I'm Too Old for This Meme

MDH and I are leaving tomorrow for the bright lights of the big city of Columbus, Ohio to spend New Year's and the rest of next week with all of our lovely friends, most of whom are public school teachers who don't have to go back to work until Jan 7th. Par-tay!

Since MDH has to spend some of our time there working we can charge most of our expenses to the company trough. Hurray! It's what my darling calls a "boondoggle".

Meanwhile, in my absence, I give you the gift of music, via the meme that Constant Drama, that sweet young thing, tagged me for last week. I started filling it out and feeling very old and noticed that my answers were lacking lustre. I decided to spice things up a bit (and because I'm still not over the thrill of having my iPod safely returned from being repaired) and use musical answers from the shuffle feature of my iPod, as in a similar meme I posted on Monday.

This time, however, there is a new and experimental element I've added just for YOU. I've uploaded the musical answers to a file sharing thingy and hopefully you'll be able to click on them and actually download and listen to the songs as you please.

Hope it works! If not, would you please let me know in the comments?

Many thanks to BeckEye from The Pop Eye for inspiring me to try.

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night.
Jack Nicholson. MDH and I watched The Shining.

I Can't Tame Wild Women, by the Hotclub of Cowtown

2. What were you doing at 0800?
I’ve got cotton candy between my ears and find that time reference baffling. So I was either, sleeping, reading, cooking or watching TV.

Wunderlande by Rubin Steiner

3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
I was reading blogs, which is how I stumbled across the fact that I had been tagged.

Natural's Not In It by Gang of Four

4. What happened to you in 2006?
I’m old and have a hard time remembering that far back, but I’m sure I was sitting on a lot of airplanes.

That Girl by Stevie Wonder

5. What was the last thing you said out loud?
“That’s not for kitties!”, when the cat tried to eat my cottage cheese.

L'il Ennio by Belly

6. How many beverages did you have today?
Two cups of coffee and a glass of water.

Rockin' the Polanaise by Freddie Bell & The Bellboys

7. What colour is your hairbrush?
Which one? I’ve got 6.

Situation by Yaz

8. What was the last thing you paid for?
This morning I bought 3 city issued bulk garbage tags. My life is THAT exciting.

The Sea by Morcheeba

9. Where were you last night?
Home with my bum firmly planted on the sofa.

Jazzy Bach by Benoit Charest

10. What colour is your front door?
It’s oak with stained glass in an Arts & Crafts pattern.

Paint by Soul Coughing

11. Where do you keep your change?
On the bedroom floor, wherever it lands after it falls out of my pockets, or the dryer.

Mighty, Mighty by Earth Wind & Fire

12. What's the weather like today?
Gray, cold and dismal.

Freakie Hijiki by The Beastie Boys

13. What's the best ice-cream flavour?
I cannot say what’s the best, but my favorites are banana and pistachio.

Brooklyn Recycles by Brooklyn Funk Essencials

14. What excites you?
The current season of Project Runway, getting free shampoo samples in the mail, finding a good parking spot.

Institutionalized by Suicidal Tendencies

15. Do you want to cut your hair?
Not myself, no. That would just look crazy.

My Blue Heaven by Artie Shaw

16. Are you over the age of 25?
I’m 40 and a half.

Lulu by Red Prysock

17. Do you talk a lot?
Not anymore as these days I am often alone. These days I’m typing more than I’m talking, but I can chew the ear off of strangers at the check out register at the grocery store.

Sugar Daddy by Frank Black

18. Do you watch the O.C?
I do not. I do however watch The Real Housewives of Orange County on Bravo.

Quelqu'un M'a Dit by Carla Bruni

19. Do you know anyone named Steven?
Not personally.

It Stops With Me by the Hotclub of Cowtown

20. Do you make your own words?
Yes. It started with my sister when we were little. She couldn’t say God Bless You when someone sneezed so we started saying “Ooh Shom-blay-shen”, and it stuck.

M.O.R. by Blur - Sorry! Can't seem to upload this one.

21. Are you a jealous person?
No.

All Alone by Gorillaz

22. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter 'A'.
Amy

Estrellita by Esquivel

23. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter 'K'.
Kelly with the beautifully trained operatic singing voice.

Ivo by The Cocteau Twins

24. Who's the first person on your received call list?
My cousin Julie

Kisses In Vain by The Cigar Store Indians

25. What does the last text message you received say?
I have never used text messaging because I am old.

It Ain't Right by Ray Condo and His Richochets

26. Do you chew on the straw?
What? No.

When the Rainbow Comes by World Party

27. Do you have curly hair?
My hair is poker straight.

Hey There Fancy Pants by Ween

28. What's the next place you're going to?
The powder room.

Unnecessarily Mercenary by Bonnie Raitt

29. Who's the rudest person in your life?
My brother in law, Knucklehead.

Kool Thing by Sonic Youth

30. What was the last thing you ate?
A Rosemary & Olive Oil Tricuit with a little cottage cheese on it.

Sunflowers by Wynton Marsalis Septet

31. Will you get married in the future?
It is my goal not to, unless MDH and I renew our vows or something.

In the Backseat by Arcade Fire

32. What was the best movie you've seen in past 2 weeks?
I rewatched The Shining last night, and watched Topsy-Turvy last week.

Movies of Myself by Rufus Wainwright

33. Is there anyone you like right now?
I have no idea how a married woman over the age of 35 should answer this question.

Bullet by Frank Black & The Catholics

34. When was the last time you did the dishes?
Two hours ago.

Sweet Thursday by Pizzicato Five

35. Are you currently depressed?
No

Our Love Is Here To Stay by Dinah Washington

36. Did you cry today?
No

Love Is A Losing Game by Amy Winehouse

37. Why did you answer and post this?
Because I like Constant Drama and wouldn't want to let her down.

Jackson by Johnny Cash & June Carter

38. Tag 5 people who would do this.

No. If you wish to, you can tag yourselves.

A Casual Affair by The Style Council

And there you have it. Whew! Putting all these links in here took me a long time so it better have worked. I probably won't share this many songs at the same time again.

In Response To Your Google Search Query #7

Dear Person Who Found My Blog Via The Search Query "iwannabeapornstar",

Good for you!

It's heartwarming to hear from a young person who wants more from life than to sponge off of your parents, go to college or work a thankless and mundane 9 to 5 job. You have a taste for adventure!

Thank goodness you've found my blog!

It is my great pleasure to help you with your career ambitions, as I am an experienced mentor. Although pornography is not really a field that I know very much about I'll give it a whirl. To reassure you of my qualifications, I have recently been single handedly blamed by my sister for talking her daughter, my lovely niece, into dropping out of bible college and questioning her faith in the existence of God. So you are in good hands with me!

With the magic of the inter webs anyone with a web cam, a Pay Pal account and the proper lubricant can be in the business of porn, but alas, not everyone can be a star. I applaud your ambition and your desire to take the road less traveled. The world would be a much nicer place if more people earned a living doing the things they love.

You've got stars twinkling in your eyes so fuck night school classes, Junior Achievement and the Four H club! In fact, if you film it and post it on the Internet, you'll have a head start to reaching those lofty career goals of yours.

