Formula

While we were on the road, in the middle of the difficult day of multiple vehicle breakdowns, we stopped off at a Wal-Mart. Okay, let me rephrase... a few different times, we stopped off at different Wal-Marts. This one was in Amarillo, though, and I bought my girls a new DVD, since Spike had brought along a portable DVD player for the car. For all of you with children and long road trips in your future, I recommend making that investment NOW, by the way... Anywho, I bought a copy of "High School Musical," which is one of the recent Disney Channel Original Movies. Cute enough, with a semi-decent plot. Which is to say, not counting the normal suspension of disbelief for a musical (how often have you spontaneously burst into song, only to have your friends not only know the tune and words that you're inventing as you go, but also an elaborately choreographed dance routine?) you can only drive a SMALL fleet of Mac trucks through the holes in the storyline. It was funny though, because tonight the kids were watching it again, and this time it was semi-watched by all of us theoretically-adults in the house as well. And boy, do these things ever follow a formula... Through different points in the movie, us old people would suddenly burst out with quotes or songs from other movies. I started it, naturally, as the lead female had just had her heart broken by the male lead and was singing a song about how she was foolish to believe it was something real... I burst out with, "But now... there's no way to hide... since you pushed my love aside..." (Okay, so the men in the audience may need an explanation, but I'm way too tired to provide it.) The movie had shades of "Grease" to it in more than one part, a little "Dirty Dancing" ("Nobody puts Baby in a corner!") and, in one memorable moment, it even reminded me of the video for "Thriller." I think the girls got a little tired of us suddenly injecting other songs and lines into a movie they so obviously love. And it IS a really cute movie too... Just a little... umm... predictable. I mean, honestly, there were parts in there that Ray Charles could see coming, and he's blind and dead...

It Is Finished

So, I finally did it. One week after leaving on our "vacation" to Colorado, I finally told my mother in law that it isn't a vacation. I spirited her granddaughters away to another state, and we're not coming back. If you don't know the whole story, it sounds horribly callous. In some ways, it even feels so to me. The fact is, though, it wasn't a decision made lightly. I have to do what's best for the Clone, Red, and Little Bit. They are happy, and I am optimistic, even as one of my rough patches threatens to descend on me. I haven't found work yet, but it will come when it's time. There are little details for me to work on, but it will all work out in the end. In the meantime, my daughters will finish growing up in a place with cleaner air, better schools, safer neighborhoods, and at least to some degree, more open-minded and tolerant people. (Though I hear the place has a bit of a Republican infestation... give it time, we'll get past that one too...) We eat organic food now, which is an adjustment, I will admit... and I currently occupy the bottom bunk of one set of bunk beds in a room I share with my three daughters, but that's actually oddly comforting. As much time as I've had to spend away from them, being with them this much is a real treat. We're a happy little household, me and the Divas and Mamacita and Spike and Chelle... This is a happy little place, Loveland, Colorado... I think I'm gonna like it here.

Safe and Sound

No time right now for details... I will tell the highlights of the story later - because, let's face it, we all know that any road trip I'm involved in will have some stories. But for now, let it be enough for me to tell you that we arrived in Loveland safe and sound around 3 this morning. We've slept some, and there are settling-in details to be taken care of, but basically...all is well.

IT Service Request

Dear Manager of Information Technology:

Please send someone to fix my mouse. It is broken, perhaps from overuse on the following site:

http://www.abunawaf.com/mix/store2/mulakama.swf

Regards,
Jane Q. Employee

What Dreams May Come...

Mitch Taylor:
Something strange happened to me this morning.
Chris Knight:
Was it a dream where you see yourself in, sort of, Sun God robes, on a pyramid, with a thousand naked women screaming and throwing little pickles at you?
Mitch Taylor:
No.
Chris Knight:
Why am I the only person that has that dream?

