Author: grigiogirl

Spent the other night in the company of many fabulous women. We had decided it was time for a girls night out and the best place to commence was at one of our favorite local sushi restaurants. I sent a text to The Leaver inviting her and QuQueen. She replied, “What is this all about?” I replied, “It’s all about spending time with the people who make you laugh, oh, and the hokey pokey.”

Sleepless and I were the first to arrive and were quickly joined by The Leaver and QuQueen. Within minutes the entire group of nine was there and we started placing orders and taking pictures. One of the other girls had ordered sake and offered to share with The Leaver until the food arrived. The Leaver graciously accepted the offer and, within minutes, reported, “Wow! Is it hot in here or is it just me?” We told her it was probably the sake – which she didn’t realize was alcohol (she doesn’t drink very often) – and she was shocked. I asked why she drank it and she replied, “She didn’t have anyone to drink it with her, I didn’t want her to drink alone.” Always thinking of others.

Tile was enjoying some of the edamame when she realized she had been enjoying the discarded edamame pods. Not sure how she figured it out so quickly. Could have been a combination of factors:  no soybeans coming out, no salt, she was discarding them from the same pile she had picked them up from. Who knows. Empty or full, she enjoyed them.

We decided to take pictures and The Leaver opted to turn her back to the camera, “I don’t need my picture out there, I’m already all over the web, but don’t Google me, just let me have my privacy.” So much like MyFace. We all razzed her a bit and, in Leaver fashion, she threatened to leave and then stayed the entire night.

Upon arriving at the karaoke bar we were pleased to find very few patrons because those odds increase our mic time. Scot-Tea and BeauD joined us for a songs, as did OregganO. Not surprisingly, OregganO and I were the last to leave. We had songs in the queue and had started doing “research” for future nights out. Inspired by one of the other patrons, we decided theme nights are in order. Next Tuesday, we’re doing cowboy night. Cowboyoke.

Several days ago I decided to try and sell my car. This is not really a recent decision, it is has been on the market for a while. Unfortunately, the only time I get calls on the car is when Tree drives it.  When people call the number posted on the car it is my belief that were expecting a man, Tree, to answer the phone and I can hear the anticipation drop like a missile. It is clear my ride is not what they are truly interested in experiencing. As a result, I decided to mix things up a bit and scraped my Obama sticker off the rear window and raised the price $1,000. So far no bites, but I’m hopeful – like an Obama condom.

For marketing purposes, I drove my car to the West side yesterday and left it in a “high-traffic” parking lot (in hopes of generating sales) while I headed to visit Q with MyFace. After our meal, Q offered to have me hold her wee one. Within about fifteen minutes of holding her I realized she had peed on me. “Looks like she peed on me,” I said. “Are you sure?” said Q. “Well, I know I didn’t just pee on myself, so, yes.” This incident reminded me of the other day when I was scraping off my Obama sticker and my neighbor, let’s call him Billy, came over and starting making small talk with me. He is an interesting character, probably in his 50s, who is very impressed with himself, regardless of how uncouth he may be. I chatted with him for a bit, but needed to complete the business at hand, so I wasn’t too focused on him; until Billy backed up a bit and I noticed he had a large piss mark on the front of his shorts. How does one not notice this? Especially the owner. Everyone knows the rule, you smelt it, you dealt it. You pissed your pants, you pissed your pants. Too bad he’s not as cool as the real Billy (Madison, that is). If he was, he would have looked down and quipped, “Of course I peed my pants, everyone my age pees their pants. It’s the coolest.”

This weekend was full of gayness -all kinds. In Amsterdam, my friends were celebrating Fruitcake Gay Pride at COC and here, in my little city, we were celebrating Gay Day at a local amusement park. Pre-park we decided to grab brunch with Tree, Screamer and some of their friends. Upon arriving two things happened: 1) the hostess asked Sleepless and I if we just ran a marathon because we were “dressed the same,” 2) Tree saw us and immediately said, “You are the gayest thing I’ve seen all day!” Always good to know I’ve dressed for the occasion. While eating, Tree apologized for arriving late, “Sorry I was late, I was listening to Stevie Nicks, Foreigner and Denise Williams.” Fair enough. One can’t get upset with another when they’ve got good taste in music. As we finished brunch the server was making her way around the table to find out who was sharing a check and who was splitting. I wasn’t paying attention and responded, “Split.” Sleepless gave me a surprised look, because we usually share the check equally. The server was walking away so I shouted her way, “We’re together.” Outed at the pub on Gay Day.