Here are some handy tips to help you on your journey:

1. You'll have a lot of competition so you will have to find your "niche". It's easy if you've got a hand mirror. If you haven't got a hand mirror, you can always let the public find your niche for you by having your picture taken by the paparazzo as you remove yourself from a car with no undies on.

2. Get vocal! Hire a voice coach so that you can learn the proper diaphragm exercises to keep those grunts, pantings and orgasmic oohs and aahhs sounding authentic and convincing without running out of steam.

3. Learn yoga. Keep that spine flexible and your chakras aligned. Tap that third eye, if you know what I mean!

4. Give yourself a great new name, something that sounds exotic, yet familiar. Too bad Paris Hilton is already taken!

5. Remember, Practice Makes Perfect.

See you in the movies! Probably not though since I'm not really a big fan of porn, but nonetheless -
Kindest Regards & Best Wishes!
The Lady

How to Disappoint Old People

On Christmas Eve at around, oh 12:30pm ish the phone rang and I saw Uncle Dan's name on the caller ID. I picked up immediately, because Uncle Dan is on my OK to answer list and because I assumed he was calling to confirm that MDH and I were still coming to spend Christmas Day with him and Aunt P. I had my coat on and my car keys in hand, as I was just on my way out the door to buy some last minute items to take with us.

Me: Hey Uncle Dan! What's up?

UD: Hi Darlin'! Where are you?

Me: Oh, you know I was just on my way out the door to get some stuff to bring with us when we come see you tomorrow.

UD: Well we thought you was a comin' today. We been awaitin' for y'all.

Me: What? Oh shit! Uncle Dan I thought you invited us for tomorrow!

UD: No. It was today. We been awaitin', wonderin' where you're at.

Yes. I know from experience exactly what this means. He has been in his coat, sitting in a lawn chair in the driveway in the freezing cold. He waits outside with the garage door open in all weather. I try never to be late.

I blathered apologies while he chuckled and insisted it was all right and that we should come tomorrow at the same planned time, which was 10:30am by the way.

I think back to 2 days previous when I had called Aunt P to confirm that we were coming and double check the day and time. She wasn't home so I had confirmed with Uncle Dan instead. I distinctly remember saying "See you Christmas Day!", before hanging up.

Uncle Dan is 83 and very hard of hearing.

I should've known better than to confirm with Uncle Dan.

I should've called back and talked to Aunt P.

In my family you should always talk to the wife. The wives in my family are always in charge of the festivities and seem to have no hearing problems. My father, Uncle Dan and all their other brothers are deaf as fucking door nails, refuse to get hearing aids, and they all agree to everything because they can't fucking hear a word you are saying to them on the phone.

Above is a picture of me in better days, when my father and all his brothers could still hear and I wasn't in charge of anything or keeping any one waiting outside in the freezing cold. (Did anyone else have a "Mrs. Beasley" dress?)

Dream a Little Dream - An iPod Meme

You know how the saying goes. If you love something (or someone), set it free and if it loves you, it'll come back. Well, my iPod loves me, because it came back. I sent it away to HP for repairs at a cost of $75 and it arrived back into my loving hands, just in time for our car trip to Uncle Dan and Aunt P's tomorrow.

I've missed it so.

Weird though, I think they just packed up a new one, or at least gave me a new casing, because it's all shiny and new looking, totally free of scratches and my grimy fingerprints. I'm also pretty sure it's got a different serial number. So in honor of it's return, I did an iPod meme that I found a few weeks ago at Some Goofy Woman's blog.

1. Put your music player on Shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER WHAT (this is in capital letters, so it is very serious. [Not my comment, but I concur.])

The iPod Sez:

1. IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY” YOU SAY?
Muleskinner Blues by Deke Dickerson
I was really pleased with this song as the answer.

2. WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
The Quarterdrawing of the Dog by Siouxsie & The Banshees
This is an instrumental and not one of my favorites, but it’s actually kind of appropriate as it’s dark but hopeful.

3. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Darling You and I Are Through by Hotclub of Cowtown
One of my favorite songs by this band, and a good answer to the question as it’s about a girl who likes to feel special and breaks up when she doesn’t.

4. HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Ship of Fools by World Party
I’m always in the mood for this song.

5. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
Tombstone by Suzanne Vega
OK – it’s true. I do like a tombstone and I do try to see the kingdom every now and then.

6. WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
I’m Just a Killer for Your Love by Blur
Well, I am a people pleaser, but I’m more likely to cook to get your love than kill for it. Maybe in my case it's refering to roasted meats, my specialty.

7. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Sightsee MC! by Big Audio Dynamite
It’s up to them to make comments about this songs relation to the question. Amy once told me my theme song was the music played in the Wizard of Oz whenever they show the Wicked Witch or the mean old lady furiously pedaling her bicycle.

8. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Vivaldi Concerto in B Flat Major for Cello, RV423, II. Largo by Yo-Yo Ma & Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra
Well it freaked me out when this popped up in answer to the question. It’s so, so sad, but has these really loving undertones. It doesn’t sound like a scotch on the rocks at all. I thought for sure a better song answer would be Caviar & Chittlin's by the Atomic Fireballs, because they wash it all down with Scotch. Then I remembered that it's just a stupid meme.

9. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Carve That Possum by Southern Culture On the Skids
I really don't think of roadkill that often, but it’s a good song just the same.

10. WHAT IS 2+2?
Mizz Bed-Stuy by Brooklyn Funk Essentials
I’m not sure I understand the question or the answer, but I was happy to hear the song.

11. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Piece by Imani Coppola
Wow! This was interesting that this song came up. It’s scary accurate because I’m always wishing for her to have inner peace.

12. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Bayou Blue by Big Sandy & His Fly-Rite Boys
I’m assuming this question has to do with high school kind of “like”, which I’m way to old to fuck around with, plus I’m a married gal. So if we’re talking about my husband, he does have “raven hair and big brown eyes” and we share a mutual love of Big Sandy.

13. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Bring On the Dancing Horses by Echo & The Bunnymen
I’m not sure how this works out, but at least it wasn’t Vivaldi again.

14. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
There’s a House In Harlem For Sale by Ray Condo & His Richochets
Typical, another instrumental. So unless I take my answer from the song title and say realtor, I guess I’ll never know.


15. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE
Little Motel by Modest Mouse
Again, married, but fairly accurate because we spend so much time apart.

16. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Twenty Questions by The Beastie Boys
Cool song answer: “Are we intrinsically separate beings? Or could we possibly be parts of the same thing?”

17. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Fighting In a Sack by The Shins
OK this song title in answer to the question made me laugh really hard. Too late though, already married and I'm not sure the Shins were around then. Thank goodness there were lots of other songs for us to dance to.

18. WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Two Birds by G. Love
I’d be OK with this as a funeral song.

19. WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Level by The Raconteurs
I do think of myself as an amateur psychologist.

20. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Pink Thing by XTC
I have no baby secrets. This song is about a love for a baby I've come to find out. Previously I though it might be about a penis. Nope, I was wrong. I went out there and found the lyrics and I'm pleased to note that he does NOT say "Pink thing, sit on my face" as I had previously believed. It's actually "spit in my face" which for some reason isn't much better.

21. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Hersham Boys by Sham 69
Again, not really. We're we were never called "cockney cowboys", but I'm sure most of us have corduroys and lace up boots in the closet.

22. WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS?
Dream A Little Dream by The Beautiful South
Allrighty.

The Facts According to Me

1. If you have an irritating song stuck in your head on a loop it can be overridden by humming Safety Dance to yourself. If Safety Dance is the irritating song stuck in your head then you must shoot yourself. If shooting yourself is not a viable option then you must sing Safety Dance out loud so that it becomes stuck in the head of someone else as well, because misery loves company.

2. It's not OK to borrow my chaptick so don't even ask. (There are very few exceptions to this - Rachel, Steph, Amy, Becky J, Aria and Playtah, although Playtah would never ask, she could if she wanted to.)

3. The drive up teller or ATM is not the proper place to do your international banking. At least I assume that is what you are doing since it is taking so very fucking long for you to perform your transactions while I sit steaming behind you waiting my turn to withdraw a paltry $20.

4. This one goes out to all you Lonely Hearts (the singles and the marrieds) who may not be getting laid regularly: Taking a nice poo is better than having bad sex*. So keep your bowels healthy and eat lots of foods rich in fiber.

5. Visa is a multinational corporation with an enormous advertising budget who are trying to turn a buck and make you feel guilty with those horrible commercials. They are wrong and it is perfectly OK to pay for things with cash.



*I cannot take credit for this idea - It's from Dave Eggers book You Shall Know Our Velocity. He didn't say poo though, probably shit or dump.

The Die Is Cast and I Am a Wuss

A few weeks ago I got a call from my elderly Aunt P. Naturally I was furious with MDH for answering the phone in the first place, but Aunt P keeps it short. I like that quality in elderly aunt type people.

Unfortunately Aunt P was calling on behalf of herself and my Uncle Dan to invite me and MDH to their house for Christmas Day.

Shit.

They just recently moved back to Michigan earlier this year from Boca and now live a 2.5 hour drive from us. We have been down to visit once this fall and had a great day. But it was not Christmas and it was not winter and snowy out. It was fall and kind of warm and didn't start to get dark until around 8pm.

Aunt P said that she and Uncle Dan were hosting their children and grandchildren and would love it if we could come too. She told me what time and that I didn't need to bring anything except "your precious self my darlin' girl!", and then hung up without waiting for an answer as to whether or not MDH and I already had plans.

We don't, officially.

Unless you count sleeping in and watching TV in our underpants while we have Bloody Mary's and shrimp cocktail for brunch as plans. These are our Christmas traditions I realize they are very similar to the way we spend most weekends around here except for the Bloody Mary's and the shrimp, but I had been counting them as plans. MDH is no help. He doesn't care what we do.

It's awfully difficult to explain that to your sweet little 80 year old auntie who sounded so hopeful on the phone and you know desperately wants you to visit and calls you "precious darlin' girl". Besides, like I said, she hung up before I could say no.

Today I decided to stand firm and called her back to let her know we wouldn't be coming. She wasn't home so I talked to Uncle Dan. I started to tell him about the underpants plans and the shrimp cocktails, but I couldn't get the words out before he started telling me how thrilled he was to be seeing us for Christmas and how Aunt P had already started baking pies. He called me "darlin'" too.

Shit.

I told him that weather permitting, we would try to be there by 10am. Which means, of course that we will have to leave by 7:30am.

Shit.

The best I could come up with was that we would have to leave before dark because MDH and I have really bad night vision (it's true!).

At this point there is no turning back. You cannot make holiday visitation commitments to aunts and uncles well into their 80's and then back out. Well, you can but then (if you are me) you will feel like...

Shit.

Because I Was Wrong and Turnabout Is Fair Play

Yesterday on kind of a whim and to very mixed reactions, I posted a picture I had found a long time ago. I can't remember what train of thought I was following, but I typed the word "ugly" in a Google Images search. I never looked at the web page upon which it was originally posted by someone else. It did occur to me that perhaps the original poster wasn't being very nice, since it was listed under "ugly".

The picture I posted is of a young woman with buck teeth, what appears to be a lazy eye and a sweet smile on her face, all dolled up for some kind of formal sorority type of yearbook photo. Her hair is piled high in a Loretta Lynn style swoopy bunned do, formal off the shoulder gown, big giant 80's era gold earrings and dark red lipstick. It was not the kind of photo I had been looking for, but I saved it anyway, because it made me smile and yes, giggle too.

The photo in question has been sitting in a photo file folder for about 5 months or so. I see it every time I scan through those pictures. Every time I see it, it makes me smile.

I don't smile at it because I think the young woman is ugly. I smile at it because she has a lot working against her and she made serious effort. The big hair with crooked bangs, the big gold earrings, bright red lipstick.

I smile at it because there are days when I feel so unattractive that I can barely get out of bed, let alone put on lipstick, fix my hair and feel beautiful enough to have my picture taken. Most of the time I walk around in life feeling pretty cute, but I'm still grounded enough in reality to know that I'll never make People Magazines list of beautiful people. I'm OK with that. But there are days...

Anyhoo...

An anonymous commenter left me this about it:

I didn't even notice her bangs. If the girl in the photo happens upon this blog she won't think you are making fun of her bangs either, but her unfortunate lazy eye that she can't do anything about. Jesus. You should post a current picture of yourself before you post pictures of strangers.

In my post I said that I didn't think the woman was ugly, because I don't. Nor did I mention anything about a lazy eye, which she may or may not actually have. I did mention that her bangs were noticeably crooked.

Anonymous is right though, I should post a current picture of myself before I post pictures of strangers. And here it is:

This is me - today - this morning as a matter of fact - after I first woke up and read the anonymous comment.

This is what I look like when I don't smile, have on no make up and have just rolled out of bed. I haven't had my tea yet either.

My hair is not half bad in this photo, but I promise you I haven't combed it. Besides if you saw it from the back you'd see that it's wrecked, but it's hard to take a picture from that angle so you'll have to take my word for it. I am fat as a goddamn bear, have blotchy skin, red rimmed sleep deprived eyes with unlovely bags under them. I'm also noticing for the first time today that my upper lip has disappeared and that my nose is oddly shaped.

I have taken yesterday's post down and will never put it up again. I had mixed feelings after posting it anyway, but I guess I was thinking that, well, I don't know what I was thinking.

I know I don't look very sorry in this photo, but trust me I really am..

Who knows, maybe somebody else will do a Google Images search for "ugly" and come across my picture here.

I'll tell you what Anonymous, it's awfully hard to push that publish button when it's a nasty picture of myself, but here goes...

5 Things That Never Disappoint Me

Rebecca at r-cubed strikes again! Although she didn't tag me she did inspire me to post about more positive stuff for a change. Since I'm in need these days of a little extra lightness of being, I decided to just keep the list going after five. So here are 8 Things That Never Disappoint Me:

1. Looking at our photos, old and new. I can sit for hours sifting through them all. Here is a picture I took of some flowers on the front porch of our old house in Victorian Village.

