I like to stay anonymous on the road. I like black or white cars with no flashy accessories. Well, I have to admit to having a "peace frog" sticker adorning the spare tire on my back bumper...but nothing more than a little splash of color. I also have a huge monkey, who sits in a booster seat in my backseat, but with my tinted windows no one sees him. He's merely there for company and passenger entertainment.
Yesterday I was sitting at a red light, when I spotted a huge rolling orange heading toward me, about three blocks away. I just gaped at this car when it finally reached my intersection. It was an older model Chevy, bright, bright orange. The chrome on the wheels was trimmed out in orange. The car had been lifted so you'd need a small step ladder to climb into it. (or at least I would cause white girls don't jump) Behind the wheel was a huge black man, so large his belly was up against the steering wheel. His windows were rolled down, the bass on his stereo turned up so loud...MY car started vibrating. After the initial shock of it all wore off I looked at the driver and couldn't help smiling at the big grin on his face. He obviously thought he was the "shit" and I was happy for him.
I wouldn't even want to be a passenger in a car like that. Forget the stress of having to figure out how to climb in and out...the stares of fellow road travelers and pedestrians would make me want to crawl under the dash.
Years ago I owned a copper Mazda. It was the first time that color had ever been on the road. I traded the car in six months later because of all the stares it got. I considered buying a Volkswagen bug when they first reissued them, but I knew I'd have to have a bright blue one and cover it in flowers. Not exactly non-descript. I don't want a sports vehicle either cause I'd order it in bright red and it's a known fact that red cars get stopped by police more than any other color car. I've got a heavy foot...so I want to stay as ghost like as possible on the road.
Nope, I'll keep my lovely low key black RAV4. The peace frog is really just so I can identify my car in parking lots. It's a very, very popular model. Ahhhh anonymity.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
WOMAN OVERBOARD?
Suggestion: If you are preparing to go on your first ever cruise...do NOT watch Deadly Honeymoon. This is a movie about a couple on a honeymoon cruise and he suddenly disappears...apparently he went overboard...and she is the suspect.
We will be cruising at the end of this month and now...I've got to be sure I don't stand too close to the rails, while my husband has his hand on my back. Of course with my over active imagination I can picture all kinds of "lost at sea" scenarios. I plan on canceling the small life insurance policy we have on me and I'll be sure to let my husband know there is no monetary value to me taking a midnight swim over the side of our ship. I'm also sending out this blog so everyone will know I'm gonna be on board a floating death trap and if I disappear you can get in touch with the authorities.
Okay folks, just kidding. If my hubby wanted to get rid of me he'd put arsenic in my coffee, not try to shove me off a ship with thousands of potential witnesses. But just in case...I made sure we didn't get a room with a balcony. I mean why tempt fate, huh?
We will be cruising at the end of this month and now...I've got to be sure I don't stand too close to the rails, while my husband has his hand on my back. Of course with my over active imagination I can picture all kinds of "lost at sea" scenarios. I plan on canceling the small life insurance policy we have on me and I'll be sure to let my husband know there is no monetary value to me taking a midnight swim over the side of our ship. I'm also sending out this blog so everyone will know I'm gonna be on board a floating death trap and if I disappear you can get in touch with the authorities.
Okay folks, just kidding. If my hubby wanted to get rid of me he'd put arsenic in my coffee, not try to shove me off a ship with thousands of potential witnesses. But just in case...I made sure we didn't get a room with a balcony. I mean why tempt fate, huh?
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
HAIR TODAY, PROBABLY NOT GONE TOMORROW
For the past two days I have spent about an hour each day standing in a pile of hair. No, this isn't some kinky new turn-on I've discovered. It's simply that time of year when my dog leaves hairballs all over the house. Hair falls off him by the handful.
I hate seeing this hair all over, so the elimination process must begin. The excess hair doesn't bother my dog, but the removal of it does. I have to sneak the FURminator DeShedding Tool out of the closet and then try to coax the dog over to me. He always gets this look in his eyes and stands staring at me. "Why is she using the high pitched baby choocie coo voice? She must be going to do something I hate." He'll then tuck his tail between his legs and try to slink away. At which point I will grab him by his collar and drag him to the grooming area, as he sits and tries to make this process as difficult as possible.
I am always in awe of how much hair I remove from him. I think I could probably comb him every day and still get grocery bags full of hair. I'm a recycle type gal and hate to throw stuff away, so I'm considering storing the bags of hair in our garage over the summer. Then this fall I'll begin working on creating Christmas gifts for friends and family. Oh, oh, I can see people crossing my name off their Christmas gift exchange list already. HA, SWEET!
