grey)
4) Take Me Out (Franz Ferdinand)
5) Wonderful Tonight (Eric Clapton)

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:

Like Whiskeymarie - I need more than a mil to fulfill this one. I need to be rolling in stupid cash.
1) Pay off the family houses (Mom n Dad, S &E, L&J - oh, and ours).
2) Buy a Manhattan apartment for Ray.
3) Pay back my Aunt the money she lent/gave away to help us in the 70s (or was it the 80s?).
4) Fund some ballet companies.
5) Make Frank go away...

Five bad habits:

1) I'm kind of an impatient bossy pants, if I ask you to do something can you do it right now and if you don't I'll go ahead and do it.
2) I leave my worn weekday clothes on my closet floor and then have to do a severe laundry sort out every Saturday. Yes, there is sniffing involved.
3) I. Love. To. Pick. Zits.
4) Don't tell him, but I use my husband's comb to clean out my hairbrush. Shhh.
5) I procrastinate.

Five things you like doing:

1) Painting (house painting and watercolour)
2) Making people laugh
3) Crosswords
4) Getting my Dad to say he's proud of me
5) Blogging

Five things you would never wear again:

1) White splay-heeled go-go boots
2) Baby blue eyeshadow
3) My first wedding ring (not because of bad memories or bitterness, it would just feel really weird)
4) Pointe shoes (at least dancing properly in them - I might slip them on for old times sake, then scream and wonder what the hell I was thinking)
5) Unless I can reach the impossible and get a hard ass again, a thong bathing suit.

Five favorite toys:

1) Scrabble
2) Operation
3) Paper dolls
4) The Mank's catnip frog. I just crack up watching her be cracked up.
5) All the "stuff" in my bedside drawer

Shriek

I have always had a Law & Order fear that I am going to be out walking in a park one day and stumble over a dead body in the bushes. Or that I am going to walk back to my hotel in the city and see a bloody foot sticking out of an alley. Or that I am going to one day, late at night after work on a Friday, open the lid to the office building's shoulder-height, parking lot garbage dumpster and see a greenish, horribly bloated face staring back at me.

Well, tonight it HAPPENED!!

After feeling all the blood drain out of my body and pool in my ankles leaving me light-headed and ready to vomit, I realized that it was the head of a surprised Shrek looking comically back at me from a full McDonald's "to-go" bag.

Fuck you McDonald's - I want those two years you just shaved off my life back.

Grrrr

They didn't need a full bladder.

I'll say it again. THEY DIDN'T NEED A FULL BLADDER! I sat in the waiting room for 45 minutes in agony, until I couldn't take it anymore. I asked the nurse behind the counter approximately how long the ultrasound list (I was 6th) was going to take. "She's really behind today."

Hmm.

"Where's the bathroom?"

So I unloaded - and it took forever. I literally peed like a racehorse. And then I drank like one (do horses drink a lot? Maybe after a race...). I had my bottle of Fiji. I drained the bottle of Fiji.
An aside: Though I don't like water, I do adore me a Fiji bottle. The squareness is so chic.

So started the cycle again. Why is it that the second filling of the bladder happens so much faster than the first? It's the whole "breaking the seal" theory when you're drinking beer. Not twenty minutes later I was in the same position. Damn these low-waisted capris! The were pushing right where I didn't need them to when I was sitting.

Mercifully, Crystal, the ultrasound lady, called my name. I cautiously got up, so as not to pee my pants, and followed her, knees kept close together, to what I thought was the exam room.

Wrong.

She guided me to the bathroom on the other side of the hall and said, "I need you to empty your bladder." She must have seen the surprise on my face because she added, "Oh - you don't need to give me a sample...you can just let it all go."

WHAT!??!

I later learned that the water was not for the magnifying water balloon effect that I though was needed for the sonic waves to do their magic. She simply wanted my organs to be well hydrated.

Next time they should clarify that to drink and pee, drink and pee, drink and pee is okay.

ps - I'm skipping the wine with dinner tonight. I've had enough liquid for the week. I'll maybe start with a Coke on Sunday afternoon.

pps - I'm having residual voiding issues. I have to pee - again! This is tiring. Honestly, how do you water-drinking people do it?

Already Drowning

Okay, so I'm off to do the first of many babydom tests. Today is progesterone blood sample and ultrasound day. I have to drink about a gallon of water for "optimal sonic viewing." For those of you who know me (aka Camelgirl) you know what an ordeal this is for me For those who don't, I don't like water. I don't drink it. It is a waste of time. My liquid consumption during an average day is a swag of juice in the morning - from the carton - and two coffees at my desk. Okay maybe three. Then I'll have a coke or glass of wine with dinner. And that's considered a good day.

It's 9:20 and I've already had two large beer glasses of lemon-flavoured water because I just can't stomach it plain. This is going to be agony. I can't wait to pee and stop drinking this swill.

A Quick Cut and Paste Email String...

Me:

How would you feel about going to Baltimore for the conference in June? I'm ovulating that week. Guh.
cK:
I could go to Baltimore.
Me:

Did I forget to tell you that the cat is out of the preggie-bag? I had to tell E and the Rents since I will be missing scads of work for tests and such - thanks for looking out though - you're a peach.
cK:
Wait a minute. You're not going to go to one of those labs at which they put seven or eight pregnant eggs in you, are you? I can handle two, but if you wind up on the Today show....
Me:

Hold on there Sailor. We're just going to go with an order of blood tests with a side of Ultrasound tomorrow. We'll go from there.
cK:
Blood and sonic guts! Sounds like a good time.
Me:
Wow - sonic guts - that's blog worthy.

