The Happy Lesbian Housewife

Memories

2011-08-07T09:52:00.000-07:00

It is almost time for a short vacation. I was glancing through vacation magazines when Sweetie strolled by and said, "Remember last year? Wasn't it just wonderful? We must start to plan for this years time away."
It is August. We won't go until at least November. I started to rememer all of the planning that had gone into last years visit to P-Town and the tears started to flow. I started to shake and a tic developed in my right eye. The memories continued to flow...

"MEMORIES"

The decision had been made - Sweetie and I were going to P’Town (Provincetown, MA) for our vacation this year. We will be going for Women’s Week (October 8 – 18, 2010). How cool is that? I’ve never been there, but Sweetie has, one time, the first year we started dating. We had been trying to decide between Europe and P’Town for a few months with Sweetie leaning toward Europe and I, of course, leaning the other way. This is quite normal for us - we tend to lean in different directions - but, we discussed it; we worked it out; we made the decision as a couple. How exciting! After months of back and forth, I was just thrilledthat we’d made a decision. I thought we were done at that point. Finished. Complete. You see, I am a true Pisces. I am a bit wishy-washy, a dreamer, I fly by the seat of my pants. I am romantic, somewhat unrealistic, and a bit impractical. I thought if we had made the decision, we were through. However, even though Sweetie is a Pisces as well, someone forgot to tell her this. She is very much a practical person. She is incredibly realistic, tremendously black-and-white in her way of looking at things, and she plans everything right down to the minute level of detail. There is nothing wishy-washy about her at all. She is the "Anti-Pisces"!

"LIKE THE CORNERS OF MY MIND"

Once we’d decided on a destination she told me that now it was time to decide where to stay, what to drive when we get there, when to fly out, what side trips to take, the entertainment schedule, and everything else. We had to do this NOW? Six and a half months before the actual vacation? Twenty-seven and a half weeks? Approximately 205 days? Right at 4,920 hours? Holy cow! We gotta do it right this minute? This very second? Right NOW? We have just a wee bit of time left before we actually leave.

“The first thing that we need to do is make a list of what we want in an inn/hotel/bed-andbreakfast,”
she said.

“Oh, dear lord,” I thought. “Another list.” But I said aloud, “Oh, good idea, honey. You go upstairs to the office and work on your list and I’ll hang out down here and work on my list and then when we are both finished, we will come back together and merge the two and have the perfect room! Sound good?”

“I am glad to see that you are taking this so seriously,” she said happily, if a bit incredulously. “Sounds like a plan.”

So off she went upstairs. I could hear her working right away.

"MISTY WATER COLORED MEMORIES OF THE WAY WE WERE"

I got my yellow legal pad (I have a thing for yellow legal pads) and my mechanical pencils. I sat down on the couch, turned on the TV, and proceeded to get lost in a rerun of The Breakfast Club. The Breakfast Club is one of my all-time favorite movies. I think it is quite possiblythe best movie EVER. Molly Ringwald rocks. For the next hour-and-a-half, I was absorbed in the angst that I had felt as a teen. I also polished my fingernails and toenails, but then decided that I was too old for the bright green that I had used and redid them using purple. It was the perfect color, so I used it on the dogs as well. I did use this time to think of all of my wants and needs for the inn/hotel/bed-and-breakfast too. See, I remembered what I was supposed to be doing - most of the time. I wrote a few things down, then scratched a couple out. Wrote down a couple
more - and then decided to bake cupcakes. Next I decided to change purses. The gray one is starting to go out of season and I’d just bought this really cute white one with a big heart/flower on it. It is sooooo adorable. I noticed the cupcakes were finished baking, so I got them out, frosted them, and thought some more about what I am looking for in a room for vacation. I figured that if I took a cupcake up to Sweetie and peeked over her shoulder I might get some ideas off of her paper. No such luck. She grabbed that cupcake,
accused me of cheating, slapped me on the butt, and kicked me out of the office.

“Hrrrummmppphh!”

'SCATTERED PICTURES OF THE SMILES WE LEFT BEHIND"

Back downstairs I went, pouting a bit. I saw a copy of People magazine lying on the dining table and thought that maybe it would have some ideas for vacation rooms in it, or at least some juicy gossip. That sounded good to me, so I read it. Wow, there was some really juicy gossip this week. Not so much on the vacation front though. Finally, after about four hours, Sweetie calleddown that she was finished. I told her that I was too, and that we could now “merge.”

She told me to bring my stuff up to the office. I grabbed my yellow legal pad and my pencils and headed up there.

"SMILES WE GAVE TO ONE ANOTHER FOR THE WAY WE WERE"

Oh. My. God.

I walked in and she had put together a complete Power-Point presentation ready for my perusal. I pulled my legal pad to my chest tightly and watched as she started to go through everything that was important to her in
picture format. Deck or balcony. Close to town. Right off of Commercial St/ or within walking distance.

"CAN IT BE THAT IT WAS OH SO SIMPLE THEN?"

Queen or king-sized bed with at least 800 thread count sheets. Flat-screen TV/DVD. Fireplace. Private bath. Parking. 4+ stars

"OR HAS TIME REWRITTEN EVERY LINE?"

Must be soundproof so that others can’t hear us (Or rather me. What can I say about that one? I get loud sometimes, okay?). Refrigerator. Air conditioner. Water view. Down feather pillows and comforter. Terrycloth robes. Sofa (does not have to be brown leather,thank God). High tea served.

I totally faded out here … not sure what else followed.…

Blah, blah, blah….

"IF WE HAD THE CHANCE TO DO IT ALL AGAIN, TELL ME WOULD WE? COULD WE?

After Sweetie’s presentation finished, she lookedat me with pride in her eyes and asked, “Where is your list, honey, so that I can merge the two and we can actually take a look at the perfect place to stay on our ideal vacation.”

I looked at her,smiled a tiny smile, tore off a single sheet from my yellow legal pad, and handed the page to her. She looked down at it and began to systematically tear her hair out of her head. “This is it?” she asked. “This is ALL you want?”

I looked at my paper.It read, “Bathtub.”

“Yep, that about does it,” I replied enthusiastically. "You know I love me a good, hot bath.”

"MEMORIES, MAY BE BEAUTIFUL AND YET WHAT'S TOO PAINFUL TO REMEMBER WE SIMPLY CHOOSE TO FORGET"

She let out a primal yell and jumped from the office window. It took me almost an hour to find her and another thirty minutes to pry her hands from around a tree in the neighbor’s yard. She will be okay though. I am quite sure of it. After all, Pisces are quite resilient. Even the Anti-Pisces.

I sure hope I get my bathtub.

"SO IT'S THE LAUGHTER WE WILL REMEMBER, WHENEVER WE REMEMBER THE WAY WE WERE..."

As I came back into the present the tic in my right eye intensified, my head started twitching, my left leg jiggled quickly up and down, tears started to flow. Then it hit me. How I could get out of all this planning and such. I jumped up and ran to Sweetie. I looked her straight in the eye and said, "Honey, instead of wasting all that money this year, why do we just re-do the bathroom. The old 50's pink and green is hideous. We could have a new white toilet. A new dark vanity with white sink...woohooo we can even paint!"

That did it. I saw a smile start to spread across Sweeties face. She could never turn down a good home improvement project!

"Yes, that does make more fiscal sense. I see your point and reasoning. We shall remodel," she yelled while pumping her fist in the air like Judd Nelson's character in The Breakfast Club.

Hey, maybe we can watch Judd Nelson and Molly Ringwald while installing my NEW tub. I am sure Sweetie would love that. Dang, I'm good.!

"...THEY WAY WE WERE....."

The Big Ole Piss Poor Pity Party

2010-12-07T09:20:00.000-08:00

I should apologize for dropping out of sight for a while. Quite simply put, I have been having a pity party. Yup, a big ole "Woe is me", thumb-sucking, "what did I ever do" pity party! Guess what, it got me nowhere!

I do realize that this year has been a tough one for so many and I am no different. I have spent much time thinking about it lately though. Allowing it to fester and grow and eat at the very core of myself. Since March, my granddaughter was diagnosed with a blood disorder, my daughter lost her unborn baby, I was hospitalized with near kidney failure, my youngest son has had a facial cyst that fills with infection and turns him into the creature from the black lagoon at least twice. It must be surgically removed from his jaw/face soon before it gets very serious. I got walking pneumonia TWICE and have passed kidney stones multiple times. We just had to put our beloved Shepherd down due to illness 2 weeks before Thanksgiving and I had a car wreck a few days after that...I'm ok, they ran, my car needed $1000 bucks of work/tires and that sucks. Then just a few days ago my dear sweet cousin who is 36 and a single army dad was just diagnosed with Lymphoma which has spread pretty much everywhere, wah, wah, wah!

I was feeling pretty sorry for myself! How much worse could this get? What had I done for all of this to poor out on me. Why me....gloom...woe...adversity...a really big old PISS POOR PITY PARTY! I was basically walking around the house singing the ole "Hee-Haw" ditty:

"Gloom, despair, and agony on me
Deep, dark depression, excessive misery
If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all
Gloom, despair, and agony on me"

Then, this weekend, while talking to the cousin who has been diagnosed with cancer, he said to me, 'Well, cuz, it could be worse. My feet are healthy. No cancer there! " I kind of sat back and thought a second and since we had been talking for about 2 hours, I replied, "And, your tongue seems to work ok too. That is a good thing!" Then we laughed. Hard! Really, really, hard. It was wonderful. His words and humor made me realize that it was time to put on my big girl panties and get back to knowing that tomorrow would be better and the next day would be even more so! None of this is funny per se, but there is still humor there if you look deeply enough. I also realized that it is not about me. It is about the lessons we learn and how we learn to apply them day to day.

I am telling you this not for pity, but to let you know that sometimes life gives us shit and it is up to us to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and shovel our way out of it. We may stink and be a bit tired when we get finished but we will know that we are stronger and that there is love and laughter under the pile.

Moral of the story: Get the shit out of your way and get ready for 2011 folks...it's gonna be a doozy!

Have You Seen My Mommies?....When the Son Came to Visit Pt 3

2010-07-27T17:36:00.000-07:00

Buddy is an actor and he loves nothing more than to use his improv ability to embarrass folks, draw unwanted attention to those he loves or simply to make people laugh. I am used to it. Sweetie, however, is not. I am pretty loud and outgoing myself. Again, Sweetie is not. Buddy decided to use his abilities to initiate Sweetie into the family. It was her turn after all. She deserved it after the flower incident.

While still shopping at Whole Foods, Sweetie and I headed back to the meat section to look at their filets. We did not notice that Buddy had drifted away from us. I was still muttering about stabbing them both through the necks with the stems of a bouquet of lovely hydrangeas and Sweetie was chuckling under her breath at me.

“Do you want to get a couple of filets for the grill tonight”, I asked testily.
“That sound like a good idea. Shall I grab some flowers to put on the table so that it makes Buddy’s last night here special”, she said with a snigger.

“I will kill you right here. I promise I will. I will step right over your lifeless body with a smile if you do not leave me alone about those flowers. Should we do kabobs or just steaks and potatoes”, I responded.

“Whatever you want babe. If the hydrangeas are a problem, I could just get a mixed bouquet“, she said.

I grabbed the filets from the butchers hand and stormed off toward the front of the store. Sweetie followed me snorting under her breath. I then heard a loud Irish sounding voice from somewhere off to the side of me. I knew that voice. I knew that my son had decided to become one of his alter-egos. Sweetie did not seem to hear him.

“I can’t find my mommies”, I heard him say loudly. “Can someone please help me.”

I smiled wickedly. I had “been here, done this” many times. Sweetie had not.

“Please help me”, he continued in his best Irish accent. “I am so scared. Me mommies just disappeared. A boy's best friend is his mother don’t ya know.”
He was getting louder with each sentence. Sweetie looked at me with trepidation in her eyes. “Is that Buddy”, she asked.

“Why yes, I do believe it is”, I answered gaily.

“What is he doing”, she inquired.

“Well, I do believe he is looking for us dear”, I told her.

“Mommies” he shrieked. “Please don’t leave me again. I will be good. I promise!”

“OH. MY. GOD”, Sweetie growled. “What the hell…”

“I didn’t mean to set the cat on fire again. It was an accident. It will never happen again. Where are you.” Buddy was building in intensity. The accent becoming thicker. The voice becoming louder and more frightened.

“Why is he doing that”, Sweetie whispered.

“ For shits and giggles”, I answered with a wicked grin on my face.

“Make him stop. Please”, Sweetie begged. He was getting closer and closer to us and poor Sweetie looked panic-stricken. People were beginning to look around for the moms that belonged to the 6 foot tall, 20 year old Irish redhead who was quite obviously a bit crazy.

I caught sight of him as he made his way over to an older lady. He grabbed her arm and began to sob. “Can you please help me find my mommies? There are two of them. They should be easy to spot. One is tall and blonde and the other is a bit shorter with darker hair. I was a bad boy and they left me but I know they are still here. Oh, please help me find them.”

The lady looked around as if she were being punked. When she saw no camera, she turned tail and ran. I laughed. Buddy grinned mischievously. Sweetie grabbed her heart and kneeled down as if to hide. People had spotted us. We were the only lesbian couple in Whole Foods at that time.

Buddy threw himself at the knees of a harried looking mother of two with a full cart. “Oh, thank God, you are a mommy too. Help me lady. I lost me mommies. Have ya seen them?”

The poor woman barely blinked. She looked as if her children had put her through something like this before. “Hello”, she yelped to no one in particular. “Who does this poor boy belong to?” She then noticed Sweetie scrambling to get away. ‘You! Hey, you, over there crawling down aisle 4. I see you. Is this your boy?”

Sweetie turned green. I got in on the fun. “Sweetie, he found us. Stand up. You can’t get away. He is ours after all and we need to show him love even when he has his little episodes. The cat was just singed after all. It could have happened to anyone.”

Sweetie stood up with a look of total embarrassment on her face. I smiled sweetly as I reached for her hand. Buddy ran to us and grabbed us in a big ole’ bear hug.

“Mommies, I am so glad I found you. I love you both. Kiss me, I‘m Irish,” he hollered, still in full character.

I reached up to kiss his cheek. Sweetie pulled away and ran for the car, leaving me to pay for the groceries. Buddy ran after her.

“Mom, come back. Please don’t leave me again. Come baaacccckkkk….”, I heard as he ran to catch up with Sweetie.
As I waited in line, I reflected over what had just happened and realized that life is good! I smiled ruthlessly. Life is very, very good!

What A Pair THEY Make....When the Son Came to Visit Pt 2

2010-07-20T10:35:00.000-07:00

While my youngest son, “Buddy”, was visiting Sweetie and I, he enjoyed being with us and learning all the ins and outs of a lesbian relationship. He is an actor and a graduate from film school so he looks at everything as a learning experience to be drawn on for any character that he may need to call on in the future. He is also a very funny and entertaining boy, at least in his own mind.

We all went shopping together one afternoon. Our little trio walked into Whole Foods laughing and joking and just being together. It was great. It felt like family. It was family. The first thing that I noticed as we walked into the store was the cut flowers. They were simply lovely. I commented on their beauty. Buddy and Sweetie were busy chatting and pretty much ignored me. I commented again a bit more loudly.

“Look at the cut hydrangeas. Aren’t they beautiful”, I said.

Laughter from the pair in front of me.

“Ummm…Hmmm…excuse me. Is anyone listening to me? Look at those tulips. Simply stunning. Sweetie, you used to buy flowers like these for me. Hellooooo”, I continued.

“Oh, umm, yeah. Uh~huh, nice”, Sweetie muttered.

They both laughed again. Nice. They were ganging up on me. Fine, I could work with that. He would turn on Sweetie soon. I could wait. We continued on through the store. I was looking at tomato’s and fruits and thinking about what to have for dinner when I saw Buddy begin to juggle grapefruits. Did I mention that he is a very talented boy?

“Buddy, put those grapefruits down now”, I said.
Sweetie looked around to see who else might be looking. All was clear so she was fine with the juggling. “But those are some good looking grapefruits. They are just ripe for juggling”, she said.

“However, they are not as good looking as those flowers that were in the front of the store. Man, those were some gorgeous flowers. Did you see them Momma”, Buddy chimed in. He is a very funny boy. Did I say that before?

“There were flowers in the front of the store? Did you see them Babe? Do you want some? Fresh flowers, especially cut hydrangeas, would look good in the dining room”, Sweetie said.

Buddy and Sweetie burst out laughing. Great. They were working together. What a pair they make.

“No, I do not want any stinking flowers. Ya’ll behave. Buddy, I said to drop those grapefruits now”, I growled as he added 2 more grapefruits to his rotation.

SPLAT! Several grapefruits hit the floor. One rolled under the produce container. Wonderful.

“Oops, that slipped”, Buddy said as he picked up the salvageable fruit. “Can’t get that one. They’ll find it when it starts to stink though so it’s all good.”

“Buddy…”, I started.

“You told him to drop them and he did what you said. You can't be mad at that”, Sweetie said smartly

Buddy had turned his attention to a display of Arizona Ice Tea. He grabbed up a can and began a commercial in his deepest, loudest southern drawl.

“This Arizona Ice Tea brand commonly found in the South is essential to have for true iced tea lovers. This real brewed southern style sweet tea taste captures the spirit of gen-u-ine sweet tea. It's now available in tall boy cans. Just pop the top! Plenty of artificial flavors, artificial colors and preservatives and it only cost $1.00. Step right up folks and grab yours right here”, he intoned.

People were starting to gather. Sweetie dropped her head and disappeared. I just rolled my eyes.

“If you buy 3 cans you will also get a free bunch of fresh cut hydrangeas to brighten up your home. Come on now, don’t be shy”, Buddy continued.

“Buddy, shut up about those hy….”, I began.

“You mean these hydrangeas”, Sweetie ran up, holding high a bunch of the flowers that she had grabbed from the display. “Honey, do you want to get the tea so that we can have hydrangeas to brighten our home”, she asked with an evil glimmer in her eye.

"I hate you both”, I declared. “I am going to stab you in the neck with the stems of those damned flowers.”

“Mom, what do you have against hydrangeas”, Buddy said. “What did they ever do to you?”

“Would you prefer tulips”, Sweetie asked sweetly, whipping out a bouquet from behind her back. “These are quite lovely. I can’t believe that you didn’t notice them when we first came in.”

“Put those freaking flowers down now”, I screeched. “I do not want any stupid flowers. I want to get my probiotics and go home so that I can get away from you two.”

Vociferous laughter bubbled out of my two tormentors. I stomped off toward the homeopathic remedies. I was having visions of murder and mayhem. I wanted to kill two of the people that I loved most in the world. A man walked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.

“Ma’am, I believe you dropped this bouquet. Those two people back there said they belonged to you. They are quite lovely and would look good in a dining room”, the stranger said.

“AAAARRRGGGHHHH!!”

To be continued…

What A Pair We Are…When the Son Came to Visit Pt. I

2010-07-14T11:09:00.000-07:00

I waited at the airport with heart pounding, palms sweaty and brain working overtime. My youngest son was due to arrive from Los Angeles at any moment. I was beyond happy and a little bit nervous. I was going to “come out” officially to him and though I figured he already knew since I have been living with Sweetie for over a year and a half, I wanted to make it official. Besides, Sweetie does not like sleeping alone and I figured that once I crawled in bed beside her it would be a dead giveaway. I had decided to come out to my youngest first since he is my open-minded, model/actor son. I knew he would not judge or go a bit crazy or threaten to jump off a bridge. My daughter is the emotional bridge-jumper and she is up next for the big unveiling. Then comes the Baptist youth minister son with many opinions. Yeesh! Now can you understand why I wanted to begin with the youngest?

I saw him as he walked out the door at the airport and jumped into the front seat beside me. His red hair gleamed. His blue eyes sparkled. He was just beautiful. I had missed him more than I even realized. I decided then to wait a day to tell him so that we could just talk and enjoy each other. Sweetie would understand and give me one night out of our bed…maybe. The talk flowed easily as I asked him about his flight, his auditions, his girlfriend, his life in general. We ate some lunch and headed home. On the way, I started to sweat again. I had not “de-dyked” the house. There were pictures of me and Sweetie out on the table as you walk in the door. It was fairly obvious that only the dogs slept in the guest room due to the hair on the sheets. Our lesbian romance novels filled the living room shelves. My night clothes were laying on the foot of OUR bed. I had to tell him. It could not wait. I needed a valium. Or a drink. Or both.

We arrived at home, grabbed his suitcase and in we went. He was mauled by the dogs first. He loved it. He sat in the middle of them and let them lick him to death while he laughed joyously. I kept peeking at the picture of me and Sweetie sitting on the shelf right by his shoulder. Gulp. He then got up, walked around the house looking at everything. He loved the house and commented on paint color, the built-ins, the homey feel of the place. This was his first visit and he had to see, taste, and touch everything. He is a curious boy.

He touched the picture of me and Sweetie and said, “Oh this is a good picture of you and Sweetie. Ya’ll look happy.”

An opening. Yes. Here was my chance. “Thank you”. Then I froze up. My throat refused to allow another word to escape. Damn. Opportunity lost.

I showed him to his room. He loved the remodeling that we had done in there. Sweat was dripping off of my nose. I was in total melt-down. We walked back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Talk flowed freely again. He told me all about his Improv group and the show that they had just put on. He laughed about one of the games that they had performed where he had to be angry and just blurt out things randomly. For some reason, all he could think to say was “F#@k You”. Loudly. I was so proud. He continued telling me about the show and I continued to sweat and shake and wonder when to just spit it out.

“Can you see everyone’s faces mom? Other actors were saying things like “look the flowers are blooming in such lovely colors” and I yelled, “F#@k you” at them. No matter what they said, I just screamed “F you”. Everyone was shocked since that is so out of character for me and they had to try not to crack up which just made it more fun for me. “F you”, “F you”, “F you”. He was getting louder and louder and laughing harder and harder.

“Sweetie and I are a couple”, I blurted out.

“F you”, he shouted laughing, still caught up in the game.

“No really. We are a couple. Like a real couple. You know the kind that sleeps together and everything that comes with being a real pair”, I said in a rush.

Silence. Fear washed over me.

“She is really, really good to me and she loves me and I love her and we have made a home together…”, I continued.

More silence. The sweat started to drip harder. It was like a faucet was attached to the end of my nose.

“I am happy son. Really happy.”

Nothing.

“Say something. Please. Anything. I can take it”, I told him.

Then I detected the sweat on his face. Noticed the trembling of his hands. Saw the complete look of fear in his eyes.

“Son, what is wrong? Do you hate me? Are you shocked? Grossed out? What? Talk to momma please”, I begged.

Again I was met with silence. This boy is never quiet. Never at a loss for words. Had I really shocked him. Did he hate me.

“Speak to me baby. I am still your momma. Tell me what you think.”

Finally he looked me right in the eyes and said, “I love you momma. I could never hate you. I think it is great that you and Sweetie are together and happy. You smile a lot and that means so much to me. I could never be shocked or grossed out. I am engaged. You are happy. That is wonderful. I am glad you found someone.

What a wonderful, understanding son. He loves me and accepts me and is happy for us. He is engaged. He is not gros…huh? He is engaged? Excuse me.

“Thank you son for understanding. I love you so much. Did you say you are engaged or enraged?”, I asked.

“I am engaged momma. I love her so much. I know that we are young and are trying to get established in our careers but we will have a long engagement and we are smart and know that we have to get everything together before we actually marry and….” Now he was rambling.

I was silent.

“Oh momma, please be happy for me, for us. I thought it through. I even bought her a beautiful ring. She is very important to me”, he continued.

My throat was dry. This was my baby. What did I feel? How should I handle this? Boy had the conversation gone in a different direction than I had expected.

“I am happy momma. She makes me happy. Just like Sweetie makes you happy. Can you understand that? Please. For me.”