2. Having a house with a driveway and a garage. Prior to living in our current home I’d always lived in apartments and with MDH in the city where it was a miracle just to have off street parking. Our last house had two off street parking spaces, but out front was permit only, for which the city allowed us one parking pass. Having over more than one guest at a time was stressful as we scrambled around to our neighbors asking to borrow theirs for the night. It’s terrific to not have to scrape snow off of the car or get wet as we come or go.

3. Owning my own washer and dryer has never ceased to delight me. We have an awesome stackable set that we bought 6 years ago when we bought our first house together. Sometimes I miss the laundramat, just a little, but only because you can do all of your laundry at once if you got the timing just right and the place was empty. But I much prefer being able to do one load at a time in my own home.

4. The movies Howard’s End and A Room With a View – they are an entire half of my personal DVD collection. The other two movies I own are Amadeus and The Philadelphia Story, but those two Merchant Ivory productions are the only movies that I will watch over and over and never tire of.

5. My nieces and nephews, ages 14 through 22. I adore them. They are not technically my nieces and nephews, but their mother, my closest cousin J who is five years older than me, and I spent a lot of time together growing up and always wished we were sisters. When we were teenagers we agreed that I should be called “Aunt Lady” to her children since my sister would never have children, I wouldn’t get to be an aunt otherwise. Her kids have turned out so wonderfully, I’m proud of every one of them. I could cry out with joy right now, just thinking of them.

6. Hydrangeas

7. Gazing at my diamond engagement ring. It probably seems a little shallow, but it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned and although I’ve had it on my finger for about 6 years I never get tired of looking at it. It’s a gorgeous 1.3 carat oval cut with D color as clear as water in a platinum setting. Most importantly reminds me at every moment that I am loved by MDH. He presented it to me in our first apartment over a box of Chinese take out we were eating over the sink after work on a Wednesday and it was one of the best nights of my life.

8. The B52’s Song for a Future Generation always makes me smile. "Hi! My name is Lady and I am a Cancer. I LOVE hydrangeas and snorkeling."
Here is the video - Enjoy!

And Now a Story About Assface...

My best friend Amy had a day in court with her ex-husband Assface today. They have been divorced for over a year, and yet the court battles continue. Their court dates, as I'm sure is the case with many divorces, are costly, frustrating and laborious. She called me while she was driving to the courthouse. She seemed calm and collected and said she would call me and let me know how it all shook out.

I don't normally loathe people, but I loathe Assface more than any other person on this earth. He is a mean spirited little weasel who makes two people I love very much, Amy and their daughter LBL, miserable. It often seems he goes out of his way to do so.

I didn't always loathe Assface. In fact I used to like him, back in the salad days when they were dating and first married. He was kind of weird, but I didn't worry about that too much because Amy is weird, and really for that matter who isn't weird? Certainly I can't point too many of my own fingers at people for being weird. I'm typically a big fan of the weird, being a total freak myself.

Mainly I liked him because he seemed to think the world of her. He laughed at all her jokes and could never seem to take his eyes off of her. He was in love with her made her happy.

Isn't that all you need to know about your best friend's choice in a partner?

After they were married I began to notice all kinds of little things about him that added up to nutty and mean. Not a fabulous combination.

I was able to ignore the nutty meanness for awhile as I didn't really have that much interaction with him anyway, other than when he answered the phone when I called. I always made an effort to engage him in some bit of conversation before asking to speak to Amy. Eventually even having to talk to him for those brief moments when he answered the phone became awkward and for a time, during a phase he went through that Amy and I refer to as his "Hello Period", down right bizarre. The last thing on earth that I wanted was to dislike her husband, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

During his "Hello Period", whenever Assface answered the phone he'd say, "Hello!", all bright and cheery like. I'm sure you're thinking "so what Lady?" Here's what:

Ring! Ring!

Assface (bright and cheery): Hello?

Me (bright and cheery): Hey Assface! How's it going?

Assface: Hello?

Me: Hello?

Assface: Hello?

Me: Hey? Can you hear me?

Assface: Hello!

At this point I realize that there is nothing wrong with the phone, he can hear me just fine and thinks he is making a funny.

Me (laughing): Very funny Assface. C'mon now, please? Is Amy there?

Assface: Hello?

Me (sort of fake chuckling): Seriously. Assface. Is she there? Is she busy? Can I talk to her?

Assface: Hello! Hello! Hel-lo! Hello?

Me (fuming on the inside, but still trying to sound sunny): Allrighty. Jokes over. Please let me talk to Amy.

Assface: Hello?

and so on...

It may have been funny if he'd done it once or twice, but this continued for weeks and the only way it stopped was if Amy happened to enter the room, hear his asinine "Hello?" bombardment and snatch the phone away from him.

I might have taken it personally too if Amy hadn't told me that he was doing it to everyone. His mother, her mother, the insurance guy, everyone. Nutjob. He thought it was HI-Larious. Amy, of course was mortified and began to bust her ass whenever the phone rang, in a race to answer it before he could.

It ended the day I responded to his "Hello?" bombardment with this:

Me: Listen to me you hollowed out little freak, either put Amy on the phone this instant and stop acting like a fucking brain damaged parrot or I will drive over to your house and stab you in the eye with my car keys! You're making it very difficult for me to continue to like you and you are making your wife miserable.

My relationship with Assface was on shaky ground ever since.

She called me later this evening, while I was in the middle of typing this post. She won. He owes big. Hurray. Go buy yourself a Big Mac, honey.

I'm Calling from a Pole Outside Your Window

Since becoming an adult I set boundaries with my family that have allowed me great freedom that not all of my friends are able to enjoy. I have the ability to say "No. I'm not coming." when invited to family gatherings.

You're probably jealous, I know.

It's no longer an issue as my parents and most of the rest of my family have scattered over the years to various parts around the US. Back in the day though, we all lived within a few hours drive from each other and most of us lived in the same city.

It began with a career in retail when I was in my early twenties and I had the best excuse ever that no parent of a 20 year old could argue with:

I have to work.

It's an especially effective excuse to use on the parents of young adults who are simply thrilled, and quite proud, to have you the hell out of the house, let alone working and supporting yourself. I became the go-to girl for taking over my co-worker's holiday shifts. No problem. You would like to spend the holidays with your family and I would not. Sure! I'll cover for you.

Over time the expectation of my absence or limited attendance at family gatherings was set.

Later, when I started working office jobs I began to plan my own events well in advance of any family gathering my parents were hosting (it was always at their house) and could say, "Oh shoot! I already made plans but I can stop by for awhile." Everyone wins.

I never quite understood why my attendance was so important anyway.

My extended family is huge. My father has 7 brothers and sisters and 10 step-siblings who all have large families of their own. So my parents house on holidays was always brimming over with aunts, uncles, cousins, 2nd cousins, boyfriends, girlfriends, fiances.

It was a noisy, alcohol driven mess and to me not much different than being in a crowded bar, surrounded by merry drunks, when you are sober, unsociable and don't know a soul (not that I knew what that was like back then, except for the unsociable part). Sure the greetings are terrific, I love the hugs and kisses, and I'm certain my family loves me as I do them, but after the exuberant hellos, I was also pretty sure that nobody noticed or gave a crap if I was there or not.