For Hulles

Less bitching, more Saturday morning happiness, because it makes you happy Hulles.

Things that made me smile:

• When shopping at 8:45 am for curtain tension rods, Walmart greeted me this morning with a Frito-Lay Arc de Triomphe. Stacked boxes and bags of Doritos, Cheetos, Tostitos, and Lay's potato chips welcomed me to the wonders of Walmart.
• 80's theme on the radio - sang along to Human League (Fascination), J.Geils Band (Angel is a Centerfold) and The Go-Gos (Head Over Heels). A cop saw me boppin' in my car and he smiled at me. Even the Popo was happy this morning!
• The best thing of all was when I was walking into Publix to pick up cat food for the Mank. A man, he was 65 if he was a day, was dressed in board shorts, a short-sleeved tropical button down and a Panama Jack hat. He was running out of the grocery store at full speed with his cart and as soon as he hit the pavement, he hopped on the back of his cart and stuck his tongue out in delight. He looked like a 4-year-old coasting all the way to his car. It was awesome.

I Am Such a Reality Show Whore

It is on like Ray Dawn Chong.

So You Think You Can Dance has immediately warmed up my world where American Idol left me cold and barren. Shoobeedoobeedoobeedance!

Thursday night has officially become couch potato night. My entertaining hour of crazy dancers is to be followed by On The Lot - from one viewing, not a bad show...we shall see. I also hear Hell's Kitchen is making a return (Monday, June 4th, be there or be square).

Performing For You Tonight Ladies and Gentlemen, The Laugh Factory Is Proud To Present ...Carrot Bottom!!!

My younger brother Lexi sent this to me today:

Found this in my lunch bag today but just couldn't bring myself to eat it....had to share. Think GoldenPalace.com would buy this off me on e-bay?



The palour offends me the most I think. They look like once badly sunburned and now peeling Barbie legs (complete with anatomically not correct crotch).

Okay, So Not Really

I'm getting used to living under my hair. It's not quite so shocking when I wake up in the morning now. I'm still uneasy about standing under fluorescent lights.

Not really platinum - but a hell of a lot blonder than I've been in a long time. I'm going back tonight to have a section of it redone - I have a brown patch on my right temple (hence the camera angle) that was neglected in the highlighting process. It kind of makes that side of my head look like I have the mange.



Wow - my desk is a shambles...

Now I Have an Excuse to be Stupid

I'm blonde again...I just spent two hours getting my hair separated, painted and foiled, and I'm not quite sure if I'm loving it. I think she mistook my request to be less yellow and more ashy to mean, "make me platinum!!"

Ray said it looks like I have wig hair. Not a good thing to tell a woman who is on the fence about her $120 purchase (and can't go back to the store for a return). He said he meant that I went away brown and came back completely different - like I had put on a wig. I'm really touchy about the whole hair thing because, well...I'm all about my hair. My hair and my ass - but tonight mostly about my hair. Saying that I look like I have a wig on is bad. But I forgive him. He knows not what he says.

He goes to a barber.

Thaisday

Okay, so Thaiday Friday came a day early. I have nothing to say except that it was yummy and not nearly as spicy as expected. Maybe I'm losing my touch.

As promised, here is my riff off H's Meme:

1) My nails are as hard as, well, nails. I got them from my dad - his nails are as hard as Desperate Dan's. I can't even bend my nails. I have to trim them often because I can't type with them - I keep hitting the key above the intended one. My mom has crap nails, they flake and bend regularly. Except when she was on chemo...strangely, they became Desperate Dan-like during those months. It was really the only good thing about shooting poison into her body every two weeks. That, and it killed the cancer cells.
2) I played Sitting Bull's young daughter in the Pinawa Players production of Annie Get Your Gun. I was about 6 or 7 and I sat on an enormous drum, had no lines and did a little dancing. I loved my costume, it was fake suede and I helped my mom paint it a few nights before dress rehearsal. I wore a feather in my headband. Simplicity. It was beautiful.
3) I have broken my left thumb joint and my left big toe joint (well, chipped really). The thumb came from a too large catcher's mitt in my softball days. The inside loop caught my thumb while I was tagging a girl coming in from third base. She ended up being out, as was my thumb joint when I removed it (sideways) from my glove. It was determined that the doctor broke it when he tried to jam it back into place. I had a cast for 6 weeks. It was itchy and I scratched it by shoving a knitting needle between the cast and my poor, poor skin. The toe was another ordeal. I got my first official job in a ballet company. My (stupid) (then) boyfriend was spotting my handstand roll-downs we had to perform for May O'Donnell's modern ballet. He decided I was doing so well that he stopped spotting me...and I went ass over tea kettle and landed square on the top of my left big toe. A piece of bone chipped off in there somewhere and they couldn't find it for weeks. It took forever to heal and I missed half of the fall season. He left for NY in the middle of October that year, I stayed for 12 more years.
4) I have owned two cars n my lifetime. Both I paid for in cash. Agnes was my first. I named her after the lady who sold her to me. She looked exactly like Agnes DiPesto from Moonlighting. She was a Toyota Corolla - the car, not the lady. She had a cat who had lost the use of its back legs and she dragged herself around in a kitty carriage. The cat, not the lady. My second car was and still is a Honda Accord. Ray calls it my ghetto car (just because he has a zippy little Mini Cooper - which I covet!). I love my car - it corners like a dream.
5) Not a finicky eater at all. I'll pretty much eat anything. There are a few things I don't care for, however. Hot cooked fruit is one of them and I am too lazy to prepare fresh fruit. All that peeling and washing and cutting. Plus, fruit has to be kept in the fridge here in Florida, and my sensitive teeth are just not down with that.
6) I sink in the water. I can swim, but with no stamina. If I fell off a boat, I'd be literally Dead in the Water. I've almost drowned three times, but apparently, I was born with "the cap" - I guess that basically means I came out with a placenta hat, and have been told that the old wives tale says I'll never die from drowning.
7) I've lived on two oceans, and I invite H to come visit and see Florida's portion of ocean for her first time.
8) My brain is ambidextrous. I have equal parts creative right brain and logical left brain. It's my Mom/Dad Creative/Logical Yin/Yang. I'm also a Libra. I like balance.