He looked just like he did when he was six years old. He wanted my approval. He needed my approval, much as I wanted and needed his. We were in the same boat. We were two scared individuals that loved each other desperately and wanted happiness each for the other.

More silence. I was shocked. I knew that it showed on my face. I growled at him vociferously.

The look on his face was priceless. He looked like I was going to cut his wee-wee off. I burst into laughter. We were both big ole chickens that had kept something very important from one another due to fear. How silly. He started laughing too.

“Wow, what a pair we are huh Ma? We were absolutely making ourselves crazy because we were afraid how the other would react. We are family. Family accepts each other. No matter what. I love you momma. You could do nothing to make me hate you. You are my bestest friend in the whole world”, he was still giggling.

“So, have you told your brother yet”, I asked.

“Have you”, he replied.

“Not a chance”, I said.

“Me neither”, he chuckled.

“So, we are ok now huh”, I asked.

“Well, yea”, he replied. “But I do have one question for you”.

“Shoot”, I replied.

“How do you guys “do it”, he asked with a wicked grin.

“F you”, I hooted hysterically as we hugged.

Suffering

2010-06-24T09:10:00.000-07:00

The air conditioning guys are here working on installing our new 4 ton York A/C system. I am sitting in the house, which has a temperature of 88 degree’s Fahrenheit, with sweat dripping from every pore. I have armpit sweat, boob sweat and butt crack sweat. I know, sexy right? I am also suffering from “No Air Conditioning in South Florida in the Summer Syndrome (NACSFSS).” NACSFSS is a bit like Tourettes Syndrome combined with OCD in that it makes me blurt out a series of random thoughts over and over. Since the heat started jacking up at an alarming rate at 7:30am this morning, I have spat out the same few sentences repeatedly. I do believe the sweet little A/C boys are scared. Maybe that will make them work harder and finish faster.

7:30 am

“Hello, ma’am, could you open back gate for us so that we can bring your absolutely wonderful new cooling system in and install it” asked the very tall and very skinny Ryan.

“Juno, if you don’t stop barking I will lock you in that bedroom right now”, I answered while swinging the gate back. Juno is a very protective Min-Pin. She is extremely loud.

“Ma’am, could you come and look at this so that you will know exactly what I did here”, asked Daniel, the other very tall, very skinny A/C guy.

“Cricket, do not dare bite that man. He is trying to cool us all off”, I replied while glancing at the wires that were hanging from the unit helter skelter. Cricket,the smaller Shepherd, is quite the little nipper!

“Could we please get some water”, the boys asked.

“Piper, stop gnawing at that mans leg right this minute”, I screeched as I threw 2 bottles of water in the general direction of the guys. Piper, our 115 pound German shepherd is teething a bit. Legs are her favorite.

“Ma’am we can’t put the thermostat where you wanted it because that is a load bearing wall of concrete. Don’t worry though, I will patch up the big ole hole that I cut out of it.”, Ryan said.

“If you three don’t stop barking at the top of your lungs, I am going to cut out your voice boxes”, I told the dogs loudly while waving off Ryan and the hole in the wall. Sometimes the dogs just bark. In tandem. Loudly. There won't be any patching those holes up!

12:00pm
“Hi Honey. Just checking in. How are you and the dogs making out with no air”, Sweetie asked on the phone from her air conditioned office.

“It is 88 degrees in here. My brain is freaking fried”, I yelled into the receiver.

“But how is everything looking. They have not made any holes in the wall have they? Are they doing it right? Are they doing it like Mike“, she continued.

“I hate you”, I answered.

“Excuse me”, she said.

“Juno, if you don’t stop barking I will lock you in that bedroom right now”, I hollered. Juno heard her name and walked out of the bedroom panting to see what all the commotion was about. She then turned her stubby little tail up at me and marched right back into the bedroom. I think I heard her curse me.

“OK, then, I will talk to you later babe”, as she hung up hastily.

“Ma’am, we are going to start installing the baffle in just a few minutes”, Ryan said.

“Cricket, do not dare bite that man. He is trying to cool us all off”, I bellowed while wiping the sweat from underneath my boobs and nodding at Ryan. Cricket licked Ryan’s boot as if apologizing for her mommies behavior.

2:30pm
“Can you come here and let me show you how to use the new thermostat”, inquired Daniel.

“Piper, stop gnawing at that mans leg right this minute”, I roared while walking over to Daniel. Piper, who had been sleeping on the sofa, looked up at me quizzically then swiftly fell back asleep. This was not new to her. The air had been out for weeks. She was used to mommies NACSFSS.

“We are going to turn on your unit in about an hour or so. If you could start closing the doors and windows and opening up the vents that would be great”, Ryan told me 7 hours after the work had commenced.

“If you three don’t stop barking at the top of your lungs, I am going to cut out your voice boxes”, I shrieked as I got up to do as I was told.

“Ummm, Ma’am, the dogs are in the back yard. They are not barking. Are you OK” Ryan inquired with concern.

“It is 88 degrees in here. My brain is freaking fried”, I told him while pulling my shirt over my head to try and find a breeze to dry my boobs off. I have no shame.

4pm

“Hon, I am just checking in. Make sure they calibrate the air flow in each room so that the pressure….”, Sweetie began on the phone. This was her 32nd phone call of the day just to "check in".

“I hate you”, I howled.

“Alrighty then, I have a meeting. Be home soon. I love you”, she said as she dropped the phone quickly.

4:17pm
“Ma’am, you are all hooked up. Come here and feel that cold, frosty, arctic air flow”, Daniel said.

“I love you”, I cried out in pure ecstasy as I kissed Ryan and Daniels dirty boots. They glanced at me with befuddled expressions then ran for their truck.

It is amazing what good air conditioning can do for a person. I am cured. No more NACSFSS. Until the next time.

“We’ve Got Your “Real L Word” Right Here”

2010-06-22T15:57:00.000-07:00

Sweetie and I were in the pool over the weekend and the subject of “The Real L Word” came up. The conversation led to us living out our “Real Lesbian Life” for the day and then comparing it to “The Real L Word” once we watched it that night. Compare the two and see which you live each day. Which life is really real in the grand scheme of things. I’ll just bet you come to the same conclusion that we did.

Our Day as Real Lesbians…

7:00am ~ Sweetie wakes up to take the dogs out to potty. She lets me sleep in as she does some computer work on a project she has due the next day.

8:15am ~ Sweetie walks back and forth in the bedroom and mumbles about starving to death at any moment if she does not get breakfast. I ignore her as much as possible. The bed feels too good to worry about food.

8:30am ~ Sweetie does a giant frog leap onto the bed. “Hon, are you awake”, she asks

“No dear I am not”, I reply.

“But babe, I am hungry.”

“Then eat.”

“But I want your pancakes. You know that I love your pancakes. They are the best. Please, baby….”, she said with lots of well placed kisses.

9:00am ~ I serve sweetie her pancakes. YES, I said serve. I serve her much of the time. I like it. She likes it. And besides, I am a sucker for well placed kisses. We talk about what we have to do this day.

“Don’t forget that we have to go to the mall today. You have to have new black pants and you really need a haircut because you have that Wake tomorrow after work”, I told her.
“Do we really have to go? You know I hate the mall. I‘d rather order my pants”, she said.

“It is too late to order your pants. You need them tomorrow so just get ready and don‘t grumble. I’ll clean the kitchen and feed the dogs while you shower. Go on now.” I headed to the kitchen.

10:00am ~ I walk back into the living room. Sweetie is watching “Eye For and Eye” starring Sally Field and Keifer Sutherland on Showtime. She is not wet. She has not showered.
“What are you doing”, I ask.

“Watching a movie”, she said.

“Why?”

“Because it is a good movie and it came on and I got interested and I was going to shower but this grabbed my attention and I will shower in just a second and come sit with me because I want to hold you for a few minutes…..”, she blurted in one breath.

“Your full of crap”, I laughed. “You don’t want to hold me. You just want to watch this movie and not think about having to go to the mall.”
“I love you”, she said.

I sat down to watch Keifer terrorize Sally and her family. I’m easy.
11:20am ~ Sweetie gets up to shower.

“Where are you going”, I asked. “The movie isn’t over yet.”

“I’ve seen it before. I’m going to shower and then watch the end.”

“HUH?” She was already gone. I stayed there to finish the show. I am invested now.

11:50am ~ Sweetie rejoins me for the killing scene. She goes to dry her hair. I head off to shower and get dressed.

Nothing worth allowing cameras into our life so others could watch so far…

1:00pm ~ We head to the mall. Sweetie puts it off just a little while longer by announcing that she is hungry and that we should eat. I suggest the food court in the mall. She gags. We drive around in literal circles looking for a restaurant that catches her eye. We both know that she is just putting off the inevitable.

“Chili’s”, I ask.

“No.”

“California Pizza Kitchen?”

“Pizza last night.”

“Smokey Bones?”

“Too heavy.”

“Panera Bread is all that is left out here. If you don’t want that we will have to eat in the food court”, I said impatiently.

“Panera Bread it is”.

Finally.

2:00pm ~ We head to the dreaded mall. I am smiling. Sweetie looks like she is going in front of a firing squad. She buys her pants at Dillard’s so we park there and head in.

“It’s hot”, she says.

“Yes and we still have to go inside and buy pants.”

“But I want to go home.”
I leave her in my wake. She follows dejectedly.

My eyes are caught by the lingerie section. “OOOOOOH purple. I love purple. Look at the fit and the lace. That is gorgeous and it’s on sale.” Sales are good!

“Whattya need that for. It’ll just come off.” Her mood is not improving.

“What about you go find your pants and I’ll do my thing and we’ll meet by the escalator when we finish”, I suggest.

“Fine”, she says. “It is 2:15. Meet me at the escalators at 2:30.

“You have got to be kidding”, I said unbelievingly.

“Nope, see ya then.” And, she was gone.

Whoopee. 15 whole minutes. I ran through the store grabbing stuff then rushed to the dressing room. “Nope. Not a chance. Yuck. Gotta go on a diet”, I said as I tried each thing on in a hurry. I hurried over to the register and bought my purple lingerie which I will save for a special evening. An evening when the air conditioning is working well.

2:38pm ~ Sweetie walks up to me at the escalator. She was late. HA.

“There was a line”, she says. “Can we go home now?”

“You need your hair trimmed. Come on now.”

2:45pm ~ We found a place to cut my Sweeties hair. The whole place was ran by Drill Sergeant Dyke (D.S.D). Very cute haircut though. She was giving orders and doing it in style. Sweetie looked rather scared. There were several people in front of her so she said to D.S.D., “I’ll come back in half an hour.”

“NO. DON’T GO ANYWHERE. I’LL GET YOU DONE RIGHT AWAY”, D.S.D. shouted.

I giggled and whispered to Sweetie, “How sweet, she is helping a sistah out.”

She shoved me toward the door and told me that she would meet me in 30 minutes. She did not see the humor in the situation.

As I headed out the door I heard, “SO IS YOUR GIRL OUT HERE SPENDING ALL OF YOUR MONEY?” I glanced back just in time to see D.S.D. shove Sweetie into a chair. She was the one that would be cutting Sweeties hair. She was a talker. Sweetie is not. She had a trendy haircut. Sweetie is conservative. I laughed so hard that I almost pee’d myself. There is a God!

I walked into J.C. Penney’s. It was right by the salon. I found a cute while tank, paid for it and headed out the door to find NY & Co.

3:00pm ~ I ran slap into Sweetie coming out of the salon. She grabbed my arm and hissed, “Let’s go. Now.” She looked terrified.

“What’s wrong”, I asked.

“Hush. Let’s go.”

“Did she hit on you”, I asked laughing.

“NO. Be quiet”

“But….”

She jumped in, “She cut my whole head in under 15 minutes. She said I have a waxy build up. You will probably have to fix me up. Surely it is not even. She was throwing hair everywhere.”

“There, there. It’ll be ok. Let me look.” I was giggling again.

“Don’t touch my hair right here”, she almost shouted. She never actually shouts. She almost did this time. I think she was traumatized. I sniggered some more.

“When we get home, I will pour Sprite on your hair. That breaks down the waxy build-up. I learned that in cosmetology school”, I said.

“Not a chance in hell”, she replied.

We stopped by NY & Co and I bought a couple of tanks that were on clearance. As I said, I like a sale.

3:15pm ~ We headed home. Sweetie needed rest. Trauma takes a lot out of a girl. A whole hour at the mall, a haircut from D.S.D. and waxy build-up. This was all too much for my Love.

Still not a thing worth filming so that others could watch us on T.V. so far…

3:25pm ~ “Oh yea, we need spaghetti sauce and toilet paper,” I said.

“Just shoot me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic”, I admonished. “There is a Target. We can get it in there and I can pee. I really have to pee Sweetie.”

She whipped the truck into Target on two wheels ala’ James Bond. I grabbed the “Oh shit” handle and squealed. We went in, she grabbed random stuff and threw it in the buggy and I pee’d.

3:45pm ~ We headed home for real this time.

Seriously, would you watch us on T.V.…

4:00pm ~ We pulled up to our house. As we pulled in sweetie admired the greenness and symmetry of our yard, she always does. I did not notice, I never do. We were “Home Sweet Home.” Or, in our case, “Home Hot Home”. Our A/C has been acting up. It is hot in South Florida. Very hot. It was miserable. We carried everything inside and put it up. We were sweating. I grabbed Sweetie and shoved her head under the faucet. I then commenced to pour Sprite on her hair and worked it through.

“Let’s go swimming”, I said.

She ran upstairs, threw on her trunks and T-shirt and flew by me. She was out the door and in the water before I could even move. I couldn’t find my suit so I grabbed an old pair of her trunks and a beater and went to join her. She took one look at me in her trunks and the beater and her eyes darkened. She likes me in her clothes. I jumped in and we made out until Piper, our 110 pound German Shepherd jumped into the pool and headed right toward me. She likes to swim with me and hang around my neck like a big ole baby. Sexy-time was over. Mommy-time had commenced. Sweetie grabbed a noodle and laid back on it and conversation began.

“The Real L Word” starts tonight. Whattya think? Are we gonna watch it or not”, I asked.

“Well, is it like a real, real show with plots and everything or is it a reality show or a scripted reality show“, she asked while trying to balance standing up on the noodle.

“From what I read, it is not a “show” like “The L Word” was. It is a reality show that follows a group of Los Angeles Lesbians. It will follow all the “pretty people” as they go from club to club or premiere to premiere. And, yes, I am positive that some of it will be scripted as all reality shows are scripted in one way or another”, I answered. My son has done a reality show so I know that most all are scripted to some degree.

“But what makes these people interesting enough to watch week to week,” Sweetie wanted to know. “Hey, can you stand on a noodle? I can’t do it.”

“I don’t know. Throw the purple one over here and let me try.“ I said as I sent Piper back to the steps of the pool. “I guess it is the fact that they are in L.A. and they probably have lots of money and they go to premieres and really cool clubs and probably all weigh 12 pounds and are strikingly gorgeous and sleep around a lot. Look Babe, I can do it. I can balance on the noodle.”

“How the hell are you doing that? I keep falling. Here try two noodles. Can you do that smarty-pants? She said, then continued on the “Lword” subject. “But why would people want to watch them any more than they would want to watch us?” Sweetie was certainly just full of questions!

“Because we are trying to balance on pool noodles m’love. People would not want to watch us because we are real reality. We are pretty much boring”, I answered. “Ta-Da, I can balance on two noodles.”

Sweetie took offense to this. “Excuse me”, she said. “We are boring? How are we boring? Why are we boring? Are you bored? Who says that we are b….”, she was on a roll.

I jumped in. “Hold on Sweet-thang, don’t get all crazy. I am not bored. We are not boring in our life but we are normal. We don’t go to clubs. We don’t go to premieres. We don’t sleep around. Normal and wonderful but really boring to base a television show on. That’s all.”

“But you said we are boring”, she pouted. “I don’t want you to be bored. Damn this noodle.”

“Arrrggghhh, I am not bored. Spread your legs a little more. That makes it easier to stand“, I told her. “We live our life and I love it. But, Sweetie, think about it. Think about what we did today and what we will do tonight. Seriously, who in their right mind would wanna watch it?”

“I can’t do it. I just can’t balance on the noodle. I am more buoyant than you I think. Can you make the number three with both hands,“ she asked then continued, “So, we’ll finish out the day in our normal fashion then we’ll watch “The Real L Word” and see which is more entertaining. Sound good?”

“Yep. Sounds good as long as you won’t pout anymore. Of course I can make the number three with both hands. Why”, I asked her while holding up both hands with my first three fingers up and my pinkie and thumb touching.

“I can’t do that either”, she lamented. “Look.” She held up her left hand. Perfect number three hand. She held up her right. It looked like a lobster claw. Her thumb did not touch her pinkie at all. Her ring finger was crooked downward. The bird finger was a bit low too.

“Damn, Babe, what’s wrong with it? I hope it is nothing serious. That is your “good hand” you know“, I said wickedly while wiggling my eyebrows up and down.

“Stop it”, she said while continuing to make it work. She could not do it.

“Sweetie, do you really think anyone in their right mind would want to watch us on TV”, I asked then blew on my noodle and sent water splashing right in her face.

I giggled. She did not. She turned her back to me. A huge splat of water hit me right square in the mouth. She had blown on her noodle too. The war was on. Piper joined in and we all splashed laughingly around for a good while the other 2 dogs frolicked around outside the pool, keeping dry.

Still not sure there is anything others would find worth watching on Showtime…

6:15pm ~ We decided to get out of the pool. We went in and I ran a bath while feeding the dogs. Then, while I bathed, Sweetie started dinner. I got out and finished up the pasta while she showered. We have a perfect tag-team routine going. Sweetie then dried her hair. It shone beautifully. The Sprite worked. HA!

7:00pm ~ We ate dinner while watching “The Phantom” on SyFy. And then, during a commercial as we cleaned up, I said something stupid. A disagreement ensued. Sweetie used her “serious voice’. I can not stand her “serious voice”. It was hot, we were tired and it got ugly. Not loud, not mean, just ugly. Feelings got hurt. I got up and went to the bedroom, where we now have a nice wall-mounted TV, and turned on “The Phantom” there.

8:00pm ~ I called my daddy to wish him a happy father’s day. He is not a big talker. It is a family game to see who can keep him on the phone the longest. I hold the record so far, 22 minutes 37 seconds. I hope to break it today. He was about to have a nervous breakdown as I kept thinking of something new to talk about. “So how’s the weather?” “What did you do today?” “Have you painted the porch?” “Is blue still your favorite color?” I do not break the record. I keep him on the phone for only 13 minutes 48 seconds. Damn. One of my kids are going to break my record some day. I can feel it.

8:30pm ~ I went downstairs and asked Sweetie if she wanted me to make her the dessert that I had planned for her. I had Molten Chocolate cake.
“Yes, please”, she says. “Are you gonna watch “The L Word” with me?”

“I don’t know. I am a bit sleepy.” My feelings were still hurt.

I brought her the cake and I sat down on the couch to eat mine as well. I watched her as she ate from the corner of my eye. Damn I love this woman.

9:00pm ~ We sit stoically and watch the beginning of “The Phantom, Part II”. I hate silence. Cricket, the smaller Shepherd, lay down beside me and Juno, the Min-Pin, crawled into my lap. Piper rests at my feet. They know that I am sad. Such sweet girls.

I am sure there is none of this that others would want to watch….

9:45pm ~ “Honey, can we go lay in the bed and watch “The Real L Word” together,” Sweetie asked. “I am taping “The Phantom” and we can watch the last hour tomorrow.

“Ok, if you want,” I said and we head off up the stairs.

10:00pm ~ We lay side by side on the bed staring at the television.

After about 10 minutes Sweetie muttered, “Stupid.”

“Pretty much what I expected”, I said.

Another few minutes passed.

“She’s scary-ugly”, she said about one of the girls that are particularly skinny.

“Yup”, I replied.

More time went by.

“Boring” she said.

“Kinda”, I said, “Should we just turn it off?”

“Yea”, she replied grabbing the remote.

“Why did what I said bother you so much”, I asked.

“I don’t know but it did”, she replied.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I did not want today to be ruined. I‘m sorry.”

“Me too”, she said and turned away from me onto her side.

Silence.

10:48pm ~ I get up and go down to the spare bedroom to read the new “People“ magazine . Have I said how much I hate silence?

11:15pm ~ I snuggle up to Juno who jumped into the bed with me. She licks my face. She knows I hate to sleep alone. I get lonely.

11:30pm ~ I head back upstairs. I touch Sweetie on the back. “I love you so much”, I whisper softly.

“I love you too. Very much”, she says sleepily.

We sleep.

We are not perfect. We act silly. We laugh. We fight. We love a lot. Maybe no one would want to watch our life on television but that is ok with us. The ladies on “The Real L Word” were pretty boring themselves and I did not see nearly as much love in their houses as we have in our home. I know that I prefer the life we have and I believe that Sweetie does too. The ladies of "The Real L Word" can have their reality. This is ours and it's damn good!

Everyone should be “Just like Mike”

2010-06-19T11:43:00.000-07:00

My poor Sweetie has been in a pure melt down for the last two weeks. It is very hot in South Florida. Sweetie does not do hot. She abhors it. As a matter of fact, she tends to like to keep the thermostat set at “meat locker” temp. She has a propensity to want to see icicles forming in the corners of the living room. I usually have to have a blanket to keep them from forming on my nipples. But, not this summer. It is a different kind of hot. The temps are already soaring in to the upper 90’s with heat index’s running over 100 degrees. It is sweltering. We are not sleeping well. The thermostat reads 83, inside! Sweetie decided that we needed a new air conditioner. The old one was just not doing it any longer. She called for estimates.

Today the nice man from E*D*S Air showed up. Sweetie met him at the door with a porcelain bowl of Beluga Caviar on a bed of crushed ice. It was prepared in the Malossol method which means lightly salted. This is preferred by connoisseurs. She served it with a plate of toast points, lightly browned. For his drinking pleasure, she had a bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal. I had egg salad and grape juice for lunch. Not sure this is fair. Just saying.

She had a pair of slippers and a Stradavarius Churchill cigar for his comfort as well. She wanted to be sure that he was in complete comfort as he went from room to room doing up our little estimate. I do believe she would have given him a modest kiss if he had wanted one. Anything in the name of cold, frosty comfort. She is desperate.

He finished up all of his figuring and sat down at the dining table to talk about what we needed. She stood by and fanned him while having me peel grapes and feed them to him. Desperate times call for desperate measures. He started talking about SEER and the tonnage. Oh my stars, this excited her to no end. She lit up like Rockefeller Center at Christmas.

“Honey, did you hear that. It is an 18 SEER. Wow. That is great”, she said with excitement.

“Ummm Hmmm”, I replied. “Sure Sweetie”.

“But babe it is a 4 ton unit. That will rattle the vents. And it’s a York”, she continued.

“That’s nice Sweetie. Really great.” I had tuned out by this point. I didn’t need specifics. I needed cold.

The nice man from E*D*S asked, “How did you hear about us?”

“From Mike”, she said.

“Mike”, he asked.

“Mike Holmes”, she told him. “You know Mike don’t you?”

“Ummm, I don’t think so”, he answered.

I felt it necessary to chime in here, “Mike Holmes. You know from “Holmes on Homes” on HGTV. She never misses an episode. She loooovvves him.”

“Just hush”, she admonished. “I do not love him. I think he is a good guy. He is a true hero. He fixes peoples homes the right way. Everyone should do it just like Mike. He always uses York units.”

“AAH”, said the nice A/C man. “Gotcha.” Then he ate some more Beluga, took a stiff drink of Cristal and continued. “So the unit will be $7810.00. That includes blah, blah, blah“. (At least that is what I heard) “You are eligible for an FPL rebate and an instant rebate and blah, blah, blah.” (I had tuned out again) “Your total due at install will be $6435.00. Then there is a mail-in rebate of $1000.00 that you will receive as well…blah, blah, blah.”

