Author: grigiogirl

It has been a couple of days since I’ve written. One of my new readers and friends, Very Interested, was very interested in knowing why I haven’t done so. Probably had something to do with the weather forecast. It is really hard to top a “forecast” like that.

Last night, however, provided an opportunity. Always one to want to share my limited vocal skills and signature dance move (hobot) with others, I am a karaoke regular. There are a few other steadies on the karaoke circuit who are always up for dive bar singing with me. We made a plan to meet at one of the better karaoke bars on dive bar corner. When we arrived we were saddened to find a poker tournament in progress. This changed the mood a little bit and made it difficult for us to know who was singing because they would often use the free mic and sing, sitting down, cards in hand, at the poker table. This was an interesting looking group. They put a whole new spin on the phrase “poker face”.

We decided the mood wasn’t right for us and headed across the way to another fine establishment where about eight other patrons were present. This quickly became our place. ROFL was present, with his wife, Fiancé, and ready with his camera to capture those unbeatable photo opps. Also present was Diggler, Tile, Very Interested, and one of my all-time favorite karaokeers, LeftEared.

LeftEared and I love to karaoke the “oldies”. Poison, GNR, Billy Ocean, Sir Mix-A-Lot,  Juice Newton – the lot of them. ROFL loves a good duet and was throwing down a lot of country songs (usually he sticks to the “Islands in the Stream” genres) while LeftEared and I acted as his back-up singers. As the night came to a close, the karaoke master offered the last song (potluck) to the first two people to the mics. It should come as no surprise that LeftEared and I were holding the mics in our hands within seconds. And, seconds later, we were leading the crowd (same eight people that were there upon our arrival – we know how to hold a crowd) in the best rendition of “Don’t Stop Believing” – Glee version.

Tree stopped by for stoop time tonight after he got off of work. We were discussing our travel plans when it started to rain. “I just want to meet a boy named Etienne who I can make love to while it is raining.”  “Why Etienne?” I asked. “I just really like that name.” I promised I would do my best to find him one.

Shortly after sitting on the stoop, That’s Not Chinese joined us for a quick nightcap. Tree began telling us stories about his weekend camping trip. “I went into the tent around 9 to go to bed because I’d been drinking bourbon and someone started playing Fleetwood Mac. I get really emotional with Fleetwood Mac and bourbon.”  Who doesn’t?

That’s Not Chinese started razzing us about our sleeping habits, “I can’t believe you two stay up this late.” “You don’t stay up late or get up early.” Tree piped in, “You’re not a hunter or a gatherer. You should be dead.”

We were listening to Sia, enjoying her infectious melody, and Tree started telling us about a girl whose company was not favorable to him or anyone really, ‘”I want to cut her.” “You want to cut her,” replied That’s Not Chinese. “Do you want a hit?”  “A hit? You’re smoking a cigarette,” I said.  That’s Not Chinese responded, “I know, but since we’re cutting a bitch he  may as well take a hit.”

As That’s Not Chinese and Tree were getting ready to go, That’s Not Chinese stepped on to the lawn, hiked up her skirt, dropped her fullbacks, and said, “Looks like there is a 100% chance of golden rain showers.” Golden rain. Even if you are with Etienne, this kind of rain is not good for love making. I told That’s Not Chinese that her weather report better not leave a mark on my lawn. Tree informed her she was a trainwreck. I reminded her my neighbor likes to watch from across the way and probably enjoyed the full moon.

There are some times when you just can’t get enough of your friends. Such is the case with Sleepless, MyFace and I. Even though we spent the weekend together, we felt it was important to hang out, yet again, tonight.

I had introduced Sleepless to my cheap little sushi joint on Sunday and, no surprise, she sent me a text asking that MyFace and I join her there tonight, pre baseball game. Not one to want to miss out on a fine dining experience with friends, I quickly made my way.

