Gizmo is well enough for a road trip so he’s on a road trip to Austin with us. Little Bit is along for the trip too. We came to Austin to see Brett and so I could meet the Midlife Gals. We met for happy hour and we laughed for 2 hours straight. These women are seriously twisted and a must visit for anyone who’s got a chromosomal abnormality of some kind.

I finally feel like I’ve found the sisters I was separated from at birth. The three of us have decided to embark on a project. However, we’ve taken an oath to keep it under wraps. Just keep a good thought for us.

I took the photos of our boys with an older phone while riding in the car. I realize that the quality isn’t the best; but I wanted to share them anyway.

We stopped in to see Brett DJ tonight.  It was so loud I could feel my fillings vibrate. Gizmo started to quiver. I was afraid he might start seizing again, so I ran him outside. I should buy stock in Miracle Ear. This whole generation of 20-30′s somethings is gonna be stone deaf soon. I’m sure of it.

I had to give Gizmo his meds tonight at the Mellow Mushroom. I took the syringe and ran some water over it at the fountain after I came him his meds. It didn’t cross my mind not to, it didn’t have a needle in it or anything. I guess I was brain dead, cause the manager came running out to me afterward. “Did you just was a syringe at my fountain?” “Yeah.” Needless to say I had some explaining to do.

Thank God he was OK after I explained. Hey I was here going to UT in 1969. That explains a lot.    

We’re supposed to be spending the night at Brett’s tonight. Wish us luck. Have a great Sat.

I’ll admit I don’t keep up with every little thing going on the world. I myself think that’s part of my charm.

However I saw an ad the other day that I don’t understand. I hope someone who knows more, that’s a big club I know, can enlighten me.

Why in fuck’s sake would a women need Extenze? I always thought the big thing, no pun intended, about Extenze was that it made that “very special part of a man’s body” bigger.

I’ve never heard a woman say “I wish I was bigger!”  (At least not about her twat.) Just doesn’t happen. In fact, most women would be offended if a guy ever intimated that. See for yourself.

I knew there had to be parodies about this stuff. I’ve found one. Is it politically correct? No. So if you’re easily offended do not click on this spot. Go back to reading

Emily Post. But if you don’t find any part of this funny, you’re probably at the wrong blog anyway.

The Extenze ads are just about as annoying to me as the one from Progressive Insurance; you know the ones that feature Flo. I abhor that woman. I mute that commercial as soon as I hear it. “Discount!” blah blah blah, “Discount!”  I wouldn’t buy that insurance  if it was just $5 because of her. Just once I’d just love to nail her with a chocolate cream pie just when she says “Discount!”

But I digress…

I admit, I have not tried Extenze for women. Months ago however, I was sent a sample of Zestra, to give it a try. Zestra is another player in the “enhanced female experience” market. I guess since I have the word “Boomer” in my name, someone thought it’d be good if I could give it my thumbs-up. Well I gave it a go. I don’t know what it retails for. But I’m guessing that you can get the same tingle and save yourself some $$ by chopping up a jalapeno then amusing yourself. Bedsides if you use an organic jalapeno it’s be a totally “green” experience; and isn’t everything better when it’s green?

Although I’ve never read a Harlequin romance, I’ve always heard about “burning desire”. Sounds exciting right? In reality, not so much.

Zestra got a big thumbs down from me. If anyone else has had a different experience with it, I’d love to hear about it.

Whew- I feel better now. I’ve realized over the years that I wouldn’t be a good monk, for a couple of reasons.

Now for other news. No, I did not go out on a Long Island Iced Tea spree and drink myself stupid(er) last night. As it turns out, Doug hadn’t made a bank deposit so although he had enough $$ to take everyone to dinner last night, (Amanda and Nate came after class), he didn’t have enough with him to also support my imbibing. So I didn’t have even 1 drink.

I did eat pasta like I was going to the chair though. Damn that Olive Garden. Manana kiddos.

Doug has been wanting to participate in the rodeo for years. We know people that make enough during the run of the rodeo that  that’s all they do- for the year. They make that much. Now most of those folks are food vendors. But the other people there make some good coinage as well. Our friend who does sand art there works at only two other events. He just relaxes and travels the rest of the year. Attendance at the Houston rodeo is over two million people . It’s a biggie.

I knew when we were planning to go on our NYC trek that Doug wanted the application finished. I told him I’d have it done. I meant to get it done. It did get done- finally- today. Today was the deadline. If we’re selected we’ll be doing something totally new for us. On the plus side, it won’t kill my shoulder or my hand. No face painting required. On the minus side, a certain amount of engineering had to be figured out before we could even apply.

If we’d wanted to spend the $10K it cost for a whole ready made set-up we wouldn’t have had to figure out anything. However, since we have more time than money it fell to me to get everything figured out; which meant some industrial espionage was involved. I’m really good at that. It took me a few days, but I did get all the information, piecemeal. What someone wanted to sell us for $10K Doug swears he can make for less than $1K. I have no doubt he can do it. He’s just that good.

So after all the engineering was figured out, the whole application had to be gotten together. There were about 10 different forms, drawings and pages of paperwork that had to be done.

I had done a simple sketch for one of the drawings. When I got here ( at Nate and Amanda’s) today it was decided that the sketch needed to be re-done. Amanda learned auto-cad for her horticulture classes. She got busy on that. I called Miss Evelyn. She went to work on doing the layout of the booth. I told her where everything would go. She just needed to prettify it.  I needed to do the coversheet; which I think is the most important piece of the app. No one talks to you before their final decision is made; so the coversheet is it! You’ve got to nail it.

I think I did. hope I did.

Doug was off to the state comptrollers office to take care of a sales tax lien from awhile (1995) back. It was only for $375. (Shades of the expired tags and inspection stickers swirled through my brain.) He calls. He’s all paid up and once again good to good- as far as the state of Texas is concerned anyway.

Now, feeling virtuous,  he headed over towards Reliant Center (still the dome to me). He stops at Office Depot to pick up all the emails that we’ve sent there for the rodeo application. They’re not there! And why is that you ask? Because he gave me the wrong email address for them! Amanda worked wonders with everything she did. Evelyn came though for us as well. We couldn’t have gotten it done without them. We’re sending. Some he gets- some not.

MANY calls went back and forth. The clock ticked.  The train that goes nears Reliant Center was running amok. The crossing arm was going up and down for no apparent reason. According to Doug cars just kept sitting there. He called me-repeatedly. I thought he was going to pull a Michael Douglas like in Falling Down right there in the car. He was yelling. WTF did he think I could do? I was 30 miles away!

It seemed obvious that Doug wasn’t going to make the 5pm deadline.

I threatened violence if he called me again.

I called the rodeo and sweetly asked the man who answered what our options were if Doug ran just a few minutes late. I explained how I knew we should’ve had it in earlier but the fates had conspired against us. He offered to wait til Doug arrived, then personally walk the application over to the correct person. What a guy!

So finally after much duress, cursing that would make as sailor blush, threats of violence, and a molar which may now very well be cracked from clenching my teeth sooo tightly it is done.

I am now awkwardly climbing up to take my rightful  place next to Procrastination King. You may call me Queenie! (Well I’m still not as bad as he is anyway.)

BTW- I did offer to take everybody to dinner tonight as a thank-you for all their hard work. However Amanda had class and Miss Evelyn has now climbed back onto the health wagon and declined my invitation. I will join her there next week. It was so much more fun when we were both being bad though.

I’m going out to have a Long Island Iced Tea in a qt. Mason jar. Good thing I’m not driving.

I’m not one of those TV snobs. “I NEVER watch TV!” I do watch TV, not as much as I used to, perhaps more than I should. But then, who’s to really say?

Not all of us were put on this mortal plane to ponder the meaning of life, split the atom or cure baldness after all; were we?

This morning I saw a list of the Emmy award winners. So here are my thoughts on all the awards from last night in no particular order because I don’t care quite enough to do all the extra work. Take it for what’s it worth, which is to say feel free to line the birdcage or cat box with it.

Before that though- here’s a little clip from the show last night. It features George Clooney in bed with the cast of Modern Family.

I could sit and listen to him do nothing more than read the phone book- for hours…

Sorry, I got distracted. Bet I wasn’t the only one though. Does he have the most appealing bedroom eyes or what?

1) Mad Men won for best drama. I don’t watch it. I watched it once and found it condescending to women. That was enough for me. They lost me as a viewer. I got a letter from them begging me to come back, but I just couldn’t.

2) Jane Lynch won for Glee. I haven’t ever seen Glee most likely because it’s up against something else I’ve been watching for awhile. (If I had to venture a guess I’d say that was probably Law&Oder SVU.)  Jane is so dry. Mojave desert dry. I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve seen her in from Two and a half Men to the Healthy Choice ads.

3) Kyra Sedgwick won for The Closer. Evelyn is ape shit over this show. Me, not so much. I’ve like Kyra in other things, but just not this show. Maybe it’s her fake southern accent. I was hoping for Juliana Margulies to win for The Good Wife. I always liked her in ER; and once I like an actor, I tend to stay with them. I’m loyal.

4) Top Chef beat out The Amazing Race for best reality show. I like Top Chef well enough. I like most cooking shows. However, I really, really like The Amazing Race. Was the past season as good as all the ones before it? I can’t really say. But as long as CBS keeps it on, I don’t really care if it wins or not, as long as it doesn’t lose out to Jersey Shore.

5) Jim Parsons won for his portrayal of Sheldon in The Big Bang Theory. Jim Parsons is from Houston. (You gotta like a home-town boy.) Well, you don’t have it, but in this instance I do. Big Bang is one of a very few shows that I make sure to watch every week. (I don’t TIVO.) It’s my favorite show, by far.

I believe the son of a family friend was the actual model of Sheldon. I’ll call his mom during the show and we’ll laugh together. She sees it. His dad doesn’t at all. (Very Twilight Zoney.) Dad’s paddling his canoe down the river Denial. BTW- Does anyone else find it hard to believe that Jim Parsons actually 37? Or am I just getting to that point in life where everyone looks young?

6) Edie Falco won for Nurse Jackie. I’ve never seen it, so I can’t in all honestly say anything about her in it. If I remember though, Julia Louie-Dreyfus was nominated for The New Adventures of Old Christine. I always made sure to catch her show when it was on. I found her fallibilities endearing. Also, I always got a kick out of Wanda Sykes. I was bummed when that show was canceled. I hope they put it in re-runs soon.

7) I’ve never seen Breaking Bad so I can’t really say anything about Bryan Cranston.

8) I do like Modern Family. I started watching Ed O’Neil when he was in Married with Children. I know, no one was supposed to watch it. But we did, from time to time. There I said it. I’ve got no complaint with Eric Stonestreet winning for his his portrayal as Cameron.  He’s really out there, especially when showing his love for their child. The interactions between Cameron and Jay are usually pretty funny.

I feel sure that I’ve left some actors or shows out of this insightful review, but such is life. So is my assessment dead-on? Or are these just the ramblings of a delusional, somewhat older woman?

Overall, I considered the day a big success. However, once we were in the car today it was obvious to me that today was really his day to celebrate.

Our house is about 5 miles from I-10 so we’re drive up and down it all the time. Since Doug has been driving with either expired tags or inspection sticker, or expired tags and an expired inspection sticker for as long as I can remember, he never goes through the U-turn lane under the freeway. That’s where the cops sit, just waiting for felons like Doug so they can give them a ticket. The bastards!

Instead we always just make a left turn at the light at the cross street, then another left at the next- which, when you put it all together, is a U-turn- the U-turn we couldn’t make because, well, you know. Go ahead and laugh- I know it’s ridiculous. (If I’m driving, I always make U-turns, but then I’ve never been a fugitive.)

So today, when we needed to go the other way on I-10, Doug just made a U-turn, like every other normal person in the world.

What a moment! As he was driving through the turn he said “Fuck you trolls! You can’t get me!” I think I heard a choir of angels singing.

I laughed out loud. The next time he made a U-turn on I-10 today he went “Take that! Take that!”- all the while shooting the bird at no one.

That’s my guy.

Before the incident, all of our pack usually ate the primo dry  food from Costco. Everybody was happy with it; and it could be bought at a reasonable price in 40 lb bags. Not to mention Nate picks it up for us when he’s doing a big shopping there and usually just drops it by here since we live so close. But I digress….

Since Gizmo lost those teeth I thought perhaps that dry kibble might be more difficult for him to eat. So I started looking around for an alternative and came across this- It’s called Red Barn Beef Formula. The label states that it’s over 69% pure beef, beef lung and liver. No corn, soy or beets. They need less of it, so they poop less. Not that cleaning up after Giz has been a huge problem anyway.

I had seen dog food in a chub before; but it had always been at a Petsmart type place and always refrigerated. This was just sitting on a shelf at Tractor Supply Co. You know who had decided we needed to go there to “check things out”. And no, we don’t have a tractor; but why would that matter to Doug?

