Strawberry Shortcake and Flavor Flav

Now last night was fun even though my part was only camera person and crown maker. Check out that crown! The Frat boy was all ready to go party without his "Flavor Flav" crown. Like I knew who or what a Flavor Flav was. Seems he is a washed up rapper from the 80's. Sort of like me, a washed up flapper from the 80's. And I am still behind but loving every minute of it. Strawberry is my daughter and Frat Boy is her guy since she was 14 and will be 20 this month. So.... Frat boy was "whining" cause Strawberry looked better then he did. She was "shining." Telling jokes and making other funnies. It was then I noticed her distinct ability to be an actress which is what she wants anyway. Why she is going to Cosmo school is beyond me unless she can do hair for the stars. Back to point which I always run off from. Strawberry became someone else with her new outfit on. Wish we could all spend $40 and become someone funny and witty and charming like Lucy! OK so Frat boy is sad. Me, I just want to work on my computer book and relax, b u t....I succumbed to his need considering I am Miss Creative. I pull out the old dusty scrap booking paper from under the bed and find GOLD. Then I find silver aluminum tape I got from a 3M salesman that used to live in my building. Then I found more 3M blue tape. Do not ask me why I kept it! And I do not hoard. The creative juices flowing caught me heading for the jewel box that still has 80's on up good stuff crammed in it. Found those old jewels we used to put over buttons! No kidding! Glued them on Frat Boys Crown of "Flavor Flav" and bingo wingo....Majic. No more sad Frat Boy. Oh I forgot his walking stick broke in half while I was scrounging up a crown and whalla, aluminum bumper tape to the rescue. I was willing to share it because I don't have a chrome bumper anymore so I wont need it. I know, get with the times. I did, I have a blue bumper now and blue 3M tape. I am glad those nasty button covers are out of my jewel box though. What was I thinking?

I Smell Grandma

Sounds gross huh? "I smell Grandma." Well it could be or not. You see I went to Macy's to buy my Estee Lauder Super Cologne as I have for the past twenty years or so. All I am really sure of is that the ducks are still flying south and I am upright. I prefer Chanel No.5 and every time I pass that counter I spray the bee-jee-bees out of my clothes, in my purse, on one of those teenie tiny cardboard perfume sample deals, on my hair and shoes. I want to buy it. Even though it is twice the price. I love Chanel No.5 lotion, and powder and perfume. But....I smell Grandma so I cant buy it. What I am saying is my wonderful loving but dead Grandma comes to check on me now and then. And I can smell her. I tell the truth. She smells like cheese and that is either because of lack of bathing on the old old farm, or because she was always making butter and seperating the cream from the top of the milk. And no its not me I am smelling doi, it's the real McCoy, Grandma Tillie. She separated the real milk from real cows out in the barn. Back to my point which is.....if I should die before I wake and I come visit any of my children or G-children, they have to remember the smell. And that smell is Estee Lauder Super Cologne. And when that day comes and they don't smell me in the spirit I will be really pissed that I didn't buy the Chanel No.5. Either one is better than cheese. Sorry Grams, but still glad to smell you now and then.

My Bag Lunch

I make a bag lunch every day to take to work. Do you? I figure I save a minimum of $6.00 a day times 20 work days a month equal $120.00 times 12 equals...I don't know...a good amount is all. And anyway I love peanut butter and jelly with smart balance butter under the jam...blueberry that is. Also take pretzels and two weight watchers chocolate mints. Sometimes peaches in a cup....and ice tea with lemon and sucralose in a tall used washed ice tea jar with a peanut butter lid or the original ice tea lid. One lid being green and one red, so I alternate for hoopla. I must need a life! OK now you have the 8 x 10 glossy of me eating lunch almost every day. Except the other day. Oh, I also have two cups of mildly weak coffee every morning as I walk Grace the dog. That means I cant have the iced tea until afternoon. Due to over caffinating my brain and emotions. Same diff. Last week I cranked open the iced tea while I was driving and listening to talk radio. I drank a swallow. Drank another swallow....noticed an oddness to my tea and chalked it up to the talk radio affecting me in all areas. Reps and Dems at it hard. Another swallow, weirdness! I always put the lid back on the tea jar each time just in case it might tip out of the holder. I happened to be at a red lite so I was able to pay better attention...as I lifted the lid to place it on the iced tea I noticed soemthing....eewww....icky poo all over the inside of the lid. Old thick Hard Peanut Butter inside my iced tea lid. Crap. I had been drinking tainted old P.B. in my Iced Tea. Here we go again, spitting in a paper towel just like the blog before last when Gracie kissed me unexpectedly in my mouth. Gross...which is worse? Old P.B. on/in my tea, or Gracie's tongue on mine after her licking herself. Equally gross a mondo. i.e. the Fonz. Eeyy! Not arrr, I don't do pirate doo....