MyFace and I devoted the weekend to helping Sleepless “evolve.” We introduced her to fine wines, both white and red, and I shared absinthe with her (courtesy of It Is Cheese – thank you very much). On the way to the restaurant I received a text from Sleepless telling me she had experienced a devolution and was drinking white zinfandel, again. It wasn’t really my response that concerned her – it was MyFace’s response that had her scared. Sure enough, just like she could tell I didn’t check may bag several trips ago, MyFace spotted the “discrepancy” from a half mile away. Sleepless was quick to apologize and MyFace informed her, “It’s OK, it was my favorite once too…we all devolve every now and again.”

After enjoying the baseball game I dropped MyFace off at her car and met up with Sleepless and some of her friends at a local bar. I’ve been to the bar several times, but this was the first time they let me in. One of the guys in the group was very interested in Sleepless’ friend, Unseen. Unseen is beautiful and a bit of a fittie. Very Interested was doing his very best to get Unseen’s phone number in an attempt to rendezvous later. At one point, as I was speaking with Unseen, I noticed Very Interested was very interested in Unseen’s twins. I questioned Very Interested and he stated he was not looking and wouldn’t look until they were married. Sight unseen. Right.

As the night progressed Tile was sharing her views about life, love and other matters when the topic of hair was presented. The guys in the group were quick to provide commentary, however, one of the girls in the mix said it best, “We (girls) aren’t all into bald guys. Sometimes we just wake up one day and realize the guy we are with is bald.” Like one’s wine preferences, baldness evolves.

Received a very kind voice mail from It Is Cheese today – he actually left it yesterday, but I check my messages about as often as I check myself (every other day or so). It appears MyFace, Sleepless and I have left quite an impression on the lot of them and they would like us to return for the opening of their nightclub. Why not? Perhaps I can learn French at the opening. It Is Cheese is Swiss and speaks French. When I told him I had taken Italian classes but didn’t learn much other than, “Io o pantalones blu,” he stated, “That is because you took Italian from someone who speaks Italian. If you really want to learn Italian, take it from someone who speaks French.” Makes perfect sense. I wish I had thought of it sooner. My Italian class was very beneficial, however, in that I got to spend one day a week with Alice – the gift that just keeps giving.

Fortunately for me, I got to hang out with Alice this week, sans language lessons. She sent me a message early in the week inviting me to a party at her house in celebration of Mick Jagger’s Birthday and, as a side note, because somebody is moving away. This somebody’s boyfriend, Cardboard CutOut (he couldn’t be there so Alice made a small cardboard gnome of sorts), sponsored the party – purchased all kinds of delicious foods from a local eatery and provided all kinds of beer, wine and spirits. Upon arriving Alice had me pose with Cardboard CutOut for a few pictures. The sauciest photos were of Alice and I on the bed with Cardboard CutOut. He was the cream and we were the cookies. Scandalous.

Last year OregganO and I had a yard sale and gave unsold items to friends and enemies. Alice became the recipient of “The Swell Life,” a journal in which she could write down all of our funny conversations and comments. Alice and I have spent many nights adding to the book and, until recently, Hot Mustard stood by and shook his head while laughing inside (LI, a lot like LOL, but different). Alice shared a story with me about a time she and Hot Mustard were wrapped in each other’s arms in the bathroom. Alice was facing the mirror and Hot Mustard was facing Alice. Hot Mustard was feeling slightly frisky and asked Alice, “Are you tired?” Alice replied, “No, I’m ready to party and I look really pretty.” Hot Mustard replied, “Write that in the book.” He’s coming around.

