I Did That Already

My sister calls my house about five times while I was TAKING A NAP. She called my cell, then my house phone. I heard the rings, but didn't bother to answer it. Finally, my very concerned husband gets the phone and brings it to the room.

"She might be lonely," he said. "Or she might want to talk to you about something."

"I know her. She just wants to tell me about some product she saw online."

Of course I didn't know that she was actually on the line so in order to call her, I press the "talk" button, which hangs up the phone. This happens to me every other time I grab the phone.

When I finally reach her, she says:

"I have the most BRILLIANT idea for a present for Mommy and Daddy!!!! We just went to a lecture and this person talked to us about FAIR TRADE COFFEE! Don't you think they'll LOVE THAT?!!"

"I tried that a few years ago and Mommy didn't like it."

"Oh...That figures. Once again, my brilliant idea is something that you've already thought of and executed."

That's right, this is the only perk to having a fourteen-year head start.

Merry Christmas?

While shopping at Whole Foods, I was bombarded with Christmas carols. This means that they are going to be playing Christmas songs at Whole Foods for ONE WHOLE MONTH. I can't take this.

The speakers blared out that they wished me a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I still have more than a month left of THIS YEAR. I mean, isn't that jumping the gun a little? Why don't you wish me a Happy Rest of the Year?

I wonder why we start the Christmas holiday a month beforehand. We don't do this with any other holiday. On January 15, we don't go around saying, "Happy Valentine's Day!"

I'm sure Whole Foods doesn't start playing the Star Spangled Banner and God Bless America on June 5th.

We don't start preparing a month in advance for birthdays or anniversaries.

I'm not ready for the holiday season yet! I just got through Thanksgiving. Can't we have a lull after Thanksgiving?

Westchester Tells Monday to GO SCREW!

More than once Peter and I have decided to go out to lunch on a Monday afternoon. Just because Monday is that day when I don't feel like making something because, quite frankly, I go shopping on Tuesday, so we've run low on almost everyhing except tortilla chips and that really sad banana Peter's mother put in the refrigerator. (By the way, DON'T PUT BANANAS IN THE REFRIGERATOR! They turn brown, then black, and I will pretend that they do not exist.)

Today we got into a parking space, put our two quarters in, and went to the Bollywood Bistro.

We get out of the car, and the restaurant has two doors - one is obviously a door and juts out onto the street, so the immediate instinct is to try to get in that door. There is a note on that door that says "PLEASE USE THE DOOR ON YOUR LEFT."

Unfortunately, we don't see the door on the left because it's kind of smushed into the building and it looks just like the other glass windows surrounding it. So, we're hunting around, and this guy says to us:

"The door's right here, but the restaurant is closed on Mondays."

Without thinking, I yell, "WESTCHESTER SUCKS!"

Then I look at the guy sheepishly, because the people who live here? They LOVE IT HERE and defend its honor the way a mother bear protects its cubs -- so if you say anything to the contrary, they will try to pull apart your appendages, one limb at a time.

When I get back in the car, I say, "Why didn't we call ahead of time? I mean, we called two other places before we left, other places which are closed on Mondays. Why did we think THIS PLACE wouldn't be closed?"

Peter said, "This is the LAST STRAW. First of all, the food was just okay, Secondly, their waiters cannot pour water into your glass without spilling it ALL OVER THE TABLE, and NOW THIS!! We are NEVER COMING BACK HERE AGAIN!"

Our list of Westchester restaurants we are never going back to? Growing by the minute.

NaBloPoMoWha?

Generally, I am the last person to come across anything. I became a Nirvana fan right around the time Kurt Cobain committed suicide, I started listening to The Police when Sting already started Stinging, and I was the last person to get a Cabbage Patch Doll at the tail end -- and, oh yes, don't forget the real estate craze - we bought our house right at the height of the market.

I just heard about NaBloPoMo - a bit too late, being as there is only a handful of days left in November. Apparently, many bloggers had been posting every day this month, taking on the challenge, and I, once again, have missed the boat.

Why is the world conspiring against me?

Paranormal Girl

Peter's nephew brought his new girlfriend over Thanksgiving dinner - and she was a very nice girl. One of the first things she talked about was her interest in the paranormal, which, OF COURSE, made her very interesting to me.

She told us that she had just gone to this haunted prison (i don't remember where - but I think somewhere in MA) where they lock you in for the night and you get to hang out with some ghosts.

I'm just not sure why she would tell people she had just met three minutes before about this -- I don't tell people right off the bat that I had a crazy aunt locked in her room.

Is this weird? Or is an interest in the paranormal quite normal?

I Heart Calzones

Peter just made the most beautiful and delicious calzones in the world. I will definitely tell my children to choose spouses who know how to make mouth-watering calzones.

I mean, without them, life would be completely meaningless.

Love the Freak in Your Family

We went to see the movie, Lars and the Real Girl, on Tuesday and it was so terrific. The premise of the story is that Lars comes home one day with a girlfriend...a girlfriend that is a sex doll...a girlfriend Lars believes is a real person.