“And, when could you do the installation”, she asked.

“Wednesday”, was his answer.

“I love you!”, she whispered.

“Huh”, he said with a strange look on his face.

“Ummm, errrrr, I just said that would be perfect”, she replied. “Let’s do it.”

The nice man was excited. He had a full belly, a nice buzz and he had made the sale. “Fantastic.”

Sweetie wrapped up the rest of the caviar, the champagne, some grapes, another cigar and his new slippers for the nice man and sent him on his way. I guess she hoped the gifts would make sure he did the job right and on time.

Just like Mike!

Living on the Face of the Sun

2010-06-17T13:20:00.000-07:00

People flock to Florida in the summertime for a lovely week of rest and relaxation on the beach. They love it. It is beautiful. It is hot. There is water every where. They tan to an exquisite golden brown in a short time. They eat scrumptious seafood in quaint little restaurants on the beach. How lucky we, the natives, are to live here. How wonderful to have the sun, sand and sea at our back door. How fantastic to always have warm weather. BAH HUMBUG! It is hot in South Florida. It is much as I assume living on the face of the sun would be.

It is June. The temps are already hovering in the mid to high 90’s. The heat index is over 100 on most days. That is ridiculous. By August, it will inevitably be right around 150 degrees. We will all melt. As it is now, we get up early in the morning to shower because if we wait too late (anytime after 6am) we don’t have to even turn on the water. It just drips directly from our pores and pools right down into our butt crack. This is gross. This is our life on the face of the sun.

After our showers, Sweetie gets ready to go to work. She does so gladly because it is cold there. She has to wear long sleeves. From November until April, she drags to work in the morning. She dreads it. She wants to retire. Then around mid-May, she gets a spring to her step in the morning. She tap dances out the door whistling “High Ho, High Ho, It’s off to work I go”. This lasts until about October when the foot-dragging begins again.

I, however, work from home. I am not a happy camper. I have continuous boob sweat. I no longer wear underwear. My make-up runs off my face. My hair curls wildly and grows bigger by the minute. The dogs lay around me with their tongues hanging out. They plead with their big brown eyes for me to do something, anything, to cool them off. I take them outside and water them. Yep, in addition to the plants, we have to water the dogs. I turn on the hose and they just stand under the stream and look at me as if I am a goddess. So, I water myself as well. I am a goddess. It is wonderful to stand there under the hose with my doggie-children. We have a pool as well. It feels like bath water. When we get in there, we don’t swim. I shave my legs. I am very resourceful. Sweetie just sits on the steps and grumbles about how the pool should be cold just as the house should be. Somehow this takes the fun out of having a pool, at least from June until September.

At about 2pm, the heat really kicks up. That is when I apologize profusely to the doggie-children and head for the door. I jump in the jeep and make my daily run to Publix. Once there, I grab a cart and walk slowly to the frozen food section. I hang out there, sticking my head in each freezer door pretending to peruse which brand of ice cream/frozen vegetable/Eggo waffle/meal in a bag is best. This usually takes about an hour. I then roll up to the checkout, purchase a diet Pepsi and head for my next stop; Wal-Mart. When I arrive, I mingle. I am on a first name basis with the guys in electronics, the ladies in the craft section and most of the cashiers. I see many of the same customers each day as well so I believe that this is quite a common practice for folks that live on the face of the sun. We wave, say “hello” and ask about each others kids. It is rather like belonging to a social club except that we don’t have to pay dues.

Don’t think we don’t have air conditioning. We do. We also have a $400.00 a month power bill! No joke. Sweetie keeps the A/C set on 68 degrees. It never gets down to that. We have 2 thermometers to measure how miserable we should be. At this moment, one reads 78 and the other reads 83 so the median temp is 80.5 degrees. Inside the house. With 3 fans running at full force. Yes, I know that having 3 fans running sounds very redneck. That is ok. I am from GA. I am a redneck, albeit a reformed one. Sweetie says she is NOT a redneck but she is loving the fans! We might even put one in the window soon. Redneck heaven. I do not care as long as it cools this house off. 80.5 degrees is at the “nasty miserable” stage, 82 degrees is totally “bitch miserable”. We are on our way. Quickly.

Sweetie called 3 different A/C companies yesterday to get them to come out and give us an estimate on a new unit. I heard her tell the guys on the phone that she “wanted the damn vents to rattle out of the wall” and that she would “hunt them down like dogs if it didn’t cool correctly”. The temp was at 82.5 when she made the calls…as I said, “bitch miserable”! She says that she will pay 10 grand to the first person that can make the air work the way she wants it to. She is desperate. Living on the face of the sun is expensive.

We have shut all of the “Big Bertha” hurricane shutters on the east and west sides of the house. We keep all the lights off. It is like living in a cave. It is getting to me. I have started drawing stick figures on the walls. Someday, people will know exactly what we went through just by “reading” the drawings. They will know it was not pleasant. They will know we suffered. They will feel for us. They will see from my art that there is no longer any cuddling in the bed at night. We tried a few times but we stuck together and actually made a farting sound when we forced ourselves apart, ya know the sound that little boys make when they cup their hands under their armpits and flap their arms really hard. Not very sexy, I know. Speaking of sex, not so much. “Bitch miserable” heat truly ruins the mojo. That sucks! I miss it. October is not so far away though or so it seems when it‘s this hot. The drawings will also show that we can no longer cook in the house. Thank heavens for the grill. Did you know that you can actually make spaghetti on the grill? Well, you can. Pancakes are a bit harder but I’m learning. I am documenting everything with my cave drawings. I want people to understand what we went through day by day living on the face of the sun.

At about 9:37pm last night, Sweetie and I were sitting on the sofa watching some idiot wiggle his eyebrows on America’s got Talent and I heard “OOOOOHH” coming from Sweeties direction! It was a very loud OOOOHH and it scared me and the doggie-children dreadfully. I jumped and squealed and the dogs threw back their heads and howled. I looked over at Sweetie to see if she had suffered a heart attack or some equally horrific crisis. She was sitting in the yoga “Seated Pose”, much like Buddha. Legs crossed, back straight, arms on knees, thumb and middle finger touching in a circle, eyes half closed, face orgasmic, “OOOOOHH” coming from her very core. I was petrified. Sweetie had flipped. She needed help. Badly. Sweetie does not do Yoga or meditate. Her poor hot mind had snapped. I grabbed her and shook her.

“Are you OK?” I bellowed.

“OOOOOHH, Baby, can you feel it? Can you? Reach up, feel. Oh Baby, just feeeeel”, she replied.

“Huh”, I said. “You are scaring me. Are you OK? Do you hurt? What is happening?”

“No, I do not hurt. I feel cold air. Did you hear me? COLD AIR, and it is good, Baby. Real good. OOOOHH!”

“Cold air? Where? How…”, I stammered in excitement.

She grabbed me and pulled me over beside her and I’ll be damned, I felt it too!

“I feel it”, I squealed. “Does this mean I am gonna get laid tonight? We can do it right here. Right where the wonderful cool air is.” Hey, I take it when I can get it. I told you, I am resourceful.

Sweetie rolled her eyes. She leaned back again and enjoyed that moment of cold air. And that was about how long it lasted. A moment. Then it went away again. Sweetie slumped into “dejected dog” pose. I pouted when I realized that I was probably going to have to wait until October to get laid. Tears started to roll down both of our faces. They blended with the sweat draining from our pores. The dogs ran over to lick the water off of us. They have become resourceful as well. We went to bed and fell into a miserable sleep. On opposite sides of the bed. Not touching. We knew that tomorrow would be just the same.

And it is.

Dear Lord, I just looked at the thermometer. It is 83.3 degrees. In the house. With 3 fans running and the A/C on 68. This is way past “bitch miserable”. This is “murderous miserable”. I gotta get out of here now. Frozen food aisle here I come.

This, my dear vacationers, is what it is like when you live on the face of the sun!

The trip to the hospital, Part 3: All Hail to Dr. House

2010-06-14T12:19:00.000-07:00

My daughter and I were hanging out in my hospital room watching TV and talking. Face it, there is nothing else to do in the hospital. We were watching “Dancing with the Stars” when all of a sudden this short little man burst into my room with aplomb. He was followed by two residents that I immediately dubbed Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee because they looked like bookends. They were Indian and so they had very dark skin, hair and eyes. They had these huge smiles plastered on their faces and their dark skin made their uber-white teeth emit a glare that was a bit startling to the naked eye. They had on astonishingly white lab coats. Their perfectly polished shoes, flawlessly ironed and creased pants and gleaming stethoscopes matched from tip to toe.

I realized that this little man was Dr. House in disguise. He stalked right up to my TV and turned it off. I actually had my hand on the button on my bedside control so that I could turn it down while still seeing the picture, but he is fast and totally in charge. I immediately knew that he suffered from "Napoleon complex" a condition whereby undersized men compensate for their smallness by physically, mentally, or emotionally asserting their presence. My daughter and I were taken aback. How could we watch Chad Ochocinco, who definitely does not have “Napoleon complex”, and his extremely hot partner, Cheryl Burke, do the salsa? Oh Lordy. This was bad.

Dr House whirled toward me and said gruffly, “So, you are sick huh? That’s what you think? Well, is it?”

Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee looked at me quizzically.

“Ummm”, I stammered. “Yes? I believe so. What do you think?” Dr. House scared me a bit. His compensation for his smallness was working on me! He was loud and over-bearing and acted like he was very much superior. I bought it hook, line and sinker.

He noticed my daughter at that point. She had been trying to climb under the chair for safety. “YOU”, He shouted. “Get out. Now! Unless you are sick too. Are you?” My wonderful, sweet, brave daughter shook her head vehemently and bolted from the room like a dear that had been hit with buckshot. So much for her helping me out.

He whirled back on me and said, “Well, you should know better than anyone if you are sick. Don’t you think?”

Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee nodded as if I were stupid.

“Well, yes, I believe I shou….”

“Do you think your fever broke because you have been here for a week or because you finally got the right antibiotic”, he interrupted.

I sat up straight and tried to sound as intelligent as possible with basically no sleep, fear running through my veins along with the dilaudid that had just been shot into my IV. I am not sure it was working for me. I do not think I was thinking or speaking too intelligently. I tried though. I really did!

“I believe it was the antibiotic Sir. I have had 5 different antibiotics since I got here on Tuesday. None of them even touched my fever. Within an hour of starting this last antibiotic, my fever broke, the chills stopped, my pain lessened….”

“Well, what do you know?”, he asked. “Did you go to medical school?”

Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee looked at each other and smirked.

“Ummm, well, I know that I felt better after the medicine and that is what you asked. Wasn’t it?”, I asked with a bit of confusion.

Dr. House walked over to me, leaned down close enough for me to see the spit forming on his tongue and bellowed, “You could have died! Do you know that? Why didn‘t you come to the hospital sooner?”

Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee nodded pompously.

I wiped spit from my eyebrow and said, “I don‘t know why I didn‘t come sooner. I am not sure if I knew I could have died. I don’t think I did. I didn’t mean to almost die. I am sorry”. I was apologizing to him for being sick and interrupting his day. How did that happen. How did he make me feel guilty for being sick?

“Well, you don’t need to do this again. Ever. Do you understand?”, he said while turning to Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee. “Now, Gentleman, what are your thoughts?”

Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee looked at one another as if trying to figure out who’s turn it was to speak first. “We think she could have died”, the shorter one said.

“Yes, and she should have come to the hospital sooner”, said the other.

“Yes, yes”, said Dr. House. “Exceedingly enlightening. Anything else”.

“She is sick”, they said in unison. “And, the correct antibiotic finally alleviated her symptoms.”

“Spot on”, Dr. House said. “You boys are real brainiacs. The face of medicine to come. We should all be scared beyond belief. Blondie here came up with basically the same answers that you two did and she has never even stepped foot in a medical school. Idiots!”

House glanced at me and said, “You’ll get better if you don’t die first so keep your chin up.”

“Ummm, thanks. I think. OK.” I replied.

Dr. House headed out the door with Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee shuffling along behind him. I heard the taller one say, “It has to be Sarcoidosis!”

“Yes”, said the shorter one. “She has all of the symptoms.”

“No you fools”, House said. “She does not have all the symptoms. You both have more symptoms of sarcoidosis than she does. She has bilateral acute pyelonephritis. Do you even know what that is? Maybe you should Google it. God, where is medicine headed. I need 10 more of me to work with around here. The world needs thousands more of me to alleviate the suffering of others around the earth. I know best. I am superhuman. I am brilliant, skillful and gifted. I know everything. I am infatuated and obsessed with myself to the exclusion of all others and ruthlessly pursue my own gratification, world domination and ambition. Some may see me as a narcissist. I see only perfection….”

Then he was gone. I had been privy to his majestic glory. I would be healed now. Just by having him in my room. Tears started to form in the corners of my eyes. How lucky was I to have just been in his presence. If you believe this part, I feel sorry for you. What really happened is that I threw up a little bit in my mouth while listening to him toot his own horn. He is an ass. Albeit a very intelligent ass. He did figure out what was going on with my kidneys and hopefully fixed them. For this I am forever grateful.

My daughter quietly snuck back in the room and flipped on the TV. Chad Ochocinco was just beginning to dance. This made her happy. Partner Cheryl was shimmying in a very skimpy dress. This made me happy. We both squealed with delight. Back to the crucial stuff now. It’s all about priorities!

**Addendum**

I want to take this time to seriously thank everyone at JFK Hospital in Lake Worth FL. I know that I have used humor to deal with my illness but in no way does this reflect on the care that I received while there. I was given care that went above and beyond what was normal and necessary and for this I am truly grateful. I appreciate all of the Drs., nurses, phlebotomists, x-ray techs, lab techs, ER staff, CT scan techs, housekeeping staff, food services staff, etc. You guys were wonderful and in my humble opinion, “YOU ROCK!” If I left anyone out, please forgive me and drop me a line at happylezhousewife@gay-e-magazine.com so that I can make it right! Blessings and love to you all!

GAY DAYS Orlando ~ Did you see the size of that thing?

2010-06-07T11:40:00.000-07:00

Sweetie and I went to GAY DAYS in Orlando this past weekend. We had tickets to see Michelle Balan and Vickie Shaw. I was stoked. Sweetie, not so much. You see, I am a social butterfly. I must talk to, hug, pat, and swap information with most everyone that I meet. Sweetie loves to go to shows but all of the schmoozing leaves her cold. I figure that’s ok though because I can really do some schmoozing. I could be a professional social butterfly. Put me in a crowd and I sprout wings, burst out of my cocoon (or my clothing…but that’s another story) and my mouth becomes unhinged. This is when Sweetie steps back and allows me to “act a fool”. She shakes her head as her eyes roll back, she mutters a bit and squeezes the soup out of my hand when I start saying too much. Which is often.

Anyway, we get to the hotel where the GAY DAYS Expo is being held. I was giddy. This was my first “GAY” event being as I am a “baby lesbian” and I was ready! I hopped out of the truck and headed toward the pool where all of the thumping music was happening. I did not know that there were two pools. A male pool and a female pool. Somehow we ended up at the male pool. Oh my goodness! I have never saw so many pee-pee’s in my life. I have two sons and their friends used to hang out at the house and I have seen pee-pee’s! I have seen lots of pee-pee’s as little boys don’t really care who is around. They will run naked through a grocery store on a dare, pee-pee's swinging. But this were totally different. The first guy I saw had on a “swim suit” that was approximately 2 inches wide and as thin as a moths wing. He also had on a toy gun in a holster and a cape. OK. I am open minded. I can handle this. So, I whacked Sweetie in the arm with my elbow and whispered ,“Did you see that?”

“HUSHHHH”, she hissed. “Do not say a word. I mean it. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Hon. I’ve got it. I’m OK. I’ll be good now.”

Then Robin, from Batman and Robin, flew by me. He was followed closely by a beautiful man in a white, see through, string bikini. The man in white was striking. My son is a model so I notice jaw lines and this guy had an amazing jaw line. He also had a very visible pee-pee. I mean a totally, completely, utterly discernable pee-pee. His jaw line was remarkable. His pee-pee was not.

“Sweetie”, I sort of whispered. “Look at that. He has a gorgeous jaw but why would he want to show that pee-pee? My son’s was bigger at birth!”

“OH MY GOD! Will you stop yelling? Everyone can hear you. Do you even know how loud you are?”, Sweetie said through clenched teeth. She is going to get TMJ one day if she doesn’t stop all that that clenching.

“I am not loud. I was whispering. Kind of. But look at his pee-pee. It’s tiny”, I replied. “Why do you think he’d want everyone to see it. I am thinking that the other guys would point and laugh.”

“For the love of all that is holy, shut up! And close your eyes just a bit. You look like the guy in Young Frankenstein”, she said.

She then turned on her heels and left me. Right there in the middle of all of the pee-pee’s. I stayed there and waved and talked and generally got to know a few of the guys. A very sweet bunch they were, even if they did dress a bit ummmm, well, risqué. I then headed off to find my love. I didn’t have to look far. She was hunkered in a corner behind a plant trying very hard to blend in.

“Hey Sweetie”, I hollered as I ran over. “I made some new friends. Joe is the guy in the white string. He didn’t realize how small the suit made his pee-pee look until I pointed it out. He went and switched to a dark blue one and it is so much better. Tom is the guy with the gun and he really got a kick out of me when I asked if that was a gun in his spandex or was he just happy to see me. HAHA, pretty funny huh?”

“If you say another word I am going to cut your throat. I swear. I really will this time. I know I have threatened it before, but I mean it now. I will kill you right here”, she muttered.

“Geesh, you are touchy today aren’t you”, I said as we walked inside to the expo.

We walked right in to the 18+ area. Holy Moly! I am not innocent. I am experienced. But the things I saw there….

“Sweetie”, I yelled pointing. “Look at the size of that thing. Where would you put that? I’ve seen horses smaller than that.”

That’s when I noticed the small pocket knife that Sweetie was fingering slowly. I looked up at her and noticed that her eyes were glazed over. I knew then that I was in trouble and we had not even got to go to the show yet. I dropped to one knee and kissed her hand. I promised her that I would be good. I told her that I loved her. I talked her down. Crisis averted. This time. But there was still a lot of GAY DAYS to go.

To be continued…..

Our home is in a perpetual state of remodel

2010-06-03T13:07:00.000-07:00

Last night Sweetie and I ate dinner at the dinner table. It was a banner day. We have not been able to eat at the table for a very long time. You see, our house is in a perpetual state of remodel. At any given time there are screws, hammers, various power tools and/or paint on the table. This makes it extremely hard to eat there without finding metal or paint chips in your mashed potatoes. Let me tell you, mashed potatoes with green paint in them are a bit unpleasant to the eye and the palate. Chicken doesn’t look really appetizing with nail heads sticking out the top either. Not to mention the dental bills would be astronomical from chewing them. Sweetie has the best of intentions. When she starts a project, she means to finish it in a timely manner. She just tends to find another task to start before the prior one is finished.

We painted the living room about 3 months ago. Her job was cutting in the trim. We worked until about 2 am and she still liked a bit to finish when we went to bed. The next morning dawned and instead of cutting in paint, she cut the upstairs hall carpet out. Our cat, Max, had decided to pee on it for some reason so it smelled slightly. The cutting in of paint was forgotten and up came the hall carpet. We had no carpet to replace it. We also had no flooring. We just had a big hole where the carpet used to be and one wall with a big white strip at the top of it. Sweetie went out to find flooring and as luck would have it, they do not make our laminate flooring any longer. Yay. However, Sweetie did find new cheater blocks to replace the ones that the dogs had chewed. So that is what she brought home. She laid them on the table and that is where they stayed for approximately 4 weeks along with the hammer and nails to attach them to the walls.

Sweetie had decided that instead of attaching the cheater blocks, she needed to do the doors in the office. She was actually going to replace all the doors in the house but that would come in time. Maybe. She had bought the doors a year before and they had been sitting in the floor of the guestroom. The hardware to attach them was on the kitchen table. She finished one of the doors and came down to fiddle with the cheater blocks. She attached several to the wall without painting them. You guessed it, the paint made it’s way to the dining room table. We now had a big hole where the carpet used to be and one wall with a big white strip at the top of it, one door put up in the office (it needed 2) and unpainted cheater blocks scattered around.

I went to Canada right around this time. When I returned there were 5 boxes of laminate flooring sitting in the middle of the living room. She had been on a search. It paid off. She found some flooring. The receipt was on the dining table. We could no longer eat there. We moved to eating off of the ottoman in the living room while sitting on the couch. We also got hooked on “America’s Funniest Home Videos”.

Eating off of the ottoman was not the best idea that we had. We have to lean forward and hold our hand under our forks so that the food does not fall on us, the dogs, or the floor. This does not always work however so Sweetie has stains right between the boob area on several of her gray T-shirts. No big deal though as she has 49 of basically the same ones. I don’t have stains because the little dog sits underneath me and catches everything that falls. Something had to give. So, I cleaned off the table. It took a while but I did it. We still have a big hole where the carpet used to be and one wall with a big white strip at the top of it, laminate flooring laying in it’s boxes and unpainted cheater blocks scattered around. But, last night we bought flowers, we turned the lights low and talked as we actually ate off of the dining room table. It was nice. I wondered how long it would last.

I did not have to wonder long. Sweetie came in a few minutes ago and asked if I thought we should redo the guestroom since my youngest son is coming for a visit in a few weeks. She had several bags from Home Depot in her hands. They went right on the dining room table. Sweetie means well. She means to finish things in a timely manner. She just tends to find another task to start before the prior one is finished.

Anyone for Steak and baked potatoes for dinner? It will be served on the ottoman at approximately 7pm.

I am the Mommy...that's what I do....

2010-06-01T13:00:00.000-07:00

As I was making our bed this morning, I heard a strange noise coming from our newly painted downstairs bedroom. I tried to ignore it for a while but it sounded like someone was up to something in there and since I though everyone else was sleeping and Sweetie was at work, I was intrigued. I headed in that direction and there was my sweet darling middle daughter Cricket, sitting in the center of an entire roll of toilet paper that had been torn methodically from the spool. It spread from the bathroom wall out into the bedroom floor. She still had a piece hanging from her lips and I swear she was grinning. Cricket is our mischievous child. She tends to get into things that the other two just don’t think of. We expect it now. Like the good mommy that I am, I explained that we did not waste toilet paper because it is not good for the environment as well as being fairly expensive. Cricket just rolled her eyes at me and walked away. I called Sweetie and told her what HER daughter had done. Sweetie just chuckled and said, “Well at least she had fun”. Momma Sweetie does not have to clean up the mess so it is cute to her. Mommy however, did have to clean the mess up and cute; hmmm, not so much.

I headed back to make the bed and after about 15 minutes, I heard pounding at the slider door. The girls were wanting to go out to play. That seemed like a great idea. I could get some work done. Down the stairs I headed again. This time it was our youngest daughter, Piper, that was leading the charge. I opened the door and all three girls ran out the door only to stop dead in their tracks due to the oppressive heat. It was like they hit a wall. They turned right around on the patio and ran back into the house. No one wanted to play any longer. I tried to explain that they needed to get out and get some fresh air and sunshine. I assured them that they would not have to be out too long and that they most certainly would not die of heatstroke. They all three looked at each other like I was an idiot and sauntered toward the living room to lay under the vent. I suppose you could say they are a bit spoiled and like the creature comfort of air conditioning. They are much like their Momma this way. She is a bit hedonistic.

