Curb Schmurb

This is one of my favorite rental car stories...mostly because it's about Rita and not me =)

A couple of weeks ago we were in Albuquerque for the sad occasion of a memorial service. Even though we were only there for about five hours, we managed to thoroughly endear ourselves to Thrifty Car Rental.
It turned out to be a good thing we were 20 minutes early for the service, because on the turn into the church, Rita ummmm....missed?....the parking lot entry. But you know Rita, she is not one to let obstacles get in her way...even when made of concrete and painted yellow. So up and over (or through?) that pesky curb we went! While the ensuing impact knocked my Diet Coke flying, I counted myself lucky the airbag wasn't working that day.

Once the car finished its shudder and came to rest...I could tell we were in trouble. Mostly because my side of the car was sinking to the sound of "psssssssssssssst" emanating from the front, passenger-side tire. As I sat there, suddenly looking up at Rita, I KNEW it was not the appropriate time to start laughing. But when she asked me if I thought it was flat, I could only reply..."the tire or the axle??". tee hee?

The highlight of the event, however, was during the car return. I don't know how someone can hide one of those donut-looking spare tires - but Rita did it. Rita P. matched Juanita, our Thrifty Car Rental checkout girl, Move. For. Move. around that vehicle. Honestly...Rita somehow managed to keep herself between Juanita and the car at all times. It was a dance of deception, but a dance of beauty, nonetheless. And when Juanita finally opened the trunk (containing the flat tire/bent rim combo), Rita exclaimed "look at that big plane!" and slammed the lid as Juanita looked skyward. It was straight outta Monty Python, but it worked.
We only went 18 miles the entire trip in Albuquerque, but we needed 5 tires to do it. And SOMEONE lost their Platinum status at Thrifty Car Rental.
=) =) =)

Maddening

If you are not a fan of the TV show “Mad Men” – you may just want to skip this post.

Who knew that all you needed for a trendy TV show was a rotary phone?? [I think my house in Nashville had one right before the move…I had to unplug it for the dial-up internet.]

For those of you who don’t watch Mad Men – it is a show on AMC set in the 1960’s to which those of us who no longer need to watch Sunday night football are hopelessly devoted. (I am just amazed that in the 60s...three martini's at lunch made you terribly creative.)

There are even weekly chat logs all over the internet that thoroughly review each episode and what it might mean [not having to keep up with espn.com gives me extra time to look around the internet].  Some of the meaningful questions posed include the following:

• What does the wedding invitation for November 23, 1963, coming just a day after Kennedy's assassination mean? [Besides someone is in for a really shitty wedding?]
• What does the pink fainting couch symbolize [Ummmm, that a gay boy is on the writing team?]
• Oranges are a portent of death. So when Gene remarked that his ice cream "tastes like chocolate but smells like oranges," I figured he was a goner. [Really? don’t tell the Volunteer nation about that orange thing.]
• Does the Aquanet pitch showing four people seated in a convertible foreshadow the Kennedy assassination? [I really don’t think you get to elevate it to foreshadowing if it involves an Aquanet commercial]

My favorite scene so far is when the little girl comes running into the kitchen with the dry-cleaning bag over her head and her mother’s only response is “Sally! If I find a pile of clean clothes in my closet you are in big trouble…now run along”.

When they make a nostalgic show about the "naught" decade (the '0x years)...do you think they will just show a bunch of people blogging?

Obama's Boys Club

I don’t know if you guys saw it in the news on Monday, but Obama got knocked for having a “boys club” administration because his basketball games and golf outings don’t include women. Coincidentally, staffer Melody Barnes joined Obama for his Sunday golf game.  Which all made me think of a couple of things:

• You know Melody Barnes was thrilled about this assignment. Weekend golf with the boss AND her picture in every newspaper in the country in her golf outfit. [Nice ballcap Melody.]
• They used to let Michelle join the basketball games – til she kicked their ass
• Critics complain that almost half of his top advisers are male.
• Presidential basketball isn’t the hottest ticket in town. FLOTUS weekly bunco night is where the real action is.
• Next thing you know, he’s going to try to soften his image by talking about last week’s episode of Top Chef (but I can sooooo not believe Jen messed up her fish dishes during Restaurant Wars, can you?!)
• The man has two young daughters. Let him enjoy his basketball game before he has to get back to scrapbooking.
• Boys club – please. Hilary cleans up at the weekly poker game.
• I’m sorry, we just emerged from 8 years of John Wayne and you think THIS administration has too much testosterone?

