Monday, November 12, 2012

Drinking in the shower.

Yeah, I just did that.  I just George Castanza-ed my evening, to the max.  I just You tube-esqued my evening into the most awesome Mash Up ever known.  Better than my most favorite mash up ever known to man.

I enjoyed 1/4 of a bottle of red wine whilst simultaneously enjoying a piping hot shower.

Yes I did.

And it was magical.

How have I not ever thought of this before?  Going along with the premise that there are no more new ideas, like there are no more new movie ideas, I mean, why the hell would be be seeing a Judge Dredd remake already or a freaking Spiderman re-do for the fifth time in 3 years?  Surely someone else, just as brilliant, dare I say, just a tad more brilliant than me, has already thought of this.

I then ponder that there are day spas that offer the very service that I am talking about.  Drinking during your spa day, but are you enjoying your adult beverage, whilst receiving that massage?  Are you taking sips while in the fountain of youth?

I am.

I just ADDED seven years to my life, (which pretty much evens out if you divide by the many times I've had to hold in a fart, carry the three and try to act like a lady) by reveling in the experience of drinking, and showering in hot steam and massaging water sprays.

This sounds like a dirty movie. Oh, and it is, if your fantasy is just like mine.  Solo piping hot shower, 20 minutes, large glass of red wine, thoughts and music to yourself.

I combined my two (well, pretty much) favorite things in this world.  A piping hot shower, and drinking.  George Castanza would be proud.  Quite possibly not to the level such as eating and enjoying sexual escapades, but definitely, a lot less messier and just as exhilarating.  My activity is actually a lot more practical than eating and sex.  If I were to truly enjoy eating and sex, I'm not sure how viable a chocolate fondue set on our tempurpedic would fare.  I'm not sure how the dipping would succeed in that scenario.  That's what she said.

The moral of the story is this.  If you haven't tried drinking in the shower, I suggest you do.  It's just as efficient as brushing your teeth in the shower, and much more satisfying, the Today Show would know nothing about this.  Live your life like a real person, I'm not saying you need to actually wash yourself, that's what mornings are for, but come home, on a cold evening, start up a piping hot shower, crack open that bottle of wine, pour, and enjoy.

You're welcome.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Tales from the School Drop Off Line

Part I.

Let's start with my very first crossing guard experience, BEFORE I had children.  Stop sign was out, I was coming up to the guard at 25 MPH, consciously reducing my speed as I am approaching the line, which is still at least 10 feet away from the guard.  Apparently I wasn't stopped farther back enough, or I didn't slow down enough, or quick enough and that, my friends, brought on my first, and not last, experience with the..


<**insert extra space here for emphasis*>

I thought she was going to jump my hood and punch my face through my windshield.   Wayne Brady was going to choke a bitch, and that bitch, was me.

No shit, she was THAT mad.  If you live in the U.S., you know what Willis is talkin' 'bout here.

Not only did she make me feel like a complete arse for, apparently, doing absolutely everything wrong that a person could possibly do while, carefully, approaching a school crossing.  BUT, I was ALSO publicly humiliated as this episode was witnessed by clusters of elementary school children, their parents and other motorists on this road.

Don't be fooled by this nice looking granny guard, they will ALL, kick your ass, if they have to.
Apparently I should have ESP'd my way down to that crossing, two blocks before even being there and radioed in to her that I was aware of her sign and that I would be sure to stop, many blocks away.  I should have stopped my car at the end of the street, got out and walked a slow casual walk up to the stop sign, whilst holding out my hands in the submissive pose, fingers stretch out into face down palms while my knees crouch as I walk, getting ready to approach, still 20 feet away, sniff and immediately roll on my back and ask for a belly rub.

Let's remember that I'm a foreigner, so let's also remember that when I SAW, in person, on the street, my street, my first yellow school bus at the ripe age of TWENTY, and NOT on Sesame Street, I "eep-ep" like a little girl, like, excited to see a real Planet Hollywood in real life and the REAL Wax figure of Bruce Willis, not the Australian exported knock off version.
EEP it's a real Wax figure of Bruce Willis, in a real Planet Hollywood and a real school bus in real life!  Eep again!

I know nothing of your practices and culture, only what I have gathered from watching re-runs of "I Love the 80s and 90s" on VH1.

Soooo, I was not aware that you had to stop for school busses. 

Things they DON'T teach you when applying for an American Driver's License. 

I knew you had to stop behind them, but not on the other side of the road.  I still feel bad for that, but not because anyone was in danger, but because I now know better and I'm sure that bus driver would have gone ALL CROSSING GUARD APE SHIT MAD AT ME, if he wasn't restrained by a seat belt.  I now know what could have happened with the bus driver, because crossing guards ARE NOT restrained by seat belts, and possibly should be.  Just sayin'.

SO anyway, let's do the obligatory, blah blah, crossing guards are looking out for our kids, which they are, which I appreciate, blah blah, just doing their job, blah blah.  Ok - are you done?  Thanks.  I want to get back to my story now.

I felt like shit all day long after that.  Talk about a total buzz kill for the rest of your day, and if you're like me where shit just eats you up no matter how many vodka tonics you have, you're still upset, but now upset and perpetually hung over for a week, at least, and probably out of vodka. 
Out of vodka.  Upset.  Embarrassed.  Possibly hungover.
That one crossing guard, who quantum leaped her way onto the set of "Are you my baby's daddy?" 10th episode of Maury, and paraded her best over-the-top Jerry Springer fake fist fight advances all in front of me, in front of other people, distressed me.  I also got a lesson in other culture language, words I'm still not yet sure about, not sure if they were swear words or just heated words, but, another language words, I knew that. 
Yup, throw on a safety jacket and she was gonna MAKE me her baby daddy. <**shudder**>
I was embarrassed and upset. 
I'd done nothing wrong. 

I wasn't going to mow down those kids - I hardly knew them.  I mean, I'm sure one or three of them are total shit heads, but that's no reason for me to iron out the whole group on a street crossing.  That's not my bag, baby.

Now I see a crossing guard, two of them, every Monday to Friday morning.  Some of the first human (aside from my five year old) interaction I get, before I get to work, before I've caught up of what everyone else did starting at 9pm the night before, that I am now aware of thanks to Facebook, while I sit in my yoga pants yawning, eating my fourth nutella sandwich, not regretting the choices I've made to sit in a warm house with kids and a husband and not going out starting at 9pm and dragging my arse the next day.

I had an even worse wrath of the crossing guard experience, recently, dropping my kid off to school, because now, I have to see her, see them, every day, post trauma.  Every Morning......   Part DEUX, up next.  Stay tuned to "Tales from the School Drop Off Line - WRATH OF THE CROSSING GUARD."  Ahem.

In one final editor's note, why is it that if you google "Crazy crossing guard" or "crossing going going ape shit mad" or "angry crossing guard" Images of Sean Penn show up and images with him and Josh Brolin together?  That's fuckin' weird.