Author: grigiogirl

One of the great places I got to visit in Chicago was the Art Institute. While in the Van Gogh section I literally LOLed (and was very close to. ROFLing – had it not been so crowded) because I was reminded of something YummYummy said in Toronto. We were checking out the goodies in the hotel room and noticed the snooze kit contained one eye mask and one, not two, earplug. YummYummy was quick with an explanation, “They must have thought Van Gogh was staying in this room.”

After several hours in the museum and tooling around the city, I met up with She’s A Hard One and Her Man. We were all rather hungry and trying to decide on a restaurant. “We could do something specific to Chicago. Maybe pizza,” said She’s A Hard One. “We could do French,” Her Man suggested. “Of course, that’s not Chicagoan – that’s just French.”

We ended up picking Korean BBQ and they suggested we change into Korean BBQ clothes. “It is really smelly,” said She’s A Hard One. “Ah,” I replied, “one of those smells that is only good when you’re in the moment.” She’s A Hard One and I quickly changed and then waited for Her Man. “He takes longer to get ready than I do,” She’s A Hard One whispered to me.

The restaurant was not in walking or easy train distance, so we decided to take a zipcar (hourly inner city car rental). Her Man was at the wheel, She’s A Hard One was in charge of navigation and I just sat back and enjoyed the ride. As we were nearing our destination we got stuck behind a very slow driver – this was extremely frustrating to Her Man, “Obviously they’re not paying for their car by the hour.”

Once we got inside the restaurant we ravenously ate our food – barely waiting for She’s A Hard One to finish cooking the meat. One of the side items, which we quite liked, was jicama. We waited some time for the waitress to return and then ordered another dish of it. She returned with cucumber and took off before we could tell her that was not what we had requested. A while later – good thing we weren’t paying her by the hour – we again requested jicama. After a lengthy exchange of verbal and visual communication she said, “Ah, you want white colored radish. You should just say.” Very Chicagoan.

Lately all of my adventures begin in the middle of the night and require a pit stop in New York.

As has become the routine, I take my window seat and prepare to sleep a wee bit. A young blonde in a track suit is sat next to me and, next to her, a man in his 60s with a camera. As he starts chatting it up with her and showing her pictures I close my eyes and ears in an attempt to sleep.

Throughout the flight I would wake to find they were still chatting and viewing pictures. At one point, they were discussing how it actually felt like a Friday night. “I’m retired, so every night is Friday night,” he told her. “I’m a writer, so every night is Friday night,” she replied. Hmmmm. I’d like to be retired and a do a lot of posting (aka ‘writing’ on facebook). As The Leaver would ask, “What does it mean?”

We arrived in New York and, as everyone was getting ready to deplane, track suit told the man, “Now you can go home and tell your family you spent the night with a young, hot blonde.” He responded with the look we all have when we realize we spent the night with the wrong person – like your cousin. Don’t judge, keep reading.

Joining me on the flight to Chicago was the St. John’s soccer team. As they were taking their seats one of the players was telling his mates about an exchange he had with another mate. “I was like, ‘hey dude -what’s up’, I went all Spumoni on him.” Spumoni, Spicoli. What’s the difference?

As the flight progressed, Spumoni started talking about his cousin. “She is so hot. I can’t wait to see her,” he gave a good Spicoli laugh and then finished it off with, “Anything goes in the South.” Cousin, girlfriend, girl in the track suit. What’s the difference?

Alice and I are always looking to learn new things and, as of late, language has been our passion. We decided to look into learning French at the local high school, however opted out when we learned the instructor is Chinese. Je ne comprends pas. We realize we could be making a mistake, assuming a Chinese person cannot teach us French, when- in fact- this may be the best way to learn. Let’s not forget we took Italian from an Italian and learned nothing other ‘hoha hola’ and ‘vaffanculo’.

I was speaking (conversational English) with Alice and suggested we learn the Official 10-Code with, of course, the assistance of Google. Alice agreed and then advised me my neighbors had stopped by her house because they’re interested in having chickens and a chicken coop — in my yard. “Are they 10-96?” I asked. “I’m kidding. I don’t care if they do that. I just don’t want rats.”

“You know,” said Alice, “Hot Mustard just sits out on the porch with a BB gun and waits for rats. Those were good times, when we shot rats.” Those were good times – shooting rats. ‘Learning’ Italian – 10-74.

With tonight being the season two premiere of Glee, Dr. BJ and MiniMe could hardly contain themselves. In addition to it being Glee night, it was  -aoke night, which meant I needed to come up with a theme for the evening. In honor of the ever popular, high school based, musical comedy (Glee), I decided we would do Prom-aoke and start the night off at my house – watching Glee and eating pizza.

As is often the case, Sleepless and I are usually the people in the group to respect the theme concept. I had stopped by a second-hand store and purchased us some fine prom gowns for the event. Sleepless was thrilled to don her gown and so was I – primarily because mine was a store sample and had “SAMPLE” stamped across the ass. “Is that verb form?” asked Sleepless, referring to ‘sample’. “It may be,” I told her, “it just depends how the night goes.”