Your Northwest Itinerary

Did you see the latest? You know that two Northwest pilots on their way from San Diego (!) who overshot Detroit by 150 miles and had to turn around at Eau Claire, Wisconsin? They “missed their exit” because they were on their LAPTOPS. I love it!

• Oh I SEE, please turn off and stow all electronic devices and anything with an on/off switch…so as Not. To. Compete. For. Bandwidth with your pilots!
• One of the pilots had 20,000 hours of flying time, but he was apparently watching DVDs through most of it. 
• “Look at this awesome video game I’m playing – those look just like real fighter jets coming to shoot down a commercial flight” 
• At least they quit claiming that they were just engrossed in Sully Sullenberg's new book.
• I hope their update to facebook was worth it. 
• The facebook update in question? Included a smiley face =)  
• They were allegedly trying to figure out the new scheduling software so they could get their PTO requests on the books… I think they’re going to get that time off, alright. 
• Ummm, as I sit here, I am thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be entering this blog from my boss’s staff meeting.

=)

Sarah Palin's Reading, Writing and Rhetoric

Sorry to be offline for so long.  I am hoping to be back posting this week or definitely next week.  In the meantime, did you know that Sarah Palin wrote a book (Christmas present for Maeve?).  So in honor of her book "writing", here's a little blog post courtesy of David Letterman:

Sarah Palin's Top 10 Tips for Writing a Book

1. Close the windows so you don't get distracted by Russia
2. Increase vocabulary, use words like "slanket"
3. First buy yourself 100 grand worth of writing outfitss
4. Don't write a word until the check clears
5. Limit yourself to one "you betcha" per chapter
6. You can never have enough stories about ice fishing or killing things with your bare hands
7. When in doubt, just type (wink)
8. Don't let writing cut into attending "Fire Letterman" rallies
9. Have the book translated for European countries like London
10. I'll try to find you some tips and bring 'em to ya. 

 

 

Who's the Boss?

Oohhhh - there's going to be a power struggle on Hilldale Rd. No, no - not between me and Rita [that one is long resolved  =)]...between Rita and the woman who cleans our house. And ummm....stays with our dog. The uh...13 [or so] nights a month we're not here.

It seems that Julieta is doing some rearranging while she is here. Me? I don't notice so much. But Rita is not happy surprised that Julieta thinks the mixing dishes stack a little better in the middle drawer. It doesn't help that I blame every mishap in the house on Julieta. "Who put all the limes in the meat drawer?" Julieta! [We have a meat drawer?] "Who put the water glasses in the wine glass hutch?" Oh - that Julieta! [I thought they were ALL wine glasses?] "Who stuffed the Titans pom-pom under the couch cushion?" - okay, okay...I better fess up to that one.

I thought about hiding the juicer in the cutlery drawer just to watch the fireworks...but then I figured a fallout with the cleaning lady/dog sitter/roommate would temporarily put me in charge of cleaning the house. I decided I would just move the mixing bowls back to where they started.

Meanwhile, whole pieces of furniture have moved around in my room and as long as it doesn't impede my path to the portable a/c - I don't even notice.

Dog Sitting

When asking others to check on your dogs while you're away - it is generally a good idea to Leave. Them. A. Key. No - in this instance, I am not the one who neglected to leave the key. Undeterred by what I've done to Molly's manners, my neighbors asked me to check on their brand new puppy a couple of times on Sunday. And while said neighbors left detailed instructions on timing, and portion control and kongs and whatnot....they skipped a certain salient fact....like how the $%#@&$ do I get in?

Thinking that a key awaits me under the welcome mat, I sauntered up to the house in time to begin a forty-five minute scavenger hunt for button, button, who has the $%#&@ button key. I don't think you can appreciate just how much cussing I am capable of when I am tipping over plants, looking under grill covers and crawling under porches, all while half-suspecting that I'm getting punk'd. Molly, who was with me at the start of this escapade, is strutting around the yard taking bathroom breaks in plain sight of one of the imprisoned dogs' view through the window - just to rub it in a little.

