Today I finally did something I've been wanting to do for a long time now. A few weeks ago I signed up to be a volunteer at our local art museum, and today was my first day of training. It wasn't much to learn, but it was fun.
So today I learned how to run the front desk, and to be a "greeter."
Obviously.
There's really not that much else to say about it, so I guess that's it for today.
I went to visit my grandma in the hospital again today, and on the way home I saw the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen. Not even in Hawaii were the sunsets this amazing. It's possible that this particular seen was so enchanting because I rarely see the sun set right on the horizon since I live in a little valley. I usually see the sun set on top of the mountain right outside my window, and it's usually not much to get excited about.
A few minutes after seeing this memorable sunset through my rear view mirror, a huge and glorious full moon met me around the corner. Usually the sight of a full, orange moon coming over the hill pleases me like nothing else, but somehow today it just didn't do much for me. It was wonderful, but after seeing that stunning scene with the sun, it just didn't quite have the magic it usually does for me.
I haven't figured out yet if I've learned anything from this experience, but I can't stop thinking about it. Somehow I feel a little sad.
60% of women characters in online role playing games are actually played by men.
Or something like that. I don't even know if it's true, but Rebecca read it somewhere today and I liked it. She said it's because they get treated better and can make more money being strippers.
Or something like that. I love it. It says so much.
I just got in from another thrilling game of hide-and-seek outside in the dark of night. A few times a year my boys and their friends will talk me into playing with them for an hour or so. It's hard to say no to a group of begging teenage boys, so I'll put on a bunch of black clothes and kick their little asses around the 'hood.
So what could I possibly learn from this? A few things. I don't want to give away any of my stealthy new hiding secrets, but I will say this-
I'm the fucking queen of hiding.
I only got found once and that's because one of the losers ratted me out.
It's a little embarrassing when you find out one of the neighbors is watching you, and it's kind of hard to explain what you're doing. Especially when one of the favored hiding spots is in a giant garbage can and you're certain someone has to be down there somewhere. It's also a little creepy when you're crouched down in some ingenious yet calf-cramping pretzle position for 15 minutes and you feel something crawling on you.
Somehow this isn't exactly what I meant when I wished to be surrounded by boys when I grew up, but we have a lot of fun and I get to feel like a kid again. I highly recommend it, but, play at your own risk. Don't blame me if someone calls the cops on you. Or you get shot, or eaten by a dog, or break your leg or whatever might happen. That would be your own fault for listening to someone who's almost 40 and running around at night with black pantyhose on her head.
I learned a few things today, and pretty much all of them are from this new book I bought the other day. It's a pretty good story that takes place in Hawaii, and I'm enjoying forgetting the rest of the world as I get more and more absorbed into it.
One of the things I learned is a new Hawaiian word. One character in the book is named Kekipi, which means "rebel." I love that.
I also learned what pikake is. In one chapter, the guy is describing his lovely Hawaiian yard and I didn't understand what he was talking about, so I looked it up. Pikake is a very fragrant Hawaiian jasmine, commonly used in lei making. It's named after a peacock, because the island princess Kaiulani adored both the bird and the flower.
Lastly, I've found that reading a book about a beautiful, tropical island that you miss terribly, at the same time you're fantasizing about escape, is horribly agonizing.
My Colonel told me today that the sea level is about 400 feet higher now than it was 10,000 years ago.
I don't know why and right now I don't care, but I'll believe him so I can go out and play.
If for some reason you want to learn more about it, just Google search "sea level" and read it for yourself on Wikipedia.
Until tomorrow...
Lately it feels as if my alone-time cup time hath runneth completely dead and dry. I've been dreaming about giant bubbles that I crawl into and escape from the rest of the world. Today I was feeling a definite need to spoil myself, but I only had about an hour and a credit card that might work. So I took a chance and went down to the bookstore in search of a specific book, and luckily for me, they had exactly what I was looking for. Luckier still, my credit card didn't embarrass me.