For once I was happy that he’d made a stop that I’d deemed totally unnecessary.  I was intrigued and decided to get a roll for Gizmo. It’s $5 a roll. However since  Gizmo, is under 10 lbs, it said to give him between 1/4″ and 1″ per day. A roll will last him over 10 days I calculated. But would he eat it?

OMG! This stuff should actually be labeled Crack for Dogs!

I’ve never seen anything like it! The entire pack went nutso when I opened it. And the nice thing is that you can cut through the package easily with a big knife and once opened you don’t have that God awful canned pet food smell left in your frig. I just put a piece of foil over the end, put it back in the frig and it’s good to go. Sadly, I cannot afford to keep all 5 on it right now.  If I could, I would. So it’s just Gizmo that has it for his main food every day.

I use small slivers of it to get the rest to comply with whatever I want. They see me slicing tiny pieces of it and go to their crates, just waiting for it. I’m telling you, if I ever get enough of this I could control every dog in the world. And then if they had opposable thumbs, I’d be set.

This is some good shit. Plus your furry one isn’t left with canned dog food breath. (Doug says it smells like ham). Gizmo is thriving on it.

Anyway, just wanted to share the discovery of a great product. I’m not sure if cats could eat it too. If you’re a cat person you might ask your vet or call the company.

BTW- I’ll have a big post with new photos of Giz soon.

Life is just too short to stay pissed off for very long. I mean really, I could go outside and be mowed down by a Hostess Cupcake truck; a fitting end to my life for sure. But the point is, you just never know when your life is gonna be over and I’d hate to think that I left this mortal plane in a bad mood.

Right now I’m sitting in the police station. Now before you have a telethon to raise money for my defense, let me assure you, I did nothing wrong. My significant other, not so much. The love of my life, Doug , AKA Procrastination King, is here because he put off til tomorrow what he should’ve done yesterday; which is to say 4 months ago.

We bought our new (new to us at least) van in April. Most people go sometime during the next couple of weeks after buying a car and get all the paperwork changed over- title, license, all that fun stuff. Not my guy. He did it today. And the only reason he did it today was because he got a ticket for it, 6 weeks ago when he got caught.

Sorry for the fuzziness

Now before you jump me, please remember that we share a car. He has it every day, I don’t. And pls remember in Houston, mass transit is a joke. You just can’t there from here- or to much of anywhere for that matter. I reminded him at least 10 times to take care of it getting the title transferred and the car inspected since we got it. After a while I just stopped. I don’t want to be his mom.

Doug is really good with some things. You want something built so it’ll last forever, he’s your man. You want a complex math problem figured out? He’s your man. You want a guy who’s big enough to be intimidating, yet a real softy on the inside?  He’s your man. You want a guy who’s always considerate and makes sure that both trains get to the station, he’s your my man.

But if you need something concerning paperwork done in a timely manner- he’s NOT your man. Thank God at the Census he was a supervisor and didn’t have much paperwork to do himself. (He just had to check everyone else’s.) So here I sit, waiting for him to be finished at court.

When the cop stopped him a couple of months ago, he said he was going to let Doug off with a warning til he saw on the computer that he’d had a habit of doing this. (Letting the inspection and tags on the car expire that is.) The last time this happened, 5 years ago, Doug was treated to a lovely tour of the Harris County jail for about 15 hours. He was stopped then too because of an expired inspection sticker. (I told you he was a sloow learner.) It turned about to be a mistake, not the stop, but the arrest.

It’s quite a story, let me tell you. I could go into it now, but I don’t have any Depends nearby and when I tell the story it makes me laugh so hard I need them. Brett, Amanda, Nathan, Evelyn and I think the story is just hilarious.

Now, my secret is out. I’m married to a jailbird.

Thank God he wasn’t always such a procrastinator or we’d probably never have had kids. If he had been, his swimmers would probably still be just meandering around in there, listening to ESPN or something. They would’ve gotten around to finding that egg eventually, which actually means I probably be pregnant about now.

Ah, but such is the fabric of a marriage. To survive, a good marriage has to be like Lycra. It’s got to have a lotta give.

Here he comes. Hallelujah! He wasn’t arrested again. So now, we’re $125 lighter because of his fines procrastination. But that’s OK. He feels guilty, which I fully intend to exploit into a weekend of honey-do tasks around our fabulous casa. Hell I may even be able to wrangle a massage, a real massage outta this.

Have you noticed you or significant other becoming more of a procrastinator as time goes by? Inquiring minds want to know.

It did this morning, on me.

Normally I think most people would agree that I’m a pretty carefree person, barring a major problem with our human or  furry kids. ( Come to think of it, Brett kinda falls into both categories. That boy has a lot of fur, for a human that it.)  It really takes a lot to get me ticked. But I woke up this morning pissed. I could’ve been put into a steel cage death match vs both Rancor from Star Wars and Hannibal Lechter and in just a few seconds they would’ve both been begging to be let outta there.

So I’ve been trying to put my finger on exactly what spurred my sunny disposition today. Gizmo is still improving, as are the others, so it’s not that. No utilities are in danger of being suspended, so it’s not that. We actually have a small cushion of $$’s for a change, so it’s not that.

After much consideration I think I’ve gotten it down to three things:

1. The Effexor has finally exited my system- all of it. It’s been 12 days since I stopped it cold turkey.  And if it’s the Effexor that has kept me from becoming Miss Congeniality like I am today for the last 6 yrs; then I’m surprised someone hadn’t just clunked me over the head with a shovel years before I ever started on it.

2. We’re clearing the last of my mom’s things out of her house this week. I hadn’t seen my younger brother in the almost 10 months since she died. We were allowed to go to the house the other day and get some things of hers out of there. These things were of little value to most people, but meant a lot to me- and especially Brett and Amanda. I asked Brad today if he could get mom’s Bible back from my older brother who took it from her apt. last Nov. The man’s an atheist! WTF does he need it for? He doesn’t. He took it out of spite.  There’s a lot more to that story- but that’s for a later time.

3. Doug mentioned yesterday that he thought I’d be ripping the clothes off him as soon as he got back from Austin. He said that now he feels like he needs a special key or some magic beans to get me in the mood for amour. He’s disappointed. Awwww…

And this is a surprise why?

He’s known it’s always been that way to some degree. I’ve tried to explain to him over the many loooong years that unlike a car, you just can’t hook up a set of jumper cables to the ta-tas and expect the engine to kick right over. How is it possible that a guy with an IQ in the 130′s cannot grasp this concept? Women need words; at least this woman does. The man has two master’s degrees. How could he still be so clueless?

I’m going to start looking for some empty bottles of Liquid Paper. He’s just got to be huffing or doing something else that’s severely limiting his brain power.

Thanks to everyone who popped by for Wordless Wednesday yesterday. I’ve decided to keep doing it; but I’ll probably do a regular bit that day as well.

I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be back to normal- whatever that is. I promise I’ll be funny.

Now I’ve got to find my mustache wax, then go tie a widow to a railroad track. I’m channeling my inner Snidley.

I’ve been to LaBare, the” ladies club” in Houston three times. Each time I’ve been there’s always been a little drama at some point during the evening. The first time I went it was with a bunch of girls from the apartment complex where we all lived. I use the term “girls” loosely. We were all in our early thirties.

The oldest member of our group drove. She was the designated driver. I recall her husband was somewhat less than thrilled that she was joining on this junket, which is to say, he was pissed. But she had a van, so we all piled in and off we went.

I enjoyed it well enough, however never did I feel the need to excuse myself and go finish the fantasy as I heard some ladies doing in the loo.

At the end of the evening we went to get the van and it wasn’t there. Her van had been towed. Her husband was doing a great impression of Krakatoa when he arrived to take the group of chatty, inebriated females back home. I’m sure she’d wished that she’d been snockered like the rest of us at that point.

A few days later I heard that the store who had her car towed kept having ” mysterious” electrical problems. Her husband worked for HL&P, who at the time was the only electric provider in Houston. The store would be OK, then they’d lose power. They’d get it back on, he’d take them down. Lather, rinse, repeat. Of course you probably couldn’t get away with it now but back then… Teach them to tow his car.

One summer another smaller group decided to go back to LaBare’s for a girl’s night out. We’re drinking and enjoying ourselves when the announcer said “And now please give a warm welcome to the Italian Stallion!” I almost dropped my drink. It was Vince, our next door neighbor! We couldn’t believe it.

When the music stopped he changed tables as dancers do. He came to our table and hopped up, not even looking at any of us first. Then the music started and he started to gyrate wearing nothing but a smile and a teeny weeny silver lame dance belt, which left almost nothing to the imagination. The he looked down. He saw me first- then Rosie-then Diana. “Hiiiiii Vince” we all said in unison.

I thought the man was going to fall off the table. To say he missed a few steps would be an understatement.

A couple of years later when my aunt was visiting from a small town in Missouri I took my mom and my aunt to LaBare. Neither of them had been to a ladies club and I thought it’d be fun. I guess it’s easy for the dancers to zero in one the newbies in the crowd. This one dancer, who was extremely gifted- physically speaking, kept rocking wildly in front of my aunt. Beads of sweat from his manhood flew onto her glasses. Then he actually removed her glasses, folded them up and stuck them in his dance belt. The fact that he was gorgeous black man, made it all the funnier to me.

I thought my aunt was just going to die; and then, at one point I thought my mom was going to go in after them herself. Looking back, I now realize they were then, about the age I am now. How freaky is that? When my aunt got home, my uncle threw her glasses away, so I was told.

The last time I saw a stripper was the night of Diana’s 40th birthday, almost 20 years ago. Our group of couples had rented a beach house for her party and as surprise I had called LaBare and had arranged for one of their guys come all the way to Bolivar (about 70 miles and 1 ferry ride away) to dance for us. That was 19 years ago. It only cost $200.  God only know what that’d cost these days.

Chris, about 25 yrs. old, and drop dead gorgeous with a stomach so taut you could bounce dimes off it, showed up dressed as Robin Hood and went straight into his act, seemingly oblivious to the fact that all our husbands were just a few feet from him, all of them and giving him the hairy eyeball. Our menfolk appeared underwhelmed by the whole experience. I actually heard one of them say “I just don’t see the big deal.” Of course the next morning while all the ladies were having pancakes and bacon, our husbands were looking for wheat grass and bran.

I think they would’ve been happier with a dancer that looked like one of these guys.

Us, not so much.

So now I have some questions for you. If you went to a place like that, all in good, would it  be a problem for your significant other? Should it be? Would you have a problem if they went?

Years ago I heard somewhere that men are like rifles.  I wrote about this about a year ago.  This year, Doug was just crazy at the time being one of the big giant heads for the census; and I got forgotten- again.

Anyway, last year, I got pissed then cried. I was hurt. This year I was pissed, but then I got smart. I bought an entire new wardrobe of clothes for the upcoming trip to make myself feel better.

Luckily for Doug something in his brain told him “Don’t complain about all the money she’s spending.” Lucky for him, he listened.

So for the two weeks after our missed anniversary I shopped. My favorite purchase was a black and purple cocktail dress- my first.  I bought cute black pumps that hurt my feet to go with it. I was ready. We were going to go out in NYC one night, someplace really nice- very hoity toity- maybe even go dancing. Doug even took a suit. Houston just really doesn’t have places like that.

That was the plan anyway. Did it work out that way? Not so much.

A few days before we left, Doug told me that he’d invited Brett along for the trip. I love our son more than anything. But I knew that our room in Manhattan was small and with us on the bed and Evelyn on the couch, having Brett there too would make things really cramped. “Don’t worry. He’ll be staying with friends. We’ll just see him during the day probably.”

Did it work out that way? Not so much.

Because Brett came along on the trip, the trip morphed from a kinda-sorta second honeymoon (amazing since we never had one to begin with), to a business trip. Brett’s been wanting to start a food venture out of trailer in Austin. Food trailers are HUGE in Austin now.

So no romantic walks through Central Park for me. Walks where Doug might actually slow his pace to match mine while he holds my hand. Instead we were back to normal. Doug walks fast. Combine that with his almost freakishly long legs and I always feel like I should be walking around under a burqua; since I’m always 5′ behind. I really hate that.

I wonder if he turned around and saw me wearing one some day if he’d get the message then. Telling him for 28 yrs. sure hasn’t worked.

Before the trip I had a list of places that I wanted to go- the Central Park Zoo, the Top of the Rock, etc. I know, real corny, touristy stuff. But if you’re raised in Houston, you’ve seen this stuff in movies all your life. It always looks so romantic. I wanted to see it, experience it in person. Remember the end of Sleepless in Seattle?

Did it work out that way? Not so much. But did I get to see a bunch of restaurants that Doug wanted to check out.

We went to Lombardi’s in Little Italy to have the “best” pizza in NYC. Was it the best? I don’t think so. It was like a wet washcloth with toppings on it. The crust was way underdone. Not to mention that Doug ordered 2 lg. pizzas- for the four of us.  The 6 folks at the table next to us literally turned to watch and see if all that pizza on our table was actually going to be consumed. I felt like one of the Coneheads. We had a pizza box with us the rest of the day. 