I left them laying and headed upstairs again to finish up in the bedroom. 10 minutes later, I heard a commotion and some pretty high pitched screeching. It sounded like someone was slaughtering a hog in the living room. I literally flew down the stairs. Cricket had Juno’s, the oldest yet smallest daughter, in a headlock. Juno did not seem to appreciate this at all and was wailing her displeasure. I extricated the poor little babes head from Crickets hold and enlightened her to the fact that one did not choke their sister, no matter what their sister did. Juno ran off in tears and hid behind the bed. Cricket stuck her tongue out towards Juno’s disappearing rump. I started to shake. It was only 9:30 in the morning and I was exhausted.

I sighed and gave up on making the bed. I plopped down on the sofa to start some work on the computer. I hadn’t been sitting there long when Juno brought over her favorite toy. She wanted to keep it from her sisters. She shoved it underneath my left butt cheek, tucked it in tight and smiled happily. No one would find it there. I think I should be offended about the reference to my butt size. I am, however, too tired to care so I just left it there and continued my typing. Juno walked off like a queen and blew a raspberry towards the other two girls who were searching for the toy. Good grief. I needed just a few minutes for myself.

I called the girls over and explained to them that Mommy was very tired and that it was time for a nap. They wanted to sleep by me so I told them that as long as they were quiet they could lay on the couch beside me and rest. They assured me that they would be good. That lasted for about two minutes. That is when the “she’s touching me” started. As quick as a wink, I separated them. Cricket lay on my right side, Juno on my right, and Piper behind me. Quiet settled in. I was ecstatic. Finally, I could get some things done. Whew! Hallelujah! Woo Hoo! Then I smelled it. Someone had farted. Not just a little fart. A silent but violent one. It was so bad that it made my eyes water and I threw up a little bit in my mouth.

“Who did this?”

The older girls turned around and glared at Piper. I turned my head slowly to my baby, not believing that anything that bad could come out of someone that sweet. She was clinching her eyes shut pretending to be asleep, but she was snickering. I could see her shoulders shaking.

“Piper, did you do this”, I asked.

She let out a big ole fake snore. The older girls twittered. I banged my head on the keyboard. I was still pounding it when Sweetie walked in at lunchtime.

“Why are you here”, I asked.

“I tried to call you and you did not answer. I was worried about you and the girls. Where are the girls”, she said ignoring the red lump on my forehead.

I looked around. I did not see them. I ran into their room and there they lay, all three of them, sleeping peacefully.

“Oh hon, what sweet girls we have. Just look at them. So quiet. So sweet. So obedient. How did we get so lucky”, Sweetie said.

I let out a primal yell. I had raised 3 children of my own, 2 boys and a girl. It had been easier than this. I know it had. Dogs are much more work than children. Our 3 canines are proof of that.

“Sweet. Sweet? Oh my God, Cricket ate the toilet paper, Juno says my big butt is as big as a toy chest and Piper farts like a truck driver….”

“They are good girls and you know it”, Sweetie interrupted. She then gave them each a pat on the head, shook her head at me, and proceeded back to work. All was right in her world. She does not live in mine. The girls waited until Momma was gone, high-fived each other then two big ones grabbed the bedspread in their chops and started to play “toss the little dog in the air”.

I let out a small whimper, kissed each cherubic face then walked slowly back up to the bedroom and got busy. I am the Mommy after all. That is what I do.

Final Destination Part 63 ~ The Death of the Lesbian Housewife

2010-05-28T18:00:00.000-07:00

I recently took a trip out of the Country. I was to be gone for two weeks to visit family. Sweetie did not like this planned time away from each other. She pouted a little bit. I wanted to see my kiddo’s though so I bought the ticket and assured Sweetie that I would be home after just "13 sleeps". I woke early on the day of departure and Sweetie and I headed for the airport. We got close to the airport and I told her which airline that I was flying on. See, Sweetie is a “dropper-offer” at airports. She pulls up to the door, grabs your bags, plants a VERY quick kiss on your cheek while whispering “I love you“, smacks you on the butt, waves and takes off. The first time it happened, I was dismayed and had hurt feelings. The next time I kinda “got it” but it still hurt a tiny bit. This time, I was prepared for it.
“Sweetie”, I said. “You missed the turn for the drop-offs. You will have to go back around.”

“I am parking”, she announced. “I want to walk you in.”

“Huh? Why?”, I asked.

“Because I will miss you and I want to stroll with you into the airport and spend every last minute that I can with you.” She replied.

“What’d I do?”, I asked.

“Nothing, I just want to be with you, Honey”.

“Did you have a premonition, Sweetie? Am I going to die?”, I asked fearfully.

“No, Hon, nothing like that. I just want to be with you as long as I can. OK?”

“You did. You did have a premonition or a dream or something like that. The plane is going down. A bird is going to hit us. I am going to die!” I was getting hysterical.

“No Babe. You are not going to die”, she reassured me as she parked and jumped out for my luggage. “I just love you. Now let’s go.”

She grabbed my hand and we started walking toward the doorway to my Final Destination.

We went to the check-in area and I looked up at Sweetie and said “Thank you for coming this far. I got it now. I will call you when I get to Toronto. I love you. Bye now. Be careful on the way home. See ya…”

“Honey”, she interrupted. “I am going with you as far as they will let me. Don’t you get it? I want to be here with you.”

“What is wrong with you. Are you sick? Are you dying? Or, did you do something? Are you planning to leave me here never to return to get me? What is going on? Is this your way of getting rid of me? ” I was shrieking.

The authorities were starting to look at me now. Crap, I always get the “extra-special” search with the wand since I obviously look the part of a terrorist with my blonde hair, blue eyes, ready smile and southern accent. I am for sure gonna get it again today due to the tone of my voice and the panic on my face.

“Babe, calm down. I just want to be with you. For as long as I can. Nothing else. That’s all. I am going to miss you terribly.” Then she reached down and kissed me. KISSED me. In front of everyone. She does not do that either. A quick peck on the cheek, yes. A full on kiss on the lips, nope, nada, nix, never.

I knew then that she obviously knew something “otherworldly”. She had experienced a trance dream just like Allison Dubois on Medium. She knew that I would never be back and she was trying to make it easier. She was saying goodbye in her own way.

“TELL ME”, I screeched. “Tell me what the hell is going to happen to me. You ain’t fooling me sister. Are there locusts swarms entering the brakes? Did a cat have a litter of kittens in the motor? What is it? Speak!”

“Oh for the love of God”, she said. “You told me that you liked to be walked into the airport. It is important to you. I am trying to give you what you need. That’s all. I promise.”

“Ummm Hmmmm, whatever you say, lie if you want”, I thought. But what I said was, “Thank you honey. That is lovely of you”.

Time had come to go through security. She had to leave me now. “See ya”, I chirped brightly while waving. “Thanks for coming with me. I appreciate you. Buh-bye now.” I was still feeling a bit weird.

“I will miss you Baby”, she said and gathered me in her arms for another loving kiss. “Don't forget to call on your layover. I love you very much.”

That is when I finally got it. Pod people had came in the night and were now in control of my Sweetie. I was not going to die in a plane crash. I was just going to have a pod person as a partner. Could this work in my favor? Maybe. I do not know. This is just all bizarre. I turned to look back one last time, expecting my Sweetie to be long gone. She was not. She was still standing there at the gate jumping up and down, waving and making the “I love you” hand sign to me.

“Oh Lordy”, I said aloud to no one in particular. “She has lost it. The Pod people have complete control of her. What am I to do?“

Then I heard a loud, gruff, female voice, “You, Blondie. Yea you. C’mere. You talking to yourself or to someone else?”

It was a security guard. A very cute, very butch, red-haired, dyke with a big ole wand. She was staring at me as if I was a nutter.

“Umm, myself”, I stammered blushing a bit.

“Come with me then. We need to check you out a bit more closely”, She said.

“Well, alrighty then. What a surprise. Is it the blonde hair? The accent? Lead the way”, I told her.

As we walked off together for my “closer check”, she looked over her shoulder quickly and whispered, “Actually it is the woman you walked up with. Do you know her? The one that is back there skipping around and blowing kisses at you? Is she a danger to you. A stalker maybe?”

I glanced back at my Sweetie. She looked so beautiful. She was trying so hard to give me what I needed. Love filled me all over again. “Oh no”, I assured her. “That is the woman who loves me with her whole heart. Am I a lucky lady or what?”

She looked a bit anxious and not at all convinced of Sweeties sanity as she said , “If you say so. Now, spread’em sweet cheeks and lets see what we find.”

And, with a smile on my face and love in my heart, I did just that.

The trip to the hospital, Part 2 ~ My very own episode of “House”

2010-05-24T14:36:00.000-07:00

I woke up at approximately 7am on my second day in the hospital. My pain meds had worn off, I really had to pee and I could feel people standing over me. I opened one eye. I saw 5 people in white coats. I closed that eye quickly. I opened the other eye. There were 7 white coats on the other side. I slammed the eyes together tightly. I thought I was dead and these people were the ones that had been chosen to greet me. I was frightened.

“Open your eyes, hon”, a female voice said. “You have been asleep for a while now and we need you to wake up.”

I opened them slowly. I was not at all sure if I trusted these people. Geesh, some of them looked young enough to be going to prom this year. Once the eyes were fully opened, I realized that I had entered an episode of House! Right beside me was Dr. Foreman in female form. She was Asian and beautiful and very smart and clearly the “leader” of the group. To her right was Dr. Chase. He was a younger guy with a cute dimple in his chin that looked like he should be riding a surfboard instead of being stuck in the hospital. Then there was Dr. Taub also in female form. This was not a pretty picture. I am certain she is a great Dr. but wow, looking like Taub is a strike against you if you are a female. At the foot of the bed stood Dr. Cuddy. Beautiful woman, very intense, knew what she was doing and kind. On the other side were, among others, Wilson, Cameron, and my fave of them all “Thirteen”. Thirteen is a beautiful, sensuous, bisexual woman. She is HOT. I was a mixture of scared, agitated, awe-struck, in pain and sick as hell.

“How are you this morning?”, Dr. Foreman asked.

“I feel like crap and hurt terribly”, I answered.

“Where do you hurt?”, asked Cuddy.

“My lower back”, I said.

“Here?”, asked Foreman as she slammed her whole forearm through my back at waist level.

“AAARRRGGGHHH”, I answered.

“I take that as a yes”, Cameron said.

“Let’s get her something for pain and then we will go over symptoms”, Foreman interjected.

The lovely, beautiful nurse bustled in with a shot that went right into my IV. Flowers bloomed. A rainbow formed in the corner of my room. All of the dear Drs. were now wearing tie-dyed lab coats. It was vibrant. I loved my room and all of my new friends.

“So, tell me what brought you here”, someone said.

“My Sweeties truck”, I answered smartly.

“No, what symptoms were you having?”

“Aaaah, pain, lots of pain. High fever. Pain when urinating. Urinating is a peculiar word. HAHA. I like pee pee better. Don’t you Dr. Thirteen?”

“Yes, pee pee is a good word, hon. Stay with us now. Any other symptoms?” Thirteen asked.

“Nausea and pain. Did I say pain? You are very cute”, I informed her.

Dr. Thirteen said, “Thank you. Is that all of your symptoms?”

“Yep, I do believe so”, I replied. “Where is Dr. House”

“Huh”, several of the residents said.

“Oh, so this is a secret. No one knows you guys and House are here yet. Cool. You can trust me’, I said. “Shhhhh”, and I locked my lips and threw away the key.

They continued to stand around my bed and go over all of my symptoms and try to figure out which tests to order. I felt very important. While they were talking, I had an epiphany. They always check for one disease in particular on House!. That must be what is wrong with me. They just haven’t thought of it yet.

“Sarcoidosis!”, I bellowed. “That is what it has to be. It is always that. Just ask House. Run the tests! We did it team! Yea”

Taub looked over at Wilson and said, “She is hallucinating. Hit her with the dilaudid again.

Lillies, roses and butterflies filled my room. Dr. Thirteen sat down on the chair beside my bed and stroked my hand. “Don’t worry Hon”, she said. “We’ll find out what this is and fix you right up. Then you and I will run away and get married.”

Hey, these are MY medicated memories. Don’t be a hater.

To be continued….

The trip to the hospital, Part 1 ~ Dilaudid, a girls best friend

2010-05-22T13:35:00.000-07:00

Oh Dear Lord. I just went to the bathroom IV pole in hand, attractive green gown gaping open in the back, bladder screaming, plopped down to pee, felt warm fluid begin to flow over my buttocks, and realized that housekeeping had snuck in like a thief in the night and stuck one of those damn “your toilet was sanitized by…” thingy’s across my toilet seat! In broad daylight. For no good reason. No one else is using my toilet. I’m in a private room. Yuck.
But, I am getting ahead of myself. I have been languishing in the tranquil confines of our friendly neighborhood medical facility for the last five days. I am done! I am over it! I want out of here!

I was transported to said medical facility early on a Tuesday morning by Sweetie. After writhing in pain and screaming for the better part of Monday night Sweetie “threw my ass in the truck and took me to the hospital whether I liked it or not.” I did not like it. I still do not like it. I do not anticipate myself liking it in the foreseeable future.

Sweetie dropped me off at the emergency room door and headed off to work. She does not “do” hospitals. I entered the facility smiling, much like Heath Ledger’s Joker on Batman, through my pain. I saw an “older gentleman” behind the front desk, nodded a “how do ya do”, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shrieked, “I WANT DRUGS!”

I have given birth to three children, never accepting medication with any of them even when the pain was intense. I am older now and much, much wiser and I wanted drugs. Screaming and physical threats seemed to be the only way for me to make the fellow behind the desk understand my needs. I thought that it was working for me until an unpleasant policeman came up behind me, pried my fingers from around the old geezers neck and said, “You must follow procedure.”

I thought I was.

After “following procedure“ with the guidance of the policeman, I was checked in and taken back into an emergency cubicle and told to, “wait my turn.” I did not realize then that “wait my turn” meant : “We will be back in about three hours…If you are lucky.” So much for luck. After several hours and much prodding, poking and questions by numerous people; a young Doctor came in and said, “Well my gosh, can you please get down off of the ceiling long enough for me to assess your pain level? You also appear to be about the color of a tomato so I think you may have a fever as well.”

“Ya think?”, I yelped as I unhooked my nails from the ceiling tiles and slid down the wall.

“Quite possibly”, he replied. “We will check that now”. He jammed a thermometer in my mouth at the same time that he karate chopped my right kidney with enough force to break through 6 concrete blocks. I swallowed the thermometer, screamed a few swear words, and flew right back up to the ceiling shaking like a leaf on a tree during a hurricane.

“On a scale of 1-10, what would you rate your pain?”, he asked.

“47”, I shrieked. “The pain is at a 47”.

“Well, if you could just cough that thermometer back up, we could get a temp on you and perhaps get you something for the pain”, he offered.

I hocked that thing up fast! “104.6. My goodness, you seem to have an infection”, the nurse that caught the thermometer said.

DUH.

“OK, you go pee in this cup while I order up some tests and meds for you and we’ll get you fixed right up”, said the Dr.

“You mean I have to walk? It hurts to walk. It hurts to pee. I can‘t do it”, I whined.

“You want something for the pain then you’ll do it”, He said.

I moved toward that bathroom like Marion Jones when she was still using steroids. The pee was back in his hands in 12.2 seconds.

He looked at the urine and clicked his tongue and said, “My, my. This is bad. Let me get you some meds ordered.”

I lay back and actually felt tears start to roll down my cheeks. I was really hurting badly. My daughter came in about that time and started petting me. She works at the hospital. This is a good thing. People treat you wonderfully when they find out you have family that works there. I looked up into her sweet little face, stroked her cheek, and bellowed “MAKE THEM GIVE ME DRUGS NOW!”

She looked at me kindly and said, “It is on it’s way momma. Just hang on.”

The Dr. came back in, looked me in the eye, and told me that I was not going anywhere. I must stay in the hospital. I was very ill. I begged to differ with him. I wanted an antibiotic and something to stop the pain and I was going home. A tussle ensued. We argued back and forth. He then pulled out a needle and inserted it into my IV.

Life became beautiful. Warmth surrounded me. I saw purple, blue and yellow flowers growing all around me. I fell in love with the cute little bald doctor. I wanted to marry him. I found the hospital and all of it’s inhabitants irresistible . I decided that living here could be a exquisite thing. Dilaudid was my friend.

So this is how I ended up at the hospital IV pole in hand, attractive green gown gaping open in the back, bladder screaming, with pee across my butt. I blame it on the cute little bald Dr. with his blessed hypodermic full of dilaudid.

….To be continued

Happy Mother's Day

2010-05-09T08:36:00.000-07:00

Love surrounds me from every angle. My breathe is coming in short bursts. My heart feels ready to explode. Tears run down my face. Sweetie dabs at them and says sweetly, “Oh honey, why are you crying?”

“This is just so gratifying, so very sweet. I am just so happy. I am loved”, I reply breathlessly.

“Yes, honey, you are loved very much”, she says as she strokes my face lovingly. “Always remember this moment. How you feel. Why you feel this way.” She kisses me pleasurably.

As I finish, I let out a slight yelp. Love engulfs me yet again. I am falling, falling. My heart throbs. I am in love all over again. Just as I fell in love with him over 20 years ago, on the day he was born. My sweet red head. My loving son who is so much like me. Today, on the day that belongs to mothers everywhere, he wrote me a poem. How thoughtful is that?

I had sat down at my computer to work. I opened my email and there in my inbox was this wonderful slip of prose that he had composed just for me. His first love. His momma.

I was euphoric. He writes, just like me. How wonderful. I felt overwhelming joy and knew that I had to share this with everyone. His words speak the truth. They are beauty.

The first 2 lines set the tone for the whole poem. The love that simply dripped from each syllable overwhelmed me. Grab some tissues. You will need them, as did I.

Ode to Mom

You've taken care of me since the day I was born

You told me it was ok when my poop had corn.

Oh my gosh. How breathtaking. Can you feel it? Affection permeates each word.

I used to get a lot of stitches in my head

You couldn‘t see the blood because my hair was red.

Memories, light the corners of my mind. Misty watercolor memories of the way we were. Barbra said it best.

To me you are like the sun and the moon and the stars

You have always supported me even if I wanted to go to mars.

I gave him wings to fly. He appreciates this. The tears begin yet again. His iambic pentameter is perfection.

I haven't seen you in a while and I sure miss you a lot

When we die we will surely share a funeral plot.

He lives in California. So far away, And, he misses me. He wants to be linked with me for eternity. Oh, what a remarkable son. **SOBS**

In my heart you will always stay

And I want you to know that I love you on this happy, happy mothers day.

**Sweetie writing here**
I feel it necessary to step in a finish this for my love. She is in a weeping ball of mush underneath the table. I really don’t get all this sappy stuff and am not sure if she is crying out of happiness or lamenting over the flow of the poem. Anyway, the point is, her son made her happy. And, really, isn’t that what Mother’s Day is all about?

Happy Mother’s Day from the both of us!

Mariachi Karaoke

2010-05-06T11:47:00.000-07:00

Sweetie and I decided to go out on Sunday afternoon just to spend a few hours by ourselves. She was so sweet when she asked me that there was no way that I could turn her down. She looked at me as I was straightening the house and said “Hey, I’m hungry woman. Wanna go get something to eat”

Like I said, she was so sweet that I couldn’t turn her down. “Sure, lets go grab a bite Sweetie. It’ll be fun to eat a meal without dog hair in it.”

We ran upstairs to shower and get dressed, then headed out the door. We got into her truck because she ALWAYS has to drive and pulled into traffic. Then the games began.

“So, honey, where would you like to eat today?, Sweetie asked.

“I am not sure, Sweetie. What would you like to eat?”, I replied.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I am not in the mood for anything in particular? ”

“Me neither”, I said.

“Well, honey, you have been in the house all week. So it is important to me that we go somewhere that you would like to go. So, where is that?”

“I would like to go wherever you would like to go”, I shot back, playing our usual game.

“AAARRGGHHH”, she yelped. “I will turn this truck right around and we will eat peanut butter and jelly if you don’t tell me what you want.”

My phone rang then, saving me from a lunch of PB&J I am sure. It was my daughter. I told her that we were going to eat and she immediately said, ‘OOOOH, you must try Margarita’s. It is delicious.”

Ding, Ding, Ding! Ladies we have a winner. Margarita’s it is! I thanked the daughter immensely and hung up.

We were very close to Margarita’s so Sweetie was OK with eating there. We pulled in, got out and headed up to the door. Right before we were to enter, Sweetie said, “Oh Babe, look right there. How cool is that”

Well, it was not cool at all. It was gross. It was a pig roasting on a stick right in front of the restaurant. Yuck. The worst part was I could see its eyeball! “Gross,” I said. “Are we SURE we want to eat here?”

“Yep”, Sweetie replied. “I think this is a good place.”

“Well, goody for you. I disagree. There is a pig right there looking at me.”

“Oh Honey, just don’t look, You don’t have to eat it or anything”, she assured me as we sat down.

The waiter came over to take our order. Sweetie looked at him with a gleam in her eye and said, “Tell us about your fresh pork specials”.

I ran for the bathroom gagging! When I came back, Sweetie had ordered for both of us. I prayed that there would be no pork. She sat there across from me grinning. She got me. I admit it. But paybacks are hell. I hope she realizes that.

Then I heard it. My chance at redemption. It came in the form of a Mariachi band. Sweetie does not like to be the center of attention. She does not like others to pay attention to her. She hates karaoke and bands that play at your table, Now was my chance. I am not shy. I like music and dancing and being the center of attention. I turned to catch the mariachi bands attention.

“TURN AROUND”, Sweetie hissed at me. “Do not dare get them over here.”

“Huh”, I replied innocently. “I am just watching the provided entertainment. Aren’t they fabulous?”

“I said DO NOT get them over here”, she replied.

“But honey, listen. They are playing the Elmo song.

Elmo wants to be a chicken, Elmo wants to be a duck, bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk
Flap your arms like a chicken, flap your arms like a chicken, bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk
C’mon Sweetie sing with me.”

Sweeties eyes started to change as the Mariachi band began to move towards our table. She gave the evil eye first to me and then the band. Her evil eye is scary. I have seen her frighten off huge angry mobs with that look. But I was on a roll.

“Make a sound like a chicken, make a sound like a chicken , bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk”, I continued with the Mariachi band.

“SHHHHHH”, she hissed. “I mean it.”

Closer and closer the band got to us. The music changed to It’s a small world. You have never really heard It’s a small world until you have heard it sang by a Mexican Mariachi band. I joined in. Sweetie glowered. The band was now at the table right behind us. I was dancing and laughing along with everyone else in the restaurant. Sweetie, not so much.

“Play something we know”, the man at the table behind us said.

“Aaaah, Mariachi Karaoke”, the band leader said. “Everybody sing with us now!”
“When I dance they call me Macarena
And the boys they say que soy buena
They all want me, they can't have me
So they all come and dance beside me
Move with me, chat with me
And if I could I'd take you home with me….”

Woot, woot. The Macarena! I can sing that one too. I can also do the dance. I glanced at Sweetie. There was fire coming from her eyeballs. I stood up to dance anyway. Then I noticed the members of the Mariachi band starting to slink away. They would not make eye contact with us. The evil eye! That is what did it. Sweetie’s evil eye was scaring them off.

“Come back”, I pleaded. “Please let me dance the Macarena. Let me sing. Please come back to our table.”

The band glanced over their shoulders at me then took off in a dead run. “Está señora loca con mal de ojo”, I heard one of them say. I think they called Sweetie a crazy lady with evil eyes or something like that.

“Don’t mess with the best, honey. I’ll beat you every time”, Sweetie announced triumphantly.

“Ahhh, just shut up and eat your pork”, I pouted.

They are my kids. I can do with them as I please.

