Something bold is brewing..like my immaturity.

So, as I start this blog I am in unique situation.  My good friend is 'pumping' in front of me with her electric breast pump. Obviously, we are close.  I just have to say that really no one can prepare anyone for what this looks like...or sounds like.  It is just barbaric!  She looks eariley calm while she is hooked up to a contraption like a dairy cow.
I cannot stop looking.  It's like a car wreck--you can't take your eyes off the situation.  I have sympathy pain just watching...however..she doesn't look in pain.  And, this is way too much information about anybody, but we are having a discussion about her left nipple.  It used to be inverted..she called it 'Titty Retardo' as in Ricky Ricardo...only a nipple.  It always made us laugh.  However, I must say titty retardo is coming through right now as the milk champ.  Yup.  This what my life has suddenly become tonight.  Breast pumps and nipples.  Great.

Anyways, today I stopped to get a coffee in Starbucks and had some work to do before an appointment, and I had no choice but to sit next to two 12 year old boys.  I do have to say, I have a problem with anyone under the age of 20 getting their coffee at Starbucks.  I have a problem with MYSELF getting coffee there so you can imagine it kills me when I see 16 year olds stroll in for a latte before school.  Go to Dunkin' Donuts!
I don't know why it makes me hostile.
But, what I do know is that I am immature.  As I am sitting next to these boys who are drinking Frappacino's and eating cookies they see a sign for a new blend of coffee.  In big brown letters it says 'Something Bold is Brewing'.  They found this hilarious.  And the more they compared that sign to poop and laughed, I started to laugh.  Hard.  I have the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy apparently.
I think this may be a problem.

Sing for your supper, cry for your cake

Friday night my friend Kris and I went out for a quick bite.  We had a lot to catch up on and we were playing the 'you eat I'll talk then we'll switch game'.  I had a salad and Kris's food was hot so, I was up first.  Our waitress was super nice and almost overly attentive.  If you know me you know I HATE to be interrupted when I am telling a story-as was the case-and our waitress was not helping.  This is not her fault.  She doesn't know how long winded I am.  I politely told her not to worry about us we were chatting/eating/chatting and not to stress.  I know this is so annoying to waitstaff on a Friday night because they want to turn tables so I knew why she was so persistent.

Anyways, one thing lead to another and I end up crying my eyes out about something or another.  Now, don't get all worried 'Al, why were you crying'--if you know me in real life you know that I can potentially cry about ANYTHING.  A wedding, a baby, a song, a nice gesture, movies.....a particular Folger's commercial that only comes on during the holidays... You may have seen pictures of my particularly ugly crying--or you may have witnessed it.  Actually friends of mine (whom I happened to marry as a 'Justice of the Peace' for a day) just got their wedding video back...the bride and I are the same kind of criers...this is apparently an embarrassing combination from that wedding day.

Anyways, the waitress must have noticed and panicked.  The next thing we know after she took our food she comes back with a piece of CAKE.  She looks at me like ' you poor sorry soul, have some cake'.  You have to laugh when you make yourself look like such a mess that your waitress feels like she needs to bring you cake.  I bring the sexy in a night out people.
So, the lesson for today--if it's not your birthday, but you really have a hankerin' for that free slice of chocolate cake in a restaurant.  Turn on the waterworks.  And don't forget to tip your waitress!

I know who gave women a bad reputation...or poor habits.

Last evening as is always the case when I have a day off and want to watch TV, nothing was on.  So, 'How to lose a guy in 10 days' was what I put on for about half an hour.   I can't even tolerate that movie the whole way through because I think about the awkwardness that Kate Hudson's character causes and I cringe.  I cringe for women who act like that, I cringe for MYSELF for the dumb things I have done when interested in someone.  It's just a whole lotta shuddering.

However, I think I know who started this craziness.  Debbie Harry of Blondie.  With two songs she took women down.

Exhibit A.

'One way or Another'--This is a seriously creepy song when you listen to the lyrics.  'One way or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna getcha, getcha, getcha, getcha, One way or another I'm gonna win ya I'm gonna--you guessed it!- Getcha, getcha, getcha.

Now if anyone says I'm gonna 'Getcha' to me, I'm sorry, I'm running in the other direction.  

As if that weren't bad enough, she goes on to say 'I will drive past your house, and if the lights are all down I'll see whose around'.  Ok.  Deb, if the lights are all down, he's not home or he is in bed.  No one is around.  Get a hobby!

Exibit B.

'Call Me'-  If you have to say to someone ' call me on the line call me, call me, call me anytime, call me, any day or night call me' 6 TIMES in 10 seconds.  I'm thinking he is not going to call...just saying.  That is just the first chorus.  

This is how women got needy.  Thanks Debbie Harry.  'How to lose a guy in ten days' actually should have just been a montage of Blondie songs.  Go ahead.  Try it out on your next bad date- start quoting either of those songs.  I guarantee that he will never call you again.

The nightmare before Easter

Two years ago I was asked by a place I used to work for if I would dress up as the Easter Bunny for Easter Brunch.  It sounded like easy money and I thought it would be fun!
Even better I thought, I will borrow the costume ahead of time and Easter morning I will show up at the houses of my friends with kids and surprise them.  To clarify, if I showed up at my friend's houses without kids, it would be creepy.
This bunny costume is like most fake bunny costumes, more frightening than anything else.  Also, it's hot as hell.  To paint a picture you really can't see out the eye holes, and there is latex on the inside of the mask so you feel your own hot breath on your face and sound like Darth Vadar.