Invariably I would end up just following everyone around and clean up after them, like the dude with the giant shovel at a circus.

Once when I was a teenager with no work excuses I tried a little experiment. I did all of the greetings and huggy stuff that was expected and then took off to the basement with my walkman (remember cassette tapes?) and it took over two and a half hours before anyone noticed I was gone and came looking for me. It was my mother, asking me to take out the trash.

My little sister, wise beyond her disability and years, disliked the noisy family gatherings too and could often be found holed up in her room with her TV at top volume and the door shut tight in an effort to drown out all the noise and escape from the cigarette smoke. She got free a pass from it I guess because she had Down's Syndrome and a nervous condition. Lucky!

My dislike of family gatherings probably started the year that I sang on Christmas Eve in the children's choir of the Methodist church down the street. We weren't members of that church, or any other, but they let me sing there. I don't remember how old I was, but I had my first solo so it was important that I be there.

The same night my family was all gathering at my parents house. My mom came to see me sing, so my dad stayed at home to open the door and greet everyone and take over my mother's duties as hostess for a couple of hours. Well he did a hell of a job.

Every year my aunt Jess, who lived far away, would send a ton of presents for me and my little sister that came in the mail weeks before Christmas. They would sit there, beautifully wrapped, winking at us. We were allowed to open two of them on Christmas Eve. One of our own choosing and the other of Mother's choosing because it contained new pajamas to wear for the Christmas pictures the next morning. Mother was in cahoots with Jess and knew what was in every one of them and enjoyed teasing me about it to no end.

This particular year she gave me hints by telling me the initials of one present that was enormous and oddly shaped. Enormous and oddly shaped presents, especially when beautifully wrapped are the ones I think we all tend to want to open first and get the most excited about.

To my mother's delight, by the time Christmas Eve rolled around I was whipped into a frenzy and nearly frantic with anticipation.

She took me to my Christmas choir concert, leaving Dad alone in the house tending to all of the family guests. Namely, my cousins, whom despite the efforts and protestations of his visiting sisters, my aunts and the mothers of the unruly tots, he allowed to open our presents from aunt Jess. All of them.

My mother and sister and I returned home to find a living room full of joyous mayhem. Wrapping paper and ribbons in shreds falling like confetti, my cousin J lounging empirically on MY Red Bean Bag Chair (the BBC), my little cousin D playing with MY Cher doll and my cousin T holding a pair of "I Dream of Jeannie" pajamas up to her gawky frame as if about to try them on. All of them having a grand old time. It is a vision that (obviously) still haunts my dreams.

Of course my mother privately berated my father mercilessly and made him apologize to us. Apparently, the beautiful presents from aunt Jess were mesmerizing my cousins too, and naturally they wanted to open them. My dad also has a hard time saying no to his family. I had to be a good sport about it and not complain, but the next morning I was still sore (I guess I still am, eh?) and refused to open my presents from Santa. Of course I opened them eventually, begrudgingly.

Anyhoo... the point of this post - and the reason for the title of this post(from an old Jake Johannsen comedy bit): When my friends are suffering through holiday gatherings with their various families in various locations around the US, I am usually safely at home and available as a support line. I'm like a holiday family gathering crisis center. 1-800-LadyHelpMe.

One year my best friend Amy called me in the middle of hosting the family of her ex-husband Assface at her house for a July 4th extended gathering. She called me from her bedroom closet, as she was curled up on the floor, crying. Sobbing really. Her house guests were unruly and she wasn't allowed to say anything or put anything to rights because Assface refused to allow her to do so. He didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

After 3 days of soaking wet bathing suited adults and children sitting on her sofa, chocolate covered children wiping their mouths on white seat cushions, and backwoods hoo-haws not knowing how to or refusing to use the garbage disposal so that her dogs were constantly digging into the trash barrel and carting around chicken bones, poor Amy was at her wit's end. Or so she thought.

The final straw, resulting in her fetal positioned, tearful phone call to me from the bedroom closet, the only refuge she was able to find in her own home, was having gone into the one bathroom in their home and finding shit, as in human feces, smeared on the wall.

She has called me from any other number of family gatherings at her mother's house when she gets together with her own family as well. Not from incidents with feces, although I'm sure she's wanted to throw some, but more from a controlling (pre and eventually post) menopausal mother throwing inappropriate and hurtful barbs. The shit on the wall was really the climax of the family gathering incidents and will most likely, hopefully, never be topped. In the age of cell phones, she has been known to call me from her car or other various locations where she has managed to escape.

It has become the tradition between Amy and me, at the end of the last phone call we have before she leaves to spend a holiday gathering with her family, for me to say, "Call me from the closet if you need to!"

I am happy to help.

Above is a picture of me, in better days, when the presents were all mine and I was too little to get drunk or hold a broom. Somehow I still managed to look irritated.

Ole! Ole! I Have Nothing Good To Say...

There is still no word about the job I was interviewing for so hot and heavy last week. Basically I'm pacing around the house, cooking random shit that nobody here needs to be eating, like cookies, brownies and for some reason, I guess to counteract all of the sugar or perhaps because I watched the movie Selena yesterday, guacamole. In addition, I've been cleaning cleaning cleaning.

I haven't been this crazed in quite awhile. I guess I'm getting a lot of housework and laundry done but I'm about ready to drop kick the cat if he doesn't leave the fucking Christmas tree alone. At first it was cute, but after having straightened out the tree skirt for the kabillionth time and busting him drinking the tree water every time I walk through the living room, I'm seriously considering taking the goddamn tree down and beating him with it.

Anyway... this is the post you get today. Grumpy, self loathing but sparkling and disinfected with a hint of cilantro and lime.

I suppose technically that now would be a perfect time for a party. The house is clean, I've got plenty of food, but I don't think I could be a very good hostess right now.

Happy f-ing holidays.

Stephie's Corner

Buon giorno!

I'm sort of posting a guest blog today. My friend Steph sent me a little do-hickey all about Italian Kids VS American Kids. She's Italian and MDH is an even mixture of Italian and Portuguese. Steph's husband, my very good friend, Dan and I couldn't be more WASP-y. We are constantly comparing how alike she and MDH are to how alike Dan and I are. It's weird.

It's only a "sort of" guest post because I'm changing it ever so slightly and adding in a couple of disclaimers. Also instead of Italian Kids v. American Kids it'll be called Steph & MDH v. Dan & Lady. In case you didn't notice - it's colored like the Italian flag.

Subject: Dan & Lady v. Steph & MDH

Dan & Lady: Move out when they're 18 with the full support of their parents.
Steph & MDH: Move out when they're 28, having saved enough money for a house, and are two weeks away from getting married...unless there's room in the basement for the newlyweds. (Untrue! MDH moved out when he was 17 and never looked back.)

Dan & Lady: When their Mom visits them, she brings a Bundt cake, and you sip coffee and chat. (Untrue! My mother has never been to my house.)
Steph & MDH: When their Mom visits them, she brings 3 days worth of food, begins to tidy up, dust, do the laundry, and rearrange the furniture.

