My Life after Citizens Bank

Wake up call: 12pm

Bedtime: 3am

Daytime activities: shower occasionally, sun bathing, jog 3 miles, finding a good movie to rent, taking Molly to the park, sitting on the front porch people watching, laying on the hammock, reading, shopping

Activities after hours: vodka and chinese checkers

ahh yes I can be a kid again….

Getting old isn’t easy

You know you’re really young when you’re watching a comedy show with your boyfriend and he can’t relate to Gilbert Gottfried as being the voice of Iago, [the parrot on the Disney movie Aladdin] because it came out when you were 10 and he was 18. And seeing how there are like ony 3 other people who read this blog, and they are only a few years older than him I guess I’m alone on this one too!

yikesabees

I watched Pulp Fiction for the first time last night…Hurray!

Never Argue with a Woman

One morning the husband returns after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap. Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors, and reads her book.

Along comes a Game Warden in his boat. He pulls up alongside the woman and says, “Good morning, Ma’am. What are you doing?”

“Reading a book,” she replies, (thinking, “Isn’t that obvious?”)
“You’re in a Restricted Fishing Area,” he informs her.
“I’m sorry, officer, but I’m not fishing. I’m reading.”
“Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. I’ll have to take you in and write you up.”

“If you do that, I’ll have to charge you with sexual assault,” says the woman.

“But I haven’t even touched you,” says the game warden.
“That’s true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment.”
“Have a nice day ma’am,” and he left.

MORAL: Never argue with a woman who reads. It’s likely she can also think.

It’s what’s for dinner

Tonight is Sushi from Ichiban, but last night……..

meat- Lightly salted grilled veal loin, extra pepper
garnished with sauteed portabella mushrooms and fresh garlic

starch- baked potatos with butter, salt and pepper [wrap it in tin foil, slowly bake for an hour 1/2]

veggie- sauteed spinach with garlic [it’s my favorite]

beverage- one too many glasses of some kinda white wine

Six Toes Plus Five on the Other Equals Eleven

My mother has six toes on her left foot. It makes me squeamish. I guess you could say her left foot reminds me why God only gave us five toes instead of six. In the summer when she wears sandals some people stop and stare. Although it is strange to look at her foot she is my mom, so I always say, “What are you looking at? Don’t you have six toes too?”

Mom and I laugh and joke about her toe because she doesn’t really care. I think she feels unique. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else with six toes before. I mean I know it happens. I’ve just never seen it before. I wonder what my dad thought when he was dating her. I bet he said, “I hope she doesn’t ask me to massage her feet.” Then he probably mumbled “at least not that left one.”

My mom has a huge shoe fetish. Except that her left foot is bigger than the right because of that darn extra toe, so when she tries on shoes she asks for a size 6 and also a 6 ½. Then she takes the size 6 for her right foot and the 6 ½ for her foot with the extra toe. She tries to be sneaky when she switches. One time we were at Macy’s and she was trying on a pair of sneakers. I was looking at a pair of shoes for myself and I saw her switching and I said, “Mom, what are you doing?!!” She eyed me calmly and replied, “My left foot is bigger than the other, so I need a bigger size for my extra toe.”

One time we were on a beach in Florida, and I was in a really bad mood. My mom and I were arguing. I don’t even remember about what. Some people walked by and stared at her extra toe, and my mom looked at me because I always make some silly comment when that happens so that they will get embarrassed and look away. Except this time I was really mad at her, so I said, “Mom, why don’t you just get that stupid toe removed?!” Usually the people walk away, but this time their eyes got really big, like the eyes on fish in one of those glass bowls. They gasped and just kept staring at her left foot. I felt bad afterwards. Later I told my mom that she should never get rid of her extra toe because I like it. Then in her sweet little voice she said, “You wish you had my extra toe don’t you?” I just smiled back at her. I didn’t say it then, but I was thinking “No mom, I really don’t think I could handle having an extra toe.”

Actually, though, I think it makes my Mom stronger having six toes on one foot.

Oh by the way, I forgot to mention that her extra toe is a big toe, so she has the two big toes, one baby toe and those three medium-sized toes in the middle. Sometimes I hear her scream in the shower. It’s usually after I hear some clunking sound. I’m guessing she drops the soap on her extra toe every so often. When you have two big toes there is a lot more surface area on which to drop something. There is also more chance you will smash it into the coffee table leg. That’s another reason why I would never want to have an extra toe.

My mom loves that extra toe though. It’s funny when my grandma comes to visit. She is old and fragile and in her sweet old lady voice she always says to my mom, “Did you get that big toe removed yet? I always wanted to get that done when you were a baby. It wouldn’t have hurt that much. I guess now that you’re grown you’re just afraid.” Mom looks at grandma with a kind of “Oh mom I’m so sick of hearing this story” kind of tone. I understand how Mom feels. My grandma loves to tell stories, but she just rambles on and on about my mom’s toe and how she always wanted to get it cut off, but never found the time.
By Melissa Churchill

Literate Thinking class. UAlbany, Spring 2006

It’s a blog eat blog world…

Hurray for blogging!  My first blog is totally dedicated to Liz [the coolest & funnest co-worker] and Tom [liz’s hubby] for hooking me up with my cool blog! 

So, blogging is pretty trendy, eh? I think it should be fun!  Am I a blonde you ask. Hec no, I dye my hair to match my personality!  Just kidding…The hair is real and I have the personality to match. What are the odds?  So, like most bloggers I was a little worried about my blogging journey.  People post all kinds of crazy stuff, but I think it’s safe to say that what is in a blonde’s head is not so safe. Wait, what?

 Well kids….sit back, grab a martini and enjoy the ride!