Father's Day

It's tomorrow, in case you didn't know.  Amazingly, I not only have a gift for The Daddler, but I've wrapped it!  Kiddo bought a grandpa card, which I'll sign.  Don't tell, but I bought him a really cool AM/FM/weather band clock radio.  It's rechargeable.  The last time we had a tornado threat, he asked me about his weather radio.  It was ancient and I'd given it to Goodwill.  I felt guilty.  He likes to keep abreast of the weather.

One of the selling points of the Good House was the walk-in closet in The D's master suite.  He and Mother used to hunker down in theirs when the tornado sirens were blaring.  Mother would call me the next day to check on us, and invariably, I'd slept through the storm.  I used to be a very heavy sleeper.  Pre-Lucy.  And Pre-Bulimic Beulah.  And Pre-Kiddo.  After Beulah threw up on me one night, I'm constantly on guard for retching sounds.  And of course, when you have a baby, you hear every little sound.  Oh, I forgot about the Psycho Squirrel right out of Caddy Shack.  That landed me into group therapy.  Which only contributed to my sleep-deprived insanity.  That's a very, very long story.  Think of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.  Sans ECT. 

I can't talk about the Lucy sitch right now.  Let's just say that she's been a little, ummm, neurotic.  It's somewhat of a love/hate relationship.  She made big points today, though, when she charmed my great (or is it grand?) niece and nephew.  So sweet.  I'm still mad about my sandals, though.

We had a great pre-Father's Day lunch.  I had a nice nap.  Took it easy.  Even had a nice little respite with Kiddo on the patio.  We're actually getting along these days.

It's almost 8, so I'm gonna mosey on along.  Enjoy my incredibly cool and efficient new HVAC system.  I need to give Lu-Lu a bath.  Why, oh why, does she roll in the dirt?  It's funny.  I was thinking about my friend's dog Charlie, who was attacked by a neighbor's dog named Sally, and my Lucy.  And the fact that she's a regular Pig Pen.  Forget about the Tao of Pooh.  Peanuts has all the answers... 

Too Much Testosterone

For reasons upon which I'll elaborate later, my house has been swarming with men this week.  As in, ummm, maybe 12 different ones.  Not counting Kiddo and The Daddler.

Don't jump to conclusions.  I didn't start a brothel.  I just spent every last cent I had in an attempt to be a kind to our big blue marble.  But, as everyone knows, even philanthropy is selfish.  There's a payoff.  Feeling good (less guilty) about one's success.  I suppose my predilection toward all things green is related to my need to justify my excessive use of fossil fuels, for the spoiled, selfish purpose of turning my home into a live-in refrigerator when I need to sleep/think/decompress. 

Which is a convoluted way of saying that, on an impulse, I installed a whole new HVAC system in my home.  My breakeven point will be 2045, I think.  As far as the money goes.  But when it comes to comfort and conscience, it'll be worth it tonight.

As if that weren't enough, my stupid, stupid, weinie 1/2 HP builder's grade garbage disposal broke down for the third time in a year.  I decided to switch it out for a 1 HP model.  At three times the cost.  But considering the time and money and frustration I'd invested in the sucky disposal I had, it was worth every penny.  And I got a good deal on Amazon.

I'm kinda weird.  I pride myself on wearing thrift shop clothes I find for 99 cents.  But I spend $17K on a new HVAC system.  Actually, though, that includes insulation, ductwork, new return vents, new flooring in attic, installation of electronic thermostats, etc...  Oh, don't forget the very sweet gift of home-grown cucumbers and yellow squash.

And I go all out on my garbage disposer.  Travel.  Gifts.  Anything for my house.  Within reason.

OK, I'm rambling now.  It's time to bond with my female pets.  Mia (Bulemic Beulah) and Lucy (the maniacal runaway neurotic).  Kiddo is home.  The D is happy after having his amazing dinner.  Of corn on the cob, tomatoes, cucumbers,  roasted medley of squash, onions, potatoes and carrots.  Oh, don't forget the fresh purple hull peas.  Yummmm...

Need to run.  All of a sudden, I'm hungry...

Adventure

A unique opportunity just came my way.  Something I would never think of.  Ever.

A trip to Vietnam and Cambodia.