I felt stupidly guilty buying myself a brand new book. A hardcover no less. Usually I prefer an old, used paperback for 50 cents from a secondhand store. I hate thinking about a book being read only once and by only one person. I love a book that's been around and seen some action. But the book I was craving wasn't available in paperback yet, and couldn't be found in the used section, so a brand new hardcover it was. Step one in spoiling myself.
Encouraged by the cooperative mood of my little plastic friend, I decided to blow my calorie watching and get one of those fucking awesome sandwiches at my favorite place. (Where were you Miss Lora? I called.) And just because I was feeling so, I don't know, Donna or something, I decided to try a new tea. I'm glad I did. It was perfect. Steps two and three accomplished.
When I got back to the office, I felt like there was still something else I needed, but I didn't quite know what it was. As I got out of my car and started walking towards the door, the vision of sitting at my desk with these new treasures suddenly felt like impending gross misconduct. So I turned around and went back to sit in my sunshine warmed, silver bullet momma van. Addendum step four, complete.
Now let me tell you what I learned about 4 minutes later.
An hour reading a brand new book, all ALONE in my car, while eating slightly warmed proscuitto and brie on Sonoma French bread, is almost as good as a few hours at the spa.
Actually, it might even be better.
I was just reading in our local paper about a radio show a guy in town is putting on called "Community Conversation ." He puts two local people together from completely opposite sides of an issue, and records each of their perspectives for 15 minutes with no interruptions. A point/counterpoint kind of thing. So this week he chose a woman who writes a column in our local paper (no, not me) whom he refers to as a "peacenik", and put her up against a local representative of the Minutemen- guys who've taken it upon themselves to bear arms and do some "proactive enforcement of our national security protections and our immigration legal code." The "debate" of sorts, would of course be about this huge issue of illegal immigration and whether or not a person can be illegal.
This "peacenik" just happens to be the same woman who read to us in the park on Mother's Day, (click here if you want to read more about it) and I really love her.
AND/BUT....
I also have some similar issues with border patrol as these, passionate, civil defense peeps.
Wow, I thought. This is going to be good! I couldn't wait to hear it, but then I read that it aired last Friday. Crap, I missed it. Then seriously, like 5 minutes later I see Joan, the peaceful columnist I was just reading about, across the street chatting with my neighbor. I jumped up and ran over there (barefoot and wearing my beloved tiara no less) and asked her all about it. I was all prepared for some good discussion, but that woman quietly and calmly taught me a pretty little lesson.
She prepared herself by getting educated on the issue, and learning as much as she could about the views of the opposition. Then she used her 15 minutes to discuss the things both parties agreed on. When she was finished, the guy from the other side actually came over and shook her hand. He'd been all prepared for a blow out war on the topic and had no rebuttal.
Beautiful.
So I saw and learned today that there are definitely peaceful ways to discuss hot issues, and there are ways we can all work together by simply beginning where we agree.
Or something like that. I can't quite explain how I felt when she finished her story, but she made me think.
I also learned today that a cop will pull over a speeding ambulance if the lights aren't on.
During the transfer of my grandma from one hospital to another, some bored cop had the balls to pull them over for speeding.
It feels really good to hear your boss bragging about how great his newest big idea is when you know it's actually your big great idea.
Especially when he's pitching it to somebody else using your exact words.
It feels really fucked up to hear your boss bragging about how great his newest big idea is when you know it's actually your big great idea.
Especially since it would be sooooo easy to mention your name to the person he's trying to pitch it to. Extra especially when that person he's talking to knows, likes and respects you and would buy the entire deal if he knew who's idea it really was.
I was a VERY naughty girl last night and I didn't get a chance to blog my eagerly sought after daily lesson for yesterday. But what happened yesterday (or very early this morning) happened yesterday (or, you know, very early this morning,) and today is a crazy, beautiful new day. So what did I learn on this bittersweet day of sunshine and sadness? Well, I'll tell you, but it's only a random useless fact that I found somewhat interesting.