Sleepless and I rode with Tree and Screamer to the park. “I’m so excited,” said Screamer, “I just love amusement parks. I’m just so excited – I could scream!” As soon as we arrived we were mapping out our ride plan. Tree announced he wanted to go to the bathroom and on the new roller coaster. Sleepless replied, “Well, you’re going to have to make a choice because they are both rides….in a way.” Definitely going to have to pay more attention to Sleepless next time she is in the making room room. We rode a few of the rides, heeding Screamer’s advice, “Just close your eyes, put your hands in the air, and scream.” This advice reminded Sleepless and I of a few days ago when we were listening to a band play while at lunch. My hands were full (ribs and the like) and the band had just finished a song so, instead of clapping, I screamed. Sleepless liked this approach however asked why I didn’t just clap. I replied, “When your hands are full and your mouth is not, scream.”

Speaking of a handful, Oh Heyyyyy! arrived within an hour or so of us being there to join in the festivities. Oh Heyyyyy! was wearing the hell out of some very short corduroy shorts and was worried it might result in an ‘appearance’. Sleepless and Screamer were both good to let Oh Heyyyyy! know of any possible cameos. Throughout the day Oh Heyyyyy! received several phone calls and the majority of the calls went something like this, “Oh Heyyyyy! Yeah, I’m at an amusement park. Mmmm hmmm. Gay day. Yes, yes, you know it. Oh, yes, I need a drink. Some Grey Goose for sure. Uh huh. OK honey, you know I’ll see you soon. Bye.” Oh Heyyyyy! was definitely fun to have around – for us and everyone in close, or not so close, proximity.

As we were waiting in one of the longer lines Sleepless and I were singing various songs at various pitches and keys. Tree looked horrified, Screamer was looking on at the ride and Oh Heyyyyy! had pity on us, “Oh that is very nice. You are both gay and talented.” Sleepless laughed and whispered in my ear, “Both not true.” Oh Heyyyyy! was kind again, “No, really, you’re gay, like happy, and talented.” Ah, so sweet. I wish every day was Gay Day, everywhere!

Saw a sketch the other day that reminded me of Tree and I tooling around Farmer’s Market, so I suggested he don a bandana around his neck and a pair of short shorts – nothing else – and I would don a short blonde wig and fitted t-shirt and we could head down to the market. We ended up doing only the latter and had the privilege of having Disco Dancing Dog Groomer in our mix.

Skiwi phoned us while we were out and asked my birth month and year – he had stumbled upon a stack of vintage Playboy magazines at a yard sale and was hoping to surprise Disco Dancing Dog Groomer and I with magazines respective of our birth. Unfortunately, they did not have those particular magazines. Skiwi was very disappointed because he felt a gift such as this is not only thoughtful, it is blogworthy. There you go Skiwi. See, it is the thought that counts.

As Disco Dancing Dog Groomer and I were approaching her driveway we found Skiwi, sans shirt, washing the car. Upon seeing us he put his shirt on and said, “Wouldn’t want the both of you to see my beefcake.” A few minutes later I advised him his zip was down. “See what I mean?” he said. “Beefcake.”

We decided to attend an arts festival at a local resort town where we knew MyFace was volunteering (at the beer tent, of course). Sleepless, Disco Dancing Dog Groomer and I all donned lovely summer dresses – Skiwi was pleased with this fashion decision. Skiwi was contemplating, out loud, where we should park. “We could do have a drink at the lodge and take advantage of the free valet. No, the main street is closed. We could ride the bus. No, we’re not bus people. I would never have you ladies ride the bus, not in those dresses – even if it is a posh bus.” After frequenting the many vendors we enjoyed a lovely meal in celebration of Skiwi and Disco Dancing Dog Groomer’s anniversary – turns out, they met at this arts festival fifteen years ago. We were invited to attend a gallery open house where the artist was going to finish his airbrush painting of an almost nude model. “See,” said Skiwi. “Its the dresses.” As the model was assuming her position her sheet gave. Money shot. As YummYummy likes to say, “Gash is cash.” Skiwi was a bit surprised by this occurrence and when we asked him about it he said, “I couldn’t look. I get blushy.”

After the cash shot we headed to MyFace and Handsome Cowboy’s place for a little Tuaca. This is our new evening sipper beverage. Handsome Cowboy had the whole place ready for us – candles lit, lights dimmed, high ball glasses out. It had been a bit of a day for everyone but Sleepless and I so they decided to call it a night and Sleepless and I headed to my place for karaoke and Just Dance with Add-ly and Johnny Utah. Johnny Utah was pleased with the Philippines’ version of karaoke and everybody loved Just Dance. After enjoying delicious freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, we sang and danced until it was a brand new day. Skiwi was right, it was the dresses – promising goodness all day and into the night!