I know.  Especially since I've never even been to Europe.  Brazil is the extent of my overseas travel.  Not counting the fact that I lived in Japan for a year.  Which doesn't count, because I was a year old when I left.  Yup.  I was born there.  I'm a proud Air Force Brat.

One of my BFFs, Mel (my S.C. travel buddy), called this morning and said she was planning to go to Vietnam and Cambodia in November.  To her cousin's wedding.  Wanted to know if I'd think about going with her.  At first, I thought, "No way."  I'm old enough to remember the Vietnam war.  I was a kid at the time, but my parents watched the news every night, (The D is still a news-hound), and consequently, I saw lots of footage of the war.  No Cartoon Network or Disney Channel back then.  The only cartoons were on Saturday mornings.  At the risk of dating myself (no one else seems to want to), I'll tell you that it was a huge deal when cassette tape recorders came out.  My little sister and I would tape I Dream of Jeannie and listen to it over and over again.  We were desperate for entertainment.  Because back then, we didn't have texting, YouTube, FaceBook, DVDs, DVRs, On Demand, smart phones...you get the idea.  Our choices, not counting Saturday mornings, were TV Wrestling Saturday afternoon, playing outside, and reading.  The crazy thing is that we had so much free time.  We didn't have to spend six or eight hours on homework every night.  No summer reading assignments.  No competitive sports - my athletic career consisted of baton lessons when I was seven and skating classes when I was eight.  Or nine.  And playing HORSE with my brother.  Tackle football sometimes.  And having knock-down-drag-outs with my sibs.  Riding my bike.  Jumping on the bed.  Risking a broken neck in my feeble attempt at cheerleading/gymnastics.  And chasing Pooh when he ran away.

Lucy does that, too.  It makes me crazy.  But it's kinda sweet, sentimental, and reminiscent of the good ole' days.  Luckily, she's gotten too big to get through the iron gates in the backyard.  All the treats The Daddler administers have an upside.

Back to my point, though.  Mel has traveled the world.  She and Roger planned their wedding in Iceland, but that stupid volcano eruption put the kibosh on that.  As she started talking about the Indochina peninsula, it sounded better and better.  First, it's cheap.  Next, it's undiscovered by tourists, and therefore, unspoiled.  Beautiful.  Then there's the thing about going with Mel.  We have so much fun together.

Ok, all this to say that I'm seriously considering it.  I need to do some research, including cash flow projections, but I think it would be the opportunity of a lifetime.  It's not until November, but this kinda thing requires lots of preparation.  Probably a visa.  Malaria medicine.  Hepatitis vaccinations.  Tetanus.  Typhoid fever. 

Lots to do.  Better run.  Over and out...

Conundrum

I'm in one.  Actually, three or four.  Or five.  Unfortunately, I have trouble making decisions.  Which is the only reason I can go to the mall and leave without spending one red cent.  In spite of having two X chromosomes.  But I think like a man.  And sometimes, I act like one, too.  Not like a lady.  I won't elaborate except to mention my inner frat boy.  If you could see my bedroom...  Delta Tau Chi has nothing on me. 

And that, my friend, is why I'm destined to be a lonely old woman with too many dogs.  Which is better than being a cat-lady.  Since I'm allergic to cats, and I'm tired of cleaning up after Beulah the Bulimic Cat, and I love Lucy so much, I'd call myself a canineophile.  If that's a word. 

It doesn't help that B the BC has become so neurotic that she peed on me when I tried to carry her into The D's living room for a nice little visit.  Lucy is great with cats.  She doesn't blink an eye.  But the Charlie incident was traumatic.  B had a near-death experience.  It's a long story, though, so I'll save it for later.

I saw an ad in the paper today.  Border collie puppies for sale.  OMG.  This is one of my conundrums.

Another involves a classified ad for a financial analyst in today's paper.  Wow.  I can't think of anything more exiting.  Seriously.  Unfortunately, I'm afraid it wouldn't mesh well with my Daddler responsibilities.  But then, I wonder if we could work out a seasonal arrangement of sorts.  Kinda like my auditor days.  I worked lots of hours during the first 3 1/2 months of the year and took it easy for the remainder.  And since earnings season is the first month of each quarter, I'm thinking I could finagle my way into a trial run.  I'm not sure.  Hence, the conundrum.

Well, that's all for now.  I'm going to work on my resume.  In case I decide to apply for the f/a job.  After that, I'm going to try my hand at the grill.  Using The D's method.  Which is incredible...

