I was browsing my local Salvation Army and I saw a microwave for sale. I had no intention of buying it as I have a lovely model already. This particular microwave was made in 1672. So, now you know what happens in the Urban Legend Cat in the Microwave Experiment:
I was thinking about New Years and what I am going to do. I haven’t done New Years since I lived in Seattle and I work both on the 31st and the 1st so chances are I will be in my bed cursing the pizza boys who will be listening to Boys II Men too loudly as the ball drops this year. (I am not joking, they play that old album at least once a week)
But, what will 2008 mean? Leap Year. Election. Summer Olympics. But most importantly it will mean…
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….only 7 more years until I get my HOVERBOARD!
Like these Keywork? I had the ones on the bottom
AHHHHHHH!!!!
How can it sneak up like this every year? If you came to my house to see the collection of packages tied with brightly colored paper and bows you would think I am a scrooge of massive proportions.
In reality, I have taken Wednesday off of work in order to start and finish my shopping for the year. And by shopping I mean I am going to go dig out my Kohl’s card and see how far my credit limit will get me at the cheesiest department store on earth.
I got the same speech this year from my mother that I have gotten each and every year that I have been a single mother, “Now, promise me you won’t buy us any gifts this year.” Sure mom. Truth is, I want to buy gifts. I want to buy them for everyone that I know. I want to have cost not be an option and I want nothing in return. Well, I would like some updated pictures of my nieces and an Easy Bake Oven. But other that that I want nothing, except a bank to approve a student loan for me and gift certificates to the diner for a year of Saturday morning breakfasts. But that is it, I swear.
I am going to list my “Reverse Wish List” or “What I Would Give to everybody I Know If I Could”
Sarah: My middle sister gets her college paid for and sound proof walls cause she lives on campus at the University of Wisconsin and it is quite loud there on the weekends, and Mondays and also on Tuesdays thru Thursdays.
Rachel: My oldest sister has her fourth baby on the way, she gets a house cleaner and a personal chef
Mom and Dad: Monthly plane tickets to see me (it’s a selfish one so they get to fly first class)
My Boss (the nice one) : deep tissue massages cause she’s tense, and I will show up on time every day, this month or at least this week.
Ally, Korbyn, and Broderick: my teenage cousins who have taken amazing trips all over the country and the world, you will get the pleasure of accompanying me on a road trip this summer in my rusty banged up 94 Honda. You’re Welcome.
My Co-workers: I am going to leave a case of Peppermint Schnapps in the bar to go with your hot chocolate for the long cold winter.
Tim: A winter coat, what you have does not count. And mittens. And a hat. And an all inclusive trip to Vegas.
The Pizza Employees Who I Live Above and Who Play Their Stereo Quite Loudly at 2am (at least that’s what I call them): headphones
Max: For my son I will buy new shoes that he will actually wear. He has been wearing these old dingy ones for months and I cannot get him to switch to the shiny new ones that are collecting dust by the front door. And a pony.
And to the people I have never met:
Laurie Kendrick: Backstage Goo Goo Doll passes
Billy: Backstage Creed passes—Ohhh! I kid, You may have a writing job at my fictional periodical.
Matt C. : a book deal, for real I would read it and gift it to many people.
Keywork: A real raccoon suit. or maybe just some mascara and I can tell you how to make the effect just as good as the real thing.
James Lileks: retirement, if you give me your job
You are all very welcome.
On my mother’s side there are eleven grandkids. My sister is the oldest, she’s 31. My youngest cousin Bryn is ten, only four years older than my son. Because we are spread all over the country and the older of us are busy with college and careers there has never been a time we have all been gathered until today. For fifteen minutes we were together at Fort Snelling to bury my grandpa. The five boys were pallbearers and the six girls huddled together in tears. After the boys set Grandpa down he received a 21 gun salute, then a bugler played Taps. They folded the flag and presented it. After that my uncle, who is a minister, spoke and the ceremony was over.
So, eleven puffy eyed kids were ordered by our mothers, despite the fact that the bulk of us are legal, to pose for the first ever complete grandkid photo.
Korbyn, Broderick, Kristiane, Eric, Richelle, Kyle, Anthony, Ally, Bryn, Rachel and Sarah.
