Pardon my French

When I began blogging I decided not to use curse words. I thought it would be impolite. It might offend. It might drive some people away. As it turns out, the opposite has happened… NOT swearing has driven ONE person away: me. It’s just not natural for me not to cuss once in a while, so fuck it. I’m cussin’.

Advertisements

Monkey see, monkey do

My grandparents had a big mimosa tree in their yard that was perfect for climbing if you were a girl about 9 years old. One summer day I wanted to climb the mimosa tree, but my aunt said I shouldn’t because her son was there, and he was too young to climb a tree. Then to clarify her point she added, “monkey see, monkey do”. This was the first time I had heard that phrase, so I begged an explanation. She told me that whatever I did my cousin would want to do. I didn’t get to climb the tree that day, but that was okay because I had a lot to think about.

If I had looked at it from another perspective I would have realized that monkey see, monkey do was a familiar dynamic in my life. But I was used to being the little monkey, always wanting to do what my big sister did. [It occurs to me that my sister needs a pseudonym. I can’t go on calling her “my big sister” forever. So, what the Hell… let’s call her Marcia] I was forever apeing Marcia, and she’d call me a copycat, I’d say no I’m not, and it went on and on and on. The concept wasn’t new to me at all, but it looked new. I was the big monkey? Amazing. I immediately began to think about how I would test my new found power.

I was an insomniac from my earliest memory, so I was always the last one to wake up. The day after the day I didn’t get to climb the mimosa tree, I woke up (last, as usual) at my aunt’s house. I went in to the kitchen for breakfast. Everyone else was finished, except for my cousin. He was still sitting at the table with a bowl full of cereal, and across from him was a place set for me, with my empty cereal bowl. Without saying a word I picked up my empty bowl and flipped it over onto my head. My aunt walked into the kitchen just in time to see her precious baby boy pick up his bowl full of cereal, and make good on her prophecy.

1-900-DOG-WALK

I go for long walks with my dog every chance I get, and I track our distance with an app on my phone. My old phone had a female robot voice that would update me with our progress. From time to time she would say something helpful like, “one…mile…in…seventeen…minutes…four…seconds…lap…pace…seventeen…minutes…four…seconds”. I liked this friendly robot lady.

My new phone has the most seductive female voice I’ve ever heard. After every mile she coos “one mile in seventeen minutes four seconds. Lap pace…” in a way that would make a phone sex operator blush. I still find it helpful to have that information, but on a nice day when there are lots of people out walking you might find me loitering on the path, just shy of the one mile mark.

“Relationship Key Learns” or – “How Not To Be A Cock”

I love this. I wish I had written it. F’n hilarious!

kzzinsky

I have had a few relationships over the years, most of which – hands up, it’s on me – ended out being utter car crashes due to poor choices on my part. I am not perfect; in fact, if you’ve been here a while, you will know that I write about exactly how NOT PERFECT I am.

However, we all inexplicably put up with unnecessary bullshit in relationships, and over the years I have identified a few important elements of friction-generating behaviour in my ex-partners. I am keen to share some tips with everyone to help you avoid unwittingly becoming the kind of boyfriend or girlfriend whose significant other has a desperate urge to throw heavy furniture at.

…also, it’s a bit funny. In retrospect.

In no particular order;

  • Don’t make a mess, and then complain about there being a mess.
  • Learn when your partner’s birthday is, and decide in…

View original post 571 more words

Awards! Awards! Awards!

the-daydreamer-award1

Today I was honored by TWO fellow bloggers, with TWO different awards!

I’ll be honest… I did a Leibster just last week, and it took me THREE HOURS. And while it was fun, I’m not up to doing another of those just yet. So instead, I’ve decided to make up my own rules.  Then I might just break ’em!