The Flaming Lips

Around the World in 80 Days and tonight we are in Italy.
Hot, spicy, burn your lips off Italy.
Make your lips look a bit like you went Florida-crazy-lady-with-the-coral-lipstick-outside-of-your-lip-line Italy.
Greazzzzy, puffy lips, hot spicy oily Italy.
My mouth is on fire kinda Italy.



Pasta is the order of the day, but we punted it into next week with HOT sausage and red pepper flakes. Cibo Caldo!

Seriously, I'm going to have to either blow out the whole week and go Indian Curry Thursday, and Thai-day Friday
or
save my o-ring and eat mayo on Wonderbread for the next two days.

Taco, Burrito, Hey What's Comin' Outta Your Speedo?

It's Taco Tuesday (hey Hulles and H - I'm dancing! That's right...doing a taco dance)!!!

So here's what we ended up with tonight. Mr. Anything But Beef got everything plus chicken. Are chicken tacos a cop out? I don't know, it tasted good though. Could have been a little spicier. The taco sauce that came with the "taco kit" was labeled mild. It wasn't hot enough for Ray, so he went for the big guns.



I didn't, however, indulge in Ray's Black Widow sauce.



Why? Because I didn't want to look like Taco Faye Baker.

Sushi Faye Baker

This was me about an hour ago.

No, I wasn't crying about the state of the world, nor was I whimpering because some jackhole cut me off on the freeway. This, friends, is my wasabi face.

WASABI!!!

Though emulating a former televangelist's heavily Maybellined wife, I was quite proud and happy when I self portraited [myself?]. I decided to dive headlong into my sushi-making debut this afternoon. I already had the nori from a previous shopping trip. The sushi rice was ready and waiting to be used - and has been for the better part of 4 months. I had some veggies that were sushi appropriate and all I needed was the fish. Hello Marcello! Our West Palm fish market closed abruptly, so I fell back to the Lantana fish monger, Marcello. Hit or miss with the charm, I got him on a good day - though he relished telling me that he would not sell me anything that wasn't suitable for sushi... "No Mahi-Mahi. I won'ta sella you da Mahi-Mahi. Itsa too lean." All the while he was yelling intermittently at his co-worker (or maybe just some random guy behind the counter?) in rapid-fire Italian. I couldn't tell if he was berating him, or recounting a pleasant day at the beach.



In any case, this is what I produced in my non-Japanese kitchen, and it wasn't half bad. Though I might have been a little too liberal with the wasabi.

Bigger Picture

As told to me by E:

So there I was with a really poopy diaper and Kief and Sash were wrestling on the bed. I asked Sash if he could go into the garage and get the diaper bag out of the car.

Kiefer (4 years old): Oooh, it's really dark and scary in the garage - I'm scared to go in there. Come with me.

Sash (getting off the bed): Alright buddy, I'll go with you.

Kiefer: Not you Daddy. I was talking to God.

Sash and E are not religious by any stretch of the imagination. They have Kiefer in this Christian school because it is really good (except for all the God stuff) and conveniently located. In a previous story, Kiefer had pooh-poohed the problem of being dirty and messy by saying, "Praise the Lord - we're washable!

Ray, after hearing the garage story, said, "Praise the Lord, he's brain-washable!"

Thanks to Kat

This chick is funny. I hope she writes often.

Okay I just checked out the dates of her posts and she doesn't write often. Let's just say I hope she writes again.

Hey Honda, WTF?!!

I love Rick, I do, really.

Rick is my Honda Service Guy. He's an older gentleman who has been married to "a good old girl" for 48 years, and tells me about the trips they are going to take for various anniversaries. He calls me "Honey" and he notices even minute changes in my hair colour. Sitting at his outdoor desk in his navy shorts and white Sherwood Honda golf shirt, he says smoothly in his sandy voice"You're a little lighter than before. That brown was too dark for you. I like you best as a blonde, Honey. You know that." Wink.

I went in yesterday because on Monday, my service light went on. After squinting at the faded ink on the crooked sticker stuck in the corner of my windshield, I deciphered that I was due for my 84,000 mile check-up. Okay, so an appointment was made, I got my ass there really, really early in the morning and dropped off the car for its "oil change." The "oil change" turned into a four hour servicing because Rick, who I love, I really do, told me that there was a recall on the ignition locking mechanism on my model. "The key literally flies out of the ignition...and the car is still running, Honey! You need to get that replaced. I'm just looking out for you."

So I thanked him for his kind attention, called Ray and asked him to pick me up. After chomping on some cream cheese and bread with coffee (actually, I should have said chomping on some coffee - it was really stiff), Ray knocked on the glass and we were on our way.