We are now officially the second generation. Some of us have kids and in twenty years some of us will be grandparents ourselves. I still remember twenty years ago when us older kids would run around causing our version of trouble. This usually involved shaking cans of Coke and asking an adult to open it for us. Please don’t let me forget how much fun that was when my son does this to me. I hope he has as great a bunch to run around with as I do.
A little over fourteen years ago my grandma passed away. She left behind my Grandpa Lyle who I had never seen sad before she died. I have never been able to understand or accept her death, until today. I received a call this morning from my aunt, she had the darkest voice I had ever heard before and she did not need to say anything I knew what had happened. My grandpa passed away in his sleep last night. It’s tough to believe, cause I just saw him two days ago. I would like to believe that every family has a member like my grandpa. If they don’t I have to imagine it is a pretty empty family. I realize how self important that sounds but I mean it. Grandpa Lyle was the top tier of our whole life. He was the epitome of kindness and wisdom and love. I have spent the day so far on the phone with family, mostly just crying into the phone and listening to them cry back. I can’t explain it but this feels like the first time anyone has died ever. My grandpa spent the last few years of his life moving around a bit slower, but he never stopped moving. When I was working in a usually empty coffee shop I spent my afternoons in complete boredom and loneliness. Grandpa would make the 45 mile drive to see me every day that he felt well enough. He’d sit and drink a cup of coffee and maybe eat a bowl of soup and talk to me and keep me company. And every time a customer walked in the door he’d say hello and make conversation with them. Everyone who has ever known him has thought the world of him and for good reason.
I was talking to my sister and she said something that made it all snap in my head, “He gets to see Grandma today.”
I know he does. She has been making afghans for their couch up there this whole time. I bet she knew he was coming. And she set the table with one of her cross stitched tablecloths and cooked him some goulash and green Jell-O mold salad. I bet they didn’t even cry when they saw each other. Grandpa kissed her on the cheek and they sat down and ate. After supper they watched Wheel of Fortune and I bet they didn’t have commercials and I bet they have the good version of that show up there with the prize showcase and I bet they are terrific prizes. After that they played Uno and ate popcorn and drank Diet Rite.
Man I miss him. Already. But I am glad Grandma gets to have him back.
Today may have been the first day in the history of my cell phone days that I forgot my phone at home. As I was driving home tonight I got in a hit and run accident with a bus. The bus hit me and it ran. And it was a school bus too. No one was hurt and my car is still running, but sheesh! The nicest man in the world decided to stop for the hysterical girl trying to chase a school bus down Lexington Parkway. I was in one of those moments where logic was not a factor. In reality I can not run along side a bus for very long. So, Nice Man called the police and hung out til they came and I gave them a report…blah blah blah. This is the same car that I was driving a year and a half ago when I got into a terrific hail storm and my white car became a golf ball. The Golf Ball now has a large stripe across it. I think it’s a good thing I am not much of a car person, cause now I have, officially, The Ugliest Car in America. The end.
I made a pact with myself to write each day this month. That was dumb. Tonight I met my extended family for dinner twenty miles away. We ate (too much) and I just got home. On the way to the restaurant we were running early and decided to stop off at the mall to get the annual photo with Santa. My son is six, so his belief in Santa is conditional to the swarm of questions he fires at me. Here’s a sampling of what I have to combat:
Max:How does Santa Know when I am naughty?
Me: He has hidden cameras installed all over the world
This he believes fully and I have told him that most light fixtures have hidden cameras in them. One day last year he did something that was “naughty” and he looked up at the camera and said in a terrified voice, “Did you see that?” Try keeping a stoic face and punish a kid after that, I could not.
Max: Phil says Santa isn’t real
Me: Does Phil know about the hidden cameras?
Max: Yeah cause I told him.
Ouch, I am turning my son into a liar.
Max: Phil says you parents wrap presents and just say they are from Santa
Me: I don’t have enough money to buy presents so if there are any this year you can bet they are from Santa, so you’d better be good this year.
OK, I did not say that. I am saving it for when he hiding in the clothes rack at the mall and I have been running around to security asking for them to page everyone in the mall to look for a little boy with a sassy mouth.
