I am attending an amazing workshop in *eeek* Ireland ! *double eeek* in two weeks. She posted she has a blog that is beginning and would like to start a little group of us to form a tribe if you will. So I thanked her for the nudge and will be reopening my blog (onceirememberhowtoputitalltoetheragain). Get ready for lots of photos on ART, FOOD, RUINS, PEOPLE, SHOES, WEIRD THINGS and more from Ireland and then Italy! Feels good to be back.
Oh goodness, I did it again, didn’t I? It has been three months since I posted..about the time I last shaved my legs. Both are lost in forests somewhere. You know how life gets in the way and your addiction to Facebook takes all your time? me, too. I did do a Christmas home tour post but I never sent it- does that count?
So, I am the strange(r) but the lime green guitar – WOA! Sing with me:
Oh sorry. I am telling the story of the guitar…Once upon a time, a Nana was driving to see her grandbabies. What to her amazing eyes should appear? A guitar in a trash pile. A TRASH pile with a guitar in it. Anytime there is a trash pile, my pilot just swerves- literally (if you see my car please get out of the way). Being in the cover of the dark, I gleefully jumped out of my car, grabbed the guitar, jumped back in and shouted “YEEEHAWWW I gotta guitar!” (no just teasing about that).
I immediately thought it would be fabulous to create a piece of art for Hot Boy but had to keep it hidden from Mr Mark for a while because he just doesn’t ‘get’ it sometimes. I have learned to show him things after they are completed!
So…drum roll…here it is !
and one proud boy..
Gotcha didn’t I? With a title like that you were probably thinking this blog entry was going to be a doozy…well…it is going to be fun but not given a restricted rating.
I spent the day in a “Reproductive Health” education meeting. The day started magnificently with 70s tunes on the radio. The broadcaster innocently played popular songs but since my brain was ticking away on what the meeting was about, the titles became convulated
or twisted for those of you who do not know big words and nor do you care to learn them. You ain’t seen nothin yet….hmmmm….another one bites (the dust) and then Who’s Crying Now hit my funny bone. The people in the cars I passed (while going the speed limit – I think – it doesn’t matter now anyway) must have thought I was recovering from another bad episode of laughing gas. Wait! that made me weird out not in a good way. moving on…
I got a drink through the drive through and discovered that some ladies have more facial hair than my white dog (hope none fell into my drink). And someone’s morning was not as good as mine….. they sort of plowed into a row of brand new and expensive cars in the car lot ! How embarassing…
What I learned at the Reproductive Health training:
Don’t go by instructions on where trainings are being held. The registration said one city and one hotel when in fact it was held in another city in another hotel. How come only two of us were not told this? Well, like I have always told my mom: you can never hide from me – I will find you anywhere ! and I have proven that once again.
Our meeting was next door to a vintage guitar sale. Which means nothing to this blog except they looked pretty cool.
We were told post-partum depression symptoms included: not showering, not doing hair or makeup, walking around in a nightgown all day and no smile on the face. I now know I have suffered from post-partum depression for 48 years. There. I feel better now…
monogrammed coffee travel cup. don’t know why I wrote that down in my notes.
Suddenly in the middle of the training
somewhere between the Mirena IUD and the cervical cap I had an epiphany. I felt like I had been in the exact meeting before ! You know, that deja vu thing people talk about. Good thing I didn’t stand up and shout Hallelujia because the guys next door would have been pulling out their dollar bills.
The estimated cost of having your whole body tattooed is $30-60,000. Oh sorry. My mind wandered.
Professional women actually use the term “sex workers” in public. “Sex workers”? and they said it with straight faces? The guitar sale people next door where probably peering through the crack in the door at this point.
I discovered the chosen birth control for me in 1987 had a 9% pregnancy rate if used correctly. Well, I used it correctly but Hello Ashley!
Condoms are given out holiday color coded. Which means red and green for Christmas, black and orange for Halloween, holes in them for Labor Day (just kidding – I made that one up). I personally think this is a good idea because girls like to match and be fashionable. Remember: it’s not about your shoe color, it’s about the color of your condom. Pretty 2010?
I learned that IUD strings are like fishing twine and should not be cut too short because, well…we don’t need to go into that on this family oriented blog but I should just say it can become uncomfortable.
and the last thing which has annoyed me for 20 years. Why do speakers take the time to print off their power point presentation (oh gosh. They didn’t have power point 20 years ago, did they?) when you can’t even read them? The graphs, etc are wayyyy toooo small….. What’s the point ? (pun intended)
Have a wonderful weekend!
