Thanks, but no Thanks

I got a certificate today in my work mail for a free chair massage at Staples. It is a perk for a special sale with special hours designed for my holiday shopping convenience. The special sale hours are from 6 am to 8 am, but I am not feeling terribly motivated to take advantage of either option. I wonder who really thinks, “hmmm… it is 6 am and I am really jonesing for some copy paper and hey, a massage at a mega store with everyone watching me would be great right about now too!”
If they could bring the massage chair to my house and rub my neck while I watch NCIS reruns at night after dinner, then I might take them up on the offer. I don’t normally get up at 6 am for anything and $10 dollars off my entire purchase just doesn’t do it for me. If you want the coupon, just let me know. Laters.

Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving to all. I have on my fat jeans and am I ready to eat! I love this time of year; enjoying family and friends and taking time to think about all the good things I have. The fam and I are headed out for a few days of away time. Enjoy your Turkey Day!

You Say Potato, I Say Bear

Today a headline in the local paper read something like this, “Man Survives Ursine Scare.” Being a decent student, I was able to recall with minimal to intense concentration that Ursine meant bear. I am a big fan of easy-speak and disliked having to interpret the headlines so early in the day. “Bear Scare” had a better ring to me, but maybe the reporter had already used his rhyming quota for the month. The rest of my train ride was consumed with remembering similar terminology and I came up with porcine, equine, canine, and bovine and then I stopped right there and couldn’t think of another one. Every day that my brain pulls these bits of information out of the random files is a good day for me. Laters.

Oopsie

I let the dreaded “almost cuss” out last night while driving. Lately, the terrible traffic and ever worsening drivers around our fair town has really gotten to me.
I had Sher and Reag in the car when I was almost side-swiped by a speeding Mercedes doing a lane change without looking. I let fly, “why you son of a….” stopping short of the cuss word, but unable to fill in the blank with anything clever. I hastily finished with, “terrible driver,” but who am I fooling, it almost came out.
So there I was, left with a terribly phrased, unsatisfactory curse, the knowledge that I almost slipped, and another helping of road rage. Perhaps a few days off for Thanksgiving will cure my dyspeptic attitude. That, or laser cannon attached to my car that I can use freely on deserving idiots. Laters.

Me Likee

Would you like some scary honesty? Yes? Ok, good, I thought so. I am ignoring those of you who said, “no, not really” anyway. Today I had surgery jealousy. As the blue-jacketed volunteer whisked K away for his turn with the warm blankets and happy medicine, I felt a twinge of jealousy. I realized that I like warm ginger ale and stale soda crackers and the pre-op repeating of my name 3 times to verify who I am and what procedure I am having. Warm blankets and fuzzy socks with non-slip feet are kinda my thing and they are in wicked abundance in the O.R. I like all the fawning and attention and push-button nurse calls. Rolling in bed,  right to my destination, all while wearing a bouffant cap and backless gown is just alright with me.


While K had all the fun in the back, I had to sit in the very cold waiting room, sipping mediocre coffee. Right next to the sniffling lady furiously crocheting a blanket. (You all know how I feel about crocheting) I was also forced to watch Regis and Kelly and The View, shows which rank as high on my torture list as water-boarding. If ever I have a choice of patient or designated driver, I know which one I am choosing. Laters.

A Terrible Thought

I am afraid that when I grow old I will be so cantankerous that no one will have anything to do with me. Maybe the kids will keep me in my room and throw scraps under the door, just like an animal in the zoo, and say things like, “Gosh, don’t go in there. Mom just isn’t herself lately.” What if all my good manners go out the door and I forget to say please and thank- you.


What if I talk to myself in dark corners and forget to comb my hair down in the back, so that my bed-head is obvious to the world? What if my glasses are smudged and my wig askew? What if my pantyhose are saggy and rolled around the ankles and what if I have no choice but to wear orthopedic shoes with slits cut in the side for my prodigious bunions?

What if Meals on Wheels doesn’t come to my street and I have to eat all my breakfasts and dinners alone with just my parakeet for company?

What if I cannot hear, and I end all my sentences with, “WHAT?? What did you say?” Who will want to talk to me then?

What if I never learn to knit or crochet or can or garden or all the things that old ladies do? I suppose I will have to just stare at the sun and wish I had been more zealous in acquiring old lady skills when I was younger. Laters.

Lots More Where This Came From

For your viewing pleasure: a few of the many and varied nostril shots of Sher I found when I downloaded the pictures from my camera. Thinking maybe I should I hide the camera, as it seems like the self-portraits are getting out of hand. Laters

Friday

Feeling generally lackadaisical, but I think that it is because the monster adrenalin high that I got from this morning’s road rage has worn off. I have never seen so many terrible drivers out at the same time. Except, I guess, for the last time I drove to work. Suddenly the train doesn’t look so bad. My favorite idiot of the day was the elderly gentleman who ran his red light while I had the green arrow. He flipped me a nonchalant “bird” for trying to make the turn. I must confess that I seriously, oh so seriously, considered t-boning his car, but restrained myself in the nick of time.
I am anticipating a lovely Friday night in, and since I have a roast simmering in the crock-pot, I don’t even have the “what to fix for dinner” stress. I love it when I am proactive. Might even play a hot game of Yahtzee with the kids.
I asked for a raise today. I think that it is way past time. We’ll see how that goes. I wish you all a lovely week-end. Laters.