Peter Pan is one of only two Disney cartoon movies that feature two parents that aren't dead or die during the movie.
Yay Disney eh?
Today was the first day of rehearsal (yuck, I hate that word) for the play my son is going to be in, so I wanted to look up the lyrics for the songs he'll be singing so we can practice with him. Somehow I came across this little piece of trivia and thought I'd share.
You're welcome.
I've been needing to wash my car for about a year now, so when I saw a group of kids doing a carwash in front of the library today, I made a mental note to come back after lunch. BUT, on the way back later, I saw another group of kids doing a carwash just up the block. Suddenly I had to decide which bunch of brats was going to get my money, so I quickly looked for pro's and con's of each group. It came down to two things- who looked like they'd do the best job, and where was the money going to go. Using one form of prejudice to decide the former and another kind for the latter, I rapidly made the important decision. I learned something about myself too, even if it only applies today.
I'm rooting for the underdog.
Usually I root for the one I think deserves to win, but lately I feel like a bit of an underdog and I certainly feel like I deserve to win. So, instead of the spoiled brat rich football kids taking my 10 bucks, it was the group of "at-risk" boys from a "residential treatment center" where they "turn hurt into hope." Yikes. If they don't deserve to win just due to that lame-ass statement, then I'll wash my damn car myself. Maybe next year.
A writer friend of mine has a very clever and colorful way of writing. Sometimes he's so canny that I feel like a retard when I'm reading it. Like I don't quite grasp it all. Like sometimes I have to simultaneously refer to a common English dictionary like a translator guide just to get the gist of it. So today I learned a few new words, compliments of Daedalus Howell.
Twee- affectedly dainty or quaint
Drubbing- to beat with a stick or the like
Today when Rebecca and I learned these words, she cleverly suggested that "Twee Drubbing" would be a great name for a band. I agree. Anybody reading here play a flute? I don't think a band with a name like that would be complete without a little Jethro Tull-ish tootling.
And while we're on the subject of words, my Colonel who is well known for his random fact spewing, came out of no-where with some info about the word "sinister." He really needs new glasses, so he's slightly obsessed with his eyes right now, and spontaneously remembered something his optometrist once said about left eyes being something-something sinister. So we looked it up.
As common knowledge, one of the definitions of sinister is- "bad, evil, or wicked." What I learned today was another definition- "of or on the left side." Which reminded me of my high school French class, where we learned that "left" en Francais is "gauche." In both French and English, the word gauche is used to mean tacky, awkward, or lacking social grace. So....
Tacky is evil. And vice-versa.
Right?
It's been a sucky day today. I had lunch with a new friend from the film festival, but I'm pretty sure she was just trying to get me to join in with some pyramid scheme, music download scam thing. I really like her though, and I didn't feel pressured or anything, but you know how those things go. The more people you sign up, the more money you supposedly make, and for "doing practically nothing" you could get rich. I don't know if that was her intention or not, but I felt a little used.
Then later today my friend bailed on me, (she's sick and I don't blame her for wanting to stay home) and now instead of being in San Francisco seeing one of my favorite bands, The Boxcar Saints, I'm sitting here poopy and kinda bored. And I don't have much to blog about.
I did come across something today I somehow wasn't aware of.
Massachusetts is the only state that allows same-sex marriage.
I can't believe that of all the states, not even the great state of California, Massachusetts would be the only one open-minded enough to accept gay marriage. I don't know why the other 49 have a problem with it. There are millions of things to be bitchy about, and two men or women wanting to legally declare their love seems like a waste of bad breath. I personally find marriage to be an outdated religious concept that's had it's reason once upon a time, but we're beyond that now and it's time we ALL move on to something newer and smarter.
Jerry Falwell is gone.
Well, today is Mother's Day. It used to be my least favorite day of the year until I wised up and let go of my pre-meditated fantasies of being queen for a day. It just never happened and I accept that now. I'm a lot happier without those unrealistic, ricockulously commercialized expectations. Or chocolate. Or carnations. Or a crown. Seriously, I feel better about it all now.
