Monday Again
I’m amazed that new weeks always begin again. It’s like on Sunday I think maybe the day will last forever. I fall asleep hoping that the night will keep stretching and stretching. But then the alarm rings and it’s Monday morning and I think, ‘Hey. It’s Monday again? How does this keep happening??’
The weekend was packed full and wonderful. I went to my first Mass at the church where both Joe and his mom were baptized. (There was a Mariachi band!) I made a rosary out of coral and turquoise and had it blessed by Father Brown who wore a green felt European flavored hat home after the meeting ended. He took the rosary, prayed over it and dowsed it in Holy Water. Then, for good measure, he dowsed me and Phyllis, Joe’s mom, with a healthy helping of Holy Water as well. I had a mini baptism my very first time at a Catholic church. Joe’s grandmother told me, ‘You may be the only Mormon girl that made her own rosary.’ She might be right. But I’m not really Mormon. And I’m not really Catholic. I don’t know what I am besides me. That’s what I’ve always been.
On the books for this week:
Family and more family. Some work thrown in. Mostly fun.
Trying to enjoy every minute.
I’m still,
leahpeah.
Smarty Pants
In the store yesterday getting ‘green juice’ and goat cheese for lunch. (makes your stomach yearn, doesn’t it?)
Standing behind a young mom with her toddler in the cart.
He looks at me.
I look at him.
‘Boon!’ he says and thrusts his slobbery fist towards me, clutching the string that is attached to a yellow balloon.
I smile.
‘Balloon.’ I say.
His mom turns to me and gives me a shy smile and then gets busy writing out her check.
‘BOON!’ he yells at me.
‘Balloon.’ I say back to him.
He sits back in his little wire chariot and nods his head.
I swear I could hear him thinking:
‘Good job, old lady. Good job. That’s right: balloon.’
If I keep it up I might be in the ‘smart kids’ reading group at school.
In the News
Over my lunch break, I like to read what’s going on in the world. I’ll munch on some salad or goat cheese with celery and learn that there was a huge pudding spill or that a guy won the contest but then died, or that there are some people as dumb as this guy but how dumb do the cops feel that can’t find him?
And then there will be a story like this: face transplants.
Oh ya. That’s why I read the news….
If I was the flight attendant
Subject: FLY ALASKA AIR
Before takeoff…………….
“Hello, and welcome to Alaska Flight 438 to San Francisco. If you’re going to San Francisco, you’re in the right place. If you’re not going to San Francisco, you’re about to have a really long evening.
“We’d like to tell you now about some important safety features of this Aircraft. The most important safety feature we have aboard this plane is… The Flight Attendants. Please look at one now.
“There are 5 exits aboard this plane: 2 at the front, 2 over the wings, and one out the plane’s rear end. If you’re seated in one of the exit rows, please do not store your bags by your feet. That would be a really bad idea. Please take a moment and look around and find the nearest exit. Count the rows of seats between you and the exit. In the event that the need arises to find one, trust me, you’ll be glad you did. We have pretty blinking lights on the floor that will blink in the direction of the exits. White ones along the normal rows, and pretty Red ones at the exit rows.
“In the event of a loss of cabin pressure these baggy things will drop down over your head. You stick it over your nose and mouth like the Flight attendant is doing now. The bag won’t inflate, but there’s Oxygen there, promise. If you are sitting next to a small child, or someone who is acting like a small child, please do us all a favor and put on your mask first. If you are traveling with two or more children, please take a moment now to decide which one is your favorite. Help that one-first, and then work your way down.
“In the seat pocket in front of you is a pamphlet about the safety features of this plane. I usually use it as a fan when I’m having my own personal summer. It makes a very good fan. It also has pretty pictures. Please take it out and play with it now.
“Please take a moment now to make sure your seat belts are fastened low and tight about your waist. To fasten the belt, insert the metal tab into the buckle. To release, it’s a pulley thing — not a pushy thing like your car because you’re in an airplane — HELLOOO!!
“There is no smoking in the cabin on this flight. There is also no smoking in the lavatories. If we see smoke coming from the lavatories, we will assume you are on fire and put you out. This is a free service we provide. There are two smoking sections on this flight, one outside each wing exit. We do have a movie in the smoking sections tonight … hold on, let me check what it is … Oh here it is; the movie tonight is ‘Gone with the Wind.’