Alice and I started talking about other funny comments that were either in the book or bookable. I mentioned a few of the comments made by It Is Cheese this weekend, for example, “Smell with your mouth.” It Is Cheese brought MyFace a shot and suggested she smell it. He came back a few minutes later to find MyFace had enjoyed every last drop of the shot and he responded, “That was really for me. I just told you to smell and I find out you smell with your mouth. I’m a kidding.” Alice quite liked this exchange and stated, “Smell with your mouth, not with your hands. Isn’t that an old saying?” Maybe. Let’s see. There is ‘melt in your mouth, not in your hand’ and ‘see with your eyes, not with your hands’ and, now, coined by Alice, ‘smell with your mouth, not with your hands.’ Another bookable comment.

I told Alice about a new book of comments titled, “Sh*t My Dad Says“. She replied, “I could totally write a book like that. Except, I don’t remember any of the shit my dad said.” Bookable. It was obvious Alice was getting tired so I packed up my lunch (Hot Mustard had provided me baggies for leftovers several hours earlier). As she and I were wrapping up our conversation Hot Mustard came into the room. Alice asked how much longer his friends might be staying and if it would be rude to ask them to leave. She then stated, “I’m just so tired.” I replied, “but you look really pretty…..”

D-Dog and Bird met up with Sleepless, MyFace and I for mayhem in a small Colorado town. Sleepless was slightly disappointed in me for not bringing my new karaoke kit, courtesy of Try Singing?. I was actually pretty disappointed myself – there wasn’t a lot to do in this little town. I did bring Uno and Adverteasing, however, so that helped bring my mood back up and keep us busy a little later in the evening (after fruitless attempts to dance at the two “nightclubs” in town).

After a night of complete recklessness, we decided to venture up the top of the mountain so Bird could ride his bike down and we could hike. Hiking down should have been a pretty simple task being that the lift takes you up to the top and the mountain goes straight down to the main village area. Several hours later we made it back to the village incident free, which is very lucky considering MyFace didn’t bring the fanny pack, had no trail maps, and most definitely hit a couple of Double Diamonds’ (aka, Double Ds) ski/hiking trails. We are contemplating becoming tour guides for those who like to go off the beaten path…..a lot.

Unfortunately, D-Dog and Bird had to return home – they had pork chops waiting for them. Sleepless, MyFace and I got dolled up for a night on the town (different from the “town” the night before, slightly higher population and elevation). I donned a dress I had picked up with YummYummy in New York and, upon putting it on, realized I had forgotten the proper undergarments. I decided not to worry about it and Sleepless agreed with my decision, telling me it wasn’t too sheer on the top and, if necessary, I could just throw on a jacket and cover up the Double Diamonds.

We had some time before our dinner reservation so we decided to shop around the town. We stumbled upon a really saucy little boutique and, while finding some amazing fashions, Sleepless pointed out a pile of bandeaus. We found one that would work with my dress and she negotiated with the sales associate so I could put it on then and pay later. I was in a dressing room trying on clothes with MyFace when I realized one of the dresses might be too sheer should I decide to wear underwear. I couldn’t really tell without actually wearing underwear and, within seconds, MyFace came to the rescue. “Here, I can’t believe I’m doing this. Just borrow these real quickly.” She’s a good friend. I bought the dress, but I definitely can’t wear black underwear with it.

As I was paying for all of my items I reminded the cashier that I needed to pay for the bandeau. “Oh, aren’t those amazing?” she asked. “I was going to tell you about those when you first came in.” Hmmm.

Upon arriving in Denver, Sleepless and I ventured toward the making room room. We were in our respective stalls sassing off about the posh amenities, specifically toilet paper AND a toilet paper dispenser, when the woman in the stall next to me started screaming, “Help, help me, I’m stuck, I can’t get out.” I had a feeling she was stuck before she said anything (I could see her feet dancing around like crazy in her stall – I figured she was either stuck or related to Larry Craig) and couldn’t walk on by without assisting. I pushed her door inward (apparently, she hadn’t tried pulling the door open) and saved her from herself.