Back to my lunch. I now double check the lids I use on my tea jar for lunch every day. Today is Saturday so I don't have to be concerned or watch for anything other than where I am stepping and what in. In more ways than one. You get it.

The "Dick-O-Lantern"

OK, couldn't think of one funny thing today..I dont even think this is funny or interesting.  Be back tomorrow..

Caught off Guard

OK sorry for the blurry photo, but I think you all get it! That is a, my dog, see the ears, and the raised leg and that is a tail hanging out the bottom.. Grace, my dog, has not had the tubal ligation, or hysterectomy which means she still comes "in heat." Why ever do they call it that! But she does it and she is a very clean little girl about it which means she takes care of herself (licks her v-j-j (Grey's Anatomy new word for "it") for a week solid every six months) which is what you are viewing in the blurry photo.....eeewww What's my point? I will tell you clearly. I came home from work, picked the little princess up to take her outside for to do her duty, at which time she was so excited to see me she turned to me and kissed my mouth inside and out!!! Oh my God I almost threw up. She has never done that before in all eleven months I have had her. I spit on the floor, I wiped my mouth on my shirt, stuck my tongue out and wiped it off with my coat..... Geez Louis-ie Gracie! What the H were you thinking? OK, back up, I know I need to think like a dog here. She uses her mouth to eat, drink, to clean herself, and to show love. But I am not a dog so I was not appreciative..... But I did tell her "So Sorry" for spitting out her kissy's. Yuk! Part II of this story: Yesterday I had my carpet shampooed and I was home for the big deal. And it was a big deal because there were some Grace training residue's here and there. Tom the carpet man (Green cleaning by the way) was still here when I had to leave for Insurance appointment. Grace dog noticed I was going to leave. Her eyes got really big and odd and scared...Tom looked at me and then Grace. I looked at Grace and then Tom and then back at Grace....and then Tom said, "You cant leave her, look at those eyes talking to you!" So I took her along, got into the car, called the insurance office to see if anyone was allergic and if it would be alright to bring my dog? I mean come on, who takes their dog to the State Farm Insurance offices for an appointment Hello? Bless that secretary's heart...she said, "Oh, I don't know what the office policy is regarding dogs coming here, but I will go see, please hold?" S H U T - U P! I am driving and on hold with a dog in my lap! So I did hold as I continued on my way. They loved her! She is such a sweetie girl that all who encounter her adore her. Especially P.S.Bell. (see past posts) Even while we are driving people show their interest in the passing cars. I didn't get my insurance at a less expensive rate, but I made a new friend. Her name is Katie Guenther, State Farm Agent. I was going to make sure I inquired as to whether she was a Democrat or Republican, but I liked her so much I decided I didn't want to know.. Anyway she laughed at my jokes and the last insurance man didn't...bye bye....you lose Am Fam Insurance last man.

