The Convertible in the Rain Storm

A couple of weekends ago Kyle and I were going to our nephew's baseball game about an hour from our house.  It wasn't until the afternoon, and Kyle saw something about a street market that would be going on earlier in the day, so we left the house early and headed out to shop.  When we were in Santa Fe we bought a ton of stuff to re-decorate one of the spare rooms in our house.  We really wanted one of those wooden ladders that are made with rounded pieces of wood and strapped together with leather rope, however since we were in the convertible, we couldn't buy one there.  Fast forward to the street market
and voila, we found one that looked exactly like the ones we found in Santa Fe.  It is about 6 feet tall and again, we were in the convertible.  It's a sunny day, why not?  Right?

So we are driving around in this little sporty car, with a giant ladder sticking up out of the back, an hour from home.  We made it through my nephew's game and the clouds starting coming in.  The black, giant clouds that sort of say "Look out down there, you brainiacs in the convertible.  You're about to get fucked!"  We hopped in the car just as it started sprinkling.  Three minutes later it's full on pouring. 

I don't know if you've ever been in this sort of situation but as long as you're going 55 or 60 you don't get as wet as you'd think.  However, when you are on a road that has constant stop lights you experience the full effect of the torrential downpour.  We were cruising along and just laughing at how funny the whole situation was when we came to our first stoplight.  That's when we really started taking on water.  We were soaked, just soaked and I'm sure all the cars around us were thinking we were totally insane.  There we are, laughing our asses off at the sheer hilarity of the situation and just dripping wet.  I'll just bet it's on YouTube somewhere labeled "Check out the idiots in the convertible, but hey, nice ladder."

At one point Kyle shouted "Ouch" and grabbed his head.  I reached over, plucked the icy chunk of hail out of his hair and tossed it out of the car.  Yes, we took on everything but snow.  It will however, be snow season soon.  I can't wait.

The Wonders of Air Conditioning

Our house has central air conditioning.  Something I now vow to never live without.  Okay, yes I grew up without it and my therapist assures me that I am just fine inspite of it, but sometimes I'm not so sure.  When I moved out of my mother's house, into my first apartment, it had air.  My life changed and I was introduced to one of the many levels I assume exists in heaven.  Now I have lived without it since the first taste, my last house included, but now that we have it, ahhhh.  We crank it all day and night.  We like to have it so cold that we can sleep with down comforters and snuggle even when its 90+ degrees outside. 

Having established this you can now understand the freak-out Kyle and I experienced when our upstairs unit crapped out on Sunday morning.  The downstairs air was humming along just fine but when I went upstairs, after breakfast, I felt a wave of heat hit me like I was standing in front of a giant oven and someone just opened the door to check the turkey.  Okay so that might be a slight exaggeration, but you get the picture. 

Fast forward to Kyle outside standing by the unit, listening to the sounds it makes as I'm upstairs turning it on and off, running down to see what he says, then back up to turn it on and off again.  The sad part of it was, it was not working.  (Cue the tragic music)  So what did we do?  Why we did what any other rational,  normal minded people would do.  We grabbed our king size mattress off our bed and dragged it all the way downstairs to the family room.  I mean, come on, the downstairs air is working and, God forbid, we have to sleep in the 'hot' part of the house.  Oh and our stairs curve twice on the way down so bending that bad boy was FUN!

There we are on Sunday night, with Lucy happy as a clam, laying on our freshly made 'family room bed', in front of the couch.  What better time to throw in a porno and rock out in front of the big screen eh?  Just kidding, this is a family blog.  tee hee 

When I got home from work yesterday Lucy was lying on the bed and I just know she was thinking 'Finally Santa got my letters.'  She didn't even bother to get up and greet me like she usually does.  Oh no, she just lifted one eyelid and showed me her belly.  I swear I think I heard her whisper "Hell to the Yes" under her breath, but I could be mistaken. 

Someone is coming out to hopefully fix it today.  The super sucky thing then will be having to negotiate the stupid mattress back upstairs to our room.  Or maybe we'll just permanently leave it in the family room and tell our guests it's a new craze we read about in some exclusive Interior Design magazine.

Another Lucy in The Car Disaster

Those of you who have frequented my blog have probably read the horrible 'Diarrhea in the car on the way to Winter Park' story, (my dog, not me).  Well Kyle and I were lucky enough to experience a similar situation yet again.  About an hour into our drive back from Santa Fe, two weekends ago, we stopped to grab some soda's and snacks at a gas station right off the highway.  As usual, when we stop, we let Lucy out to run around and go potty.  She did her business and gulped down her treats and some water so we were ready to go. 

