Thursday, July 28, 2005

Instant Comedy, Sister-style

My sister, Skinny Girl, and I have an amazingly close relationship. We were the last two of 14 children. We were planned pregnancies – I’m just certain of it! No, really. Okay, I’m lying (about the being planned part).

Anyhoo, when I lived in Southwest Washington, we would have lunch together once a week. We’d sit in this Mexican restaurant and laugh to the point of it being contagious. People thought we were nuts. We are two birds of a feather.

She sent me an email earlier today that I haven’t been able to stop laughing at. It may very well mean nothing to any of you three readers who actually read my blog, but I felt compelled to share it here.


Skinny Girl is OCD about her house. In fact, her house is so immaculate that if she wanted to sell it tomorrow, a realtor could stick a sign in the yard and Skinny Girl wouldn’t have to get the house “show ready” it’s that put together.

Apparently my 17-year old niece (The Model) has convinced my sister and her husband that she needs a dog. Skinny Girl has managed to avoid this for many, many years. Well, her husband finally gave in with the “whatever” response and now Skinny Girl’s immaculate home is overrun with all things dog.

My entire family has the same sense of humor I have. It’s a heckler-type sense of humor. Sarcastic. Silly. Raucous. Boisterous. Mischievous. Uproarious. Crass. There is a core strip of “snob” in all of us girls. This email is indicative of that sense of humor. Especially the third paragraph.

The email:

Gawd sis - I just do not have the energy for this puppy. 3:00 a.m. this morning whine, whine, whine, bark, bark, bark. While The Model blissfully sleeps the night away. I like my house how I like it you know? And now, just 2 days after I mopped my kitchen floor, I have a dog crate, dog dishes, dog toys, etc. I don't like it. I've vacuumed the floors half a dozen times already. It's just ICK. She went out this morning and had diarrhea on the deck. I'm like, hating this damn dog. 1/2 rat terrier - 1/2 chihuahua.

No lunch again today - gawd I hate this place. The new manager has got everyone wearing flip flops, no pantyhose, etc. Unreal man. It's a professional office not a gawd damn tee shirt stand by the beach. I hate what it's become. I'm working all kinds of overtime. I want so badly to go work for brand 'x' but they'll pay me so much less.

Anyway, I'm the only one that still wears pantyhose and heels. Friggin' jungle print capri pants and t-shirts. Flip flops with toe rings and white crusty heels. *shiver* Ever heard of LOTION ASSHOLES???? Yuck.

My assessment:

My sister rocks. You go girl. Tell it like it is!!! There was never any doubt we were cut from the same cloth!

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Empty House

So this weekend Auburn Aries will be at her Dad's. Though it was supposed to start another two week vacation from being a Mom, I've attempted to move the dates to better accommodate my schedule (selfish feels good once in a while, especially when my ex-husband is mean to me).

As it turns out I'll be kidless, Thorless, Hot Toddyless, The Handsome Princeless and Young Studless.

What's come of the universe that all my distractions and boy toy will be missing all at once?! This can't be.

Don't get me wrong - I know I have the office to paint, the back yard to dig out of its wreckage and boxes to go through and throw shit away for when I move. I have plenty to do to stay busy and lucky for me I'm comfortable in my own skin. But when a girl wants to play, it's always fun to play with a partner in crime.

Anyone wanna come out and play?

Monday, July 25, 2005

Five Hour Pony Rides

Saturday night I attended a birthday party for Metro, Juju’s beau. It was a fun party and Metro seemed a bit surprised but pleased at the birthday gift I gave him. It isn’t everyone who gets a pair of leather arm restraints for their birthday. I’m truly hoping I didn’t freak him out. I believe it’s always nice to kick the sex life up a notch by trying new things. And if anyone is capable of helping Metro experience the true benefit of being bound, it would be Juju!

The look on his face appeared to be a combination of “what the hell,” “this is fucking cool,” and “oh my god.” He smiled from ear to ear. He inspected the leather straps as a crowd of probably 30 people looked on. Sweet Juju took pictures as he held the restraints in his hand. And before he knew it, Juju had joined me and we strapped him down.

