True Story: It sucks. What’s the big deal?
{March 26, 2010}
Money
{March 23, 2010}
Spring Break
True Story: Been there. Done that.
Oh, spring break… Where do you start? I guess from the beginning…. And since there are so many to bore you with, I am going to break this up into more than 1 post… Your Welcome.
I don’t know what year of my life the spring break memories begin. There are so many jumbled, beach trips that stick out randomly in my mind. So I will just start as far back as I can go.
Spring break elementary school: No memories. I’ve killed too many brain cells.
Oh wait… There’s 1. The court case:
My brother is 6 1/2 years older than me, so I don’t have a lot of spring break memories with him as he was graduating highschool when I was beginning middle school. But there is 1 that sticks out vividly in my mind.
We went to Aspen, CO, with my dad and his girlfriend, just my brother & I. We are his only kids that we know of. When I speak of my little sisters, they are my “Sistas from another Mista”. This statement mortifies my mother when we say it in public… We love to say it in public.
My brother’s birthday is in March and usually fell somewhere around Spring Break. I always wanted to do cool things for his b’day like go to Chucky Cheese or something awesome like that. He would get pissed and say I got my way because I was the favorite… And so on and so forth, you all know the drill.
Well, Dad and his lady friend go out for dinner minus 2 obnoxious kids one night, this particular Spring Break in Aspen, circa 1983. My brother is in charge of me. Wrong words to give him licence with.
Here’s how it went down. He wouldn’t let me out of my chair in the hotel room the whole time Dad was gone. I had to sit with my back straight and arms on the arm rests for hours. If I tried to get up he would shove me back down in the chair. And … Wouldn’t let me pee.
What would you do? ? ?
I screamed my ass off.
Until the hotel manager came to the room and knocked on the door. Where my brother proceeded to tell me to sit tight & shut up while he talked to him.
I’m not really sure why he wanted me to sit still. I think he wanted to watch TV and not me, if memory serves.
Long story short, when Dad got home and we all began screaming to tell our side of the story, hotel manager included. We were all told to shut up. Then Dad proceeded to hold court, nominating himself Judge, of course. (Probably been partaking in the adult bevs).
Sentencing:
Me: To bed for disturbing the Peace.
P: To bed for assault/child abuse, or something along those lines.
Hmm, What else happened in Aspen?
1) I had NO FEAR. I was somewhere between 6 -8 and wanted to quit ski school on day 2 because… Pff… “I got this”. I would go to the top of whatever black diamond dad and P were doing and just sit down on the back of my skis and go! (Was still too young for poles).
2) I got sunburns on my eyes and they had to hog-tie me to get eye drops in them. But I did get a cool pair of pink sunglasses with leather side panels to block the sun. Ironically, I am addicted to eye drops today.
3) I hurt my knee (going for it) and had to ride in ski patrol and wear a leg brace. I remember the rest of my party thinking I was fake limping down the cobblestone streets of Aspen. Not true. It REALLY hurt.
4) I ate escargot for the first time in the Crystal Palace, and saw dinner theater for the first time in my life. LOVED it.
Spring Break junior high. Now, we’re getting somewhere.
To be continued…
True Story: My bro in law has a lot of letters behind his name. We are all convinced he continues to go to school for Spring Break. I think he’s had like 13, post High School.
{March 17, 2010}
My music
True Story: My goal in my 30s was to learn to play guitar and speak Spanish.
Well, I’ll be 35 in October, 10/10/10 by the way. How cool is that? And I haven’t gotten started yet. Pump did buy me some Spanish tapes and Guitar tapes. Tapes people! Real analog tapes. What machine am I going to put them in? They don’t make them anymore.
He also gave me a picture of guitar lessons he was going to give me for our anniversary one year.
True Story: Pump and I give each other pictures of things for gifts when we don’t have the $$ to buy them.
I gave him a picture of an X Box one year for Christmas. 2 years later he finally got it, from my Mom. A year after that they were obsolete. This year I gave him a picture of a cruise ship for Christmas. We’ll see…
So I’ve always wanted to be able to play an instrument. And I secretly think I have talent as a harp player, mouth harp, that is.
This is a constant source of entertainment for friends & family, with me as the butt of the jokes, of course.