The day went by, the call came in to pick up the car, the car got retrieved.

Then I tried to start my car in the morning. The key would't turn over. It was like the wheel was locked...but it wasn't. Jam, jam, jam. Jam infinity....then it decided to crack past whatever was jamming it up and turned over. Hmmm, I wondered to myself, maybe it is fine now. Let's try this again. Jam, jam, jam. Arghhhhh! 5 minutes later it cracked past whatever again.

I just dropped off the car again this morning. Hi, Rick? You know I love you, I really do, but I'm recalling your recall.

cK's Interview

More on the interview front:

My questions from one of the best:

1. What flavor cookies would you bake for Mikhail Baryshnikov?
Right now I couldn't give a sh_t about Mischa. However, if I did it would be to feed him millet heart smart cookies. That pampered prima donna has never had millet cookies - I could practically guarantee it. Unless he has birds, which he might...in that case I'd invent a Vegemite cookie recipe, just to wow him.

2. If you won a contest to remove one obnoxious personality from the airwaves (radio or tv), who would it be?
Hands down, Rush Limbaugh, that pompous, stupid ass, rat bastard.

3. Where is the funniest place your cat has vomited?
On Ray's PlayStation. At the height of me hating it. Lovely.

4. What do you most often lose and where do you tend to lose it?
My memory, on the way up/down the stairs to go do the thing that I have immediately forgotten. Grrr.

5. Would you prefer to be taller or faster?
Right now, I would prefer to be faster - at getting pregnant. I just found out today that after 6 months of trying, we are still not there (hence, the angry bitter tone). When I was dancing, I would have preferred to be 3 or 4 inches shorter. I could have danced certain parts with certain people, but I was destined to be the big of the shorts and the small of the talls. I was horrifyingly average. Don't get me wrong...it worked to my advantage most of the time - I had more opportunity to get parts in both groups. But there were partners with whom I would have loved to have been part of a couple, and roles I would have eaten had I been a titchy thing.

If you want to you can...

1. Leave me a comment on this post saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

2007 Just Got Wet

What a perfect lazy day. Woke up at the usual time in a panic and realized that it was Sunday. Ahhhh, back to sleep until 9:40.

Did the usual coffee run, stopping in to the 'Rents to illegally put water in the pool. Water in their pool? They are away for the weekend. Illegal? We are having a drought. During the half hour filling, I pilfered their fridge and made myself an ass-kicking cheese, green onion, cherry tomato and avocado omelette.

On the way home, I went to Joanne's Crafts and Fabrics to look for linseed oil. I had an informal oil painting course in E's garage with her Mom who was visiting for K's 4th birthday. It was great to get over the fear of starting a new medium, but I needed some linseed oil to stretch the paint (we used olive oil in the lesson!). Alas, no oil, so no painting today, which was the plan. So I moved to plan B.

Plan B: Laze by the pool and read.

Plan B turned into Plan C when we realized the pool temperature was 76 degrees!

Plan C: Swim in the pool!

2007's first swim day was relaxing and entertaining - the cat was being mocked by several of the neighbourhood birds. She was doing the growly meow where it looks like her teeth are chattering. Cracks us up every time we see it. It was lovely. We swam, ate sausages and read all day.

Then we had to move inside because the sky started to look a little ominous. The TV tells us we are in for a doozy of a thunderstorm, complete with hail and possible tornadoes. I can hear thunder now, so it's on its way.

I think we'll sleep with the curtains open tonight...I'm up for a light show.

The Birth and Immediate Death of a Superhero

There's a McDonald's across the street from the office, we frequent it fairly often. I went for lunch today (I got the Big and Nasty with cheese).

Today the sign outside indroduces a new product, but because of a spelling error, it reads with a slightly different meaning:

NEW
CINNAMAN
MELTS!

I Left My Heart in San Francisco

So.
Here we go.

I might have to do this in bullet form, I'm just feeling that kind of flow.

• Met Diva Dan at The Supperclub doors. She was ready to go in a blonde wig and a bathtowel wrapped around her bod. She was setting up a bed on the sidewalk to invite people into the club and to take reservations for the show...in her towel, perched upon the bed, on the sidewalk. Can I just say right now how much I miss San Francisco?
• Went upstairs to meet ex-husband, ex-husband's girlfriend and my old dance partner (Diva's life partner). Meet Michael, Corrie and Mario, respectively. Got right to work being a backstage-bitch sewing, setting up the stage, etc.
• Got into the evening's get-up: white wifebeater, men's boxerbriefs, four inch black patent leather peep-toe heels and a black silk peignoir.
• We all tromped downstairs and layed ourselves artfully on the gigantic bed in the middle of the dancefloor (our "table"). My friend Lovesong was dressed up as a bedbug and she bravely went around to each bed/table and cuddled, scratched or slept all over the patrons.
  
• Proceeded to be lavished with champagne. Even the dancers imbibed before the show. Holotta Tymes (another Drag Queen there to perform) flew across the bed to chat with me when I remarked that Diva's second outfit was "very Barbara Stanwyck." Holotta was encouraging the dancers to down more bubbly...she wanted to see them dance drunk.
• Shandy and her boy showed up and joined us on the bed.
  
• The food, oh the food. We started with a beautiful citrusy salad served in metal dog bowls with chopsticks. Then we had the best soup I've ever had. It was some sort of corn thing in a rocks glass.
  
