obsessions

I have a couple of new obsessions. The first is a series on the Sundance Channel called Live From Abbey Road. It's an awesome show with live recording sessions at the infamous studio. Last night they had Jamiroquai, Damien Rice and the Goo Goo Dolls. I had a very vague idea who Damien Rice was... However, after hearing this song...he is my new obsession.



Last week they had Dr. John, LeAnn Rimes and Massive Attack. And now I am (also) obsessed with this song.

The other obsession is Agave Nectar. I started using it as a substitute for sugar and now I find myself looking for excuses to use it in everything. Agave Martini, Agave Sorbet, Agave Yogurt ??? I think I seriously need help....

release

I have been conflicted on whether I should do a post regarding the events of the past Saturday. But sometimes just putting things down allows you to let it go....

As most of you know, my father is a life long alcoholic. Wow, it still remains difficult for me to put that down in black and white.

Anyway, since my mother passed away in 2006, it has been just my dad and I. I know that he loves me and doesn’t understand why I keep my distance, why I rarely call him, why I don’t include him. For my own preservation I have limited his presence in my life for the better part of 20 years. His addiction has wreaked havoc, humiliation and pain on my life and lucky him….he wakes up in the morning with no memory of his actions. If it hadn’t been for my mother’s sister and cousins, I would have been unsalvageable. My cousins took the place of those siblings that I never had…they were my family in every sense of the word.

This brings me to Saturday… My father called but I hadn’t heard the phone ring, so I missed the call and he didn’t leave a message. I decided to get a cup of coffee to gather myself before I returned his call. However, I never had the chance. My cousin called and quite frankly after I said hello, all I heard was the most painful wailing I have ever heard. I couldn’t make out anything she was saying and I could hear my aunt in the background sobbing. Finally, my cousin was able to string enough coherent words together that I now understood why they were so utterly devastated. My father had just called and told them that the coroner’s office had just called to let him know that I had passed away. I was speechless. And then the biggest wave of guilt washed over me. I was helpless to comfort my family…I was numb.

The rest of the day was a fog. My family (my mother’s side) contacted my father and informed him that they were cutting all ties. For over 40 years, we have all endured his addiction and this was the deal breaker. My father continued to drink throughout the day and rallied his siblings to contact me and plead his case. Somehow, he was being sold as the victim. I refuse to speak to any of them. He continued to call and leave message after message and his story morphed over time…first it was the coroner that called, then someone had called him to say they were hurting me, then someone had called and had told him they had murdered me and the last version had me dead from a gunshot wound. However, the truth does not have versions.

I had to get out of the house…I went for some retail therapy. On my way to the store the police department called me to determine what condition I may be in. I was flabbergasted. My first response literally to the officer was, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding, right?” After I explained my family situation, the officer noted my father’s “condition” in the system. How many times have I had to have my father’s “condition” noted throughout my life? More times then I care to admit.

I finally contacted my father in the evening only to let him know how completely reckless and cruel his actions were, how horrified I felt that my father could inflict such pain and be so ignorant while doing so. Even if I were to considered that he truly believed these “calls” actually took place, that consideration could not be overcome by the fact that he continued to drink throughout the day and make phone call after phone call; that his addiction has permanently altered his ability to think and act like a reasonable person.

Well, it’s not everyday that you can see how your death would affect your loved ones. In a strange almost inappropriate sense, I was immensely flattered and touch that my family would be so shattered from such news. It was as if I truly had escaped death that day. However, a much bigger escape took place…I was free of the guilt and obligation that has imprisoned me in regards to my father. There was nothing more that he could do to hurt me because that’s all he was capable of doing to me. I was finally…released.

now who's the alpha dog???

I returned from my lunch and went to check my cell phone. There on the display were three missed calls from Craig all within a minute of one another, but no voicemail. I began to panic and scary thoughts ran through my head... Were the dogs hurt? Did the SWAT team take over our home as a command center? Have we been robbed? WHAT????

After my second attempt at getting Craig on the phone he finally answers. "Honey, you called three times...is everything alright; are the dogs alright?" My pulse began to race. After a pregnant pause he says, "I was in a rush to make my appointment on time and I broke your Q-Tip holder in the bathroom." Now I had the pregnant pause... Was he kidding? I resisted the impulse to laugh because he seemed sincerely apologetic and something else...was it fear? I guess my pause was longer than I thought because he blurts out, "I'll buy you a new one!" Now I really had to laugh. Finally I let him off the hook; "Don't worry, I'm not upset, but that set cannot be replaced; it's been discontinuted. So, I'll just get a new one." I swore that I heard a sigh of relief from his side of the phone.

After I hung up, I immediately went on the internet to scope out the new bathroom set that Craig is buying.

true tales from my hood...that's just how we roll

Good thing to see in the morning...your neighborhood Peet's Coffee....



Bad thing to see in the morning...3 fully armed SWAT teams in riot gear headed in the direction of your home followed by 3 cruisers, 2 firetrucks and several large surveillance trucks... Can we say, crack house?

Happy Wednesday!!!

disturbing but oddly intriguing

WARNING: This post may contain material that is offensive. It is intended for immature audiences.

Tanya recently convinced me to add a site meter to my blog to track my traffic. Of course, this is part of a grander scheme of total world domination by way of my blog. The land of delusion is a sweet, sweet place.