This year, I had other obligations but, was able to get the costume the night before to do my bunny drive by's.  I stopped at my friend Connie's house and her kids-and cat for that matter- were so excited to see the Easter Bunny.  They showed me what they were coloring and were beside themselves.
Next I drove to Jen and Kevin's.  I parked down a little side street, got out of my car and started suiting up. Of course as I'm half in the bunny suit some guy has to ask for directions, and is seriously interested in my outfit.  Sorry dude, I'm just the Easter Bunny.
Now, Jen's parents were also there.   The whole family was outside by their swing set.
Jen and her family find me funny. Especially when dressed head to toe like Peter Cottontail, and when I do my 'hop' that I reserve for them because it makes Jen wet her pants a little.
Their oldest daughter loved it.  My God-daughter however had a different opinion on the Easter Bunny...Can you tell the two apart?

I always try to do my best to make my God-daughter happy!  Also, for the record, I hop down the street even after I am out of their site when cars of strangers go by.  It's a big responsibility wearing that costume--if I took my head off I could ruin Easter for some poor kid!  Oh...wait...looks like I already did!

That one time when I was a black woman..

I don't know why I have to talk so much about this car singing.  But, I think it is important to really paint a picture of what happens when I am singing in the car.
Getting caught singing 'buh buh buh Bennie and the Jettssss' for me personally, isn't on par with say..picking your nose in the car.  Which, spending so much time in my car for work, I must say is reaching pandemic proportions.
What is it about sitting in your car that lets all your inhibitions go?  It's a box of rolling glass, but we all feel like no one can see us, or that we are invincible.
Of course if I have ever been a passenger in your car you know that I am hyper aware of my own mortality.  As in back seat driver.  Shutting my eyes and telling you to look out.  This is why it is usually best that I drive.  If you have driven with me you know that I obey the speed limit so much, that my little car no longer actually goes more than 10 mile over the speed limit.  She knows how I feel.
Someone asked me today what I was serenading my fellow commuters with this morning and although some of my choices in music are 'poor choices' by some.  I'll admit Britney comes out when the mood strikes, Janet, Madonna, Gaga.  They are all in there.  This morning a song that a good friend introduced me to by the O'Jay's called 'Back Stabbers' was on repeat a couple of times.  If you have never heard this song...I'm sorry it is a must.  It is old school, motown fabulocity.
However, most of the time in my car I am a big black woman.  I said it. In reality, I am a tall slim-ish white girl.  I mean, if you don't know me I am WHITE.  As white as they come.  Irish/Swedish, alabaster, see through, casper your friendly ghost white.
However, my mom told me that I am 'black Irish', and in my car I am a proud black woman..I'm going to run with that.
A lot of the time I am not just Alicia Keys but, I am Patty Labelle, Aretha Franklin, Dusty Springfield, Etta James.  And I am in FULL CONCERT. By this I don't just mean loud singing, I am in full performance mode.  Maybe I am missing my performance roots.  I miss performing in shows, I miss fronting a band. My car is now my stage.  The highways of Mass are my audience.  In the safety of my car I can try and hit those notes that would NEVER come out at karaoke my friends.  I am invincible.  And the crowd loves me.  Usually a standing O.  I have multiple performances throughout the day- 7am, 6pm and usually a matinee or two.  Get your tickets in advance.  I sell out.

Random thoughts of happiness.

I couldn't even blog for the past 2 weeks.  I was THAT sick.  Like I said, or if I didn't say it to you I'll say it again, don't brag about not being sick for  a year and a half.  That's when it gets you.  After the stomach bug, a cold that turned into bronchitis.

I managed on numerous occasions to alienate my co-workers.  The first time was in a meeting when I did the new 'right thing' and coughed into my arm.  I coughed phlegm right on my bicep.  There is no graceful way to get rid of this.  I just reached into my purse and cleaned myself up.  Then, in the middle of a group meeting I started a cough that you just don't come back from, so I left the room.  We work in a building with many other companies.  It was about 8:30 so everyone was coming into work as I triggered my own gag reflex and ran hacking to the bathroom as people ducked and stared like I had SARS.  It was so awesome.
I finally had to leave because I couldn't stop coughing  in my cube and my coworker was like 'REALLY??? I love YOU but, I don't love your cough'.  I didn't blame her.  It was all around nastiness.

BUT, today is a new day!  It's April, and it was a beautiful 89 degrees in Boston today.  I couldn't decide as I drove to my appointments if it was windows up with AC so I could sing, or windows down kinda day....
You know what I did.  Windows down and sang at the top of my lungs.
I got caught in Southie singing 'Bennie and the Jet's' at a stop light--and I didn't even care.
I also didn't care that I was at that stoplight and I watched this mom push the cross walk button in an OCD like fashion (because we all know that makes the light change faster) and then cross before it even changed.  I didn't care, because the guy next to me was DIGGING my Elton John impersonation.

I really brought it home on 93 South at 8:30.  I had just had my hair cut, my new hair dresser rocks and I was in love with life.  I'm talking Empire State of Mind/Alicia Keys in love with life.  Add to that my impending trip to the big apple and I was out of control.  I was singing like everyone sitting in traffic payed MONEY to hear me.  Lucky for them, I can actually carry a tune...but, it's still probably not the highlight of their night.  But, I just didn't care.  I was in THAT GOOD of a MOOD.
That is nice to say.  Good mood.  Singing in cars.  Good haircuts.  Yummy chili waiting for me when I got home..
And the cats.  Oh. Yeah.  There must be a cat in heat in my neighborhood because every night around 9 about 7 cats come to our complex and howl.  It sounds like a PERSON outside.  A person saying 'HELLLOOO', 'HELLOOO'...it doesn't sound fun.  You know what else doesn't sound fun?  Cat sex.  Did you know that male cats have SPIKES on their business???  As in the lady cat isn't going anywhere once he seals the deal.
Tonight, I am happy to not be a cat.