2010-04-28T11:13:00.000-07:00

I am a momma. I love it. I believe that my children were given to me for many different reasons. A few of these are; unconditional love, to keep me young, to give me grandchildren to spoil and send home and mostly for my own personal amusement. I am very good at using them for my own entertainment. It is enjoyable. I do not feel guilty. They are my kids. I can do with them as I please. Over the years I have embarrassed them for fun and pleasure at will. They have grown to expect it and even look forward to it. I know that because mom’s just know these things. Ask any mother that you know. She will back me up.

Over the years I have been thrown out of ballgames for offering ref’s my glasses, kissed my oldest son right smack on the lips in front of a whole gym full of people because he had the nerve to TELL me not to do it, hung my daughters bra on the antenna of my car right before she and her date, who were both too young to drive, got in for a ride to the movies and chased that same daughter through K-mart with a pair of XXL granny-panties while yelling “Honey, look I found your panties, they fell off in the toy department. Here, come put them back on”, just as she got the nerve to talk to a crush from school. I told you, I am very good at using them for my own pleasure.

Recently, while shopping in Babys-R-Us with my daughter who just found out she was pregnant, I got the chance to again amuse myself. There are so many wonderful tools in that store to work with. First I saw a belly casting kit. Oh yea, this would be good. So I grabbed that sucker and held it high over my head like a football player holding up his MVP trophy at the super bowl.

“Baby, look at this. It is a cast for your boobs and belly so that you can forever be reminded of the gargantuan sizes that they both will reach before you give birth. We must have it!”

“Mom, that is not even funny. I don’t want to be reminded of how big my boobs are right now, much less when I am 9 months along. Just put it down. Now. Walk away. It ain’t happening. Nope”, she replied.

She had a point. She is a little slip of a thing but she has some gigantic boobs already. Has since 5th grade. They have been a great source of hilarity for me. Her, not so much. I can’t imagine her at 9 months and while breast feeding. Geesh. I let that one go.

We looked at strollers, cribs, clothes, and comforter sets. Nothing there to embarrass her with. Then I went up the aisle with all of the stretch mark cream, vitamin E and diaper rash cream. There it was. “New Momma Bottom Spray”. I grabbed the little bottle up and went in search of my sweet girl who had drifted to a more crowded section of the store.

“Sis”, I cried out loudly. “Lookie here what momma found for you. It’s cooter spray. How cool is that. You have to have it!”

“Mother”, she groaned.

She calls me Mother when she gets in a “mood”. She was now in a mood.

“But baby”, I said at full volume. “It is a cooling, soothing cooter mist that helps ease discomfort of postpartum vaginal soreness and swelling. It helps with episiotomies too. You know, that is when the baby is coming out and you are stretched like a too small turtleneck on a linebacker and they slide in some scissors and cut ya. Right there. Just snip, snip and out the baby slides. This will help the soreness after that and you will be sore. I know.”

“MOTHER”, she groaned. “That is enough. I don’t need cooter spray. I am barely pregnant. There is time to worry about that later.”

“But it is on SALE. Clearance sale. We can get all 5 bottles that are left for just $7.00. It is a steal. We must have it all”, I replied.

“SHHHHHH”, she admonished.

I was on a roll now. “Oh my gosh, it also helps with hemorrhoids. You will definitely get hemorrhoids. I got hemorrhoids. Wanna see?“

“Oh God Mom”, she ducked her head. “I do not need cooter spray.”

“But with the cooter spray, relief is only a spray away. You mist as often as you need it, especially after bath or toilet use. Plus it is made with all-natural ingredients, including astringent witch hazel, antibacterial lavender, and cooling peppermint pure essential oils. You can sit easier, feel better – naturally. It says so right here. Just look. We must have all the cooter spray they have. Should I ask if they have any more in the back?”

“Dang it all Momma”, she said. “Put the damn spray in the buggy. Buy what you have. Do not ask for any more. Do not say another word. Just pay for it and let’s go.”

I sat the 5 bottles of “New Momma Bottom Spray” on the counter. I was willing to buy them for the good of my daughter’s cooter. I am very magnanimous. The cashier rang up my purchase.

“That’ll be $7.56 Ma’am”, the cashier said sweetly.

“Okie, dokie”, I replied. “This is some good stuff. It is for my daughter who is right over there hiding behind the big giraffe. See her? Isn’t she cute. She has some big boobs for someone so tiny huh? I bought this cooter spray for her. I sure don’t want her cooter to be all sore and bruised or her hemorrhoids to ache. She is so lucky to have me as a mom so that I can look out for these things. Don’t you agree?”

“Ummm…I suppose. Sure. OK”, the cashier said.

I grabbed up the bag with relish and hollered across the store,” Baby, here is your cooter spray. Don’t be embarrassed. We all have cooters. We feel your pain.”

All I saw was her cute little blonde head disappearing out the automatic door. She can still move very quickly.

As I ran to catch up I heard her talking to her belly, “Don’t worry baby. I’ll never do that to you. I am adopted. I have to be. That woman is not your REAL grandmother. She is just some crazy lady. You’ll be just fine.”

She doesn’t mean that. I know that because mom’s just know these things. Ask any mother that you know. She will back me up.

I gotta plan of my own.

2010-04-27T14:30:00.000-07:00

As you all know due to a prior blog (Please find some "get the cholesterol offa me" chocolate cake), Sweetie has had some trouble with her cholesterol. As the awesome, wonderful, caring girlfriend/partner/whatever that I am, I have been doing all that I can to help her get it under control. I buy all lean meats, fruits and vegetables. I cook with little or no oil. I buy “Heart Smart” everything. And, with the exception of a fruit cobbler or chocolate cake when I have done or said something that needed a bit of a bribe to get out of, I have followed our “Biggest Loser” cookbook to a tee. There have been times when I wanted a big ole bowl of biscuits and gravy, but I have held back and ate grilled chicken instead. My job is to take care of Sweetie and I think I have been doing a damn fine job! I want her to stay around for a while so even though my cholesterol has always been normal, I followed the diet plan as well to support her. I am good like that.
Sweetie had to go back to the doctor recently to check her numbers again and guess what? Her cholesterol had dropped. Yay! That is great. I am proud of us both. We set a goal and followed the plan. No drugs with freaky side effects like “decrease in sexual desire” for my girl. YES!

Imagine my surprise when I had to go the doctor a few days ago for some heart related issues and he looked at me and said, “My, my, your cholesterol is very high. You must get it down.”

WTF, my cholesterol has always bordered on low. I have been following “the plan” and eating well and walking and all that other stuff that I was forcing Sweetie to do. Her cholesterol dropped and mine blew the roof off. Where is the fairness in that. I have been good. HIGH CHOLESTEROL. How? Before I lived on fried food and peanut butter and had low cholesterol. Now I eat grilled or broiled everything with veggies and it shoots up. Again, WTF?

I called Sweetie to tell her what the doctor had said and with a bit of a snigger she said, “Well, it’s not my fault”.

Not her fault? Of course it is. When I was eating my way, the numbers were great. Now that I am eating her way, it is elevated. That makes it her fault. I told her this.

She just laughed and said, “How do you figure? I didn’t do anything.”

“You got high cholesterol and I had to help you and I changed my diet and it all went to hell for me and of course it’s your fault and I gotta go on stupid Zocor which will probably mess up my sexual desire and I like my sexual desire and…. ”, I was yelping in a very high pitch by this time.

“Calm down, Honey”, she said. “I am sure that you will be fine and the medications won’t affect your sexual appetite in any way.”

Very reassuring. Sure it is. Ummm, hmmmm. Whatever. It is my sexual appetite we are talking about here, not hers. She doesn’t know anything. I will have no desire for sex and it is all her and the blasted medications fault.

I know, I will go back to my old ways. That should work. All will be fine. No drugs, just plenty of fried foods and peanut butter. Anyone wanna come over for dinner tonight? We are having fried chicken, mashed potatoes with butter, mac & cheese and for dessert we will have sex since my desire will not be muddled by Zocor! This is MY “Get the cholesterol offa me while still maintaining my sexual desire” plan. Sweetie likes plans and this sounds like the perfect “plan” to me.

Spoiled, the whole lot of them.

2010-04-25T08:14:00.000-07:00

I have come to the conclusion that Sweetie is spoiled. I reached this conclusion upon returning from a 2 week trip to Canada. When I left, there were plenty of groceries and Sweetie and the dogs and cat were fed. When I returned, not so much.

The dogs greeted me at the door with expressions that said, “where were you dear mommy. We have missed you, we love you and we are hungry! Momma is not here with us during the day as you are so we did not get the proper amount of chicken treats. We are dwindling to a skeletonus state. Just look at us.”

Mind you, the dogs are in no danger of shrinking away. They are just spoiled too! They know that I am the soft touch that puts chicken in their bellies for any cute little trick or look they may bestow upon me. I went to get said chicken treats immediately because I did not want any of the little ones to fall over from lack of food and found that there were none. My poor sweet babies.

I then opened the fridge and noticed that there was no food in there either aside from 2 apples, an onion, some minced garlic and condiments out the wazoo. Sweetie was following me around from room to room because she had missed me so much, or so I thought. She looked at me when I opened the refrigerator door and said, “what’s for dinner?” Aha, she missed my cooking.

“Well, Sweetie, we can have fried apples and onions with garlic or we can go get groceries”, I replied.

“Groceries”, she mumbled as if it were a novel idea. “Yes, groceries are good.”

So off to the grocery store we went. I bought all the staples as well as some things that just looked good. Sweetie followed along behind me with a glazed look on her face. She was looking at the food like she was hypnotized. She said the names of everything that caught her eye aloud as if it were a mantra.

“Cheese.” “Butter.” “Milk.”, she chanted.

“Cantaloupe.” Chicken.” “Peas.” People were starting to stare.

“Cake.” “ Ice Cream.” She was beginning to drool.

“Sweetie“, I said gently so as not to scare and confuse her. “I have everything we need. Let’s go get the animals some food now and then we can head home and I’ll cook dinner. OK?”

“Dinner”, she said vacantly with a strange half-smile on her face.

I checked out and paid as Sweetie stared at each item that went down the conveyor, still repeating their names loudly. We then went to the pet store and got chicken treats and food and headed on our way.

Once home, I put up the food, fed the dogs and gave them a chicken treat, much to their delight, then began to prepare homemade Salisbury steaks with mushroom gravy, mashed potatoes, and mixed white and yellow corn. Sweetie stood at the kitchen doorway with her jaw slack, a bit of drool hanging from the lower corner, eyes glued on the food simmering away on the stove. Poor thing. I thought she just might faint dead away from pure bliss.

“Sit Sweetie”, I said when dinner was finished. “We can eat now.”

I sat her plate in front of her and went back to grab mine so that we could dine together after 2 weeks apart. When I turned back into the dining room, her food was GONE! I had been away from the table for 57 seconds and every bite of the food had disappeared. Every bite. Her plate was clean.

“Sweetie”, I said. “Where did your food go? Did the dogs grab it from you? What happened?”

“Ate it”, she mumbled. “All gone gone.” “Yummy, yummy in my tummy.”

She was starting to scare me a bit. “Honey, you mean you ate everything that I put on your plate? In less than a minute, you finished it?”

She shook her head, looked at me with eyes that were now clear and replied in her normal strong voice, ‘Hell yea and it was f ‘ing better than peanut butter and jelly!” She always says the sweetest things.

She then grabbed me up in a bear hug and said, “Never leave me for 2 weeks again, Honey. I love you and I need you.”

“Ummm, hmmmm", I thought. "She loves my cooking. She misses my cooking. Spoiled I tell ya. The whole lot of them. Spoiled."

I can live with that. They are my family after all.

Hello, My name is Max and I have a problem

2010-04-21T14:04:00.000-07:00

Upon returning home from Canada, I was immediately faced with a huge dilemma. My sweet boy had a problem. It had been building for a while. Slowly, slowly getting worse! Sweetie and I had tried to ignore it, had spoke with him about it and had even discussed a medical intervention for him. When I came home the problem had exacerbated to a point where I felt that it was finally time to move forward with getting help for him before it was too late.

“Max”, I said with the Mommy voice that said I was serious but supportive. “It is time. Head out to the car, buckle up and We are going to get you some help for your plight.”

He said nothing. He simply dropped his head and did as he was told. We headed out immediately. I drove him to the arranged meeting place and let him out. He headed in without question. He was ready too; I could feel it! I was so proud of him. I parked the Jeep and headed in to stand in the back of the room for support if needed. I knew I had to let him do this himself, but I am a mom!

He was sitting in a chair on the right side of the semi-circle that was to be his support group. He listened quietly as each of the others introduced themselves and told why they were there. Finally I saw him breathe deeply and I knew that he had gathered his wits and was going to finally open up! My heart skipped a beat. I held my breath. The waiting was intense.

He looked back at me, turned to the group and purred sweetly, “Hello, my name is Max and I have a problem!”

“Hello Max,” the rest of the felines purred.

Max continued with some shame, “I pee on the upstairs hall carpet.”

“MEOWWWW,” the others purred in support.

“I have not always done it. I don’t even want to do it. I just get so angry and strike back in the only way I know how.” He moaned.

“Tell it Max!”, one especially pretty Manx said.

“It all started with those new pups! The Mommas brought them home unexpectedly. For the longest, it was me and my best friend Tita. Tita was wonderful…for a dog! She was my pet! I loved her! When Mommy came to live with Momma, Tita and me, she brought Juno. Juno was a trial at first. She barked too much and she took time away from Mommy sometimes. She was also too damned active and drove me crazy….”

“Speak it!”, said a Tabby sitting to Max’s left.

“…but I got used to her eventually”, Max continued. “Then the puppies came! Oh my God! They were awful! They still are! I just don’t know how to deal with their shenanigans. Then, when Tita died, everything just got worse! So I began to pee on the carpet in the upstairs hall!”

“Let it out”, said a gorgeous Abyssinian.

“The puppies bark at me and chase me. They eat my food, Juno especially, and won’t even let me walk across the living room without attacking me. Piper see’s me walk toward the office and barks loudly so that everyone knows where I am. Cats are supposed to be able to be stealthy…she ruins that! Also, everyone else in the house is female. There are 5 of them and just one little ole me! That is just too much estrogen for one poor guy!”

“ROWWWWRRRR”, the others said in anger.

“The one that they call Cricket puts my whole head in her mouth!”, Max was gathering speed now. “She tries to chew my ears off. I tried to get the Mommas to understand but they just love those big ole dumb dogs so much! So I started pee’ing on the carpet and then…I even started making myself throw-up on that carpet as well. The Mommas were just assuming that I was eating too much but in reality, I am forcing myself to barf just to get attention!”

“Oh, purrrrr baby!”, the Manx said.

I was shocked by this admission. Tears were flowing. I had not realized how hard all of this had been on poor Max. I wanted to pick him up and chuck him under his double chin and tell him that all would be ok but he was on a roll so I let him continue.

“Now, Momma has had to rip up the carpet in the upstairs hall because it smelled bad….”

Aha, that explains all the mess in the living room and upstairs…but more on that later!

“…and she was grumbling about sending me to an “old kitties home” and I am not even that old. I am only 7. I am just pissed off. Everything has changed. Tita is gone! That little yappy dog, Juno, lives here now. Cricket and Piper are too big and they act like they run the place! Do they not realize that I am in charge. Everyone knows that cats are much more intelligent that dumb ole dogs. EVERYONE!”

“Amen!” said the other mousers.

“I had to get the Mommas attention. So I did what I had to do. Does anyone even get that?”, he meowed out loudly.

The other pussy’s wiped their eyes. I could not help myself and I ran over to Max and grabbed him up, “I am so sorry that we did not get how much the dogs bother you. You are an important part of the family. We all love you Max! You will stay with us as long as you live. I will talk to Momma! You will never have to go to an “old kitties home”. Please forgive us!”

“It’s ok Mommy. I understand that humans make mistakes. Just keep those big ole dumb dogs in check and everything will be ok now.” Max purred

“Of course, Max, anything you need’, I assured him.

As we left the room I felt him looking back toward his new friends. He winked slyly.

I stroked his back, feeling such relief. He would be ok. Our household would go back to normal. Life was good again…well except for the mess that was now our living room and upstairs hallway.

“Purrrr-fect”, said the leader of the group. “She fell for his sob story. We did our job! He will once again rule that household! When will humans realize that not only we smarter than dogs. We are also smarter than them! Stupid humans!”

The group twittered.

“Yeaaa”, purred the Tabby. “So, who is next on our list Should we help the Persian that is gnawing her fur out because of the new bird in her home or the Balinese that is eating the fluff out of the pillows because he hates the new baby that his family just brought home?”

“The Balinese definitely”, the leader said. “Now, everyone raise a paw to Max!”

“Here’s to Max”, the group cheered. “May he once again show everyone that CATS RULE!!”

And They Call It Puppy Love...

2010-04-16T12:19:00.000-07:00

Wow! So, Mike Huckabee has figured me out. I thought I had kept my darkest secrets hidden so well. But apparently he is all-knowing as he figured out that my secret desire is to marry my pet!

There! I said it out loud! I have loved her for over two years now. She is sweet and shiny and loving and kisses me whenever I am sad. She comforts me and cuddles me anytime I need her. She never asks questions and always agrees with me. She is perfect! Why should I not be allowed to marry my sweet little min/pin. Her brown eyes are so very soulful.

That’s right - Huckabee figured out that all of my efforts in support of gay marriage were, in fact, a thinly veiled attempt to get one step closer to being able to have my relationship with my adorable pup sanctioned by the church and legally recognized by both State and Federal governments.

What an idiot! Comparing gay marriage to incest, polygamy, and bestiality as Huckabee did in a speech given to journalism students at the College of New Jersey in Ewing, NJ, last week is just ignorant. Gay marriage hurts no one. These other acts do. Gay marriage is about love, respect, and honor. Incest, bestiality, and even polygamy are about power and dominance, not love.

Mr. Huckabee, I invite you to do your research. Read. Get to know some gay and lesbian couples and their families. Figure out who they are and what they are about and search your heart for understanding and some love of your own. Stop being so judgmental and learn to live and let live. I will keep you in my prayers - Yep, believe it or not, many gays and lesbians do attend church and pray! And if I do ever decide to marry my dog, you will be the first on my guest list. We’ll be registered at PETCO.

**This blog was posted first on GAY-e-magazine's blog . Please go there to see this and many other funny, relevent, or political musings by GAY authors!

Some people just have no sense of adventure

2010-04-14T09:30:00.000-07:00

The text message said simply, “tell me some of that blog was b.s.”.

The text was from Sweetie and came in fairly quickly after I posted the: Saskatchewan in the Springtime Or Skunks and Blizzards and Kerosene, Oh My! blog. I told her to walk away. I told her not to read it. I follow directions most of the time, why can’t she? Hrrruummpphh. She was a bit testy. I could tell by the tone of the text. Some people can’t hear tones in texts, I can! Hers was not nice! I could not text her back because being out of the country, it costs an arm and a leg so I knew that I had to call her. Yayy.
Whoopee. Yippee.

I picked up the phone and slowly dialed her work number. She couldn’t get too angry with me there. Too many people around. HA…good idea! The phone rang, she answered, I chirped brightly, “Hi Sweetie. How are ya?”

Silence.

Uh-oh.

“So, are you having a good day at work, Babe?”, I asked.

Not a word.

“Hello”, I squeaked.

“Just tell me you made some of it up”, she finally said.

“Nope”, I said brightly. “I even left some out. I didn’t tell about the kerosene eating through the wiper blades so that there was a film and streaks on the window at all times or about the off ramp that was barricaded that we went around anyway because we didn’t know any other way to get where we needed to go or ….”

“STOP”, she growled through what I assumed were gritted teeth. “Not one more word…”

“But don’t ya wanna hear about the time we almost went in the ditch and there were these cows…”, Sometimes I just don’t know when to shut my mouth.

“I am calling the airport. You are coming home. You can’t be trusted to stay out of trouble. Geeze! What were you thinking?” She said.

I am not flying home yet. But, tonight, I am going to a séance! Wait until Sweetie gets a load of that!

Some people just have no sense of adventure!

Saskatchewan in the Springtime............or..............Skunks and Blizzards and Kerosene, Oh My!

2010-04-13T11:55:00.000-07:00

I am out of the country for a couple of weeks. I am on a business/pleasure trip and my Sweetie is not with me. This can cause some problems. Sweetie does not like me to be gone from home more than 3 nights. She pouts a bit. She also knows me! She knows that I love a bit of an adventure. She is not a fan of my adventures. As a matter of fact, she absolutely hates them! I have a tendency to strike out on my own just to explore. She does not like me to go to the store after dark by myself! Well, suffice it to say, last night was an adventure of epic proportions! Sweetie will not be amused!

“Sweetie, if you are reading this…STOP!”

“I mean it…just turn off the computer!”

“That a girl…hit the back button…you can do it”

“Read no further…I was good…I promise…sorta…”

OK, so now that Sweetie went away, I can tell you about my Escapade in Saskatchewan. My daughter-in-law (DIL) and I started out on a business trip to Regina last evening at about 6pm. It is a 2 hour drive. In good weather. If you can follow directions. If you have a sense of direction. Three stikes. We should have known better!

The trip out there was rather uneventful if you don't count the fact that we headed the wrong way out of town and had to do a clover leaf to get back on the highway headed in the right direction. The weather was cold but clear. We made fairly good time, met with our client and got ready to head back when my DIL decided she would like to run by Tim Horton’s Coffee for a hot chocolate and a muffin. We headed toward the edge of town and saw one with a drive-thru, pulled in and got our order to go. Then, something strange happened. When we pulled back on the road out of town, we ran smack up on a skinny little pole that had not been there just minutes ago…there were several of them right in the middle of the road…poles with no lights. It was after 9pm and dark. Who the hell in their right mind runs out and sticks little poles in the road in the dark. Anyway, we almost cut the car in half. After cursing very loudly and trying to make sure that we had not pee’d our pants, we headed on out of town. We did not know that the poles were the entrance to some type of vortex and we had just entered the twilight zone (TZ)!

Within minutes of entering the TZ, we noticed that it had begun to spit snow. Oh, how lovely. A bit of snow for our ride home! Fun! We turned up k.d. Lang’s “Halleluiah” and sang lustily along. Then came the lightening and rain…just 15 minutes away from the cute little snow spits.

“What the hell”, asked my DIL.

“I don’t know. You live here not me. Is this normal?”, I replied.

Then it just stopped. No precipitation whatsoever. We breathed a sigh of relief and sang along with Miley Cyrus as she made “The Climb”. Our good fortune lasted for about another 15 minutes as we worked our way through songs by Nickelback and Charice, then BAM! Snow hit us hard!

“Don't you people have weather warnings up here”, I asked. “If we were going to have weather like this, they would break in on every station and alert the entire USA!”

“Well, no, not unless it is going to be bad….”

“BAD…”, I screamed. “I can’t see the road! That is BAD!”

She giggled.

I glared!

We were crawling along at that point and our trip was stretching interminably. I was beginning to doubt that I would ever see my Sweetie again. Did I mention that I only had a light khaki jacket? And, that I wore short sleeves and ballet flats with no socks. I am from Florida. I don’t do cold, freezing, snow! GAH!

Again, just as suddenly as it had all started, it stopped! I told you, vortex! We were picking up speed again and making up some lost time when we saw a big double tanker ahead of us with flashing yellow lights.

“What the hell is that?”, the DIL said.

“I don’t know…ummm…flashing lights”, I said smartly!

There seemed to be smoke coming out the top of the truck and it was warbling funny, so we decided to pass it quickly. As we went by it, we noticed that there was not smoke coming out of it at all but liquid. Not good. Really not good. The liquid sprayed our tiny little car with a mist and we were suddenly enveloped in the smell of kerosene! GREAT! Our car was covered in kerosene. How lovely. We started to giggle. This was not really happening. It just could not be…we were having the same dream! Surely that was what it was.

