Superfun...d

What would the holidays be without mystery substances in my home?

I give you the saga of the bio hazard baseball cap.

The black and red cap was left at my place by a friend back in August. In an effort to keep the cat from molesting it I put it in the living room closet and promptly forgot about it. This month I was rearranging for a party and came across the cap. It felt slightly damp, but I gave it little thought, just moved it out of the cold closet.

With the holidays over the cap's owner was making noises about retrieving it and his lemon stick. I decided the cap could used a little soap and water so I filled the sink with warm water and a little dish soap...and the water turned a neon green upon contact with the hat. We are talking nuclear Gatorade here. The cap is BLACK and RED. Where the hell did the green come from!!!

Soooo knowing it had been in Iraq I decided to step away from the hat after hanging it up to dry, trying desperately to get the idea of chemical warfare out of my mind. Once it had dried out a bit I thought the brim looked like it had some stuff on it so I took an old toothbrush to it...which then turned black. I believe I shrieked. Frank is worried that it might be mold. I thought of putting it into the microwave, but then with my luck that would result in a sentient life form and I'm just not up to the responsibility. So it is now in a brown paper bag awaiting a haz-mat team.

Next on my list of Superfund activities is the blue blob living in my mailbox. I'm thinking I may just get a new mailbox...

Tis the Season

It has been a lovely week, I must say. Saturday I had the joy of having all the people I love come to my place to celebrate the holidays, catch up and be generally jolly and silly. There are pictures...on my camera...which I have not downloaded. So stay tuned, those will appear at some point!

For those under 10 there were presents under the tree. Those over 10 pooled our cash to help out a little girl with some tremendous hospital bills, which later made other people cry.
Adding to the hilarity was Aly's hummas envy, Charlotte sneaking away with Zoe's cup, Don declaring he had no idea what Monie thought was sexy and a cooridinated stairway block by Team Lester.

After folks called it a night Frank and I headed into the city to another party-a benefit for the little girl. Out added contribution got some tears and hugs, adding to a nice chunk of change that will hopefully take a little pressure off the family.

I helped out in the kitchen from 1-2 (yes, AM) with Ted and Val












Danced downstairs.....


















Danced Upstairs....









Listened to Anand and Kilowatts do there thing...








Hung out with Frank from 3-4 for his security shift...










Then started the adventure that was finding a cab and going to bed.

A long, fun weekend.

F-ing Important!

Ha! I bet you thought this was a rant! Fooled you!

How often do we think about the alphabet? Sure, playing hangman we know the important letters are vowels and S, T, R and L are always good bets. But what about F?

I never thought much about F until the F on my laptop began to stick. I'd be typing along and realize I'd just typed:

"I should probably mop the kitchen loor more oten"

The remedy was to type like normal then pound on the F when its turn came. That can't be good for the computer.

So last night I popped the key off and removed a rather impressive lint/hair ball from the keyboard. It's working much better now.

And now I won't take my F-ing for granted!

As Time Goes By

This time last year I was 2 days out of back surgery and barely able to walk.

I was living with Lydia and her lovely family, who so kindly took care of me.

Jill and Dan were sweet and took care of my little zoo.

Monie got me out of the house and out to the movies.

Greg and Aly took me grocery shopping and helped me get settled back into my apartment.

Chuck, Julie and Charlotte kept my spirits up with great visits.

Don reverted to his ethnic roots and tried to feed away the pain while laughing a little.

Connie and Andrew came over for pizza once I was back at my place to make sure I wasn't doing anything dumb.


And here I am a year later: mobile, happy, alive and still very, very fortunate to have such wonderful people in my life.

Titles and Entitlement

Yesterday I got an e-mail from my ex-husband. A mass mailing as he is want to do, usually updating everyone in his address book about how he's doing. Not a biggie. The marriage is long over and as time goes on I learn more and more that it really wasn't fated to last on either side. Learn, forgive, move on. I would not call us friends, perhaps acquaintances that used to be close but are now congenial when circumstances bring us together.

That said, this e-mail was about a new endeavor of his. A theatrical/artistic happening as it were that will take place next year. A happening that needs funding. He was asking those on the list to consider donating the small sum of $1 to help with production costs.

I was irritated by this. Not because he asked or because I thought he was up to something dishonest, but because he included me, asked me. I am his ex-wife. That is my title. Not buddy, friend, or ex-girlfriend. I have fought my baser nature not to be the stereotypical ex-wife, but in this case I wish he'd gone with it. Part of me feels it shouldn't bother me, but it does.

I think it is because he still feels entitled to call me friend. Friends do not go through a divorce and come out the other side like nothing happened. It isn't that I'm waiting for an apology or anything, it isn't necessary. Things have happened over the course of time and nothing can change that. It isn't an anger thing, just a fact. The marriage ended and so did the friendship. Too much water under too small a bridge I suppose. One he keeps trying to skip over like nothing happened. Even my memory is not that bad.

But there really isn't a way to impart this information in a gentle way I haven't already tried, nor do I feel the need to be a harpy about it. So I'll vent a little here then wish him well.

But he isn't getting my $1.

Pthbbbb!