We were still sitting in the car, no driving or anything, when the dog started making those throat sounds a dog makes when it's about to barf.  Those of you who have dogs know exactly the sound I am referring to.  Those that don't are so very lucky, that's all I'm saying.  On long drives we bring a pillow or her dog bed for her to lay on, on my lap, during the trip.  So picture this; Kyle is in the drivers seat, I am in the passenger seat with this dog bed on my lap and my dog standing on it making those 'I'm about to puke noises'. 

I turn to Kyle and say "Oh my god she's going to puke!!!!".  We frantically look at eachother and all we can think to do is cup our hands together and hold them under her mouth.  Yes, you read that right.  The power of our two brains combined together came up with cupping our hands under her mouth.  Not, hey I know, let's just open the car door and set her down outside.  Nope, us geniuses just cupped our hands under her mouth perparing for the puke.  Oh, and we were in our new car too, did I forget to mention that little tid bit?
Go us!! 

So Lucy goes ahead and pukes and it runs, spoiler alert, it gets yucky from here, it runs all threw our hands and all down the crack between Kyle's seat and the arm rest, pools in the cup holder and gets all over her dog bed.  Then it gets even better, Lucy lays down really quick to make sure and coat herself in the vomit.  Damn it was awful.  So we both freak out, trying to tell the doggy she's okay, and attempting to get her and the messy dog bed out of the car.  Kyle ran inside and got a whole bunch of napkins and I grabbed the nearest thing I could to begin cleaining up. 

We get everything cleaned up as good as we can but then here is the dilema.  We are only about an hour into the 5 hour drive home.  There is no way this dog will make it for 4 hours without something to lay on and our car is packed so tightly that there is no way to put her dog bed in the trunk.  Here comes the lucky part for Kimmie-D.  I got to sit the remainder of the drive home with her dog bed on my lap, covered in napkins, and my stinky doggy.  Every time she adjusted her position the smell of warm vomit rose and fragranced the air all around her.  I kept offering to switch with Kyle and drive but he kindly declined each time, the sweetie pie.

So there it is.  I've been puked and covered in liquidial diarrhea by my little doggie twice in the car now.  For super fun next blog maybe I'll tell you about the time Lucy puked on Kyle's chest in bed.  That was a good one!!

Santa Fe

My husband and I just returned from 7 glorious days in Santa Fe, New Mexico.  This is a must see place for anyone who is into shopping, eating and just plain relaxing.   We stayed at a wonderful hotel and spa and spent our days strolling through the local shops and eating on outside patios with beautiful vines and flowers and fountains, oh my! 

We decided we liked the local art and culture so much we purchased a car load of stuff to bring home and decided we'd redecorate a couple of rooms in our house to make it ala' Santa Fe.  So fun!  The people there were so friendly.  Every shop we went into we met the most kind and interesting shop owners.  There is so much culture in that city it is just amazing.  Plus we became quite good at bartering.  There is an art to it and, if I do say so myself, we have really mastered getting just the right price.  We even had one guy track us down at this outdoor market to finally let us have the price we wanted for some yard art.  Go us!

One particular moment that made us laugh until we about peed ourselves was when we were having lunch at a little local Mexican restaurant.  The waitress spoke with a very heavy accent and when she asked me to hand her the menus I, out of nowhere, replied "No Problemo!".  Yes, me, super whitey with blond hair and a unique air of ditz said, "No Problemo".  The look on my face as soon as I said it, and the look Kyle had on his face made us both laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world. 

I guess the old saying goes....When in Rome.

The Help

I read a lot.  I just finished one of the most page turning, life inspiring, makes you really stop to think books I've ever read.  It is titled The Help, written by Kathryn Stockett.  It is a beautifully written story about black maids, working for white families, in Jackson Mississippi in the 1960's.  This book is thought provoking and it is a MUST READ!!

This book tells the story of the lives of some truly amazing black women.  Their lives are spent cleaning and cooking and raising children for the white women who employ them.   I could go on to say that it moved me and that I just can't believe that the world ever thought, or operated this way but I'd sound just pathetic and clueless to even say it.  I just can't wrap my head around anyone who thinks they are truly better than someone else because of the color of their skin.  I know, I know, it's the world but I hate it.

To think about sitting on my ass and telling someone else what I want them to do, as far as cooking for me or cleaning for me, is a foreign concept.  Let alone thinking it was their, 'place' in life????  UGH.  How people could ever think and feel that way is about as beyond my level of comprehension as the thought of me sprouting wings and learning to fly.  Yet it is a reality that I am sickened with it.

I usually try and write about funny or crazy things that happen in my life but I just wanted to write about how much this book moved me and how strongly I feel that everyone should take the opportunity and read it.  

