It All Started Early This Afternoon

This sheet looks like it had an unfortunate encounter with red or pink dye.  I assure you it did not.  The room is red and for some reason, it reflected the color on the white sheet. Part of the problem might be that the sheet is wrinkled, but I'm not tripping on that part just yet.  Ironing a poorly folded sheet is just not that important, now is it?

Let me back up.  As you may know, Nicky, the glorious jewel of the blogging world, is coming to visit me next week.  In preparation for her visit, I have done a few things to make Nicky feel good about coming to visit.  I have put on fresh sheets on the bed in her room, ordered the flowers, cleared out drawers for her use and emptied the "guest bedroom" closet.  Further, I have cleaned the bathroom with an old toothbrush to be sure that she and her darling son Max will have pristine surroundings.

I've gotten some fun toys for Max to play with and gotten Nicky some nice bath and beaut;y stuff (not that she needs any the beauty part), and forbade Harry to lie on their bed until after the visit.

I even cleaned up my linen closet.  Well, sort of.  The problem is those frigging fitted sheets.  I have never been able to figure out how in the hell to fold a stupid fitted sheet.

Never mind.  Since Mama never taught me, today there is another answer.  I went on the Internet and was amazed at the videos available on just this subject.  I watched about ten of them and then thought, "Hey!  I've got this!".  Little did I know that after 3 hours of trying my damnedest I could not make the sheets look like they did in the videos.   My one hope was that Alex (my brainiac husband) would come home, watch the video and fold the sheets correctly.  This man is a rocket scientist.  He's a rock star in his field.  He is a stud!

Unfortunately, the sheet I photographed is the one fitted sheet I folded and it's the best one of the bunch.  Alex attempted to follow the directions and then just rolled the frigging sheet up and said "There!  That looks fine!"  Alex is a total idiot!

I had so wanted to impress Nicky with my home-making skills.  I had so wanted to have Nicky love us and want to live with us as my "sister wife".  Alex has no idea how his half-assed non-effort has just made those things next to impossible.  I am distraught beyond words.

Nicky, forgive me.

"Stick It In A Bag - But Don't Tell Anybody!"

I watch too much news.

There was a story last week about a young guy in Florida who got in trouble with an alligator and nearly lost his life.  In the end, he did lose a good portion of his right arm.

There was a story of a guy off the coast of Perth, Western Australia last week who got killed by a shark.  I think the news story went so far as to say he had been bitten in half.  They (the news people, not the sharks), are always so graphic!

I'm going to tell you another story from last week that didn't make the newspapers, but perhaps it should have.  I'm going to call my story "Goose Gets Gotten By Pit Bull And Lives To Tell the Tale".

We take our dogs to Coast Guard Island a lot.  There's a lot of land over there where they can run off leash and both Harry and Zoe love the place.

Harry especially loves that there is a very large goose population on the island.  The Coasties mainly hate the geese because they poop everywhere and are generally a pretty annoying bird.  They have tried putting up fake dogs to deter the birds, but as likely as not, we see the fake dogs knocked off their posts and shat upon by the geese.  Talk about adding insult to injury!

Zoe, black with pinstripe, Harry, orange guy

Harry is a big dog but he's getting a little older now.  When we drive on to the base, he sees the huge numbers of geese sitting around just making goosey noises, he starts to hyperventiliate.  We let Harry out of the car and he runs at his top speed toward the flock.  The geese scream and run and fly off into the Bay.  Harry is very proud of the reaction the geese have to him. 

We generally don't let Zoe out of the car until after Harry is well on his way to driving off the geese.  The reason for this is that Zoe's nickname to us is "Zoe Zoe A Go Go" because she is the fasted dog I have ever seen.  Zoe goes from zero to sixty in about 3.2 seconds.  She also flies through the air like a Russian ballerina.  Zoe is about 50 pounds of pure muscle and loves to chase! 

We pulled up to the usual spot yesterday and there were about 200 geese there hanging out on the lawn.  Alex opened the car door and Harry and Zoe jumped out at the same time.  This was a worry.  The geese were running for their lives, but one guy just wasn't that fast!  Zoe brought him down and she was laying on top of him.  Now there are not little geese but huge geese.  Alex was running toward her as fast as he could run, (which compared to Zoe, or Harry for that matter, he's pretty slow).  He yelled at Zoe, "Come here!"  And she slowly got up.  My heart was in my throat!