Juju’s eyes sparkled enough to light the evening sky. I could see the wheels in Juju’s head turning. It was great. It was at this point that Superman leaned over and whispered the date of his partner’s birthday in my left ear. In as much as there was potential for me to look like the freaky leather-woman at this party, I suspect I aroused some curiosity in more than just Superman.

It was great to see Boy Hunk also. He and his extremely fine woman. Good Goddess, that girl is so beautiful. She takes my breath away. Boy Hunk is one lucky man!

After the party, I joined The Math Whiz for the evening. We had a great time. Great conversation and a lot of laughs. I love the relationship I have with The Math Whiz. He is the ever consistent Virgo whose dry sense of humor makes me laugh. Ours is an honest, grounded friendship and I think the world of it.

He and I hooked up with The Handsome Prince later in the evening where the poor little Prince had to do shots of Patron to catch up with us. Poor Handsome Prince.

And then there’s Pony. I need to thank Ugly Pony for the time we spent together yesterday. Pony has no idea how much yesterday meant to me. In as much as we had planned on hooking up on Sunday afternoon, yesterday had a much deeper meaning for me than he realized.

Pony came by to work on my laptop which had been down for a couple of weeks. He showed up with his beverage of choice which I interpreted as my signal to fill the shaker and get on with my margaritas.

Pony and I had a chance to just talk. Just me and him. No drama. No big questions to be answered. No tears. I have a wonderful relationship with Pony much the same way I do with The Math Whiz and The Handsome Prince. I am friends with all of them as a group but am especially close with each one of them individually. I have to thank Toddy for sharing such wonderful people with me.

Yesterday was especially hard for me. I awoke feeling alone. I had some spontaneous plans on Saturday night (which I was very much looking forward to) fall through as quickly as they were made and the circumstances surrounding the change in plans left me feeling like I had been socked in the gut - by my own hand.

In addition, yesterday was my Dad’s birthday. He died in 1994 but every year on his birthday I ache to hug him one more time. To feel the crispness of the button-down my Mom ironed for him against my skin.

I would love so much to be able to tell him I love him and hear him reply, “I do you too, Honey” the way he always did. I’d love to smell the Skin Bracer on his face and feel the strength and power the love of a father (regardless of his shortcomings as a father) represents in your life, one more time.

Yesterday was also the anniversary of the passing of my brother, Willie. He died two years after my Dad. Willie and I were very close. There was a certain free-spirited nature to his laughter; there was so much depth to his soul; yet there was a sadness behind his eyes that was kind of always there even when he was laughing and horsing around.

I got pregnant with Auburn Aries four days before Willie died. Neither he nor my father got to see Aries. They’ll never know how she’s inherited the family humor or how smart she is or see her amazing red hair. They never got to hold the baby that no one in my family ever thought I’d have. Aries is a blessing that I’ve not been able to share with them. She’d have been the apple of both their eyes.

Yesterday was, for all intents and purposes, a triple shot and not the good kind.

I’m in a place where I feel small right now. I just want to be held and loved and told everything will be okay. And I wanted it so badly yesterday morning it hurt.

I moved through my day methodically and with little motivation. What exactly does one do with that sense of loss and that much emotion coursing through them? When you take all of the emotion that July 24th represents and couple it with Thor’s moving and all that I have to process about my future, it felt so huge.

I was alone in my thoughts and the knot in my belly just grew bigger.

I realized Saturday night the extent to which I needed male companionship but blew that by being an ass which ultimately changed my plans that evening. And though I did see Hot Toddy and Thor yesterday morning, their energy was not conducive to helping me channel mine.

And then Pony walked through my door. I very much enjoy my conversations with Pony. They are everything from deep and meaningful to philosophical to being just silly. Our talks are honest and unpretentious.

We talked about whatever came up - even abstract things like the degree to which Tim the Hot Toddtender has thrusting power with all those muscles of his. Pony began to laugh at this point and lost it when I acted as though I was the bottom beneath Tim and had to tell Tim he’d best pump his brakes because he was thrusting so hard. “That’s why I love you Auburn Pisces…” he said through laughter. I love you, too, Pony.