That’s Not Chinese was in the mood for stoop time and, with it being summer and a bit rainy, we decided mojitos would be the best beverage. We pulled up our favorite chairs, propped up our feet on the cooler and relaxed. Luckily, That’s Not Chinese did not pee in my yard this time. Not sure what stopped her, maybe it was the cacti I planted in her “spot”.

Sleepless eventually made her way to the stoop and enjoyed a cool summer beverage before we headed out. Our first stop was a barbeque with Tile, Very Interested and several other peeps. We were all in the backyard enjoying the thunder and lightning when Sleepless stated she was going in to avoid being hit by lightning. Right soon after she made this decision it started raining. Very Interested stated, “Well I’m going in too. I’m sugar. I melt in the rain.”

The rain let up and we made our way to another barbeque at the home of The Leaver and QuQueen. We missed dinner, however, arrived just in time for dessert. As we were eating ROFL’s birthday cheesecake QuQueen asked if I had heard The Leaver’s story about the cow attack. The Leaver overheard the question and started telling the story in true story telling fashion – animation, actions and all. Apparently they had been lazing around the river on rafts when a cow started staring down The Leaver and turned to charge into the water. The expressions on The Leaver’s face and the exchanges between she and QuQueen were so funny we were all near tears we were laughing so hard. The Leaver was not amused, “I could have died!” She decided to prove this comment and quickly Googled how many people die from cow attacks. “One in 123. Ha! There are more cow attacks than shark attacks.” ROFL responded, “That is an utterly amazing story but I think you may be milking it just a bit.”

I did some research when I got home and, based on what I found, cows may attack every now and again but the majority of the attacks occur when the cows are angry and the people are in the United Kingdom. Puts a whole new twist on mad cow.

Sleepless and I had to do some work this afternoon and some work turned into an evening of activities. After begging for as many donations as we could possibly beg for, we headed south to our favorite more than a “c” in the box restaurant for chocolate beet cake.

 

Late Bloomer was excited to see us and started telling us about his day. Turns out he was a llama at a local outdoor retailer convention and a good llama at that. His name was Dolly Llama and, when appropriate – or inappropriate depending on who is judging – he spent a good amount of his hours groping girls. He assured us they liked it.

 

I was heading to the making room room when I realized I recognized someone in the restaurant – my neighbor. Sure wish he had a name. His girlfriend did have a name (provided to me by him), so in the making room room I addressed her, stall to stall, and introduced myself. Very moving experience.

 

When I returned to Sleepless, Late Bloomer was chatting it up with her about age. “Can I find out your age with my finger?” he asked. Wow. That’s really moving it quick. Not sure of the response Sleepless provided, but the next thing I heard out of Late Bloomer’s mouth was, “Are we ever going to take a walk in the park?” Such a romantic. Finger. Park. Wow.

 

We ordered our cake and were told they were out. Frozen Soup quickly made sure we were taken care of which meant chocolate beet cake (hidden stash) with pistachio and cherry chocolate gelato. Thank you Frozen Soup – we definitely appreciate your efforts.

 

After finishing dessert, Sleepless and I finished our task of gathering donations by making our way to the Big Kenny concert. We managed to catch the last of the concert, free of charge, and gathered a few free autographed CDs. As we were making our way to the post office lights and sirens trumped us on the streets. It was then we realized, unless it’s an eye shadow, blue and red are not our color.

Tuesday nights have quickly become the night I hang out with Sleepless and company. We typically frequent the same establishment, however, every now and again we mix it up a bit. This week, we went to the same place we went last week. Please note: even though we went two weeks in a row, this is not our regular venue.

Upon arrival we were greeted by Tile, BeauD, Very Interested and DCC. Tile had invited several friends, as had Sleepless. We pushed two tables together, which provided more space, but made it harder to reach across for food and things. I was reviewing the menu with Tile and Sleepless and was quasi-sitting on my stool when it feel out from under me. I quickly stood up but the stool fell to the ground, hitting my heel on its way. I told Very Interested that I would most likely have a contusion. A little later Tile and I were talking to one of the wait staff and told him about the contusion. “A contusion,” he said. “Those only happen on the head.” “No way,” I told him. “Those are concussions. Contusions can happen anywhere.”

The contusion didn’t bother me the rest of the evening, but that is most likely because I was asleep, in bed, without shoes. Most of which are common concurrent activities. Although sometimes I don’t sleep in my bed. Anyway, I got ready for work, put on a shoe and tried walking. I did OK, but I clearly did some damage to my heel. Bad heel on the left, broken toe on the right. I’m an accident that didn’t wait to happen.