“In a moment we will be turning off the cabin lights, and it’s going to get really dark, really fast. If you’re afraid of the dark, now would be a good time to reach up and press the yellow button. The yellow button turns on your reading light. Please don’t press the orange button unless you absolutely have to. The orange button is your seat ejection button.
“We’re glad to have you with us on board this flight. Thank you for choosing Alaska Air, and giving us your business and your money. If there’s anything we can do to make you more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask. “If you all weren’t strapped down you would have given me standing ovation, wouldn’t you?”
After landing…
“Welcome to the San Francisco International Airport. Sorry about the bumpy landing. It’s not the captain’s fault. It’s not the copilot’s fault. It’s the asphalt. Please remain seated until the plane is parked at the gate. At no time in history has a passenger beaten a plane to the gate. So please don’t even try. Please be careful opening the overhead bins because ‘shift happens.’”
Forwarded from a co-worker.
Thanx for the laugh, Michelle.
Lost Time
I have lost one hour and 23 minutes of my life that I can never get back again.
I watched Nelly pick the girl he gets to shag whenever he wants a.k.a. the new Apple Bottoms model and then watched the first part of the Hilton Sisters Bio until Joe turned off the tv in disgust.
Well, the draw is obvious, isn’t it? I have an Apple Bottom myself. My hair is long and blond and I never know what to do with my millions and kazillions of dollars…..
But I can never get that time back.
Now, you just sit there and think about that.
Photos
Very funny from Defective Yeti: What Is The Matrwich?
I like this site: The Shy Stick Insect Hunter. He’s nutty.
Did some work on the photos page.
House warming party a few months ago.
Some sunsets I had hanging around.
Joe at Zac’s baptism.
And, of course, the date with Joe last Saturday Night.
saturday with joe
We had a fun date in the gaslamp.
We went to see Intolerable Cruelty.
We bought moravian starpaper lanters.
We had dessert first.
We walked around.
We ate dinner.
We talked.
I liked it very much.
Idiot Synocraties
I got out of the car carefully, looking for traffic that might be coming and could take my door off. At the first open opportunity, I leapt from the car, slammed the door shut and rounded the side of my Escort to the back where I hit the curb with my right foot and smacked the pavement.
After inspecting my jeans for a tear, (none, thankfully) I hear a voice behind me.
Him: Looks like you fell.
Me: Duh! (just kidding…that was in my head)
Me for reals: Ya. *Stupid laugh*
Him: Um…you ok?
Me: Ya. *stupid laugh encore*
Him: Nothing broken? Twisted?
Me: Nope. I’m fine. Thanx.
Him: Do you want a massage? I’ll do more than your feet.
Me: ……
I open the front passenger door from the sidewalk where it’s safe from scary drivers but not from weird people and get out the coat I’m dropping off at the dry cleaners. I ignore him and start to walk away.
Him: Hey. What’s your name?
Me: I’m not telling you my name. (mumbled to the air in front of me)
Him: What? I couldn’t hear you.
Me: I’m not telling you my name!
Him: Oh. Ok.
A block later, when I get to the dry cleaners, he’s no where to be seen. I glanced over my shoulder just to be sure.
The man in the dry cleaners takes the coat.
Him: Very nice coat!
Me: Thanx. It’s my boyfriends.
Him: It don’t look dirty. Why you want it clean? Bad smell? (sniffs coat and shrugs shoulders)
Me: No. Not a bad smell. *stupid laugh act three* I was sick a few days ago. The coat was hanging up on a hook. I vomited so hard that it splashed off the floor and up on the coat. I told my boyfriend I would get it cleaned for him.
Him: Ok. I see. (big smile)
I took the receipt and headed for the door. He hurried to open the door for me. I thanked him, walked out and turned to wave goodbye and almost hit him in the head with my hand. He was walking with me.
Him: Where your car?
Me: Um…down there. (pointing indiscriminately down the block) Thanx again. (walking faster)
Him: (keeping pace with me) You no really have boyfriend.
Me: Yes. I do.
Him: Right now?
Me: Yes. Right this very minute.
Him: You sure you do? I like to date you.
Me: Yes. Really. I do. Thanx. Bye. (speed walking past my car and heading for the nail place)
Him: You come back Whezday. We talk about date then.
Me: No. I have a boyfriend. No.
He opens the door of the store for me and I walk in.
Him: Well, you pretty but you don’t want love I can’t make you.
He turned and walked back up the block to the dry cleaners.