I am kidding. Please do not call child protection services. Anyways. Santa, tonight, was improperly dressed. I want my $19.42 for that one photo back.
I had to write a piece to read aloud in class today. It is the last day of the semester and that is our only assignment. This is what I came up with:
Perfecting the Panic Attack
After my last episode I decided to fully shut myself in. I couldn’t take seeing or talking to anyone, anymore, for any reason. Even my therapy sessions have been over instant messenger. Stepping outside my front door for the first time in three months I knew that I was up against unfathomable odds. “It’s just a trip to the gas station” I kept repeating to myself as I climb into the car that I knew would start because I had requested of my brother to make sure that it was serviced while I was in my self imposed exile of all things human. This was an excellent first outing as I knew I could pay at the gas pump and avoid conversation. People looking at me and the idea of me looking at them was daunting. Eye contact is the most excruciating pain I have ever known.
As I pulled into a pumping spot I got out of the car and kept my head down. I was nearly finished topping off the tank when a man walked up behind me with my car keys in hand. “I believe you dropped these miss.”
As I grabbed the keys his bare hand touched mine. Now, I am not a germaphobe. I would rather lick the pavement under my feet than have him touch me again. Contact with the man sent me into an attack. I began the prescribed ritual of breathing in through my nostrils and out of my mouth. I was supposed to be breathing slowly and evenly but I could not. “Breathe slower dammit!” I thought to myself as I felt my head lighten and my mind lose control. I knew what was coming.
Fifteen minutes later I was being loaded into an ambulance in the care of professionals. All the poking and prodding done by these folks has never bothered me for a moment. I know that I cannot die when I am on a stretcher. After being released and sent home I took two weeks before I made another attempt at leaving. Things went pretty much the same way. The third time was a carbon copy of the first two. Over a period of months I was able to tolerate short outings without attacks. I still had them, just not so frequently. I was beginning to know the EMTs by name. I think they like me. One in particular named Rob is my favorite. I know his schedule now. He gets off work at 11pm. Tonight I am planning on dressing in my new outfit I bought online, the one with the low neck. I’ll go to Starbucks and sit in a squishy chair and strike up a conversation with a stranger. This way, when I pass out I cannot get bruised or dirty. I think if I can force an attack at 9 o’ clock I will be released just in time to ask if Rob will assist me out on his way home. It’s a fool proof plan.
It’s my birthday. I am officially 29 21. I went to work today, drove home in a snowstorm and tonight I will study for my finals. There doesn’t seem to be much excitement in birthdays after you turn 21. What’s there to look forward to? In exactly 6 years I am eligible to run for President of the US. That’ll be thrilling.
I never minded having a birthday close to the holidays. There is usually snow in Minnesota on my birthday. That makes it good enough for me. About 4 years ago my family started a new birthday tradition for me and my 2 cousins who also have December birthdays. We had pictures with our faces xeroxed onto a cake. The next year the cake had the picture of us holding the cake from the previous year, and so on. Sounds silly, and it is. But I love this new tradition and I am hoping that when we are 78, 90, and 80 respectably, we will have 65 years of infinity cake pictures.
I Google you and you Google me too. Or so I would like to think someone does. It’s amazing that nowadays we just have to type in the letters that someone was given at birth or marriage and we can find out amazing and/or useless things about them that they may or may not care that we know. It’s a well known fact that servers, certainly not at MY restaurant of employment, will get the name off the credit car receipt so that when they get home they can Google the attractive/enticing customer who’s table they walked past eight times more than necessary this morning at breakfast.
I think to a large degree it has become acceptable to do this third rate sort of investigating. I will openly admit that I have Googled every person I have gone on a date with in the past 5 years, all two of you. Three if you count that time I sat near that guy at Bellis Fair Mall. (I have been dying to get a Say Anything reference in here for weeks, deal with it) But I think it should just be accepted that you are going to have your name splattered across the internet. Thats the way it is. Well, not me, I am pretty un-Googlable. But go now, Google yourself if you have not already. You might find funny things from your past. Or you may just be bored. But if you haven’t already, you will go do it now.
The Pilver 