We went to Serendipity 3- the home of frozen hot chocolate- one of Oprah’s favorite things. It looks mighty impressive on TV and when it’s set in front of you too. But we waited 90 minutes to get in. Was it worth it? I think not. They sell the mix- just mail order it then make it at home and serve it in a soup tureen. Please be sure to add sweetened whipped cream on top. They had plain; and I think it suffered because of it. Besides, $8.75 for each person? For that price, I’d better need a cigarette when I’m finished with a dessert. Sadly, I did not. Although I did feel somewhat violated, but not in a good way.

We lost 2 days and nights of our trip going to see chuckles in CT. I’d thought Doug and Brett were going to CT when Evelyn and I were at BlogHer. Just didn’t work out that way. So there went my special night out.

My beautiful dress hangs still unworn in my closet, my pretty pumps undanced in. On the plus side though I did leave CT with a lovely peach cardigan looking thing made of sweatshirt material. How did she know I’d been longing for one so so many years? I’ve worn it many times since we’ve returned. In fact I had it on today- I think with the heat index it’s only 110 outside.

So the closest thing I had to a “nice” night out was the night we ate in Hell’s Kitchen, only a few blocks from where we were staying. The food was great. I’d  Spanxed myself, put on a strapless bra and slipped into a cute summer sundress with spaghetti straps. The skirt swirled when I turned around. I love it. I wore some pretty summer sandals with 3″ heels. I looked good. We met my friend, Track, after dinner then we all went out for some drinks.

Track was doing shots with a beer. I had a couple of really good mixed drinks and by the time we got back to the room was feeling pretty good. I’d forgotten we were not going to be alone in bed. So no bowling or anything else that night. But the next morning we had Evelyn convinced that she’d been sleeping on the same bed, just a few inches from one of the wildest nights of slap ‘n tickle known to mankind. It was great. She was mortified. We let her think that for most of the day. We didn’t actually tell her that anything had gone on. We just didn’t tell her it didn’t.

So my dress is still waiting for it’s big debut. I’m thinking a cruise might be on our horizon, down the road a bit when all our dog drama subsides.

Now you have it. Inquiring minds wanted to know more details of our trip; and now you do.

BTW- I still consider the trip a big success. Although most of it didn’t go exactly as planned, I still had a great time with Doug, Brett and the Megalodon.

I’d had this blog slightly less than a year when I decided it needed a new look.  During that year I’d come to realize a lot of things; short paragraphs are better than long ones. Not everyone is going to love you. And if you can’t handle that, you probably shouldn’t be doing this anyway. Get over it.

People who’d been blogging for awhile told me that eventually that I’d find my “voice”.

I had no idea what they meant, til I finally found mine. It wasn’t exactly the voice I’d expected. Actually I really don’t know what I expected. Over the years though I’m becoming more and more outrageous. My “voice” is becoming louder, with fewer filters in place. Looking back though, I guess I might’ve expected this. It seems I’ve been heading this direction for awhile, decades actually,

In 1977 on my first trip to San Fransisco, late one night a friend called and asked me to come right over. I rode across town in a taxicab to see what he needed. (It wasn’t a booty call.) I was already ready for bed when he called and was dressed appropriately. It didn’t cross my mind to change clothes before I left the hotel. The taxi driver didn’t look the least bit surprised as I rode across the city in my baby doll shortie nightie.

I once  flew cross country with my face painted- my entire face was covered with grease paint and glitter. The flight attendants kept giving me free drinks. I think they might’ve been a tad afraid of me. When I reached IAH I chased my mom through the airport, threatening to turn her into a toad. I was sure the silver wand I’d purchased on my trip would do the trick. (Perhaps all the free drinks I was given on the plane might’ve contributed to my behavior.)

Although he had  turned me down twice that night, I asked a man I didn’t know to dance one last time. I left that club with him that night. We married three weeks later. We’ve been together 28 years now.

When Brett was 2 and hospitalized with encephalitis and a stroke, I wrapped up our full size dachshund, Justin, in a comforter and snuck him into the hospital so Brett could see him. I was looking for anything that he would respond to. It didn’t work; but at least I tried. There are tons more examples over the years, but you get the idea I’m sure.

When I finally decided that I wanted to redesign my blog, I knew what I wanted. At least I thought I knew; and that’s what I told the designer. ” I want something edgy- outside the box.” I figured I wasn’t exactly Susie Whitebread, an almost 60 something, soon to be LOL, who’s going to grow old gracefully. So why should my blog look like one that Susie would like?

So after listening carefully, here’s the header he came up with:

He sent this to me two days before I was leaving for NYC to go to the BlogHer conference. I chose to go a different AKA less post apocalyptic, way- which is what you see at the top of the page. The question is “Did I play it too safe?” Recently I’ve had some people that suggested that I might have. Please tell me what you think. I would really like to know. Don’t look for me to change it anytime soon though. I like my Margaret Thatcher meets Monty Python kinda look.

PS- I’ve got no idea where that red type came from. If anyone does know, please tell me. You know I’m tech challenged. Thanks.

.

I probably won’t be talking about him in a regular posting for at least a few days now. I’m guessing most everyone is over-saturated with all this drama. Just please know that he’s now getting the best possible care. I’m hoping for a complete recovery for him; but at this time, no one knows if that is really possible. It’s still too early to tell.If you’d like more details before I post about him next time, please feel free to email me.

I’d love to share, but I think it’s important that I attempt to get back to where I was; and going back to my regular blog just might help me do that. Besides all of us could really use some laughs about now. I know I could.

I’m sharing something that Evelyn sent me the other day. I think it’s hilarious, kinda disturbing- but funny disturbing;  not like I slept with your grandmother disturbing. (As I’m sure everyone knows, I like funny disturbing.) For those really into balconies, it gives you a whole ‘another way to think about them- or not, after seeing these photos.

Please let me know what you think. I could really use the feedback. (Now remember, I’ve been away and it may take me just a bit to find myself again.)

BTW- Doug has never shaved his head. That is not us!

However, once upon a time, about 25 years ago, we were frisky in a hotel hot tub. Please note though that said hot tub was completely hidden from prying eyes by lush landscaping. It was very late and we had total privacy, or so we’d thought, until we got up to our room and went out on the balcony and looked down. You could see that hot tub and more importantly anything going on it, quite nicely actually. It was mortifying.

Of course, we were much younger and in much better shape then, so I got over a lot sooner than I would now. Now it’s just scary to think about- at least the getting seen part.

Apparently the call of the great outdoors is irresistible to some.

I’m also looking for another photos for the Bizarrometer. If you have one you think might qualify, please send it on and I’ll link back to you.

OK- now back to Gizmo. When we first got there today, Skye, one of the vet techs, came out with the medicine we’d be taking home for Giz. He’s now on Keppra every 8 hours to prevents seizures. Six am, two pm, ten pm. That’s my new schedule. It cannot vary.

They also sent us home with multiple syringes of Buprenorphine for pain.They said he’d probably not need it, but I have it just in case. His stomach was distended and he was in a lot of pain when he arrived at VIRGI. I saw the word “Starvation” written in big letters on his chart today.

As elated as I was knowing I was going to bring him home, when I saw that word it made my blood boil all over again. I’m still looking for a coupon for a wood chipper. I will find her. It may take me awhile, but I will.

I’m now positive if we’d been delayed getting back one more day, maybe even just hours, Gizmo at the very least, would’ve been dead for sure. Perhaps others in our pack as well.

We were able to go to the back to see him today. He was curled up and sleeping soundly. They had the words “Seizures” and “Flop” written on cards attached to his cage. I started whispering his name to him but got no response. After a minute or so I got a little louder. He started to stir and looked at me with glassy looking eyes for a few seconds. Eventually he realized who I was and started to get up. Then he fell over. My eyes teared up. Now I understood what “flop” meant. They had to be careful when they opened the door that he didn’t just fall right out.

Amanda held him in a soft throw she’d brought for home for him for a couple of minutes while we were told more about his condition. Then they sent us out while they removed his IV.

I was told to keep him right near me for the next week at least. So although I never carried a baby in a sling before, I will have  Gizmo that way with me if we have to be away from the house. I’m sure some people will think I’m crazy, but that’s OK with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to insure his recovery. Some people who want to see my “baby” might be in for a big surprise though.

We stopped at Amanda’s house on the way back home where she took this photo of him. He still looks stoned as you can see.

We put him outside to use the bathroom. He squatted like a girl dog, the first time. Eventually he started to lift his leg, however he fell onto the urine soaked grass when he did so. They said that may happen for awhile. He doesn’t smell great right now. (Come to think of it, I’ve seen some guys do the same thing.) I may try to give Giz a bath tomorrow, if he’s doing better.

Tomorrow we take him to our regular vet, Dr. Parham for a follow up. I think for the first time in 3 nights, I’ll actually get some good sleep with Gizmo in his little crate on our bed. He’s not himself right now. They think he should do well. However, he’s not completely out of the woods yet. Please keep sending any spare good thoughts or prayers his way.

The rest of our furry family is coming around. I guess the chicken and rice diet is slowly doing the job. Of course, the pack thinks their new diet is just great. The twins are starting to play together again. That’s a good sign. Daisy finally picked up one of her toys and gave it a squeak. Usually I find that shrill sound annoying, today- not so much. Little Bit is starting to be a pain in the ass again, so I know he’s feeling better too.

I hate to sound mushy but I just cannot thank everyone enough for all the kind thoughts and prayers for Gizmo and the rest of our pack the past few days. I know all those were a major part of his recovery. I just know it. Yesterday this site got over 19K hits. My server actually crashed for a few minutes due to all the traffic. How wonderful to discover that so many people were thinking of him.

To all those of you who shared our story with others on your blog, Facebook, or Twitter, I will be forever grateful. I’d personally had never been all that involved with social media before. (I think it’s a generational thing.) Seeing the power of it though, I certainly will be in the future for sure.

For those that were able to send something towards his huge bill, I hold a special place for you. I know that many people wanted to help financially, but just were unable to.  Do not fret, we will be fine. Of course my career as a bikini model will soon be over after I sell that kidney, but I was tired of doing that and eating is just way overrated anyway.

My God, it feels so good to be able to laugh again.

And for those of you who have just found my blog, please come back sometime soon. Usually this is a great place to spend a couple of minutes then leave with a smile. It’ll be that again soon, I promise.

I’ve really been trying for some time to figure a way to get my blog to grow. Obviously, though this wouldn’t have been they way I’d chosen.

A big wet kiss from Gizmo and the rest of our pack- a big hug from me.

I happened to see my next door neighbor outside, the one who recommended Carolyn, who did such a fine job with our furry pack. I went and spoke to my neighbor and asked for Carolyn’s last name.

“I don’t know it.” I was told. “I thought she was a good friend of yours.” “She is, but I don’t know her last name.” I went on into great detail about everything that has happened because of her. I never cursed, threatened or even raised my voice, thinking if I did, I wouldn’t get anywhere.

I told her that at the very least I thought her parents should know what she did and more importantly, did not do.

“Well, I don’t know anything about all this”, she said in a most uncaring way. She said she did have Carolyn’s parents number though, but wouldn’t give it to me. “I’ll have them call you.”

I’m holding my breath for the call.

Does anyone know how to track a cell number? I could really use that information.

Please keep up the prayers for him. He really needs them.

If you would like to donate to help our Gizmo please click here. But please don’t fret if you are unable. The good thoughts and prayers for his recovery are the main thing. Thanks.

Carolyn came highly recommended from our next door neighbor. I met her. She seemed nice and responsible. I gave her a key, 40 lbs of dog food and numerous treats for our guys. From what I found in my kitchen, perhaps 7 lbs. of the dog food was given to them over 16 days. The twins weighed 35 lbs. each, before we left.

When we arrived home yesterday nothing could’ve prepared me for what we saw or smelled.

All 5 dogs were loose in the house. There were multiple dried splotches 2′ across of diarrhea on the Pergo. There was no water for them to drink inside or out. The back door was ruined from them scratching on it trying to get outside. My usually peppy pack didn’t bark or even wag their tail when they saw us. They were listless. Blondie had lost at least 5 lbs.

The Pergo is shot. I don’t care. The mini blinds in this house end 2′ off the floor. They’re all ruined. I don’t care.

I called her and she said that everything had been fine when she left them yesterday morning. Lying bitch.

We put down an enormous bowl of water. There were 5 heads in it at once. It was dry in less than a minute. Little Bit, our Pom, actually hopped into the bowl. He doesn’t even like getting wet. He doesn’t look beautiful when wet you know.

Shortly after we got back home Gizmo had a seizure. Now I wasn’t overly concerned because over the past few years he had had one from time to time, perhaps 5 a year. Usually we just held him tight to us and they would pass in no more than ten minutes. Since they’d been so infrequent in the past, the vet had said not to worry about them.

By last night, Gizmo had had 4. The last one being worse than I’d ever seen. We took him to the emergency vet. She said she thought he had epilepsy for some time and because of his age, 7, they were getting worse. They put in an IV and anti seizure meds. She’d speculated that he’d be able to come home tonight at 8pm. He’d be on meds 3x a day for the rest of his life. That was OK with me. Doug left a huge deposit at the vet.