I ended up spending the better part of five or six hours with Pony. It was great. I’m thankful for him. Thankful that when he walked into my kitchen, he wrapped his arms around me and gave the tight, heartfelt hug that I yearned for all day long.

We never talked about what was really going on for me yesterday. I didn’t really feel the need to bring it up. I was so tired of thinking about it I didn’t have it in me to verbalize it. It didn’t really matter anyway – Pony gave me what I needed and he didn’t even know he did.

So Thank You, Pony, for being my friend and for being there for me when I needed it (and you).

Friday, July 22, 2005

Give up if

Things in my head are finally settling down. I’ve resolved myself to the lack of housemate. I’ve resolved myself to the idea of selling my house and buying something somewhat smaller and newer. I’ve resolved myself to the fact that I may struggle financially a little until I get the house sold.

But I’ll be okay.

It’s interesting, I was talking to one of my dearest friends yesterday and we were discussing how much it costs just to live. She and her husband have a combined income that is nothing to sneeze at and they experience the same financial woes as any of the rest of us.

My salary is nothing to snub your nose at either, yet I find myself wondering what it is I’m doing wrong that I’m not getting ahead like I used to. In all honesty, I beat myself up over it. It must be me. How is it possible to make that much money and still feel strained.

Then I talk to someone like my friend who experiences a similar curiosity and I realize it isn’t me. It’s this shitty economy. I’m not doing anything any differently now than I did before. Someone suggested to my friend that she shop at less expensive stores. But you get to a point in your life where you establish yourself and your lifestyle and who wants to turn back the hands of time five years? Not my friend and definitely not me.

I mean, sure I could buy a cheaper tequila than Patron Silver. But I prefer not to. Fact of the matter is, if I can’t buy Patron then I don’t want to drink (hush, Hot Toddy). Though Sauza Hornitos doesn’t suck in a pinch.

Besides, I can show restraint.

For instance, the other day I was in the liquor store and there on the top shelf I saw it… It was a thing of beauty. I stood there like a kid who’s 4’ tall looking at the top shelf of candy I couldn’t reach. My head tipped back, mouth slightly open, staring, curious and in awe. I was there to pick up whiskey and never expected to be lured by its beauty and power.

It was the biggest bottle of Patron I’ve ever seen. I wanted to touch it and hold it. It had to be mine. I’m a woman of reason (most of the time) and I know that right now is not the time to be paying $109 for a bottle of Patron Silver. But there it sat calling my name. It was as though there was a light from the heavens illuminating it. I could hear angels singing. I must have it, I thought to myself. It shall be mine…someday.

And there’s the restraint to which I was referring. Ordinarily I would have bought it and not even batted an eye.

I'm sure an angel wept as I walked away.

I could also shop somewhere besides Nordstrom but I can’t buy off the rack anywhere else because I have such a long inseam and am tall, so why bother. I may not have shoes to go with every outfit, but the shoes I *do* own are the best there are.

On a different note, Auburn Aries has returned home from two weeks at her Dad’s. In as much as I enjoy my grown up time and taking full advantage of it, I’m glad she’s home. All my the routines are in place once again. And, once again, I’m hearing those little things only Aries can say.

AA: Tomorrow is the field trip to OMSI. I need to bring a lunch in a paper bag, not in my lunchbox. And I have to wear pants or shorts and sneakers. And I can bring money if I want to buy something but I don’t have to. And about the lunch bag thing. The reason for that is because I’m a really good forgetter and I won’t remember to bring my lunchbox home.

AP: A really good forgetter, huh? That's just funny.

AA: Well, at least I know myself.

Yeah, she should, considering she forgot (lost) an expensive Columbia coat at the beginning of winter. Oh and then there’s the crocheted poncho-thing she forgot (lost) and the library book I had to pay for because she forgot to return it (which we found this summer in her nightstand). And then there’s the brand new sneakers she forgot at her Dad’s – I had to buy her another pair.

