Reality Check-mate

conversation heard over coffee while reading the Sunday paper between the sheets this morning:

him: "...you know, it's like that Bob Newhart drinking game - 'Hi Bob' - where you take a drink everytime someone says 'Hi Bob'."

me: "oh, you mean The Cheers game where everyone takes a drink when they yell "NORM!" ."
him: "nooo, i mean Newhart."


me: "i forgot you're old - of course you watched Newhart during the first run, where as I watched it on Nick at Night"


him: "look, you picked me."
me, spitting out my latte on the Sunday crossword puzzle: "what???"

him: "you did."
me: "let me remind you how it REALLY went down. You called me at work and i think the conversation went like this: 'hey, how are you? what's going on?" and i said something like.."who IS this?" and you said "...uhm...V...you know, you really know how to keep a guy's ego in check."


him: "Yeah, but that was all fake. You were pretending not to know me. You were playing hard to get."
me: "oh...so was i playing hard to get when you booked a hotel room and drove 2 hrs to take me out and i didnt' even remember we had a date so you had to drive 2hrs back home?"


him: "shut up."

Since the islands won't come to me...

I will go to them. Ok, not really. I will go and listen to someone sing about them.

So, please excuse the short post because i'm slipping into pre-concert mode. The music's playing, the drinks are in the blender and the sitter's here. Just need to get myself in the right frame of mind....

Get jealous now because in about 3 hours yours truly will be a few rows back from....



Jealous? I thought so. He is soooooooooooo....perfect.

Darwinism Realized.

If you really want to see stupid in action - you should really make it a point to visit Florida during our hurricane season. We are truly, as the adage goes, the shallow end of the country's gene pool.

Every year, countless idiots try and out-stupid each other as soon as the barometric pressure drops. Case in point. During Hurricane Charlie, someone moved their gas-powered generator into their home, and promptly committed suicide.

It's the beginning of the season and we already have a "special kind of stupid" award to the young man who thought it would be the perfect time to Kite Surf.

Sir, at what point did it dawn on you that Mother Nature was not playing around? When she grabbed you in that gale and lifted you 3 stories above the ground, or when she was face-planting you into the parking lot of the hotel...or was it when she had had enough of your stupidness and threw you into the hotel itself?

You are a fucking idiot.

This post brought to you by Kotex

Well, it actually IS that time of the month, however...this post is NOT about Aunt Flo. Or her perfectly timed visit that coincided with Aunt Fay - the pissed off diva of tropical weather that just made my property waterfront and thought my neighbor needed to mix up the woods in her living room furniture and kindly introduced OAK - as in TREE, trunk and all, into the mix.

NOPE. This is about what happens when you let your children name their pets.

2 weeks ago we adopted 2 kittens. However, my boys were at their dad's (my ex-husband) the week we got to bring them home (yes, the man i live with is not their dad - more on that later, let's just say i got wiser as i got older).

Because i wanted to let THEM name them - i just called them whatever was top of mind when i was looking at them - at one point i think i was calling the girl "GODDAM IT, MOVE ALREADY BEFORE I SQUASH YOU." and i think the boy was "LOOK YOU- poo goes IN the litterbox".

Anyway, the boys eventually came home and promptly named them.

Thing 1: "I want to call mine Mini because she's so little".

Thing 2: "I want to call mine Max".

Seriously. The Kotex Kittens. How nice. For your not so fresh litterbox days.

Me: "Boys, i think we should sleep on this - let's try out lots of names before we settle on it."

Them: "No - we've got it - this is perfect."

And all i have to say is...of course it is. Because this is what happens in my house. ALL THE TIME.

Meet Maxi and Mini. Ok, so T2 named him Max, not Maxi...but after reading about my family so far, what do you think he's being called?

Cowabunga, duuuuuude!..or what i learned on my summer vacation.

I have the coolest. kids. evuh. Look at this stud - out there rockin' the wave, fully intent on riding it all the way in. He's 7. SEVEN.

When I asked Thing 1 and 2 what they wanted to do this summer, Thing 2 wasted NO time in pitching the surf camp idea, while Thing 1, who I swear is 18 not 8 - said "sleep...alot". Well, where one of us goes, we all go. Sorry T1 - you drew the short end of the stick. Stop whining - get excited - it's THE BEACH FOR CRYIN OUT LOUD - who doesn't want to be at the beach?? I think he kind of snorted at me and went back to watching Jonas brothers or something else equally as stimulating on the stupid tube.