I could relate to this movie because for a few years after college, I lived in the same apartment as my crazy aunt. My father was kind enough to allow his sister to live in one of our apartments in Queens, NY -- so when I returned to New York City, I took over one of the other bedrooms in the apartment. At this point, she had lived in the apartment for years, not paying any rent, hardly ever coming out of her room. She would sit in her room and watch television and she made her money on the stock market. As a child (she talked more to the children in our family than the adults - and once I became an adult...well, you get the picture.), I asked her why she was so interested in the stockmarket, and she actually said:

"I wanted to make money doing something where I didn't have to leave the house...something I could continue doing even into old age."

Too bad for her, there was no INTERNET at the time. Perhaps she could have started an interesting blog, such as, "My Stock Pick of The Day," or "How Many Days Can I Go Without Coming Out of My Room."

It was very strange, living in the same apartment as her and...not interacting with her. Sometimes I tried to talk to her (let's say, when she walked into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice) but she politely ignored me. After a while, I got used to it, and it just because a part of my everyday existence.

Occasionally,I had friends over, and she would hide in her room the entire time. My friend Gus used to come over a lot, and stay pretty late, too. And one time he said, "You know, I don't believe that you live with anyone. I think you flick that light on in that room so that I can see it under the door, and you've been pretending this whole time."

Once I had a wild party, where we ended up staying up all night and going for breakfast in the morning...a breakfast of beef noodles from the Chinese restaurant down the street -- and not one peep from her. I think everyone was excited about the possibility of her making an appearance.

The movie made me feel that you should just love and accept the freak in your family, because you never know...One day, the freak may be you.

Happy Birthday Rocky!

Today Rocky turned 6 years old -- in dog years, that's 37. When we decided to get Scout, I really wanted a dog and researched a few dozen breeds. We went to several breeders of different dogs, when I finally came to the conclusion that I really, really, really, wanted a yellow Lab.

I had the books, I bought the chew toys, I got the organic dog food, I was PREPARED.

Two years later, Peter and I were walking through the Garden State Plaza mall and I told him I wanted to look at the puppies.

BIG MISTAKE.

DO NOT EVER STOP BY THE PUPPY STORE JUST TO LOOK AT PUPPIES.

Peter saw Rocky, a teeny all-white Siberian Husky, turn around in his little kennel, put his head down and sigh. Peter turned to me and said, "I want that dog."

I asked the girl at the pet store to bring Rocky out. He was so squirmy, he wouldn't stay in my arms for two seconds. The girl came back around to see how we were doing, and Rocky was so excited to see her, he was almost bouncing. He was such a happy dog, and I turned to Peter and said, "I love him sooooooooooooo much!"

Scout was kind of like that planned child, the one that has the name all picked out. The one that gets the freshly painted room even before they're even created. Rocky was like that mistake, the one that happens with an "Ooops! Too much wine!" moment.

As soon as we brought him home, Scout HATED him. She couldn't stand to look at him. She looked at us like we betrayed her. Sort of like, "Why would you DO THIS TO ME! I'm going to my room, and I'm not coming back out until you GET RID of THIS!"

Then we brought him to the dog park, and our friends there were HORRIFIED we got him at a pet store.

"But they told us he was from a breeder," I said, defending myself. And, of course, they all shook their heads at me and told me that it was a lie, and that all good dog-loving people should know this information because, didn't you know? It came in THE HANDBOOK. One of those dog-park-people even told me to return him to the store, and continued to tell me to do this, every time I saw her.

Because Scout hated him, and the dog-park-people hated him, it was a bit difficult for me to bond with him at first. And he kept climbing out of his dog area in the kitchen, so on Valentine's Day, he climbed over this obstacle course in the kitchen I made out of Peter's guitar amps and I had it. I yelled at him, picked him up, and slammed him back down into his puppy area.

Alarmed, Peter grabbed his keys and the dog and said that he was returning him. I ran after him and during the whole ride to the store, I held Rocky in my arms, where he calmly sat, not knowing that a human drama was unfolding.

We sat in the car outside the store for two hours, and every time we thought about bringing him back, it hurt so much inside that we cried (Okay, I cried, wailed and sobbed. Peter kind of had 1.8 tears well up in his eyes). And to top it all off, it was Valentine's Day. I knew that if I returned this dog, I could never celebrate another Valentine's Day ever again.

Finally, we decided to go home and we've been a family ever since.

And Rocky never again tried to escape from his puppy area.

I Was Following You!

I've been taking a belly dancing class on Tuesday nights, and it's been so much fun. Yesterday was election day, so the gym was overtaken by poll machines and our class was held in a different room.

I saw my teacher and we started walking together and chatting. We walk all the way down the hall and she turns to me and says, "Are you sure this is the right way?"

I look at her and say, "I've been following you! I don't know where the class is."



This reminds me of the time I took my sisters and two cousins to the movies. They were all about seven and eight-years-old. After the movie let out, I asked them:

"So, do any of you remember where we parked?"

James, the smallest one, turns to me and he looks like I just told him I ripped up all his beloved Pokemon cards and ran over his best friend. He says:

"I don't know! YOU'RE the ADULT! YOU'RE RESPONSIBLE!!"


I mean, SHE's the TEACHER. She's RESPONSIBLE.

You: Reading This Blog

I went to Borders yesterday, and was struck by how many You books there were:

You: The Owners Manual
You: Staying Young
You: On a Diet
You: On a Walk

Pretty soon those guys are going to run out of ideas, so I have several:

You: At Borders
You: Walking to Your Car
You: Programming Tivo