First, thanks to the kind people who nominate me.  You should check out their blogs…

Joeyfully Stated  and  Pinches of Madness

For the Daydreamer award my task is to tell a daydream. My daydreams these days aren’t very entertaining. I find that I can’t buy into a daydream unless it’s realistic, and that takes most of the fun out of it. When I was married, all of my George Clooney fantasies had to start with the death of my husband, for example. So I’ll go back to a favorite daydream from fourth grade, when I wasn’t so picky about things making sense….

In my fourth grade classroom there was a coat rack that ran the length of the room. Little hooks, all in a row. Looking at that coat rack every day made think of a row of little rowboats, moored on the coat rack. I created a scenario in which the school had been flooded… I have no idea why… and each child was given a rowboat to navigate the waters. During class time we would row to our appointed spots and drop anchor. Lunch time, we would all row our boats single file to the cafeteria. The coat rack was for recess.  Everyone would tie off at the coat rack and we’d swim! I spent much of the 1973-74 school year living this nautical daydream.

Pinches of Madness gave me a list of questions.  I love questions!  Here they are, ditifully answered:

1) If you were a unicorn, would you poop rainbows or jelly beans?

I wouldn’t have expected that unicorns poop at all, but if I must poop either rainbows or jelly beans, jelly beans, for sure! How fun would that be? Put your poop in a bowl and watch unsuspecting victims….

2) Are you a cat person or a dog person?

I have one of each. My dog loves me unconditionally, and he’s my best friend. My cat is a selfish fiend. I’m a dog person.

3) What is the one thing that really bothers you?

I would say that the thing that bothers me most is untruthfulness.

4) Would you say no to free ice cream? If so, what horrible event happened in your childhood to make you this way?

I WOULD say no to free ice cream! The horrible event didn’t occur during my childhood, but rather some time later… I got FAT!  Working on that, so no ice cream for me.  😦

5) Which supercar would you be driving right now if you were mega-rich?

If I were mega-rich I probably wouldn’t drive a supercar. I’d be driving an amazing, classic convertible. Maybe an old T-Bird.

6) If you had a swimming pool: Would you fill it with pasta or would you fill it with Coke and then drop a pound of Mentos in it?

I’d rather not have a swimming pool at all, but if I have to have one, fill that baby up with pasta! Sure, that’ll completely wreck my diet, but then I can have some free ice cream!

7) Where would you go for your dream vacation?

London.

8) What is your worst nightmare? I know, that took a dark turn. Plot twist!

If you mean actual nightmares, I have this one recurring nightmare that I can’t explain because it doesn’t really have any identifiable objects in it. There’s just this sensation of something rotating, and as it rotates it grows, and I feel like I should be able to stop it, but I can’t, and it overwhelms me. But if you mean a waking nightmare… rats!  I HATE rats!

9) What makes you smile?

Lots of stuff… everything, if I can find the right way to look at it. I make it a point to smile as much as I can.

10) Who’s the more important person in the world to you?

Right now, it’s Grumpy. My whole life revolves around him, for the duration of his life. After he’s gone, it’ll be ME, ME, ME!!!

Okay, so the next part of my duel-award-mash-up is the part where I don’t nominate anyone, but instead I link to some of my favorite blogs so you can go check ’em out if you want to read some cool stuff.

In no particular order…

Nutsrok

How to be Myself

Milk and Whiskey

The Lucky Otter’s Museum of Narcissism

No Facilities 

Adopting James

Kurt Brindley

Jeanne Foguth’s Blog

The Phil Factor

Gluestick Mom

Blondewritemore

This Hilarious Earth

Northwoods Photographer

Single Family Asylum

JDAWGSWORDS

And that’s it! I’m not going to tag anyone else, but if you feel like making up your own rules, or answering any of the above questions, or telling about your daydreams, go for it!

The Wake-up Fairy wars

I had a nemisis in kindergarten. That probably says something terrible about me, but there it is… I had a nemisis. I can’t remember her name now, or anything else about her. I can’t remember why we hated each other, but we were in constant competition for the entire year.