We’d been told before going to NY that Doug would have another phase of the Census to work when we got home. There isn’t one for him after all. So he’s now unemployed.

By the time we were almost home at 2am, the vet called. She said that lab tests showed he was suffering from extreme starvation along with other things- directly caused by Carolyn- or her lack of care more specifically. The vet said the bill was going up. I said OK. I don’t care what it costs. I just want him home.

We tried everything we knew to get everybody else to eat and drink. During the night 1 by 1 they all barked to get out of their crates. The rest of the pack all has diarrhea. I’m hoping that by this afternoon their systems will start to normalize.

The vet called this morning. Giz was not doing well. His sodium was too low, they corrected it. Now it’s too high.They’re doing EKG’s and lots of other tests.

I just thought I was going crazy when I was in withdrawl from Effexor. This is what crazy really feels like. I feel like I’m in Hell.

I know some people might think I’m stupid to be this emotional over dogs. They probably never read me anyway. They certainly couldn’t understand me. I asked Robert, who did my redesign to put a donation button on this blog today. I hope no one is offended by it; but I have to do what I have to do.

I haven’t prayed this much in a long time. I hope I’m being heard.

Please pray for our Gizmo.

If you would like to donate to help our Gizmo please click here, we understand if you are unable. Thanks.

Now, let me explain why.

Last Friday morning we were on the way back to meet Evelyn in Philadelphia. We’d spent 2 glorious evenings at my MIL’s house. We had to take two trains to get to Philadelphia. Now I’m sure that those in the NE will find this humorous, but trying to exit a train and have all your accompanying shit making it too is no small feat. I think it should be an Olympic event- at least for non-train people.

Most of the people on our trains were commuters. They all had their backpack or satchels. A few had the smaller rolling cases. We, on the other hand never travel light. We travel like the Joads in The Grapes of Wrath. We had two backpacks with laptops, my purse, 1 lg. overnight bag, Brett’s bag, 2 other things,(which I cannot recall), and a partridge in a pear tree. Plus an oversized tacklebox- a very important item.

When we finally arrived in Madison, CT on Wed. afternoon, we’d just gotten our assorted stuff down from the overhead rack and were preparing to exit when the train was moving again. WTF was with that?It was stopped, literally, less than 2 minutes. I had to yell at a guy, who radioed a guy, who told a guy to stop the train so we could get off.

The people on the train looked at us like we were challenged but without the understanding that usually goes along with those looks. They just looked at us like we were fucking idiots. Why I cared I cannot begin to explain.

When we were back on the train Friday morning I was determined that this would not happen again. Therefore I told both Doug and Brett to count the number of items we had so we could disembark quickly.

As the train was slowing for arrival in Philadelphia I slid my phone into my pocket. The train pulled into the station, we gathered all our crap and off we hopped before the train started up again. Success- so I thought. I went to call Evelyn to find out exactly where she was only to discover my phone was not in my pocket after all. It was still on the train, heading for DC.

I immediately headed for the Amtrak office to report what I had done. They were very helpful, BTW and took all my info, vowing to call if they found it. In the meantime I called T-Mobil to put a temp. disconnect on my phone just in case somebody found my phone and wanted to talk to” hot Asaian beauties” that were actually in Asia and not some old Anglo women sitting in some boiler room in Des Moines.

I was mad at myself for losing my phone. However, it was an old Samsung phone and I’d been hoping to upgrade soon anyway. It did however have phone numbers in it that I didn’t have backed up. Amanda has already admonished me for that.

Friday night I went to get my toothbrush from our tackle box. We keep all our toiletries in it. Most importantly it had all our meds. It wasn’t to be found. The tackle box had been left on the train by mistake. Doug or Brett was supposed to count the number of items that we had we entered, to make sure we had that exact number when we exited the train. I called Amtrak and put in another report, stressing that I really needed that tackle box. My meds are not filled at a national chain. I couldn’t just cruise into a Wal-Mart, CVS or Sam’s Club and get refills.

I NEEDED my Effexor. I emailed my doc explaining what had happened. Since he’s not in private practice though, he doesn’t usually check his patient emails on the weekend. I was screwed. I knew I’d be OK for a day without  it. Two would be pushing it. That night a customer service rep from Amtrak called. They’d found my tacklebox and were putting in on a train to New Orleans. I was hoping to make it there with my sanity in tact.

Saturday I was fine. Sunday, not so much, which is to say, I was insane.

When I woke up I was fine. We were in Asheville, NC, a place I’d been looking forward to seeing the entire trip. We were planning to go by Huntsville, AL late that day to meet a friend, Brenda, I’d met on Vibrant Nation. It was important to me. Just before breakfast though my head started hurting. I started with aspirin, hoping for the best. After breakfast it was hurting worse than ever. I called Brenda and told her we weren’t coming, but instead were heading for New Orleans, where my meds would be waiting at the Amtrak station.

Over the next few hours I took every other OTC med I had with me in an attempt to kill the headache. I became a weepy mess, crying uncontrollably. I’d swing wildly between being too hot or too cold. The quillow that Evelyn brought along on the trip became a popular item. Eventually I took my Midrin, the only prescription drug that I had a few of in my purse. Usually, when I have a migraine, I take two and they put me right to sleep. Then when I wake up, my headache is gone. This time nothing. The pain remained. I could barely sit still.

I thought Doug was heading due south for New Orleans. I didn’t, or more accurately couldn’t, pay attention to the direction he was driving all day. We drove for hours through the Smoky Mountains, zigging and zagging. I got car sick for the first time in my life, and was not even able to enjoy the beautiful scenery. When I finally discovered we were still so far north I got mad and hissed from the 3rd set of seat “WTF? Why aren’t we further south?! Get me to New Orleans!”

Remember “for better or worse?” Poor Doug. He was getting the worse part in spades. Evelyn and Brett were doing their best to help me.

What I didn’t know was that he was actually still trying to get to my friend Brenda’s house. She’d offered some of her Effexor to me when I’d spoke to her earlier in the day. I hadn’t wanted to meet anyone though when I was a weepy, snarling mess with a headache from Hell. He stopped in Knoxville and he and Evelyn went into a Walgreens in an trying to pry an Effexor for me from the pharmacist. No dice.

I was detoxing in the backseat of a green Kia van. It was NOT a good thing. I’m really surprised they just didn’t take to me to the zoo and get me darted. It would’ve been a blessing for all concerned. I was like Joan Crawford tripping on acid while having PMS. Just before stopping for dinner at 8pm I took two more Midrin.

I wore my sunglasses into Cracker Barrel so people wouldn’t see my red eyes. I ate dinner and by the end of it I was feeling loopy. My head still hurt, but now I was buzzed. So I went into the store part of Cracker Barrel and started trying on Halloween hats. As you can see, I was looking good!

Evelyn got us a room at the Fairfield Inn. Usually on the way home, she and I share a bed. Doug and Brett share a bed. I announced that I couldn’t be responsible for keeping my clothes on that night. When I get sick, I usually feel hot; and clothes just come off whether I know it or not. I laid on the bed in a T-shirt and undies with a pillow next to head trying to block out the light and the TV. Eventually, I feel asleep. The villagers rejoiced!

And, as I suspected, by the time I woke up this morning, I hadn’t a stitch on. Thank God, Brett was still asleep on the floor. So today is another day, but I think the worst is over. I feel like myself again and haven’t eaten any small children or anything- yet. We are heading for New Orleans. Keep your fingers crossed.

PS- Please forgive any typos. We’ve got to get on the road. Somewhat normally yours, Michele

The big giant heads always wanted reports on the bathrooms at their stores, restaurants, etc.; as they should.

Of course knowing that, you’ve just gotta ask- “Then why are so many of the public restrooms beyond nasty?” Sorry, I haven’t a clue.

I came down hard on anyplace that couldn’t keep their bathrooms clean. And what I saw in some men’s rooms I cannot even discuss in polite company. Besides it’s Sunday morning and I just don’t want to go there.

Anyway, apparently finding “quality” people and by that I mean people that can all of these tasks at the same time can be problematic. The turnover rate of mystery shoppers is high.

It was an OK way to make a little pin money; but you’re not going to make big bucks doing it. And in Houston you drive your ass off. From time to time there were really great assignments. We got to go to swanky restaurants and see how the other 20% live. Of course then I had to go home and write extensive reports. The more the job paid, the more details they wanted- usually. Sometimes the reports would be 10+ pages long.

Also, you don’t have to pay anyone for a list of companies who hire shoppers. The info is out there. You just have to dig a little.

Eventually I quit doing the” regular” shops.

Then I started shopping employees with a camera hidden on my body. Very James Bond-y. That was cool; and so much easier. The big giant heads could just watch the interaction and see for themselves what was what. Those were my favorite. They paid much better too.

No one ever suspected me. I was good. I gave people every opportunity to do their jobs correctly. I was always fair. When servers, checkers, sales people treated me well and did their job competently, I was effusive with praise. When they didn’t, they suffered later at their evaluations, I can assure you.

One company actually sent me $50 and $100 bonus checks I could hand out on the spot to their employees- if they handled a transaction with me as they should. It was great when I could hand out those bonus checks. Unfortunately, if they did meet the criteria, I still had to show them the bonus check they didn’t get and then explain why. Usually that was a bummer.

However, one woman was a real piece of work. She was such a bitch! I really enjoyed waving that check at her and explaining that she wasn’t going to get it. “I don’t need it anyway!” Of course you don’t.” I felt like saying. ” I’m sure. You just really enjoy wearing that ridiculous vest, I’m sure.”

Anyway, I only mention all this now because I was reminded of my secret shopping days yesterday while we were traveling in Virginia on the way to North Carolina. Evelyn and I went into the ladies bathroom to do what you do and this is what we saw-

How I wish I’d been doing a shop on that place!

Things had been so crazy and cozy on our New York trip that Doug and I had not had any “quality time”. In fact, because he’d forgotten our anniversary on July 16^th and then with the final preparation for the trip, quality time has been quite scarce of late.

Since Thursday night would be the first time in almost 2 weeks we’d have a room to ourselves I decided to make the most of it, even if the conditions were somewhat less than optimal. Of course saying the conditions in that room were less than optimal would be like saying the Titanic had a small leak.

Doug was still downstairs with his mom when I went upstairs. She and I never really had a lot to talk about anyway, and now, with her physical and mental changes, we had even less. I wasn’t missed.

So I went upstairs and sat on what had to be one of the most uncomfortable beds this tush has ever touched. Please keep in mind too that I always carry a certain amount of natural cushion with me. Thank God I had it with me then! You just never know when you’re going to need it!

Even with my natural cushion the bed was still truly uncomfortable. However, I decided to make the most of it. I waited for Doug. Now usually the hint of slap n tickle gets him going like an Indy car. However, when he entered the room I could tell he was in a real funk. So I decided to de-funk him.

I went to his bed and we maneuvered around to where we could both lay there comfortably. I laid there and he talked and I just listened. After a few minutes I stoked his chest, just his chest. He said “Sorry. My head is just really screwed up.” Never one to back away from a challenge I said “OK” but before I went back to my bed I gave him a quick caress in a more meaningful area, sure that would make his troops come running. ( Get your mind out of the gutter, no one sleeps naked at Casa Betty’s.)

Still nothing. Defeated, I go back to my bed and tried to figure out how much therapy for him was going to be. This was a problem that must be addressed quickly after all. Just when I was about asleep I felt the “hand” come over my side. All women know the hand.

Apparently Doug’s troops had all just been on leave a few minutes earlier.  Well I guess he cancelled their leave. His troops were not only ready; it was like they were on a suicide mission.  He was ready to storm the beach like the Allies on D Day.

Suffice it to say, his mission was success. We didn’t realize til everything was over that the bed wound up actually 4’ from its original position. There was a hardwood floor in the room. Brett knocked on the door and said “What are you guys doing in there- bowling?” Doug had scored a 300. I however, was left with a 7-10 split.

We thought Brett was sleeping on the couch in the den, which was in the back of the house. We were mistaken. Betty had fallen asleep on the couch in the den; which meant Brett was trying to sleep on the living room couch which was directly under our bedroom.

Sadly, we decided to close the lanes for the night without Doug trying to pick up that split. I was bummed; but he was better- at least for a little while.

?

Then Doug called me over. He’d found her. However, the hyper critical MIL I’d known for 28 years was gone. In her place was a doddering shell of little old lady. She stood there with her cane and her hair unbrushed- very un Betty. Although she hadn’t seen Brett in over 15 years, she didn’t  go to hug him or even smile. Nor did she really greet her only son, Doug. I didn’t expect-or get a greeting.

We let her drive us to dinner so we could observe her driving. She was blowing down the Boston Post Road like there was a fire and she was driving the fire truck. I sat in the back of her Volvo and hoped I’d live to see Houston again. I kept remembering all the Volvo ads I’d seen on TV. Doug drove us to her house after dinner.