So I sent her on her way with her lunch in a bag. Not any ol’ bag, but a Nordstrom bag. I put her name on the bag so that it read, Auburn Nordstrom Aries. Even she got a kick out of that (yes, I shop for her there too – (hush Ms Karma).

Friday, July 15, 2005

Ch Ch Ch Ch Changes

Isn’t it funny how sometimes life can be going so perfectly in one aspect of your world and then crumble to the ground in pieces in another?

I have recently found a true friend in someone I’ve casually known for a couple of years. This man (a.k.a. Young Stud) works at Company X and we have gotten along from the minute I met him. Though he and I have always had a connection of sorts, he’s shown his true colors the last few weeks by being there for me when I really needed him.

Our friendship started out rather odd because the minute I laid eyes on him I blurted out how hot I thought he’d look at the foot of my bed, wearing a pair of boxer briefs with a collar around his neck. He’s young and hot and intelligent. You get the picture!

Young Stud has been my safe haven. With so many triangulated relationships in my life, it’s wonderful to have someone to talk to and spend time with that is disconnected from everything in my day-to-day world. Someone with whom I am the only person that matters at that moment. Young Stud has provided this for me.

For the last couple of weeks my housemate, Thor, hasn’t been himself. I haven’t been able to pinpoint why – I’ve merely accepted that there must be something going on for him and tried to be there whenever he needed me.

I’ve written about what a blessing this man has been for me and Auburn Aries. He has filled my home with warmth and love and laughter. He calls Auburn Aries Elfie and she calls him Santa. Every morning he comes upstairs saying, “Elfie, I need my kiss good-bye” as he enters her bedroom and kisses my sleepy-eyed girl. She wakes up with a smile on her face and in her heart just at the sound of his voice.

Aries’ heart breaks if she doesn’t get her Thor time. She immediately feels cheated. He honestly treats her better than her own Dad does. For an eight year old, Aries is big for her size. She’s 4’10” and weighs 125 pounds. Thor picks her up like she weighs nothing at all, throws her over his shoulder and spins her around – Aries giggles and begs him not to stop every time he does it.

He plays soccer with her in the yard, they’ve gone on hikes on the Butte together. She used to spend countless hours downstairs while he pampered her like the little princess she is with facials and doing her hair. He’s helped her cope with mean kids at school and worked at building her confidence.

I trust Thor with Aries implicitly and have from the very start.

As you all know, a family sitch has arisen that will be pulling Thor away from Aries and I. He told me about it earlier this week and it has rocked my world in many ways.

The first of which is my best friend is dealing with being separated from his beau. The emotional pieces of that will be around for a while and it breaks my heart to see Hot Toddy hurting. Everything inside of me wants to protect him from being hurt, yet I know there is nothing I can do about it. It’s his path and he has to walk it and know I will always be there for him.

The second reason is the love and energy that has filled my house since Thor moved in will no longer be there. I love pulling in the driveway and seeing Thor’s truck there. I love walking in the door and hearing that loud hello from downstairs. I love the way he pops upstairs to see what’s going on. I love having a cocktail with him on the deck while we talk.

One of the reasons I hated my house after Daddy D left is because it was empty. A 3000 square foot split level house with an entire downstairs with nothing in it. Thor breathed life into a house that had only known sadness. My house feels complete with Thor there and now it won’t be anymore. There will be a void where my friend once stood.

The third reason this bums me out is the logical, financial side. I walked away from Daddy D with an asston of debt. It’s taken me a year to dig my way out and with the income from Thor’s rent, I was happily on my way. Thor and I thought he’d rent from me for a year or more – we had that great a groove going. We even joked about how Hot Toddy was going to have to cohabitate with him at my place because he was never leaving!

I interviewed six or eight potential tenants after I ran my ad. They were too freaky, too prudish, too obnoxious, didn’t like kids, thought I lived too far out, they partied too much to suit my tolerance level. And then along came Thor. The answer to my prayers for one of the most difficult years I’ve ever had.