So, here is how I envisioned the week going. I would sleep until 8:15 or so, get up, have my coffee, feed the Things, and get them to surf camp by 9am. By 9:15 - THE PARENTS WERE HOME FREE. We would have a second cup of coffee, move to the beach chairs with our crosswords and our books. Take a mid-day siesta. Be sipping something frozen with an umbrella in it by 2pm. Be in margaritaville by the time the kids returned at 4pm and talk about all the FUN WE WERE HAVING over dinner. SLEEP. REPEAT.

I'm one naive MUTHA.

Here is how the week actually went. Got up at 8:15 (so far so good, right???) Made coffee. Coffee pot in condo circa 1980 = S....L.....O.....W.....DRIP. While i wait, i wake the boys.

Thing 1: "I'M NOT GOING. I TOLD YOU I DON'T WANT TO GO. I WANT TO STAY HERE. WITH YOU. THIS WAS WHAT HE (pointing to T2 snoring on bed) WANTED TO DO. NOT ME....slowly melting down...WE ALWAYS DO WHAT HE WANTS TO DO, I NEVER GET TO DO WHAT I WANT TO DO. IT'S NOT FAIR!!!!"

This is me, ignoring him. He'll see his brother dressed for the beach and be jealous and change his mind, I think. IGNORE. DON'T LOOK. PROCEED WITH PLAN.

Me: "Thing 2, get up. Camp starts in 30 minutes!"

Thing 2 gets up and gets dressed, and i feel just a tad of relief that he appears EXCITED. OK, so we're almost on track - deep breath. For all of 2 seconds.

Vinnie (otherwise known as that man i live with): "He's not wearing THAT right?"

What is the problem - it's swim trunks - last time i checked that is what MOST normal people are wearing TO SWIM, IN WATER, AT THE BEACH.

Me: "Sorry?? What are you talking about - it's fine."

Vinnie: "Uhm, yeah, if he was in playing in the kiddie pool - IT'S SURF CAMP - he needs board shorts. He can't look like a dork - run him by the surf shop on your way to camp."

OK, first of all, he does NOT look like a dork. He looks fine. Secondly, it's 8:30 in the morning, what surf shop (run by old surfers...that sleep in....helloooo, didn't you watch Fast Times at Ridgemont High..Spicoli was NEVER AWAKE BEFORE NOON.) opens before 10am? Third, I NEED MY COFFEE BEFORE I CAN EVEN BEGIN TO GET FURTHER INTO THIS CONVERSATION.

30 minutes later and $45 dollars poorer I am now fully aware that Cocoa Beach has the only 24 hour surf shop in the world. Convienently located across the street from a 24 hr Starbucks. Please tell me what happened to the 60's, weed and waves? One surfer with an alarm clock and a business plan. Perfect.

T2: "Who's your counselor mom?"
Me: "Huh?"
T2: "Who's teaching you - I've got Kyle"
Me: "'YOU'RE surfing, mommy's relaxing - but i'll be watching Pumpkin - just go out there and knock 'em dead."
T2, eyes starting to well up: "Mom, you said we were all going to do it"

Noooo, I said we were all going...and here we all are....this is going to be fun.....why isn't this fun already????

Me: "Babe, do you really need Mommy, you're going to have a blast - really - it's looks like fun!"
T2: "BUT YOU SAID YOU WOULD DO IT. PUHLEEEEEEEEZE MOMMY, SURF WITH ME".
Me: "Honey, this is really for kids, not parents. Let's walk up to the table and get you registered."

Enter Brian, the surf camp owner.

Brian: "So, what gives Mom, are you surfing with us or not? We teach everybody."

And that is how I ended up learning to surf at 39 years old.

If you're wondering how i did, let me be honest. IT WAS A FREAKIN' BLAST. I got up, I fell down and sometimes I even caught a wave and popped up like they told me to. Oh, and the surf instructor eye candy wasn't bad either. If you really want a great summer experience - go see these guys - they ABSOLUTELY FREAKIN ROCK. The classes were small, very hands on, and every kid gets personalized attention. http://www.nexgensurf.com/

And yeah, i'm going to do it again too.

Swingtown has nothing on Maitland!

Yeah, i thought that would get your attention (smirk).
bow chicka wow wow.

Okay, so I have my house for sale. DON'T EVEN BOTHER EMAILING ME TO LET ME KNOW THAT NOW IS NOT A GOOD TIME TO SELL. Shuh....i know that already. But if you've known me for even 10 minutes OR have had the opportunity to ever speak to my mother, you should know by now that "I have a mind of my own" or in my mother's words "You KNOW how she IS."

Back to the good stuff.

I'm out walking Otis when Sam, the guy that lives 2 doors down from me, calls me over. Now, this in itself is not unusual. Sam's a little weird to most people. Not to me - I totally get that he only speaks to certain people - and noooo, I don't find it odd that I'm one of those few people - i have always been in the "in" crowd. Stop laughing - i know he talks to himself for crying out loud but i've got to get my gossip from somewhere and he KNOWS EVERYTHING THAT'S GOING ON ON MY STREET. so there.