True Story: If we are all hanging around a campfire or my back deck, late in the evening, listening to music and partaking in adult beverages, I like to slide out my harp when no one’s looking… and rock it!
{March 15, 2010}
Done it a thousand times
True Story: My dad has done everything.
Somewhere along the way, my dad, mother, brother, brother-in law and myself learned everything. It ‘s like a divine miracle that all of us ended up in the same family and we all know the very best way to do EVERYTHING.
Just ask us.
We each know exactly how to grill meat, make coffee, drive a car, which movies are best, load a dishwasher, make a cocktail, which wine to serve, how to punish a child, when a child should go to bed, what kind of illness you have, how many times you should wipe your ass and so on …
Lots o’ Chiefs.
The cool thing about my dad is he doesn’t know he’s a chief. His mild-mannered personality allows his chiefdom to slip in there.
His Famous (by the way, that’s his nickname,) line is:
“I’ve done it a thousand times”. Sometimes this ends with Child, his nickname for me.
Done it a thousand times child.
Examples:
1) Dad: Oh, Pole Vaulting? Done it a thousand times….
2) Me: I didn’t sleep well last night.
Dad: me neither… Hadn’t slept in years…
3) Me: The traffic was bad today…
Dad: Worst it’s ever been. Period.
Every statement has a finality.
Examples:
1) Finest fish you have ever put in your mouth… Ever… Period… Period…
So, it’s always fun for Pump and I to tell Dad about something new we are excited about. Because, of course, he’s already done it.
Us: So, you’ll never guess what happened today. We were driving down the road and decided to pull over to the beach.
Dad: Oh, yeah… Know it well.
Us: We were watching the sun set when a black bear swam up out of the gulf.
Dad: Yep, seen it a thousand times.
Us: He walked up to the car and asked if he could buy us a drink.
Dad: I know it… That’s what he always does.
Cute True Story sidenote: I mentioned my dad avoids un-pleasantries, right?
When Pump and the Vampire got busted having an affair, I called my dad and told him about it.
Dad: Seen it a thousand times… Want to come over for crab?
{March 15, 2010}
Condiments
True Story: Pretty sure life would suck without them.
{March 10, 2010}
Toot
True Story: My body fails me in public situations.
If I can split my pants, trip, laugh till I tee tee in front of large groups of people, I will.
True Story: I’m a great faller.
I fall so much, I don’t even notice. This, of course, does not stop other people from noticing.
1) As a freshman in high school I was at a “Senior’s party”. People were out in the open garage smoking, etc… I walk across the garage headed toward the door to the house to warm up/go to the bathroom… Whatever reason to not stand there by myself not knowing what to say to people. I slipped in an oil spot on the garage floor. SPLAT.
In my head: Oh, Lord, here we go.
Now this shouldn’t be a big deal. At most, people should try to help you up and say, “are you alright”. But this is high school and people suck… So for the rest of the evening and all the next week at school some older girls, excuse me, bitches, pretended to fall whenever they were around me… Awesome…
2) One of the many times I fell down the stairs at home growing up, I landed at my Mom’s feet.
Mom: Now that’s just stupid. You’re grounded.
3) Walking across campus in Montana on icy grounds with Pump (just a friend at the time) and some other schoolmates, I fell. I mean really fell, and got right back up and kept talking. They all stopped and were like, “wait… Are you okay”?
I was fine, and annoyed at their concern. You see, my story I was passionately telling was WAY more important than my fall. Everything I say is REALLY important.
More examples of this ol’ body embarrassing me:
1) I got my “monthly” in class unexpectedly in 8th grade. This is really cool. Thank God it was fall weather and I was able to wrap my jacket around my waist and go ask the teacher permission to go to the bathroom.
Sidenote: Why do teachers make you so terrified to ask permission to leave the room. Damn it. I’m pissed now. I think they are the reason for half of my nick names through the years.
The greatest part about that day in 8th grade was that the teacher, whom subtlety was apparently non-existent, got up as I was leaving the room and Lysoled my chair.
There are many of these incidences I could bore you with. I will get to the point.
In 8th grade one evening I was hanging outside a friend’s house with some girlfriends and “older boys” (high school boys). What were our parents thinking? None of them are good. I don’t care who their parents are. They are all walking hormone- crazed, want-to-be, sex-machines.
