Monday, January 14, 2013

You Want Cute - Or Comedy?

The weather is apparently having a mood. Here in Anchorage, the temps have parked themselves in the 30-40F range for the past couple weeks. In Australia, they are having a heatwave the The Vandellas didn't sing about. A Net-friend of mine was down near Detroit and felt temps near the 60's,

What is really going on?

Whatever is happening, parts of me love it and part of me is worried. The happy parts are up top: my head and heart are just thrilled. My ass? Not so much. Because this is what the ground looked like today:






Just try switching your ass to walk cute. Break a bone you never heard of.

On the other hand, looking upwards, it was prettier:


 I kept my balance and did the "cute" walk long enough to be flirted with, but the poor man walked into a door while he was checking me out. (~sigh~ I still got it!)

When I checked on an auntie in Texas yesterday, I learned out Alaska temp was a few degrees warmer than Fort Worth's. That's some tricky business.

Hope things are safe wherever you are.

Peace
--Free

Wait Til He Cuts More

Because I am missing him so much, D.J.'s parents are trying to call from different points in their cruise. The first day they were on the ship and having the Bon voyage party, there was too much noise for me to understand what the baby was trying to "say" to me. Turns out, noise wasn't the only factor. Apparently D.J. was charming every woman over the age of anything and getting spoiled for his charms.

"He's eating," his mom reported. "Every woman that sees him falls in love and wants to feed him."

I got another call really late (or really early) a couple hours ago and got to speak two words to the kid. Whenever he gets bored of the telephone, you'll hear strange noises right before his mom starts shrieking at him to "No! Stop spitting!" (His first nasty habit.)

"What's he doing?" I asked when I realized he didn't want to be on the phone with me.

"Eating."

This is ridiculous. The kid has two teeth. Two. He's eaten more food since he left a few days ago than Methuselah had during his whole life.

I warned his mom that she's letting him develop bad habits: first the spitting, now the over-eating.

"It's mostly fruit and veggies," she promised me. "And he doesn't really eat it all - he just takes it to make all the women feel better."

And we wonder why the way to a man's heart is through his stomach? I guess because we start programming them early...

Hopefully tomorrow I will hear more from D.J. himself. If he's not too busy on his food tour. Hopefully, yes, because I miss the little brat.

Peace
--Free

Laughing By Myself

You ever do something so stupid or silly or funny that you not only laugh at yourself, but have to call and tell someone else about it? Not me. Well... not often, but...

About five minutes ago, I damn near gave myself a heart attack.

Because I quit smoking (and because I am a lover of all things that smell good), my nephew bought me one of those automatic air freshener doo-dads. You know what I mean - the thing that spritzes the air every so often? Yeah. It's pretty cool. I don't have to burn through my candles every couple of weeks. I set the timer to spritz from 15 seconds to 10 minutes and - spitzzz! - I get a nice fresh shot of Vanilla Bean fragrance. It's really good if I don't forget not to stand right in front of the nozzle.

Anyway.

I climb into bed to relax a bit (notice I didn't mention sleep) and play around on the social networks, maybe listen to a little music - anything but sleep. Sleep is not something that happens much for me these days. Anyway, it's too damn hot to sleep. So... I'm lolling around, bed-dancing to random Shoutcast jazz, pretending I can sing and having a good old time. Then it happens. (Well, it happened a few minutes after I came across a picture of a snake.) I close my eyes, just to rest them for a moment. I can't get the image of that damn snake out of my mind. Pretty soon, I'm doing the little eww-shiver thing I do whenever I think of snakes. And

SPITZZZ!!!

Popping hell! I screamed and damn near fell backwards out of the bed. For a split second, I could've sworn something slithered across the foot of my bed.

My poor roommate is actually awake for a bit and up front, watching her TV shows. She came running, bless her heart. I couldn't even play this one off. I told her, then called my sister. When they stop laughing, I can inform them that they are both off my Christmas 2013 list.

If I had a case of insomnia before, I know have whatever the opposite of a coma is. I might not sleep for years.

NOTE: If I know you and find out you laughed at me about this, we're over.

Peace
--Free