((Disclaimer: The author of the blog entry you find below, is not to be held responsible for any eye treatment deemed necessary after viewing the above mentioned post due to straining of eyes on bad photography based on the capacities of current technology known as a purpleberry transmission.))
Ok. I love Christmas. Like really love it. So while searching for ideas for a Winter banner I am making, Meghan and I hit the Christmas aisles in our local Target (pronounced tar jay).
Tacky apparently is the theme this year but one must dress appropriately when shopping for Christmas
and it is not me being tacky because I wore these: and chucks are NOT tacky. They are cool. Cause I wear them. and these high tops came from Vegas which is a cool place to shop. and no I don’t walk like this. and yes I learned to tie my shoes at the appropriate age.
We were shocked at what we found. Frightened. Disturbed. First we saw this.
And then we saw this….
A unicorn with pink feathers? I felt nausea wash over me. and Target
pronounced tar jay actually pays a DESIGNER to DESIGN these things?
and then we saw this:
Oh no! Blazing saddles ! What have they done? This is a nightmare! My legs started trembling – so badly I had to sit down. Right there in the aisle. Really. You can see me on the 11/20/10 8:14 roll of security film.
Wait! That’s it ! I am on Hidden Camera! oh. They don’t film that anymore.
Oh! I know now – I am on What Would You Do? ! But no one came rushing in to tell me they were creating a documentary on tacky Christmas ornaments and the people who fight for their rights.
and then we saw this…
BLACK SNOWFLAKES! OH MY GOSH! I hate dirty snow! Does Target (pronounced tar jay) donate a portion of the purchase price to the “Prevention of Dirty Snowflakes Int.” or perhaps the “West Virginian’s Against Coal Dust Covered Snow”?
At this point, I was frantically searching my
knock-off purse to locate the barf bag that I kept from my recent trip to Vegas. Folks. This has got to stop! Meghan and I just knew we needed to get out of this aisle FAST so we did what sane women do…. went for chocolate therapy:
Have you had one of these luscious, slobber inspiring, gifts from Hershey’s? Ohhhhhhh. Awwwwwwwwwwww. Yummmmmmmyyyyyyyyy….. sigh……
One last look down the TTTA (terrifically tacky target anonymous) aisle sealed the deal on my needing PTSD treatment in-house.
Who puts armadillos on a Christmas tree? Blingy ones? They have prehistoric scales and look all puffed up and usually lay on their backs by the sides of highways don’t they? Would you even associate them with Christmas? No! duh.
I am having a breakdown.
I don’t think I am going to be purchasing new ornaments unless it is for target practice.
This day has made me so distraught, I can’t even begin to organize this entry to where it looks nice…. oh well. My shoes are pretty!
Until next time when the chucks have another adventure…..
Today found me in a shopping frenzy, a chucks quest, and in paparazzi mode.
First up. shopping
To all those people who have asked me for sage advice when visiting Vegas for their first time….I bow to you. I have warned a multitude of you to wear comfortable shoes.
shoes that have become a part of you ….
and I didn’t today… Look what happens.
BEWARE: gross picture coming up!
Don’t know why but I am in the mood to sing!
(sing with me to the tune of a Christmas song that we all know and love….)
On the fifth day of Christmas, Debi did see:
5 men who aren’t real (elmo, michael jackson, stone man, johnny Depp and Jedi)
4 guitar players bumming
3 Elvis’ gyrating
2 flamingo dancers/strippers accepting money
1 girl getting her picture taken with the strip club promoters
and a character from Toy Story….
Ta da !
Tomorrow we shall fly back home but yet this city has a way of returning home with you. I have become a fan of smart screens (played with them all over the place)
and am now on an iPad quest, washed my hands along side men in the Todd English restaurant PUB (their toilets are separate from their sink area-sort of weird), and eaten bread pudding that had Captain Crunch in it which I will never do again.
I have also experienced ghosts in my room, weird people thinking this room belongs to people they actually know, and found myself in a changing room with a man creating Christmas trees out of paper plates (ok. let’s talk about this one. I was in Anthro trying on pants. came out of the dressing room because pants were way tooo long. saw a man standing there putting together a tree made from paper plates. so being the creative person I am. I go up to him -mind you we are in a CHANGING ROOM- and start doing the only-artists-truly-get-each-other-talk talk and say – did you do this all yourself? and yes he did! and his name is Tate and he is in charge of displays for Anthro of Vegas. and he is beyond cool. and very nice. and I totally forgot how truly bizarre carrying on a converation with a man I do not know in a ladies’ changing room should be. He is awesome. I want to take him home with me and hold him prisoner in my art room so I have a creative playmate (and no, not in that way you dirty minded people).