As Zoe slowly ambled toward Alex, the goose shook his head and got up!  He ran toward the water and got into flight!  She didn't hurt him.  She flattened him under her, but didn't bite him.  He was fine!  Now this is a good news story.

Today we went back to Coast Guard Island with the dogs.  My favorite handsome security guard was on duty.  Alex asked him, "Officer, what should we do if one of our dogs accidentally kills a goose?"  The cop responded "One of our geese?"  Alex said "Yes."  The security guard took a moment and said the following:

"Just stick it in a bag, but don't tell anybody."  We rode off snorting with laughter. 

Yeah, we're sick.

The Arab Boy At The Corner Store

I see him almost every day.

I run into the corner store to buy a coke, bread, a six pack of beer, something.  Jamal always makes it a point to wait on me.  I'm a good customer and I'm friendly.  In return, Jamal is friendly too.

He goes so far as to comment on my appearance in rather flattering terms.  But Jamal usually makes a big deal over my jewelry too.  I'd love to think it's because I'm so damned darling that he seems to favor me.  Alas, I'm not good at self deception.

I dropped by the store yesterday and Jamal stopped stocking shelves and came over to ring up my purchases although another young man was already at the next register.

The two men were bantering back and forth about Jamal's girlfriend.  Jamal responded that he didn't have a girlfriend.  He followed that up by saying "Right now, I'm single."

I said "What a coincidence!  Right now I'm single too!"  Jamal and his friend responded to me with a whoop!  Jamal said to me "You should invite me over to visit you!  We could have a glass of wine."  I then explained that while I would enjoy that tremendously, my husband would disapprove.

Jamal said "I thought you said you were single!"  I replied "I'm only single right now, Jamal.  My husband is on a business trip." 

Jamal rang up my purchases and said "So am I invited?"  I told him "Of course, Jamal. You are always invited."

I felt his eyes on my ruby bracelet as I left the store.

Money, Honey!

These are hard times in America. 

A lot of people are out of work.  A lot of people can't keep up with their house payments.  A lot of people don't have health insurance.

I get it.  And, I don't like it.  Nobody likes it.  Or do they? 

Are people "playing politics" to keep the Job's Numbers bad until after the Presidential election?  Would there be a point to doing that?  Would politicians actually hurt their own constituents just to make a political point?  I really don't know the answer to that question.

Maybe private companies are just afraid to hire new employees.  Maybe business is just slow across the board.  If the American economy is in such bad shape, I do have a question.  How is it possible that the Romney Presidential Campaign raised $100 Million Dollars in the month of June alone?  That is a staggering amount of money to raise in a bad economy.  It is much more than anybody donates to cancer research.  It is much more than anybody donates to their church.  It is a mind boggling amount of money to donate to a Presidential Campaign in the course of one month.

Who are these people making such outrageously large contributions?  Oh wait, it's not individual contributors in a lot of cases. It's corporations and special interests groups.  We are being bombarded with ads promoting various "energy" schemes and hearing a lot about a proposed pipeline to bring oil down from the far north.  (Whether this is at huge environmental detriment is not a consideration.)

If these corporations and special interest groups put that money into helping to protect the environment and/or grow the economy, it seems to me it would have some amazing results. 

I really hope this does not turn into a country where the candidate who can afford the most ads on television wins the election.  Seems that might not be in our best interests.

Crazy Busy? Not So Much

You know those people who tell you all the time "I've just been crazy busy!"

Well, I'm at the opposite end of the spectrum.  I am "crazy lazy".  Afternoons are frequently spent resting in Harry's apartment while we watch television.  Or reading in the backyard while I'm watching the pond fish swim back in forth.   

It seems normal to me.  But then I talk to people all the time who tell me how "crazy busy" they are.  They have club meetings, golf lessons, yoga, board of directors meetings, pottery at the studio, cooking classes, flower arranging workshops, and book club meetings.  They also volunteer as candy stripers at the local hospital.

I don't like clubs.  For that matter I don't like meetings either.  I know how to cook.  I know how to read books and stick flowers in a vase.  And I hate hospitals because there are sick people in hospitals.

I mainly do what I like to do.  That's how I like to live my life.  I see friends, but only if I want to see friends.  I play with my dogs, but then I also ignore them sometimes.  I cook up a storm if I'm in the mood, and if not I go out or order in.  I keep my house in order but I'm no fanatic about it.  It's a slow leisurely way to live.  I take hour long bubble baths because they soothe me.  Some days, I don't feel like it so I don't do it.  In other words, I'm not "crazy busy".  I don't think I ever have been.  I've been tired when I was working 8 to 10 hours a day, and commuting an hour each way.  Coming home and making dinner was sort of a chore, but I did it.  I don't think it made me "crazy busy" though.  It just made me tired.