Dan & Lady: Their Dads always call before they come over to visit them,and it's usually only on special occasions. (Untrue! My dad has never been to my house.)
Steph & MDH: Are not at all fazed when their Dad shows up, unannounced, on a Saturday morning at 8:00, and starts pruning the fruit trees. If there are no fruit trees, he'll plant some. (Untrue! MDH hasn't seen or spoken to his father since he was 4 years old.)

Dan & Lady: Always pay retail, and look in the Yellow Pages when they need to have something done.
Steph & MDH: Call their Dad or Uncle, and ask for another dad's or uncle's phone number to get it done...Cash deal. Know what I mean??

Dan & Lady: You'll come over for cake and coffee, and get only cake and coffee. No more. (Untrue! I live to feed the masses.)
Steph & MDH: You'll come over for cake and coffee, and get antipasto, wine, a pasta dish, a choice of two meats, salad, bread, a cannoli, fruit, espresso, and a few after dinner drinks.

Dan & Lady: Will greet you with "Hello" or "Hi". (Untrue! I'm very big on the hugs and kisses.)
Steph & MDH: Will give you a big hug, a kiss on your cheek, and a pat on your back.

Dan & Lady: Call your parents Mr. and Mrs.
Steph & MDH: Call your parents Mom and Dad.

Dan & Lady: Have never seen you cry.
Steph & MDH: Cry with you.

Dan & Lady: Borrow your stuff for a few days and then return it.
Steph & MDH: Keep your stuff so long, they forget it's yours.

Dan & Lady: Will eat at your dinner table and leave. (Untrue!)
Steph & MDH: Will spend hours there, talking, laughing, and just being together.

Dan & Lady: Know few things about you.
Steph & MDH: Could write a book with direct quotes from you.

Dan & Lady: Eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on soft mushy white bread. (Untrue! I eat my PB&J on nine grain bread.)
Steph & MDH: Eat Genoa Salami and Provolone sandwiches, Rabe sandwiches and Meatball and Pepper sandwiches on crusty Italian bread.

Dan & Lady: Will leave you behind if that's what the crowd is doing.
Steph & MDH: Will kick the whole crowds' ass who left you behind.

Dan & Lady: Are Friends for a while. (Untrue! Dan and I are very loyal friends.)
Steph & MDH: Are Friends for life.

Dan & Lady: Like Rod Stewart and Steve Tyrell. (Untrue! I don't even know who Steve Tyrell is and while I don't worship Bennet and Sinatra I enjoy their song stylings very much.)
Steph & MDH: Worship Tony Bennett and Sinatra.

Dan & Lady: Will ignore this. (Untrue! I have posted it on my blog!)
Steph & MDH: Will forward it. (Untrue! MDH hates this kind of stuff.)

When Dan and Steph were visiting for Thanksgiving I put Steph up to a challenge. I have asked her to write a guest post about her horrible mother-in-law. Yes. Dan's mother is horrible. Trust me when I tell you that Steph has cornered the market on horrible mothers-in-law. Don't worry about Dan, he knows it. So if you leave comments on this post please also include some begging and pleading to Stephanie to please, please write a guest post about her experience with her weirdo mother-in-law last Thanksgiving. It is her story to tell so I cannot write it for her.

Steph - Dammi questo! Sbrigati!!

I Hope the Path To Enlightenment Is Heavily Sprayed With Pesticides

Rebecca, a new commenter on my blog has uncovered the true path to my heart (giving me new opportunities to talk about myself) and tagged me. Thanks Rebecca! She has tagged me to share 7 facts about myself.

1. I love White Castle. There, I’ve said it. I don’t eat there, or at any fast food establishment very often, but there are moments when I crave them like nobody’s business. MDH, and many other very smart people with discerning tastes find them disgusting and I heartily agree, but there are times when nothing else will do. It’s probably for the best interest of my arteries and breath that we don’t have them in Grand Rapids. Ordinarily I don’t think about it much, but I’m kinda hungry right now.

2. I love my car. It’s not fancy or anything, but it’s paid for, it goes really fast and has an excellent sound system. Several years ago I was able to pick out any car I wanted regardless of price, co-signature or opinion. Prior to that someone else had always been involved and I ended up with cars I was supremely unhappy with. I will happily drive this car until it falls apart.

3. There are tubes and tubs of lip balm stashed away in every one of my coat pockets, desk drawers, junk drawers and crevices within arms reach of my favored spots around the house and our cars. For me it’s either Burt’s Bees or Blistex Lip Medix (in the dark blue tub). No others will do. Somehow, my lips are still cracked and chapped. Almost every time I do laundry, the sound of an errant lip balm can be heard tumbling around in the spin cycle. I always hope to catch it before it goes into the dryer and makes a big waxy mess.

4. I weigh myself every single day. Twice. Once when I first get up and again after I’ve, well, you know. This has been my habit for about 10 years. I love it when a hotel has a bathroom scale so that I can weigh myself when I’m traveling too. Hardly any hotels that we can afford to stay in have bathroom scales.

5. I have a really strong stomach for blood and guts. It’s probably from working in vet clinics for so long, but I was kind of like that before. There are a few things that get to me, but even still I don’t get too pukey. I’m also a handy person to have around in an emergency because I don’t freak out until after the moment has passed. Now after having said all that here are a few exceptions: dead birds, mice (living or dead), other people’s snot (I’m cool with my own). If you come after me with any of those things I will scream like a girl.

6. People who don’t take care of their pets properly; don’t take them to the vet regularly, don’t train them properly, leave them outside all the time, don’t get them spayed or neutered, piss me off. My cousin’s husband (such an asshole) claims to “breed” St. Bernards, but he really just has a kennel full of sad drooling giant dogs that hardly ever get petted or loved. He treats them like livestock and they pee themselves and jump all over you whenever you go near them, thus making people less likely to ever come near to pet or love on them.

7. I hate camping or doing anything that may cause me to get a tick, require me to go without bathing or wearing make-up or relieve myself outdoors. I don’t mind a good day of hiking, biking or other outdoorsy activities that might make me sweat (I can always wear waterproof make-up), but don’t ask me to do those things and then not have a proper shower or flushing toilet. I’ll take a fully plumbed cabin or a room at the lodge please.

Rebel that I am, I'm not going to tag anyone else, but hope that you will take it upon yourselves to meme at will. (Tara, I know you are good for these, and how about you Evil-E, are you up for it? - you guys are semi-tagged).

The Cold Tub

Here is a picture of what you would see if you stood on my front porch and faced east.

And here is a picture of what you would see if you were standing on my back porch, hovering near the door. It's our sad, broken hot tub, now a home for wayward bunnies. One of my deepest desires on this earth is to make the hot tub go away. I hate it.

Hey! Looky there, our neighbors house on the other side of the fence. Hi Neighbors! Can you see me? I can see you. Hey... I like that stylin' robe, very nice. Are those new slippers? Tres chic. Me? Oh, no. These are the same flourescent green pj pants as always. What? Oh, yes. Absolutely. I'm wearing a sports bra this morning. Of course, it's my pleasure. You're welcome.

