Month: December 2011

Females can be catty. I know this because I am one and have, when necessary, been catty. Exclusivity almost always goes hand in hand with cattiness, so, when I was invited to Oper’s birthday party, I knew I had really made it in the world of womanhood.

 

The odds for men at the party were good or bad – depending on how you were looking at it. If my math was right, the ratio was 1:6. “Where’s Danger?” I asked Oper about her boyfriend. The host of the party chimed in, “He doesn’t really like being around all of The Generals – calls us the Cheeseburger Brigade.”

 

“Why?” I asked. Turns out all of the girls were hanging out once and one of them told the others her snatch-a-doodle-doo looked like a cheeseburger. This, of course, sparked the curiosity of the other girls so, as any good friend would do, she showed them. This resulted in the rest of the girls showing their menu item. “Was Danger there when that happened?” I asked. “Oh no,” Oper said and added, “But I told him all about it.” The host piped in, “It was pretty interesting. We had cheeseburger, bacon, everything.” I, of course, asked about bacon and she did not hesitate to explain, “Yes, bacon – lips that look like bacon.”

 

Wow. I had no idea that this party was both a celebration of Oper’s age and a value menu. Gives Quarter Pound Her, Plil Lay Her Fish, and Seven Laid Her Buried O all new meaning.

 

 

While at lunch with Miss Information she was sharing her frustration about a couple of coworkers who went to lunch without her. “I think you may need to mediate when we return,” she advised me. “Did you send them a text to see where they are?” I asked. “Yes, no response. Where there’s a will…” she replied. “…there’s a way. We should totally start our own mediation service. You be Will and I’ll be Way. Will & Way Mediation, Inc.,” I suggested.

 

“Let’s do it. In the meantime, let’s check out what our homie name might be,” she stated, distracted by a shiny poster with pictures and names of ‘homies’, which seemed to have caused her to forget her need for mediation. I quickly found my name, ‘Bubbles,’ and told her, “It makes sense that this be my homie name because it is already my stage name and when I say ‘stage name,’ I mean the name I use when I dress up as a clown at birthday parties. Which is something I haven’t done for years. Recession and all.” “Speaking of birthday parties, did you know you can take the letters from ‘Happy Birthday’ and make the phrase ‘Hippy Bath Party?'” she asked. “I did not know that,” I replied. “Yeah, I did it once,” she proudly announced. “Had a hippy bath party or changed the letters around?” I asked. “Where there’s a will….” she replied.

I was recently on a quest to find a glass vendor that I had seen at an art festival this summer. As I was conducting every search possible to locate the vendor, I came up with a few business ideas of my own. As is the case with most of my ideas, the concepts were completely random. So, like the rest of my ideas, I put them in my idea book, which I may end up using as tinder one day .

 

Eventually, I found the vendor’s link and realized my ideas may not be so random after all. The ‘production’ company, if you will, not only works with wine bottles, they also do photography, lawn aeration, fertilization and sprinkler winterization. This gave me great hope for my business.

 

So, keep your eyes and ears open for GG Productions – handwritten signs, conference themes, babysitting, snow shoveling and mod podging. My website will be complete with a ‘contact us’ section and an ‘about the artist’ section. I plan to follow the glass vendor’s lead and have nothing on the ‘about the artist’ page except for a picture of the backside of me. Yes, that is correct, when you click on ‘about the artist,’ you will see France. So grab your passport, credit cards and fanny pack and get ready to shop!

It’s been a while since Sleepless and I have been to C in a Box and, thanks to Sleepless’ recommendation, we met up there tonight with Standard Time and One And Done. To our surprise and pleasure, Frozen Soup was working. We ordered our standards – anything we want – and truly enjoyed the pours.