So, I’m doing what I do best, probably trying to bum a cigarette and be funny (yes, I was that one). Someone said something hilarious and I lean back, dying laughing and you guessed it… I farted.
I said it. FART. I disagree with many southern belles. I don’t think that is a dirty word. Maybe it’s because I am the mother of a man-child.
True Story: In some circles, still today, I am known as Toot and Fartin Martin.
{March 9, 2010}
Cyber-world
True Story: I am not very technologically or cyber-world literate.
I did not know what a blog was FOREVER. And just recently, thanks to Mr. Cameron, realized there really is such a thing as an avatar. (Don’t tell anyone. I haven’t seen the movie yet). I did see all other 400 nominated films for 2009. Just haven’t been able to commit to avatar yet. But thanks to the old trusty pooter here, have been able to google/Wikipedia it.
So, I am still figuring all this business out. But did discover something wonderfully hilarious today. Researching my pings and hits and search engine words, I realized that someone found my blog by searching “first time to have sex with mother in law”.
Let me repeat myself: In the last few days some nervous young man, or young lady, no judging here, had sex with their mother-in-law, freaked out, and typed into his/her keyboard, “first time to have sex with mother in law”, in search of cyber advise.
If nothing ever comes of this blog but for the fact that I discovered this information, I can die happy.
Hahahahahaha! That is hysterical. I realize there is a traumatic family situation brewing out there, and I am sorry for that, but when I retold the story here of my MIL asking me the first time I met her if her son tried to have sex with me, I never knew I would attract THIS kind of attention.
Oh, what a cyber-world we live in.
True Story: I have no idea what any of this means: ( ) 🙂 😦 (**) <> <:) )&(*
{March 8, 2010}
The Proposal
True Story: I have been proposed to once. I said yes, I think.
I went to Maui for a writer’s conference about 6 years ago. Good Times! My mom flew out to meet me there. It’s a hell of a long way to fly from Hawaii to Alabama so we decided to stop over and visit my brother in San Fransisco for a couple of days to break up the trip.
Mom and I stayed in a hotel across the street from my brother’s loft. He lived in a great spot but very near the Tenderloin. (Shady district).
True Sidenote: My dad is famously non-confrontational. His ex-wife and I used to laugh and say if we were getting mauled or attacked that he would say, “Uh, excuse me, Mr. Murderer, just let me know when you’re done and I’ll take them to the hospital”.
Hence, we found it very funny when the three of us were walking from the parking garage to my brother’s place in SF one day and discovered we were trapped by some very scary looking crack heads. They were blocking our exit and we had nowhere to go.
Dad (shouting at the top of his lungs): WATCH OUT! I’M COMING OUT MUTHAFUCKERS!
Me & Stepmom: Hahahahahahahaa
Crack heads: Nothing. Nada. Didn’t know we were there.
Back to the proposal.
True Story: Hurricane Ivan made a direct hit on my little part of the world Sept 16, 2004. While I was in Hawaii/California, Pump was back at our little rental house, a block off the water packing and grabbing our important items. As Ivan was barreling down on the Alabama gulf coast Pump was still there packing when the cops came to the door and said he had 2 hours to get off the island or he had to stay and ride it out.
True Story: I do not believe in riding out storms. Stupid!
Pump got out of there and headed to Birmingham.
While he was escaping death, my Mom, brother and I went to the wine country. There’s only one way to go about it. First thing in the morning you have to start with Champagne. So off to Korbel we were. A little advise, don’t plan any major event the evening after travelling from winery to winery all day. You are just generally pissed off from catching a buzz then driving for a while only to catch a buzz again and be talked into spending lots of money on wine that you could buy at Wal-Mart for 300% less. And so we ended our day at In and Out Burger (Awesome). We looked like Paul Giamatti in Sideways drinking his prized bottle with a burger and fries.
The next morning around 8am I hang up the phone with Pump back in Alabama who is telling me about his packing and evacuation and I’m telling him to remember to get this, and that, and blah, blah, blah. I call my brother and tell him I’m walking over from our hotel and I want him to buzz me up so I can check my email.
I cross the street, am buzzed up and get in the elevator. When the elevator door opens, Pump is standing across the hallway up against the wall, in SAN FRANSISCO, HELLO??? I immediately start screaming, WHAT!?!? WHO DIED?!?! WHAT?!? JUST TELL ME? WHO DIED? IS IT MY DAD? (I am pretty sure at this point that I left my mom alive back in our hotel room).