She can barely get around by herself now. Even with the use of a cane, her mobility on a scale of 1-10 is about a 3.5.

I realized that the woman I’d quietly fought with for so many years was now gone. She has no fight left in her. Although my life will now be easier in so many ways, I still found it sad. When we got back from Best Buy yesterday she told me that she’d had an “accident.” I told her that was OK; It happened to everyone now and then. I remembered my own mom and was glad that although she died last October, she was spared that indignity.

Doug is devastated. Although he was witness to my mom’s decline and death I guess he just never expected to go through it himself with his own mom. So for now, we’re on the way back to Houston. We have to get back. The census called and they want him back for another phase of the operation. Doug’s sister is going to CT next week to see Betty for herself. Something has got to be done- soon.

Sorry to be so maudlin.On to other parts of the visit.

Some things there though were just as I expected. Some things never change it seems.

When we got to her house that night I realized she’d really gone round the bend. The house was over 80 degrees downstairs. Upstairs, where we were going to sleep, was hotter. Brett tried to open a window for me. They were unopenable, shut permanently with screws. There was only 1 ceiling fan in the entire house-in her bedroom. “Don’t touch that thermostat” we were admonished. There was no moving air. Doug, Brett and I were dripping with sweat. It was stifling.

I heard baby chicks in the next room. What is it with LOL’s and the temperature in their house? I just cannot imagine myself EVER getting this way.

I literally tore the house apart and finally found a small fan, just before telling Doug that we were going to have to go to a motel. I stripped everything off, put the small fan on the nightstand and went to lay on the bed in an attempt to cool off. I laid down and actually went “OW”. I believe it was a pillowcase covered brick or something she’d gotten on sale at the mortuary supply company’s “Going out of business sale.”  I mean, who’s going to complain there after all? These things were hard! Doug fell asleep right away. The bastard!

The next day she said “Michele, I’ve never seen your hair so long.” “No, you haven’t. I’ve been growing it out for awhile now.” “I guess you just don’t brush it anymore.” ZING!

“Here, I’ve got some things for you.” “Oh, you shouldn’t have.” I said. “I didn’t. This is how I clean out my out my closet.” ZING!

There were lots more zingers, but as you may surmise, it’s almost 2am here and we got up at 5am today to make the train, so we could make another train, so we could finally meet up with Evelyn in Philadelphia today.Lots of adventures today; but I’m too tired to go into them now. Thanks for hanging with me during this trip.

Back to the funny stuff manana. I promise.

Needless to say, Betty doesn’t have wi-fi and any “fi” for that matter. I thought perhaps her condo complex might have wi-fi.o in first Alas, I was wrong. The average age here is about 112 I think and computers aren’t part of their reality.

Brett is showing his grandmother an I-Pad, trying to explain to her why she needs one. If she buys one, don’t expect to here from me again because I’ll have dropped dead for sure.

NYC was really fun, but I’m glad to be heading home. I miss our pack. I forgot to get Daisy’s nails cut before we left, so she’ll be sporting 20 little Ginsu knives by the time we return. I’ll just let Brett go in first. ( He wears jeans.)Then I’ll go in 5 minutes later. It should be safe by then.

We to take two trains to get out here. The trains themselves were fine. Unfortunately there were two boys who obviously should’ve spent the summer at reform school. Do they take 5 and 7 year olds. ?Actually, it wasn’t their fault. Their grandmother refused to do anything about their heinous behavior. I really do like kids. But kids running wild and shrieking in a confined space for 90 minutes- not so much.

She took us by the houses in the $5 million range today. They were about 2 miles from her. They were right on the water.

Anyway, lots more to tell but I’m getting the hairy eyeball which means I need to get off this computer. Hopefully I’ll be somewhere tomorrow night with regular internet and I’ll post again. Bye for now

1. It seems bizarre that there are so many window AC units. They are everywhere- even in what I would assume are ultra ritzy buildings. We even saw them on posh apartments on Broadway. Amazing.

2. Your choice of footwear isn’t as big a deal as I thought. I brought 5 pairs of shoes. I could’ve gotten by with less.

3. I didn’t see nearly as many crazy people as I expected. Although the ones I did see were doozies.

4. It appears that most of the buildings, other than corporate types: hotels, etc. are rarely cleaned (the outside of them that is). If there a reason for this? Is the grit and grime considered historical? or Is there just a lack of folks with pressure washers around to do the job?

5. The food here, in the middle priced restaurants, for the most part, doesn’t seem terribly overpriced. I ate a gyro from a cart. It cost $4 and was a better deal for the money than I would’ve gotten in Houston. However, the three small beef tacos for $21 were somewhat of a shock.

6. I think this may be the epicenter of the universe for Yorkies, not Maltese’s, Chihuahuas or even Toy Poodles. Interesting. I saw mostly pedigreed pooches, not so many mutts. Of course they may just chill more in the suburbs.

7. Many restaurants charge for refills on ice tea. I personally only know of 1 place in all of Texas that does that and people are still bitching and moaning about it after 20 years.

8. I never felt unsafe.

9. I’ve never been anyway where there was such a dense concentration of restaurants. I thought San Francisco had a lot. However, it pales in compare to NYC. How do all these places stay in business? I know there are a lot of people but really…

10.” Please, excuse me and thank you” just don’t seem to part of the normal vernacular here. In fact when I used them, most folks looked at me like I was an alien. Thank you waves were completely non existent. Have common courtesies just been totally abandoned?  I only saw one man get up on the subway to give a young  mother his seat- and that was after her toddler sat down next to him in what was the only open seat. The young do not give way to the ancient. Not that I witnessed anyway.

11. There are a lot of really ancient little old folks out and about on their own. You don’t see that in Houston.

12. Tanning salons here must be big business. Do people really buy the whole Vitamin D is good for you? thing- just ignore the melanoma eating your face? I saw a much higher percentage of overly tanned women here than in Houston. You only need 15 minutes a day of sunshine a day after all.

13. The people on the subway are intrepid- toting everything from tubas to teacup poodles, double strollers to strombolis. I sure there have been much more bizarre things taken on too. I just didn’t happen to see them.

14. The NYC tap water is phenomenal. Much better than we have in Houston.

15. Everyone seems to live life on the streets with great abandon, for the most part ignoring traffic laws and all common sense. When you get your address changed to NYC are you then issued an invisible bubble which protects you from suicidal taxi drivers, maniacal bus drivers, distracted bicyclists and the rest of the public running about with such obvious purpose?

16. Do people here ever really relax?

So there you have it. Do you think my list is accurate? Or am I just a small town girl woman, come to the big city?

Evelyn is still insisting that Brett leave his shoes in the hallway. I cannot disagree with her edict. God made him handsome, funny and smart. I guess he had to be given something to keep him in check- but that? Detectives could use his shoes after he’s worn them on a hot day to make the most hardened criminal confess. Whips, dripping water, electrodes to the twins? Any of that would be preferable to being next to his shoes when they’re off his feet. “OH GOD NO!, NOT THE SHOES! ” I bet I could actually sell them to law enforcement. Hmmm…

Monday we struck out to do our touristy thing- which we did.We took the subway or walked everywhere. The subway wouldn’t be so bad, but it isn’t just down, then up. Sometimes it’s down then up then over then down and up to just to get on 1 train.. And it is hot down there. I can’t say I wasn’t warned. My friend Yakkity had told me to take buses. However, they just don’t seem to get you everywhere you need to be. So I have become queen of the mole people.

Our first stop of the day was Central Park. It was great; and with it’s gently sloping paths and bridges it was much prettier than Hermann Park in Houston. Being a big fan of Law&Order it was very interesting to see a place I’d seen so many times on TV. I thought of laying behind some shrubs pretending to be a corpse, but with my luck, someone stranger would’ve found me before Doug did. Actually with my luck it would’ve been NYPD. Then I’d have some explaining to do.

Doug and Brett thought it’d be great to walk a lot yesterday, so we did that too.Luckily the past few months I’d been doing the treadmill at the gym and boy am I glad I had. There was no way I could’ve kept with Doug had I not.( He’s got long legs and likes to walk fast.) Evelyn kept up with us for a bit, then slowly fell behind, needing to stop for a rest. We stopped and waited with her. After her second rest period she started bitching. “How much further?” She asked this at least one time every block from then on. Doug and Brett both rolled their eyes and looked at me. Just WTF did they think I could do?

I looked for a Sherpa to schlep her. I was willing to pay big $$$. However, we were in a sherpa-less zone, per NYC ordinance- 126.5. Apparently when they weren’t kept  busy, those amazingly strong little men would just go about picking people up. Some hoity toity types complained. So a few rotten apples ruined it for everybody.

I know we walked down Broadway, Park and Amsterdam Avenues. Although my friend Yakkity said I’d be tarred and feathered if I didn’t wear attractive footwear, since I knew I’d be walking a lot, I wore my New Balance. Contrary to her warnings, people didn’t actually cross the street to avoid me or cover their children’s eyes to shield them from my poor choice of footwear. I was not shunned.

As it turns out, I didn’t actually have on my offensive footwear all that long anyway. My shorty socks kept slipping down, thereby giving me a ferocious blister. I girded up my loins and kept on going for another 6 blocks. Finally however I gave into the pain and said “Screw it”. I took off my shoes and walked down Broadway in my socks.Of course now I slowed and was walking at Evelyn’s pace and I had to listen to her cuss and bitch-more- a lot more. Between Doug, Brett and myself we did odds and evens to see who’d push her in front of a taxi. I lost.; so the guys went on ahead and I waited for my chance, just looking for the taxi driver we’d had a couple of days ago.. Lucky for her, I never saw him.

In the meantime I was still walking down Broadway in my socks. I owned it. A man with an enormous camera took my picture. I think WWD may actually be doing a feature about this new trend. At least I hope that’s why he took my picture… In retrospect I think I may instead be featured in Glamour magazine with a black bar across my eyes.

We finally got the Museum of Natural Science. Unfortunately it was about 4:15 when we arrived; it closed at 5:45. That museum was enormous, much bigger than Houston. It had multiple rooms of cool dead things- well their bones anyway. They had a turtle on display the likes of which I’d never seen. The shell, by itself was 8′x10′. That’s one big ass turtle. There was also skull of a T-rex in a glass case. That skull was at least 3′tall and 6′ long.

There were rooms upon rooms of skeletons. Most of them looked pissed. Doug said “This must’ve been one scary time.” The museum had just the forearms and hands of a dino. It’s arms were at least 5′. The hands with claws were terrifying. ” The better to tear you apart with”… The exhibit was fascinating yet sobering at the same time.

Probably the highlight of our visit was when we saw Evelyn hanging from the ceiling-

We got to it before she did. She saw us laughing and knew right away why. She laughed too. That’s why I didn’t push under the taxi.

Now in the interest of accuracy I must admit that actually, this set of choppers came from a Megalodon. For those not familiar this is one ginormous shark. And by ginormous I mean 4x the size of a great white.

Doug played hausfrau yesterday and picked the room up yesterday, then went and did the laundry. What a guy. They have a laundry room here in the basement. There is no charge to do your laundry. It’s free- laundry soap included! Who knew? I certainly didn’t expect that here. You do have to do it yourself. But I figured like most things here it’d be kinda pricey even to do that. It wasn’t like we were doing laundry for the Duggars. We didn’t have 30 loads; but it was just a nice surprise anyway to save some money.

Evelyn and I went to the Expo at BlogHer yesterday. There was nothing to buy, all the sponsors had some kind of giveway or contest to enter. Lot of booths were encouraging you to take photos with their corporate icons. Mrs. Potato Head from Hasbro was there, as well as the Sun from Jimmy Deal Sausage. Evelyn had her photo taken with Poppin Fresh. She said she wanted a photo taken with someone who was bigger than she was! Still traumatized from watching myself on 10 minutes of film in media class at Ketchum Thursday morning, I wasn’t in the mood to be photographed quite yet.

I’d been looking forward to last night for a long time. I was going to finally meet someone I’d known for a year, by only online. Last year I was invited to be part of the blog circle at Vibrant Nation. My postings are the same there as here except they lag behind a few days. One of my readers there Track, has been commenting a lot pretty much from the get-go. Anyway, when I told her I was coming to the city we decided to meet. We finally did. She is a real hoot and so TALL!Standing next to her I felt like one of the garden gnomes from Travelocity.

It’s funny, she’s so very different than I am, but we hit it off right away. We walked around Manhattan with Brett as our tour guide. Track didn’t know where anything was. I’d assumed everyone in NY knew where everything was. Call me ignorant. I’ve actually had people from the north ask me if everyone in Texas had a horse. I guess people from everywhere make assumptions.

Before meeting her though we went to have dinner. I looked around and found a place called Hell’s Kitchen. It was near 9th and 44th. The menu had a lot of interesting. sounded items. We order shrimp fritters for an appetizer. Two small, tubular fritters arrived. If you put them together they weren’t quite as large as a regular size hot dog. They were good, but they were $10. We also ordered fajita tacos for $21. Three, 6″ tacos arrived. They had meat, caramelized onions and cheese. There was nothing else served with them. They were very tasty too. Unfortunately after spending thirty dollars we were still hungry.