Lady Hates On Everyone Hard

It's amazing how a little blog post on a Saturday morning can make me feel like enough of of a jackass to motivate me to get out and do stuff. Like all I needed to snap out of my inertia was type it out and read my brand of lazy insanity on a screen.

Embarrassment is a fabulous cattle prod.

That's how I was able to run a comb across my fat head, pull on the closest pair of jeans and leave the house to buy some food to feed my family.

Yes. My family only consists of me, my husband and an enormous house cat, but the small size of our nuclear family unit doesn't dismiss me from my duties. In fact, I feel as though I'm obligated to perform this task to an even higher standard of quality, than say one might hold a normal wife with a few children up against. I seldom, if ever, let my family down.

Yes. What I'm trying to say here is that I deserve a fucking award for leaving the house today to go food shopping. I'm back now and it was like battling the forces of evil all by myself.

I decided to stay close to home, because the roads are kind of bad today, so I went to Overpricey's in the glitzy neighborhood down the street.

The experience was every bit as unrewarding as I thought it would be, starting with the overwhelming number of elderly people who seemed to be out food shopping today in droves, taking up 3 parking spaces, blocking the aisles, standing around chatting, and generally being a nuisance indoors and out.

When I worked in retail, every Wednesday we had what was called "Senior Citizen's Day" where anyone 65 or older, with valid ID could get 5% off of their purchases. I'm pretty sure this was to keep the seniors from irritating the shit out of everyone else on a busy shopping day like Saturday. Also for safety reasons, so that the aisles are not clogged with slowpoke fogies who stand around chatting and sniffing melons, when normal people are trying to get shit done. We'd all be stuck behind them in case of fire and die of smoke inhalation (how's that melon smellin' now bitch?). More likely though, one of them may be injured when a tightly wound, impatient lady who hates to leave the house, knocks them over like bowling pins with her shopping cart.

Saturday may be the nanny's and the maid's day off I think, as I have never witnessed so many silvery blue Lexus/Mercedes/SchmancyCar coups, in the parking lot (there were 3) and empty trophy wife souls (uncountable) wandering the aisles with noisy, designer outfitted tots, on a Monday which is my usual food shopping day. Trophy wives also tend to clog up the aisles, as they do not normally frequent the grocery store and don't know where or what the fuck anything is.

I had a list and I stuck to it. A miracle. Over all things went pretty OK. I found what I wanted and when it was time to leave the checkout wasn't too crowded, although the woman in line in front of me asked to have 3 of the items she purchased (little trees and plants) gift wrapped. So I had to stand around and wait while that happened. (Yeah. It's a fancy pants grocery store.) Otherwise, it was not bad.

Then, in the checkout line, while waiting for the completion of the tree wrapping, I noticed a huge pile up of poofy haired, silicone boobed Barbie's in ski jackets and fur lined gloves waiting by the door and realized that they were all waiting for the grocery valets, the boys/girls who take your purchases out to you car for you. Really ladies? You'd rather stand there like a chump than take your own groceries to the car?

I took out my own damn groceries because I'm made of stronger stuff, although silicone is pretty durable.

Now I'm home, safe, calmly eating cheese crackers and planning tonight's meal. Where's my medal?

The Psycho-Agoraphobic Diet Plan: Stale Saltines & Artichoke Hearts

It's not quite that bad, but our cupboard is rather bare, so a meal of stale crackers and artichoke hearts from a can is not too far removed from the menu possibilities. I despise leaving the house this time of year and often end up talking myself out of it.

I've been putting off grocery shopping, hoping to make it until after the holidays, in an effort to avoid holiday shoppers, overful parking lots and long waits in check out lines. Ridiculous you say? Yes, you are correct. I'm an idiot or possibly agoraphobic. Now I've really fucked up because I've waited all week and now it's Saturday, the absolute worst day for food shopping.

Just in case you were wondering - I overthink everything. My brain is a constant cacaphony of henlike blathering and mapping out crazy schemes to make to make my life easier. It never works, but it goes a little something like this (please don't read the whole thing, just kind of scan over it and notice the crazy, disjointed, constant commentary and it should give you a good feel of what it's like to be me - exhausting):

damn, we're almost out of yogurt. i should put on some pants and go to superfuck's (big box grocery where my favored brand of yogurt is always on sale), but if i go to superfuck's i'd better go on monday so i can avoid the crowds, otherwise you gotta park in siberia and it's supposed to snow today and my car might get plowed in while i'm shopping like it did that one time, and then it'll be in a big filthy snow pile and i won't be able to find the car because the snow pile will muffle the sound when i hit the "panic" button on the fob (what i normally do when i lose the car in giant parking lots), but it's not monday, it's the second to last saturday before x-mas and superfuck's will be really crowded and the shelves will be empty and i'll have to ask for help, because they never have what i want when it's not the second saturday before x-mas, ok, how can I avoid going to superfuck's today? going there always sucks ass, i should call mom, i'll call her later, or should i call her now while i'm thinking about it, fuckit, i'll just send her an email, maybe I can just get a few things to get me through the weekend at overpricey's (the glamourous, fancy expensive grocery store located down the street from us in the glamourous, fancy, expensive suburb we share a zip code with), ok, what pants will i wear, what am i making, i'm making portuguese kale soup, what do i need for that, mainly kale, do they have kale at overpricey's?, and is it decent kale? shit, i bet they don't, there was that one time that boy at the cash register didn't know what avacados were and then when i got them home they were all brown inside, we need kale, maybe i should drive to whole foods (2 and a half hours away in ann arbor), they always have good kale, it might be fun if mdh went with me, we could make a day of it, yeah, we'll got to ann arbor for the day and then i won't need kale at all because i can't make portuguese soup if i'm out of town all day, wait, then the linguica will go to waste, that would suck, that would be crazy to drive all the way to ann arbor for yogurt and kale besides their organic milk is too expensive and waste linguica, no, no i'll just strap on a hard one and go to superfuck's, damn i hate superfuck's, what if i don't make portuguese kale soup today, what then? well, some sausages will go to waste and i can't get linguica anywhere around here, i have to pee, maybe i should go pee, i should clean the bathroom, what would we eat if i didn't make portuguese soup, maybe i should focus on what i do have in the house instead of always focusing on what i don't have, i should try to be a more positive person, i'm alwyas so negative and that's no good, let's go look in the pantry, where the fuck is my good pen, i'm hungry for sweet potatoes, we're almost out of yogurt, ok, we've got black beans, artichoke hearts, how old are those crackers? what smells in here, oh shit sweet potatoes? how long have these been in here? shit i should just strap it on and go to superfucks, what pants should i wear...

So what ends up happening when my fat head gets this overstimulated? NOTHING. I will concoct some crazy meal from scraps and then feel like a crazy lazy shit for not going to the store.

In Response To Your Google Search Query #6

Dear Person Who Found My Blog Via The Search Query "response to being called a monkey's uncle's aunt",

Really?

Aw Sweetie, if you were insulted by this enough to Google for a snappy come back then I'd say you're a tad bit on the sensitive side. Also I think maybe you are too late and the moment has passed and best to just let it go. If you hunt down the person with a come back at this point in time they will think you even more of an inbred simian. It's all right Darlin', let it go.