It started with a conversation about how my stepdad Spike is a morning person, and the rest of us are decidedly NOT, and he was musing at how interesting it will be when we are all in the same household, what with him and Pati being morning people. Pati is his and my mother’s grandkitty – my sister’s cat. Short for Cleopatra, and it is an apt name, as she is a queen. So then my sister chimed in with the strange (and eerily similar) dreams she and my mother had when Pati tried to wake them up at an ungodly hour of the almost-morning. So of course I had to comment on how scary it will be if we all have similar dreams, and that they had better hope I don’t have any nightmare-inducing job-related dreams (as I am prone to do) while I’m there…

This is what she came up with: "Pati was a six foot lemur who couldn't find a job, so she jumped into Sara's office through the window and began taking measurements to see how many aliens could fit in the guest chair. Suddenly, Mike walked in and sneezed, causing Sara and the lemur to poop their pants -- but they weren't wearing any pants! Then we were all in a church made of bricks and there was a 70's cover band behind the altar singing (of course) Brick House, but they changed House to Mouse. I started handing out bowls of ice cream but no-body wanted any because it was tuna flavored. Then Mom came in and punched out the lead singer and took over his job. All the little lemurs from outer space started dancing..."

If I am ever the lead singer of a 70s cover band, it MUST be called “All the Little Lemurs from Outer Space.” Unless David Bowie already used that one

GUEST BLOG!!!!

Hi everyone. I'm not Sara, but I'm her rotten big sister. She has been inviting me...actually daring me...to contribute to this site for a while. So far, I have refrained, but today I've got more work to do than I know what to do with, calls to friends (including two brides-to-be) I've been putting off returning so I can sleep, and an invisible pick driven through my right eye. So what's a gal to do? I'm going to write about one of the most amusing things I've ever seen for my Sweet Baby Sisser's Blog. So without further ado, here is the official, eye-witness account of ...

The Unfortunate Loogey Incident

I was minding my own business one fine morning during my senior year in high school, driving my sister and I to "the block" where we spent some part of every day of the week. We were on our way to school, and Sara was in the passenger seat dutifully minding her own business as I sang along to ridiculous 80's music. (Cut me some slack, it was the 80's.) Sara had a cold or allergies or something and had been slinging snot around for days. Suddenly, she sneezed explosively! Out the corner of my eye, I saw a big blob of something fly out of her face and hit the windshield!

"ARGH!" I said calmly, "Wipe that up!"

"Wipe what up?" Sara replied.

"That giant honkin' loogey you just spewed!" I said, maintaining complete composure, even though there was something large, horrible, and slimey now roaming the front area of my beautiful, beloved, shiny, red 67 Camaro with chrome rims, chrome air filter, chrome piston covers, chrome wing bolts, and chrome master cylinder cover--all of which I lovingly polished every single weekend. (No, I didn't have a life then, either.)

"I don't see anything," Sara said after conducting a relatively thorough search. There was truth written all over her sweet little face. Since I was busy driving, I decided to trust her and went back to singing along with my radio -- probably to "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" by U2. Oh, the irony!

A few minutes later, we pulled up to the school. I turned to say good-bye and saw, to my complete horror, A GIANT LOOGEY the size of a golf ball, clinging to the windshield DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF SARA'S FACE!!! Can you imagine my horror? C'mon, imagine it; I dare ya.

"ARGH!" I again said calmly. "WIPE THAT UP! OH MY GAWD THAT'S DISGUSTING!!!"

"What!?" she said equally calmly but genuinely puzzled.

How she could not see that monsterous phlegm ball in front of her was beyond my comprehension. We didn't yet know she had terrible cataracts. I had never before, nor have I since, seen such an impressive specimen of sinus secretions. We should have saved it and sent it to a scientist somewhere, or perhaps to the Guiness Book of World Records. I'm sure there were several bacterial colonies living in it, happily oblivious to the spectacle they were causing. They probably had their own Gods and their own little holy wars on that Loogey. It was truly something to behold.

When she finally saw it, we both started laughing hysterically. We found a tissue and she wiped it up. We laughed for another 10 minutes, I think. Then I made her take the tissue with her when she got out of the car.

Now she has three beautiful daughters, and I wonder which of these will carry on her mother's legacy. My bet is on Karma, but I'm sure Divine Retribution will give her a run for her money. Poetic Justice will be the one in the driver's seat, wishing her sisters were strapped to the roof of the car instead of defiling her freshly ArmourAll-wiped upholstery.

I can picture it now. He he he.

Here's the Story... of a Lovely Loogey...

*giggle giggle snort giggle*

That was the sound from my cubicle this afternoon, and there's quite a story behind it. A story that I suspect will make more than a few people shake their heads in disgust and then turn away from me. But then again, who really needs friends who turn away from you in moments of embarrassment? I say, love me, love my loogeys.