The fourth reason this totally sucks is I, once again, have to tell Auburn Aries that someone she loves is leaving her world and I have to pick up those pieces when she falls apart. This news is going to devastate her. For better or worse, she and Toddy and Thor and I are a family. She is as comfortable with them roaming around the house as she is with me. They are like her two gay dads.

When she wakes up and Toddy isn’t there when she gets out of bed she begins her eight year old soliloquy about how it “isn’t fair that Toddy isn’t here.”

Though I’ve always taught her that you can’t help who you fall in love with, it was Todd and Thor and helped show her that love knows no bounds. The first time she saw them kiss she shied away covering of the eyes saying “boys are kissing” to which I replied, “Remember, you fall in love with someone’s spirit and you can’t help who you fall in love with. It doesn’t matter what body their in.” After that, life with my gay boys was just about unconditional love for her.

The dynamic of my world is about to change and I don’t know what to do about it. Though I know I can float the house alone, I’ll end up working for the house. Running an ad for a roommate was so exhausting and could, again, take months. I don’t want to sell the house until I’ve been in it two years which isn’t until December which is in the middle of Aries’ school year. Most of the property within the school boundaries (to keep her in the same school) is farm land. I don’t want to move her mid-year to another school.

I’ve walked around all week wondering what I did that threw my karmic balance off. Have I done something at some point in such a way that I am now paying for it? Why can’t I get a fucking break? I’ve always lived my life by the seat of my pants believing that where I am is right where I should be. But why so many trials? Is it not enough I buried my Mom and one of my older brothers 15 months apart. I mean, how much more must I endure?

Then I have to stop and remind myself that I am Auburn Pisces. I am a strong woman. I have ovaries that clank and I’ll get through this. I always do. A big part of me wants to pull up stakes and retreat to some nice, large apartment and hide for a while. Simplify my life and let go of the abundance that owns me. Sometimes I don’t want to be the strong one – and when those times arise, Young Stud steps in and for just a brief moment in time, I can let go.

I like my life peaceful and grounded. My home is my sanctuary and right now I don’t know if I’m coming or going. Having buried four family members approximately ten years apart, and with the closest family member living 65 miles away, my friends have become my family. Toddy, Thor, Pony, The Math Whiz, The Handsome Prince, Juju, Metro, Ms. Karma, Fairy Godmother, Brown Eyes, Hot Momma, Oak Point Man and Young Stud.

I didn’t realize how protective I had become of my world and how much I like my world just the way it is. The answers are somewhere. Hopefully they will find their way to me soon. Goddess willing.

Patience and Faith. There's not much more I can do.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Someone is in the House!

It was a warm summer night. The house was quiet as Thor was with Hot Toddy in The Vortex. Auburn Aries was nearing bedtime and since she was going to be at her Dad’s for over two weeks, I decided to let her cuddle up with me in my bed. Being somewhat tired myself, I headed to bed around 9:45 p.m.

In as much as my body could use more sleep, I generally sleep from 11/11:30 p.m. – 4:30 a.m. I like the quiet of the morning. I like hearing the birds chirping in the morning (even though I hate them and don’t want them anywhere near me). On this particular evening I was looking forward to extra sleep.

Aries was sound to sleep and I had flipped on TV and was watching the BET Awards when I heard a noise downstairs. I live in a split level house, the lower level of which Thor rents. There are four entry points into my house. Two of which are downstairs.

As soon as I heard the noise, I silenced the TV. Then I heard it again. I could feel my body tense up. Thoughts raced through my mind: “Crap, Thor isn’t here. I’ve gotten so used to having a man in the house. Why didn’t I set the alarm? Oh yeah, because Thor can’t remember his code, gawd dammit! I wonder if he left the garage door open again…”

I sat there a little freaked out reminding myself if something goes wrong, I’ll hit the Police button on the control panel to the alarm system. And I didn’t have to worry about Auburn Aries because she was with me. That’s the only thing I hate about the location of her bedroom. If anyone ever did get into the house, they have to pass her room before the get to mine.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I knew I had heard the noise. I sat in the silence awaiting one more confirmation and then was going to go investigate...whatever that means when you’re alone in the house and hearing noises.