I hate seeing this hair all over, so the elimination process must begin. The excess hair doesn't bother my dog, but the removal of it does. I have to sneak the FURminator DeShedding Tool out of the closet and then try to coax the dog over to me. He always gets this look in his eyes and stands staring at me. "Why is she using the high pitched baby choocie coo voice? She must be going to do something I hate." He'll then tuck his tail between his legs and try to slink away. At which point I will grab him by his collar and drag him to the grooming area, as he sits and tries to make this process as difficult as possible.
I am always in awe of how much hair I remove from him. I think I could probably comb him every day and still get grocery bags full of hair. I'm a recycle type gal and hate to throw stuff away, so I'm considering storing the bags of hair in our garage over the summer. Then this fall I'll begin working on creating Christmas gifts for friends and family. Oh, oh, I can see people crossing my name off their Christmas gift exchange list already. HA, SWEET!
Monday, May 3, 2010
SHOWERS OF TESTOSTERONE
I love baby showers. I love the glow on the mother's face, the fun games, the laughter and the smiles and the "aaaahhhs" when the gifts are opened.
Sunday I attended a shower for the daughter-in-law of a friend. Seems like just yesterday I was attending baby showers for my friends and now so many of them are going to be grandparents. The circle of life.
This shower was different because the husbands were invited to attend. Women based events really take a twist when testosterone is thrown into the mix. Suddenly things that seemed so sweet and natural become fodder for jokes and laughs. Mostly male laughter, although the women did get a few giggles out of the raunchiness of the men. Nose syringes, gas medicine, anything related to nipples or breasts, hell...even nail clippers were the objects of amusements.
My husband summed it up very well, after the third fart joke, "this is why you DON'T invite men to a baby shower." Amen, brotha, Amen!
Sunday I attended a shower for the daughter-in-law of a friend. Seems like just yesterday I was attending baby showers for my friends and now so many of them are going to be grandparents. The circle of life.
This shower was different because the husbands were invited to attend. Women based events really take a twist when testosterone is thrown into the mix. Suddenly things that seemed so sweet and natural become fodder for jokes and laughs. Mostly male laughter, although the women did get a few giggles out of the raunchiness of the men. Nose syringes, gas medicine, anything related to nipples or breasts, hell...even nail clippers were the objects of amusements.
My husband summed it up very well, after the third fart joke, "this is why you DON'T invite men to a baby shower." Amen, brotha, Amen!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM
We have an elephant living in our downstairs bathroom. I never actually see him, but I do hear him...every time we flush the toilet. I forget that he's there till I flush. A few seconds later I can hear his mournful moan fill the house.
We could get rid of the elephant. But it might mean replacing the inner workings of the toilet and I don't believe the elephant annoys my husband nearly as much as it does me. Maybe it's because I am home more and I get to hear it trumpeting five or six times a day. Maybe it's because I'm a woman and shit like this really bothers us.
I haven't asked him to kill the elephant. His brother silenced it for a brief while when he was visiting a couple of months ago. I guess I should have paid attention to what he did. Something about a hose and moving it and blah, blah, blah. I still say "toilet" issues should not be my project.
It's gonna be embarrassing when we have company over and they ask, "what the hell is that noise?". I intend to answer, "oh that's just our elephant in the bathroom, but the great white hunter in our family won't kill it." Husbands sometimes need motivation.
We could get rid of the elephant. But it might mean replacing the inner workings of the toilet and I don't believe the elephant annoys my husband nearly as much as it does me. Maybe it's because I am home more and I get to hear it trumpeting five or six times a day. Maybe it's because I'm a woman and shit like this really bothers us.
I haven't asked him to kill the elephant. His brother silenced it for a brief while when he was visiting a couple of months ago. I guess I should have paid attention to what he did. Something about a hose and moving it and blah, blah, blah. I still say "toilet" issues should not be my project.
It's gonna be embarrassing when we have company over and they ask, "what the hell is that noise?". I intend to answer, "oh that's just our elephant in the bathroom, but the great white hunter in our family won't kill it." Husbands sometimes need motivation.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
A 3-WAY
I bet a man invented the 3-way mirror. Oh yes, and the fluorescent lighting to go with it. No woman in her right mind would have done this to herself or her fellow female population.
I went bathing suit shopping yesterday. I dread bathing suit shopping and haven't gone in about ten years. However, my hubby and I are taking a small cruise in three weeks, so I thought maybe I should try finding a more current style. I'm certainly not looking to WOW them on board the ship...I just don't want people jumping overboard or worse yet...pointing and laughing.
I had two very dear friends go with me to keep me from slashing my wrists. I'm so glad I invited them along. They were invaluable when it came to suggestions and helping me choose the right color, style and fit. I settled on a Tankini, which I'd never even considered, but thanks to one of my friends I tried several on and actually found one that didn't make me look too awful. I'll get a full length cover-up and stay in the water most of the time and I should do fine that way.