• Between the salad and soup, a 25 year-old-kicking body Opera singer performed. She was wearing a white hand-held masquerade eye mask, a Marie Antoinette wig, a black corset, fundies, a garter with stockings, and a black strappy hoop skirt made of ribbons so you could see through to her legs. Wow. Her voice was divine. Set the mood for the whole night.
• After soup we had slices of beef on soft polenta and then Michael come out pushing his Ducati Monster on the dance floor. The piece was called Outline. He was out of gas, literally and figuratively. His makeup made him look tired and dead. He danced like the downtrodden. He pulled out an eviction notice, an IRS notice, an alimony notice. And then a gun. He does himself in and falls to the floor. Then the dancers came out. Or down. The stage was on the floor level, but they started on the second floor, sliding in these amazing ways down the banister. They were reminiscent of the devil beings in Ghost, except not all Disney and amateur looking. They were mean and tortured. Mario had his scary contact lenses in. They danced with abandon and total commitment. Made me miss dancing for a second... Michael got up as a spirit and they pulled and prodded him until he fell to the ground once again and they finished the piece by outlining his form with pink chalk. It. Was. Awesome.
• Back to the food. The fourth course was salmon - I have no idea how is was because I was really drunk by then. Shandy and Co. left for another engagement and Verna and Co. showed up. It was girls night for them. (I'd like to point out at this moment that their Girl's Night consisted of dressing up like Japanese Street Urchins, drinking their faces off at a night club, and dancing with each other til the wee hours. My usual girls night is a glass of wine in someone's living room, or if we're feeling really wild, a patio bar. Ooooooh. What has my life become?)
• Holotta got up and did the I Love Lucy Vitameatavegemin bit, which was hilarious. She was spot on.
• Somewhere along the way I lost the 25 dollars I was carrying in my hand to pay for a 20 minute back massage. Oh well, it was a free night for me, so someone got a nice tip.
• Diva Dan (after changing for the 5th time - it was like the GD Oscars!) did her bit with a latex vagina and calf birthing lube. Yeah, you heard me. Calf birthing lube. I've never been so entertained and grossed out at the same time.
• Dessert (who wanted to eat after that?!) came out. It was some sort of peach cobbler thingy with a cookie on top. Again, very drunk, not too clear on that one.
  
• The bed got split in half, pushed to the sides and the dance floor was made available to the hoards that came pushing through the doors from the bar. They open the dining area to the bar crowd once the meal has been served.
• So for the rest of the night, I spent time with all the performers and my friends dancing, chatting, dancing, getting hit on and dancing.

It was everything I wanted it to be. I called it quits around 1:45 because I had my flight home the next morning. I could have danced all night, however, my knees are still disagreeing with that statement. It is nearly a week later and they are still mad at me for abusing them so badly. The fluid is going down, but boy was it worth it! Cartilage be damned! You only live once!

Scattergories

Got this from Tate's blog. Anyone else interested can play along.

Rules: Use the 1st letter of your middle name to answer each of the following...They MUST be real places, names,things...NOTHING made up! If you can't think of anything, skip it. You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question.

Your Middle Name: Deans

1. Famous singer: Dolly Parton
2. 4 letter word: dink
3. Street name: Devonshire
4. Color: dark blue
5. Gifts/presents: diamonds
6. Vehicle: Dodge Durango
7. Things in a Souvenir Shop: dolls
8. Boy Name: Doug
9. Girl Name: Delilah
10. Movie Title: Dark Water
11. Drink: Daquiri
12. Occupation: Driver
13. Flower: Delphinium
14. Celebrity: Dan Rather
15. Magazine: Dog & Kennel
16. U.S. City: Dayton, Ohio
17. Teams: Dolphins
18. Something Found in a Kitchen: dishes
19. Reason for Being Late for Work: dead battery
20. Something You Throw Away: dirty papertowels
21. Things You Shout: DUDE, DON'T! DAMN! DICK.
22. Cartoon Character: Dandy Dan
23. Food: dirty water dogs

SF Night 2 and 3

Wednesday

Spent the day working in the hotel room (took advantage of the free wireless). By 3:35 I had wicked cabin fever and needed to get out so I put on my city boots and scoured Union Square for the perfect pajama/lingerie outfit for tonight's Supperclub drag show.

Who, in the great city of San Francisco, can not find anything to wear? Me.

I went to Victoria's Secret (the secret is that their stuff is either see through or girly-stupid), shopped next door at Pink (no thank you, I don't want a pair of super shorty sweatpants with "Pink Princess" scrawled across my ass), hit Macy's (nada), Nordie's (Grandma), and then Bloomie's (nothing!!!!!). However, Bloomie's wasn't a total bust because I did get a lovely pampering surprise while browsing in the lingerie section: an Eileen West goodie bag and glass of sparkling wine. After two sips I was tipsy and that's when I remembered that I missed lunch.

I hurried on back to the hotel and got ready for the evening. There was a communication mix-up with Shandy (she thought I was talking about next Wednesday) so I got stood up on my ride into Oakland. Fortunately, Verna hadn't left her job at the gym yet, so I rushed to the BART and took the train with her. It was fortuitous because we ad a lengthy and very good talk about life, death, parents and what's important. Oh, and she's engaged to Greg! Mike and I introduced them to each other so score one (no two!) shadkhn points for us. Amy and Alan were our first pairing.

Greg picked us up at the station and after stopping at the old apartment (so strange every time I go back there - for those not in the know, I used to live there, across the hall with my first husband Mike for over ten years), we went to Piedmont Ave to meet the gang. As usual, it was a great night of just hanging and laughing hysterically. And, as usual, it was too short. But I get to see everyone again tonight, so that's okay.