Then, it really hit. SNOW! Big ole honkin’ white flakes flying at us with a force that I had never felt before. The winds started whipping us around on the road. Blowing us too and fro. All I could think to say was, “Well, at least the snow will wash off the kerosene and if some idiot flicks a cigarette out the window, we won’t go up in flames!”

My DIL looked at me like I had 2 heads and replied, “There is not really a chance of that due to the fact that we seem to be the only car on the freaking road except for a wonky kerosene truck that is spraying everywhere. There are not even houses on this road! Have ya noticed…huh? Have ya? We are the only ones out here. We are all alone in this white-out…do ya get it?”

“Well, don’t get hysterical, geesh”, I said. “You really need to meditate more!”

Then I spotted a sign on the side of the road with a moose on it. FUN! “Hey”, I said. “Do ya think we might see a moose? How fun would that be?”

“We can’t even see the road. How would we see a moose unless we hit it? Then we would not have a vehicle because moose are HUGE…DO YOU HEAR ME…HUGE! Really big, mean, ugly, freaky animals that would break this tiny little car in half”, she yelled.

“But it would be cool to see one”, I pouted.

Once more, the snow stopped and within 10 miles lightening started. Kanye West started rapping about gold-diggers and we joined in. The wind picked up and made us feel as if we were on the tilt-a-whirl. We thought the worst of it was over. We should stop thinking! Someone in the heavens of the vortex which we were caught in dumped a huge bucket of snow right on the highway in front of us. Covering everything in sight. The DIL yelped, “Can you see the road?”

“Not very well, but enough to know that we are not on it!”, I answered.

“Oh My Good Lord, this is just not right! Not even for Saskatchewan. This is too weird.”

“Well, what should….”, I started.

BUMP…SWOOSH….

“OH LORD, what did I just hit?”, she bellowed.

“A moose” I said excitedly as I was rolling down my window to look. “Oh, no, not a moose. Definitely not a moose. You hit a skunk!”

Stench filled the car! The DIL and I now smelled of a mixture of sweat, kerosene and skunk. Eau de Kero-skunk!

This time the snow did not let up. It came all the way home with us which took over 3 hours. We reached home at about 1 am, got out of the car and kissed the soggy, wet, ground and thanked the heavens for allowing us to escape the vortex from Saskatchewan Hell. Then we went in and did the only thing we could think to do. We fell in the floor in a fit of giggles that lasted for a good half hour and had us both rushing to the bathroom several times to keep from peeing our pants.

What an adventure! I love adventures. Sweetie ain’t gonna be happy about this though. Not happy at all. I told her that I would be good. I tried. Really I did! Maybe she walked away from her computer and didn‘t read this…one can hope.

Hmmm. I wonder what we have planned for tonight. Anyone up for a real, old fashioned moose hunt??

Honey, there’s a train in the bedroom!

2010-04-06T10:32:00.000-07:00

I am preparing to go out of the country for 2 weeks. I am very excited to be visiting my kiddos! I am not, however, thrilled about leaving my Sweetie! Nor is she thrilled to have me going for that long.
We are still in the “I’ll miss you!”…
”I’ll miss you more!”…
”No, I’ll miss you more, Baby!”…
”No, Sweetie, I love you. I’ll miss you MOST!”
“But I LOVE you most so I’ll miss you the most!”

Yeah, yeah, I know…“EWWWW“…“YUCK“…“GROSS“…we are a wee bit sickening! We know it! We do not care. So there!

I am leaving on Thursday so this past weekend was just for me and Sweetie! We cuddled on the couch and watched movies on Friday night. Then we went to bed rather early and to sleep very late…if you get my drift…“WINK, WINK“!

Saturday morning we slept in, which we rarely do, then I got up and fixed chocolate muffins for my Sweetie’s breakfast…then we went back to bed…but not to sleep…“POW“! This continued throughout the day. I felt like a teenager; and a randy one at that! She would walk by, slap my butt and “ZING“…off to bed we’d go! I would walk by, breathe in her direction while heading down to do laundry, and “KAPOW“…sex on the ottoman in the basement! The dogs would bark and we’d go to the dining room to look out the sliders to see what was going on and “BAM“…sex on the table! The wind would blow and “WHOOSH“…sex on the stairs! Nothing or no where was safe. “BOFFO“!

After a long and exhausting day, we went BACK to bed and watched a movie while snuggling and talking. After a while things started to heat up again. “KABLAM“! I had forgotten that this could happen this much in one day…I had forgotten that I ever wanted it to. I am not sure that I ever did! But “SHAZAM“! This rocked! All of a sudden I felt Sweetie start to shake…hard…really, really hard! “ZAP“! This really is most excellent! Then I heard laughter! Very, very boisterous laughter! She was rocking and shaking and hooting and still carrying on with what we were doing. “BUZZZzzzz….kill“! I stopped…“SPLAT“…and asked, “What’s so funny?”

She was laughing so hard by then that she could hardly breathe. She shook like there was an earthquake directly underneath our bed… “RUMBLE”!

“YOU”, she spit out between breaths. “You are what’s so funny!!”

“KERPLUNK“…”Excuse me”, I said. “What’d I do?”

“You don’t know? “ She giggled. “Didn’t you hear yourself?”

“Well, no, I wasn’t exactly listening to myself!” I was a little mortified but started to giggle a bit myself cuz Sweetie just could not stop chortling and I catch the giggles really easily!

“As you finished”, she said still chuckling, “you screamed WHOOOO WHOOOO! You sounded like a train tearing through the bedroom”.

The laughter started again. I joined in! We snorted until tears were streaming down our faces. We held each other. We made train noises…”WHOOO, WHOOO…chooo, chooo, chooo, chooo…WHOOO, WHOOOOO!” We whooped harder! Her butt fell off the bed. We guffawed!

She looked at me, still laughing and with tears streaming down her face, and declared, “Oh Honey, I am going to miss you so much!”

“I love you and I’ll definitely miss you the most Sweetie”, I professed.

“But I love you more…..”

“Just kiss me”, I responded. “WHOOO, WHOOO!!!”

"Vagazzaling..not for us!"

2010-04-02T12:30:00.000-07:00

“Turn over here babe and get those drawers off!”

These nine little words began our night of much anticipated “vagazzaling”. Isn’t that romantic? Doesn’t that make you want to “vagazzale” someone or get “vagazzalized” yourself? Oooooh baby, such sweet, sexy, romantic words! Whatever…it worked for me! So I turned right on over and whipped my panties off and said “Go for it Sweetie”. That’s when I noticed that she had put a “breathe~right” strip on her nose. I told you, sexy!

She took the pretty pink and purple jewels that I was holding out to her and started trying to open the package. Who would have thought that the little gems were packaged in Teflon? Holy cow! It took us both 15 minutes and a few broken nails to get into them!

**Note One ~ Open gems before beginning said “vagazzaling”. It will save lots of time!

Once we got the jewels opened, Sweetie gazed at me with a look in her eyes that scared me a little bit. She looked a bit possessed! She was going to do this thing and do it right. I was in trouble! She took the first jewel out and sat back on the bed, looking at my “bits” much as Picasso must have looked at a blank canvas. After about 3 minutes, she put the teeny-tiny, itty-bitty pink dot tight below my belly button and said triumphantly, “Perfect!” I started to feel the giggles well up in my tummy and tried very hard to swallow them down. She was serious about this!

The next gem to be placed was a purple heart. She took a few LONG moments and then pressed it midway between my belly button and my V-Jay Jay. It fell off. She pressed again and asked “Does this hurt?”

“No,” I assured her. “It’s ok”.

“The sticky stuff is not working”, she said while pressing harder. “Is it hurting now?”

“Only the part where your thumb is in my APPENDIX!”, I yelped.

“Oh, sorry”, she replied while pulling back just a little. “The damn thing won’t stick!”

“Use a different one”, I begged.

“But this is the perfect one,” she pouted.

“There is another just like it. I am sure it’s sticky stuff will work and I won’t have to have a appendectomy", I screeched.

“It’s ruined”, she said. “Just ruined. This is the perfect one for the plan I have! If I don’t use it, it will all be ruined!”

“Then, for Pete’s sake, get something that will make it sticky!”, I beseeched.

**Note two ~ Make sure that you check the sticky level of jewels before you try using them or you could end up with fingers inside your body from places where there are no holes. You may also lose various body parts and lots of blood. All of these things are decidedly un-sexy!

Sweetie went downstairs to find something to make the perfect purple heart stick while I wiped the tears from my eyes and the blood from my stomach. Boy this vaggalizing was fun! Woo hoo! I heard Sweetie coming back. She had her arms filled with various “sticky makers”. She had a jar of honey, some chocolate frosting that she had scraped off of the chocolate cake that I made for her several days before, a jar of crunchy peanut butter, a tube of super glue, some weird substance from the garage that was rather scary looking, and thumbtacks!! Good grief, she WAS taking this very seriously! I was way past scared now! I was at the petrified point and heading south fast!

“Honey”, I asked her with fear in my voice. “Can’t we just use the other purple heart in the package? Please?”

She glared. I shut up.

She started with the honey. I was so happy that I almost burst into tears. I just knew she would start with the tacks! The honey didn’t work very well as the heart just floated around on my stomach. I began to sweat. She tried the chocolate frosting next. It glopped up around the heart and obscured the shape completely. That detracted from the perfectness of her planned pattern so she wiped the heart clean and then wiped the sweat from my forehead and grabbed the peanut butter. It worked. I did burst into tears of relief at that point. She looked victorious!

After that, she began to work a bit faster. She was now a woman on a mission. She had a configuration in her mind and nothing would sway her from it. Somewhere along the way, this had turned into a task for Sweetie! She was bent over my crotch with a breathe-right strip on her nose working with all the intensity of a surgeon doing a liver transplant! I started to laugh! Loudly!

“What is so funny?” She asked.

“You, this, us, everything”, I giggled!

“This is not funny. I am working hard here. I have to do this right!”, She countered.

**Note Three ~ Make sure that you explain to your very black and white, task oriented girl-friend that the object of this is FUN! Not a “task to be completed”!

Sweetie finished right about then with a flourish. “Look Babe! I did it! It is creative and I did it! Wanna see?”

“Oh, yes, baby”, I sniggered. “I am dying to see your masterpiece!”

“It is a masterpiece!”, she muttered. She was so not seeing the humor in this whole thing. She handed me the mirror. She had made a perfect pattern! She was a master-vagazzalizer!

I started guffawing! I laughed so hard I had to run to the bathroom to keep from pee’ing on myself. When I returned, Sweetie was sitting in the middle of the bed looking very dejected. “What did I do wrong?”, she asked.

“Nothing honey, you did nothing wrong! There is no wrong. Just look at us…You are sitting in the middle of the bed with a breathe-right strip on your nose, sweat pouring from your forehead, hands shaking from being so precise, surrounded by various food products, glue, tacks, and gems. I have blood pouring from my belly, purple and pink jewels sticking to my tummy and crotch…some with peanut butter…THIS is funny, honey! We are funny. Laugh…haha…c’mon Sweetie”, I cajoled.

**Note four ~ Remember to laugh! Always!

I saw her start to shake. “Oh God, did I hurt her feelings?”, I thought. And then I heard a huge belly laugh as she reached up and grabbed me and threw me down on the bed. “So, can I make love to you now baby?” She asked, still chuckling. She really is romantic…and sexy as hell!

“I would love nothing more, Sweetie! But first get these damn sparkly things off of my tweeter!”

And she did!

Doing my part for the "ALV"

2010-03-31T11:25:00.000-07:00

I am about to head to town to purchase some gorgeous, colorful, vivid, pre-pasted jewels so that Sweetie and I can do our part for ALV or “The Advancement of Lesbian Vagazzalization”. I feel it is our civic duty to bring this activity to the lesbian community much as Jennifer Love Hewitt brought it to the heterosexual community. Sweetie, however, does not necessarily feel the way that I do. I do believe her words were something like, “You are one crazy woman!”

Ahhh, well, I know that it is my duty to share with the world the things that I find intriguing, stimulating, fascinating and interesting. Sweetie just does not understand that yet. She will. I hope. Soon. Until then, I will just hold her hand and lead her happily down the path of discovery. Whether she wants to travel that path or not. She will do this with me and she will enjoy it! I know she will. I will make her...errrr...I mean make sure that she enjoys herself...ummm...hmmm!

As I go forth on my treasure hunt, keep my Sweetie in your thoughts and prayers. I think she is a bit scared. Don’t worry about me though. I know that I am doing my part for the ALV. It is my duty. My obligation. My responsibility. I am not afraid!

Sweetie: The Anti-Pisces

2010-03-29T21:20:00.000-07:00

The decision has been made! Sweetie and I will be going to P’Town for our vacation this year! We will be going for Women’s Week. How cool is that? I have never been there. Sweetie has, one time, the first year we started dating. This time will be way more fun for her I hope. We had been trying to decide between Europe or P’Town. Sweetie was leaning toward Europe and I was, of course, leaning the other way. We discussed it! We worked it out. We made the decision as a couple! How exciting! I was just thrilled that we made the decision. I thought we were done…finished…complete…concluded! You see, I am a true Pisces. I am a bit wishy-washy, a dreamer, I fly by the seat of my pants. I am romantic, somewhat unrealistic and a bit impractical. I thought if we had made the decision…we were done! However, even though Sweetie is a Pisces as well, someone forgot to tell her this at birth. She is very much a practical person. She is incredibly realistic, tremendously black and white in her way of looking at things and she plans everything right down to the minute detail. There is nothing wishy-washy about her at all! She is the Anti-Pisces! She came to me and told me that since we had decided where to go, that it was time to decide where to stay, what to drive when we get there, when to fly out, what side trips to take, the entertainment schedule, everything!! We had to do this NOW?? 6 ½ months before the actual vacation? 27 ½ weeks? Approximately 205 days? Right at 4,920 hours? Holy cow! We gotta do it right this minute? This very second? Right NOW??? We have just a wee bit of time left before we actually leave.

“The first thing that we need to do is make a list of what we want in an Inn/hotel/bed and breakfast”, she said

“Oh dear lord”, I thought. “Another list!” But I said aloud, “Oh, good idea honey. You go to upstairs to the office and work on your list and I’ll hang out down here and work on my list and then when we are both finished, we will come back together and merge the two and have the perfect room! Sound good?”

“I am glad to see that you are taking this so seriously”, she said happily, if a bit incredulously. “Sounds like a plan!”

So off she went upstairs. I could hear her working right away. I got my yellow legal pad (I have a thing for yellow legal pads) and my mechanical pencils. I sat down on the couch, turned on the TV and proceeded to get lost in a rerun of “The Breakfast Club”. “The Breakfast Club” is one of my all time favorite movies. I think it is quite possibly the best movie EVER. Molly Ringwald rocks! For the next hour and a half, I was absorbed in the angst that I had felt as a teen! I also polished my fingernails and toenails but then decided that I was too old for the bright green that I had used and redid them using purple! It was the perfect color so I used it on the dogs as well! I did use this time to think of all of my wants and needs for the “Inn/hotel/bed and breakfast” too. See, I remembered what I was supposed to be doing…most of the time! I wrote a few things down then scratched a couple out. Wrote down a couple more and then decided to bake cupcakes.

Next I decided to change purses. They gray one is starting to go out of season and I just bought this really cute white one with a big heart/flower on it. It is sooooo adorable! I noticed the cupcakes were finished baking so I got them out, frosted them and thought some more about what I am looking for in a room for vacation. I figured that if I took Sweetie up a cupcake and peeked over her shoulder that I might get some ideas off of her paper. No such luck. She grabbed that cupcake, accused me of cheating, slapped me on the butt and kicked me out of the office. “Hrrrummmppphh!”

Back downstairs I went, pouting a bit. I saw a copy of “People” magazine laying on the dining table and thought that maybe it would have some ideas for vacation rooms in it…or at least some juicy gossip…sounded good to me, so I read it! Wow, there was some really juicy gossip this week. Not so much on the vacation front though!

Finally, after about 4 hours, Sweetie called down that she was finished. I told her that I was too and that we could now “merge”! She told me to bring my stuff up to the office. I grabbed my yellow legal pad and my pencils and headed up there. Oh. My. God. I walked in and she had put together a complete PowerPoint presentation ready for my perusal. I pulled my legal pad to my chest tightly and watched as she started to go through everything that was important to her in picture format!

*Deck or Balcony
*Close to town
*Right off of Commercial St/Within Walking distance of “hub” of town
The music started playing here….
*Queen or King Bed with at least 800 thread count sheets
*Flat Screen TV
*DVD
*Fireplace
*Private Bath
*Parking
*4+ Stars
Music built to a crescendo….
*Must be soundproof so that others can’t hear us…or rather me…what can I say about that one???
*Refrigerator
*Air Conditioner
*Water View
*Down Feather Pillows and comforter
*Terrycloth Robes
*Sofa (does not have to be brown leather)
*High tea served
I totally faded out here…not sure what else followed…
*Blah, blah, blah….

After Sweeties presentation finished, she looked at me with pride in her eyes and asked, “Where is your list honey so that I can merge the two and we can actually take a look at the perfect place to stay on our flawless vacation.”

I looked at her, smiled a tiny smile, tore off a single sheet from my yellow legal pad and handed the page to her. She looked down at it and began to systematically tear her hair out of her head. “This is it?”, she asked. “This is ALL you want?”.

I looked at my paper. It read, “Bathtub”.

“Yep, that about does it!” I replied enthusiastically. “You know I love me a good, hot bath!”

She let out a primal yell and jumped from the office window. It took me almost an hour to find her and another 30 minutes to pry her hands from around a tree in the neighbors yard. She will be ok though. I am quite sure of it. After all, Pisces are quite resilient! Even the Anti-Pisces!

Let's get "Vagazzalized"!!!

2010-03-26T14:43:00.000-07:00

Talking about the candy booby tassels and fetishes yesterday made me think about the things that Sweetie and I have in the nightstand drawer. So, I decided to go through it. A very interesting assortment I must admit. The 1st thing that I pulled out was MORE candy booby tassels! These booby tassels are made out of the same candy that those candy necklaces that you loved as a kid are made of! Good Lord my Sweetie is going to become diabetic!
*Note to self: Look for booby tassels that are sugar-free or made out of healthy things like peanuts or carrots or something.

Next was an issue of Cosmo with Megan Fox on the cover with a story about “Bad Girl Sex”. Gotta admit, it was Megan that made me buy the magazine. Not the "12 moves that will show your REALLY naughty side".

After that came 17 candles and a blindfold in a pink bag. Hmmm…not sure what all that was meant for…but it may be worth revisiting!

Then there was a coupon book. It looked interesting!
**“Wake me up with morning sex before work”. YES! I like the mornings. Mornings are good…as are afternoons and evenings and nights and well…anytime!
**”Let’s get sweaty and have sex in an over-heated room.” Not so much. I sweat like a pig….yea, yea, I know pigs don’t sweat…whatever….Sweating is not attractive on me. Trash that one!
**”Pick something delicious from the fridge and eat it off my body”. HECK YEA BABY…make it chocolate and you got a deal!
**”Talk dirty to me on the phone”. Great, just what I want all the ladies at Sweetie’s office to hear…and I’d get the giggles anyway…I am a giggler!

Moving on…Sweet Licks Warming Liquid in Cherry flavor. I can’t resist…I take a little nip…not so much cherry flavored as ummm…icky cotton candy that is way past the time it should be eaten. It did warm up quite nicely though. That works for me!

Then there were 6 bottles of massage oil in various scents…one made by “Sexy Bitch”…alrighty then! That’s a name ya won’t soon forget. By the way, did I mention before that Sweetie loves her a massage???

A feather. That’s mine. I love it. 'Nuff said!

A giant set of dice came next. One with body parts such as “face”, “chest”, “legs” and “surprise” on it. The other had directives such as “”Massage my” (Sweetie’s fave), “Kiss my”, “Tickle my” and, again, “Surprise” (My fave…go figure).

There is also a Bold Strokes book of short stories entitled “Change of Pace: Erotic Interludes” by Radclyffe. This is very informative, educational bedtime reading just in case you are wondering. Kinda goes with the educational television we watch in bed!

There was various other fun stuff and toy’s…heeeheee…My Sweetie hates when I use the word “toy’s”…It makes me giggle though! There were also more magazines and some of what my Sweetie calls “Gossip Rags”. OK, I admit it, they are mine….all mine!

Something caught my eye and I started flipping through an issue of one of these gossip rags, “People”. And there she was. Jennifer Love Hewitt. OH. MY. GOD. She is so pretty. I admit to a tiny little crush on her. I actually got to meet her once when I was in Los Angeles with my son. Lordy! Her boobs have a life of their own! Anyway, while reading the article, I came upon some of her “nightstand drawer” secrets…and one stuck out…glaringly! Jennifer has invented “vagazzaling”. You know the old bedazzling that we used to do to our jeans and other clothing; when we put all the pretty sparkly jewels on ANYTHING and EVERYTHING! Well, it is the same thing except she puts the little jewels on her V-Jay Jay…or rather, she has a lady come in to do it for her! A LADY. COME’S IN. AND PUTS JEWELS….ON HER V-JAY JAY!! Who want’s THAT job??? How does one get into that line of work? Are there classes? How would it be listed in the phone book? What would your job title and description be? Are there many jobs available for “vagazzalizers”? Does it pay well and are there benefits aside from the very obvious ones?

I did do a bit of research and “Love”, as she is known, does NOT use the bedazzler machine thingy that punched holes…thank the dear Lord! She uses the little pre-glued jewels. Now, I realize that it may be cute to dazzle up the old V-Jay Jay, but is it safe? And, I do not mean safe for the person being vagazzalized but for the person that will be ummmm…reaping the benefits of the vagazzilization. I mean, seriously, I have heard an old joke about “that thing has teeth”…but it could really feel like it did with bunches of jewels glued all around, over, and inside…“ewwww“…

I have decided that in the interest of research for all of my fellow lesbian sisters, I will volunteer to add the jewels to our nightstand drawer of tricks and let you all know how it works out! I am willing to step forward and be vagazzalized. To allow tiny little gems of varying shades to be placed in lovely shapes around my Tweeter. I know that you must all be thinking how unselfish I am and how grateful you are that I am willing to do this for the advancement of my people. Thank you. Thank you for realizing how much I am willing to give to the lesbian, heck the whole female, community. To the world even!

I must go forth now. Go forth to stock up on pre-glued jewels of various sizes and colors for my Sweetie’s pleasure. I will be vagazzalized and present myself and my womanhood in all of its vagazzalized glory to my Sweetie as a gift. A dazzling, sparkly, vivid gift. I will then get back to you all and let you know how it goes and if the jewels can make their way into the nightstand drawer alongside the feather, the dice, the massage oil, books, etc. And maybe, just maybe, the jewels will make their sparkly way into your drawer and onto your V-Jay Jay’s as well! Wish me well…

Hurry home Momma!

Educational Television and the Smell of Pillows at Midnight

2010-03-25T13:11:00.000-07:00

Sweetie and I love both reality and educational television. We actually became a couple by watching a season of “Survivor”. Don’t laugh. You can really get to know another person by seeing if they pull for the “good guy” or the “bad guy”, like to “blindside” people by lying to their face and then voting them off, or if they would eat sea slugs mixed with urine “for the good of the team”! It can really show you who they are…inside! Anywho, we love all things reality including “The Biggest Loser”, “American Idol“, “The Amazing Race”, and anything on “HGTV“! We also love educational television like “The History Channel”, “Discovery”, “TLC” and, again, anything on “HGTV”! Imagine our joy when, while laying in bed a few nights ago, we found a very educational and entertaining reality television show.