Our first matter of business (second to the stall incident) was pedicures with Mary Jo. The best part about these pedicures was the company and the wine. Mary Jo suggested we frequent the restaurant below her salon for fondue and drinks with the owner. We followed her advice and met up with It Is Cheese for some of the most incredible Kaseschnitte I’ve ever had. We felt we owed it to Mary Jo to join us for drinks, so she did and gifted us a lovely bottle of champagne for morning mimosas. It Is Cheese made sure we had the best waiter on staff, his nephew, Go On…. Every now and again we would have questions about appetizers or other menu items and Go On…, who just recently moved to Colorado from Brussels, would tell us all about it. His accent was so fantastic we were hanging on his every word. Never before has Sleepless been so excited about learning!

We asked It Is Cheese the age of Go On…, “Just old enough for you, 27.” We asked if he had a girlfriend, “Not yet, tonight, perhaps. If you are lucky.” A little while later we were discussing our Kaseschnitte with It Is Cheese. Someone asked the ingredients and It Is Cheese replied, “It is not banana, it is cheese. I send bananas to my other guy. He makes it mushy.” We opted against asking for all of the mushy details.

Being that we ended up spending our entire afternoon in the proximity of Mary Jo and It Is Cheese’s businesses, we asked them for a photo. After It Is Cheese posed with us he commented, “My heart beating. Not, hard beating. I know what you think.” Shortly after that Go On… accidentally knocked over MyFace’s water. Both Go On… and It Is Cheese were quick to clean it up. “Oh my,” said It Is Cheese to MyFace and the rest of us still sitting at the table. “We are all wet here.”

Sleepless and I could not stop laughing about the various comments – even MyFace couldn’t keep a straight face once we were “all wet.” I decided I best start taking notes so I wouldn’t forget any of it. “She write everything down,” said It Is Cheese. “I knew it – you are police.”

A little later Sleepless was enjoying some of the Bauernteller when It Is Cheese threw one of the pickles over the fence. “It is going to grow a pickle tree. I want a pickle tree.” He then looked at Sleepless and asked, “What color pickle you want? White? Green Black?” “No thank you on the black,” said Sleepless. “It won’t fit, no room at the inn.” It Is Cheese looked at MyFace for a response to that comment, “I’ve got nothing to say,” said MyFace. “Me neither,” said It Is Cheese, “I am Swiss.”

MyFace, Sleepless and I decided to go to Colorado for the weekend. We actually made the decision and booked flights over a month ago.
MyFace is pretty adament about not checking bags, so I forewarned Sleepless. Sleepless and I planned to meet MyFace at the airport and had hoped to catch up with MiniMe because she was heading to Portland at the same time.
Prior to leaving my house I searched and searched for my itinerary – I could not find it. I finally surrendered to the idea that I may not have actually booked it (been there, done that) and would be buying a ticket at the airport.
Because I like to mess with MyFace, while we were waiting to check in I sent her a text and asked her the flight time. Her reply, “Now, you should be here.”
Turns out, I did actually book my ticket.Sleepless and I giggled about my situation until they couldn’t find her ticket. Turns out that even if you have an itinerary and confirmation number (which she did), it doesn’t mean anything. Sleepless had to buy a ticket. While they were trying to resolve the issue, they had to make a call to hold the plane. Nothing like stopping air traffic.
As we were taking our time going through security (we weren’t really taking our time, but we figured since they were already holding the plane…), things got a bit jammed up, literally.
The woman in front of us had packed jam in her carry-on and TSA staff were not happy about it. Luckily, TSA let us pass her by and as we quickly made our way to the gate Sleepless stated, “If it is Bear Lake jam it is totally worth the risk.” Totally.

Tree and I got together for stoop time last night and started talking about moving again.
Last time we stooped I suggested we move to New York. This time I suggested Amsterdam. He suggested Austin.
His reason for choosing Austin is a friend moving there and they have a good music scene. He had me on the latter – Bob Schneider is from Austin. Mmmmm.
Tree stated he would pick up extra shifts to save money, could probably get us buddy passes, and would definitely need to get a cell phone – in case we get separated.
He asked what we would do for work in Amsterdam and I shared the European dream with him: kebab cart.
If that doesn’t pan out, I’ve come up with a fashion line that will take Europe by storm.

