Saturday, July 30, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
- "Here. This fell out of your jacket pocket." (aka: This is your problem)
- "Put it in your jeans pocket so it doesn't fall out again." (aka: This is how to fix your problem)
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
We met for happy hour margaritas at a little joint between where we each live. So margaritas for breakfast it was!! Probably never a good sign, but as it's balls hot around these parts eating had not been appealing earlier in the day. And honestly, what makes for a better first impression than a easily tipsy girl and a cheap date?
I arrived about two minutes before he did and only then did it dawn on me that I ought to be nervous about the first date I was having in more than a year. But by that point the bartender was bringing me a margarita so large that you practically have to take your head to the glass instead of bringing the glass to your mouth, so my attention was diverted in the nicest frozen strawberry boozy way before nerves had a chance to set in.
Happily, I can report that I had a grand time. He offered all of the things good dates are made of, mainly good conversation. Oh, and good looks and a lovely closely shorn head that practically dared me to touch it from the moment he sat down. And if you think for one second that eventually I didn't touch that dome, then I must ask you this question:
Q: Do you not know me at allllllll?!?
A: Of course I touched that damn head. Several times, in fact.
Which may seem like a dating offense of the highest nature, however, in my defense, I mentioned that I was resisting the urge to touch it, at which point he leaned down to give me easy access to it. So kindly put your foul flag/red card back in your pocket. (FYI, I literally just stuck my tongue out at you, well, the glowing screen at least.)
Looking back, I made several
Klllllassy, no? Technically, I don't think it's a town o' pinheads, but that was always the rumor when I was a kid.
In a make right attempt I did let him play with my yo-yo. (Which now that I type those words, is probably something he's jotting down in his con collum right the hell now.)
Also, I may have taken an exit off of Good Dating Rd. when once he told me about his job, which while not directly involved with heavy machinery, does have a relationship with those who do, asked if he had enough juice to let me operate sumthin' cool and groovy. I felt a lil' flutter in my heart when he mentioned operating an enormous dump truck thingy. I only want to operate everything large! (Still on my to-do list are semi, train and helicopter. And this would put me closer to the semi. I'm getting chicken skin just thinkin' about it.)
I donno what'll happen next. I no longer have a Magic 8 Ball, and I'm the kinda dolt who literally needs a guy to hit me over the head before I know if they're interested and I'm the only one who did any head touchin', so who knows?
But at least I'm back out there. For better or worse.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Several minutes later my phone rings. The screen says it's Beannie, so I answer not with the conventionally accepted and appropriate "hello" but with a more
Like a pizza, I was there in :30 minutes or less. As I rounded the house heading towards the laughter emanating from the deck I realized the laughter was at my headlight. Prompting yet another very BBG version of "hello" sounding a lot like, "yeah, I see you laughin' at my headlight, but I also see myself not fallin' the fuck down in the damn dark; so suck it peeeople". (I've said it many times, I don't know why people speak to me at all... I'm just thankful that they do.)
Beannie and I have known each other since the late 90's or so, when we became co-workers. Her hubby E is someone I've only known since they got together, however in a fun case of small worldness, I had known about him from another friend, Brad Gray, waaay back in my radio daze (well before I ever met Beannie), as they all graduated from H.S. together.
Dear Small Worldness,
I love you. I think you are one of the greatest things in life. Keep up the good work.
As I sat and cracked open my super classy and patriotic PBR tallboy (thanks store for only having tallboys) I took note of the chiminea across the table from me on the deck. It seemed to be licking flames outta places I thought it shouldn't. In fairness, any flame larger than that generated by a BIC lighter is more fire than I'm comfortable with*. So uncomfortable that it made me say a little internal prayer. ...Hello God, it's me BBG, pleeeease, for the love of you do not make me have to call the fire department up in here. (Clearly, on some level I think God is a fan of Judy Blume and the DMX joint, Up In Here.)
For the next several hours I enjoyed my visit, the environment and the conversation, which ranged from politics to abortion to religion among other more banal and random kooky topics. It was quite nice to have rational discussions about topics that can be lighting rods. Refreshing is an understatement. And no, not all at the table held the same beliefs as each other necessarily, but without the 'I'm takin' my ball and goin' home' bullshit that too damn many of our elected officials are operating under, it was riveting and stimulating. A kind reminder that not everyone is an asshole.
Beannie reminded me why it's good to have friends with good memories. She regaled me with stories such as the time I got a concussion
As the night continued, I watched as E poked at the fire (while I thought to myself, ...'man, guys really like fire. But as long as they're not wetting their bed and harming small animals, I guess that's ok...) And then BOOM!! In slow motion I watched a mini meteor explosion happen sending flaming balls and embers straight the hell outta the chiminea and directly onto Beannie's new rug.
This was the moment I thought we were gonna have to dial 911 to invite the people who I've been trying to
Eventually, it was 4am, so since I didn't have kids who would be up in 2 hours, I decided it was time to return to BBG HQ.
- Ruckus: Check.
- Near death experience: Check.
- Keeping the fire department at bay: Wicked awesome chhhhheck.
- Rockin' it like I'm 22: Check (Making my status update today; My body clock is off by 20 years. Does anyone know how to reset this thing?)
- Oh, and food porn: Check.
Of course, in the blink of an eye a wee mini fireball fell into the lap of Mom's BBG worn nighty, rapidly melting and morphing into a super hole-y problem for a girl "too ill to go to school". I was in a state of shock and awe. Honestly, I don't even remember what my kid solution to the problem was. Disposed of the evidence with Jimmy Hoffa like efficiency? I donno. But I do know that I never played with fire again and that to this day, I'm on high alert for anything/situation that could cause a fire.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Jorge Estrada, a former co-worker and his lovely wife, (code name) Lupe have three very cute wee one's, including the most recent addition to their 2 girls, a brand new boy about a month ago. Between the horse riding and dance lessons and neighborhood kids Jorge has his finger on the pulse of the under 7 set. As we ate our sandwiches, caught up and stiffled our laughter over this really weirdly built guy searching for a table (I still don't know how those wickedly disproportionate spindly legs held him upright), I don't even remember what the topic of conversation was, but I heard the most delightful sounding, unfamiliar string of words pop outta his mouth.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
I never, ever, EVER follow the directions when someone posts a Facebook status update that contains words like "copy and paste to have a unicorn delivered to each under educated child in the world " and "post for just one hour and so we can finally eradicate flying monkeys and hang nails" or "97% of people want this horrible killing thing or that debilitating disease to flourish, show your friends how much more righteous you are than them".
I'm just not that girl. If you've spent more than 3 minutes in 'da World, you've probably already concluded that I'm not exactly the type who really just looooooves to be told what to do.
I honestly do not think that people who do these posts are doing anything other than letting their peeps know which causes are important to them and last time I checked, this was America, baby. A little spot on the map where people are free to post anydamnthing they want to on their status update. So
rock post on people!
Like I said, it's just not me. I do what I wanna do not what letters on my computer screen tell me to do, nor what some Stephen Hawking voiced GPS tells me to do. But that's a subject for another day.
...But when I saw this on a college mate's status, well, it's making me reassess my position:
"I loved you the minute I heard you were coming. I loved you the minute you were born. Then I saw your face and fell in love some more. You were only a minute old, but I knew I would die for you and to this day I still would. When you choose to have a child you make a conscious decision to allow your heart to walk around outside of your body. Put this on your status if you have children you love more than life."
Status update, you had me at "I loved you the minute I heard you were coming!!"
In fact, I still don't know what disease you're trying to cure.
(Haaaaappy Birthday to one of my favorite people, Biggies Smalls. No. Not that Biggie Smalls.)