I know I sound like a yokelette; but for the most part, if you spend $30 in Houston you’re not hungry when you finish- even if it is 2 people. Fajitas for two there are usually about $25. I know, I know, we’re in NY. Houston has hoity-toity places too. We just usually don’t frequent them. We were good last night though and used our city manners. Doug didn’t even clip his toenails on the table or anything.

So we’re getting ready to head out for the afternoon. I’ve got my sunscreen on and my hat. We’re off to be tourists for the day. More later.

Overall the trip up was relatively uneventful, except for my inadvertent flashing of numerous drivers of 18 wheelers. Of course Doug added to the trucker’s fantasies by sticking a few dollar bills into the top of my sundress left over from filling up the car.

Then of course the whole NJ incident.

Anyway, we finally get to the Staybridge Suites. We had a room reserved with 1 bed and 1 couch. This was for Doug, Evelyn and myself. We get upstairs and lo and behold no couch!,Evelyn called Hotels. com assuming they would straighten things out. There would be no straightening. There’s no room at the inn. Sooooo, rub a dub dub, we are three in a tub bed- 1 bed. Like most guys, Doug has had fantasies about 2 women in bed with him I’m sure.

Somehow though, I don’t really think the fantasy included the two of us!

So the cup half empty view is we are three well upholstered people sharing 1 bed. Very Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice. The cup half full view is Hotels.com reduced our bill by $600! So it’s not all bad. That part was actually pretty great. I told that if he wanted to celebrate our big trip I’d just crush up 6  Bendryl and put it in an eclair for Evelyn. I figure that way she’d sleep right through our celebrating.

We went to the People’s Party last night at the Hilton. The party was hosted by The Bloggess and a few of her friends. The Bloggess was receiving her legions of admirers in the ladies room. Although I’ve read her blog for a long time, I’d never met her in person. She was really sweet and more laid back than I’d expected somehow.

Evelyn and I spent some time in the Geek Lab at BlogHer this morning. The techie types hang there to help the tech challenged such as myself. Well this morning it was Evelyn who was having a real problem; and when Evelyn has computer problem it’d be like Doug having ED. (which he never has). It’s a huge problem. There were some giant heads from Microsoft in the Geek Lab. Unfortunately they could be of no help.

As the minutes went by she was getting more and more exasperated. It was not a pretty scene. She was getting crankier and crankier and louder and louder. I left to go to a session, fully expecting to see NYC animal control complete with tranq gun and one of those nooses on a pole on the way to pay Evelyn a visit. I finally caught up with her three hours later. She was sitting next to the man of her dreams- a big bear of an IT guy who worked for the Hilton. He’d gotten her online again. She was so happy I think she might’ve just done him there had he asked.

The cup half full view is Hotels.com reduced our bill by $600!

We skipped out on the afternoon sessions to go to the hotel and catch a nap. We’re lucky we got here. You know all those crazy taxi drivers you see in the movies? I didn’t think they were real. Well we met the one they based them on all today. This man was foreign born, from where exactly I do not know. We got in the taxi and he floored it. We went about 40 feet and he locked up the brakes, nearly missing another taxi. And by nearly I mean less than 6″. After the third time I started praying and asked Evelyn if she’d happen to be packing a cross, rosary beads or any other religious artifacts we might implement.

After a couple of more near misses we finally made it back to the Staybridge. I would’ve kissed the sidewalk had it not been quite so disgusting. I still can’t believe she gave him a tip. I would’ve given him a few Valium or perhaps Quaaludes.

So  if you’re planning a trip to this fine city please remember to do a couple of things. First remember to double check your room reservation, second bring every religious artifact you can find, and three make sure your life insurance is up to date (with a clause that pays double in case of auto accident).

I’ll go into that later.

Stupidly followed Brett down to the subway yesterday after my media training.I said “Do you know where you’re going?” “Yeah, come on.”

And just like that I followed him down to the subway. The train came and we got on. In about two minutes time I discovered that he had  NO idea where we were going! It WAS TO BE AN ADVENTURE!

Normally this would be OK. But since I’d only had three hours sleep I was not interested in playing Christopher Columbus. All I wanted to do was go back to the hotel and get a nap.  Instead I trudged up those subway steps into the NYC heat and humidity. I think both the heat and humidity were in the 90′s.

It was so hot and sticky I felt like I was back in Houston. Of course my mood was enhanced by the fact that Brett had taken us North Dakota by subway. We walked and walked and walked some more. By this time, my undies were plastered to me by a lovely layer of sweat.

So as I’m slogging down the street just at that moment my beloved phones. “Hurry! Hurry!” Now of course I thought it was something important. Do you know what his hurry, hurry was for? He was in line at the Shake Shack and didn’t want to lose his place!

How did my normally smart husband come to think that  just situation demanded a “Hurry! Hurry!?

Did he not know me at all? When I finally saw him I inquired. He had nothing to say. The shakes there were really good though. I recommend them. Be prepared to wait though. The lines are long and don’t move fast.

More from the blind school later.

P.S. Please forgive any type-os, I without glasses and Evelyn keeps bitching about using the touch pad to correct them.

I’d been interviewed many times over the years, but it was always about my face painting, something I’ve done for over thirty years. To be interviewed about my writing was something else entirely. In the class we learned a number of helpful things such as: stand up to be interviewed when you can ( it keeps you more energized), make sure you keep it simple, and always bridge the interview back to whatever point you want to make. He reminded us to always repeat the name of your blog as the interview is ending. All this is good info for sure.

We had two interviews  filmed at our training session. After each interview we were critiqued. I made Tom laugh a lot during my intereview, which he said that’s always a good thing.  We were even lucky enough to be given a disc of our interview to take home. I watched it again when I got back to my hotel. Overall, I think I came off OK. I stumbled over a few words, but managed to get my message across without looking like to much of a ditz..

This was the first time that I’d really seen myself on film in 10 years, except a quick snapshot now and then. At first I found it quite disconcerting. I looked older than I thought I looked. (I guess I really have to put my mini skirt and belly shirt away now after all.) But overall, I thought I came off OK.

Sadly though, I do realize now why Katherine Hepburn wore all those turtle necks in later life. I’ve decided now that I’m faced with one of two choices- 1st- get a Lifestyle Lift, which is basically just a neck lift, or 2-move to Siberia, where my soon-to be purchased wardrobe of turtlenecks and dickeys will be put to good use. You just can’t do high necklines in TX 9 months of the year. Not unless you want to have a heatstroke; or look like a complete nut job or perhaps even be mistaken for a zombie.

Anyway, there’s lot’s more to tell. Big drama at our new hotel in Manhattan. But now I’m off to shower and change for the party tonight. Wish me luck. I hope to make lots of contacts that with any luck will turn into new readers.

Thanks for coming along on my crazy ride. I’ll post again after the party.

We spent last night in VA. We slept in, got up and had a pretty good day until we got here. Now before everyone thinks I’m just a complete bitch, please note I don’t hate everything in New Jersey. Doug is from New Jersey. I know there are some good things here. Sadly we’ve just had a hard time finding many today.

Doug grew up in Plainfield. Since we got to NJ about 4pm we decided that we had enough time that he could take us on a tour of his hometown. He had always told me that the town he grew up in was like where Beaver and Wally lived in Leave it to Beaver.

Plainfield is not like Mayfield. I don’t remember any ass-less jeans being sold on Main Street. How would I know they were ass-less you ask? Because the mannequin in the window wearing them was turned so her bare butt was facing the street. They were lovely. I do think I saw them once before though, in an HBO special called “Pimps Up, Ho’s Down.”You know I’m not a prude, but honestly…

I don’t think that June Cleaver ever had ass-less pants. Things have changed in Plainfield, and not a little.

We were driving down the main street when the car in front of us stopped cold so they could have a conversation with a couple of guys that had waved at them. We waited for perhaps 10 seconds, then Doug honked the horn. It was a southern honk. A brief honk, just to let them know that others were waiting. One of the two guys in the street looked straight at Doug and said “White Motherfucker” as he waved his friend off.

We were off to an auspicious start.

Doug’s memory of exactly where things were located  in town was a little foggy so I said I’d just ask someone. Providing directions for a stranger is not an unusual occurrence in the south. Most everyone I know is usually happy to help. So I rolled down the window, said excuse me, and proceeded to ask a man waiting for the bus a question.  This guy looked at me, held out his hand and actually demanded that I PAY HIM for the directions. Can you believe that shit?!

I felt like Chevy Chase in Vacation when he got lost in east St. Louis.

710 Pemberton Ave.

Doug finally found the house where he grew up. Everybody piled out of the van so we could get a photo to show Doug’s mom. The current homeowner pulled up while we were there and Doug explained that he was just driving by having come from TX on his was to NYC. He just wanted to see the place where he’d lived for so many years. I thought perhaps he might’ve been invited inside for a quick peek, but an invitation was not forthcoming.

However, since we were not cursed at or charged for the photo, I chalked the experience up as a win.

We decided to eat dinner at a place featured on Diners, Drive-ins and Dives. It was the Starlight Diner in Edison, NJ. The architecture and the ambiance inside was just great. The food was so-so. So now I’m pissed at Guy Fieri too.

We finally got settled into the Extended Stay America about 9:30 tonight. What went on here tonight you would not even believe. We have three computers with us. However, only one of us can be online at a time; and we paid for the privilege of having it! It wasn’t high speed, DSL, or even dial up. I think it’s actually two monkeys clacking coconuts together. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I didn’t have a gun with me.

I got so frustrated I decided to take a break and lay on the bed for a minute. The mattress feels like a cardboard egg carton. Not an egg crate mattress, just the carton. Of course Doug has been sound asleep for hours. The bastard.

Woman from TX runs amok at Edison Extended Stay America. Film at 11.

Last week I was informed that I was one of only10 bloggers to win a media training session with  a big NYC public relations firm. Hopefully I’ll learn a lot and be prepared for the crush of interviews when I become a media darling because Bodacious Boomer has become a ginormous hit.! LOL. I’m told the value of the session is $500. I just hope I can remember some of what I’m told during the four hour session.

Tomorrow night is our first party for BlogHer. I am going to The People’s Party. The Bloggess and some of her friends are hosting it. I’ve never been to one of these before and frankly, I’m a little apprehensive. But what the Hell, how badly can I screw it up? I’m just gonna be me; and I’ve said before, I’m not an acquired taste. People either really like me or really not, pretty much from the get-go. Wish me luck!

So here’s what happened on the road today:

I wore a cotton sundress today. It’s loose everywhere but in the bust. Let’s just say my cup runneth over. When I wear it out and about to go shopping I have a white tank top I wear underneath it. However, just  to ride in the car I didn’t really think about it.. After all, who’s going to see me anyway but family?

We drove over 500 miles today. I’m usually good to go in the morning-awake and alert. But after a hundred miles or so, I always get sleepy. SoI lay the seat back a little and doze. Well, I noticed while dozing today that a lot of trucks were honking at Doug. I said “You’d better be more careful.” He just smiled and said nothing. Once when he stopped to get gas he put a couple of $$’s in the top of my dress. ” Partial payment for later.” It had never crossed my mind to remove it.

A few hundred miles down the road, we stopped to get gas again. I was hopping out to go to the loo. Doug said “You’d better tie your straps up first.” Then Doug explained what all the honking had been about. He actually used a visual aid to explain. He had taken this photo when I was tilted back sleeping while he’d been getting gas earlier in the day. (I’d slept through that stop.)

Actually the driver in an 18 wheeler would’ve gotten a much better view. Fabulous.

Miles traveled- 1368

After months of urging by some of my readers I finally decided to post a photo of me. So here you are. Do I look like you imagined?

I know I shouldn’t really smoke and I’ve been trying to cut back. But I figured that being on vacation I can indulge just a few on my vices.

Thanks to Poorly Dressed.com for this fabulous photo of some woman who really seems to enjoy life.

The good news is that we’ve come 800 miles. The bad news is we have 850 to go.

More tales from the road manana. I’m fried. Sweet dreams from Atlanta.

Remember my beautiful cocktail dress that I bought for the trip? Well I noticed the other day that the inventory control tag, the little gizmo with ink bubble, had been left on the dress  by the clerk at the store by mistake. Why the tag didn’t beep when I left the store I do not know. Anyway, it was. And today I took the dress back to them to have the thing removed.

“Do you have the receipt?”

Usually Doug has every receipt he’s been given. He keeps receipts for Diet Cokes at the Sonic, candy bars at the Target and other important items just like that. Of course today, when I asked  him for the receipt he couldn’t lay his hands on it. So I went in without it. I figured I’d get a fight and I got one.

Of course by this time, I had the tags off it and it was in a nice garment bag. I went in and explained what had happened. A lovely young male clerk said “Bummer” and was proceeding to remove the tag, when his anal retentive supervisor came over and started in on me.