I have a suggestion for stores selling bathing suits to the over 40 crowd. Smash those damn 3-way mirrors...we can only stand looking at one side at a time! Get rid of the unflattering fluorescent lights. We don't care if we look old, wrinkled and green in the office, but when we're trying on clothes, bras or bathing suits...we'd like to have rosy lighting and not glaring 5000 watt bulbs. If you really want to obtain our business...do what a friend of mine suggested and serve us cosmos while we shop. Who knows how much we'll spend if you get us drunk enough?
My new suit is still sitting in the bag I brought it home in. I'll try it on a few more times before we sail away...just to get semi-comfortable with the way I look in it. But you can bet your ass I won't be looking in anymore 3-way mirrors!
I went bathing suit shopping yesterday. I dread bathing suit shopping and haven't gone in about ten years. However, my hubby and I are taking a small cruise in three weeks, so I thought maybe I should try finding a more current style. I'm certainly not looking to WOW them on board the ship...I just don't want people jumping overboard or worse yet...pointing and laughing.
I had two very dear friends go with me to keep me from slashing my wrists. I'm so glad I invited them along. They were invaluable when it came to suggestions and helping me choose the right color, style and fit. I settled on a Tankini, which I'd never even considered, but thanks to one of my friends I tried several on and actually found one that didn't make me look too awful. I'll get a full length cover-up and stay in the water most of the time and I should do fine that way.
I have a suggestion for stores selling bathing suits to the over 40 crowd. Smash those damn 3-way mirrors...we can only stand looking at one side at a time! Get rid of the unflattering fluorescent lights. We don't care if we look old, wrinkled and green in the office, but when we're trying on clothes, bras or bathing suits...we'd like to have rosy lighting and not glaring 5000 watt bulbs. If you really want to obtain our business...do what a friend of mine suggested and serve us cosmos while we shop. Who knows how much we'll spend if you get us drunk enough?
My new suit is still sitting in the bag I brought it home in. I'll try it on a few more times before we sail away...just to get semi-comfortable with the way I look in it. But you can bet your ass I won't be looking in anymore 3-way mirrors!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
SLOWING DOWN
A week or so ago I ranted about the font sizes used for directions on food products, some magazine articles and books these days. Not that the font size has changed in the past 50+ years, but my eye sight sure has. I had another reminder of that last night.
After attending a meeting for The Triangle Freelancers I was driving home around 9:45 and felt as if I was "flying" down the road. I rounded a curve on Trawick Road, surprised that my tires didn't squeal, and there was a police officer sitting on the side of the road. My heart did a flip-flop, I experienced cold chills and I quickly looked down at my speedometer. I was shocked to see it read 42 mph. The speed limit was 45. WTH? I could have sworn I was going at least 60.
Driving in the dark. Yet another sign that you are aging is when you think you're going 90 and your only clocking 40 or 50. When I was in my 20's and even 30's the only time I felt I was "flying" down the road and actually wasn't was because I'd been smoking something funny. Now it happens cause I can't see very well, so I slow down, but don't feel like I've slowed down. I could see at least 200 yards in front of my car on a straight away 20 years ago and I could see a bird lose a feather a 100 yards away. Now, I'm lucky if I see the bird before it hits my windshield.
Not that I should be complaining about not moving so fast I get a ticket, but it was truly disturbing to recognize yet another sign of getting old. I guess I'll have to save all my automobile daredevil moves for the daytime, when I can see at least 25 feet in front of my car...if I squint.
After attending a meeting for The Triangle Freelancers I was driving home around 9:45 and felt as if I was "flying" down the road. I rounded a curve on Trawick Road, surprised that my tires didn't squeal, and there was a police officer sitting on the side of the road. My heart did a flip-flop, I experienced cold chills and I quickly looked down at my speedometer. I was shocked to see it read 42 mph. The speed limit was 45. WTH? I could have sworn I was going at least 60.
Driving in the dark. Yet another sign that you are aging is when you think you're going 90 and your only clocking 40 or 50. When I was in my 20's and even 30's the only time I felt I was "flying" down the road and actually wasn't was because I'd been smoking something funny. Now it happens cause I can't see very well, so I slow down, but don't feel like I've slowed down. I could see at least 200 yards in front of my car on a straight away 20 years ago and I could see a bird lose a feather a 100 yards away. Now, I'm lucky if I see the bird before it hits my windshield.
Not that I should be complaining about not moving so fast I get a ticket, but it was truly disturbing to recognize yet another sign of getting old. I guess I'll have to save all my automobile daredevil moves for the daytime, when I can see at least 25 feet in front of my car...if I squint.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