We arrived at our bar to find we must have had a credit from the last time we went and paid for the private party because we were, again, the only patrons in the bar.  D-Dog arrived shortly after and, as promised, we had a bag full of prom dresses for her. She was in heaven and alternated between two black gowns throughout the evening.

The Leaver and QuQueen had been there about 30 minutes when The Leaver noticed the karaoke stage was empty. “Why aren’t we singing? I have to get a cavity filled in the morning.” OregganO looked my way and quipped, “Says the girl with the cream cheese cake in her mouth.” “The Leaver is right,” said Sleepless, “Someone should be singing.” Right Glove looked at me and asked, “Aren’t you going to sing?” “Yes, yes, of course I am. I am always one song away from the mic.”

The bartender, Norm, took the stage and, in typical Sleepless fashion, Sleepless provided him a private dance on a chair positioned in his direct line of sight, in the middle of the dance floor. QuQueen had given Sleepless, D-Dog and I updos, which 1) made us look fantastic and 2) cooled us down. QuQueen had placed a beautiful flower in Sleepless’ hair for an accent and, somewhere between “Once Bitten Twice Shy” and “Paradise City,” the flower went missing.

We looked around for a minute and then continued on with the dancing and singing. OregganO and I got up to sing “Knock Three Times” and Sleepless used this fine song to teach D-Dog how to chair dance. At one point they were facing us and Sleepless showed her one of her finer moves – at which time OregganO and I got to see “the money shot.” “I can tell you why you can’t find your flower Sleepless,” OregganO said into the mic during an instrumental break, “with moves like that, you’ve most likely been deflowered!” About 30 minutes later, Sleepless found her flower exactly where she left it – in her hair.

Due to my recent dates with JB, Dr. BJ has had the house to himself lately.  He enjoys his time here, listening to French music, sitting on the stoop, sipping wine and sharing the house with my ghost.

I’ve lived here for several years and there have been times I’ve noticed what some may describe as paranormal activity, but once I review all of the photos the next morning, I have a better understanding of why and when certain events took place.

My house is old, not B.C. old., but old still. As a result, it makes a lot of noises. On Sunday morning, Dr. BJ was sleeping in his room when he heard footsteps upstairs. He jumped out of bed and ran upstairs to find that he had jumped out of bed and ran upstairs for no reason at all – no one was there. He was telling me about this later in the day and we decided perhaps we have, yet, another houseguest. The hostess with the mostess should always have a ghostess.

I told Dr. BJ we did, in fact, have a ghost (evidenced by all of the orbs in the aforementioned photos) and her name is Agnes. “Agnes? How do you know she’s a girl?” “He’s got a point there. I guess I figure this because I haven’t noticed a lot of things one might experience with a male ghost – cabinets and drawers left open, toilet seat left up, the basics.

This morning was difficult as it was the last day with YummYummy.  Luckily, she, Sleepless and I are all going on a date with JB in two weeks, so it won’t be long before I see her again. Also lucky is the fact that I got to go straight to the Demolition Derby as soon as JB and I parted.

Dr. BJ picked me up and we met up with Sleepless and others, who had the privilege of being there about an hour longer than us. Upon arriving, Passed The Sniff Test provided a disclaimer (which had apparently been provided to him by Tile), “Just so you know, there are more people here than teeth.” He was right about that. Poligrip should have been holding auditions.

At one point in the evening, one of the Fair staff was throwing t-shirts, out of a medium-sized cardboard box, out to the attendees in the stand. By the time he hit our section, he had run out. The majority of the attendees in our section were not happy with this news and beckoned him to come back and throw the cardboard box into the stands. Surprisingly, he did and, not surprisingly, people were scrambling for it.  “Nice,” said Passed The Sniff Test, “Someone just won a new house.”

A little while later, a few women hit the dirt floor arena to place the barrier cones for the next event. The individual behind us had some feelings about that, “I would never let my wife have that cone job. She’d end up chasing me with it.” Just shortly after that, Dr. BJ heard them (the Rednecks behind us)  say something about one of the Demolition Derby drivers that will remain engrained in his mind for some time, “That’s straight up redneck!” He looked at me, eyes and ears not believing what he was hearing, “Ummm, really!?!? Wow.”

The Demolition Derby, in conjunction with the Fair attendees, are definitely a draw and Dr. BJ and I committed to returning next year – at which time, we plan to drive in the Demolition Derby. That’s right, we’re going to buy a car and start working on it just as soon as we can figure out what to do with those pipe things and the other stuff we could see in the engines. Next year, we will be straight up redneck!