It seems like forever since I’ve hung out with Sleepless, at least 12 hours, so I was very excited about the prospect of hanging out with her last night.  Scot-tea and Venn. I was the first to arrive at our favorite restaurbar and ordered a “surprise me” from the $2 well drinks special. Just after receiving my drink I spoke with Mini Sparkle Donut’s little sister. She was interested in joining us and I was excited to see her and have her meet my friends.

She needed a ride, so I phoned Scot-tea and asked him to retrieve her. She was precautious (similar to precocious, but different) about getting in a car with a stranger and asked if we could make a safe word, so as to make sure she didn’t actually get in the wrong car.  We came up with a safe word and, a few minutes later, Scot-tea rolled up to retrieve her. She asked if he knew the secret word and he replied, “Teapot. ” She was in like Flynn.

Once we were all at the restaurbar, we started ordering meals and appetizers. Teapot convinced Scot-tea to do a little jingle with her, “When you say tea, I say pot….tea…pot….tea…pot.” That seemed to get them far. Scot-Tea was complimenting Sleepless on her natural beauty and smashing personality, “I thought about you the other night – I took care of it.” SleepLess thanked him for his kindness.

We ordered some food and Teapot proved to all of us that she was a good eater. Scot-tea made a comment about her appetite and she replied, “Thanks a lot, our safe word is no longer safe.” A few minutes, and most of his crab cakes later, they were best of friends again, “When you say tea, I say pot….tea…pot….tea…pot.”

It has been some time since I’ve spoken with PD. A while back he packed up his Bushnell binoculars and hasn’t looked back or through the bushes, at least not that I’ve noticed (Peeping Duane).

He recently phoned me to discuss headlines (one of our favorite past times), which led to a discussion about a tragic incident experienced recently by a friend. “Never get out of bed for stupid shit,” said PD, “That’s my new my motto. You should also never push a fat guy off of a bike. Neither one ever ends well.” I sure miss seeing PD’s  eyes through the binoculars, the Ligustrum ovalifolium, and the stalking injunction.

Sleepless and I met up later in the day to celebrate her new residence. We went to a quaint little Mexican restaurant in a shady part of town. Nothing says “celebrate” like good food and drinks accompanied by drug deals and “I HOing”. After some riveting street entertainment and a call to police dispatch, we headed to the stores for a little shopping.

We decided to use the making room room at one of the retailers and I quickly learned the true meaning of being green. My stall had no toilet paper. It wasn’t that the dispenser was empty, because there was no dispenser. The only thing my stall had was a toilet.  Sleepless was kind enough to waddle over (her pants weren’t completely intact) and bring me a few squares. Prior to doing that, however, she offered me some advice, “Why don’t you just sit over there and shake it off until I’m ready? By the time I’m there with toilet paper you’ll be dry.” Besides toilet paper, the only thing missing from that scene was Muzak playing “That’s What Friends Are For.”

I made it home in time to share an always entertaining telephone conversation with S-Unit. A while back she was really sick, missed loads of work. “Not only did I have bronchitis, I had dehydration and exhaustion. Call me Lindsay Lohan.” I think I’ll just keep calling her S-Unit. Which is kind of close to Lindsay, or at least close to where Lindsay will be staying soon, the SN Unit of the Los Angeles County Jail.

Towards the end of our call, I shared a story with her about someone I used to know. At the conclusion of my story we both said, in stereo, “What a dick!” There was momentary silence and then S-Unit said, “Hello?” “Hello,” I replied. “Did we both just say ‘what a dick’ at the same time? Wow – I thought I was hearing my own voice back at me….echo, echo, echo.” Maybe I will call her Lindsay Lohan.