The noise grew closer and now it sounded like a click, click, click, click. It was approaching my bedroom. I have a hallway leading into my master bedroom with closets on both sides. The floors are hardwood.

I felt myself start to panic and then I remembered Momma Kitty, Thor’s cat. She must be upstairs. She gets pissy when Thor is gone to long. It must be her. Too freaked out to turn on a light and see what was actually approaching me, I instead chose to hold my hand up to block the light of the TV in my bedroom to see whatever I could.

Yes, I had turned into a frightened girl. No ovaries of steel that clank on this particular occasion.

I squinted as I looked down the entry into my bedroom. I saw nothing. I tipped my head sideways still squinting. Again, nothing. I looked at the floor from the doorway toward my bed, inspecting every inch of the white’ish carpeting. Momma Kitty is black and I knew I would easily see her. At least I was hoping to see her. At this particular juncture I would have been relieved to see her.

Still blocking the light from the TV, I scanned the floor closer to the bed. Then it occurred to me. Momma Kitty has no claws. She couldn’t have made that noise… What the….

And then I saw it… What I thought was a possum in my bedroom. I screamed bloody hell. Not an “oh you scared me, ha ha ha” scream but a full on “sitting in the movie theatre, I hope if I ever have to scream I can scream like they do in the movies scream.” Twice.

Auburn Aries never flinched.

I popped up and was sitting on my legs. I saw it weasel its body toward my nightstand and go under it. All I could think about was how I’ve always heard possums are mean. I sold both my pistols last year to prevent there ever being an accident with them if Aries ever got a hold of them. I’m powerless. What was I going to do – whack it with the book on my nightstand? I’m not getting that fucking close to it.

I didn’t know what to do. Besides which, I was now officially stuck on my bed. A prisoner. Too freaked out to move.

Suddenly it occurred to me it couldn’t be a possum… I had checked the garage door earlier and it was closed. It was one of Thor’s ferrets, Mina.

I’m about as okay with Thor’s ferrets as I am birds. They’re great so long as they’re someone else’s. I’m not touching them, I’m not feeding them, and I’m not bathing them. Thor has tried to get me to bond with these animals and I wanted no part of it. Thor tells me stories about how he bathes them twice a week and how they walk right into the shower downstairs when he gets in it – “they’re so cute” he’d rationalize.

Yeah, whatever. Keep the little bastards downstairs. That’s the agreement. Now that agreement has been broken. Grrrrr.

I watched Mina crawl under the nightstands, my bed, attempt to get into my dresser, waddle down the hallway into one of my closets – you know the one with all of the expensive sundresses from Nordstrom and my expensive shoes. I could hear her pressing against the garment covers.

I gave myself the same damn talk I usually do, “you’re a grown woman, and nothing ever scares you. It’s an animal. Reach down and pick her up and take her back downstairs.” I tried. I quickly withdrew my hands back toward my lap. I tried again. No go. It might as well have been part of a chicken with bones in it sitting on my plate. I couldn’t touch it.

That’s it, I had had enough.

I picked up my cell and called Hot Toddy. No answer. “Oh, no you don’t, kissing boy, you’re going to answer the phone.” I dialed the land line at his house. My hands and feet were sweating like crazy I was so freaked out. I don’t ever recall my feet sweating like that before. It was gross.

The phone rang several times and Thor finally answered it.

Thor: Hello

AP: Hello, Thor, it’s Aub.

Thor: What are doing?

AP: (Somewhat yelling) Currently, I’m a prisoner in my own fucking bed, Mina is out and I’m trapped!!!

Thor: What?!?! Oh no, if Mina is out, so is Grace.

(Grace is the feistier of the two… an albino and is simply freaky to look at – let alone touch).

AP: Yeah, so sorry about busting up your evening, but you need to get your ass home and get’cher gawd damn animals back downstairs.

Thor: (laughing hard – explains to Todd that the ferrets are out and that I’m trapped in my bedroom afraid of them) Okay, I’ll be right there.

AP: If you’re not here right away, I’m going to kick your ass!

Thor: I’ll be right there, I promise.