YummYummy and I always have very special conversations. Yesterday, while discussing our many life experiences, I mentioned I wanted to learn a little bit of French. At the end of our discussion we had come to two conclusions: 1) no need to learn French if you know how to ‘moan’ in French, and 2) having a ‘reputation’ in France is not a bad thing (the latter is something Sleepless and I have also discussed).

This conversation segwayed into a conversation about awkward moments. I made the decision to be more upfront with people about this common consequence and set a goal to try it out at the club.

Can’t Be Bothered was the first of us to ‘eye’ a boy of interest. She was afraid to try chatting it up with him, so, as any good friend would do, I opted to do so for her. I approached him and posed the question, “How do you feel about awkward moments?” “I don’t like them.” “Hmmm, so does that mean you wouldn’t be into hooking up with my friend;” sly head gesture toward Can’t Be Bothered, “and then having awkward moments with her every time you see her after that?” “No, thank you,” he kindly declined, “I have a girlfriend.” “A girlfriend?” I rhetorically replied. “Good response then. That would make for a super awkward moment and we’re not into that.” I returned to YummYummy and Can’t Be Bothered and they asked how it went, “It was awkward.” Score: one for one.

Once YummYummy and I returned to her house we decided naps were in order. I assumed she had gone up to bed so I put a few things away and headed to the main floor making room room. I opened the door to find YummYummy on the loo, “I’m having a poo.” “Oops, sorry.” Awkward. Score: two for two.

Later on YummYummy and I decided to go out for dinner. As we were enjoying our meal we made plans for the rest of the evening. “I’m just looking forward to going home and having an awkward moment with you so we can have even more awkward moments later.” “Me too,” I told YummYummy. Score: three for three. Awkward, eh.

I arrived in Toronto, via Buffalo, to a fabulous greeting from the ramp agent, “Welcome to Buffalo. We’re glad you’re here. Its going to be a glorious day.”

YummYummy picked me up and we immediately made our way towards Canada. I told her I looked forward to drinking wine with her on her stoop, just like she was doing the other night when she was texting me. “Did I say that? Hmmm. I only tell the truth when its convenient and I only steal when no one’s looking. Remember?!? Write that shit down.”

After drinking on both the back and front stoop and holding a Trailer Park Boys “fashion” photo shoot, we headed to Toronto for a night on the town. YummYummy had reserved a “Crash Pad” at The Drake Hotel so we could walk up to our room after a night of mayhem in the bar- this was a very, very good idea.

Can’t Be Bothered joined us for the mayhem and we started the night the same way we finished it, with a bottle of champagne. We had been at the club for about an hour when YummYummy announced, “If I’m going to have ‘the moment’ with the guy that wants ‘the moment’, he needs to look up so we can have the actual moment.” Right soon after that a male patron approached us, “Hey ladies, I can’t buy you drinks, but I can hang out with you all night.” We’re so lucky.

As the night progressed, and once we stole our way (no one was watching) into the VIP section, YummYummy asked, “Where’s the guy who is supposed to gyrate on my leg?” I guess she gave up on ‘the moment’ idea. We looked around for I Can’t Buy You Drinks, but he wasn’t around.

After spending as many hours as we possibly could contributing to the “economy” and the other patrons’ evening, we decide to call it a day (or two because it was just before four AM). We were really looking forward to eating leftovers once we got up to the room. “I’m so hungry,” said YummYummy. “I’m going to eat that pizza like an Ethiopian.” Glorious day indeed.

Dr. BJ woke me this morning as he was headed off to work, “Good morning. I’m heading out and I’m taking the bus. Aren’t you proud of me?” I told him I was and asked that he send me a text so I knew he arrived safely. About 30 minutes later he sent a text saying he was safe and sound. I replied, “Good to hear. Me too, in bed.”

I finally got up, worked for a few hours and spent the rest of the day getting ready for my second date. Which basically means I ate Pirate’s Booty while watching Trailer Park Boys. I was just finishing watching the movie when I received a text from Dr. BJ. “I’m working on my notes- in bed. I just went to the bathroom- in bed. I’m having meetings- in bed. Love this game! Hope you enjoyed your day in bed.” I replied, “Just watered my yard-in bed. Watched Trailer Park Boys-in bed. Checked the weather-in bed.”

Before I knew it Dr. BJ was home from work and we were sipping mojitos on the stoop. OregganO and Sleepless stopped by to join in the date preparation activities. We ventured to my bedroom to begin packing. I packed while OregganO and Sleepless provided commentary-in bed. I bent over to grab something and they noticed I was wearing knickers. “You’re wearing panties!?!?” Sleepless shouted, “Why? You never do that.” Even OregganO appeared to want the answer so there was no getting out of a response. “The thing is, I watched Trailer Park Boys today and the TP girls’ thongs were about two inches above their skirts – which just seemed right. I’m going to Canada and I want to dress like the Canadians do. Besides, its a second date with JB and I’m not packing extra pants.”

We then finished our drinks and I went downstairs to say goodbye to Dr. BJ. He was on his computer-in bed.