 

As we were discussing foods, Sleepless advised us of a situation, “Oh, man, my pants are not easy to get on lately. Between France and Ice Cream Man in them,” she said and then realized what she said at the same time that Standard Time and I realized what she said. “You know what I mean,” she said, trying to save face. “Oh, yes, we do,” Standard Time told her. “Relationships will do that to you,” I told her and added, “That’s why I’m thinking about breaking up with myself.”

 

As we were dining and dishing, we came up with a great idea for a short documentary which would involve C in a Box, Frozen Soup and online dating. We called him over to share the idea and let him know we would be filming there. “No problem. You can use the establishment, me, anything. I’ve done commercials. I once did a commercial with Jane Lynch. We got shithoused together and she told me she was working on this thing called Best In Show. I’m still doing commercials.” “Not after tonight,” I advised him. “That guy looks like Ben Stiller,” One And Done stated as he walked away. “That guy? Frozen Soup? That guy is our main man in the show,” I replied.

 

After spending a few hours plotting our next big business endeavor, we decided to drop in at a concert. We arrived too late for the opening band and just in time for the main band. “I’ve never stayed out this late on a week night,” Standard Time advised us. “It’s just after 9,” Sleepless told her. “I know, crazy!” she replied. Once we entered the venue she noticed a lot of the attendees were much younger than us. “It’s true, we are a bit older, but not that old. One day, we’ll be old and shitting our pants,” I told her and added, “I don’t really want that to happen, so I’m shitting my pants now.”

 

We then did what we always do at such events – got drinks, front row, set lists, and pictures with the band. When we were next to the stage, Standard Time made a suggestion, “We should throw our bras up on the stage. It would be cool if they were like 1930s bras.” “Or we could throw our Depends on the stage,” I suggested. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us to wear plaid,” Sleepless told me with great disappointment. She was right. We usually dress according to theme and we missed the unshowered, unshaved, plaid boat. There were more plaid shirts at this event than at an Indigo Girls concert.

 

As we left the concert, Sleepless told us, “These last four minutes have been the best – this is exactly why we need to go on a girls trip.” “The last four minutes are usually the best,” I replied. Standard Time agreed and we left the bar with our integrity and Depends, surprisingly, still intact. In addition, we arrived home before midnight.

There are many people, myself included, who wonder how it was ever possible that I was the president of Future Homemakers of America (FHA).

 

The other day, while attempting to organize my closet, I came across some stuck items on the shelf. As I was yanking them out of stuckness, a container fell off the shelf and landed on my money maker. No, not my ass, my face. Primary point of contact: my mouth. Even though I was alone, my eyes widened as if to say, “What the FHA!?!” My first instinct was to check for my teeth. Thankfully, they were all still intact – I’m a little too old to be asking Santa for two front teeth.

 

I quickly headed to the freezer to grab an Otter Pop so as to reduce the swelling – very FHA of me. As the Otter Pop began to thaw I realized I would need to treat my lip and pounding headache with an additional chilled device: ice paired with a glass of Irish cream liqueur. It was at this time that I received a text message from Opreggano, catching up with me on the day’s events. I had been craving an avocado (I believe this may be a side effect of being hit by falling objects), so I decided to eat one. “It should help with the swelling,” I told her. “Does avocado help with swelling?” she asked. “I’m allergic to it, makes my lips swell,” I advised her. “You will look like you stepped out of Beverly Hills with a lip enhancement,” she replied and added, “You should have your own show.” I reminded her I am on Wilson Phillips: Still Holding On and then sent her a picture of my lips. “OMG those are huge!” “Please, don’t hate,” I replied. “I have lip envy!”she said.

 

The next day, I decided to give homemaking another go and bake some bread. Being that I had so many ripe bananas, I opted to increase the recipe by 2/3. As I was halfway through my 1 2/3 project, I realized I didn’t have enough eggs or shortening. My FHA wisdom solved the shortening shortage – use butter and reduce salt. Eggs, unfortunately, do not have a substitute and I needed to go to the store.