So today I did this, an alternative to today's notions of what Mother's Day should be. (click it because I'm getting a nice, well deserved massage right now and I don't have time to explain) (yeah right) Now don't get me wrong. There are few things I hate more than mother's clubs and peace rallies, and that's not what this was. For me it was about getting away from the bullshit ideas of honoring women with calories and useless crap, and doing something with meaning and real emotion. And so for the second day in a row, all five of us spent some quality time together. We got picnic stuff from my favorite deli and walked the bike path down to the park to hear the story, "The Great Silent Grandmother Gathering," by Sharon Mehdi. It's about how two grandma's peacefully saved the world, at least for one day. Or something like that. Anyway, I was feeling all empowered when I got home, like I could actually change the world. So I decided to start right on my own street.
We have some new neighbors a few houses down, and every day the garbage pile in front of their house gets bigger and bigger. The picture above is not an actual picture of their house, but it's pretty similar. It really pisses me off when I turn down our cute little street, so happy to be home, and there, spread all the way to the middle of the road, are empty plastic bottles, cigarette packs, car parts, beer cans and more. We used to have the worst front yard on the block, but only because we have toys and dead flowers everywhere.
So today when we got home, I grabbed a garbage bag, walked straight down to their pit, and picked up all their fucking trash. Then I left it by an empty, double-sized can of Budweiser in their front yard.
I didn't really learn anything new today. I already know that littering is a cultural thing, and it's kind of the norm in certain neighborhoods around here. But today I put the wheels in motion for tomorrow, where hopefully I'll learn that my actions today were enough to teach these people about respect and the way we like to live here in California.
We gave up on family vacations years ago because being with three boys in a car, not to mention anywhere else, just wasn't worth the stress. We can barely go across town sometimes without wishing for nuclear bombs to strike and end our misery.
But today we piled all three kids into the Momma-van and we went to visit my grandma. She's having surgery on Monday and I wanted her to have one last look at her great-grandsons, just in case, you know. And, to my complete surprise, there was almost no fighting for the entire 2-1/2 hour trip. Same thing on the way home. Amazing. It's possible that this miracle is due to the fact that I put one kid in the front, one in the middle next to me, and one in the way back, but it doesn't really matter how it happened. The important thing, I think, maybe, I guess, is that we're all still alive.
So anyways, what did I learned today? Well, since I've been sick the last few days, I didn't really spend much time with grandma. While she ooh-ed and aahh-ed over how huge "her" boys were getting, I checked out their local newspaper, sort of comparing it to the fabulous one I write for. It's been a while since I read news that wasn't exclusively wine country navel gazing, and it was surprising to see the world news I've been missing.
Judge Kenneth Robertson Jr. is my newest hero.
Finally, something that makes sense. I read that this guy made some Alabama Wal-mart shoplifters stand in front of the store wearing signs that read, "I'm a thief. I stole from Wal-mart."
Ahh-haahaaa! I wish I could spell laughing my ass off. That's the greatest thing I've heard since my proposal for all criminals to wear a giant bell around their necks like my neighbors poor cat.
Then I read a story about a stupid, irresponsible, semi-local cop.
An off-duty officer left his gun in the bathroom of a bar about 30 minutes from where I live, and he isn't even in trouble for it. A loaded gun in a fucking bar! Click here if you don't believe me.
My aunt (and biggest fan) was also at my grandma's house today, and she was telling us about the new dog she adopted from the SPCA (or whatever the letters are.)
If you're over 60 and get a pet that is older than 6, adoption fees are only $18.00 instead of the usual $100. This is what they call the 6-60 plan.
I had no idea.
Unbelievable? I know. Totally.
Well, this one isn't actually me. I just wish I really had this nifty little contraption today.I can't really say that I learned much,but I did watch a lot of TV, where I discovered two things.