I watched Mina crawl around and around my bed like she expected me to pick her up. She’d climb up the side of my bed and look at me with that little raccoon face – all I could do was tell her to go back downstairs (as I’m sure she has deductive reasoning) and leave me alone.

She climbed into my laundry basket of whites and slid around on my clean laundry. She crawled onto the white swivel arm chair I have in my bedroom and liked it so much she turned onto her back and started scratching her backside on it like a dog. I kept yelling at her to get down and swearing at her that if she had poop on her butt, Thor was going to have to buy me a new chair. She wouldn’t stop.

I clapped my hands and she looked right at me and slithered down the chair headed my direction.

Then I heard the door chime. Thor was home. 17 minutes it took Thor to get home. 17 of the longest minutes of my life. He enters my bedroom laughing so hard it honestly looked like he had tears streaming down his face. His hands covering his mouth trying to stifle it.

AP: It’s not funny!

Thor: Where is she?

AP: How the hell should I know?! She went that way.

Thor turned and there she was. As soon as she heard his deep voice, she came running.

Thor: Hi baby. Are you okay? How did you……


Thor and I stood on the deck as I told him the story of horror. He laughed so hard he literally fell to his knees laughing – only after turning his ball cap into a rally cap.

I finally went to bed that night. The extra sleep I thought I was going to get, I didn’t. I was wide awake from the adrenaline rush.

When Auburn Aries woke up the next morning, I told her the story. I expected her to feel my pain – freak out right along with me. Instead I got, “Why didn’t you wake me up, I would have put her back downstairs.”

Figures my kid would have had the ovaries I lacked in this particular situation.

Mina didn’t get out again --- until the next day. I ran home on my way to get Auburn Aries to drop off groceries and there she was. I jumped out of my skin again. I called a friend to see if he was close enough to rescue me. He wasn’t so I had no choice. I hauled my ass to pick up Aries and let her handle it.

Thank God for kids (with ovaries of steel).

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Birds of a Feather and The Shirt of Death

This weekend Hot Toddy and I went to Seattle for the holiday weekend. It was great to get away and leave the house and the responsibilities behind. Auburn Aries is at her Dad’s for the next two weeks and I get to be a grown up and play grown up games…as many and as frequently as possible!

Speaking of which, I tried to hook up with a friend of mine, Young Stud, while I was up there. Things didn’t quite come together the way we had hoped so I had to settle for drunk text messages instead. Hardly a good trade off for the real thing, but funny nonetheless.

We hooked up with a Seattle blogger and his best friend and had a great dinner. We met up at Von’s Grand City Cafe, a place that I recalled had the best Halibut fish and chips ever. It’s a restaurant where I dine every time I’m in Seattle.

As it turns out, they had taken the Halibut off the menu. Dumb plan if you ask me, but then, they didn’t ask me. So I perused the menu looking for something that would prove to be a good substitute. Perusal turned to rifling the menu. Barbeque chicken this, barbeque pork that. Good lord. I’ve eaten the fish there so many times, I hadn’t realized they were a barbeque-your-slab-of-meat kind of place.

I found some spicy jerk chicken crap and ordered that (I really am going somewhere with this story. I promise).

Since Hot Toddy tried to poison Thor four times while learning he’s allergic to soy and mesquite and whatever else there was, he realized that in light of the fact that he could no longer whip up vegetarian dinners he was willing to compromise a little. He was entertaining the idea of eating meat occasionally.

Toddy and I have been close for a couple of years. The fact that he could survive on his diet always surprised me. Man cannot live on Mac-n-Cheese, Smart Dogs and Maker’s Mark alone. I watched him slowly introduce organic white meat into his diet and he’s had more energy than I had seen him with in those two years.

After watching Todd struggle with too many choices on the menu, he finally decided. The four of us engaged in conversation while waiting for dinner to be served.

There placed before me sat a plate with part of a chicken on it. Part of a chicken. A bird with bones in it. I have an intense fear of birds. Any type of bird. Don’t want them anywhere near me. The only way I can get through eating chicken (which is a bigger version of the mite infested rats with wings you ordinarily see), is for it to not have bones in it.

