I’m lonely. Please send me valentines.
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Archive for February, 2007
I’m lonely. Please send me valentines.
Tonight at the hotel I got a call at the front desk. The gentleman who was calling told me that he had returned to his room and his companion was unconscious and unresponsive. I called 911. We found out the woman had ODed. She had done this while she was alone in her room with her 18-month-old son. It was very sad.
After I hung up the 911 call, I realized that twice I had told the operator that the gentleman and I were unable to arouse the woman. That’s right: I said “arouse” instead of “rouse,” as if we were… you know… to wake her up.
I used to say the English teacher in me is dying a slow death. I believe she’s officially dead.
The other day Simon was “explaining” to his mom what the different team colors meant for the Pee Wee basketball teams.
“The purple team wears purple because they need to practice more,” he said. “And the team that wears white are the poor kids.”
“How do you know they’re poor?” Kim asked.
“Because they’re on Jesus’s team,” he replied. Kim cocked her head in curiosity. “Everybody knows Jesus plays with the poor kids, Mom,” Simon explained.
What cracked me up about this is that Simon has never been to church in his entire life.
I know this because I just won American Idol.
How? you might ask. Let me tell you. My six-year-old nephew got the American Idol game for his Playstation for his birthday last week. Today my sister and I kicked him out of his own bedroom and played. Her rendition of Crazy Little Thing Called Love beat my Piano Man, but in the end my rendition of Stand By Me was a notch above her 9 to 5. Simon said I had what it takes to make it in this business.
It’s true. I cried during the Super Bowl. Twice.
I didn’t even mean to watch it. I went to my aunt’s house because she watches those entertainment round up shows (Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollywood, etc.) and I was hoping to catch the commercials. But I showed up at her house on Sunday, thinking the Super Bowl had been on Saturday. (Make fun all you want. I will not feel stupid because I didn’t know the Superbowl is always on Sunday.) So then I had to actually watch the Super Bowl. (Except that I didn’t. I had cocktails and read Entertainment Weekly while I was waiting for the commercials.)
But then the halftime show came on. I teared up as soon as Prince whispered “Dearly beloved…” I’m not even much of a Prince fan, but I could kind of feel that it was just going to be awesome. And it was! And then I felt the tears fall when the marching band came out. I couldn’t help it! I have a thing for marching bands; I always cry at DCI competitions. I teared up during Drumline, and it sucked ass. Please understand, this was a happy cry. Really!
That said, did anybody else kind of giggle when Prince sang All Along the Watchtower? I yelled, “Oh my God! He’s proselytizing during the Superbowl halftime show!”*
*That reference is so obscure and tenuous I doubt anyone understands it.
When I got my check stub today, I noticed that a bonus I was expecting wasn’t on it. I asked the accounting manager about it, and she said it had been submitted too late for this check. But she assured me that it would be on my next check, along with my raise. Apparently my boss called her last week and told her to up my annual salary by $5000.
I had no idea.
This is all very, very exciting.
When I was growing up we didn’t have real dessert (pies, cakes, cookies, etc.) unless it was at a church pot luck. Very, very rarely we might get a little something sweet after supper. There were four things we might be blessed to have that night:
- Bread, butter and sugar I’m not making this up, people. My mother actually called this dessert. It was a slice of white bread with margarine smeared on it and a little granulated sugar sprinkled on top. The bread wasn’t even toasted. But to this day if I’m craving something sweet and don’t have anything on hand, I’ll make myself one. Of course, these days it’s whole grain bread with SmartBalance spread and a sprinkle of Splenda, but it still takes me back.
- Honey, butter and Saltines (Are you seeing a pattern here?) That was it: we’d mix honey and butter and spread it on crackers.
- Frozen Coke It’s just like it sounds. Daddy would pour Coke into empty margarine tubs and stick them in the freezer. A couple of hours later we would take them out and sit around watching TV while scraping frozen Coke out of the tub with a spoon.
- Purple Cows The biggest and best of the dessert treats, the Purple Cow was seldom seen in our house. But when it came, we would gorge ourselves. Basically, it’s a rootbeer float. But instead of using rootbeer, you use NuGrape soda. If you don’t have NuGrape available, any grape soda will do. (We used Faygo last weekend.) Vanilla ice cream and grape soda. Whodathunkit?
Of course, as simple as Purple Cow the dessert is, there’s apparently more to the legend of the Purple Cow itself. For instance, there’s this old poem. And there’s some guy trying to make money off the very idea of a purple cow. And don’t forget about Williams College, who was smart enough to make the Purple Cow its mascot a century ago. (If I’d have know that 15 years ago, I’d have probably applied.) According to Google, “Purple Cow” also refers to a communications company, a rock band from Manila, and a couple of crazy people’s websites. There’s also the restaurant chain by the same name. They have awesome hamburgers. Oddly enough, what I call a Purple Cow, the Purple Cow restaurant calls a “Purple Vanilla.”
- I don’t know about you, but all the slumber parties I ever went to usually devolved into some of the group picking on and/or hazing others. This can easily be solved by making sure there are significant age differences among the attendees. Last weekend I went to a slumber party that included my 51-year-old aunt, my 24-year-old cousin, my 12-year-old cousin, and my eight-year-old niece. No one’s panties got frozen, and no one had her hand stuck in cups of water while she was sleeping.
- Have good AND fun food. We had homemade chicken and dumplings for dinner, Purple Cows for dessert, and cheese toast for breakfast. I must say that the Purple Cows — which were my idea — were a great success. No one had ever had one except for my aunt and me, and the other three fell in love with them.
- Watch a silly movie that everyone can enjoy. We watched Thirteen Going on Thirty, which I’d have never picked out. But we all enjoyed it, and I decided that Jennifer Garner is just the cutest little thing. The image of her doing the Thriller dance will stay with me forever.
- Get snowed in at the hotel you work at. Have your 32-year-old cousin deliver a baby* a mile from the hotel and be unable to get home.
- Eat lots of Chinese food while holed up in the hotel room.
- The next day, eat lots of Indian food while holed up in the hotel room.
- Watch Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team and Extreme Makeover. Be sure to make sarcastic remarks about the cheerleaders — especially when they say things like “I know in my heart that Jesus wants me to be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader. He put it in my heart when I was just a little girl.”
*I kept telling people that Kim was going to “deliver a baby, then come down to the hotel and eat Chinese and have cocktails with me.” Everyone was horrified. I didn’t realize they thought she was giving birth to the baby rather than catching the baby.