There were so many shows starting with "Judge" than I couldn't count or remember them all,
and
every other commercial is about some bullshit drug that nobody really needs.
And I thought this was pretty funny- The Nose Pouch
and this- Tissue box covers using your own photo's.
I have a good excuse for missing yesterday. I was abducted by aliens.
Ok, not exactly aliens. There was only one.
Alright, so he's not actually an alien. But I did get abducted. Sort of.
Without prior arrangements on my part, my Colonel and I snuck off in the middle of the day yesterday for a little overnight get-away. We were only about an hour from home, but we could have been in another state for how far away it felt. It was wonderful. And I learned some things too.
Always pack a few candles in your suitcase.
Hotel-room keycard thingys work without electricity.
There are plenty of ways to entertain yourselves in a dark hotel room without cable TV. (Well, I might have known that already, but I learned a few new ways last night.)
After playing/losing a bit at the same Indian casino I was just at last week with my friend, the Colonel and I came back to a very dark hotel on a very dark street. Realizing the power was out, we went hunting for beer. Oh, and candles. Luckily we found an open Safeway that still had power a few blocks away. We headed straight to the "ethnic" food aisle for some of those interesting Jesus candles, because they were cheap and funny and we had no money. I love those things. I buy one every once in a while just for the art.
We decided to get the three weirdest ones they had. We grabbed one like in this picture here, because it was weird and cool looking. It says, "La mano mas poderosa," which I just learned means, "Most powerful hand."
Our second choice featured a depressed, half-naked, abused and starving man, wearing a skimpy red dress and limping with a crutch. Not only is that fun, but a wild dog is licking the blood off one of his many wounds and another rabied pack mate can't wait to get in on the action. This was obviously the least popular candle on the shelf, as there was so much dust covering the wick that I was afraid to light it. I don't know who this Lazaro guy is, but maybe some other day I'll blog about him. Here's the best image I could find, but it's pretty small.
Our last selection was the bloodiest Jesus we could find, complete with blood-colored red wax. I can't even read the ghetto-gangsta writing on it to tell what it says, but I swear it looks like "Homo." His light shined for us in the most holy room, where he could have philosophical conversations with his uncle, the porcelain God. Geez-us, that was bad. Sorry.
So today, as instant karma for making fun of religious icons, I have been sneezing almost non-stop. Wait a sec. Is karma a religious thing? I think it is.
Oh yeah. I also learned that these aren't really called Mexican candles. They're referred to as Catholic candles. Which reminds me of my newest bumper sticker idea. "Religion gives God a bad name."
Aaaa-chooo! Sorry, did that get on you?
Earlier this evening as my 16 year old and I were leaving the farmer's market, he told me something totally sweet and unexpected.
I don't embarrass him in front of his friends.
"You know, when I'm with my friends and their parents come over, they get all mad and embarrassed. I never feel like that when you come over. I know you're cool and my friends like you."
Wow.
Really? I don't embarrass him? What am I doing wrong here? Maybe I should start scratching my ass in public or something. I need help here! Ideas please.
Today I learned 17 ways to tie my shoes.
I've been completely brain dead today. I think I might be getting sick or something because even though I've had twice as much tea today as I usually do plus 2 cups of coffee which I normally can't handle, my damn eyes won't stay open. I feel like total crap. Needless to say, I didn't really learn much today. Hey, that rhymes.
Last night before we got to the tattoo shop party, I was pretty tired and not feeling very social, so for the first half hour after we got there, I sat on the couch looking through tattoo books and stuff. One book was called, "Meet Mr. Product" and had every single logo character made for the last hundred years or something like that. It was pretty interesting, and I remembered things from my childhood that I'd totally forgotten. Like these Oscar Mayer weiner puppets I used to play with at my grandmas.
His name is Rastus.
I forgot how to spell it just now, so I went and looked it up. Then I learned who he was for real. Maybe.