The Great Getaway

I would prefer that title to be The Great Gatsby, but it isn't....its The Great Getaway. Today while at a clients home doing business for her and her husband, I opened the front door to put some items out on the porch. I was aware of "Clem" behind me of which I took great precaution of due to his intent stare. Not enough precaution. I thought teenage girls were sneaky, and husbands also can sneak about, and those twins, Frick and Frack do some amazing tricks on me. But Clem, he topped my list of anxiety ridden issues lately. Clem used to get to go outside! Cats that USED TO go outside really still like to do that. And if you stop them they get very slick about how to get back out there. In fact his name should be "Slick." I know you have already guessed, Slick Clem dashed out the door at 40 mph behind and beside me. I about freaked. I had just dealt with the Mailman all the while maintaining Slick Clem as still an insider which I was left in charge of. Well he was now an outsider and he isn't mine. And I charged alright, right out the door after him. I was asked to lock the doors when I left. That meant locking Slick Clem inside and who was now outside in the Halloweenie atmosphere without his Mom's knowledge. What did I do? Panicked! And ran out the door as fast as Slick Clem did. I was right on his heals and let me say he was prancing like a Wisconsin Buck in Springtime, collar and tags dingling in the brist Wisconsin wind. Now picture this 8 x 10 black and white glossy.....me running at my age after a prancing cat all the time talking to myself, and the mailman two houses down listening to mwa as well as whom-ever else was near. I am saying, "Oh my God, help me get this critter, because it isn't mine and somehow it got out on my watch and Jeez there goes that client and she knows the Mayor and I am toast.....dad gum cat what are you thinking? Never mind I know.....and I am on your tail." I am saying all these things and more for the neighbors and the mailman to hear. Not to mention my ad is on the side of my car so I cant hide who I am! Slick Clem and I get two houses down and he stops. YES! I calmed myself and asked him politely to come here dudie dude....and would you believe that prayer I said in transit back there worked. He turned around and came right to me. I picked him up and again talked all the way back. "OK dude cat, don't scratch me, do you even have nails, or bite me, or try to get away before I get you home, Oh God Please don't let this cat jump." He didn't. All the drama was for nothing. Well not for nothing because that was trauma drama. Hey losing someones precious pet is no joke. I am taking deep breaths as I relay this on blog paper. Here's the better part....that cat was pissed at me after I deposited him inside. He looked at me and hissed. Well didn't he know I was carrying him back home? And I thought he was Slick. Not only did he hiss at me, he walked over to me with that Clint Eastwood tough guy stroll and wrapped both his front legs around my leg and hissed. I peed my pants! He had control. Then I said, "Go away cat!" (I said it firmly but kindly) He didn't, but I did!

Thirty Years, Back at Me

OK so that is me Freezing my ars off with one of my G-daughter-twins. We are watching her sister play the "soccer" game ..... and may I add again, while Freezing. Notice the earmuffs and blankee's. Besides I am sitting on one of those football game mini plastic seats so my ars is not in direct contact with the METAL bleachers. What the H ever happened to good old wood bleachers? Natural Wood hello! I Suppose these metal job bleachers are outsourced like everything else has been. Even our underwear is made in some foreign country. OK so back to my point of post.

Thirty years back that handsome Hollywood lighting man on my last blog post was the outfielder at age 7ish. Yup, his Dad and I sitting in the stands, watching him do all sorts of physical movements out there while the other children played baseball, or softball or whatever it was called when they hit the ball with the bat and ran around three bases. My little boy would dance and play all by himself out there in left field UNLESS that ball came near him. You see we are a smarter family....we don't mess around until its necessary! My G-daughter out there on that soccer field "skips" through most of the game. Skips, no shiet, skips, not runs, skips. That is UNLESS that ball comes near her! Then she rally's to the play. Please note that her Father, My son, sitting a front of me at these games, is losing it! He wants so much for her to be a constant player. He is in sales so you can understand I am sure... Go Go Go....Sell Sell Sell ..and so on. Not that he isn't understanding because he is a wonderful Father. Back to my point. Cells have memories people. Even after thirty years the evidence "skips" out at us once again. Just go with the flipping flow. I mean look at the boy that danced while the others played ball. He is in Hollywood Hello! He is a wonderful person......and so is the little she~ She and He share something special. Hope the pressure isn't too great from the bleachers to be more. Love Forever, Nana