Everyone On My Train Is Weird Except For Me

Who am I to say anything if you want to wear a white plastic raincoat on a non-rainy day and breathe loudly through your nose while you read work reports?


Who am I to say a word when you look at me condescendingly as you wait to get off at your stop, and all the while your suit jacket is firmly tucked into the back of your pants.

I won’t look when you pick your nose and roll your prize around for a while, just for fun.

I’ll turn a blind eye and the other cheek when you hit me in the head with your overstuffed briefcase without saying “sorry.” I am sure that you have much more important things to do than apologize for being jerk.

You like rap? Hey, I like rap! So it is good that we can listen to it together from your headphones. You, in your seat near the bathrooms and me in the next car, but the bass line is still crystal clear. And I’m down with that.

You know who you are, sweater-knitter lady. You know it is better to give than to receive; and you are doing your best to keep all the nieces and nephews flush with mufflers and stocking caps, not to mention your crazy multi-colored sweaters. Where do you find those yarn combinations anyway? Knit one, purl two, I am crazy jealous of your mad skills.

You who are not afraid to sleep on the train; we salute you. The thought of snoring and drooling in front of complete strangers doesn’t deter your from your much needed nap on the way in to the salt mines and I for one, admire your plucky fortitude.

Laters.

Traveshamockery

Tomorrow is Veteran's Day, a time to remember those who served our country with honor and dignity. It is also known as "the day I scramble for a sitter." I think that if it qualifies for a national holiday, then mothers should automatically have it off from work as well. It is difficult for a working mom to cover the less popular holidays like MLK Day and Veteran's Day, but I truly appreciate the symbolism regardless.


On the bright side, I did see that the US postal service was collecting mail even though it is technically a holiday. As far as I can ascertain, with their usually sparkly sense of customer service, "collecting" the mail means that you can drop your mail in the slot or mailbox. I say big whoop- leaving the mail drop slot open means nothing to me if I don't get my daily dose of Geico fliers, bills and junk mail. Open for collection? Puhleeze! It reeks of a shameless promotion to do absolutely nothing and still act like you are offering a big service. But I guess that is government for you.

Anyhoo- Happy Veteran's Day! Laters.

The Plague Doth Reside Here

The whole family has the crud. Or the suds as I like to call it since I like Spongebob and the suds sounds better than swine flu or it’s less menacing nom de plume H1N1. Well, to be honest, only Sher has the H1N1, but K who never, ever gets sick (other than the time when I was preggers and he threw up all in the carpet- that was a hard mess to clean) has the suds in a maniacal, crazy sort of way. Lots of hacking and coughing and vibrant nose blowing, along with a hearty fever. Marvin school has refused to take Sher back ‘til next Monday per CDC regulations even though her fever has been gone for 3 days. I find myself peeved at this stringent policy but hog-tied and out of options. Ry is sick too, with K’s bug, but not as bad and is on bed rest and Dimetapp per the doctor. Reag went bravely all alone to school today but as soon as he realizes that everyone else is home eating ice cream and watching T.V. I expect he will succumb as well in rapid fashion.
I am quickly approaching the end of my sick time and am now pondering now the age-old adage about calling in dead, but I think I need to save my dead days for Christmas vacation. Laters.

Odds and Ends

When I put my hand in the pocket of my winter coat I haven't worn since last season, I never know what I might find. I thought today, "Hey, I can add this to the list of things I like about fall."
 On Tuesday, the first time I wore my cream coat, there was a tube of Bert's Bees chapstick, a wad of tissues, and a black ponytail holder. Last night in my green coat, I found a tube of soft pink lipstick, a dime, and two nickels. All summer that lipstick sat and I never ever knew I missed it. My everyday black coat was not so exciting and contained only a tissue and a button. It hasn't happened yet this year, but once I found a $10 bill. That was the best pocket surprise of all. Laters.

If Life Is Fair

I saw two old gentlemen at the park today. Playing baseball. At 10:30 in the morning. They pounded their gloves between pitches and loped around the bases as spryly as they could; laughing at each other for misses and errors. One was tall and spare; bald on top with the wrinkly face of a basset hound. The other was short and plump with a full head of thick, white hair and the round chubby cheeks of a youth. I wondered if they had known each other long? If when, they were kids on the playground, they made bets about who would go bald first. Who would be the first to blow a knee? I hope so; I hope they have been friends for years and years, through all sorts of turmoil and joy. I hope they have had many occasions to say, “put it over the plate,” and “hey, batter, batter.” I hope they have had Christmases together and long days at the beach with their wives and children covered in sand. I hope life has been good to them, as it should be, for old men who play baseball at the park. Laters.

And Now The Toast..

Here’s to nostrils, breathing, and good red wine.
Here’s to a wonderful party.
Here’s to a sexy, fun hubby.
Here’s to stilettos and painted toes.
Here’s to pain medication and white gauze.
Here’s to my new tuxedo jacket that I wear almost every day.
Here's to the tender moment and the shared laughter.
Here’s to my oldest son for his first slow dance.
Here’s to my second born for his red carnation.
Here’s to my daughter for her constant song.
Here’s to the Spirit who moves me daily in the right direction.
Here’s to my mom who calls to see if I am ok.
Here’s to inspiration, motivation, and constancy.
Here's to my family-near and far.
Here’s to optimism and courage to change.
Here’s to friends old and new.
Here’s to the little black dress and the comfy jeans.
Here’s to being happy.
Laters.