We were laying together, flipping through the channels trying to find something to watch before going to sleep. Suddenly, there it was! A show about fetishes! How educational! It actually showed us how other people live out their fantasies and fetishes in day to day life. There was a girl who was a fire dancer and boy, could she dance! She belonged to a group that did fire dancing sex shows. Did you know there was such a thing? See, educational, right? They danced while putting fire in strangely intriguing yet equally gross places, then having sex while twirling fire around themselves. Sweetie and I watched in horror/fascination and decided that while fire did seem a bit sexy, we did not have a fire fantasy/fetish. Burning flesh is not sexy to me…and Sweetie does not like to smell yuckie stuff and I am sure burning flesh would smell a bit yucky!

Next up in fantasy land were folks who wanted to dress like and be treated like babies. Now, I do not judge…but, it ain’t happening here! These folks really were treated like babies while dressed in diapers and booties and such. They pee’d in the diapers, ate mashed up food, and talked baby talk. Their “mommies” changed them, spanked them and took them for walks. Then they would have sex while remaining in baby/mommy roles. Wow…who knew? Again, educational huh? Sweetie and I decided that this was definitely not for us! I am not peeing in nor wearing a diaper. Sweetie said “gross babe” while watching so I assume that she is with me on the whole diaper thing. Again, no judgment, just personal choice!

This led to a talk about whether or not Sweetie or I had a fantasy/fetish. I freely admit to a fantasy of fooling around in a public place, not necessarily “doing it” in front of people…just, ya know…aaaah well I guess it is all about the “getting caught” aspect. Sweetie told me “Good luck with that”. So I am thinking this is not a fantasy of hers! Oh well….

All this talk led to some touching and kissing and talking some more. The TV got turned off, the talking stopped, the touching grew more frantic, then Sweetie said, “Oh, God, baby you smell so good!”

“Damn” I thought. “She is about to tell me that I smell like butter crackers again. GREAT!”

She snuggled closer, pushed her face into my neck as far as she could and sniffed so deeply that I thought it would cause her to pass out or hyperventilate or something.

Again, “You smell soooo good!”

“I know honey, I smell like butter crackers right?” I asked before she could say it.

“No, you smell like my pillow” she purred.

“WOW…your pillow. Really? Do you really mean that?” I asked.

“Well, ummm…yea…but…uuhh”, she stammered.

“SHUT UP AND COME HERE”, I demanded, grabbing her and pulling her close. “That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me!”

“Huh…ummm…you’re not mad…”, she said in disbelief.

“No, I know how much your pillow means to you. It's certainly better than some other things I could think of smelling like! ” I told her. “Now grab that those candy booby tassels and your lighter baby and let’s get freaky!”

Two lesbians and their quest for the elusive brown sofa Pt.5...The Battle at Ashley Furniture

2010-03-17T11:06:00.000-07:00

…and shopping we did! We marched forth with as much verve and dynamism as General’s going into battle! The biggest problem with that was that we were, more often than not, on opposing sides. I went into the dreaded “I don’t care. I can sit on anything.” mode of combat and Sweetie countered with “YOU have to care and you must have a freaking opinion”! It wasn’t that I did not have an opinion. I was just tired…battle-worn…fatigued!

We went into store after store. I saw a bright red corduroy sofa that was absolutely hideous and I announced loudly “This is the one, Sweetie. This is it! Don’t you love it?”

She looked at me for a very long time then said, “Babe, that is hideous. Get real.”

“But”, I shot back. “You told me I had to care and have an opinion and here ya go. We should get this one.”

Battle-worn I told you!

We continued on. I remembered a lovely leather sectional that we had both liked at Ashley Furniture. It was actually the 2nd place we had looked. We had both vetoed it due to the lighter brown color that it came in. Since THE LIST had been revised, we could take another look and see if we could live with the lighter color.

“Baby, let’s go back to Ashley and look at that one sectional that we liked”, I said.

“Aren’t we banned from there”, she asked.

“The ban only lasted for a month. It has been longer than that. We can go back now.” I told her proudly.

We marched off to Ashley. When we hiked in, the sales people did not disappear. I felt rejuvenated. They did glare at us in a slightly angry manner but we were not scared. We were here to do battle. We glared at each salesperson in turn, sizing them up. Finally my eyes settled on one woman. I looked at Sweetie and she nodded.

“You, ditzy blonde, we choose you.” The ditzy blonde fell to the floor. She cried, begged and pleaded to no avail. We had chosen her.

“Take us forth into The Battle at Ashley Furniture. We shall prevail!” I proclaimed triumphantly.

“Please”, Jen, the ditzy blonde said. “I am not experienced enough. I am ditzy. I am tired. We have battled before and lost. I am scared to go forth with you two again!”

“Come, dear girl, we are here to buy this time. Victory is assured!”, Sweetie guaranteed her.

“No, please, no”, she begged. “It is late, I have been here all day. I will cause defeat!”

“Defeat is not an option”, I cried. “We have been sitting on 1/3 of a sofa for quite a while now. My legs hurt, my back hurts, I am tired of sitting on top of the dogs. Help us, dear Jen, and you will be rewarded handsomely!”

Jen looked at us with fear in her eyes, “Fine. Just fine…I will help!”

“You shall now be known as General Jen”, Sweetie told her. “You will lead us straight on into victory! March!”

The three of us fell into line. General Jen in the front, Captain Sweetie behind her and Private Me pulling up the rear. We were a force to be reckoned with. Shoppers jumped to either side of us; some taking cover behind recliners. Salespeople fainted in fear of being recruited. The managers clapped and hooted victory chants at us. We were in pure combat mode.

We walked straight back to the sectional. It was not light at all. As a matter of fact, the color was very close to a chocolate brown. We sat down. It was uber comfortable! No wood up our butt. It was real leather. It had no nail head trim. It was, in a word, perfect!

“Why the hell didn’t we buy this in the 1st place”, Captain Sweetie bellowed.

“We thought it was too light”, I answered.

“It is not too light. Something else must be wrong with it”, she said as she pulled the seat cushions off and threw them too the ground. “Jump on them Private Me and see if they can withstand wear and tear!”

I did. I jumped on and wrestled those cushions. They were tough! “Help me General Jen. Help me test these cushions!”

General Jen grabbed up a cushion and slapped me in the head with it. “Wow, this is a robust cushion!” We both struggled and fought and waged war on that sofa. General Jen is quite a scrapper. And then she did it. She hit Captain Sweetie, hard. A bit too hard. I felt control of the battle slipping away. General Jen was losing it.

“Pull yourself together General!” I cried. “Victory is at hand but you must not kill the Captain. We need her. She has the money needed to secure success.”

General Jen settled down. There were tears in her eyes. She was breathing hard. She stood up straight and said, “Shall I write it up?” What a pro!

We put the sofa back together, walked to the office and “wrote it up”! We were triumphant! General Jen then looked at us and announced with a bit of defiance in her voice, “That sofa is not in stock. It will be available for delivery on March 16th!”

“Oh, no, that is 2 ½ weeks away and we are sitting on 1/3 of a sofa.” I said desperately, “Please General Jen, look again.”

“No, that is the soonest we can have it to you.”

“We’ll take it. We have come this far and fought the good fight”, Sweetie interjected. “That sofa is OURS!”

General Jen broke down in tears. She felt the triumph. The other salespeople broke out fire batons and banners that proclaimed victory and danced around the store. They all were liberated. The other customers called everyone that they knew to tell them of the fight they had just witnessed. The managers gave General Jen a plaque proclaiming her “Salesperson of the Decade” as well as a medal of valor, a purple heart and a promotion. Aaah, victory is sweet.

Sweetie and I went home with our heads held high. We were so proud of this hard won fight. We slept soundly for the first time in months. The birds began to sing again. Life was good. We did not even mind sharing the 1/3 sofa for another 2 ½ weeks.

The two weeks passed quickly. Every night we prayed that nothing would go wrong and that our wonderful, brown leather sofa would show up unscathed and ready for our butts to plop on. And, yesterday, it did! OUR elusive brown leather sofa was finally home. It was beautiful and comfortable and smelled so good! We were elated. We sat on, jumped on, rolled around on and fooled around a bit on our wonderful new sofa. We kissed it. We hugged the pillows. We took pictures and emailed them to friends announcing our newest arrival.

We had prevailed. We had looked the beast in the eye and defeated it. We had fought The Battle at Ashley Furniture and won. We had bravely endured the quest for the elusive brown sofa and we were victorious!

“So, Babe, now that the quest for the elusive brown sofa is over and we prevailed; where would you like to go on vacation this year.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO”, I screamed. “Not that. Not now. It‘s too soon for another quest”. Darkness closed in as I sank back into the wonderful, beautiful, comfortable, sweet smelling, brown, leather sofa.

The End....

...or maybe just a new beginning

Let the games begin....

2010-03-15T13:56:00.000-07:00

Sweetie and I have a wonderful game that we play sometimes. It is a game much like the old She’s touching me…”, “I’m not touching you…“ game that you probably played as a child with a sibling or close friend. You remember that game? Wasn’t it FUN? Yes, well, the game that Sweetie and I play is just as fun! This game is called “Where do you wanna go?”…“No, where do YOU wanna go?” There are several variations on this game. They include, but are not limited to, “What do you wanna do?…”No, what do YOU wanna do?”, “Where would you like to eat?”…”But Sweetie, I wanna know where YOU would like to eat?”….You can play this wonderful game separately or combine several of the variations to make it even more exciting.

This weekend was one of the weekends that Sweetie and I decided that playing this game would be of great benefit to our relationship. So, we played….and played ….and played! The weekend started of as most weekends do; we woke up and snuggled a bit and then the games began.

“So, honey, what would you like to do today?, Sweetie asked.

“I am not sure, Sweetie. What would you like to do?”, I replied.

“Well I need to mow and clean up the back yard but then I am open. So, what would you like to do?”

“Sweetie, I do not care. You go ahead and mow then we will see what time it is and we can decide what to do. How about that?” I suggested.

“But we can go ahead and make some plans, right? So, is there anywhere you would like to go?” She switched up the game and threw in a different variation. She is very good at this game!

“Not really,” I shot back. “Where would you like to go?”

“Well, honey, you have been in the house all week. So it is important to me that we go somewhere that you would like to go. So, where is that?”

“I would like to go wherever you would like to go”, I thought this was a great move.

“Oh, honey, you can’t use that move here. Just tell me where you would like to go and I will take you.”

I told you that she is good at this. I thought and thought. “Hmmmmm….how about shopping?” Would you like to go shopping?”

“Ahhh, babe, shopping? Really?” Sweetie is not much of a shopper.

“Well, I know that you need a new shirt for the weekend so we could get that!”

“OK, shopping it is. When would you like to leave?” She switched it up again. Point~Sweetie!

“It doesn’t matter to me. When would you like to leave?” I said.

“Whenever you want”, Sweetie announced.

With growing impatience I said, “Oh no Sweetie, this is your decision since you need to mow the yard. So, when would you like to leave?”

“Well, we can leave when I finish mowi….”, Sweetie started.

“That’s fine Sweetie.” I interjected. “But what shall I wear?” Go meee…it’s my birthday…go, go, go meee…I switched it up this time! Point~Me!

“Whatever you want to wear. What would you like to wear Babe?”, she shot back quickly.

“I would like to look nice for you. So I would like to know what you would like for me to wear”, I told her.

She looked at me with a gleam in her eye, “You always look wonderful to me. Please wear whatever you would like.”

“How about my pink and green t-shirt and purple shorts.” I purposefully picked mismatched clothing in order to throw her a curve. “Do you like that that?”

“You look wonderful in anything you wear. Yes, that is fine!” Point~Sweetie! She is unflappable!!

She headed out to mow and I ran screaming to the bedroom where I hid my head under the covers. I was trying to figure out how to beat her in this game. I am very competitive and hate to lose at anything. We had been at this for over about 2 hours and nothing had been decided really…well, we were going to look for her a shirt and I now had to wear my pink and green t-shirt and purple shorts so I was going to look like a goof!

When Sweetie had finished the yard, she walked upstairs and said, ”OK, Babe, I will jump in the shower then we can go. Oh, and you look ummm…very….errrr….colorful!”

“Thank you”, I said sarcastically. “I have been thinking. How about we go to the movies?”

Sweetie put her game face on and said, “What movie would you like to see?”

“Oh, my sweet girl, I want to see whatever you want to see!” I shot back triumphantly.

“But I thought we were going to go shopping for a shirt” she pointed out.

“But wouldn’t you rather go see a movie?” I inquired.

“Would you rather see a movie?”

“I would rather do what you want to do?” I looked at her innocently. Point~Me!

“We will go shopping and then we will decide about the movie after”, Sweetie growled.

Sweetie finished getting ready to go and we walked to the truck. Our mood was that of momma grizzly's that see a lion coming for one of her cubs! We jumped into the truck and headed out.

I looked over at my dear Sweetie and said, “when we find your shirt, I would love to grab a bite to eat before we decide on the movies.”

“Great she said. That sounds good….”

I poked Sweetie quite hard on her arm and said triumphantly, “So, Sweetie, what would
you like to eat?”

“STOP TOUCHING ME!” she screeched loudly.

Game, set, match…ME!!!!

Two lesbians and their quest for the elusive brown sofa Pt.4...The case of the lovely lesbian lady salesperson that measured wrong

2010-03-12T14:20:00.000-08:00

I stirred and started to try to open my eyes. All I could really remember was Sweetie saying something about picking out a paint color for the living/dining area so that we could paint the entire area tonight. Surely she was just joking. Surely she knows that picking out a paint color that we both agreed on could take at least 2 weeks if we both held true to form as we did while searching for the sofa. She must realize that it would take us more than one night to paint that whole section. Surely she had not totally lost her freaking mind! I squinted my eyes with trepidation. I was fearful that we would be heading to the paint store yet hopeful that we would be going home to discuss our new purchase. I was praying that I had passed out due to the rush of having finally found THE SOFA, not from the horrible reality that we may have to embark on another quest in order to find paint. I opened my eyes fully. We were sitting in the parking lot of Home Depot!! As I slipped delicately onto the floorboard, I felt my eyes roll back in my head again and I slept.

When I awoke this time I could hear Sweetie blathering on about “helping a ‘sistah’ out and finally finding a sofa all at the same time.”

“Huh” I said. “You helped your sister? When? With what? And are we really in the parking lot of Home Depot?”

“Well, it’s about time you woke up. What a strange time of the day to take a nap, Babe. We are at Home Depot, yes. We are here to pick out paint. Hey, you are not going back to sleep are you? You have had two naps today and that is quite enough.” She replied smartly.

“No, I am not going ‘back to sleep’, Honey” I said. “Did you say something about your sister?”

She looked at me with either pity or love in her eyes, sometimes it hard to tell them apart, and said, “No I said that I felt good that we were able to help a ‘sistah’ out. You know, a ‘sistah’.”

Now, I realize that this is all a bit new to me. I am still learning to live fully as a lesbian and to use the right terminology. I am a “newbie“, a “late in life lesbian”, a “baby dyke”. I did not know what a ‘sistah’ was though so I just looked at her and said, “Huh?”

“A ‘sistah’, Honey. Another lesbian. We girls gotta stick together so it is always good to help a ‘sistah’ out” she explained.

“Aaaah” I replied. “OK, so we did a good thing huh? Cool. But, Sweetie, are you sure our ‘sistah’ measured right? I am still worried that THE SOFA is too large for the living room.”

“Oh my dear sweet child. A ‘sistah’ knows how to use a tape measure” she said reassuringly while patting my hand. “Now lets go pick out some paint!”

I rolled slowly out the door from my spot on the floorboard. We walked into Home Depot. Sweetie had the look of a child about to be loosed in a candy store with $100.00 to spend. I, on the other hand, had the look of a frightened cow being led to slaughter.
We headed to the paint aisle and she looked at all the color swatches and with a flourish swept her hand over the area and said, “You pick. Whatever you want we will get.”

Oh noooo. I am not falling for that. Sweetie does not give up complete control on anything. No sireee. Ain’t happening. Not me. Nuh uhhh. Not a snowballs chance in hell. No way, no how. Nopers.

“Ok. If you are sure.” I said. I was still a little out of it from the fainting spells. I think I must have hit my head on the door handle and it was making me suffer visions of grandeur.

“Why yes, Honey. Whatever your heart desires…as long as it is not purple or orange or too bright or too dark or too beige or…”

“I got it” I yelped. “Please help me to pick out a color Sweetie. Your opinion is valuable and desired.”

“Well, remember, you insisted” she shot back.

So we looked and debated and looked some more. We finally found just the right shade of beige. It only took an hour. We purchased the paint, some rollers, some plastic, some tape, a few feet of cable (“you can never have too much cable, Babe”), and a circular saw (I don’t know ~ I just smiled) and headed home. Once there, we immediately got busy. THE SOFA was coming tomorrow after all and it was already after 8pm. We laid out plastic, gathered our supplies, I poured me a drink and we began. Sweetie started “cutting in” and I watched her and drank my sex on the beach.

“Are you actually going to let me paint this time or am I just going to sit and watch like I usually do?” See, Sweetie likes things to be done the “right way” which is loosely translated to “her way”. She usually will let me help only in places that can’t be seen by the general public.

“This is our home. You may help paint” she told me magnanimously. “First however, we must move most of the stinky micro fiber sofa outside. You can help with that too.”

I could help? Little ole me? Paint? Move the sofa? How exciting! So, I helped Sweetie move 2/3’s of the sofa out onto the driveway. “Goodbye, dear sofa” I chanted in a sing-song voice, “we shall miss thee.” We left the other 1/3 for us to sit on until THE SOFA arrived.

The work began. We painted…together…Sweetie took the trim and baseboards and I took the walls. It was good. I was singing loudly, “A whole new world…“ We were working together and Sweetie still had all her hair! As I was standing up on the ladder, I noticed that the area that the new sofa was going in seemed much smaller than the actual sofa was.

“Sweetie, I do believe that you should call the lovely lesbian lady salesperson and have her re-measure THE SOFA. I am sure it is too large for the space we have” I said with a bit of dread.

“Oh, you are being such a worry wart. It will fit. ‘Sistah-girl’ measured it and said it would fit so it will.”

“Call her please,” I begged.

So she did. The lovely lesbian lady ‘sistah’ said that she measured again and that the measurements “had not changed..haha”. Who knew that she had a sense of humor too?

We worked through the night, literally! When we finally fell into bed, exhausted, we heard a heavy rain falling. We laughed merrily. The old stinky sofa was getting a bath. HA, it needed one. We laughed harder and fell asleep.

The living room looked lovely the next morning when we awoke. The subtle color was just right. We began the wait for THE SOFA. When the truck drove up, we clapped and danced a happy dance and hugged.

“It is here, Babe. THE SOFA is finally here. No more stinky old micro fiber. We have lovely chocolate brown leather!”

The delivery people rang the doorbell. I swung open the door and there, on the porch, were several parts of our new SOFA! It was freakishly huge! Gigantic. Massive. Gargantuan. Colossal. Big….too big…I slumped to the floor…another “nap” was in order.

When I woke up. Sweetie and the delivery men were trying to fit the massive SOFA into the minuscule place that was supposed to be its home. They were stepping kindly over and around me. How considerate. They were trying configuration after configuration. It was too large. Just as I had said. Whoo hooo…I was finally right! Damn, why did it have to be this time?

“Measure it” I said from my place on the floor. “Get the measuring tape and measure it!”

Sweetie looked at me with murder in her eyes. “The lovely lady lesbian salesperson said it was 8 feet 8 inches so that’s what it measures!”

“MEASURE IT NOW!!!” I was no longer feeling love for my ‘sistah’. This was a dark cold abhorrence! “NOWWWW!”

So my dear wonderful sweetie got the tape, handed one end to me and we measured. THE SOFA was 10 feet 6 inches by 12 feet. ‘Sistah’ did not know how to use a tape measure. Or she was a liar. Maybe she had bad eyes. Perhaps a brain injury that affected measuring. Maybe she was not even a ‘sistah’. Who really knew? I just knew that THE SOFA was now the sofa that would not fit.

“Take it back” Sweetie said with venom in her voice, much as the queen says ‘off with their heads‘ in Alice in Wonderland. And they did. ...the sofa that would not fit rolled away with no fanfare. Sweetie and I looked at each with misery in our eyes.

I looked down at our old stinky micro fiber sofa and said “Hello, dear old sofa. At least we still have you.”

“Babe,” Sweetie interjected with exasperation, “we do not have the dear old stinky micro fiber sofa. At least not 2/3s of it. It rained last night, remember? It is wet and gross and nasty. We have 1/3 of the sofa and we must now begin the quest anew.”

Oh. My. God.

The blackness that overtook me at that moment was welcomed. As I lost consciousness, I felt something wet hit my face and heard the birds above me laugh with glee. “Birds can’t laugh” was my last thought before I went completely out.

“Seriously, Babe. This is not the time for a nap.” Sweetie said over her shoulder as she walked into the house. "We have shopping to do!"

To be continued…..

Two lesbians and their quest for the elusive brown sofa Pt.3...The lovely lesbian lady salesperson.

2010-03-11T14:48:00.000-08:00

Sweetie and I went forward to continue on our quest for the elusive brown leather sofa on a beautiful Saturday morning. The birds were silent above us. Who knew that birds were so touchy! I only threw a few rocks to quiet them a tiny bit. I did not mean to bean a few of the especially loud ones square above their freaky little beaks! Anyway, Sweetie and I held hands tightly as we walked slowly to the truck, looking much as condemned men must look while walking the “green mile”. We were clutching at each other desperately and hanging on for dear life. “THE NEW AND REVISED LIST” was tucked firmly inside my pocket. It consisted of the following:

Must be leather. Ok, maybe some bonded leather would not be completely out of the questions if we fell totally in love.

Must be some shade of brown or beige. As long as it sort of matched the chocolate brown leather ottoman we were good with it!

Must be an L-shaped, right facing sectional or a sofa and loveseat. Could even be a left facing sectional and we would “make it work” as they say on Project Runway.

Recliners would be ok if they looked “cool”! Hmmmm, I guess, cool recliners, alrighty!

Could have the dreaded nail head trim. But, only if it was small and unobtrusive. I do not even know what that means…it’s nail head! It is made to be noticed! I am not so sure that this is a big help in narrowing things own…but, hey, what do I know? I do now know that birds can be touchy. That’s something, right?

Must not have contoured seats. Sweetie and I are still a sucker for comfort. No wood up the butt for us!

No fold-down drink holders. Still got dogs. Don’t wanna share our drinks. Just a personal preference.

Must have character! Wait! That is new! Character? What the heck? What does that even mean??? Sweetie says that she will “know it when she see’s it”. Well what if I don’t know it? What if I think I know it and it ain’t really it? Oh, man. This is not looking good.

“OK honey, remember what we talked about, remain positive and let’s go find our sofa!” I cheered brightly. Have I mentioned that I was a cheerleader in school? Well, I was and I was dang good and I could use it now to keep our spirits up. “L-E-T-S-G-O…that’s the way you spell lets go. Let’s go! Hey, hey, lets go…find that sofa!”

Sweetie looked at me from the corner of her eye. “Shhhhh” she hissed. “Just shhhh! Do not remind me that I am dating a chirpy, cheerful, ex-cheerleader person. Not today! SHHHH!”

Sweetie did not really like cheerleaders before me. Nor did she like chirpy, cheerful people. Maybe she did not particularly like blondes…but hey…we can all change our minds huh? We are women and that’s our prerogative right?

“Onward” I cried. “Onward to find a sofa!” And off we went.

We revisited several stores that we had already been to armed with “THE NEW AND REVISED LIST”. As we entered each of the previously shopped in stores, we noticed that salespeople seemed to just disappear…suddenly! How rude! We were paying customers after all. You would think that they had never had customers with A LIST before. HRRUUMMPPPHHH!
My feelings were a bit bruised but Sweetie just murmured “Ahhh screw’em! Who needs them anyway?”

“Well we do Sweetie,” I answered. “Someone has to write up the order!”

“What order?” She screeched. “We have not found anything yet that would call for an order!”

