Golden Girls Gone Wild!

 

Things got a bit crazy at the Casa y Casita, thus, I missed an entire day of blogging.

 

While at dinner, we had planned a day trip to Sedona. Based on the time it took to drive there and our desire to be home by dinner, MyFace set a 9 AM departure time.

 

MyFace, Q and I were staying in the casa while Sleepless and Oreggano stayed in the casita. Just as I was getting ready for bed, I received a text from the casita sasistas telling me they needed to talk to me. I walked over to find them in their little twin beds watching infomercials. “We don’t want to go to Sedona. You need to tell MyFace,” Oreggano told me. Sleepless sat up in her bed, nodding.

 

Eight hours later, fast asleep in my bed, I received another text. “What are you doing? Did you talk to Q? We will hide out in our skinny beds until we hear otherwise.” Q was still sleeping, so I went into MyFace’s room and toldĀ  her they didn’t want to go. “Why wouldn’t they just tell me? That’s it, we’re messing with them,” she replied. We then entered the closet, which shares a wall with the casita, and had a quick conversation about how they we were going to Sedona and they needed to be ready by 9. As we did this, I could hear them quiet down, so I know their ears were pressed against the wall. This wasn’t, however, enough for MyFace, so she walked over to the casita, knocked, didn’t wait for a ‘come in,’ and told them they wouldn’t be invited back if they didn’t start communicating directly. “OK,” they both sullenly replied.

 

They eventually dared to come to the casa for breakfast. “Uh huh,” MyFace said. “Now you’re ready to get out of bed.” “We were just trying to be team players andĀ  make you proud and happy,” Sleepless told MyFace. “No wonder you’re a lawyer,” MyFace replied.

As we were sitting around the table eating breakfast, Sleepless shared some information with me and – since everyone else was within earshot – the others. “Oh, so I had a dream that we had sex last night.” Usually Sleepless spells ‘sex’ when she says it – she didn’t do that this time, not so sure what that means. “Hmmm. Was it good?” “Oh, yes. I wondered if I made any noise,” she answered. “I had no idea that was going on in the skinny bed next to me,” Oreggano interjected and added, “And, no, you didn’t make any noise.” “Sorry. It’s my fault you had the dream,” I told her. “Parading around in all of my hotness yesterday at the pool. I’m surprised all of you didn’t have a sex dream about me.”

 

As the day went on, I was able to use my dream status to get away with things, “Well, in the dream you thought I deserved it,” or “In the dream you would do anything for me.” This brought us to the topic of lesbians. “I just don’t understand the hair,” MyFace told us. “I know a lot of lesbians and most of them do not have good hair. I just want to take them and get there hair done.” “Very nice, a little philanthropy project. Maybe I’m a lesbian, my hair is doing its own thing today,” I told her. “You’ve got way too good of hair to go there,” she replied. I plan to encourage her to move forward with her charitable work, I think she should call it Unspike the Dyke.

 

With most of our time spent poolside, I was able to do a lot of observing of nature – all of it. Sleepless had also been observing things – animal noises. “They should really make a Shazam app for animal noises. I hear a lot of noises when I’m running and I wonder what they are. Plus, at the store last night, there were a lot of noises coming out of that bush.” A Shazanimal app would be nice. Perhaps it could also identify animals if you take a picture of it. MyFace, while pruning the poolside roses informed us there were bits and pieces of rodents on the ground near the bushes. I took my camera and binoculars over to assess the situation. It is amazing how much a half dozen old moldy flowers look like tails.

 

Q was working on her tan via MyFace’s 4-8-10 method (SPF 4 – ten minutes in the sun, then SPF 8 – ten minutes in the sun) when I noticed a mole on the back of her leg. I was asking her about the mole – was it new, how long had she had it, if doctors had concerns, and – most importantly – did hair ever grow out of it. “No, I don’t have a hairy mole,” she patiently and politely replied. “That reminds me,” Oreggano piped in, “I’m supposed to be in the weekly news this week.” None of us are sure of the correlation, but I have a feeling it may be something like page three of The Sun.

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