Thursday

Same routine during the day. Same breaking point at around 3:30, which gave me time to get ready for the gym. Verna invited me as her guest to her very exclusive, posh, tra-laa, twee, hoighty-toighty sports club situated next to The Four Seasons. What I thought was a good decision turned out to be a bad one. I chose the Window-Overlooking-Market-Street-Elliptical-Machine section to run for 20 minutes. Bad Idea Jeans. The sun hadn't gone down yet and I spent the first 15 minutes in the sunshine getting totally overheated. I felt barfy and light headed when I got off the machine. I had to run my wrists under icy cold water to cool down so that I wouldn't faint in her Pilates class. Why didn't I move? Because I'm a stubborn Irish girl.

The class was excellent and I told her so. I got lost on the way out of the gym - the place is like a maze. As I made my way to Powell Street, I suddenly got inspired and ducked into Old Navy. I purchased my pajama/lingerie outfit (read on)!

So Shandy and I got our shit in a pile and we met to go out to her friend's birthday party. It was nice to sit and talk with her and Jim but I felt bad about bogarting all of her time. Well, not that bad. Ha! We both got hit with the tired stick at the same time, so we cut the night short, but I should be seeing her tonight as well.

So what am I wearing tonight?

Tighty-whitey men's boxer briefs and a white wifebeater! I'm going to wear this under my black silk peignoir and kick myself up in the big girl shoes - black patent leather peekaboo toe pumps.

I have to jet and jump in the shower. Fill you in on the evening's action later.

And Your Little Dog Too

I am an enormous fan of Overheard in Minneapolis, but often I click over to Overheard in New York. This was the best of the week:

The Two Stages of Grief

Queer checking voice mail: Apparently my great aunt just died.
Friend: Oh, I'm so sorry.
Queer: Don't be. She was a horrid, raging bitch.
Friend: Oh, well... then... ding dong!

Blogiviewed? Interblogged?

Random Mindless Ramblings has passed the baton. I'm getting interviewed...someone reading this and making the necessary request will be next.

These are my questions from H:

1. If you could be someone else for one day, who would you be?

Well this would depend. If I could:

• have fun by taking advantage of their celebrity status, Julia Roberts.
• instantly know what they know, Dick Chaney.
• sleep with their partner, Angelina Jolie (or Brad Pitt for that matter! Ha!)
• feel what it's like to be more sensitive, my Mom.
• keep the stuff after shopping, the guy who won the lottery yesterday.
• know what it all meant and retain it, The Dalai Lama.
• feel the thrill but use their skill, a race car driver.
• better understand where he "goes" when he gets that faraway look, my Dad.

2. Would you time travel if such a thing existed and you were given the opportunity? Describe where you would go (location and time period), who you would see, and what you would do.

YES (she yelled enthusiastically)! I would hit the Roaring Twenties in America and then I'd take a steamer to England to hang out and chat with my Grandpa, Granddad, Nana and Grandma. I'd love to have met them then, especially because I don't remember my Mom and Dad's Dads.

3. If you could have an exotic animal as a pet, what would it be?

A Potbellied Pig. I hear they are clean, smart and lovable. Is a pig exotic enough? I don't know, but what I do know is I wouldn't want to take anything exotic out of it's element that really shouldn't be living in a house.

4. Which do you prefer, the Chicken Dance or the Hokey Pokey? Discuss.

I have to go with the Hokey Pokey. Mainly because it is longer and you can do more variations. You can swank up the Pokey. Also, it's way to easy too get tired of the Chicken Dance after about ten seconds. Also, you just look gay doing it.

5. If you weren't in your current line of work, what would you be doing? (i.e. what is your "dream job"?)

Dream Job 1) Ballet Mistress of a large, well-funded ballet company.
Dream Job 2) An Interior Designer or Fashion Designer.

So now it can be your turn. Just follow these simple rules.

1. Leave me a comment on this post saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

SF - Night 1

So a last minute trip finds me in San Francisco, my old haunt - well, for thirteen years the East Bay was really my old haunt, but I think after living in the Upper Sunset and working at Mother Jones on Market Street for several months in 2002, I can also claim the city to be my own.

I arrived last night with no bags to be seen. I'm pretty confident that I was the only one on our flight that did the Florida, New York, California jaunt (it was free on miles), so just me and the blind guy were in the Delta lost luggage department going WTF?! Not sure what his deal was, maybe he tapped his way onto the wrong plane. I know, I can already feel the sunburn that I'll have when I'm frolicking in Hell.

Omar came to pick me up (thanks pal!) and we went directly to food in the Castro, as the cheese and crackers from Delta, surprisingly, weren't sticking to my ribs. Lime is a really sweet spot. Tapas dishes, super tasty drinks - maybe a little too tasty for my liking. I had a candied ginger infused vodka concoction. Spicy!

Then he took me to a place that required reservations and a password! Bourbon & Branch is this ultra cool speakeasy type bar that specializes in high-end, rare spirits and homemade juices and syrups. I had a Cucumber Gimlet made with cucumber infused vodka, elderflower extract, lime juice, homemade orange bitters and champagne that was so refreshing I felt like I belonged on a veranda in the very deep, very hot South. Omar had a rare tequila paired with a recommended Mexican beer (both were lovely).

Tonight I am getting together with the old Oakland Ballet gang on the other side of the Bay. Should be a hoot. And a late night. Details Thursday...

I Win, I Win, I Win!