New Phone

Finally.  I have one.  I'm proud to report that I had quite a few emails and text messages waiting for me.  Including two apologies, because they thought I was ignoring them for some unknown reason.  I know, it's true that most of the time, "I lost my phone" or "My battery died" is code for "I didn't want to talk to you."  Or worse, "I'm just not that into you."  Now, I'll be the first to admit that I do get angry/frustrated/annoyed with my friends on occasion (as they do with me, if you can believe that), but I pretty much let them know about it.  I hate conflict, but I hate avoidance worse.  So ususally, I vent my spleen, and then I get over it.  I'm very forgiving.  With an exception or two.  Well, one exception.  (Previous posts re the Emotional Vampire discuss that sitch.)

About my new phone.  It's pretty cool.  4G.  Droid Razr Maxx.  Why the heck can't anyone spell things right?  And while I'm at it, who decided to eliminate the space bar when naming companies.  Probably the same people who changed everything to acronyms.  As an extremely dyslexic person (have you noticed that "dyslexic" is confusing to spell?), I had to stop and think about my firm's name when I worked for KPMG.  It was still "Peat Marwick" to me.  And the truth is, to this very day, I can't tell you what "KP" stood for.  It was some strange Norweigian-named firm PM had merged with.  Same thing with BDO Seidman.  Accountants are such lemmings.

Oh, well.  Enough of that.  I've been very productive today.  I installed The D's new WaterPik (misspelled and missing a space) shower head.  Watered the three dozen flowering plants I've recently acquired.  Done a coupla' loads o' laundry.  Cleaned the kitchen (Herculean task, that was!)   Ran a mile, did some sit-ups, push-ups, and yoga stretches.  Oh, I jumped rope with my new weighted-handle jump rope.  Without falling.  Barely.  Sifted through three dozen magazines and filled a whole recycle bin with them.

And last, but not least, posted to my blog.  But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.  So that's it for now.  Later...

No Phone

I don't have one.  Mine crashed.  My cell phone, that is.  Unfortunately, I don't know any of my friends' phone numbers.  I've had to resort to sending messages on Words With Friends on my Kindle.  Asking for phone numbers.  And explaining why I've been so elusive.

But the truth is, it's liberating.  I've even contemplated getting rid of it all together.  I know.  That's drastic.  But I do have a home phone.  Which I refer to as a wall phone.  It's cordless, but still, it plugs into the wall.

If I'm completely honest with myself, I'd admit that the reassurance I get from knowing I can be reached in an emergency is more than offset by the feeling of being constantly on call.

But if I'm even more honest with myself, I'd admit that I'm really looking forward to having lots of texts, missed calls, and voice mails waiting when I finally plug back in to reality.

One more picture from Charleston.  Our first-hand experience with Tropical Depression Beryl.

Charleston

I spent a long weekend with my girl, Mel.  I flew to Columbia, SC, where she was spending a couple weeks doing her patriotic duty at Fort Jackson.  Paying back the Army for dental school.  Taking care of the GIs' teeth.  She had Monday off for Memorial Day, so we decided to head to Charleston.  It's about 120 miles from Columbia.

We lucked into a hotel room in the downtown historic district.  Pretty amazing since the Spoleto Festival had just started and it was a holiday weekend.  Great rates, too.  More about that later.

Mel had rented a convertable, (just for me), so when we finally figured out how to put the top down, we slathered ourselves in sunscreen and took off on our big adventure.

There's so much to tell now, but unfortunately, no time.  I'm still catching up from being gone.  For now, though, here are a few things I remember fondly:

Shrimp and grits; peeking into all the beautiful courtyards, like the one above; the old cemetery tucked away in the heart of the city; walking along the waterfront; taking the water taxi across the harbor and getting caught in a sudden rainstorm, getting soaked, and drying off from the wind before we got to the other side; room service (too many times) of sliders and fries and the densest chocolate cake in the world; hot stone massages and pedicures; wandering through the historic district for hours; venturing out for a late night dessert at a really cool restaurant; getting a free dessert since they brought pots du creme instead of the chocolate pate we'd ordered; and of course, lots of shopping in funky little shops and a huge, open air market.

We packed a lot into a few short days, so I have more to tell about, plus some great pictures.  For now, though, I need to run.

More later...