 

Like so many other homemakers, aka domestic goddesses, I had been lounging around all day in a comfy fleece sweatsuit. Although sweatsuits are great around the house, camping, and in old school rap videos, they’re not always great out on the town. Being that it was less than 20 degrees outside, I embraced my comfy beauty, accessorized with a pair of snow boots and beanie, and headed to the grocery store. I had been texting That’s Not Chinese about my baking adventures when I shared my attire with her and added, “Reason #347 why I’m not getting laid.” She replied, “Shit, that must be why I’m not either….I only wear those in the states.” Yes, our sweats are only for domestic travel. That helps keep things special, especially when you’re shagging a Shaman.

I recently learned I was ‘featured’ in a reality TV show, Wilson Phillips: Still Holding On. This didn’t come as much of a surprise for me because we (Sleepless, Ice Cream Man, Tree and BioMom) signed releases the day we were filmed. Being that I have the less than basic cable package, I don’t have the channel on which the show airs, so I had to make a special request to Opreggano to record it. Fortunately, she was willing to do so.

 

I’ve not yet watched the show, but Opreggano was telling me about it the other day, “They’re pretty catty with each other.” “Hmm, so it’s probably a lot like how our show would be if we had one?” I asked. “Actually, yes,” she replied. Apparently, Sleepless is front and center with her tambourine, Tree is very emotional (crying), I’m singing, Ice Cream Man is in the background, and BioMom’s computer is broken (all you can see are her boobs – the “perks” of being tall).

 

With all of this new attention, BioMom advised me she is hiring staff/bouncers and then asked, “Where does one staff shop?” “I know some Greeks,” I replied. “I just need staff who could be mobsters. This fame thing is going to my head. Now I just need to develop some kind of bad habit. Thinking sex tapes,” she told me and added, “I just want people to whisper about me behind my mother’s back.” Being a good friend, I told her, “I can do that.”

As of late (the last 20 years or so), I have a tendency to sleep late and not much. This may sound odd to some, but I don’t go to bed very early. Once I do fall asleep, I tend to sleep for a short amount of time and late into the morning. When discussing her retirement, Fine Girl mentioned sleep, “Once I’m retired I am going to sleep in every day.” “Maybe I am partly retired,” I told Sleepless.

 

Sleepless, appropriately named, and I have a lot in common. Not sleeping being one lot. I’m not entirely sure why she doesn’t sleep. I don’t sleep for a variety of reasons – not tired, get distracted, reading, writing and arithmetic. Some of the best sleep Sleepless and I ever had was in Switzerland. I don’t know if it was the beds, the comfort of the hotel, or the privilege of watching German’s Next Topmodel (simply the best), but we slept very well there. As I ponder it more, I wonder if perhaps a move to Switzerland is in order. Then I start thinking about what I’ll need to do to make that happen – more reading, writing and arithmetic – and the next thing I know it is morning.

 

I notice Sleepless is up (thank you facebook) and ask her what, besides her, is up. “Sometimes my name is appropriate.:) Have you had a nap tonight?” she replied. Napping is really the more appropriate term for what I occasionally do at night. I told her I hadn’t napped and that I had been doing  a variety of miscellaneous things – one of which was writing the  blog. A few minutes later, I receive this message from her, “This week’s reading entertainment is brought to you by the letter P. Thank you! You’re positively perfect! One hundred percent!” I looked back at my previous entries and she was right  – for the last week they all started with the letter P. Reminded me of the time That’s Not Chinese did online dating and only dated people whose name started with J.

 

Being that I had used P so many times, I thought it might make sense to start an entry with Q. Which made me think of ‘mind your Ps and Qs,’ and caused me to wonder the origin of that phrase (something that, as another saying goes, “kept me up at night,” while I researched it). Seems the jury is still out on this one, however, the term was first believed to be used in the early 1600s. There are several derivations, my favorite being my own (which I came up with instead of sleeping), “mind your pees in queues.” Put simply, don’t pee when waiting in line for the loo.