It's thought that the Chicago waiter who made five bucks to dress like a chef and pose for the ad was named Frank White.
There's no absolute proof that this is true. An unmarked "colored" grave in Woodlawn Cemetary in Leslie, Michigan, inspired some woman to find out who he was, and somehow she came to the conclusion that this was guy on the box.
Check this out.
Can you believe that shit?
Wow. I need to calm down. I just got home from an anniversary party at the tattoo shop down the street, where I learned, among many other interesting things, that:
Punk Rock is alive and slamming.
Oh my god, I felt like I was in 8th grade again, but instead of getting caught by my dad, I was worried about getting caught by my kids! I had a great time watching everyone get excited about some guy who showed up that I'd never heard of. Lars Frederiksen is apparently from some big punk band called Rancid. I don't know. My head is pounding and I need to relax.
I just got home from spending the entire afternoon with an old friend up at an Indian casino, wasting money and having fun. Danyell is crazy and I totally love her, especially since she taught me how to really play.
ALWAYS bet max.
Typically I sit at the penny or nickel machines and walk out with the same 20 bucks I walked in with, if not a few dollars more. Sometimes I get a little risky and play more than 5 lines for a few spins, but usually I'm just happy playing the bonus games that pop up occasionally and getting free drinks. But this chick, she's a player. She doesn't just bet max, she bets max max, playing two machines at once. She nearly died when she saw my silly little 3-cent bets, and told me the only way to win anything is to bet it all. I don't really care about winning, but I gave it a try.
It was exciting!
When you win, you win big. And when you lose, well, you lose big. I only lost $60, but for me it was huge. I don't care, I had a really good time.
I was a bad girl at work today. After I kicked some Sudoku ass, I wasted more time doing a crossword puzzle. It's been a long time since I've done a crossword, but I kicked it's ass too. The only thing that stumped me was 66-down, "female lobster." Female lobster? Female lobster, hmmm. I couldn't get it, so I cheated and looked at the answers.
A female lobster is called a hen.
At least according to Wayne Robert Williams and his damn puzzle. I looked up "female lobster" when I got home, and I didn't find anything to confirm Mr. Williams claim. Maybe I'll send him an educational e-mail.
I did learn something real about female lobsters from my search though.
A female lobster attracts a male lobster by pissing out of a hole near her eye. When she finds the male she wants, she'll go inside his condo and slowly take off her shell. The male must resist all urges to eat her (oh my) and gently turn her over onto her back. Softly holding her limp and vulnerable body with his big, dangerous claws, he quickly inserts a pair, yes a pair, of his "swimmerets." Seconds later they are finished, but she hangs at his pad for about a week, eating her old shell and waiting for her new one to harden.
Wow. That's kinda sexy. I don't know if I'll ever be able to eat one again.
I had lunch today with a friend from high school, and we had an embarrassingly good time being catty and gossiping like total bitches. I had a great time, and I learned something too.
Apparently there's a bunch of soccer mom's in town doing speed. Their code name is "Jenny Craig."
Since this drug is also commonly prescribed to people with ADHD, I'm wondering if they're stealing it from their kids or if they're buying it on the street like back in the '80's.
Coincidentally, I'm about to become a soccer mom again, as I just signed my little guy up today. If I start losing a lot of weight, you'll know why.
Just kidding.
Down at the farmer's market this evening, there was quite the immigration rally, or whatever it was called, going on in the square. Hundreds of Hispanics were marching, waving Mexican flags and shouting things I didn't comprende. I vaguely knew what was going on since I read about it last year after their big march down the entire Vegas strip. It was hard to be sympathetic to their cause while being trapped in the Bellagio parking lot with 3 kids for over an hour.
Wanting to know more about what was going on today, I came home and did some internet reading, where I learned something about "immigration solidarity."
There are people, I'm not sure exactly what to call them, who think that "undocumented" immigrants are not illegal.
I did NOT learn what the giant wooden cross they had today was all about. As far as I could tell, it was completely unrelated.