True Backstory: My step-dad died suddenly of a heart attack on my 27th birthday, on a morning I was going to see him. He was no longer married to my mother, but was my step-dad for 18 years and is my sisters’ father. As Pump taught me on our 1st date, people died. Why else would he be there?
So I was a little confused to say the least, as to why he was here in California.
What made it worst was his response to my screaming.
Pump: Speechless and shaking
He didn’t say 1 word. Nothing. Nada.
Advice to gentlemen: Think about what you might say in this situation. Pump’s idea to just “wing it”, failed miserably when I started yelling who’s dead, and the emotion of the moment got the best of him.
He never said anything. But I started to figure things out as he shakily got down on one knee. When I saw what he was doing I slid my costume ring off my middle, left finger and into my pocket.
He placed a beautiful ring that he had designed on my finger. We hugged and kissed. If I recall correctly, he never “really” asked and I never “really” answered.
Still though, we must have both assumed.
True Story: About 10 minutes later, Pump was looking at me fondly, like a father figure proud of his girl. He rubbed my arm up and down very platonically.
Pump: you’re getting married…
Translation: Somebody finally decided to marry you. How cute…
Ha!
{March 1, 2010}
1st time I met the MIL
True Story: This is just one of the MANY conversations about sex that I have had with my MIL (mother in law).
The first time I met my MIL I was just a potential girlfriend at the time. I must have liked Pump cause I drove over 10 hours to see him for a long weekend.
Bleary-eyed after driving so long I stopped and bought a 6 pack and a plant for my sorta-boyfriend’s mother who was so graciously letting me stay at her home. I’m southern after all.
I walk in and she and Pump are in the kitchen. We make our introductions. Then I’m told I am staying upstairs in Pump’s room with him. Now, even though I am a grown woman, this is not what I expected. I had not been around parents that would look at me like I was crazy for thinking I would stay in my own room. We weren’t even living in sin yet.
So, that evening, Pump, myself and some of his friends go out and get a little drunk. Back at Pump’s house that night he is taking a bath. He has been sick to his stomach and now needs a bath.
True Story: The kid takes at least 2 baths a day. I’ve never met anybody that “needs” baths as much as he does.
Anywho, he’s in the bath, and I’m sitting on the toilet talking to him. He has long eye lashes and the water is dripping off of them. I really notice his eyes for the first time.
Me: You have pretty eyes.
Pump (drunkenly): I know… It’s all I’ve got.
I think this is hilarious. So, the next day I am trying to make conversation with my future MIL. This is only the second time we’ve spoken. She is ironing her nursing uniform and I say, “You won’t believe what your son did last night…
She puts her iron down and looks at me with her hands on her hips.
MIL: He tried to have sex with you, didn’t he?
Me (shocked): Well, yes… But that’s not what I was going to tell you.
True Story: When she talks about the first time she met me, she likes to tell large rooms full of people, that I showed up at her house with beer, a plant and I had a little skirt on, and my belly was sticking out, and I just didn’t care. I was just so confident.
True Story: I assure you, if I had known a fat roll was sticking out I wouldn’t have been so confident.
{February 27, 2010}
Things people have really said to me
True Story: You can’t make it up. Truth really is stranger than fiction.
Middle-aged man in bar: You want to go out to my car with me?
Me: No
Middle-aged man in bar: I’m rich as shit.
_______________________________________________________________________
I’m bartending in a bar in Big Sky Ski Resort. A very well-dressed, middle-aged couple come in. She’s wearing a full length fur. Bar just opened and is empty waiting for all the apres skiers and boarders to come off the mountain. I put a beverage napkin in front of them.
Me: What can I get for you?
Man: I detect an accent. Where are you from?
Me: Alabama.
Lady: Oh… So you don’t like black people?
Me: Speechless
_________________________________________________________________________
I went to a school reunion. I am a realtor so I passed out cards. Sure, always looking for business, but really just a way to keep in touch because it has my phone # and email address on it. I handed it to one young woman who I was pretty good friends with. This group was inviting me to join their supper club.
Old friend/classmate: You know, I’m really busy. I’m probably not going to call you.
She hands me my card back. Wouldn’t most of you just throw it away???
True Story 