Where did you get this dress? When? Why? Why didn’t you get the tag removed” I felt like it was 1478 and I was in the middle of The Inquisition.

Since when is it my responsibility to make sure the tag is removed?” I retorted.

And so it went…

I explained that I was on my way to NYC and running late; and that I had a car full of people waiting on me.

“Do you really think I took this home, put it on a new hanger and into a new garment just to bring it back here after I stole it?

“Well you can’t expect to just walk out of here with this …” as she grabbed for my dress.

“That’s exactly what I expect to do. And what I intend to do.”

By this time I had the dress back and was preparing to leave the store.

She started to come around the counter. I was prepared. There was no way she was going to get this dress away from me. This bitch was going down. I was going to grab onto her tight little bun and not let go.

Of course Doug was no way to be found and when I stalked out of the store expecting him to be right there with the van, he wasn’t. I was ticked. I felt like Rocky; but not in Rocky I where he lost. I was pumped.

All’s well that ends well though. I have my dress. It has no tag.

Goodnight from Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Miles traveled today-  340.

Friday morning I went to Lab 31, a hoity-toity hair salon for a cut, highlights and conditioning. Normally, I wouldn’t consider going to a place like that. Their regular price is $165.00. However, I had a Groupon and saved $100.00.  I was going to get highlights, but Amanda reminded me that the last time I did I looked like a hooker and Evelyn- well she said she’d just harass my ass all the way to NY if I did.

They did say though if I wanted to make some money while up there to go right ahead but just remember to pack my ultra high heels that Doug loves so much and I never wear out of my bedroom.

For once I really did listen and I didn’t get the highlights, opting instead for all over color with a deep conditioner. I have to admit Leslie did a really great job. Sadly, without another Groupon I doubt I’ll go back. It’s just too pricey for me.

This morning I got plucked, (yes, plucked). It hurt like crazy. One hair just did not want to give it up. It did of course eventually, but in the process I was hurting enough that my feet were actually jumping off the table. I still find it amazing that women, myself included, actually pay good money to be tortured. You’re just gonna suffer if you’re vain I guess.

I didn’t look all that bad before I went this morning (I didn’t have to go in wearing a veil or anything), but had I not gone in, I would’ve been OK for awhile, then in the course of a day would be mistaken for a Ulysses S. Grant look alike.

Why does it always happens like that when you’re away from your home and your 10x mirror?

After my haircut on Friday, and plucking this morning I went for a mani-pedi this afternoon. Graciously, Doug didn’t complain about being the ATM for all my beautification. However, he did inquire just when he might benefit from all his largess. He even said since time was tight he could think of a way he could see my haircut and pedicure at the same time! What a guy-always thinking of ways to make my life easier!

It’s been just over two weeks now since my forgotten anniversary. There’s been no slap n’tickle, horizontal mambo, boinking or anything else like that going on since. Doug knew better than to slide his hand over my side when I was asleep looking for any kind of action. He’s learned over the years that when I’m truly pissed that I’m the one who’ll choose where and when things will start again.

But since starting tomorrow we won’t have a bedroom to ourselves for two weeks, I’m going to surprise him with a party tonight. Besides, if I make Doug wait much longer I think he may just implode.

And for me, this is about as good as I’ll ever look. I might as well make the best of it!

I think we’ll have Internet at all the motels on the way. If so I’ll do my best to do a quick post and maybe some photos so you may follow our exploits along the way. Keep your fingers crossed for us. It’s going to be a bumpy ride!

It was not a scene suitable for children or those with a weak constitution.

Holly, who writes the blog, Are you Serious? asked me “Does wearing Spanx gives you a case of swamp ass?”

Since I’ve not worn mine out on the streets yet I could not speak with any authority on this issue. However, living in the South, swamp ass is a frequent topic in the summer months.

However, I decided to be pro-active and well prepared hoping to forestall this most disgusting problem. So I did some research and found this product- Manopon.

Now, I can read and I do notice that the advertisement clearly states that it is a “Masculine Hygiene Napkin”.

However, does that mean I and my fellow sisters must contend with the misery that is swamp ass just because there is no product called Womopon?

Yes, women can get it too, even if our private areas are configured different than a man’s. Hot, sticky and sweaty is still hot, sticky and sweaty no matter which sex you are. (And this isn’t the fun type.) Any woman that says different is just too embarrassed to admit it.

Please.

I can only fathom 1 reason why they may not be suitable for the fairer sex. And that would only be if to use the Manopon you must secure it around that “very special part of a man’s body”; to make sure the napkin stays in place and doesn’t migrate, eventually trying to make a break for it at an inconvenient time.

However, as any woman over the age of 55 can tell you, most of us learned over 40 years ago how to deal with pads that migrated. Remember those tiny elastic belts?

Weren’t they were just wonderful? I know I certainly loved having to deal with them every month.

Over time however, we learned how to keep those damn pads in their place, even if it meant we had to walk like we had a case of jock itch or had just ridden a horse non stop for three days . If we could do that then, we can do it now.

Manopons for everybody! Swamp ass be gone!

Christmas card FAIL

See if you can come up with a better caption. Also, please don’t forget to give it a score, 0-100  and explain why you scored it that way.

When the blog redesign is finally finished, you’ll be able to access the Bizzarometer easily. And thanks to the folks at Awkward Family Photos for this gem.

So Doug has decided that I need a whole new wardrobe for the trip. Actually I don’t know if he really decided that as much as I decided that and he knew better than to complain.

This is because he missed our anniversary yet again this July 16th. I was absolutely sure that he wouldn’t miss it again so I didn’t plan anything wonderful for myself that day and actually went ahead and got him a couple of things.

But that morning there was no Happy Anniversary! with a big kiss and flowers. So I said nothing and waited til he came back from work. He was sitting on the couch watching sports when I dropped his presents on his lap and said HAPPY ANNIVERSARY and stalked off.

“Oh  shit.” was all he said in a somber tone.

First I got pissed; then I got hurt, and didn’t talk to him for the rest of the night. Actually, I hadn’t expected a lot of “stuff ” because of the upcoming trip- but I did not expect to be totally forgotten. I told him he was being passive-aggressive. He denied it, explaining that he’s just been overwhelmed at work.

He apologized. I suggested he take his apology and put it in an inconvenient place where only an experienced proctologist might ever see it.

I think he was worried I’d go all Lorena Bobbitt on his ass; or more accurately on his most prized possession. This would be tragic, especially since it’s still in such good working order.

So since the 16th I been shopping- a lot. Macy’s, Coldwater Creek, lots of places. Now to be completely honest, I have been shopping in the sale racks, for the most part; and, I haven’t revenged shopped. Everything I’ve gotten, I’ve actually needed. I’ve needed at least 80% of the stuff anyway.

So I guess overall, him forgetting this year actually worked out pretty good for me. Besides, he knows he’s still on the hook. Happy anniversary to me…..

I saw on CNN today that Linda Hogan (50 ), ex wife of Hulk Hogan, is now engaged,  engaged to Charlie Hill, a friend of her son. Charlie is 21. Now I don’t know this to be gospel, but I’m guessing that Charlie is a  mimbo.

That’s perfectly OK with me. I wish her only the best.

Would I want to do that? Not so much. Which is to say never.

Why? Why would any older woman really want to do that? That is be with someone so drastically younger.

Years ago, there was always an obvious reason for why an older woman would want a younger guy. Most older guys couldn’t either get it up or keep it up. Or if they were lucky enough to they were good for once a night- maybe. Guys in their 20′s and 30′s are like the Energizer Bunny. They can just keep on going and going and going…

But with the advent of Viagra, any man, regardless of age or infirmities, has the ability to turn his significant other into a piece of ground round with his tallywhacker by taking that one tiny blue pill. Now they too can just keep going and going and going…something that not all wives are completely thrilled about, so I’ve heard.

I mean what would you have to talk about? I guess you talk about a movie or meal that you shared; but what after that? When I talk to Nate (22) and Amanda (24)  about current events, most of the time our views are pretty similar. But on some topics our opinions are vastly different, different because I’ve been there and done that; something that they have yet to do. Life experiences can just really change the way you see things sometimes.

Also, I don’t know one woman in her fifties who doesn’t have menobrain moments. Our friends and family expect and usually accept them. (Of course sometimes that acceptance comes with the rolling of their eyes or the WTF? hands.) But would a 20 something really want to have to put up with menobrain moments all the time? OK, maybe at the very beginning, when it’s still laser beam eyes time, but what after the laser beam stops and reality sets in.

You can’t share memories of college, his parents may not even have been in college when you were. Then there’s the whole dynamic of his family to deal with.

And when you talk about your childhood, pre computers, pre I phones and pre IMAX you’ll sound like you dated Fred Flintstone and grew up eating brontoburgers.

I just don’t get it. Am I confused? Is there something I’m missing?

But now that I’m about to go on my first vacation in years, I thought I’d just “try on” a pair to see what all the hub-bub is about. After the salesgirl handed me a pair I looked at her like the RCA dog. Was she on crack? I wondered. This thing looked like it would fit a 10 yr.old, a skinny one that is.

“Just go try them on”, she said casually.

“Trying on” is not actually an accurate description of actually what went on in my dressing room. A more accurate description would be to say there was a steel cage death match between Evelyn, myself and the Spanx. I kid you not, the match lasted at least a full five minutes.

I’d been instructed to gather up the material in the each leg, then pull them on, one leg at a time. Easier said then done, I can assure you. In the movie The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, Burt Reynolds receives a thong as a gift. He goes to put it on and yells out “It’s like trying to put two bowling balls in a marble bag.” After my dressing room debacle yesterday, I can totally relate.

Back to the dressing room. I had one side of the Spanx, Evelyn the other. She yelled “PULL!” exasperatedly.  “What do you think I’m doing?!” I fired back. And on it went. I’m telling you this thing had a life of it’s own. I felt like the priest at the end of the Exorcist wreslting with the Devil.

When we finally got it completely up, I looked at myself. I was dripping with sweat, but, amazingly, jiggle free. (Keep in mind, I haven’t been jiggle free since the Clinton administration.) With more than half the skin on my torso now compressed and smoothed by the insanely strong latex I now had an amazing resemblance to a giant peach colored bowling pin.  Evelyn looked at me and said “Skin on the baloney”. I can always depend on her to make me feel better.

I forgot to mention, there is even a hole in the Spanx so you may pee while still still wearing it. I’m planning to dehydrate myself prior to ever wearing it, so that won’t be a problem. And as far as pooping goes- I can state without equivocation- that there will be no pooping while I am Spanxed. I realize that there is no way I could ever extricate myself from this thing without help. Also, I vowed that Doug would never see me go struggle with this. Childbirth, OK, putting on or getting off Spanx-no.

But as you have probably surmised, I bought the Spanx. However, it seems that the pair I tried on were industrial Spanx, not really meant for the public; having been developed for military use, they should have never been put in a store.) Instead I bought the Power Panties, which although also quite constrictive, are at least manageable by yourself if you have a lot of patience and a good sense of humor I was told.

So… I did get my Power Panties on last night all by myself last night- thank you very much, and immediately felt the need to find a cape and leap tall building with a single bound.

Didn’t you ever hear of Super Middle-aged Woman? Don’t you laugh at that. I’ll zap your ass with one of my super powers. I’ve got em. Do you?

Since I’ve become a grown up I’ve slowly morphed into a pear shape. I chalk the transformation up to subsidence. (That  just sounds so much better than saying I had too many tacos and too few hours on the treadmill over the decades.)

Anyway…. after discussing the article we concluded that since she’s an apple, she’ll probably croak first from an MI. We deduced that I’ll live longer being a pear, but I won’t know it because by then my memory will be completely kaput. I just hope I don’t wind up like Ten Second Tom from Fifty First Dates.

I first started noticing that my memory was getting sketchy a few years ago. At the time my mom had severe memory deficits. I got freaked out about the state of my brain and got checked out by a neurologist. After memory tests and an MRI, I was declared “normal”.

“Reduce the stress in your life”. Yeah, OK. I’ll let you know how that works out doc. Now if only that guy from Publisher’s Clearinghouse would show up at my door. Sadly, Mr. Clearinghouse and his prize patrol in which he carries that big ass, stress relieving, check hasn’t as yet shown up at my door. Nor am I planning a move to Tibet to chill out with the monks. (Although they never have bad hair days or worry about what to wear.) Hmmmm…

Therefore I must depend on using what functioning gray matter that I have left. I think actually my neurons and synapses are all still up there. They’re just engaged in some stupid feud like the Hatfields and Mc Coys and not talking to each other most of the time.

So until Mr. Clearinghouse shows, the feud ends or I move to Tibet, I’m stuck with doing mental gymnastics every day. To that end, I recently signed up with a site named Lumosity, a brain training site, guaranteed to build your brain.

I’m not looking to do brain transplants or rocket science anymore; but I figured I had to so something to keep my razor sharp edge and not depend on removing my shoes to count to twenty.

I’ve been doing these brain sessions for 5 weeks. Most days I’ll do cerebellum crunches  for 30 minutes.