Besides, coming to my blog for answers may have been a big mistake as I am likely to call you much worse.

Just what kind of backwater, inbred clan of gypsy hillbillies do you live amongst? I'm not saying that as an insult, but more rather wondering if perhaps we are related. You aren't by chance from Kentucky too are you? And if so, what holler? Tell cousin Buell that Lady says, Hey!

Anyhoo...

Having such a strange and yet too familiar brew of DNA, no wonder you weren't able to think quickly enough of a snappy come back.

If you've got an extra chromosome or 3 and someone has insulted your family heritage, I think your best course of action, boring as it may be, is to put down that banana, stand erect and ignore them.

Chin up, head back. Stand proud. Don't let those knuckles drag the ground darling, it's bad for your posture and it'll ruin your manicure.

Yes. Take the high road, don't beat your chest and throw poo. That would just be playing into their game and you shouldn't give them the satisfaction, and besides just who is going to clean up that mess?

If they insist on calling you names, you can always kill them with kindness or a blunt instrument. But if violence isn't your style give them a pie:

Everyone Loves Banana Cream Pie
Ingredients:
1 cup low-fat chocolate wafer cookie crumbs (from about 3 cups cookies)
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon instant espresso powder, dissolved in 1 tablespoon water
1 teaspoon canola oil
2 bananas, sliced
2 tablespoons banana liqueur
1 cup prepared marshmallow cream
7 ounces non-fat whipped topping, thawed
1/4 cup semisweet chocolate shavings

Make cookie crumbs by processing chocolate cookies in a food processor until they yield a fine crumb. Add brown sugar, espresso, and oil and pulse until blended. Press mixture into the bottom and sides of a 9-inch pie pan and set aside.
Peel and thinly slice the bananas. Toss banana slices with the banana liqueur and set aside. In a large bowl, stir the marshmallow cream and whipped topping together. Fold in the banana-liqueur mixture. Spread topping over crust and smooth. Garnish with chocolate shavings, if desired. Refrigerate until chilled, at least 30 minutes.

If they are still mistreating you after eating this then write me back and I'll call in cousin Buell to give them a little talkin' to.

Kindest Regards & Best Wishes!
The Lady


Dear Person Who Found My Blog Via The Search Query "my ankle has been hurting is that a sign of cancer",

How the fuck should I know dickhead? Go to the doctor.

The One That (I) Didn't (Drive) Get Away

I've been reading posts by Killer of Killer Rants about his (hilarious)experiences with online dating, which inspired me to rummage and rummage through my desk drawers in search of the only emails I ever printed (and bothered to save) between me and MDH when we first met 8 years ago on Match.com.

Yes. We are one of those revolting "success" story couples like you see in the commercials.

My handle was "Smarty Pants" but I can't tell you his because he still uses it in his professional endeavors and as an internet politico/pundit/mouth off. Can you believe it? He still has been using the same email address/handle for like 12 years.

I don't remember my exact profile, but it didn't contain a photo or any sexual content whatsoever. The only allusion I made to my looks was to say that I had all my own teeth, had blond hair and green eyes and that I could both see and touch my toes. I mentioned the importance of dental (making sure not to use the word "oral") hygiene and the regular flossing of ones teeth as a requirement to responding to my profile. A hopeless romantic, that's me.

At the time I was over the whole internet dating thing, having tried it vigorously the previous year. Although I'd had a lot of fun and met some interesting and really terrific men folk (an attorney, an English prof, an Historian who had recently published a cool book), I was not too keen on dating anyone because I was busy with school and enjoying an unencumbered lifestyle. I was merely dabbling in order to help a friend who was in a dating slump in order to show her how easy and fun online dating can be. I set up a profile so that she and I could peruse (and giggle over) the profiles of local men in order to (hopefully) prove there were some decent ones out there.

His profile was not impressive to me and seemed really goofy. It mentioned Elvis, a love of Guinness and "Ganja", international travel and being a "Corporate Slug". He wrote to me because my profile came up in his list of possibilities and I lived within a 10 mile radius of his apartment.

Anyhoo...

I'm going to reprint an email that I finally found in my messy desk, that I had written to him after we had corresponded a few times. After a few witty email volleys, I liked him and his writing style, but the email he had written to me prior to the response below contained a lot of sexual innuendo, which wasn't kosher or appropriate given the stage at which our correspondence was developing. I considered myself a real pro at dating, online or otherwise by this time, and knew that I wanted to meet and get to know a real person and not just have some slobbering fool for a quick hook up. I was then and remain, a lady after all.

It's very personal, but what the fuck? You guys know most my business already.

From: autocc@match.com
To: anon.futurehusbandofthelady@match.com
Subject: WTF - Round the Mountain of Passion?? Jesus.

Dear Sir,

What's up with all the "mountain of passion" talk, horndog? Settle down man for god's sake. For all I know you look like Jesse Helms and clean your ears with your car keys, so chill out wouldja please? Besides you're making me blush and go all giggly.

Meanwhile for the less "touchy" topics (he had asked me about musical preferences and clubs I liked): I used to go to Blah Blah (a club he mentioned that he liked) when it was called Blah and located further north across from the Blippity Blah (a crappy diner). As a matter of fact, I used to live right behind it and went there all the time. I've seen so many shows there and the best thing about that place is that it's so small you may get to talk to the band later. I've seen Psychic TV there, They Might Be Giants, Throwing Muses, and many more! But as I'm sure you can guess from that line up, it was quite awhile ago. The last show I saw period, was Squirrel Nut Zippers at the Rhythm & Food Festival downtown, last summer. (Turns out MDH was at the same show and we were only about 10 feet apart.)

What did I read when I was at the lake? A biography of Sara and Gerald Murphy called Everybody Was So Young: A Lost Generation Love Story, and I also re-read a sci-fi selection of short stories by John Varley called The Ophiuchi Hotline. Yes. I'm a geek and I don't care who knows it. The houseboat trip was relaxing, private and secluded and the water was so clean I could see my feet when I was swimming. The water didn't smell like bait either.

What's your story? You seem to be putting down my town (Columbus) all the time, where are you from that's so great? Hmm? (Boston)

What kind of corporate slugging do you do? Do you have one of those weird important sounding titles that doesn't really mean anything and no one is really quite sure what you do? Like Vice President of Bean Counting, Rubberband Balls & Acquisitions? AND do you enjoy whatever it is that you do do?

Where have you done all of this traveling you go on and on about bigshot?

Pets?
Siblings?
Miracle Whip or Mayonnaise?
Coke or Pepsi?
Carpet or hardwood floors?

Who the hell are you anyway? Tell me some personal stuff and lay off the sexy talk.

As far as movies... there are a ton of (hopefully) good ones coming out this fall. Mumford is lookin' pretty good also Fight Club, Inside (or is it Being?) John Malcovich, American Beauty. Anyway, I tend to think movies are a bad idea for dates because you can't really talk, but it's a sure fire way to shut me up for a couple of hours.

I just re-read this one last time before hitting send and I'm hoping that I'm not coming off sounding like Alice from the Brady Bunch. Well, whatever, I'm much cuter than her.

Sincerely,
Ms. S. Pants