I was telling a coworker about my contusion and he said, “Contusion? Oh, yeah, contusion. I know what that is – I watch CSI. They say things like, ‘There was a contusion on the arm.’ That’s where I get all of my medical information.”

Fru Fru Pants celebrated her birthday this weekend and, in honor of her amazing prowess and youth, we decided to go golfing. As is often the case, we rented a cart and played the three par course. As is not often the case, we had to report to work afterwards, so some of our traditions were shelved…we’ve always tomorrow.

Fru Fru Pants wears the pants in our golfing relationship and, as a result,  often drives the cart. Mid-course, she got a phone call and allowed me to drive. I did so from the passenger side. I could have moved to the driver’s side, but I’m in the process of updating my resume and want to include, “can drive cart from both sides.”

Later in the day I met up with Sleepless for a lovely run around the local park. That’s right, I used lovely and run in the same sentence. Will not happen again (both the sentence structure and the run). We came back to my place for water and otter pops (to protect our sugar levels). After hanging on the stoop for a bit I decided to mow the lawn. One more opportunity to ramp up my resume. Sleepless and I felt an accompanying photo would help, so I donned my wellies, primed the mower, pulled the cord,  and we were well on our way to success.

My clock stopped working the other day at 9:38. I decided against replacing the battery because I felt I would get more done if I didn’t know the true time. Turns out there’s some truth to that. I managed to watch multiple episodes of Mad Men and, surprisingly, my clock started working again. The time is completely wrong, but it is working out nicely for me.

With plenty of time on my hands I planned a get together with MiniMe, Sleepless, The Leaver and QuQueen. Sleepless and I decided to wow them with desserts and purchased swedish fish, a frozen chocolate cake, whipped cream, raspberries and double stuff Oreos (Sleepless swears they are delicious dipped in red wine). I pulled out a timeless cake plate and we dressed up the cake with raspberries to give it a homemade appearance. We then took a picture of our lovely dessert spread and sent it to The Leaver and QuQueen in hopes of wetting their pallet and quickening their step. It worked.

All of the desserts were a success and gave us just the right amount of energy needed to play a good game of Boggle. We had at least three minutes, so we had time for a good game of Boggle. Sleepless had never played and was a bit nervous but it quickly became obvious she and The Leaver shared some of the same word making talents. Tary, as in ‘when one tarries,’ was one of her first words. Then there was ‘zeti.’ “To be honest, there’s not enough words in the English language so ‘zeti’ is another name for abominable snowman,” said Sleepless. “I like how she thinks,” said  The Leaver, “count it.” We were playing the last game for the evening and Sleepless was reviewing her list, “Ok, this is all I’ve got, ‘gisen.’ The rest are not real words.” “Gisen?” asked QuQueen. “Yes,” I stated, “Please use it in a sentence.” “Really?” said Sleepless. “Fine. I ain’t gisen anymore.” The Leaver needed no additional time to determine she and Sleepless would be really good Boggle partners in the event there is ever a tournament.

I decided to work at the furniture store again yesterday. I’m not sure exactly why I do that, it tends to cost me far more money than I ever make. Plus, I’m on a Mad Men marathon. Both Season One and Season Two were due yesterday and not taking them back to the library on time sort of feels like cheating to me. It’s funny because in Mad Men, the majority of the women are very sexy in a librarian, housewife, Mrs. Wiggins kind of way. At the furniture store, they prefer the women dress very non-librarian, more polygamarian. As recently as last year the dress code required hose with sandals. Hot.

A while back one of the senior (truly, he was old and a regular on hot dog days) customers made a comment about my shirt. He didn’t like it – too revealing. Yesterday, many of the staff asked “Where’s your shirt?” Apparently, this is now my uniform for the store. One of the girls piped in, “Doesn’t matter, your boobs show with that dress.” Cleavagely challenged, that’s me. That will be my claim should anyone choose to make an issue. I’ve seen many a man with PhDs whose pants enter the room before they do. Nobody says anything to them, “You should wear looser pants. Is the button fly necessary?”

Like I told Very Interested and ROFL, “The twins stay in all week when I’m at work. Every now and again I like to let them get a little peek of the world out there.” Even doctors stress the importance of getting out there and getting some vitamin D. I’m just doing my part in making the world a better place, for everyone, my twins included.

Before leaving the store I decided to buy a mattress. I went to test them out and found a woman who had been sleeping on the various mattresses, in various positions for approximately five hours. I didn’t have that kind of time nor was I wearing the proper clothing. You see, I was wearing a dress and even though the twins were out, I wasn’t ready to introduce the whole family to my coworkers or the woman on the other mattresses for that matter.