Well there you have it.  My first blog of April, on my soapbox.

Another Man / Woman Difference

Another crazy difference between men and women is pooping habits.  Yep, I just typed pooping.  Men are so open about it that they'll walk down the hall with reading material in hand, as if to advertise exactly how they are planning to spend the next 5 or so minutes.  Reading and pooping.  Pooping and reading and grunting it all out with no care or regard to how many other men are in the room, probably doing the exact same thing.

Women however treat this act way more discretely.  We don't do it in front of other women, ever.  When you walk in a women's bathroom you can always tell if you need to get in and get out right away.  If you see feet under the stalls and hear only silence you respect the fellow bathroom patron and hurry along to give them their privacy.  It is universally known as 'The Women's Bathroom Code'.  We don't want to hear it happening while we are in there, we don't want someone else to hear it when it's us doing it.  There is nothing worse in the world, (okay I may be overstating a little, I mean there are starving children and all that) but truley nothing sucks worse than when you gotta go and you hear the door open and someone else enters the bathroom.  You hold really still, blow your nose, adjust yourself on the seat, anything and everything to prevent yourself from pooping and, god forbid, the other woman in the bathroom hearing it.  Don't even consider the horror if a little fart were to squeek out.  You might as well quit your job for fear of the fellow bathroom pal discovering it was you.  I know it's crazy and the men reading this are shaking their heads and the women are nodding saying Mmm hmmm, true that.

I had a friend who moved to California soon after she graduated high school and she ended up moving in with her boyfriend.  She was so paranoid to poop in the house that she would go to the gas station on the corner.  Every single day she had to poop, she'd journey out.

I even went as far as making my husband sit on the front porch of our house when I first moved in with him when I needed to go.  I was that paranoid he'd hear, and know that yes, I poop too.   12 1/2 years later, that is so not the case.  The mystery is gone, the jig is up.  Now I let him stay in the house.  Just on another floor.

The Tale of The Worst Tooth Ache Ever...Yes Ever!

Less than a year ago I had some dental work done.  In my opinion, a lot of work done, meaning a root canal and two crowns.   All has been fine ever since and then about two weeks ago I started to get this tooth ache.  Having had the work done, to the two teeth in the area, I assumed it was simply a result of my crazy night grinding, no not the fun kind, and hoped it would go away.  If you read my blog, you know I’m a chronic teeth grinder, at night, and sleep with a plastic, sexy as hell, football mouth-guard.

So, the really bad pain happened two weekends ago.  I had been taking Ibuprofen daily for my tooth aches-and-pains; again, hoping it would go away, when last Sunday it progressed to staggering levels of angst.  I sort of equate it to something going from, ‘Oh your cat just scratched my face’ to ‘Your dog just bit a chunk out of my finger, and drew blood’.  Very uncomfortable!!!  We called Kyle’s mom and asked if we could run down and pick up some Vicodin to get me through until tomorrow, Monday, when I could see my dentist.  (You know those Catholic breast cancer patients never use all, if any, of their drugs)  Thank god for this woman!

Monday morning I woke up with just a horrible throbbing tooth and the only thing that would help was can you believe it, ice water.  I mean, usually ice and things that cold do nothing but hurt a tooth but that was the only relief for me.    My regular dentist was closed Monday, of course, so I popped pills and swished ice water until the pain became something like ‘Mother Fucking Snakes on a Mother Fucking Plane’.  I rushed to a local dentist for a late evening root canal and spent the next several hours with a youngish dentist and his little assistant…They laughed, they flirted, they made me cry.  Yes, my dentist made me cry by being such a jerk-wad to me.

I spent the day in writhing pain, and those of you who have had severe dental pain, you know there is nothing like it.  You can’t escape it and it is just the worst.  So I’m in the chair, I’ve been popping Vicodin all day long, in pain and my mental state is shit and he has the nerve to kind of scold me when I don’t move my mouth exactly the way he asks, right when he asks it.  I mean the guy was a total tool.  Finally tears started rolling down my eyes onto the floor but they couldn’t see them since I had those protective goggles on.  I was a late, emergency patient and he was making comments about how he might as well not go home since he’d be there so late, and when one of their machines stopped working and they had to move me to another chair he had the nerve to say “She probably bit down to hard on the x-ray film” to his assistant. 

It was a nightmare experience all in all.  The only good to come out of it was a prescription for Percocet and the fact that I was no longer in pain.  I am now on the search for a new dentist.  I plan to find one that I hear tons of people love and that perhaps offers free chair massage and pedicures while you are there.  Is it too much to ask??

I think not.  Okay, at least one that’s not a total tool…