For those of you who don't know what a loogey is, it's kind of hard to define. Coworkers looking for an explanation of my giggles universally responded, "Huh?" when I told them about the loogey conversation between my sister and I... followed by "ewwwwwwwwww, gross!!!" when I explained it in the only way I knew how: by creating the sound effect of someone hocking up a really good one. And if the phrase "hocking up a really good one" doesn't paint the picture, then maybe this definition from the Urban Dictionary will:

LOOGEY:

A blob of snot. lung butter. Yellow Jello. An oyster. An unidentifiable mass of goo of probably disgusting origins. A chewy substance that is difficult to swallow. A throat rocket.

A loogey in your Big Mac can spoil your day.

http://loogey.urbanup.com/1151961

Do we have a clear picture here? And "clear" is, I suppose, what brought up the conversation. My much-awaited trip to Colorado looms on the horizon, and in response to something I sent her in an e mail, she alluded to the short amount of time before the kids and I head-'em-up, move-'em-out, ride-'em'-n, etc. etc. I responded that I was so excited I could spit. And then I had to bring up the loogey.

Well, not really bring it up.. just mention it... a loogey from long, long ago. I can't even recall the context, other than that it must have been her senior year in high school, as she was driving me to school in her gorgeous 67 Camaro, The Edge. (We name cars in our family; my 69 Mustang was "Piranha.") So anywho, I was then - as I am now- prone to allergies. In the middle of a conversation, I suddenly reared back and let loose with a rather loud sneeze, after which I felt remarkably clear. Somehow, and I have no idea how, I failed to see (literally) what my sister got so freaked out about. Turns out I had indeed spewed a giant snot clot right onto her windshield. The incident itself really wasn't that big a deal, at least not to me (though I hear that Windex shares went up three points that day), but it has lived on in family lore for oh these many years. And so when I mentioned loogeys, my sister and I began an e mail volley that kept me in snorts and giggles for the remainder of my workday - and afforded my coworkers the opportunity to go "ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, gross!!!"

Now. Aren't you glad I shared? (And Chelle, feel free to add in details...)

Checking In... and My Newest Mom

Yes, I know, it's been a while... Things are a little busy on this end. Some of you know why already (and please, keep it to yourselves for now), others will know soon enough. And NO, there is no fourth Diva in the works, so don't worry 'bout that...

But I do have a quick story to tell, if you will indulge me for just a moment. You see, I collect mothers. I mean, I have only one mother/mommy/mama/Senorita Mamacita, and I still need to write a blog just about her (just not on a day when I only have 10 minutes left of my lunch hour). But from Day One I had an extra mother in the form of my Big Sisser, and I've picked up extras along the way - usually by borrowing those that belong to friends, though my Daddy was kind enough to contribute one as well.

Anywho. My newest mom actually belongs to Keira, and she is a real blast. In fact, I think she and my Mamacita would get along quite well; they're both strong and capable women with a great sense of humor, a wicked streak, and a lot of love. They are also, as it turns out, both women who find themselves in odd positions - literally - every so often. Last week, I went over to Newest Mom's for the night. When I pulled up, she was outside bringing the trash to the curb, and told me to just go in the back door. Now, I had only been there twice before at this point, so when I tried the door I thought she was talking about and found it locked, I thought maybe there was another door I didn't know about. So I asked. And watched the look on her face.

Oops.

Newest Dad, you see, was out of town for the night, and Newest Mom was a little concerned about security. So, without thinking, she had turned the lock on the back door right before closing it behind her. Of course, she didn't have her keys with her. Of course, the front door was locked. Of course, the garage is detached. Luckily, the garage also had some tools in it, though there was a bit of a scramble just to find those. And then, Newest Mom (let's just shorten it to NM...) had to pry the screen off the window and lift the windowpane... which, in turn, could only be lifted so high because of some sort of stopper... NM had to crawl through the window, directly into the space under the kitchen table, in order to go inside and unlock the door. Thank goodness the alarm had not been set, because there's NO way she could have crawled inside and gotten to the panel in time...

And the whole time, I couldn't help but think how much I miss my own Mamacita (though I get to see her VERY SOON!!!!), and how much Keira must be missing hers right now. Never fear, K... I will take good care of yours for as long as I'm able. And thanks, many times over, for sharing with me.