Then, we went to El Dorado. We had passed on El Dorado several times because we thought it was a small furniture store that specialized in bedroom furniture. I do not know why we thought that, but we did. Upon entering the store, we saw room upon room of all types of furniture. We were jubilant! They had an entire leather room!

As we were walking to said leather room, a woman came up behind us and said, "May I help you ladies?”

We turned slowly around, afraid that if we moved too quickly we would scare the salesperson off! As our gaydar went off, there she was. OUR salesperson! A lesbian! Just for us! Woot, woot, she would surely be able to help.

“Leather” I said hoarsely. “Can you please take us to the leather?”

Sweetie looked as if she would pass right on out! You could see the relief on her face. Surely this lovely lesbian lady in front of us would show us what we had been searching for forever.

“Come right this way ladies” she said. “I can show you a few things.”

“We have A LIST” I told her.

“Oh that is no problem. I can help you” she promised.

“I love you” I breathed.

“Excuse me” was the quick reply.

“Just show us what you got” Sweetie told her.

We saw it quickly. THE SOFA. It had pretty much everything on “THE NEW AND REVISED LIST” .

Chocolate brown ~ check.

Must be an L-shaped, right facing sectional ~ check.

Cool looking recliners ~ check.

No contoured seats ~ check.

Character ~ check. It did have character…I saw it!

No drink holders ~ Damn. It had drink holders!

“No problem” our lovely lady lesbian salesperson told us. “We can take those out! Come with me and I’ll show you what it looks like without them. We have it in the back!”

I realized then that she was a goddess and that I DID love her…just a little….

We walked happily, gaily, merrily back to see THE SOFA. It was beautiful. The heavens opened up and I actually saw the Angels singing the hallelujah chorus! What a moment. Then it hit me. It was too large. It had to be. This was too easy.

“Sweetie, is this wonderful, beautiful, amazing, chocolate brown leather, right facing sectional too large?” I asked with trepidation.

“Oh no honey” She replied. “This wonderful, beautiful, amazing, chocolate brown leather, right facing sectional is perfection.”

“Measure it.” I pleaded. “For me, please, just measure it.”

So Sweetie and our lovely lesbian lady salesperson measured. “8 feet 8 inches by 8 feet 8 inches.” The salesperson said. “Does that work for you?”

“Perfect” replied Sweetie. “Simply PERFECT!”

And we embraced while crying and thanking God that we had been sent a lovely lady lesbian salesperson to help us.

We walked victoriously to the cashier, paid and set up delivery for the next day. We were beyond excited. It was only 7pm. We had the whole night ahead of us. We could do whatever we wanted.

“Let’s go pick out a paint color” Sweetie said. “Lets just do it right and paint the whole living/dining area before it comes tomorrow.”

I just gulped loudly and as I heard the birds start twittering mockingly, I fell to the ground in a silent faint of desperation…..

To be continued…….

Two lesbians and their quest for the elusive brown sofa Pt.2...The prequel!

2010-03-09T10:53:00.000-08:00

Sweetie and I were talking on a Friday night. We were discussing “THE LIST” and any revisions that we may need to make to it so that we could find a sofa and live happily ever after. The discussion was getting heated. Voices were being raised and emotions were boiling over.

“Stop” I shouted. “How did we get here. What caused us to be have to be on this dangerous quest for the elusive brown leather sofa in the first place.“

We sat and stared at one another, breathing hard and thinking back. We were filled with dread that we would never find the elusive sofa and would therefore be forced to sit on the stinky old micro fiber sofa throughout eternity.

“Stinky”, she yelped. “That is why we are on this quest.“

And she was right, as she says she usually is. Stinky was why we were on the quest in the first place. We have, as I have said many times before, DOGS! The dogs are very large. They are hard for us to bathe and we have been banned from many pet stores, groomers and vets in our area! Therefore, as they go about their stinky day, they transfer some of their considerable hair and even more considerable smell onto things.

"Remember, hon, while we were sitting and watching TV one night, I started sniffing you and I said," “Hon, I smell something. What is it?“ She asked me, "Remember?"

"Yes!" I replied and I thought back....

I had said back to her, “Well if smells like butter crackers then it is me. Otherwise, I don’t know what it is.”

“Don’t you smell that? Surely you smell that. It is not the smell of butter crackers. It is awful!”

“Then why’d you sniff me?” I screeched. “Do I generally smell awful?”

“No” she replied. “ I just was not sure where it was coming from…Take a whiff…c’mon, a bigger whiff!”

This is a good place to mention that Sweetie is ALWAYS wanting me to “smell it, see if it is any good”, “taste the milk, hon. I am sure it is not bad yet”, “just stick your tongue to it, babe. I am sure that fuzz on bologna is ok”. I usually do it before I think….yea, yea, I know what your thinking. "That’s gross!" I have sons ok? The gross-o-meter went out the window a long time ago!

So I whiffed. “Oh my GOD” I replied. “What is that? It smells like….uhhhh…aaahhh…gah…DOG BUTT!”

“Yes” Sweetie exclaimed triumphantly. “Dog butt. That’s what it is!”

She then looked at me very deliberately and said, “Who smells like dog butt?”

“Not me” I replied with a smirk. “you smelt it first. So it must be you!”

“It is not me”, she said indignantly as she started sniffing.

I started sniffing too. Nothing was safe. We sniffed each other. We sniffed the beautiful, expensive, red, Pier One curtains. We sniffed the dogs (“YUCKIE“ but still not like dog butt!), We sniffed the rug. We sniffed the sofa.

“Blech” I screamed triumphantly. “Smell that, smell the sofa. It stinks! IT smells like dog butt!

“I’m not smelling it”, she said. “I don’t like to smell things that are gross.”

“Thanks honey. Thanks a lot!” My eyes rolled out of my head.

So, it was the sofa. Who knew that smells get trapped into the very core of micro fiber? Who woulda thunk it? Who woulda thunk that 2 stinky big dogs, a semi-stinky little dog and a cat with bad breath sitting on an old brown micro fiber sofa would have started us on a journey that could very well be the end of the world as we knew it? A journey that might change who we were forever. A Quest. The Quest.

That, my friends, was the beginning of the quest for the elusive brown sofa.

To be continued…..

Two Lesbians And The Quest For The Elusive Chocolate Brown Leather Sofa

2010-03-04T09:47:00.000-08:00

My Sweetie and I have been on a sofa hunt for the past three months! I shouldn’t call it a “hunt”. That is much too light a word. I shall call it a quest! A quest is a journey towards a goal. And this has been a journey. Whew, what a journey. I never knew that buying a sofa could be so hard. My Sweetie is very, ummmm, persnickety! Yes, that is a good word; persnickety. Persnickety means fussy, particular, and that is what she is. She had a list of things that were musts. Now, I understand that some things are very important but ya gotta be a little bit flexible. Just a little bit. A tiny smidge.

"THE LIST” consisted of the following:

Must be leather. OK. I get that. We have dogs. Big dogs! And a little dog and a cat. That makes for a lot of hair and a lot of licking tongues which are both detrimental to the micro-fiber that we have at present.

Must be chocolate brown. Hmmm…OK. Well, this came about due to the fact that she has a chocolate brown, leather ottoman that she has some sort of deep emotional attachment to. I like the ottoman, but I ain’t gonna limit myself to certain choices just because of it.

Must be an L-shaped, right facing sectional. I understand…sorta. Sweetie says she wants to stick with a sectional because she loves to sit beside me and snuggle after a hard day at work…all together now, “AWWWWWWWWWWWWW!” She got me there! And the L-shape/right-facing is because we have a long, skinny living area and our TV has to stay where it is. It is very large, 50 inches. It has it’s own wall. We have our priorities after all.

No recliners. Those are for old people…“Huh, I guess“.

Must NOT have nail head trim. Yea, yea, whatever. What did nail heads ever do to her anyway.

Must not have contoured seats. Alrighty. This is due to sitting on a couple of sofas that are contoured and if you sit between the seats, wood goes up your butt. Not very comfortable nor does it paint a pretty picture.

No fold-down drink holders. We have dogs. They like to drink. Need I say more?

Armed with “THE LIST”, we headed out happily, birds chirping gaily above, holding hands and reveling in the opportunity to make our first big purchase for our home! We went to the first store and lucky us, we saw something we liked right away! Then we realized that it was the exact same sofa that we currently had except it was not micro fiber. It was BONDED leather. Well, that wouldn’t work. We needed real leather. “THE LIST” said so. We moved on. We actually hit 5 furniture stores that day. It was exhausting. Who could have imagined that a few items on a list could totally obliterate every sofa in an entire city!

The next day dawned and again we had hope. Hope that today would be the day that we found our sofa. We headed to the truck clutching “THE LIST”, smiles on our face, still holding hands, birds twittering a bit, still fairly happy. That did not last long. We drove to another city. We searched, we sat on, we laid on, we tried out 342 sofas in 6 stores that day. We found nothing.

This continued for the next two weekends. Our smiles were not as bright, we did not hold hands, I shot someone a bird and used “THE LIST” to wipe a bug off of the windshield.

“Honey”, I said sweetly while biting my tongue “this can not go on. You have to at least try to compromise on some of the things on “THE LIST”.”

“But honey,” she replied “I really need those things.”

“YOU DO NOT NEED most of those things dear woman. You just want them. Compromise. Just a bit. Please. For me. For us. For our sanity!”

So we got the list and wiped the bug guts off as best as we could. We went over each item and discussed it in detail. The leather was a must. But she would give a bit on the color, just a bit. Sweetie even agreed to give up the ottoman if need be. She will be seeing a therapist for her withdrawal for a short while but will eventually be just fine. She said that she would consider a sofa and love seat if we had to if I would promise that I would still sit with her occasionally. Still no contoured seats, nail head trim, fold down drink holders, or recliners. This was workable. We would be able to find something now.

Not so much!

Over the next couple of weeks, we hit many more stores and revisited some that we had been to before. We looked online and in magazines. We prayed. Nothing, zero, zilch, zip, zippo, zot! I was ready to take a bright orange, corduroy, reclining sofa and chair that had nail heads on top of the contoured seats with fold down drink holders. “But baby,” Sweetie said “We have red curtains. It won’t match!” Did I forget to mention that Sweetie has a strange attachment to the red curtains in the living and dining areas as well? She does. “They came from Pier One.” “They were expensive.” “They are happy and red.” So what. I can whip up new ones from a couple of old sheets if she will just pick a damn sofa…..

To be continued….

So, we made it officially official…sorta!

2010-03-03T14:08:00.000-08:00

Sweetie came to me very early in the morning a couple of days ago and said that we had to go to a notary. I am really good at following directions so I said “OK hon”, without asking any questions.

She said, “We have to make this official so you can get on my insurance”.

“Huh” I looked at her blankly, “…insurance, what insurance? Who’s insurance? What official? Did I miss something?”

“Honey” she said, “I have to take care of you and you do not have health insurance anymore so we have to go sign this paper and make it official so you can get on my insurance. That’s my job, to take care of you.”

“What paper? What is official? Huh?” I will freely admit that I am a bit slow in the morning…and sometimes in the afternoon…and occasionally in the evening. Actually, I just do not pay attention very often. Just ask my sweetie. She’ll tell you! The doctors call it ADD. I call it being a Pisces!

“Honey” she said very slowly for my benefit, “You have to have health insurance and since your “other” coverage has expired, you can get on mine now! But, we have to sign and notarize a paper for my insurance carrier saying that we are domestic partners!”

Well, I don’t know why that hit me like a ton of bricks…but it did! We have been living together for over a year. We have discussed this before. I always knew we would do this. But still, I stammered and stuttered and hemmed and hawed and finally spit out, “Oh, OK, that makes sense. Alrighty then, ummm…hmmmm…OK!”

“Well don’t look so excited” she said sarcastically, “I am not asking you to cut off a foot or anything.”

“Oh Sweetie, I couldn’t cut off my foot for you right now. I don’t have health insurance!” I replied brightly. I always tend to make really bad jokes when I don’t know what else to say. I did not know ones eyes could roll all the way back in the head where one could see their own brain until I saw my sweeties response to my little attempt at humor.

“You are so funny. Just a barrel of laughs. HAHA. So, do you want to do this thing or not?” She asked.

“Yes, Babe, I do want to “do this thing”. I told her. “I was just caught off guard. That’s all. I love you and appreciate your wanting to take care of me!” Boy, I was shaking and sweating and trying to say the right thing! Where were my words? Usually they come so easily and sound so right and these sounded so weak! Not really what I wanted to say at all. I wanted to tell her how much she means to me and how much I love her and how sweet it is that she wants to take care of me and make things OK for me. How wonderful she is and how lucky I am to have her. And all that would come out is “I appreciate you”. How lame is that?

“Lame…you are so lame” I whispered to myself.

“Huh”, my sweetie replied. “Did you just call me LAME?”

“NO, babe” I stammered. “I said “you are such a great dame! You are wonderful and are just great. A great dame! That’s what you are. Now, let’s do this thing!”

So, she grabbed her keys and the paper and we ran out the door to get it done! As I came down the steps, I heard: “F*^k”! Why me? Why now? Honey, go get your keys I’ve got a flat. We will have to take the jeep.”

I ran back in the house and grabbed my keys. For some reason, I looked down and noticed that I had on my dirty old jeans from the day before. I also had on the Colts t-shirt that I had slept in the night before and flip-flops! I said it was early didn’t I? At least I had combed my hair! I was going to become domestically partnered to the woman I love with all my heart, in ratty old jeans and a rumpled t-shirt and flip-flops that matched absolutely nothing. Ah well, my hair looked good!

When I went back outside, my sweetie was muttering and cursing and kicking her tire. “Not a good start to domestic partnership”, I thought.

“Did you not notice this flat when you were out here earlier?” she asked.

“Ummm…nope. Should I have?” I replied.

“You mean you went right by this tire and did not notice that it was flat?”

“Yep, I mean nope, umm yep…” I stuttered, confused. “I mean, Yes, I went right by the tire; and, No, I did not notice the flat.”

“Do you ever pay attention to things?” she grumbled.

See, I told you I did not pay attention very often and that my sweetie would tell you that!

We got in the jeep and headed to find a notary. I glanced over at my sweetie and started laughing. “What is so amusing” she challenged.

“You have on dirty jeans and a hat and a Dallas t-shirt” I pointed out smartly. “But, at least, your tennis shoes match!”

“Excuse me?” she queried. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, we are going to get domestically partnered and look how we are dressed. This is just how I always dreamed it would be baby.”

“Funny girl, you are just so very funny! But, I love you anyway! I really do honey!” she said lovingly.

“I love you too baby. Now lets find that notary and do this thing!” I replied.

So, that is the story of how Sweetie and I became “domestically partnered”. Are we not the most romantic couple ever?

I am pissed off and I have a migraine...Someone Please Explain Why Chelsea King Had To Die.

2010-03-03T13:36:00.000-08:00

When I started this blog, I thought it would be mainly about my new life with the woman I love. Mostly humorous with some bittersweet pieces mixed in. But, today, I am not happy. I am pissed off. And, I have a migraine. These two things are not great separately but together, BAM, they are TROUBLE! Just ask my Sweetie, or my kids, or any random friends you may encounter. They will all tell you! Trouble…big trouble!

I do not understand why Chelsea King of San Diego County had to die.

Why was the monster who is accused of killing her allowed to roam our streets freely after what he had already done?

John Albert Gardner III has been accused of kidnapping and murdering this straight A student who’s father called her “Angel”. John Gardner is not new to the court system. He has been convicted of similar crimes before. He pleaded guilty in May 2000 to molesting a 13-year-old female neighbor and served five years of a six-year prison term. Prosecutors said he lured the victim to his home with an offer to watch "Patch Adams," a 1998 movie starring Robin Williams.

That girl was beaten before escaping and running to a neighbor.

Mr. Gardner "never expressed one scintilla of remorse for his attack upon the victim" despite overwhelming evidence, prosecutors wrote in a sentencing memo.
He had faced a maximum of nearly 11 years in prison under terms of a plea agreement but prosecutors urged six years. A psychiatrist who interviewed Gardner, Dr. Matthew Carroll, wanted a stiffer punishment, saying in court documents that he was a "continued danger to underage girls in the community."

Gardner was on parole for three years, until September 2008, state records show.

San Diego police also say Gardner is positively linked to an assault on a 22-year-old Colorado Springs, Colo., woman who managed to fend off her attacker on Dec. 27 in Rancho Bernardo Community Park on the northern edge of San Diego, where King's 1994 BMW was found with her belongings inside.

So, again, why did Chelsea King have to die?

Why was the monster who is accused of killing her allowed to roam our streets freely after what he had already done?

What am I missing? He was convicted. He was a known offender. A recommendation had been made that he receive a harsher sentence than he received due to the fact that he was a continued danger to underage girls in the community.

Why the hell was he still able to walk the streets, stalking innocent young women? This young girl had a life to live. Love to give. People who loved her. Who is he to be allowed to take that from her? Who is he to be allowed to take her from the people that cared.

Where is her justice? Where were the people who decided to allow him freedom as he took her life? Do they know? Do they “get it”? Do they care? I hope so. I hope that we all learn a lesson from this. I hope that we start to spend more money on our criminal justice system and less on traveling to space. I understand that space travel is important. I also understand that human life is more so!

As I said earlier. I am pissed off! I will never understand why human life must be lost due to “human rights”. I will never get why a criminal should have more rights than an average citizen. I refuse to understand why a pedophile should be allowed the freedom to harm again when a professional stated that he would re-offend!

I take this personally. I am a woman. I am an incest and rape survivor. I am a human. I have rights. Yes, I am pissed off. I hope others are as well. Maybe that way, this young girl will not have died in vain. Maybe her death will propel other women, other incest and rape survivors, other humans who have rights, to come forward and take a stand. Demand that our rights be recognized. Demand that judges and lawyers and legislators understand that we will no longer stand for innocent lives being lost due to the “human rights” of criminals.

I know that we all have certain unalienable rights that are afforded us. I agree that we all make mistakes and that if we pay for them, we can get forgiveness. I realize that people deserve the right to “pay their dues” and be pardoned. But, this man was known to be a danger to others! KNOWN! His rights should not have outweighed the rights of young Chelsea. Unfortunately, this time, they did. He won that battle. But, with the help of the people, Chelsea can still win the war!

Call your Mayor, your Governor, even your newspaper. Just call someone and tell them that you will not stand for this anymore! That something must be done! That no more lives should be lost! Demand harsher sentences, better reporting, more involvement. Ask that this child’s death not be in vain. Do it for Chelsea. Do it for your child, your grandchild, yourself. Whomever you do it for, just do it!

And Chelsea, go rest high on that mountain, Honey. You will not be forgotten. Your death will not be in vain.

“Lookie honey…it’s PORN!”

2010-03-02T12:25:00.000-08:00

My sweetie said that bedroom TV’s and king-sized beds made for divorces. We do not have a king-sized bed, but the ole’ 32 inch TV is now featured prominently on the wall of our boudoir! Displayed much as the artwork it replaced. I hated that artwork; some half nude chick that really had a nice body, but whew, what a face! Woof! My sweetie says she simply displayed it for the great shadowing and the lovely lines. Whatever! Anyway, I like the TV there better and definitely do not think it foreshadows divorce. The ugly chick art however could have definitely caused a problem or two.

After dinner last night, my sweetie and I were watching 24 starring Keifer Sutherland. It is a great action show that we enjoy very much. About halfway through it, my sweetie declared “Hey baby, we could finish watching this in bed!” I might also mention that we just recently got AT&T U-Verse and we can pause a recording in one room and just take up where we left off in another. This is a very cool thing! So she paused 24 and we ran around getting everything ready for bed and putting the dogs in their beds. We were acting like kids on Christmas morning. It really doesn’t take much for us! We are simple women.

Off to bed we went. She grabbed the remote, which she always does, and I turned down the bed. In we jumped excitedly! With trembling fingers, Sweetie turned on the TV and YIPPEEEE…it worked! We started right where we had left off earlier. How cool is that. We felt so accomplished, like we were the first to discover this wonderful new innovation! We snuggled up together and marveled in our ability to enjoy this simple pleasure in our own bed! There was no talking, just adoration for our dandy new television and it’s accompanying cable hook-up!

All too soon, 24 ended. “Now what?” I asked quizzically. “Let’s channel surf”, she chirped enthusiastically! “Yes”, I replied, “lets.” So she grabbed the clicker again and off she went. Channel after channel. Flipping quickly. Let me tell ya, not much on late night TV!

“News”, she announced with very little interest.

“No, too heavy right before bed”, I answered.

“Hmmm, “Wanted”, that’s a good movie.” She murmured.

“Yea”, I said unenthusiastically, “Angelina’s hot and all but we’ve seen that like 5 times already. Keep searching baby.” Then, “Wait, Stop, Right there! What is that?” I asked.

“THAT is an infomercial for the ab-roller. I am not watching that!” She replied. “But Holmes on Homes is on HGTV!”

“Baby,” I purred, “you know I am not a fan of that show. I just like the decorating ones. Not the ones where they tear stuff down! Do we have to watch that now?”

She continued to surf and I picked up a magazine. Suddenly, she let out a yell. “ Lookie Honey, it’s PORN!”

Porn, now there’s something we can watch together. So I dropped my magazine and flipped back over, snuggled back into her arms and began to watch Insatiable Obsession. It is a plot driven story about a novelist that hopes a weekend at a secluded mansion with his supportive wife will ease his writers block. “I can relate to that”, I thought. “I have had writers block before. Maybe this will give me some ideas.”

My sweetie and I began to watch the porn on our beloved TV. It was wonderful. For about 5 minutes. Then I began to critique. I critiqued everything; the acting, the dialogue, the actors, the sets, the sex acts, and even the bodies.

“Those boobs soooo are not real” I announced loudly, “They don’t move or even jiggle a little bit. Boobs have to jiggle a little or it’s just weird!” "My boobs jiggle baby, that's normal right?"

"Yes babe" she said, "you have great boobs. You know how I feel!" She is just so sweet!

“Who says “Ya know ya want it baby, so come ‘ere”, Seriously, who writes this stuff?” I asked in disbelief.

“Who hired that actor? He sucks. He is not believable. He is stiff…well, I guess that is a good thing in his line of business…HAHA, I made a joke honey. Get it?”

I noticed that the sound had disappeared from our movie. Then I heard my honey mumble something about “mute…make up…own words…”, followed by maniacal laughter. I went back to my critiques.

“Who can do that? My legs won’t even bend like that. What is she an actress or a Cirque Du Soleil performer?”

“Seriously, he can not go that long. It is a physical impossibility…Wham, Bam, thank you Ma’am. That’s how it goes”

“You want fries with that shake baby”, I heard my sweetie mutter with a low rumble of scary giggles.

Ignoring her, I saw a new pair of boobs on the screen. “Hrruummppphh, I am not sure if that is a little boy or a girl. She has NO boobs! Don’t get me wrong sweetie, I got no problem with boobs of any size, but wow, that chick's got no boobs. None…nada…zilch!”

Sweetie was prattling on about something again, so I stopped a second to listen. “ Ya know ya want it baby, so come ‘ere and let me grab them boobies…wait, you got no boobies! Holy Hell! Where are your boobies woman?” She followed this with more maniacal laughter.

“Aha“, I thought, “That’s who writes this stuff. My very own sweetie does!” Then I dissolved into my own hysterical laughter.

We spent the next ten minutes laughing at PORN and at ourselves and the fact that I just about pee’d my pants…aaaaah, c’mon now, don’t judge. You know it’s happened to you too! Then we had some really great sex. It had nothing to do with the porn that we had “watched” and everything to do with the fact that we get each other’s very warped sense of humor. Well, that and we both just like sex…a lot!

Hmmm…wonder how long it’ll be before we are ordering a king-sized mattress.