 

While visiting with Dr. BJ and That’s Not Chinese, That’s Not Chinese kept referencing her piehole, “Sometimes I can’t help the things that come out of my piehole.” “Ew, every time you say that I think of something else,” Dr. BJ told her. “You too?” I asked and then suggested, “Why don’t you just open and close your legs to match what you’re saying?” That’s Not Chinese all too willingly agreed to do so.

 

According to Merriam-Webster, the first known use of ‘piehole,’ aka mouth, occurred in 1993. Thinking back, that date is probably pretty accurate as I believe that is the year Mini Me got Pete the Repeat Parrot for Christmas. Instead of utilizing Pete to practice Latin or ‘interrogate suspects with double effectiveness,’ thanks to my family, Pete turned out to be more like Polly the Insulting Parrot. To Pete’s defense, he wasn’t repeating things like ‘Dickhead alert,’ or ‘Who’s a pretty Polly? Not you lardass.’  Instead, Pete repeatedly repeated, “Shut your piehole.”

 

Almost twenty years later and my piehole is still open. As I was thinking about all of this, I realized I hadn’t eaten dinner. Earlier, I had made a conscious decision to eat better. I headed to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator to assess my options, and made an executive decision to fill my piehole with a single-serve slice of key lime pie. After the fork touched base with my pallet, I did just as Pete repeated, I shut my piehole.

Fine girl is really into insertion and manipulation, more specifically, acupuncture. While celebrating her upcoming retirement and Calling The Dog’s birthday, she told us she had an acupuncture appointment afterward. She went on to tell us how handsome her acupuncturist is, “I love going to him for that reason.” She isn’t the only person I know who goes to certain providers because of their looks. That’s Not Chinese and Dr. BJ went to a particularly chiropractor for years because he was, “really good and really good looking.” I go to my doctor because she is covered by my insurance.

 

A while back, Fine Girl had a great session with her handsome acupuncturist. The next morning, she got up to go to work, tossled her hair a bit, and found a pin (needle) in her head. “I was a pinhead – I still had a pin in my head because, somehow, he had missed one. So, I pulled it out,” she told us. “I was kind of wishing you had left it in your head and gone to work,” I told her. “Yes, that would have been good,” Calling The Dog agreed and added, “Then, when people noticed it you could have said, ‘Duh, I know. Quit messin’ with my qi.'” “Did you ever tell him he left one in?” I asked. “No, I can’t tell him that – he’s too good looking,” Fine Girl replied. At this point, she was just being a pinhead, literally.

FatGirl has been planning to stop by all week. On one occasion, he canceled because he was tired. On the second occasion, he didn’t cancel, but I chose to postpone the start time because I was spending time with MiniMe. “Oh, please. Tell her it is time to cut the umbilical cord,” he told me. I relayed his comment to MiniMe who quipped, “I’m not the one living with my mom.” MiniMe: 1, FatGirl: O.

 

Umbilical cord dependent, FatGirl eventually showed up (several days later) with Tree. We began discussing politics – not always a wise topic – when the issue of online videos was mentioned. “I’ve always wanted to run for Senate, but I worry about the possibility of videos surfacing,” FatGirl advised us. This isn’t an issue for Tree, who has had a reality TV show for the last several years. One might think a reality TV show would get in the way of a political career, however, it would be difficult to track down all of the “episodes” as most of them are captured on CCTV.

 

Passed The Sniff Test wasn’t too worried about what others might think if they saw videos or other depictions of him (including face-to-face interactions), “I’m funny. Life is funny. If you’re not funny, fuck you.” Always one to focus on the marketing end of the business, I quickly wrote this down because I have a feeling it just may be his campaign slogan. FatGirl giggled and said, “I’m funny too. Wanna see?” He then pretended to unzip his pants, at which time, Tree looked around for the CCTV camera. Definitely not PC, even on CCTV.