Hahaha! I just frustrated a Bell South Telemarketer Out Of India and the Supervisor Standing Over His Shoulder so much that I heard the SSOHS say, "Aghhhh, just hanguphanguphanguphangup!"

Hee hee - I'm evil.

Young Again

I saw my parents as teenagers today. I went over in the morning to see how my mom was doing - she's had a bout of food poisoning lately, it's lingering. So Dad came into the kitchen where we were having coffee and fixed himself a bowl of raisin bran. He put the bowl on the counter and reached for the paper.

Mom gave a little squeal and pointed to the floor. There was, on its back, what looked like a huge dead cockroach. Dad bent down to dispose of it and he picked up and popped it in his mouth. Mom gasped and blurted, "Ian!"

Dad gets these apple cheeks when he's being a smartass, he had them as he was saying, "It's a raisin...OH NO IT'S NOT!!" Mom squealed even louder. Dad made a motion to spit it at her and she smacked him on the arm.

They laughed at each other and looked seventeen.

I Like This Song - A Lot

Arcade Fire - Intervention

Quick Shot

Me, very drunk, at the Hard Rock Seminole being gloriously deafened (further) by The Killers. It was wicked good. There were fights, copious rum and cokes, people being yelled at and kicked out, arrests, suuuuuper-high twentysomethings, scantily-clad cougars, vomit and general hilarity as Ray and I acted like high schoolers critiquing everyone that walked by. It was genuine fun.

I woke up still a little hooped.

Catch Up

Not much time - super busy as of late. Tuesday with clients - ALL DAY - went well. Had cocktails with my girl E and we turned to each other and said at the same time, "We haven't been out with each other like this forever." Verbatim. We waited for the gents to make the business dinner and drank cosmos by the Intracoastal. No babies, no hassles - it was very nice.

Wednesday continued with said clients for lunch. Ready to not be with clients anymore, but it all went well. The theme of recognizing the good goes on...

We had Book Club in the evening. Not as well attended this second time around, but the die-hards were there discussing away eating water chestnuts wrapped in bacon. (Really, can you go wrong with bacon? I say no.) Last Days of Summer by Steve Kluger is the next choice. Shirley is hosting.

Today is Thursday and me and my guy are off to the Hardrock Seminole in Ft. Laud. tonight to see The Killers. I'm going to rock out and pretend I'm not 37! Whoo!!

Found out today that I have enough miles to accompany Ray to SF next week. Watching a performance by my ex-husband and ex-dancing partner a week tomorrow in a drag queen supper club. Will keep you informed.

It's All Good

Last week got a bit depressing with plotting all the crap in my life, plus, the week started out very badly for those in VA...so I've decided to have an Oprah moment and track all the good things that happen this week. (I may throw in a piece of crap every once in a while because it's just funnier when things go wrong than when they go well.)

Monday

• We don't owe any taxes! Wahoo!!
• Edited a report that needed to be out the e-door at 5:00 pm - made it by the skin of our teeth.
• Dinner: thick cut pork chops smothered in mushroom soup. Honestly - what is better than that?
  
• Ray and I were entertained by the cat for a good 20 minutes while she made love to my flip flop. Not sure what was on the inside of my shoe, but she was rubbing her face on it like it was catnip. Then she just layed around all night like she was high.
  

Colour Me Happy

Today I cover the world.

After a lovely morning of bank, bagel, coffee and movie drop off, Ray and I got to painting the eggplant coloured wall and logo in his old office. The two coats were easy enough, but I was not paying attention to the label when I bought the can of primer. Oil based. Yeah...that stuff doesn't wash out of the brush when you're done with it. Nor does it wash off your hands with soap and water when you have attempted to squeeze the paint out of the brush with your fingers. I look like I'm wearing gloves. Must get to the turpentine in the garage...

Fixed my painted hands and thought, what the hell, I've already done it to my hands...why not my feet? Bought some lovely French manicure stuff and gave myself a homemade French pedi.

Now I have the urge to to do a watercolour. I have to paint when I am motivated to do so, because I have no discipline otherwise. So I'm going to post this posthaste and get my ass to the sewing/art room. I hope whatever I'm painting turns out better than my pedicure - looks like my four-year-old niece did it.

Friday the 13th

So I didn't kill anyone on the ride home yesterday -nor was I killed, maimed, bumped, knocked or otherwise.

Friday the 13th has always been a good day for me - I was married on Friday, January 13th. I as I did on that day, I have no complaints for today (except that I watched Hollywoodland and it was crap).

The weekend is here so I have my rose-coloured Saturday morning to look forward to. Yay!

Infini Noir

Thursday

5:55am - Rudely awakened from what I am pretty sure was an awesome dream by the Mank working up her next toss. Thought I got it all until I put my head back down on the pillow, and a got my cheek wet. Rinsed face, and slept on towel in exhausted defeat.
9:40 am - Nearly took a header on the shiny, newly waxed BMW/Mini dealer showfloor.
9:45 am - Was told by Joe that the passenger seatback wasn't broken, did I know that "you just need to flip the second lever on the side of the seat?" Guh.
9:55 am - Offered a PT Cruiser as a rental car. Ummm, let me think about that...no. No chance in hell.
2:00 pm - Burned tongue on Chicken HotPocket-like sandwich.
2:02 pm - Burned tongue again. Seriously, am I retarded?
3:30 pm - Travel goddess Julie emailed that we could get to Gran Canaria in October on miles, but we'd have to stopover four times and we'd have to start the journey from Miami, the airport from hell. (Okay, so that's not so black, but truly, MIA is just horrific for international travel.)

