July 31, 2015

CPT's Oops

So I have been friends with CPT for about 17 years now.  Love him to pieces.  Was in his wedding party.  He's my head instructor at my karate school.  Good man, good father, good federal employee.

Last night we had a potential issue come up at our school, and as I was working late I couldn't call him back about it until this morning.  Our lives are busy - so at 6:00am, there we were - on the phone while his daughter was trying to eat breakfast and he and his wife were scrambling to leave,  talking about this issue.  At the end, problem acknowledged, have a good day, talk to you later.

On the side, he's attempting to sell some weapons left over in an estate, and last week had emailed both myself and my dad, who was potentially interested in one.  My dad asked for more info, including photos which weren't available at the time.  Apparently, CPT got some though, and so emailed both my dad and myself this morning.

Here's the rub.

In an email TO MY FATHER - MY STILL LARGE, STILL IMPOSING, STILL VERY TRADITIONAL AND CONSERVATIVE PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL HALL OF FAME FATHER, he writes "thanks for making my breakfast so nice today."  And then added a smiley face. And THEN he attached the pictures of the gun.

I sit here now, waiting for "the call".  You know the one  - the one my father is going to make asking me why my MARRIED friend is intimating that I made his beginning of the day so lovely and fabulous.  Because trust me - he won't look at the gun photos, he will READ the email...

and call me.

OMG.

The only thing that made me happy about any of this, is that when I typed back to CPT and told him thanks for intimating in an email to my dad that we'd had sex, he snoked his coffee all over his desk.  Says he didn't mean that.  I told him to read it again.

Dolt.

It's the small things, folks.  Gotta take happiness where you can find it.  I hope his desk blotter is a mess.  Serves him right.

In the meantime...... I wait.......  What's worse? My dad may torture me, and wait until I see him AND my mother, at the Hall of Fame events in Canton, OH next week.  In which case I will live in fear until he asks - and he's been known to ask about embarrassing stuff IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE!!!!!!

ugh.

June 4, 2015

Crap, Am I Really That Old???

My sister called me today.  My niece had "80s" day at school.  She sent me a picture, and there she was, dressed in Dolphin shorts, with her hair in a scrunchy and her bangs feathered.

Note the key words there, that in my personal vocabulary no longer get used but that evoke a very fresh and vivid - and IMMEDIATE - memory of high school in the late 80s out in Arizona.

When I thought, quite frankly, that I was pretty damn cool.


Dolphins.

Scrunchy.

Feathered.

Any of you of a certain age know exactly what those words mean. In fact, you are probably picturing yourself wearing Dolphins, or a scrunchy, or a feathered look.  And you looked GOOD, right? I mean, were the 80s really that long ago????

I'm so sad.

My niece texted me (yeah, that should be the giveaway; I was still rotary dialing at her age, and she has an IPhone 6 and is texting me) and said "Aunt Phee, we did 80s day today.  My teacher said to ask our parents, b/c the 80s are a part of HISTORY and people from that era are old."

Crushing.

That 'era'?  Are you freaking kidding me?

I understand now the look of disbelief when I grabbed my dad's clothes from the 60s and early 70s and gleefully paraded around stating that we were having 60s day at school.

Dad - I'm so very sorry!  I didn't know!  I DIDN'T KNOW!!!!!!

I am officially old.

June 2, 2015

Carbs and Cannons

It's been a trying couple of weeks.  Friends in Texas have been hit by the floods.  My aunt is struggling with a chronic illness.  Someone drove over the turtle that a few weeks ago I had saved by helping him cross the street he was in the middle of. They could have picked him up and moved him to the grass near the pond, he wasn't small, but NO!  It was apparently more fun to just squish him.  My neighbor who I love dearly and who has become my friend, announced she'd been foreclosed on and she was moving.  And a new feral cat showed up - a black one, who is thin and sick and who needs help, but try as I might, I haven't been able to find him again, and that makes me so sad.

Just stupid SHIT everywhere, and the world is sort of breaking my heart a little.

Oh, and did I mention that my Dr. has put me on a no-to-low carb program?  Am I diabetic? Nope.  Is my blood pressure too high?  Nope.  Are my triglycerides and all those other things out of whack?  Nope.  But he's worried that I MIGHT go in that direction if we don't act now.  Might? The world is full of mights, doc.  Sheesh.  I've known this Dr for 23 years; he is a friend, he is actually someone I trust, and he's a Black Belt too - and has been my biggest fan in terms of watching me for years train and go through the testing process.  So he's not easy to say no to, or ignore.

Note to readers: do NOT become friends with your Dr b/c then you're really screwed if he says "you can stand to lose some weight and get healthy and here's what you are GOING to do (aka, you have no choice or you will DIE DIE DIE!!!!)

Sigh.

I made it through May.  Damn it all, but I made it.  No bread was easy - other than an occasional bagel, I have never really eaten bread.  No rice? Hooray - I hate the stuff.  No corn or potatoes or spreadable dairy or fruit other than apples and oranges?  Weird, but sure, OK.  No soda or alcohol? Already there friends - no sweat.  NO TORTILLAS?  OK, much harder. No pasta?  Ouch.  Fine.  Sucks, but fine.  Turkey bacon and eggs for breakfast EVERY day???  For someone who has considered her latte breakfast for 20 years now, that has been a change, but I've done it.  Honestly the hardest part was my body converting and missing sugar in forms of lattes, or sugar in my tea, or crackers and tapenade.  Or licorice.  After week 3, and 9 pounds, I was convinced maybe I was doing something 'better' for myself; a lifestyle change for the better.  And I wasn't quite as cranky.

But all these negative things going on, and HUMIDITY to boot?  I'm just - well, I wish I had a cannon.  Of all things I watched "Somebody's Gotta Do It" with Mike Rowe on CNN last week. I hate CNN, but I love Mike Rowe. Huge fan of his previous show Dirty Jobs.  Anyway, he was in Baltimore and they were showing cannons and it made me think - I need one of those.  I really do. I would set that fucker off and aim it at the guy who squished Mr. Turtle, or the people who have ignored the black cat, or the folks at work who are so RUDE and ENTITLED even though they are a decade younger than me (your parents should be ashamed).  I would light up bad drivers, and anyone my neighbor wanted.  So yeah, foreclosure is something that could be considered her own fault, but I'm still mad that she's leaving.  11 years and she is the only other owner still around that I like. Everyone else is a renter with bad manners and bad parking skills.

Sigh.

And no one would mess with me, b/c damn it all, I WOULD HAVE A MOTHER FUCKING CANNON!

Maybe I need a tortilla? Would I be less cranky if I ate a tortilla?  I could go outside in this LOVELY 70 degree weather, even in the rain, and just sit by Mr. Turtle's pond and munch on carbs and maybe life wouldn't seem quite so....

Icky.