People I know will call me and ask me "What does your schedule look like?".  Say what?  I don't have a schedule.  I do things on the fly.  Call me up at 10 AM and ask me if I want to join you in going to a ballgame in the afternoon.  I will probably say yes.  Call me at noon and ask me if I want to come over and drink margaritas with you and I'll probably say yes.  Call me anytime and ask me if I want to take a walk with you and exercise the dogs.  I'll say yes.

A lot of what people do that makes them "crazy busy" is self imposed.  Don't make all those plans and commitments.  If you want to stay in bed all day on a Saturday, do it.  Don't join all those clubs and make all those plans.

Learn to be "crazy lazy".  You just might like it.

It Could Have Been Worse - Day 30

This 30 day writing gig has kicked my ass.

It made me tired.  It made me feel panicked.  It made me feel inadequate.  It made me feel blue. 

There is only one thing I can say about "It could have been worse", and that is, yeah, it could be a month with 31 days. 

To celebrate finishing the exercise, I awarded myself with a pair of summer shoes.  They are so much celebration shoes that I can't even talk about them.  I have them on and plan to have a gin and tonic to show how thrilled I am to have this competition over and done with.

It's like when you quit banging your head against the wall.  It just feels so good!  Don't get me wrong, it's been real!  And it's been fun!

But it hasn't been real fun! 

Is There A Statute of Limitations That Applies Here?

This is my next to last post on the "30 Days of Writing" challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of "We Work For Cheese".  It's been fun, but now I've decided to do a little serious confessing to a crime I committed a few years ago.

Today's prompt is "Outside the Rules", but perhaps this would be more under the heading of "Outside the Law".



I don't know what made me do it.

I've asked myself over and over "What were you thinking?"  I guess the answer was I wasn't thinking.

My husband and I were awaiting our new court date, since Ron, (the landlord from hell), had filed an appeal on the first court's decision that was in our favor.

One evening, we may or may not have had a couple of margaritas.  Then we may or may not have discussed what a butt head Ron was for putting us through all this court stuff to get our security and cleaning deposit back from him. We were upset and annoyed.  Sometimes those emotions are worse after a little tequila.  After having a little more tequila, I had a brain storm. That's always a bit scary.

I suggested that we vandalize the house we had rented from Ron.  At first my husband was not at all sold on my idea.  But I did my best "Eve with the apple" routine on him and he finally came around to my way of thinking.  It was nearly 10 PM and late enough I thought we could take a run over to Ron's house and nobody would be the wiser.  I suggested that we both dress in black and wear black watch caps to disguise ourselves a bit.  (Of course, we did have the bright red Miata, but that was something I really didn't worry about.)

On the way to the house, I had my husband stop at a 7-11 and I bought a dozen eggs.   Giggling to ourselves, we pulled the car up in front of Ron's house and saw that there was nobody looking out any windows in the nearby houses.  Now, keep in mind, we had lived in this house for 5 years so neighbors might recognize us and our car should they peek out a window.

We quietly sneaked up the front stairs and violently tossed the eggs at the house.  We were snorting with barely controlled laughter.  All at once, we saw headlights approaching and we froze in our tracks.  The car slowed down in front of a house two doors away.  We both lay flat on our bellies and waited.  We heard someone get out of the car and disappear into the night.

By this time, it wasn't so fun anymore.  We were terrified. We left the remaining eggs on the front landing and quietly got into our car and raced home.  For numerous days we waited for the police to show up and arrest us.  (I was convinced the cops would be able to track our fingerprints on the egg shells and the egg carton.)  The guilt I felt was incredible.  And I made Alex a nervous wreck by constantly talking about the possible charges that I knew would be coming.

I shoplifted a can of Aqua Net hairspray when I was 13.  That was terrifying and I never did such a thing again.  This was worse.

Days passed and nothing happened.  Weeks passed.  No visits from the police.  No calls from Ron accusing us of egging his house.  I still wasn't sure we were out of the woods.

We went to the 2nd court date and I felt so guilty I didn't even care if we lost our security deposit.  I just didn't want to be exposed as a vandal.

I wasn't.  Whew!

Let me tell you folks, crime doesn't pay.  Or sometimes it might.  But in this case, it really wasn't worth it. (Ron, if you are reading this, "You had it coming, Sucker!")