I called a mutual friend whose seemingly sensible advice was to "just break in". But did she forget what burglar she was talking to? I would have been the Watergate burglar that got everyone caught. Besides, my idea of breaking-in involves a brick through the window, not sly little lock jimmying. Which is when I got creative. If you call every dog sitter in town - you will EVENTUALLY find one that has worked for your neighbors....and is willing to give their key copy to a perfect stranger... if yet another mutual friend...will vouch for you. It takes a village alright. By the time this little escapade was [finally] over, half the town had a vested interest in little Quincy's potty break. I'm thinking the neighbors bring their cell phones on their next bike ride.

But think of the all dog-sitting chits I collected in a single day...

Catastrophe

When catastrophe comes...I know what it will look like. It will look like Molly catching the skunk that has taken up residence in the back yard.

Which brings us to last night.

Molly is not a real light sleeper. I'm pretty sure a burglar would get the TV halfway outta the house before little miss Rip Van Winkle finally awoke from her slumber. [But once she did, by god, there would be a LOT of barking.] So when she got up to go out in the middle of the night last night - I thought it was a real potty emergency and NOT just a critter that she was dying to chase.

Knowing that skunks like to hang around Rita's all you-can-eat vegetable garden....I thought I better put Magoo on a leash to keep her out of harm's way. Ummmm...just for the record...if a skunk is right outside your patio doors...that leash is not going to do you a damn bit of good. JUST as Molly makes a move for the rustling bushes, my dazed-3-a.m-ass figures out what the @#$% is going on, scoops up my dog and DIVES for the indoors. Omigod - it looked like I was auditioning for the next Bruce Willis movie [Spray Harder?]

Molly...meanwhile...begins running from office to bedroom, attacking the glass French doors in each room, itching for a fight [that she will lose like an overmatched American Idol contestant standing in front of Simon Cowell]. When I finally catch up to her in the bedroom, she is standing face-to-face with Pepe Le Pew, who has clambered onto the back porch and right up to the French doors in order to show us who's boss. Now, I've never seen a real skunk before, much less in the middle of a 3 a.m. wake-up call. So the glass door separating us did nothing to prevent my complete panic. Sounding a lot like Howard Dean after he lost Iowa, my only contribution to the moment is a hysterical-sounding shriek that seems to freeze both of them. "Aiyeeeeeeee!"

Thank god I leave every light in the house on when Rita's not here, because when I finally come to my senses, I have to race Molly to the other end of the house before returning to close what seem like 72 windows to the back yard. Molly immediately runs to the side entry of the house, sticks her head out of the little kitty door and continues her taunting. Jesus christ, Molly - if it were a coyote would you go up and introduce yourself?? Get away from the doors!

I wondered why the neighbors looked at me funny this morning, but it's probably because they heard a door-slammin', dog-barking, girl-shrieking hissy fit coming from the house last night.

Pepe never actually did spray us, but I am pretty sure the outside of Rita's house has one HELL of a malodorous clear coat.

Dead To Me

The Titans have decided to start their season with 3 straight losses, pretty much putting the playoffs out of reach before we even exit September. Seriously - they have to break my heart in the first quarter of the season? So even as my ESPN the Magazine taunts me from the mailbox, I find myself with some unexpected free time for the remaining 13 Sundays of the NFL season.

Here are some ideas on how I can spend this new-found time:

• Figure out how to get a refund for 13/17th's of DirecTV's NFL Ticket.
• Try to glom on to English Premier League soccer [they watch it in bars each week - it must have potential. Go Bolton Wanderers?]
• I hear they have beaches out here.
• Maybe I should get out and travel a little. 
• Read Sarah Palin's memoir?  
• Write catchy little Christmas poems about the farmer's market? [The farmer's market being the alternative Sunday morning ritual. {sigh}]
• My mother would like to point out that CHURCH is always an option.
• Spend the day understanding what it must be like to be a Cincinnati Bengals fan.

At least the number of football blog posts will go down.