It is made of squares cut out of magazines, etc and crinkled pieces of copper. They are stapled together in groups of 8 or ten.
and then stapled together in a huge piece of art. all I can say is..
w o w…!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So that wraps up the trip so far. I am energized. My brain is exploding with creative juices. and I am desperately trying to wedge a 6’8″ man into my suitcase.
We made it to Vegas in record time. According to our pilot, we were 30 minutes ahead of schedule when we landed…does this mean he broke the speed limit? Glad the air police weren’t watching..
It all began in the Dulles airport. The ticket man came to Mark and I and asked if we would be willing to change seats to be by the emergency exit. He actually told Mark he needed two people who spoke English! Ironically, he was Hispanic with a HEAVY accent LOL So we, being the world-seasoned gracious travelers that we are, said sure… up we moved on the plane from row 26 to row 21 (or about there I can’t remember so please do not look it up but just trust me to say it was a big plane with two wings and a good engine)….then I did the Debi panic thing combined with a tad bit of whining.. Debi: but I want a window Mark: you will have one they always have a window Debi: (whining increases expontentially to the occasion) but I really have to have one … Mark: (sensing a temper tantrum quickly approaching): ok , I will ask …. Mark asks ticket guy-with-the-heavy-accent says he will move us….now we are on row 9! Joke is on the airline: they asked if we understood English but not if I could HEAR it !! LOL (those of you who don’t personally know me…I do have a *snicker* slight hearing impairment..um….
We get in line to board and they are doing body searches! You know how you start to have sweaty palms and your heart starts beating out of your chest and you strive to maintain innocence on your face which just makes you reek guiltiness and you begin to think you may be a bad person but you know you are not but the airline has this hypnotic effect on your brain so your pheromones become all screwed up? yeah, me too…
Vegas is always fun. Except when two people are sleep deprived and that coupled with time change and the 3 hr time difference makes us sleepy at 6pm and wide awake at 4am! It never fails…we say we are going to eat at these fabulous restaurants and we never do because we are propping our eyes open at lunchtime.
Notes to future Vegas tourists:
Elvis eats Lunchables and downs them with Diet Coke
Boa constrictors are on the street
People sunbathe fully dressed at 10am on windy days
Chucks can be found (in case you are wondering). I bought a pair.
and another pair just because when you are in vegas it is legal. Rule 472:85
Elvis is alive. I saw him. Really.
Spagos is still the best.
Olives does not serve olives.
Donney and Bourke hipsters can be found for cheap. not in a kiosk in a dark alley. and they are real!
There are characters of all movies present: Elvis, silver elvis, princess lea, darth vader and someones from a war movie who was painted dark green all over.
Lots of art, too! a female accordian player, magician, comedian, and a painting commissioned for the new city center tram that looks like porno if you look closely at it….(?) but since I didn’t take my camera and only had my purpleberry to document, I was stingy with my picture taking.
I do get like that sometimes. honest. I know there are many of you out there who would never believe that I could be stingy because I truly am not…well, I don’t think so…
Beer also flies here according to Chef Todd English. I didn’t see it but we were charged for a beer flight. I am still looking in the sky to see if I see beer flying up above.
Our suitcase was sent to Denver. Entire story goes like this. Me sitting in the new row by the emergency door, not hearing a thing, but watching the luggage go up a belt into our plane. Saw Markees go up….thought I saw mine go up. Fast forward through bad movie on plane, lawyer/cpa obsessing with her laptop over IRS junk the entire flight with elbows out so markee couldn’t even use his tray and a screech landing in which we thought the pilot must have awakened from his slumber at the last minute. We go to baggage turnthing #13 (of course! be in vegas where 13 is your lucky number) where some anger management attendees are below ground and venting their emotions in a positive manner by throwing our luggage to us and there’s markees!!!! woooooo! woo! wo……no mine…..still no mine…waiting a little longer….no mine…..go to lost luggage where we discover the conveyor belt at the back of the plane in Dulles broke so they just didn’t load the rest but sent them on to Denver. Long story. I got my suitcase back after 1am.
Long post but it ends nicely:
(Disclaimer: the author of this blog post does not in any way reflect the teaching of the English Language by her fabulous high school English teachers. It does reflect the fact that the stores are now open and she is itching to get to Anthropologie and Caesars palace so she is typing fast fueled by a diet coke. )