I sat there paralyzed. I’m a grown woman, I reminded myself. I can surely reach down and remove this chicken from the bone. I tried but I couldn’t actually *touch* the chicken. I pulled my hands back toward my lap. I realized there was skin on the chicken which only made it worse.

My parents had a second home on 20 acres in Alpine, California. My Dad had 75 head of cattle, horses, pigs, and yes, chickens. Dreaded were the days my Mother would say, “Come on girls, we’ve got to go kill some chickens.” Dear God, why am I living in this hell was all I could think back then.

Been there, killed that, and have the emotional scars to prove it… I know what that skin looks like after you dip them in boiling water and pluck…never mind. Anyhoo, skin is bad…very bad.

I tried again to create a dinner I could eat and failed once more. Toddy looked up at me and asked what I was doing. I whispered to him that there were bones in my chicken and that I couldn’t eat it. He sweetly offered to strip my chicken from the bone for me. I was relieved.

As my best friend did this selfless act he started laughing. “Isn’t this funny?! The former vegetarian is pulling chicken meat off the bone!” I didn’t realize the sacrifice he made to help me out. Seems small, but because of Todd I was able to eat dinner that night – just as long as I didn’t look at the huge wad of greasy chicken skin precariously perched on the edge of my plate.

Todd’s dinner was, based on what I witnessed, quite good. He, too, participated in a plate o’ chicken parts. As he began eating, his input to the dinner conversation gradually, though rapidly, declined.

We got through two-thirds of dinner when it occurred to Todd he had withdrawn into a world of culinary pleasure. He was completely focused on his dinner. He hadn’t come up for air since it was placed before him. He raised up looking the three of us with a look of surprise.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry I’ve been ignoring you guys. This dinner is so good. I haven’t eaten meat in so long, I want to club a baby seal in the head and eat it.”

I immediately broke into laughter. Not quiet under-my-breath laughter, but laughter the whole bar could hear. What Todd said was SO out of character on SO many levels, I found it hysterical.

I couldn’t quit laughing.

He pointed out how long it had been since he had actually been able to enjoy barbequed meat. I drifted into what it must be like for him to finally be able to eat that again and then he continued...

“I feel like a caveman who’s been thawed out. I don’t care what you guys are talking about.”

Todd remained my source of laughter for the entire weekend. We fed off each other regardless of how juvenile it was.

There was the 7th floor commentary to the people on the street while I was trying to get ready to go out for the evening (this was after many drinks and airline bottles of booze).

To a jay-walker:

“I’m sorry, Sir, SIR, if you could use the crosswalk next time, that would be greatly appreciated.” He said this so loudly I actually expected to hear some yell “Fuck You” as they tried to make eye contact with the voice from above.

To a poor old man on the sidewalk:

“I’m sorry, Sir, SIR, if you’re going to walk that slowly could you please move to the right side of the sidewalk so people can get by.”

And then he had to laugh at himself. “They probably think it’s the voice of God!”

At one drunken point in our hotel room and our Patron Margarita/Bulleit Whiskey bliss, Todd took off his button down shirt and threw it at me. In an attempt to be a quick as possible while under the influence, I tried to kick the shirt back at him. Suddenly he became Abby from Elektra. His shirt (better known as the Shirt of Death) had become his strand of Indonesian beads that could kill.

And I was Elektra fighting off the evils of the Shirt of Death.

He’d spin the shirt up and hurl it at me. I’d kick it back. Over and over he’d try to kill me with the Shirt of Death while we kept making bad martial art screams. I felt sorry for the people in the room next to us, we laughed so hard.

Finally he approached me, I tried to get away. The Indonesian Shirt of Death was wound tighter than Dick’s hatband – I was going down and I knew it.

I tried to fight Toddy off but before I escape he had the Shirt of Death wrapped tightly around me. In one motion he whipped me around and hurled my ass to the bed, victorious.

All I could do was lie there in my sundress laughing.

I hope he doesn't think he can always win if he tries to kick my ass..