There wasn’t much to compete for in church kindergarten but each day we would have nap time, and the kid who could be the quietest during nap time would be named “The Wake-up Fairy”. It may seem like a dubious honor, but being Wake-up Fairy came with privledges. First, the Wake-up Fairy got to wake up before all of the other children. Then he or she would be given the wake-up wand (which looked remarkably like a yardstick). It was his or her job to tiptoe around the room tapping the little children on the shoulder one by one to wake them up. You got to pick who woke up first, so the Wake-up Fairy had a little bit of power.

Every day my nemisis and I would compete fiercly for the title of Wake-up Fairy. I’m sure it would be a tough contest for most 5 year-olds, but the nemisis and I took it to a level that was untouchable by anyone else in the class. It was the hardest thing I did all day. It was impossible to relax but the slightest movement would be a forfeit, so I would spend nap time lying on my mat with every muscle tensed, stiff as a board, and absolutely motionless. It was rare that I lost. She was weak…maybe she was actually trying to nap.  Whatever the cause, she couldn’t hold a candle to me. I believe I still hold the world record for Wake-up Fairy titles.

So each day. I would tip-toe around the class room, wake-up wand in hand, and I’d wake my classmates one by one, starting with the ones I liked best that day. As I performed by Wake-up Fairy duties, I would keep one eye on the teacher, and as soon as I was able to verify that she was thoroughly distracted, I would wander over to my nemesis and, with a tight grip on my wand, I’d whack her on the head!

Age is just a number…

Enjoying some harmless flirting with a security guard at work, when he hits me with this… he’s “25…almost 26”. He might as well have said “25 going on 26”. Half my age! Of course I had a mild panic attack,  which he attempted to cure by telling me age is just a number. Yes, sweetie… fractions are numbers, too.

Posted from WordPress for Android

Pancho and Lefty

Last night I posted The other bucket list, and it got a lot of comments.  One of them (from JDAWSGWORDS) began like this…

“I thought of “lefty living in a cheap motel” for some reason…”

Is there a better way to begin a comment than with a line from Pancho and Lefty? I don’t think there could possibly be. It made me think so many thoughts that I lost sleep.

I remember the first time I heard Pancho and Lefty. I loved it right away. I’m not even going to try to explain why. Listen to the song, if you don’t already know. Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard recorded a version that always gives me goosebumps. Townes Van Zandt recorded it first (and wrote it), and several others have covered it since. It’s one of those songs that I rarely think of until I’m reminded of it, and then it’s like I’m hearing it again for the first time. I’ll probably listen to it again before I finish this post, and it will give me the same feelings all over again.

At some point I thought, “this would be a good song to learn when I finally get around to learning to play guitar”. And then I realized I had left an important item off the bucket list: learn to play guitar. I’ve had a guitar since about 1982. My first was a beat up old nylon string Alvarez. I wish I still had it. I gave it to my brother when I got my new guitar (a Epiphone steel string acoustic) and in his innocence he attempted to put steel strings on it. It exploded. That would have been about 1999, or 2000. I never learned to play. I never put in the time. Occasionally I would cut off my fingernails and make some noise for a while, but it was never really playing.

Now Grumpy, on the other hand, could play the HELL out of a guitar. He DID put in the time. I think it’s accurate to say he was a master of blues guitar. Maybe the cruelest thing that has happened to him in his illness was losing that. One day he realized his hands could no longer do what he asked them to do, and he took the strings off his guitars for good. A very insignificant effect of that is that I no longer make noise on my guitar. It’s too sad for him. I took the strings off my guitar as well. When Grumpy is gone I will find myself in the strange position of being a very bad guitar player with some very good guitars. I think I’ll give it a try again. I might even take lessons this time.

As I was drifting off to sleep it occurred to be that Lefty would be an excellent name for a dog. I could have this conversation…

person: What’s his name?
me: Lefty
person: Why do you call him Lefty?
me: Pancho and Lefty
person: Where’s Pancho?
me: He died down in Mexico.

I don’t think I’d ever get tired of that.