45 minutes later I emerged with unplanned but freshly pedicured feet in neon yellow foam slippers and tried to get in the wrong car, setting off the alarm. Thankfully, there were no men around to fall prey to my feminine whiles that time.
Moral of the story:
There are no stronger aphrodisiacs than tripping in public and vomit.
idiosyncrasies
At dinner last night the menu included this:
Admiral’s Feast
A luscious platter of shrimp, scallops, clam strips and fish fillets delicately fried to perfection.
suggested beverage, bud light
Sick Bones
From the girl that brought you an actual case of Cat Scratch Fever, or La maladie des griffes de chat in French where it was first tested, I now bring you Sick Bones.
So, it went down like this:
I got the flu
and then my lung hurt,
and then i couldn’t breathe.
At the hospital:
noticed swelling that I thought was due to my underwire bra. Ha. Not even.
listened to my heart, which was normal
felt my pulse, which was normal
they did a EKG, which was normal
touched me on my ribs under my breast near my heart, decided it was not normal when I tried to fly off the table and almost reflex-punched her.
Ordered an x-ray of my chest, came back normal besides the small pocket of air around my heart and about 40 staples that are imbedded under my right arm from the Cat Scratch Fever episode mentioned earlier, where the doctors removed a large plum-sized lymph node and stapled me back together. Hello!
Ok, I guess the staples are normal, but I don’t know how I feel about having shards of metal inside me. What about the metal detectors at the airport??
And the diagnosis: my ribs were sick. They had caught a virus. It doesn’t matter that you haven’t heard of it before and it sounds like a fake disease….I got it.
Oh, yes. And for you non believers, Cat Scratch Fever IS more than just a song….it’s a real disease
Some of the lyrics to Ted’s song are an out right lie:
I feel no pain
And some are right on:
You know you got it
When youre goin’ insane
It makes a grown *[woman] cry, cry
*liberties taken by this author
Other news:
Working on a speech coming in January about spending time with your kids and cherishing every second. I think I’ve learned a thing or two about that over the past year or so…
Work is good. Almost done with the site re-design for GTI.
Going to have my kids for an entire week starting the 25th. Can’t WAIT.
Working on a painting for my old boss, Teresa. She has been uber-patient.
Learning more about Christ/God.
Loving Mary, Jesus’ mother.
Working on a book proposal for a grant.
That’s about it.
When Words Fail
just put them in a song and sing them.
Details here: SHEMM
Two things:
1) It’s fascinating to me that this could be happening. Voyager I on Verge of Interstellar Space. I don’t know how to wrap my mind around it.
2) I’m against kids sniffing, snuffing, huffing or whatever you want to call it. So, when I think this is funny, does that make me a bad parent? It’s a sad day when animals turn to drugs…
The Weekend
Friday: Had no desire to dress up due to dressing up the day before for work. Not in a festive mood. Missed my kids. Stayed in and went to bed early.
Saturday: Went to Barbara, my homeopath, and admitted to having an unhealthy week prior, took a nap, took the rent to our landlord with Joe. Surprise to me: he lives in Scripps Ranch. I didn’t even know to be worried about him during the fires. Thankfully, his house escaped major damage unlike four other people down the street from him who lost everything. Went to the opening at The Grove in South Park. Maybe someday my own book will be in there.
Sunday: got my car detailed for the first time ever. And I mean ever. The evening ended in vomit. And I mean vomit. Joe cleaned up after me. It must be true love.
Monday: Slept until 2ish. Toilet overflowed. And I mean OVERFLOWED. Showered and felt a bit better. Took the 14 towels it took to clean up the floor to the laundry mat where I witnessed:
1 small dog on a leash.
2 street walkers wearing not much more than spiked black boots get taken in by the cops.
3 crying babies.
4 couples, 2 gay, 2 straight, all showing their mate love.
12 roses fall to the floor along with a blue vase that shattered to a million pieces.
I’m home now and tired.
Tomorrow I’m going to feel better.
Tomorrow I’m going to kick ass.
Tomorrow my week starts for reals.
quick recap for the kids:
when you grow up and dress yourself in the morning, please understand that a shredded black t-shirt, black thong underwear and 5 inch spike heals does not an outfit make, missed you halloween night, wished i could have seen you in your costumes, you will NOT believe what my car looks like, i’m not sick anymore and sometimes, even when you are as old as me, you still need someone else to take care of you when you get sick.