Anyway, the site meter gives you major amounts of information, most of which is rather boring....ISP info, times, lengths of visits, browser information. You get the picture. But, it does have one totally fascinating item of information that it collects...browser search words. Now, before I go further, I need to explain how my blog continues to come up on these "innocent" searches. First off, there is the name of my blog....you'll see later. Then, there was the post about the "passion party" that Tanya and I had attended last year. Then, there was the other post about a show on the Travel Channel with Anthony Bourdain and his trip to Namibia that included some bushmen delicacies (warthog anus). And finally, just the combination of words and things made reference to in past posts add to some odd searches. So, here are some of my favorite word searches from the site meter information. If this keeps up, this may be a regular post subject.

Can you marry your dog (now, I would like to think my fan base is so huge that word has spread and people are Googling to find my blog, but I fear they are actually trying to find out if they can in fact, marry their dog)

Can you marry your horse ( I don't even want to know)

Can you marry a fish (seriously?)

Can I marry my cousin's daughter (not bright enough to realize this would just be your second cousin)

Bushmen warthog anus (maybe they saw the same show)

What can you put up your anus (close the door...quickly!)

Cousin fuck anus (even scarier....is this related to the marrying of the cousin's daughter?)

Dildo in high school (seems reasonable if attending an all-girls school)

Dog dildo (insert scream here)

Kody do Tony hog (A pull from a combination of posts referencing Tanya's dog Kody, Anthony Bourdain and the infamous warthog)


And my personal favorite:

Pictures of Amazon mushrooms that kill your kindness in 24 hours. (I really don't know what medication this person is on...but honey, send some over here)

let the celebrations begin

Some of the birthday-eve curse of the 27th squirmed it’s way through on the 28th… Now, here’s the part where I bitch about the Department of Motor Vehicles. I know that I will most likely offend some of my readers…okay, one of my readers, but that is the price you pay when you blog about.

I worked 5 hours on my birthday so I could take off early, run a few errands and get a massage. Unfortunately, not only had I lost my ATM card, but my driver’s license as well. It expired anyway, but this just complicated some issues. I headed over to the DMV to stand in line to get a number to then stand in line….I kid you not. It is finally my turn and the counter staff person’s attitude immediately turns dour when I inform her that I don’t have my license because it was lost along with my ATM card. Many sighs and grunts ensue and she plods over to another person…I couldn’t make out what they were saying but it involved MANY hand gestures. She finally returns to the window and states that it will be $28.00 to renew/replace my license (inside I am screaming, “28 dollars!!!! Do they provide a stylist and wardrobe for that amount of money? This better be the best damn picture ever taken of me). However, I remain calm and ask her if they take Discover. She states that they do not take any credit, but they do take cash, ATM or a check. I tell her that I do not have my checkbook or enough cash on me. She directs me to the closest ATM. Apparently, my hardship story left little impression on her since I had already told her that I lost my ATM card. So, I ask her if I have to get back in line when I return with the necessary cash. She then informs me that she is off in 10 minutes, so it will not be possible to return to her window. Translation: “You are screwed and you will have to get back into the line to get back into the line. CRAP!

Well, I still had to stop by my dad’s so I decided to go to the bank over there and try another DMV office because everyone knows that THIS is the perfect way to spend your day. The stop at my dad’s was soooo worth it. He gave me the Vidalia Onion Chopper (that Tanya insists is better than eating chocolate WHILE having sex) the Vidalia Onion Slicer, the Pedegg and a barely used Sony 20 inch LCD TV. Some very good loot…

Once I got my cash and went to the other DMV and completed my license renewal, I had to scrap the massage plan and just go for a pedicure. Other than some loud-mouth so and so that continued to proclaim that SHE was having a bad day while she bitched through her entire service, the pedicure was wonderful.

Craig and the pups made dinner for me and we toasted with some wonderful bubbles. Since he went WAY overboard at Christmas this year, I told him to practice some restraint. He gave me one of the sweetest gifts; health insurance for my puppies. Great, isn’t it? I think so.

The next day, Tanya and I attended an Elk’s Lodge Installation for one of our co-workers.

Here is Kathleen being installed as Exhaulted Ruler...in the office I will now refer to her as "Oh Exhaulted One".

Next time I feel old or unattractive, I must remember this ceremony. Other than a few children, we were the youngest and hottest people in attendance.

The other "hot" ladies in attendance.

The newly "installed" Elks

And the food was completely retro; meatballs, chicken wings, cold cuts, deviled eggs and olives. Our chef reminded me of Bigfoot. And just like the mythical being…all my pictures of him were blurry.

The Mythical Chef Bigfoot

I don't even want to know...Chef BF now has a large bandage around his hand.

We actually had fun…although we did plan our escape because Tanya and I had important business to attend to at Sephora. Don’t hate us because we’re beautiful…just fawn at our feet. Anyway, the shopping made us parched so we went to California Café to have a little drink and found ourselves seated next to a possible stripper and her toupee’d and tanned mail escort. Bubbles seemed to have trouble remaining conscious and just at the edge of landing face first into her salad, she ordered another drink. Yeah, that seems like a reasonable choice.


On Sunday, my cousin picked me up and took me to Half Moon Bay to spend the night and celebrate my birthday with just us two. We had a great time….

The San Benito Inn...excellent Bloody Marys and the elderly gentlemen around the bar lead a rousing chorus to "Papa Loves Mambo"

The beautiful Pacific Ocean.

A beautiful church in Pescadaro

Princeton by the Sea, a lovely little lighthouse at a youth hostel

So ends my birthday weekend and now I must get to the business of aging…gracefully. Thanks to all of you for your birthday wishes.