Anyway. He calls me over and says to me "Hey, while you were on vacation, I think I found someone that wants to buy your house."

this is great news. this could be the fastest sale EVER. SO THERE MOM - STICK IT IN YOUR EAR - I'VE GOT A BUYER nana-nana-na-na....so he's not a realtor, per se, he.just.knows.people.that.know.people.

"Really?? Did they show the house to them when I was at the beach? Who is it?"

Sam starts to stand up a little straighter, and gets all serious.

"It's this woman that I know. She lives in Apopka right now, but her mom lives over in the Hills. (that's Dommerich Hills for my online friends, not the "Hills" like Beverly, swimming pools, movie stars....i've got to stop cracking myself up or this story will never get told...sorry) and she wants to be over here to be closer to take care of her mom. Her maiden name is Lovelace, Linda Lovelace."

uhm...i'm sorry, say that again..

"Sam, did you say Linda Lovelace -- as in DEEP THROAT??!?"

"Yeah, that's her - ya know her?"

And that my friends is why it's a good idea that i'm moving. I'm surrounded by crazy. (And just in case you were wondering - Linda Lovelace does NOT live in Apopka, so don't be getting all excited thinking if you google her she's gonna pop up on myspace and invite you to be her friend. SHE DIED IN 2002. RIP Linda, I hope you got that throat thing finally fixed.)

It's due WHEN??

Time:9:45 pm. Place: My bathroom. Scene: My own little piece of heaven on earth. Bubble bath, lit candles, my latest guilty indulgence from Barnes & Noble and a glass of chilled chardonnay in my hand........aaaahhhhh..............AAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGHHH!



Me, pulling bubbles up to cover the girls: "HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE...AND WHY ARE YOU AWAKE AND OUT OF BED ANYWAY?!"



Thing 1, standing in PJs and barefeet, a little scared of finding me naked, holding that little key I use to get him and his brother out of the bathroom: "I forgot to tell you something."



Me, fully aware that the nighttime stalling routine is now kicking into gear for the evening: "Whatever it is can wait until you get up in the morning - march your bottom back to bed."



Thing 1, stalling: "I don't think it can wait 'til then. It's pretty important."



Me, growing ever so agitated that my wine is warming to room temp: "Trust me, nothing is so important that it can't wait until breakfast - scoot."



Thing 1: "...yeah, but my teacher is going to be mad at me."



Now he's got my attention.



Me: "T1....what were you supposed to tell me???"



Thing 1: "I was supposed to bring in a poster of things in groups of 5, 10 and 25 for math class tomorrow."



Me: "AND WHEN DID SHE GIVE YOU THIS ASSIGNMENT?"



Thing 1: "I don't remember, it was on that project paper i gave you on Monday"



It's now Thursday. I vaguely remember that paper, i used it to mop up milk on the dinner table. crap. bad mom. WAIT A MINUTE....it's HIS project. He's not off the hook here. He's 8, he knows it's up to him to get his stuff ready for school. He's only 8....my baby, he's scared of what's going to happen when he shows up at school without his project. I should have looked at the paper. I SHOULD HAVE PUT THE DAMN PAPER ON THE FRIDGE LIKE ALL THE OTHER GOOD MOMS....



Thing 1: "...mom...did you hear me??"



Me, now halfway out of the tub and scrambling to become somewhat covered up: "huh?...YES I HEARD YOU. You know what this means, it means i have to now go to Walmart at 10 at night and get poster board. YOU'RE IN BIG TROUBLE MISTER. You are now going to get up EARLY AND DO THIS PROJECT BEFORE SCHOOL- DO YOU HEAR ME - NO WHINING WHEN I WAKE YOU UP."



Thing 1:"Ok, but you have to get beans and rice and stuff too."



WTH - he's not in home-ec, he's in 2nd grade - BEANS AND RICE?



Thing 1: "You know, the hard ones, and some macaroni too, that kind of stuff that's easy to glue to the poster board."



What is it with damn teachers that think i have a pantry stockpiled with dry goods. Staples my ass, the only staples i stock up are those that come in handy during hurricane season. We live in the burbs in Florida people, not Iowa. I stock the important stuff. Canned goods. Paper plates. Bottled Water. Vodka.



Next morning, hustling kids into car, taking every precaution to not bend the damn posterboard that we ended up fighting over at 6am.



Thing 1: "huh."



Me: "What, did forget your backpack?..what now?"



Thing 1: "i found yesterday's homework list, the math board isn't due until NEXT Friday."



Me: grrrrrrrrrrrrrr....