I thought I was doing pretty well, that is until I clicked on the little tab that actually had a chart showing my progress. Sorry it’s a little fuzzy. Does it look fuzzy to you? Overall, I was pretty happy with my scores til I got to “Memory”.

How did I compare? Look at the LITTLE blue bar on the graph.

I scored just higher than a cup of Jello, but lower than brussel sprouts. That score explains a lot. Especially why I was able to leave a dressing room at the mall yesterday with my shorts on inside out, zipper and all,  without even realizing it.

On a high note, Doug didn’t notice it either. Why I take solace in that, I cannot explain.

I think Doug’s going to have me chipped with a LoJack before we go to NYC. Looking at my memory score of 3%, I may not even complain.

Has your memory failed you? Come on, tell me. Make me feel better.

I don’t know how many stores were there but it was lot; and they’re expanding to add more. If it gets much bigger I’ll have to pack my PJ’s- if I had any that is. This place was big! Smartly, Doug and I arrived there at 2pm. The hottest part of the day.

The rain is gone in Houston so the sun and heat are back full force. Stupidly, I forgot to apply my sunscreen yesterday, so I ran from store to store with my head down, trying to escape the sun. For the most part though, unless I throw an absolute shitfit Doug refuses to use sunscreen. So he just walked around in the sunshine, never even opting to walk under the awnings.

Having embraced this look his whole life, now when he has his shirt off, Doug looks kinda like Frankenstein, all pieced together. His head, neck and arms are a completely different color from the rest of his body. His torso and legs look white. The rest of him looks like mahogany. Great look if your Ethan Allen furniture.

This is really a bummer too, because when he was younger he could’ve been a model. These days, not so much. Not for swimwear anyway, unless someone’s looking for a model with a patchwork quilt kinda quality. Of course I love him nonetheless; but I am getting really tired of being ignored.

I’ve never in my life withheld sex to get something I wanted, but I think it may just take that to get his attention.

One it looks just God awful. I’m afraid one day he’ll wake up and look like a wrinkled saddlebag with eyes; but more importantly- I’m really worried about Doug getting skin cancer.

I welcome any suggestions about this issue.

They had a mattress that was $33,000. Yes. that right. No, the price was not a typo. They said that assuming the mattress actually lasted all 20 years it would cost you $4.50 per night to sleep on it.

So, knowing that everyone reading this just has to have the very best, I present for your consideration:

A mattress from the E.F. Kluft Company. The mattress comes with a 20 yr. warranty. For $33,000 it better come with a handsome live-in masseuse, who spouts sonnets which idolize me on the hour every hour. I’d better wake up looking damn fine.

Now I must admit their print advertising is persuasive. Just look at what this woman looks like lying on their mattress.

I admit she looks pretty good.

Apparently, their mattress is miraculous. Some say transformative.

The problems came when she got off the bed. See for yourself.

So the question is- Would you want one?

Enough already!

I am the only one who doesn’t give a flying rat’s ass about Lindsay Lohan and am sick to death of hearing about her? She shows up on my TV every damn day no matter what channel I have on it seems, even CNN.

I don’t think she’s been on PBS yet, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.

I just don’t understand it at all. It isn’t as if she’s the biggest star in Hollywood. In fact she hasn’t done anything of note in some time.

Unless I’m really confused I perceive her situation as this:  She’s a 24 yr. old who hasn’t been able to control her drinking or drug use for years and has been in and out of rehab many times. I’m not saying that she’s a bad person because of this. Your 20′s can be a really turbulent time fraught with bad decisions. I know. I made my share when I was that age.

So she’s gets yet another DUI. She’s given yet another lenient sentence then basically tells the judge “Fuck You” by not complying with her court ordered probation, instead jetting off to Cannes when she doesn’t even have a movie showing there.

Am I wrong? I don’t think so.

Her sentence was a joke. She’ll serve 3 weeks- maybe, all the time in a private cell, where she can sleep, read, write her memoirs or basically do what she wants 22 hours at day.

I think she should be in the general population, where she might actually learn something from other women who perhaps started off just like her, minus the stardom. She should talk to some real women who have to live with the fact that their drinking not only caused the death of another, but cost them their own freedom in the process, and not just for 3 weeks.

How will she ever learn if she’s continually treated like a pampered princess? Growing up is a lot harder for some people than others; and I imagine that growing up in a place where your every move is scrutinized and photographed much be more so.

I think that after her coming stint in rehab that she should try to disconnect from the whole Hollywood scene and should move somewhere far away from the glitz with a support team (not her posse) and spend a year just getting her shit together. I think she should buy a small farm or a ranch and really get her hands dirty reconnecting with the real world. A little sweat can be good for your soul.

She’s got the resources to pull it off without anyone ever knowing exactly where she was, if she really wanted to.

I wish her well, I do. But in the meantime, get out of my face, because I’m sick of yours!

We’re kinda like Thelma and Louise, without the crime spree or Brad Pitt.

Pretty soon we’re leaving on our big road trip, driving straight up to NYC then dawdling sight seeing on the way back to Houston. All in all we’ll be gone two weeks. I must admit I’ve never traveled with a friend for two weeks. We’ll be together all the time, in the car, sharing hotel rooms etc.

I’m laying low until our departure, making to-do lists, paying bills and having the house sitter come over so the dogs can get comfy with him before we leave.

Anyway, Evelyn, AKA Thelma, just left for a 4 day trip this morning; and if a trip ever begged for a crime spree, this would be it.

Evelyn is going to be locked up with Mae, AKA the Wicked witch of the West, for 4 days and 3 nights.

What could Evelyn have done to deserve such punishment? Did she juggle cats? Did she fart in someone’s general direction? Is she just going for sainthood? (Unlikely since Unitarians don’t believe in saints.)

Nothing, she did nothing. She actually chose to do this. Or more accurately, she agreed to go do this. (I’m seriously thinking of having her mental health evaluated before we leave on our trip due this decision.) What if she goes completely wacko while we’re up there? Would anyone in NYC even notice?

Mae asked if Evelyn would agree be a volunteer at a saltwater fishing tournament. She will be checking the competitors in on her computer, issuing ID’s- that sort of thing. They are staying at a ramshackle motel by the coast. (It’s not even Motel 6 worthy.)

The wicked Witch of the West has been a good friend of Evelyn’s husband for over 20 years. Mae’s part of a unique group that meet once a month to play Dungeons and Dragons. Evelyn agreed to do this weekend trip as a favor to her husband Ken. (He owes her big time.)

Evelyn even took care of Mae for a week after her mastectomy. She did however, draw the line at having Mae stay with them a couple of years ago as Hurricane Ike was approaching. (I guess even Unitarians have their limits.)

The monthly Dungeons game at Ken and Evelyn’s house Saturday night and although I was there during the afternoon, I made sure to get my happy ass outta of there before the croan swept in.

I’ve  decided that Mae is actually the love child of the WWOTW and a Dementor from the Harry Potter movies. She can just suck all the happiness out of a person.

I just can’t be around anyone that negative or see any inherent goodness in that woman. That’s why I could never be a Unitarian. So I guess the Methodists are just gonna be stuck with me.

But after reading a lot about what to wear,  I decided to unpack my I love NY t-shirt, lavender polyester jogging suit embellished with puff paint and sequins, and my visor. You known the one- it’s white fabric with the green plastic in front to shade your face. (Very handy on a sunny and windy day.)

I also told Doug that he couldn’t wear any of his “cabana outfits” either while we were there. He was disappointed of course; but he just pulled up his big boy undies and dealt with his disappointment.

I’d already hidden Doug’s white loafers. (I don’t want all those Yankee women just crawling all over him.) What really got him though was when I told him he had to leave his fanny pack at home. That was a bitter pill for him.

What we’ll do without all our vacation finery however, I do not know. But wearing all our best stuff on the trip would mark us as tourists for sure and we might even wind up getting mugged.

Doug even thought I should bring my new short shorts with “Moonlite Bunny Ranch” printed on the back. I decided against bringing those though as well as my new iridescent pink lipstick, and blue glitter eye shadow.

I mean I’ve just got to save some fun stuff for when we get back after all.

So at this point I’ve two big suitcases and now, nothing to put in them.

Exactly what do all those fancified folks in the big city wear anyway?

Tonight I’m back in the real world! Doug’s replacement phone from T-Mobil arrived today, so I have my phone again.

I still don’t know what the problem was with my gmail account account. But I have it back, my gmail account that is.

This afternoon I called the Google corporate office and was told there is no “live support” for gmail.

Finally I was told via email that there had been “suspicious activity” on my account. WTF is that?

Suspicious activity?

I mean other than my usual emails arranging black market organ sales, selling infants and plutonium (not at the same time), nothing has been out of the ordinary in my emails.

How can I prevent it happening again if I have no idea what caused it in the beginning?

I think they should explain this. Am I wrong?

Google said to respond to their notice and they’d text me a code to get going again.

That would be just dandy, but Doug has my phone. His cellphone committed hari-kari last week and the replacement from T-Mobil hasn’t arrived by mail yet. So here I sit without my phone.

We got rid of our land line 2 years ago. So I’m in a fix.

And, since we’re still looking for a car for Doug, he has my car.

Sooooo, here I am, phone-less, car-less in Houston- a city which for the most part doesn’t have a mass transit system. I am probably 4 miles from the closest bus stop-; and it’s a park and ride for commuters who want to go straight downtown.

Obviously, that would do me no good.

I am back in the dark ages. Well, not completely dark. I have cable and I have internet.

I just have no way to talk directly to anybody and it’s monsooning again outside- real Act of God type weather. So barring a life threatening situation I’m not going next door to borrow my neighbor’s phone. She’s at work anyway.

I feel like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, sans Wilson.

I do have my pack to talk to, so I guess that’ll just have to do til Doug gets back.

This is truly, a very strange feeling and one that I can state that I really don’t care for.

First- There’s only 1 more week of the second phase of the Census going on and boy am I glad. After the first phase, the giant heads cut their workforce drastically as was expected. They reshuffled the people that were going to work in the second part so the same people didn’t go back to the same properties they had already canvassed. Doug had a great crew the first time; they all worked hard, got along, returned phone calls and showed up for meetings.

Now, not so much. Apparently there had been a number of people in the first phase that had been fired, then they complained to the EEOC about it. Well they got rehired to put an end to their bitching and guess who got them? Doug.

He is not a happy camper now and is really frustrated. Before his crew was always at the top in production. This time round, it’s last. WTF Census?

Second- Yesterday I went to Barnes and Nobel to look at a couple of books. There were at least 15 people sitting on the floor reading. They were not all little kids by any means. There were plenty of AARP’ers on the floor too. WTF B&N? You used to have comfy chairs everywhere. Now, the few chairs that you do have look like they came from the interrogation room on Law and Order- wooden, old and worst of all- hard. And you don’t even have enough of them. Are you trying to discourage customers from staying too long? Do you want people to just keep moving along?

Well if that’s your goal, you succeeded. I moved on along in short order without buying a thing. I’m ticked. There’s a Borders Books in town. I’m going to go check it out.

And now two entries from the TMI files:

In May I wrote about a product called BraMates. This a product for ladies such as myself who have significant boobage. If you have TB and every other woman you know also has TB, you won’t need to even read this paragraph. But if you suffer from MMS or know someone who does, you’ll want to know about these; read on.

I called the company and they sent me a pair to try. I told them I’d do just that and write a review- good or bad. Well, I’m happy to report that the product did do what it was supposed to do, which was reduce sweat from my ta-tas onto my bra.

Since I live in Houston where the humidity is so pervasive, having a sweaty bra in the summertime is just something you have to get used to if your bra doesn’t have training wheels on it. And as if the yuckky feeling bra wasn’t bad enough, you can get a nasty rash called intertrigo.

Well, I’m happy to report that BraMates has solved that problem. No more rashes for me!

I liked them so much that I ordered and paid for, a pair for myself and Evelyn. (I was going to show you my invoice, but it has all sorts of personal info that I can’t figure how to delete; so you’re just going to have to take my word for it.)

Also, if for some reason you don’t like them, BraMates has a double your money back guarantee.

Yesterday I read about a simple solution to another problem I wrestle with in the summertime. Dinosaur feet. I wear Crocs sandals about 98% of the time from March to Thanksgiving. Because of that the skin on my heels gets super dry and would occassionally even start to crack. I tried every foot cream on the market with limited success.

Then yesterday I read about a home remedy. So I gave it a try. Eureka! It worked! Here’s the recipe: Take two aspirin- the generic, cheapo kind work great. Crush them and put the powder into about a T. of Vaseline. Mix and apply to the problem area. Wrap with a piece of plastic wrap. I didn’t have any so I cut a hole in a baggie for my big toe. Then put a sock over your foot.

Sexy it is not. Don’t expect a lot of action.

Go to sleep. Unwrap the next morning and marvel at your smooth skin. My skin is smooth as a babies tushie. I’m still going to use body lotion, but it is so much better. Who knew?

If aspirin can do this to funky skin though, then why are we ingesting it? It’s a conundrum.