Going to tackle the freeway now - let's see what happens there...

Black Continues

I don't want to give the impression that it is all bad (much of it is indeed good), but this is my week to complain, so here I go.

Wednesday

8:00 am - CRAMPS
11:30 am - lunch meeting with a client at our favourite seafood restaurant...which apparently had just gone out of business. Had to think quick and relocate.
3:30 pm - encountered what was quite possibly the most aggressive BO left in a confined space (the handicrapper) that I have ever smelled in my 37 years.

Keeping a Tally

Black is back:

Monday
9:20 am - Editing a very large document from email. Power out. All changes lost.
3:30 pm - One day after hiring a pricey sales person, my guy loses a huge client, could lose another in June. This would mean lights out.
7:30 pm - To appease said depressed man, I have been subjected to 5 straight episodes of Enterprise (one partial as we flipped to Law and Order during SciFi commercials).

Tuesday
3:55 am - Cat wakes me akk, akk, akking, while cuddled down, dead asleep. Missed the barf towel I keep on the headboard and watched her yak all over the bed. Tuna. Nice.
3:56 am - My guy snaps on the light so we can change the sheets. At that moment, I hate him more than the cat for the even ruder awakening. I have always been convinced that I can hang on to the sleep state as long as it is dark.
5:30 am - Finally found the sleep state again.
5:40 am - Woke up to cat yakking again.
8:00 am - Una mas. One more time with feeling people.
2:30 pm - The company that has been our web hosting server for forever has gone from Shining Angel to Rude Asshole in the space of 5 months. WTF?! Is it just because I'm SleepGrumpy?
4:30 pm - Eye test. Yes your eyes are worse (but only a little) and yes you have the same thing as your dad (narrow angle) and yes your eye could explode because of too much fluid (but it's rare). Says the doc, "Just keep an eye on it...*wink*"

to be continued...

Do You Love Revenge?

Grindhouse.

See it.

Everythink is Pink

You know those mornings? It's early, there is no traffic, a few people are out walking their dogs, the air is crisp - well, as crisp as it can be on a cool Florida morning. You make the bank, bagel, coffee, Blockbuster return run. Everyone is polite, there are interesting characters around, eavesdropping turns out to be pleasant, not horrifying.

I had that morning. Maybe I'm being a bit rose-coloured glasses about the whole thing, but life is good. I'll enjoy this moment for now because I'm sure there is some Anna Nicole-like train wreck headed straight for me and my view of the world will go back to normal.

How to Lick Old Age

I'm in the middle of baking a chocolate cake right now. I have 8 minutes left on my cupcakes and 10 after that for the three cakes. Three cakes equals 6 layers with whipped cream icing and berries in between...Holy Mountain High! The cupcakes are for the little ones at Easter Sunday dinner, occurring tomorrow afternoon (Saturday) at lunch.

So I was feeling a little low today, a little old, a little slow. If you are ever feeling this way, follow my lead: Make a cake.

• Pour the cakes, wipe edge with finger, lick said finger.
• Scoop and deposit the batter into cupcake forms (the more colourful the better), lick spoon.
• Scrape the bowl, lick spatula.
• Remove the beaters, pass one to husband/wife, girlfriend/boyfriend, cat/dog, and commence licking (the beater not the...oh well, whatever turns your crank).

I defy you to feel crappy after all that chocolaty goodness, not to mention the licking.

Making a cake and exercising your taste buds this way is akin to walking down the street with a 6 foot Hoagie. It's going to make you feel better whether you want to or not. It makes you feel like a kid again, and you know what? Those days weren't half bad.

Chic Entry (Tchik not Sheek)

So I got my hair done last night. At a salon. For the first time in forever (I had been going to my sister-in-law).

Changes since I have last been in a hairdressing establishment:

• Free consultations
• 3-tiered prices, Artistic, Stylistic and Master
• Volumizer that smells like Sweet Tarts
• Three-process colouring (what in tarnation is that?)
• Glazing
• Massaging hairwashing chair (normally, leaning back like that with a wet head weighing you down used to be it's own special kind of torturous hell, but someone got smart and made them comfy, and vibrating!)
• The prices! WTF? 225 for a cut and colour (yeah but don't forget it was three-process colouring)... JEEZ!

I think maybe I'll go back every second or third time (prices vs pampering). I like the result - a little blonder than before, a little more shapely. I still don't love my hair, but I'm workin my way back to you babe. Someday we'll get it back to rights.

Note to self: Never cut hair short again, the growing out process is more than we can handle. That is all.

not comfy

waaaaaay comfy!

Best Part of the Weekend

So I took my niece Coleen to go see Romeo & Juliet this Sunday. She is four, but very mature (though she did hide her face during the swordfights because "I don't want to see the bad guy"). In the car on the way home, she wanted to recap what had happened on stage.

Midway into the story...

C: So then I remember when Romeo fell, he fell, you know, he fell on the soccer grass.

L: The soccer grass? What do you mean he fell on the soccer grass?

C: You know, at the end of the ballet, when he fell, he fell on the soccer grass!

L: Huh?

C: The SOCCER GRASS!

Pause

L: Do you mean the sarcophagus?

C: Yeah, the soccer...I mean sarcophagus.

SHE'S FOUR!! And what's more, none of us can figure out where she got the word sarcophagus. It wasn't me, or her mom or her dad. This child is brilliant. I want in on her Nobel Prize when she is 12.